Date: Sat, 14 Jun 2003 19:59:46 EDT
From: Writersrealmmm@aol.com
Subject: In Skater's Time 23

In Skater's Time

Chapter 23
Who R U?

"Z, they think once you suck a cock, you stop being a man. When they find
out a cocksucker is willing to kick their ass, it scares hell out of
them. You've just got to know how they think. All that guy saw was some
crazed muscle bound faggot that didn't know the rules and wanted a piece of
his skinny ass."

					*****

The last report on the book is, they are running two test copies to make
sure it is satisfactory before my copies are run. We should be pretty
close.

For a more complete update or for order information, go to:

www.writersrealm.net

Or send your $18.00 including S&H to:

Rick Beck
PO 5749
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...And your signed copy of Antiques & homicide will soon be on its way to you



In Skater's Time
Chapter 23
Who R U?

Getting Paul out of bed wasn't easy. In fact it went against what I felt
because all I could think about was, him fucking me again. He had no desire
to get up and circulate and at first he held his side, like there was a
great pain he was trying to hold back. I wasn't sure the pain came from the
operation or not.

I got him into the kitchen and decided I'd feed him but my talent in that
area was limited at best. I found Hormel Chili and Saltines, an only half
rotted onion, and once I cut the mold off of the cheese, it didn't look all
that bad once it was shredded.

While the saucepan was bubbling away, I discovered macaroni noodles and
knew to use water to cook those. I turned down the Hormel and turned up the
saucepan of water, dumping in most of the noodles. Once they looked soft
enough, I poured the chili on the noodles, chopped onions on top of the
chili, dumping that cheese on top of that, and shoving the entire affair
into the microwave for good measure. After putting it on for three minutes,
two minutes, and then three minutes again, because I had no clue how long
such things took and I kept changing my mind, I then plopped it down in
front of a suspicious looking Paul along with a plate full of Saltines. I
wasn't about to dive into it first and he was already sick, so better him
than me. I could always go home and get some of my mother's food.

"Not bad," he said, after moving it around for some time with his spoon,
and then, confident I wouldn't purposely poison him, he started to eat. He
cleaned his bowl and asked for more and finished that and then ate some
Butter Pecan ice cream that he kept hidden behind all the frozen vegetables
in the freezer. He actually acted like he had a little energy once he was
done.

"Kenny won't get within a mile of anything green or yellow. That's how I
hide my Klondike Bars and ice cream from him."

"Oh," I said, "You look as though you're feeling better."

"Not really. I just haven't eaten much lately. We ran out of TV dinners and
he's been hanging with Craig, so he isn't around."

"Up at SDSU?"

"Yeah, he's thinking of going there to."

"Aren't you worried they'll do to him what they did to you?" I asked,
concerned for his hot brother.

"He should be so lucky. Look, Kenny can teach them a thing or two. You
don't have to worry about him. He was going out with grown men when I was
still figuring out how to jack off."

"That's not funny," I said.

"It wasn't meant to be. Kenny was always ahead of me. I told you that. Why
do you question what I tell you anyway?"  "I just never did anything until
the last year. How could he start so young. He's my age."

"Z, some guys start young and fund stuff out. Other guys wait and find
stuff out later on. It's the way it is."

"It doesn't seem right he's going up there with college guys."

"You jealous?" Paul asked.

"No, I've got you. They can be jealous."

"I'm not doing you any good."

"You could, you know," I said, snuggling up against him and rubbing his
arm.

"Z, I'm not in the mood."

"Why not?"

"I don't feel like much of anything right now. I'm tired and sore."

I stood beside his chair and felt his hair, the sides of his almost ready
to shave face, and then felt his chest and arms.

"I don't know, you feel like something to me. My dick's hard."

"Z, is that all you think about."

"Hardly. We haven't done anything since forever."

I continued feeling his hard chest and let my fingers dip down below his
belly button and inside the waistband of his boxers. As my fingers touched
his wiry pubes, he seized my wrist and wouldn't allow me to feel any
further. What a bummer.

"What?" I asked innocently.

"I'm not in the mood, I said."

"You're not in the mood? I think your problem is that you aren't making any
effort to be in the mood. At least you could try."

"Get off it, Z. My life isn't about you sucking my dick all the time."

"Paul, we haven't done anything in quite some time. I'll just get it hard
and sit on it."

"Z!"

"I will. Come on, Paul. Just for a few minutes. I know you can get it up."

"So! I've just had an operation. Give me a break."

"Yeah, last week. Use it or lose it stud. I'm just trying to do you a favor
and save you from a life of impotency."

"So I lose it. No big deal," Paul said, unconcerned about my concern.

"I wouldn't go so far as to say that. It's a pretty big deal if your hung
like me. I worry you'll stop liking me because mine is so small," I said,
trying to get some kind of rise out of him.

"Size doesn't have anything to do with anything," he said, quitting there.

"Oh, I don't know. I think whatever size you are has a lot to do with
everything but someone your size is more likely to think size is no big
thing for a guy my size."

"I'm not in the mood. Just leave it alone."

"We've established that to a certainty. Now the question becomes have you
lost interest in me in particular or sex in general."

"Z, everything isn't about you."

"When you're talking like you're talking and acting like you're acting, it
has everything to do with me. I'm the guy that loves you and that means I
have a strong interest in your sexual function."

"I don't care any more is all. It isn't worth it. I keep thinking I can
change things but I can't. It'll never change, Z. They're always going to
hate us."

"Now what are we talking about? Who gives a fuck about them? They haven't
got the sense God gave a jackass. They want to destroy anything that
doesn't look, act, and smell like them. They're the ones that are
deficient, not us."

"We're talking about me getting my ass kicked. I thought I could fight back
but I can't fight that."

"You didn't get your ass kicked, Paul, you were jumped."

"...And they kicked my ass, Z. Wake up."

"I watched you go after three guys without even thinking twice about it. I
know you aren't as big a pussy as you're acting like you are."

"So what. What does that prove? I've got a temper and I don't like someone
trying to act like they're better than me, when I know they aren't."

"I would never take on three guys no matter what I thought. You got huge
balls, Paul, and I don't mean to just hold in your hand. Nothing scares you
and now you act like a sissy. Okay, you got your ass kicked. Not only did
they have to hit you from behind but there were three of them to boot. They
were afraid to take you on face to face. I think you won Paul. They might
have hurt you but they weren't man enough to face you."

"That's true," Paul said, seeing something he hadn't seen.  "One of them
had something on the toe of his boot. It was like a cut or something. They
were shinny and all polished up but an inch from the toe was this cut mark
a couple of inches long."

"How can you be sure. You don't remember anything."

"I saw that toe just before he kicked me in the face. I remember that
mark. I remember those boots," he said, seeing it again and wincing when he
got to the part when the boot connected with his face.

"It takes courage to face down three guys at one time. It takes courage to
get up when someone knocks you down."

"No it doesn't. There's no trick to it, Z. I knew they'd back down."

"How could you know those three wouldn't go after you that night in front
of the theater? There were three of them."

"Z, they think once you suck a cock, you aren't a man. When they find out a
cocksucker is willing to kick their ass, it scares hell out of them. You've
just got to know how they think. All he saw was some crazed faggot that
didn't know the rules and wanted a piece of his skinny ass."

"Why do they think we won't fight them? How do you know this stuff?"

"It's how they're taught. We're supposed to be women with dicks. That's the
perception because we like men. They don't have a clue. We play soccer,
box, and some of us even like fighting. If we don't act like they expect us
to act it scares them. They don't want to think we can be as good as they
are at something, better."

"You've got balls, Paul. I don't know why you're pretending you don't,
because you do. I've never thought of fighting anyone over me wanting to
love a guy. Why cause trouble? It just never occurred to me but I can't see
you backing down from anyone."

"I don't cause the trouble, Z, but there comes a time when you better stand
up for yourself or someone's going to fuck you up. I'm not going to pretend
I don't like guys because it makes other guys nervous. If they've got a
problem with me all they need to do is come say it to my face. I'll discuss
my right to date, kiss, or fuck anyone I damn well please," he said,
sounding more sure of himself than he had a few minutes before.

"Yeah, right. All those guys wanted to do, is go see a movie once you came
at them. I don't know I could ever do that. I don't know many guys would,
straight or gay. It would be easier to simply let it go. Let their tiny
minds go on thinking their tiny thoughts."

"Probably most of us don't like the odds. When you see yourself as an
outsider and you come up against insiders, well, it seems like there are a
lot of them and damn few of us. The right and wrong of it doesn't enter
into it. It's the numbers that makes it okay for them to run us down."

"It still takes courage to confront ignorance and you got it. Courage, I
mean."

"Not if it's your ass you're standing up for. I want a life, Z. I don't
want to hide in the shadows and feel like a criminal. I want to love and
that shouldn't be a crime. With all the hatred and anger and abuse in this
country, why can't I love who I want? I'm going to love who in the hell I
want and they're going to have to stop me from doing it... if they
can... and they can't stop all of us forever. We've just got to do what we
do."

This he thought about and he felt the bandages around his waist. Paul was
angry again. I didn't particularly like him when he was angry but it was a
lot better than seeing him the way he was.

"So you aren't just going to stay here and lay around all summer feeling
sorry for yourself."

"No. I don't guess I am. Not with you bugging the shit out of me."

"Well maybe we can go in the bedroom and we can talk about the first thing
that comes up," I said.

"Z."

"You've got to be horny, Paul. You're always horny. I'm always
horny. Please, let's do something, anything. I need sex. I want to make
love to you. Is all that talk about loving who you want to love and fucking
who you want to fuck just talk or you going to show me what you got, big
boy?"

"You're hopeless. Let me digest that meal and take a pain pill, and maybe
an antacid. We'll see what comes up after that."

I kissed his eyes, his nose, and his lips. I wanted to straddle him but I
didn't want to hurt him, so I backed off.

					*****

My father came before I could talk Paul back into the bedroom and I really
wanted to get him in the bedroom. Being on house arrest wasn't much fun and
all time away from home was precious.

My mother continued her silence and my father continued trying to reason
with her. He kept telling me it would take time and for the first time in a
while I looked forward to school. Kenny kept me updated on the goings on at
his house and I spent hours on the phone with Paul each night.

I knew how horny he was because we discussed it at length and while he
refused to engage in phone sex, I had no such inhibitions, and more than
once he stopped his chatter to listen to my visions of him as I reached the
final act. I could hear him panting on the other end, so I knew I was
getting to him.

I then talked my father into taking Paul to get his stitches out. I know he
was suspicious when Paul and I sat in the backseat, but he didn't say
anything. While Paul was totally reluctant to let me touch him, even
through his jeans, I did end up with my hand in his pocket and even managed
to use his excess skin to massage him to full erect pleasure with only one
layer of material separating me from it.

Unfortunately we reached the hospital before I finished him off and he was
beside himself with embarrassment, not being able to get his too short
shirt down far enough to completely cover the obvious evidence of our
misbehavior. It wasn't mentioned and by the time they were done with Paul,
his ability to get hard was greatly diminished, not to mention his desire
to do so.

My father questioned Paul on the ride home but even he felt sorry for him
and he could see h was in obvious discomfort. I walked him to the door and
leaned to kiss him good night as my father sat at the curb. I couldn't help
it. I wanted Paul so bad.

I tried to talk my father into leaving me at Paul's, to take care of him of
course but he didn't want any more trouble with my mother. So I was still
left wanting, although all Paul was wanting was to go to bed, after getting
all those stitches out and I could understand that.

We were relegated to phone contacts for the next few days but Thursday dad
said I could go out with Paul, who was feeling better, on Friday. My father
even dropped us off at the mall so I could get Paul out and about, but we
should have stayed at home.

I still had one thing on my mind and we talked about taking a cab to his
house after catching some pizza and maybe walking for a while so he could
get some exercise. I'd already described what I was going to do to him, two
or three times in fact, with the desired results coming out of my detailed
description. I sat eating pizza with one of my hands in his crotch and Paul
was finally back on track for some sexual pursuits and his equipment wasall
in tip top shape.

As we headed for the front entrance I was startled when Paul grabbed a guy
and proceeded to punch him in the face. He was a tall skinny kid but way
tall and built pretty solid for a teenager, but none of that made much
difference as Paul pummeled him and I tried to pull him off, worried more
about his operation than the boy he went after.

The mall security and the cops came and in no time at all we ended up on
our way to the police station. The kid had two black eyes, a busted lip,
and a totally red face from being hit so many times. One of the cops who
had taken our statements at Scripps came to remove the handcuffs from Paul
and I.

"I didn't do anything," I said.

"He didn't do anything," Paul said, sounding somewhat subdued.

"You mind telling me what this is about?"

"That guy. He's the one that kicked me," Paul said, looking in the
direction of the tall kid with the red face.

"Him? Come on. Why would that kid be dumb enough to go after you? It
doesn't make any sense, son. Even if he is one of the guys that jumped you,
you can't do that. You're not a cop. I'm a cop. I get to do that. There are
rules, you know. Why do you think it was him?"

"His boot. It's got that cut on it. The one that kicked me in the head,"
Paul said, feeling the side of the face as he spoke.

"You never said anything about a cut on the boot to me."

"He did to me. We were talking about it last week and he told me about the
top of the boot an inch from the toe. There was a cut. The boots were
shinny. Well polished."

"You wait here and let me check them out before we start a whole nother
scuffle. You just sit her quiet. He's waiting for his old man. You are
getting charged with assault. Let me see if I can't slow things down until
I can run a check on his boots."

"Fuck, Paul. Is that what this is about?"

"Yeah, thems the boots, Z. I saw them and I just went off. Sorry!"

"That little boy? Come on. He'd have to be crazy and he doesn't look
crazy."

"He had help," Paul said.

That was true but it didn't fit. Why would that squirt go after someone
like Paul?

"Your operation okay?"

"Yeah, I don't feel anything," Paul said, feeling his side.

The cop came back carrying the boots. Paul's eyes open wide as they locked
on the toe.

"That's them. Those are the boots. That one kicked me in the face," Paul
said, pointing to the boot with the cut and squinting when he said the
words. "He's the guy."

"Well, it'll be easy enough to prove. We took enough pictures of your face
and there were impressions made of the pattern of the boot sole. It's
pretty distinctive and this definitely resembles the mark that I saw on
your face. If you get out of this you're about the luckiest kid I know. I'm
not sure we can do anything for you. His old man is madder than a
hornet. I've told them not to book you yet. I'll do what I can for you."

"How do you think I feel?" Paul said. "Those are the boots."

"I don't know but you'll be lucky to feel like a free man. I'm not sure we
won't have to lock you up. You got anyone that'll bail you out? Your old
man around this time?"

"No," Paul said. "I'm an adult."

"That's a matter of opinion. How's that scar coming?" The cop asked.

"Okay! A bit tender."

"Well, you two work on who you want to call. I'll see what I can stir
up. Don't give up yet but I wouldn't bet you'll be sleeping in your own
beds tonight."

"Can we get a cell together?" I asked.

"Z!" Paul said. "He didn't do anything but pull me off the kid.

"Why are you doing this. You didn't seem all that interested at the
hospital?" I asked.

"With that loud mouth you were with making an ass out of himself. No, we
weren't too sympathetic. My partner has a son that's gay. Everyone isn't
your enemy but for that guy, I'd make an exception."

"Oh, I wasn't with him," I said.

"Well, you were, and there wasn't any use in talking to him. He made up his
mind we were there to screw Paul over and that's all he wanted to know. My
partner wanted to lock him up but we didn't want to have to listen to his
lip."

"That's funny," I sad. "Yeah, I'll call my father. Hey, thanks."

"Sure kid. Why don't you get a leash for this guy? He obviously needs
someone to keep him out of trouble."

"I'll look into that, after I call my father. He'll want to shoot him and
then we won't need the leash."

"Z!" Paul said.

"Have at it," the cop said, walking away with the boots as the kid now sat
in his sock feet between his two friends, looking a little less cocky than
he looked a few minutes before.

I wondered if that could be the guy. It made no sense. Paul seemed
sure. The cop seemed pretty sympathetic, unlike when we had to deal with
him while Craig made us all look like asses.

"I wish we had stayed at your house," I said, pressing down on the lump in
my pants.

"Yeah, we would have been better off. I'm sorry, Z."

"That's not what I mean. I'm going to rape you if you don't give it up
pretty soon. My dicks been hard for a week and I finally thought tonight
was the night, and now this shit. Why can't life just get back to normal?"

I called my father. Needless to say he wasn't amused. I begged him to bail
Paul out if they locked him up and he didn't say no, but he hadn't showed
up yet. I wasn't sure what he would do but I worried he might forbid me
from seeing Paul again.

					*****

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