This story concerns teenage gay males who are involved in sexual situations. If it is illegal for you to read such stories, or if you do not like to read such stories, please leave now.

This chapter deals with a sexual encounter between an adult and a teenage boy. If you are offended by this type of sexual activity, please stop now and leave. Thank you for your consideration.

This story is copyright 2006 by the author who retains all rights.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

This is my second submission to Nifty. This is a continuation of “Kiel’s Story” which was last posted on 7/24/06. It is not necessary to read “Kiel’s Story” to enjoy this, but it may help you understand where the character relationships started. Any comments or questions are welcome at:

A warm thank you goes out to all who’ve written. I appreciate knowing someone is actually reading this stuff. I try to respond to all, including flames, but time is precious and if I haven't answered your email, I apologize.

Tim and the Corsair

by Carl Holiday

Chapter 1 – Some Things Never Change

Mother is not happy.

When Dad died a few months ago, she suddenly became the boss around here. Well, actually, she’d been boss for a long time, what with Dad out on the road all the time selling pipe, but now she was really boss. I’m a problem. She loves me. She has to, comes with the mother job, but she’s disappointed. I can tell by the look in her eyes.

I’m home. I get beat up at school and I get sent home. Somehow she doesn’t think that’s right. Of course, the bad guy went out with the police. He won’t be back. I have to go back. I’m not bad, just pathetic. She puts up a good front, but a kid can tell when a bit of love has been subtracted out of the equation. I wanted to cry. She left my room. I was alone.

The plate of dinner she brought up because I didn’t come down was on my desk next to an old volume of the Illiad. I’d been reading Virgil, again. I get sad and I read Latin or Greek. If I’m really bad, I read Russian. I’m teaching myself to read Sanskrit, too, but I’m not that sad, haven’t been in months.

I opened my closet door, squatted down to the foot locker, unlocked the latch, and opened it. Mr. Crowley was on top tucked under a little baby blue cotton blanket. Mr. Crowley is my teddy bear. I carefully picked him up and took him back to my bed. Sitting down, I held him close and started to weep. I wasn’t sad enough to blubber like a baby. I was only a little sad.

There was a knocked at my door. Mother opened it and looked at me. She smiled and stood out of the way. Sam came in. Mother closed the door.

“Hi,” Sam said. He walked over and sat beside me. He was wearing blue jeans and a brown, short-sleeved sweatshirt. He still had the penny loafers on. He’d shaved. There was a wad of shaving cream behind his ear. “Nice teddy bear. Does he have a name?”

“Mr. Crowley, meet Sam, uh, I don’t know your last name,” I said holding Mr. Crowley out so Sam could hold him.

“She’s going to call the hospital, isn’t she?”

“Yeah, she’s a mother. They have to do that. It comes with the job.”

I felt his hand take mine and softly hold it. He leaned his head against my shoulder. I heard him sigh.

“I liked sleeping with you in the hospital,” Sam said.

“I only remember you doing it once.”

“I did it almost every night. It made me feel good having your bare skin against mine.”

“Did you, you know, every time?”

“No, just that once.”

“That was nice. I liked you holding me.”

“You went to sleep.”

“I felt good, for once.”

“Can we be friends?”

“Will you go back?”

“If you want.”

“I don’t want you to, but I think you should if you have to.”

“Will you hold me?”

“Will you hold me?”

We lay down facing each other. Our arms threaded themselves between our bodies drawing us closer. He was weeping. I was crying. I fell asleep.

When I awoke the next morning, Sam was gone. It was early, an hour before the alarm was to go off. I heard a car in our driveway. From the streetlight, I could see Doctor Randall talking to Mother. Sam was sitting in the front seat. He looked sad. He was holding Mr. Crowley. I went to take a shower.

Later, sitting at breakfast—a bowl of puffed wheat with a sliced banana mixed in, a glass of orange juice, two slices of buttered cinnamon toast—I worked through my math problems from yesterday. It took about three mouthfuls of cereal to finish. It was too easy. I did the chapter pre-test while working on one piece of toast. I looked ahead in the book, trying to find something difficult, something I hadn’t done on my own in the months, weeks, days, years ago when I was bored with learning languages. There wasn’t anything new. I could probably do all the chapter tests on one rainy weekend if my hand didn’t get tired from writing.

“Good morning, honey,” Mother said walking into the kitchen. She was wearing a blue gingham dress with a white blouse. She had her pearl necklace. I noticed the wedding ring was gone. I hadn’t noticed it before. I wondered if she’d taken it off today or last week when I was in the hospital. I hated it when things happened and I didn’t notice them.

“Are you going to have a good day, today?” Mother asked. She sat down across the table from me. She was wearing a different perfume, it was lighter than the cheap shit she usually put on.

“If someone doesn’t hit me, I will.”

“Geoff, I want you to know we all want to help you.”

“I know. It’s just hard being sixteen. I didn’t think it’d be this hard being a teenager.”

“It doesn’t get any easier.”

“Did you call Doctor Randall?”

“You know I had to.”

“Yes, but Sam is nice.”

“We talked a little while this morning before Doctor Randall came. He’s a nice boy.”


“Timothy, uh, Doctor Randall said he might authorize Sam to visit you now and then. You’re certainly welcome to go out there.”


“We’re dating.”


“Is that okay?”

“He doesn’t seem, uh, well, he seems younger than you, not that I’m saying you’re old.”

“He’s only two years younger than me.”

“But, that mean’s he’s …”

“A lot older than you thought?”

“Yeah, but it’s okay with me. Are you happy?”

“He makes me laugh.”

“You said that about Dad.”

“Yes, but Timothy isn’t working and drinking himself to death.”

“Do you guys, I mean, oh forget it. It’s none of my business.”

“No, we don’t. And, no it is none of your business what we do. I don’t need your permission.”

“Can I get a lock for my door? I was thinking that something might happen in my bedroom you wouldn’t want Sally seeing, not that anything is going to happen.”

“I think that is a great idea, Geoff. I’ll get one and you can put it in. It’s time you start learning some household repair skills. You’re going to be on your own, soon enough.”

“I’ll have to get Tim to help, he’s more mechanically inclined.”

“Does Tim know about Sam?”


“Don’t hurt him, he’ll never forgive you.”

“I know.”

Tim was late getting to our house. He usually came for breakfast, but he hardly had time for a glass of orange juice. He was too chipper for me, bubbly. Our kiss was long, mellow. Our embrace lingered.

“You boys better get to school,” Mother said. It’s nice having a mother who doesn’t care her youngest son is gay. I have enough problems without having that one.

“You didn’t call last night,” Tim said sitting down with his orange juice.

“I had a friend over. Someone I met at the hospital.”

“Sam Black? About your height, seems uninterested in everything.”

“How do you know him?”

“He lives a couple houses from us on the lake. I know he was at the same hospital as you. I figured you’d met.”

“But, he doesn’t go to North Park.”

“St. Xaviers.”

“Oh. Catholic, huh?”

“Smart, too, like you.”


“Did he spend the night?”

I looked at him. He was getting to know me enough to ask the right questions. I wanted to get to know him just as well, but I was having too much trouble figuring myself out to concentrate on someone else.

“You didn’t tell me about sitting at the Fairy Table,” I said touching the bruise on my face. I iced it when I got home, but it was still blatantly noticeable from the broken capillaries.

“Sorry, I didn’t think. When Monica asked if you’d be there, I just assumed you’d wait for us. Dick Connor’s an SOB, but my dad knows his so he’s never hassled me. Are you okay?”

“If I wasn’t so doped up on this drug, I’d be embarrassed, but Billy wants to get me into some sort of fighting school.”


“Yeah, it’s on the nameplate on his desk: William A. “Billy” Washington, Boy’s Vice Principal.”

“Billy? That’s funny.”

“I wouldn’t make too much of it. I saw the paddle, too.”

“Is it as big as they say?”

“Bigger. Like an oar. It’d knock your tiny ass to the floor.”


“Sorry. Buttocks. Is that okay?”

“But, you’re not a fighter.”

“I told him, but he said he’s going to call Doctor Randall. He knows about Doctor Randall.”

“Tim, would you like some cinnamon toast to take with you?” Mother asked.

“No thank you, Mrs. Johnson. I’m okay. Come on Geoff, we’ll be late, again.”

I got up, put my bowl in the dishwasher, took my antidepressant, picked up my school books, and walked out the door. I stood on the back porch for a moment, then walked back into the kitchen. Mother was waiting. I kissed her on the cheek.

“I’ll try to have a good day,” I said. “I hope you have one, too.”

“Thank you, honey,” Mother said. “Tim, you have a good day, too.”

“Thanks Mrs. Johnson. Come on Geoff let’s go find out if they missed us last night.”

“Yeah, right.”

Tim pulled out of our driveway and headed straight down to Oak Park Boulevard. Traffic was still light enough for him to turn left at One Hundred Thirteenth. When he passed our turn of at One Hundred Thirtieth, I knew something was up. When he turned into War Memorial Park, I knew something was definitely up. I looked at his brown jeans. Brown jeans, that was it!

We circled around the Doughboy and turned into the Arboretum. Tim turned onto Grand Fir Lane and after a few seconds we came to the first parking area, it was full of cars. Well, only three, but there were only five parking spaces. The next one was full, too. At the next one, there was a man in a suit standing outside his car. He was short with a big middle-aged gut hanging over his belt. At the next one, there was only one other car. Tim pulled into the end space and turned off the Coupe. He turned to me and smiled.

“Your choice, in here, or in the redwood grove,” Tim said. He slid across the seat and his hand was on my zipper. He had me out and in his mouth before I could answer.

“Backseat,” I whispered. I opened my door and Tim followed me, closing the door behind him.

As soon as I lay down, he was on top of me, his mouth and hands working their magic. I reached up above me and unbuckled his belt. I had to hurry. Not only was I already on the edge from having Sam sleep with me last night, I knew Tim was probably fighting to keep himself in check. I pulled his jeans and briefs down all at once and put my lips over his erection. He let go in a sudden, shuddering orgasm filling my mouth with his warm come. I shut my eyes and felt my spine tingling. My cock burned with excitement and I couldn’t hold back any longer. I gave in and released myself into Tim. He was ravenous, taking me deep into his throat, kneading the juice from my balls with his fingers.

I heard a car door slam and I froze. Tim wasn’t moving, either. I looked up as Tim raised himself toward the rear window to look out. Then I saw the dribbles of come on the side window. I nudged Tim. He looked over toward the other car. I heard it start up.

“Dirty old fucker,” Tim said. “The bastard was watching.”

“Had a good show.”

“Yeah, but he needs a better hobby.”

“Come here, I didn’t get enough.”

He lowered his still erect dick into my mouth and began to slowly thrust, fucking my mouth. It didn’t take long. It never takes Tim long. He was off almost before I was ready, but stayed in my mouth long afterwards allowing me to caress his soft white ass.

“We’d better go,” Tim said, pulling out of me. “I’d like to stay here all day, but you have classes to make up.”

“I’d like to make up with you,” I said, pulling him back down on top of me and reaching for his softening cock with my mouth. “It’s been too long.”

“Did you do it with Sam?” Tim asked. He got to his knees and pulled up his briefs and brown jeans.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You know what I’m asking,” Tim said, putting my dick back where it belonged and zipping up my pants. He leaned down and kissed me hard and deep.

“No, not last night.”

“In the hospital?”

“Once, but I fell asleep before I did anything,” I said, following him to the front seat. He started the Coupe and backed out into the lane.

“You fell asleep?”

“Yeah, they keep you pretty drugged up in those places. I was still fairly dopey. I guess he slept with me every night, though.”

“He’s gay?”

“I don’t know, but he likes sleeping with me.”

“God, Sam Black gay. Are all you smart guys gay?”

“Don’t know. Haven’t met too many.”

“What about your honors class?”

“Hardly any of them are as smart as me, just good studiers. If you studied as hard as some of them, you could be in honors, too.”

“Yeah, but I don’t want to go to some smart-ass college. I’m going Navy ROTC. I can get that at North Park College.”

“You don’t want to go to New York with me?”

“New York?”

“Your Uncle Jerry wants me to go to Columbia.”

“Yeah, he went there after the war. You haven’t called him, yet.”

“Are you checking up on me?” I asked. I don’t know, but Tim seemed to be taking a little too much interest in me. I wasn’t certain what his motivations were, but he seemed controlling; or, maybe, I was being paranoid, again. Psycho Geoff Johnson can’t trust anyone, even his best, well, almost best friend.

“No, I’m just concerned about you. I care. Okay?”


Yeah, okay, if that’s the way you want it. I wondered if Sam sucked cock, too. Maybe he was a fucker, like Kiel. His dick felt kind of big that night in the hospital when he was fucking between my thighs. It felt good being held in his arms, his hand on my cock. Too bad I fell asleep.

How was I going to see Sam with Tim wanting to be with me so much? I wondered if Sam kissed. Some guys didn’t. Tim was never kissed once until I did it to him. All those years with Stevie fucking him and never kissed. Kind of made one think about what kind of weirdo Stevie really was. But, Stevie did kiss me, but not a lot. My lips were around his dick more than on his lips. Maybe Stevie didn’t like to kiss guys. Oh, well, he was dead and I had Tim, and now, maybe, Sam too.


I don’t know why I was on the bus heading toward Uncle Jerry’s apartment on Beacon Hill. Tim was at a University football game with his dad. UCLA was in town to beat the local losers and Tim said he had to go, something about a business deal his dad was working on. I don’t know what role Tim was playing, but he couldn’t get out of it and I couldn’t get out to see Sam, so I didn’t have anything to do. I’d called Uncle Jerry earlier in the week about fighting lessons Vice Principal Washington was trying to get me in and, well, I ended up getting invited over to Uncle Jerry’s.

It’s not that I was scared of going to his apartment, I was scared of being alone with him. I still expected him to put some kind of move on me and I didn’t know if I could resist the temptation to have sex with an older man. I thought of all the experience he’d already had, all the ways one man could love another, all the things I was bound to find out for myself over the next few years or so, but to learn everything now when I was just sixteen, that would be something. Only I was scared shitless that very thing might happen.

The bus ride up to the apartment took nearly two hours and went through some areas of Seattle where I was, other than the driver, the only white person on the bus. I sat in my seat trying to look inconspicuous as the bus filled, emptied, then filled again with various minorities. I wasn’t used to being amongst these people. Other than Vice Principal Washington and the housekeeper at Tim’s house, I never saw any black people in North Park. We had a Chinese family who lived on our block, but no one talked to them. I knew they had kids, but they were younger than me so I never had any reason to go near their house.

When I finally got off across the street from Uncle Jerry’s apartment, the bus was nearly full of little old ladies who I couldn’t place. Most of them spoke some sort of foreign language, but I couldn’t pick up enough to get an idea where in the world they came from. There was Spanish, English, and this other language in their speech, all jumbled together. I was going to ask someone what they were talking, but that would require courage and I didn’t have any of that. I stood on the curb watching the bus pull out into traffic wishing I wasn’t so pathetic I couldn’t talk to strangers.

“Geoff, come on in boy,” Uncle Jerry said. “Let me get your coat. Did you have any trouble getting here?”

I told him about the bus ride and the people on the bus when I got off.



“Filipinos, they’re from the Philippines. They live all around here. Nice people. My secretary’s parents are from Leyte. Didn’t you talk to anyone?”

“No, I don’t talk to other people,” I said looking at the floor.

“Come on, let’s get comfortable in the living room,” Uncle Jerry said putting his arm across my back, his hand on my shoulder.

I flinched from his touch.

“Steady boy, I’m not wearing my foot. You’re going to have to support me.”

I looked down at the empty pants leg. It felt weird having his hand on my shoulder. My dad had done the same thing a lot of times and it never meant anything to me, but I was expecting something from this man, so I guess it was only natural I’d jump at his touch.

“Sorry,” I said. He hopped as I steadied him, walking slowly to the living room. I sat in the sofa and was not surprised he sat next to me. He put his hand behind me and began to slowly massage my neck.

“Still think I’m going to suck your dick, or something?”

“Or, something.”

“Do you want me to?”

“Yes, no, I don’t know.”

“You know what jailbait is?”

“Yeah, me.”

“Yeah, you.”

“But, Tim said you sucked Stevie.”

“That stupid bastard? Yeah, I gave him a blow job. Probably the worst one he ever had, fucking straight bastard.”


“The kid wasn’t queer.”

“But, he and I were, and Tim and him.”

“There was no Tim and him. It was just him fucking my nephew. What were you doing for him?”

“Sucking his dick. He sucked me sometimes, too.”

“All the time?”

“No, not all the time, but he said, fucking asshole was using me, too. Damn it, I thought he was my best friend. Fuck! Everyone I’ve talked to has said what a bastard Stevie was. Do you know what that makes me feel like?”

“Like you’re a pushover?”

“Yeah, and probably worse. Fuck!”

“Do you want to?”



“You can’t do that.”

“You’d be surprised what I can and can’t do. Come to my boudoir the spider said to the fly.”

And, before I could say Christopher Columbus sailed the ocean blue, I was on his bed on my back, naked, with a pillow under my ass. He was naked, too. Other than the missing limbs, he looked normal from the back.

“What do you like? Long and thick, long and narrow, short and thick, or something like Tim’s?”

“Tim’s is too small. Why do you ask?”

“Sexual aids,” Uncle Jerry said turning around. “Dildos. Strap-ons. Tim’s family business. How about this one, not too long, not too thick, just right for a beginner.”

He put it on and suddenly he was a guy with an erection. He hopped over to the bed and got on his knees.

“Hand me the lube, it’s in that drawer. The surgeons left a bit of nerve right where my clitoris would be if I wanted to become a woman, but I didn’t. If I put this on right, I’ll get a wonderful sensation as I’m doing you. Do I have to tell you how to do this?”

“No, I’ve had that lesson.”

“Mind telling me where?”

“County psych ward.”

“Nice place for a teenager, fucking county bureaucrats. They should all be taken out and shot for all the good they do anyone.”

“We don’t have to do this,” Uncle Jerry said. “You can say no.”

“I’m all lubed up and ready to go,” I said. “Long and slow.”

“Long and slow.”

Jerry was taking a shower. I dropped the uncle and he didn’t mind. I felt wonderful. I hadn’t felt this good in months. I knew it was wrong for me to have let him do what he did to me, but I didn’t care what anyone might think about a sixteen year old boy getting fucked my a forty year old man. I didn’t have a care in the world. Everything in my life had come to fruition. I was complete, whole.

I was standing on the wrong side of the railing on his balcony, barely holding on with my hands. I could see the parking lot below, nothing between me and the ground below. Head first, head first, I kept it going through my mind, head first. Hit bottom with your head and it would explode is a mass of bloody tissue, instantaneous death. Hit bottom with your feet and there was an agonizing moment before death hopefully took over as every bone in your body slowly shattered from the impact. Head first.

I was at peace.

“Oh, shit!”

A hand was around my neck. I was falling backwards. I briefly saw Jerry’s face before my head slammed into the concrete balcony turning off awareness.

I woke up briefly. I was in an ambulance. I could hear Jerry talking. The attendant looked at me, smiled. I smiled, then everything was gone.

I woke up in the emergency room. I saw one of the doctors who fucked me at County. The fucker was cutting my pants off. A little bump on the head and the pervert had to get his jollies looking at a teenager’s little dick. I wanted to scream at the bastard. I saw Doctor Randall talking to Jerry.

I woke up in a room. Eighth floor County General, you can tell by the numbers on the outlets, fixtures, TVs, beds, and the paint on the walls. Eighth floor was green. It was the only medical pediatric floor that was green. I was in a two bed private room. The other kid was eight, maybe ten. His parents were hovering over him. He looked kind of out of it. There was an IV in his arm.

I turned my head back to the other side. Mother was sitting in a chair. Doctor Randall was talking to her. He looked pissed. Sam was looking out the window. He looked at me and smiled.

“I want you to know I’m upset,” Doctor Randall said. I looked towards him and could see he was pissed. “I expected a little more responsibility on your part.”

My head hurt. I didn’t say anything.

“Geoff, Doctor Randall is talking to you,” Mother said. I didn’t look at her. I was still staring at Sam. He was still smiling.

“Yeah, well, he hasn’t asked me a question,” I said.

“Don’t get smart with me, boy,” Mother said. She was mad. She only called me boy when she was mad.

“Geoff? Your mother wants to take you home,” Doctor Randall said. I turned my head to look at him. “Personally, I prefer you coming out to the hospital for a few days, but I’m going to let her take you home.”

“Thank you,” I said, smiling. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what made me do it. I was in the apartment, then I was outside, standing on the wrong side of the railing. Honest, I don’t know why.”

“It’s okay, Geoff,” Doctor Randall said. “Sometimes those things happen. I’m going to change your medication, give you something that will help you in those situations. You’ll stay here tonight, then go home tomorrow.”

“Doctor Randall?”

“Yes, Geoff.”

“One of the men who attacked me in the psych ward was in the emergency room. He cut off my pants.”

“Okay, Geoff, I’ll take care of it. Now, I want you to get some sleep.”

“Can Jerry come to see me?”

“He’s out in the hall. I’ll tell Sam to have him come in when we leave. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Mother kissed me on the lips. She’s never done that. It was a light, familial kiss, something you might give a dead relative. She followed Doctor Randall out of the room.

“Your head’s bandaged,” Sam said, walking over to my bed. “I guess you took quite a hit. Doctor Tim said you have stitches.”

“Why are you here?”

“Because Doctor Tim thinks I might be able to help you.”

“Tim told me about you.”

“Tim is nice. I like him. I like you better.”

“Tim might be my best friend.”

“Okay, I’ll be your lover.” He leaned over the bed and kissed me. His lips lingered on mine. His hand held my chin.

“Will you be at my house tomorrow?”

“For a while when Doctor Tim comes in.”


Jerry came in. He looked very sad, very concerned. If he had a dick, I would’ve sucked it.

“I’m sorry to have caused you so much trouble,” I said. I took his hand in mine and brought it to my lips. I kissed it. “You saved my life.”

“That’s okay, Geoff, I’m used to it,” he said. “I usually deal with veterans who can’t accept what bullets and shrapnel have done to their bodies. A lot of them try the same thing you did. I’m used to saving lives.”

“That wasn’t my first time,” I said, still holding his hand. I wanted him to have a dick. I wanted it in my mouth. I wanted his dildo in my ass. I wanted his lips on mine.

“I know, I talked to Doctor Randall,” he said. “I’m going to be helping you, too. I guess there are a lot of us who want to see you make it.”

I beckoned him down to me, close.

“Will you fuck me, again?” I whispered. “I liked it long and slow.”

“Anytime, kid, anytime.”

“Thank you.”

I lay my head back against the pillow and closed my eyes. I dreamt of a bridge, a high bridge of above a city. I dreamt of falling into a meadow of flowers. Baby rabbits were playing around the place where I fell. I smelled the sweet scent of wild flowers. A dick, an erection, was thrusting into me. I screamed. I screamed. I screamed.

I woke up and Doctor Randall was holding my hand.

“I dreamt that …” I started to say.

“It was no dream, Geoff. We have an armed guard outside your door. Concussion or not, we’re getting you home tonight. Okay?”

“Yeah, okay.”

I didn't care, I was such a loser, such a pathetic loser. I deserved to die. The world was going to be better off when I finally got the nerve to let go and plummet to my death.