I'd also like to tell you all my website has moved, its new URL is: http://Justincasescorner.homestead.com There are lots of changes that I've made for you all to enjoy, I hope you like them.
I've added lots of new writers and stories to the site for your enjoyment. I just finished adding a brand new page called `Justin's Book Case,' this page has three very talented new writers and their work; Jason Calme's, `Do What You Can,' Shdowgod Blackheart's, `A Shot of Bourbon,' and Wavyscribe's, `The Magic In Your Touch.'
Oh don't worry, `Justin's Nook,' is still on the site, and it has lots of new stories too. You can find Seth Tubby's, The Chilling Dude's, Moppy's, Arthur's, ND's, and Told 2 C's work proudly displayed on that page.
The really big news, and change to my site, is the new Message Board I've added. Many of the writers on my site and I have formed `Justin Case's Gay Writers Group.' We're a group of writers interested in helping people find their way in life, and sharing our thoughts. If you'd like to leave a message and receive a prompt response, go to http://www.voy.com/137677/
Now before I turn you all loose, let me thank the many of you that have found your way to the newest chat channel on Nifty, called #Niftywriters. What's that you say, you haven't heard of it? Well, just go to Nifty.Org look at the `Information for Reader's' category find the link to chat rooms, click on it, then find the Nifty Writers Chat link on the bottom of the page. We hope to see you there soon!
Until the next time sweethearts!
"Hey, I've got to drop you both off in a hurry. I've got to get right home. My mom called. It's my dad..." Griz explained as Buddy and I approached the Bat Mobile.
He looked all upset. I noticed he was fumbling around with the keys in the door lock from his nervousness. Griz's face was stern and his cheeks were red. I knew he was real upset.
"You want me to drive?" I offered.
"Yeah. Would you?" he answered.
"What's wrong with your dad?" Buddy asked.
"I don't really know, Carl," Griz explained. "My mom called the school and left a message that I needed to get home right after school. She said my dad was really sick. That's all I know."
"His dad stayed home from work today. He never does that," I quickly informed Buddy as I took the car keys from Gerard.
I slipped into the driver's seat of the '61 Dodge, adjusted the rear view mirror, and glanced at my reflection. My eyes looked tired. 'Must be from all the tossing and turning I did the night before,' I reasoned with myself. I thought about what I'd be doing the coming night with Buddy.
Gerard got in the front, Buddy in the back. I turned the key in the ignition and started the car. I quickly looked into the mirror again and flashed a smile at Buddy which he returned. It was a private exchange of glances Gerard was oblivious to. He just stared aimlessly out the windshield, his eyes intensely looking straight ahead. I pushed the button marked `R' for reverse. No matter how many times I drove the Bat Mobile, I always reached for the shift which didn't exist in the car. It had push buttons instead.
I silently hoped Gerard's dad was OK as I drove the car out of the school parking lot and headed towards home. I had known the family since we moved next door. Griz's parents were like a second set to my own. Actually, I seemed to tell his folks more than I ever dared to tell my own. His dad was always willing to listen to me and had often spent time chatting with me alone over the years. Sometimes I'd wonder if he talked to Griz as easily as he talked to me or was he like my own stepdad and more reserved around his son. Griz never seemed to mind that his parents talked to me, so I figured they were closer than I was with my family.
"You want us to come in with you?" I asked as I parked the Bat Mobile in Gerard's driveway.
"Hmm, look, John's home," Griz indicated with a nod the other car parked in the driveway next to the garage.
John is Gerard's older brother; he was away at seminary school and was older than we, so I never really got to know him. The two brothers looked very much alike; there was no mistaking their being related. John was always a strange duck if you know what I mean. Not that he gave me the chills or anything like that, he was just weird. Gerard told me once that when John would come home he'd spend hours at a time pacing in his bedroom. He went on to tell me his father would yell up the stairs telling John to knock it off, as his footsteps could be heard downstairs. I tried to visualize it and wondered why John paced, but never asked.
"Maybe he's just home for the weekend," I quickly suggested.
"Maybe, but I think it's best if I go in alone. I'll call you." Gerard got out of the car and walked into his house without another word.
Buddy and I walked towards my house. I looked over my shoulder at Gerard's house, wondering if everything was all right. Gerard had left so quickly he had forgotten to take his car keys. I slid them into my front pants pocket.
"So, Joe, what do you know?"
I smiled and looked his way. `No one is home,' I thought to myself.
"That I'm glad you're my best friend," I told him as I led him into my house.
"Yeah, I'm glad you're mine too."
Now I don't know if my `Little Joe,' is on some sort of timer or what. I do know that most everyday when I get home from school I jerk him off and that he was getting ready while I brought Buddy into my living room.
"When will your `rents be home?" Buddy asked as he sat in the recliner.
"My mom gets home around four thirty, my dad about 5 or so."
"Cool, we have time to ourselves."
"Yeah, can I get you anything?"
"You know, it would be real cool if we had a drink. You guys got any booze here?" The question almost shot out of his mouth.
"I think so, but I wouldn't want my folks to know I drank it." I began to have mischievous thoughts, telling myself it would be fun to have a drink like adults.
"Do they have any vodka or gin? They're both clear and we can add water to the bottles. They'll never know." His experience seemed obvious in his statement.
"Let me look."
I went into the kitchen, opened the cabinet that my parents kept the booze in and started looking at the different bottles. The second one I pulled out was gin. I twisted the top off and took a sniff. Whoa, it nearly burned the hairs out of my nostrils. I wondered to myself, `how do people drink this stuff?' It smelled horrible. I could only imagine what it tasted like. `No wonder they use soda and stuff with it,' I told myself and then looked in our refrigerator for something to cut the gin with.
"What kind of soda do you add to gin?" I called to Buddy.
"Tonic, I think."
"What about ginger ale?" It was the only soda I could find.
"Sounds good, I guess."
I had never made drinks before and had no idea how much of what to use. I guessed that I'd use less gin than soda and thought it was probably the best way to go. So I filled the glasses about one third full of gin, chucked some ice cubes in, and filled the rest with soda. I took a little sip of mine. I didn't want to drink it in front of Buddy and choke or something, so I decided to test it first. Well let me tell you, it tasted as bad as it smelled. The only good thing was the soda. Too late to turn back now, I put the gin bottle under the kitchen faucet, added some water so it looked like none was gone, and took the glasses into the living room.
I handed Buddy his glass and tapped mine on the side of his making a toast. "Here's to our long friendship."
"Through the lips, around the gums, look out belly here it comes," he replied. Then in one quick chug he drank the entire drink.
I felt kind of challenged, so I did the same. It burned in my stomach after I had swigged it down. My eyes even began to tear up. Within a few moments, my whole body felt like rubber. I had to sit down. I was feeling a little light-headed and dizzy.
"Hey, Joe, you ever smoke pot?"
"Wanna try it? I've got some. You probably won't get high, though, this being your first time and all." Buddy began pulling a plastic bag out of his pants pocket. Once he got it all the way out he opened it and sniffed the contents.
"I guess so. How long have you been smoking?" I really didn't want to smoke it, but I felt if I didn't, he'd no longer trust me.
"I started smoking about a year ago. Listen, this stuff really smells a lot. Maybe we should smoke it in your basement," he explained.
Feeling dizzy, I got up and headed for the basement door with Buddy in tow. As I tried to go down the stairs I almost fell. I was so tipsy and had little control over my muscles. I almost felt as if I were on a boat, everything kept moving. Buddy laughed at me from behind.
"Feeling a little cocked?" He asked.
I thought he asked if I'd feel a little cock.
"What did you say?" I asked.
"Are you cocked, you know, drunk?"
"No," I lied.
I made my way down the stairs without further incident. I closed my eyes for a second or two when I was standing solidly on the floor. It didn't stop the feeling of spinning, but I didn't see double.
"You look sloshed, Joe. You OK?" His voice sounded filled with concern. It made me so happy.
"Yeah, I'm OK," I whispered.
We walked over to a table in the corner of the cellar. I stumbled a little, but I managed to finally sit down on one of the chairs without falling over. Buddy sat in another chair across from me. I looked into his eyes and thought I saw four of them. I squinted a little to see if I could adjust my sight to no avail.
Buddy put some of the green leafy stuff on the formica tabletop and started to break it up with his fingers. He worked diligently, very careful not to drop any of the stuff. Once he had it all broken up, he began removing little seeds using his fingertips. Then he pulled a cigar out of his shirt pocket and a penknife out of his pants. He used the penknife to cut the side of the cigar. Next he removed the tobacco from the cigar and put the marijuana in the brown leaf that formerly held the tobacco. Then he rolled it back up and began licking it to seal it shut. After he had it all rolled up, he took his lighter and dried the side he had licked. It was quite a ritual if you ask me.
"I'll show you how to smoke it. Watch what I do." He sounded so authoritative.
I watched as he put the pot-filled stogie to his lips and lighted it. He closed his eyes as he drew the smoke into his lungs, then held his mouth shut so as not to let any of the smoke escape. His face began to turn red and finally he blew the smoke out.
"You got to hold it in as long as you can. Don't take too much. Go easy, it's your first time," he coaxed.
I listened and did what he had done and drew a small amount of smoke in. It didn't matter, I began coughing and hacking at once. I couldn't stop either. He laughed at me as I handed back that horrid thing. I felt childish and embarrassed. He told me not to worry, that it happens to everyone the first time, but I still felt foolish.
I watched him as he took another puff and held the smoke. God, he was so handsome. I just wanted to kiss him right then. So I did. I leaned across the table and planted my lips on his. He pushed my mouth open with his and blew the smoke he had been holding into it. Then he darted his tongue around the inside of my mouth. I couldn't release the smoke because our mouths were glued together. Finally, he took his mouth away and I was able to let the smoke out.
"That was nice," he said quietly.
"You wanna go up to my bedroom?"
"After you, Joe."
To say I was a little light-headed would have been an understatement. Actually, I felt like I was floating on air and unable to control my limbs due to the alcohol. Buddy must have seen my clumsiness. He put his arm around my waist and guided me up the stairs. When we got to the top, I turned to look at him. He looked so serious. His brown eyes seemed intense. I felt like he really cared for me.
"I love you, Carl."
"I love you, Joe," he said as he escorted me the rest of the way to my bedroom.
Once we were in my room, Buddy went right to my bed. He lay on his back and his eyes seemed to beckon me as he reached his arms outwards. He looked so inviting. I couldn't resist him. I lay down beside him taking him in my arms, every fiber of my body excited at feeling him against me. I felt his arms as he hugged me closer. His lips pressed against mine as he kissed me gently.
As we kissed each other, I could feel tingles in my scalp. It felt like each of my hairs was standing on end as it does when it's full of static. He smelled so good as I took his scent into my nostrils, slightly musky with a little sweetness of his bath soap mixed together. Our tongues slid against each other while our mouths sucked and nibbled on the other's lips. I pushed my pelvis into his and rubbed my aching member through the fabric of my clothes against his hardened bulge. Our kisses became deeper and more sensual.
"Joe, I've never done this before." His voice sounded childlike and filled with fear.
"I haven't really either," I said, not confessing what had happened with Shelly and me.
"I'm afraid if we do this, it might ruin what we have," Buddy said, his fears now being more of concern.
After I thought a moment about what Mr. Murray had told me, I said, "Buddy, I love you too much to let anything come between us, but if you don't want to, I'll understand."
"I do, Joe, I do. I just don't know...part of me is screaming to go ahead and part of me is screaming to stop."
We stayed in each other's arms, our eyes locked. He kissed me again. The feeling of being held in his arms was beyond description. I guess the best way I can describe it is to say I felt like I was wanted and desired. It's nearly impossible for me to put into words how my body responded to the pleasure of being embraced by him, how each and every nerve ending seemed to be on fire. As much as I wanted to be one with him, I understood how he felt and placed his feelings ahead of my desires.
"What if I don't satisfy you?" he asked.
"Buddy, you satisfy me already."
"I'm just so confused, Joe."
"I am too."
"I don't even know what to do, Joe. I mean I want to make you feel good, but I don't know if I can," he told me, his voice quavering in a slight whisper.
"I'm not really sure what to do either, Buddy. It's OK, we can wait."
"Can we just lie here and hug?"
"Yes, I like being next to you like this. Let's just hold one another for now."
"I love you, Joe."
"I love you, Carl."
We stayed in each other's arms in my bed for quite a while. Our bodies melted into one another, our breathing shallow and slow. His hands began exploring my back under my shirt. His fingertips lightly danced on my smooth skin exciting me even more. I pulled his head to me and kissed him as tenderly as I could. He responded in kind.
The effects of the gin were wearing off and I knew my mom would be home shortly, so we'd have to get out of bed soon. It pained me to realize the reality of our love for one another. It was a love so forbidden by many and not understood. I knew our feelings for each other would have to be disguised; it pained me to think of it. As I nudged his body in an effort to let him know our moment must end, I thought of how transparent I had seemed to Mark. I knew that our being in love was something we'd have to hide and wondered what I had done to give myself away to Mark. I also thought of how I found Mark attractive and began to fear I was becoming what I'd heard `fags' were, `males that have sex just to have sex; predators of the weak.' Oh yes, I've heard all the horrible things that have been said and I feared them.
As I climbed out of bed, I stood looking at Buddy as he lay motionless. I began to feel content. Quieting my guilt, perhaps only temporarily, I was able to see our love as true and shameless. I started to forgive myself for loving another boy.
"Later tonight after the party, I promise we can be together."
Just then the phone rang. I dashed to my parent's bedroom to answer it. It was Gerard. He was crying.
"What's wrong?" I quickly asked.
"Joe, oh Joe, it's my dad."
I didn't say anything. I just listened.
"He's had a heart attack. They rushed him to Mayfield General. My mom went up in the ambulance. John is a nervous wreck. He wants me to take him up there. I think you have my car keys."
"I do. I'll bring them right over. I'm sorry, Griz. Is he...I mean, he'll be ok."
"Thanks, Joe. Do you think you could drive us? I'd really appreciate it."
To be continued:
Sorry to leave you all here. NOT!!!
I'm sorry it took me so long to post this chapter. That's the truth.
OK, we're one for one.
A special thanks to Ron, my editor for his fine work on this chapter.
If you like the story so far, and want more, e-mail me. Here's my addy: Justin69SK@aol.com
Oh, many of you may have noticed I moved my website. Here's the new URL: http://justincasescorner.homestead.com I'm sorry for any inconvenience this may have caused you. My site was attacked through an unauthorized link, on another site, and rendered disabled. This other site refused to remove the link after several requests by me. So in order to keep my work going I had to move. The other site is known as boylinks.net. I do not condone this site, nor recommend you view it.
DO NOT PLACE MY SITE URL ON ANOTHER WEBSITE WITHOUT MY PERMISSION. IT IS PROTECTED BY COPYRIGHT. I WILL USE EVERY LEGAL MEASURE TO ASSURE MY RIGHTS!!!!!!!