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 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 chapter has a part that describes sexual abuse. The author does not condone this type of behavior, but the activity described is critical to a specific character’s personality. Also, this chapter describes a violent assault on a child. The author does not condone this type of behavior, either, but, as with the previous case, the activity described is critical to a specific character.

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: carl_holiday@att.net

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 in my life, so if I didn’t answer yours, please accept my apology.


Tim and the Corsair

by Carl Holiday

Chapter 5 – A Day With Peter

I was crying when I woke up New Years Day. I’d never done that before, actually wake up practically blubbering. The dream had been about Mr. Jones and Mr. Smith torturing me to tell them where Tim was hiding. I’d been having nightmares, but this was the first dream where I wasn’t shocked awake. This dream seemed to go on forever as Mr. Jones’ cue stick and knife bruised and bloodied me. Each jab, slice, poke, scrape was accompanied by Mr. Smith asking his questions in a whiney sing-song. I was crying, asking them to stop. I was screaming as the pain slowly increased until I couldn’t take anymore of it; and, then I saw it was Tim who was being tortured. I woke up with tears streaming out of my eyes, snot clogging my nose, and my lips soaked with drool. I reached for Sam, but he was not in the bed.

I looked at the alarm clock. It was ten after nine. Mother set out New Years brunch at exactly ten o’clock. Dad went first and always took the two fried eggs, leaving the scrambled eggs for my older brother Karl, my older sister Trudy, and me. I could smell the bacon cooking. Mother was still doing brunch even though Dad was dead, Karl was somewhere in Southeast Asia keeping the Communist dominoes from falling into Australia, and Trudy living in Oregon where she was attending college. Of course, we now had Doctor Randall, Sam, Johnny, and Peter, plus Trudy was bringing Sally back home sometime around noon, so there were sufficient people for brunch.

I figured Sam was in the bathroom, but when I opened the door he wasn’t in there. I took care of my problem then when across the hall to Johnny’s room. The door was open and the bed had been made. No one was in the room. Something was up and no one told me.

When I got back to my room I saw the note leaning against the Corsair.
Geoff,
Johnny and I have gone to Mark’s to watch football games. We’ll have fun when I get back.
Hugs,

Sam

I stared at the words wondering why he hadn’t told me yesterday or whenever he received the invitation. Sam was certainly going all out to win Mark’s friendship. At least I didn’t have to worry about Sam seducing Mark, or did I?

When I entered the kitchen Doctor Randall was drinking coffee while Mother worked at putting the brunch together.

“Morning, Geoff,” Doctor Randall said. “Have any New Years’ resolutions?”

“Yeah, get a new shrink,” I said. “Mother, did you know Peter and Johnny went to Mark’s for the day?”

“Yes we did, honey. Timothy just got back from taking them over there. Why would you want to change psychiatrists? Timothy has been treating you for a long time.”

“I don’t want to talk to my step-father about personal things,” I said.

“But, honey, Timothy isn’t your step-father.”

“Yet, you mean.”

“Geoff, are you upset that I’m here?” Doctor Randall asked. He had his psychiatrist face on. I wasn’t certain which face I liked best; this one or the “I fucked your mother last night” face.

“No, Sam, Johnny, and Peter need you and I understand you have to be here, but I don’t think I’ll be able to be open with you like I have been. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Geoff, I understand. I don’t think it’ll be a problem, but I’ll try to find you someone else. Now, I think you should go wake up Peter and tell him he has to wear clothes to brunch.”

“Yes, sir,” I said to the step-father face.

Since the boys moved in, Peter had been spending most of his time in his underwear. No one said anything because the boys were getting settled; and, it really wasn’t that big of a problem since Sally was down in Oregon with her sister. That was going to change today.

After not hearing an answer to my knock, I opened Peter’s door and saw him sleeping peacefully in his bed with Mr. Crowley held firmly against his chest. The bedcovers were down around his ankles. He was naked. He had a hard-on and it was trying its best to fuck Mr. Crowley. Well, the teddy bear was practically half as big as he was. Peter was small, short, wiry, not skinny. He had dark brown, wavy hair. His skin was white, translucent like parchment. I wished my right arm wasn’t in a cast braced up at a ninety degree angle in front of me to heal my collarbone as I wanted to pick him up and hold him to me; except, I couldn’t bend over because my left leg was still in the cast to heal my kneecap; the badges of a loser.

I sat down on the bed behind Peter and lightly touched his shoulder.

“Come on, Johnny, let me put it in,” he whispered. “I love you, Johnny.”

“Peter? It’s time to wake up,” I said, not loud, as I jostled his shoulder.

“Huh, oh, fuck!”

He scrambled for something to cover himself, but then simply lay back on the pillow with his stiff dick pointing up at me. He shut is eyes and said, “Rub it for a sec’, will ya?”

I knew what he wanted and I didn’t care. I wrapped my hand around his erection and started to jerk him. He was ready, readier than I thought because I hadn’t gotten up to a good rhythm before globs of semen shot out of him hitting him in the forehead, chin, neck, and down his chest.

“Thanks, the teddy bear wasn’t in the mood,” Peter said, opening his eyes and staring into mine. They were dark orbs full of desired and mischief; our own little Loki.

“I shouldn’t have done that,” I said. “You know that, don’t you?”

“Yeah, I won’t tell Sam. Am I supposed to get up now?”

“Yes, and take a shower. Brunch is at ten. You don’t have much time because you’ll have to help me with my sponge bath.”

“Can I suck your dick, too?”

“No! You need to put clothes on, today. Mother wants you to look nice for brunch; and, Sally is coming home, today. She doesn’t need to see a randy thirteen year old running around here in his underwear.”

“Almost fourteen.”

“Okay, almost fourteen. Now, get up and get in the shower.”

“Why can’t I suck you?”

“Because.”

“Because why?”

“Because that’s Sam’s dick.”

“God, Geoff! I don’t want to put it in a shoebox. I just want your dick in my mouth. It’s not my fault Sam isn’t here.”

“Did you know about them being gone, too?”

“Everybody knows.”

“Not, me.”

“Sam didn’t tell you?”

“No.”

I guess he thought I was going to cry because he sat up and put his arms around me pulling me into a very close and firm hug.

“You’re getting come all over my robe,” I said, pushing him away from me. “Now, get in the shower. When you’re done put some clothes on and come upstairs to help me. Maybe I will let you suck me.”

“Great, I’ll be out in a minute,” he said getting in a quick peck on my lips before heading for the toilet he shared with Sam. “Grab me some briefs and whatever else you want me to wear. I can never decide.”



Needless to say, brunch was not a great success as far as I was concerned. I guess that’s what happens to family traditions when parents die and the kids drift away into their own lives. It was just Mother and me now. Doctor Randall and Peter were there, but Doctor Randall wasn’t Dad and Peter wasn’t Karl, Trudy, or Sally. Mother had planned on having Sam and Johnny there, but without them our little party had little cheer. I think Mother’s biggest problem was that she wasn’t used to having four crazy boys in her house. It was bad enough putting up with my near death experiences all the time, but to have three more teenage boys whose last residence was a four bed ward in a private psychiatric hospital was a bit too much to expect. She was getting a little frazzled herself.

Peter looked cute in the faded blue jeans I laid out for him. They made his ass looked totally, absolutely desirable. He tried to be a nice, normal thirteen, almost fourteen, year old boy, but he wasn’t raised by his mother to be anything close to nice or normal. When he was helping with my sponge bath—and, no, I did not let him suck my dick—Peter told me about growing up with a mother whose best friend was her pusher/pimp. He’d spend time in foster care then come home when his mother was sober then it was off to another foster home when she started shooting up again. When he was seven she started renting him out to men who liked little boys. She’d take the money to buy drugs, first, then food, second, and if there was anything left after that it went for rent and utilities. When he was eleven he started going out on his own to find men. When he was twelve he discovered the happiness hidden in the stuff his mother was injecting into her veins. He was nearly thirteen when luck almost ran out and he was picked up by a man who couldn’t get an orgasm unless his victim was bruised and bleeding. Peter’s last bit of luck was screaming loud enough for someone to call the cops. After spending some time at the county juvenile facility, he was sent out to Doctor Randall at the psycho farm.

We sat at the dinette eating eggs, bacon, pastries, and drinking, Mother’s special treat for New Years, orange juice laced with curacao and rum. I don’t know whether Doctor Randall approved, but I could tell Peter knew exactly what was in the juice and probably in what proportions. Unfortunately for him, children only get one ten ounce glass. You have to make it last because you’re not going to get another one until next year. Peter whined so much that Doctor Randall sent him to his room. This definitely wasn’t turning out to be a memorable New Years.

After helping to clean up, I went to Peter’s door and knocked. He didn’t answer. I wanted company today, so I broke a house rule and opened the door. All of Peter’s clothes were piled in the floor beside his bed. He was under the covers holding Mr. Crowley. I could barely hear him softly weeping. He didn’t move when I sat down on his bed and began to lightly caress his bare shoulder.

“What can I do to make your day special?” I asked. I didn’t want him sulking or worse, staying in bed all day.

“Lick my ass while I jack off, then shove that dick of yours up my ass and fuck me like you’ve never fucked before.”

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“But . . .”

“No, buts. I haven’t been rimmed in over a year and that guy wanted me to come all over his belly then rub it all over his dick before he made me sit down on his cock. You can’t imagine, Geoff. You can’t imagine what it felt like having his tongue in my ass.”

I sat there on his bed as he stared at me. I’d never done that or had that done to me. I’d heard about it from Kiel, but actually wanting to do it was way down on my list of things to be accomplished before I died. What troubled me more was Peter’s nonchalant attitude, as if licking a guy’s ass was something everyone did, as if it was normal. I could have left at that moment. I could have stopped this.

“Not here, we’ll have to go up to my room,” I said, not believing these words were coming out of my mouth. “Put some clothes on. No, you have to put clothes on to go up to my room. I’ll go talk to Doctor Randall. Then you’re going to have to apologize to Mother and Doctor Randall for your little scene at brunch.”

I knew this was going to be hard for him. In many ways, Peter was still a little kid who threw temper tantrums, then acted as if nothing ever happened. His world was outside anything any normal person would expect. He’d been basically on his own down in the lower reaches of society doing things to survive that any normal person would never consider doing, ever.

“Now, get up and get dressed. I’ll go out with you, but let me talk to them first.”

“Are you really going to fuck me?” Peter asked.

He just said he wanted me to do that. I knew there had to be some sort of involvement on my part because that was the way Peter worked. Give and take, tit for tat, I do this, you do that, and we’re best buds for the rest of the hour, day, week, or however long we can keep this going before one of us fucks up and we’re no longer buds.

“You said you wanted me to fuck you?”

He suddenly looked scared, very scared. It was like there was a big, ugly ogre standing behind me ready to rip my head off. I turned to look, but there wasn’t anything or anyone there. The door was shut.

“What’s wrong?”

“You can’t fuck me,” Peter whispered. “I just remembered Sam said you and I are not to do any sex with each other. He’ll probably kill me for having you jack me off this morning.”

Tears were in his eyes. He turned his face into Mr. Crowley and started bawling. I’d never seen him like this. I’d never seen a person so crazy they’d act like this. There was a knock at the door.

“Yes, come in,” I said, not knowing what to do. Tim was practically screaming. I was too scared to move. Doctor Randall came in. He didn’t seem to upset about how Peter was acting.

“What set him off?” Doctor Randall asked.

“Something about Sam telling him not to do something,” I said, not wanting to get sex into the conversation.

“Sam has control issues,” Doctor Randall said. “Why don’t you go up to your room and I’ll get Peter to calm down. I’ll send him up when he’s better. Okay?”

“Yeah, sure,” I said.

Peter was starting to shake and shiver like someone having an epileptic fit. I’d never seen him like this before. I’d never seen Peter so out of control.



“Can I come in?” Peter asked at my door.

Unlike the other three crazy boys in our house, I left my door open. It was sort of a signal to Mother, Sally, and Dad, when he was still alive, that it was okay to come in. A closed door meant I didn’t want to be disturbed. It worked for everyone, except Sally, but she was little and was expected to break the rules. She’d actually seen me jacking off one Saturday morning when I slept in. She ran and told Mother, who scolded her for opening my closed door. I was told to take care of myself in the bathroom. There was a lock on that door.

“Feeling better?” I asked. I probably shouldn’t have said that. Some crazies are sensitive about having someone acknowledge their craziness.

“I’m sorry I said what I did,” Peter said sitting down on the bed next to me.

We stared at the opposite wall. I reached behind his back and grabbed a shoulder, pulling him against me. I wanted to show him everything was okay, but he tensed and pulled out of my embrace.

“No! Stop it! Sam said we can’t do this,” Peter whispered, as if Sam was out in the hall listening.

“I’m not doing anything,” I said feeling tears welling up in my eyes. I wanted Peter to like me. I wasn’t looking for him to participate in some sexual orgy. “I just want to be your friend.”

“Then don’t touch me or Sam will hit me, again.”

“Sam hits you?”

“When I’m naughty and don’t do what he says.”

“Peter you’re practically fourteen years old. You’re only two years, three months younger than Sam. You’re not some little kid he can beat up just because he says you can’t do something.”

“You sound like Doctor Tim, but you don’t know Sam.”

“No, I don’t know Sam all that well.”

“But, he sleeps with you. And, you have sex.”

“Once.”

“Only once?”

“Yeah, just once.”

“But he talks like you’re his possession, or something. Hands off Geoff or I’ll punch you in the nuts.”

“He said that?”

“Yeah, or something to that effect.”

“Wow, Sam a bully. I never imagined.”

“He likes you. He won’t hurt you. You’re big, like him. He only picks on me. He tried it once on Johnny, but Johnny punched him in the nose and made it bleed. He doesn’t mess with Johnny anymore.”

“Maybe you need to punch him, too.”

“Do you know why he’s with us?”

“No.”

I didn’t know. I thought it was because he was suicidal, like me, but I didn’t know the reason he tried to kill himself. Then, I didn’t really know why sweet Johnny was with us, either.

“You’ll have to get him to tell you.”

“Why don’t you tell me?”

“And have him try to kill me, too?”

“He’d tried to kill someone?”

“Oh, gawd, he’s going to, he’s going to . . .”

He was getting out of control, again. I pulled him into a hug and held him tight against me as he struggled to get away from me. I started shushing him like I was a nanny or even a motherly type person. He was fighting me to get away, but I held on. I wasn’t going to let him get away. I wanted to know about Sam, but I didn’t want to upset Peter. We had all day and I didn’t want Doctor Randall to have to give him a sedative to calm him down.

I didn’t know what to expect, but I suddenly became aware, as Peter was calming down, his hand was in my crotch, rubbing me. I pushed him away, even though he was softly weeping.

“Why does it have to be sex?” I asked. I smiled, not wanting him to be afraid I was mad.

“That’s what I do. Okay? That’s why I’m here. It might have been my addiction that got me in here, but sex is why I’m still here. I do sex with guys. I like having a guy’s cock in my mouth. I like the taste of come. I like it when a guy shoves his dick up my ass and fucks me. Only, I’m not like that. Geoff, I like girls. I want to grow up, go to college, find some hot babe, and make babies. But, I can’t. Every time I get close to a guy I want to have sex with him. Right now, right this minute, I want to unzip your pants and take out your cock and give you the best blow job you’ve ever had. I want to like you, Geoff. I want you to like me. But, I can’t do it because Sam said I can’t.”

“I like you.”

“Because I said you can fuck me.”

“No, I like you because you’re Peter. I like you because you’re here with me now. I like you.”

And, I did something I didn’t want to do. I put my hand behind his head and pulled his face toward mine. I kissed him. I kissed him hard and pushed my tongue into his mouth. And, I held him against me as I kept kissing him.

“Damn it! Damn it all to hell. Why do I have to have this stupid arm in a cast? Damn it, Peter, I want to hold you. I want to kiss you. I want to.”

He pulled away from me and got up. He walked across the room and sat down at my desk. I lay down on the bed.

Silence enveloped us.

After a while, a couple minutes, an hour, a day, however long it was I became aware of someone beside me. I must have been asleep, or something. I was hard and a hand was lightly rubbing me through my pants. I felt my zipper go down and my cock being pulled out. I didn’t move. I didn’t want this to stop. I couldn’t stop what was going to happen.

The feeling was warm, moist, enveloping my cock. Fingers were kneading my balls. I didn’t have the will to stop what was happening. I felt the tingle in my balls, my groin, my ass throbbed, the tip of my cock burned. I pressed my eyes shut as the orgasm shuddered through my body sending burst after burst of come into Peter’s mouth. Tears filled my eyes and I thought of Tim.

“Make sure my door is locked,” I said. I waited as the body next to me left the bed and returned shortly. “The lube is in my top dresser drawer. I want you in me. I want you in me, right now. Don’t stop to think about what someone might say, what someone might do. Just put that hard cock of yours where I want it and do what you have to do.”

I kept my eyes shut as my pants and underwear were pulled down. I rolled onto my side and bent my right leg, exposing myself. Peter was on his knees straddling my left thigh, pushing himself into me. He was in as far as he could go. Then he pulled out a little and pushed back in. Out, in, out, in, gradually pulling out almost all the way before plunging back in. He leaned over me, placing his hands on the bed on either side of me and kept forcefully thrusting in and quickly pulling out. This was hard ass fucking. This is what I wanted. This is what he needed.

I could hear him breathing hard as his orgasm came upon him. His enraged cock slammed into me repeatedly, hardly pulling out before slamming in again as he filled me with his anger. He was crying. I felt his tears dropping onto my bare skin, but he stayed in until his cock softened.

Peter smiled and I smiled. I turned to lie on my back and he lay down beside me. We slept.



I dreamt of Tim. We were on a bed somewhere, anywhere. He was naked straddling my face and I was licking his ass, driving him wild. Come shot out of his little boy dick splattering my erection with a thick, gooey mess. He got up, bent down to kiss me, and his ass slipped down onto my dick. We continued to kiss deeply as I thrust into him. He raised himself off me and gobs of come spewed from his dick hitting me in the face. A car door slammed shut and then another.

My eyes opened. Peter and I were hard as rocks. I poked him in the ribs.

“Hey, why’d you wake me up? I was having the most pleasant dream. You had your face buried in my ass.”

“Funny, I had the same dream.”

“Now, that’s weird. Talk about crazy. That is definitely crazy.”

“Trudy and Sally are here. We need to get cleaned up and dressed.”

“Aw, shit! I was hoping we could go again.”

“Not today. Now hurry up. Sally’s going to be up here in a minute or so.”

“I’m hurrying. A guy can go only so fast with his friend’s hard-on bobbing in his face.”

“I’ll bob it into your ass if you’re not careful.”

“Promises, promises, all I hear are promises. Here stuff it in here, but you’ll have to lick it first. No lickee, no fuckee, crazy boy.”

“Hurry up, pick up our clothes and get into the bathroom. And, stop wiggling your ass at me. It’s cute enough without having to perform a silly dance.”

As I shut the bathroom door, I heard someone trying to get in my bedroom door. Sally was quicker than I thought. I turned to Peter and he was still hard, his cock bobbing in rhythm with his heart. I wanted him but there was no time. Suddenly, Johnny’s bathroom door swung open.

“Oh, there you are,” Sally said, her eyes quickly widening as two hard-ons stared back at her.

“Get out of here,” I said, but she wasn’t moving as her eyes flicked from Peter’s cock to mine. “Go away!”

“Trudy said,” Sally started, but tears welled up in her eyes as she realized she was in trouble, again. She shut the door, but I could hear her on the other side.

“What do you want?” I asked.

“Trudy said to ask you if you and Peter want to go to the zoo. You won’t tell Mommy I saw you and Peter naked, will you?”

“No, and yes we want to go to the zoo. We’ll be down in a little bit.”

“Okay.”

“She just walks in, doesn’t she,” Peter said, turning to me and grabbing my stiff cock. “Sit down on the toilet.”

He straddled my left leg and shoved his ass in my face.

“Kiss it,” he said. “Go on, you dreamt of it, now do it. I know you want to. Kiss it, damn it!”

Now was the time for me to say no. I could easily set a limit to my sexual activities at this moment. All I had to do was say no. All I had to do was push Peter’s ass out of my face. I didn’t have to do this. He was younger than me, littler. He had no say in what I did. He couldn’t force me to kiss his ass.

I moistened my lips and pressed them against his pucker. My tongue reached out and flattened itself against his tender skin. I could smell his musky odor. My cocked throbbed excitedly as ran my tongue over this place of desire. I’d never been here, this close. I didn’t know exactly what I should do. I did know not to over analyze my actions. Lips and tongue are all I had to use to give Peter pleasurable feelings, so I set them to work.

I must have been doing something right because I felt a familiar rhythm as Peter’s hand attacked his cock. This is what he asked of me and I didn’t want to let him down. I brought my left hand up between his legs and began to knead his balls. He responded with a gurgling groan. Then without thinking what I was doing, my tongue slipped into him pulling against his tight muscle. His response wasn’t totally unexpected.

“Oh gawd, Geoff, oh man, oh jeez, oh gawd, Geoff, um, uh, oh jeez, oh FUCK!”

He tensed up as every muscle in his body focused on spewing out gobs of semen.

I pulled away from him sitting back on the toilet. He stood up, turned, then planted his lips on mine. He was holding my face against his when he straddled me and slowly lowered himself down onto my erection. I winced from the lack of lubrication, but he continued to press downwards. I’d never imagined he could be so tight. He pulled up then pressed down forcing me deeper inside. He pulled up once more then quickly dropped back down and came up almost immediately. His lips were pressed against mine, his tongue probing deep into my mouth. I wanted to hold him, but the cast on my right arm was getting in my way.

Peter was setting the tempo of the fuck. He’d pull up almost to where he was completely off me, then go down quickly forcing me into him. I was so lost in the rhythm of him bouncing up and down on my cock, the orgasm came upon me almost as a surprise. I wanted to force him down on me. I wanted to hold him, but there was nothing I could do to stop him. My orgasm came and went and still Peter worked his ass on me.

“Stop! Peter stop, please, stop,” I mumbled. “Peter, stop, please.”

He settled down on me and stared into my eyes. He looked empty, as if all of this brought back some bad memory locked away in some hidden corner of his mind. There was a trickle of saliva running out of the corner of his mouth. He was hard, again.

“Suck me,” he said as he stood up. He pushed his cock into my mouth and before I was ready he began to thrust deeply into me. In only a moment, he tensed again, but only a dribble came out. He had nothing more to give.



The trip to the zoo was another bust for the day. Doctor Randall got roped into taking us as Trudy wanted to spend time with Mother. Then all Sally wanted to talk about was how Peter’s winkie was different from mine. “Peter’s winkie is cuter than Geoff’s,” she’d say before being shushed by Doctor Randall. Then she’d go at it again, “Geoff’s winkie is ugly.” Peter sat with me in the backseat of Doctor Randall’s powder blue El Dorado almost peeing his pants from laughing so hard as Sally went on and on about how come boy’s winkies got big and stiff when most of the time they were tiny, little soft things.

Then it started raining, really pouring down, when we arrived at the zoo. Nobody said anything, we just watched the rain. Finally, Doctor Randall started up the car and we went home.

Peter and I ended up playing Chutes and Ladders with Sally, but my heart wasn’t in it, neither was my mind. All of my New Years Day traditions were gone with the death of my father. Nothing was the same any more.

“Hey, it’s your turn,” Peter said, slugging me in the arm.

“Huh? Oh, yeah, I was just thinking about how New Years Day isn’t the same for me anymore,” I said, as I rolled the die, moved two spaces and slid down two rows. I did not like this game, either. “I suppose you don’t have that problem considering how you were raised.”

“Oh, my mother wasn’t bad all the time,” Peter said as he rolled the die, moved four spaces, and slid down one row. “Actually, we had a tradition when I was little. Mother always made black-eyed peas, they’re supposed to bring good luck in the coming year. She’d put a ham bone in the pot for flavor and we’d have turnip greens, spinach, or sometimes collard greens, and cornbread, too. When I was seven she got two hundred dollars from this guy who was having a football party at his house. He was having a bunch of his college buddies over to watch the football games and he thought it would be kind of neat to have a boy there with the sandwiches, beer, and chips.”

“Hey, Peter, it’s your turn,” Sally said.

He picked up the die and rolled a two and moved two spaces and slid down another row. Then he said, “I had a ham sandwich and he let me drink a beer, then he took me into his bedroom and I made him happy. I’d never done anything like that. I guess he gave mother the extra hundred because I was a virgin. He left and another guy came in to get happy. There were eight of them and they all had a good time. The next year mother only got a hundred because I was used goods. That’s what the guy called me, used goods. When he brought me home the year I was nine, he gave mother a hundred dollar tip because I knew how to use my mouth and they seemed to like that better because they didn’t have to gag me or tie me to the bed as they had to do in previous years. I just stayed out with them and drank beer and sucked their cocks. Mother stopped making black-eyed peas when I was seven. I stopped having good luck.”

“You sad a bad word,” Sally said. “I’m going to tell Mommy.”

“I’m going to my room,” Peter said, getting to his feet. “I don’t feel well.”

“Hey, we’re not done with the game,” Sally said.

He looked at her, then at me. Tears were in his eyes.

“Go on, the game isn’t important,” I said.

Peter gave me a faint smile, wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, and walked away.

“Geoff, how can we play?”

“Peter has to go lie down for a while,” I said and thought how horrible it must be to have a New Years Day tradition like that. It definitely wasn’t something to look forward to. “Roll the die.”

“It’s not my turn, it’s yours.”

“Oh, okay,” I said, as I rolled a four and moved four spaces. Sally rolled and moved her piece.

“Geoff! It’s your turn. Mommy! Geoff won’t play with me. Mommy!”

I half watched her run into the kitchen where the others were talking, but I wasn’t thinking of playing this silly game. I half crawled, half rolled to the coffee table, and turned and twisted myself to get off the floor. It’s definitely not a good idea to get down on the floor when you have one arm and one leg in casts because it’s damned near impossible to get back up.

It was only a little after two and Sam and Johnny weren’t expected home until nearly seven. I definitely didn’t want to go comfort Peter and get finagled into having sex with him. He was nice, but three times in one morning was a bit much.

The only problem I had was I didn’t have anything to do. With my right arm in a cast, I couldn’t go out and throw the basketball at the backboard, but then I hadn’t done much of that since Kiel died. I didn’t have any hobbies. That was the problem. I was so fucking intelligent I couldn’t do anything except read and learn foreign languages. Some hobby that was, but I was good at it.

I was maybe eleven when I used to go to the library down at the University to read the Chinese books. It was easier for me to get there than downtown Seattle; and, Mother didn’t seem to mind because the trolley went right there from the junction, one bus, one trolley, and hardly any chance for a smart kid to get lost. I could get lost. I was good at that, too.

Anyway, one day I was down at the library reading a really neat book about Chiang Kai-shek and one of the librarians came up and bumped my shoulder. I looked up at her and went back to reading.

“What are you doing here?” She asked. She was new. I hadn’t met her before. She didn’t know my godfather said it was okay for me to come to the library.

“Reading this book. It’s quite good.” I said “quite” a lot when I was eleven. I thought it made me sound English. I’d met an expert in Norwegian poetry at my godfather’s house and he was from England. He was so cool because he didn’t mind talking about Norwegian poetry with a little kid who also spoke Norwegian like a native. I worked really, really hard to lose my American accent.

“Uh, huh, I think you should leave. This isn’t a public library and you can’t make me believe you’re reading that book.”

She grabbed me by the arm and pulled me up. Even back then I didn’t resist when people grabbed me. I followed her down to the lobby. I’d been on the third floor, so it took a while to get there. She didn’t know I’d be back and she’d be embarrassed, but I figured it would be a good lesson for her. We stopped at the front desk.

“I’m going to write a note to your parents and tell them you’re not to come here anymore. If I see you here again, I’ll call the campus police and they’ll arrest you for trespassing. Do you know what trespassing is?”

Obviously, she had little experience with geniuses. I tended to be somewhat of a smartass back then and I said, “Yes, trespass came into usage sometime in the fourteen century. It’s Middle-English, from the Anglo-French word trespasser.” I tried to get the accent, but I hadn’t started on French, yet.

She looked at me like I was weird, or something. That stuff was right out of the dictionary. You can look it up. I remembered shit like that. That’s why I could read and write eight foreign languages back then, and speak three, Norwegian, Hindi, which is a fun language, and Latin, which is kind of hard because there aren’t a lot of people who speak it anymore, except for some people in Switzerland who speak Vulgar Latin, which isn’t the same as I learned, but close.

“Don’t get smart with me little boy.”

“Geoff, what are you doing here?” a familiar voice said behind me. I turned and it was Professor Gunther from the Department of Foreign Languages. He was my best bud at the University. He was helping me with learning how to speak German, like a Swiss so I could go to Switzerland and learn how to speak Vulgar Latin, like a Swiss.

“Professor Gunther, do you know this little boy?”

“Yes, this is Geoff Johnson. Oh, that’s right, you’re new. Geoff kind of has the run of the campus, but he never causes any problems. Do you?”

“No sir.” I didn’t either. I was a good little boy. God, I was pathetic as a little kid. Smart as hell, but so dumb at normal kid things.

“Well, he certainly doesn’t have the run of this library.”

“Uh, Miss, uh, I’m sorry, I’m horrible with names,” Professor Gunther said. He was going in for the kill, but I decided to end this silly game.

“Professor Gunther, it’s all right, I have to stop off at the Provost’s Office on my way home, anyway. I’ll have someone call. Okay?”

As I turned to leave I heard Professor Gunther say to the new librarian, “Provost Williams is the boy’s godfather. Kind of dotes on the boy. But, then, Geoff is about as close to a genius as we’ve got around here. So damned smart we’ll never get him to attend. He’s destined for brighter shores than ours. Oh, and, you’ll probably get a call from someone about Geoff.”

She was nice to me the next time she caught me reading Chinese up on the third floor. Then I found out she was from Ireland and knew Irish Gaelic. That was the fourth language I learned how to speak and my ninth language overall. She married a shoe salesman from Eugene and moved to Oregon a year later. They have a baby boy. We correspond in Irish.



Sam and Johnny came home a few minutes before eight. Both of them were loud and boisterous. Obviously, they’d had a good time at Mark’s house. It certainly made me feel good they were so happy. Almost immediately, Peter grabbed Johnny, went into his bedroom and shut the door.

“What’s that all about?” Sam asked. He was in such a good mood, he looked happy.

“Peter didn’t have a good afternoon,” I said. “How was Johnny today?”

“He behaved himself. Mrs. Patterson had him doing the dishes as soon as she figured out he was a neatness freak. All I had to do was make sure he went to the toilet when he had to.”

“I can’t understand how he can be so focused on cleaning everything except himself.”

“He’s got a lot of problems. You should talk to him about them sometime. What did you and Peter do today?”

“In the morning we mostly fooled around. Doctor Randall took us to the zoo, but Sally was being an ass because all she wanted to talk about was how Peter’s winkie is cuter than mine and it rained. Then we came home and after a little bit Peter went to his room and I came up here. It wasn’t a bad day, but it was a long way from being good.”

“What do you mean you fooled around?” He was suddenly seething. Happy to mad in the blink of an eye. “I told that little prick what I’d do if you two got together. Why does he push me like this?”

“Funny, he said you’d be mad,” I said. “Come here big boy, I’ve missed you.”

But, he didn’t. Sam stood by my door trembling. I got up and limped over to him. He was breathing real hard when I put my one good arm around him and leaned against his back. He was mad, very mad, and I figured now was a good time to get him to talk about why he was here.

“Are you going to kill him?” I asked. “He said you’d kill him if I fucked him. He fucked me, first. He was crying when he did it. He was rough, slamming into me like he was mad. You know, I felt his tears on me when he came. God it hurt at the end. Are you listening to me?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah, I guess, maybe not.”

“Come on over to the bed, we need to talk.”

Doctor Randall said he had control issues. Peter said Sam hit him. I wanted to find out what was going on with a boy who might become my boyfriend, now that Tim was gone. I didn’t believe Sam might hit me. I expected him to have that much sense.

I practically had to pull Sam to get him to come over to the bed. When we sat down he started unbuttoning my shirt. Under normal circumstances, I probably would’ve let him continue, but this was a time to say no and I did it by pushing his hand away. It was awkward trying that with only one hand, but I think he got the message because he stopped and stared at my door.

“You’re not going in there to hit him,” I said pulling his face around to me. He looked at me as if I was his victim. I’d seen that face before. When someone is going to hurt you, really hurt you like stab you, beat you up, or rape you, they have a look that betrays them. Most people try to get away if they know that look. “You’re going to tell me why you’re here. I know it’s not because you tried to kill yourself. You might have scars on your wrists, but that isn’t why you’re in this house.”

“A couple years ago, Mommy and Daddy had to go to some party or something at North Park College,” Sam said. He turned away from me, taking his anger with him. “Daddy is on the Board. They left me with Laura, my little sister. She’s a mistake, too. She was four. She is spoiled. She’s worse than Sally. I told Mommy that I didn’t want to babysit Laura because she never minded me, but Mommy said it was high time I started taking some responsibility for her little dear. That’s what Mommy and Daddy call Laura, their little dear.

“Anyway, it was Laura’s bedtime and I told her to get ready for her bath. She ignored me. I grabbed her, but she wrenched out of my grip and ran from me. She went into the living room and I heard something like glass breaking. She’d knocked over Mommy’s favorite vase. All the yellow roses were in the floor. Laura said she was going to tell Mommy I did it. I slapped her. I don’t know why, but I did. I was mad at her. She wouldn’t do anything I told her. I told Mommy that Laura didn’t mind me.

“Laura went to the bookshelf and picked up Mommy’s porcelain horse. She threw it at me. It hit the coffee table and shattered into a thousand pieces. I went over and slugged Laura in the face. She fell down and I was on top of her hitting her in the face. I didn’t stop hitting her. I was still kneeling over her when Mommy and Daddy came home. Daddy picked me up and threw me against the bookshelf. He’s kind of big and strong. I woke up in a cell at County. I was charged with attempted murder. They brought the psychiatrists in and, well, I’m here, now.

“Mommy and Daddy wanted them to send me to prison for hurting their little dear. I can’t go home, ever. They said they aren’t my parents, anymore. They pay to keep me away. A friend of theirs is my guardian. He’s a lawyer or something. Laura is going to be okay. I broke nearly every bone in her face, but she’ll live. She might not be as pretty, but she’ll live. She’ll always be blind in one eye, but she’ll live. I didn’t kill her. Geoff, I didn’t kill my sister.

“I get mad sometimes and I can’t remember what happens. It’s like my memory turns off. Doctor Tim says I’m not a danger to others if I take my medicine, but I have to learn to not get mad. I have to learn not to threaten people. I have to learn not to hit people.”

He leaned against me, wrapped his arms around me, and started to cry. “Don’t hate me, Geoff. Sometimes I forget.”

“I want you to apologize to Peter.”

“No, I can’t do that.”

“Come on, time to take a little responsibility for Sam Black,” I said, leaning on him to get up. He stood up and then pulled me up. He was hugging me, hard. He was practically squeezing me.

“They’re probably doing something in there,” he said, walking to my door.

“Come on, we’ll go through the bathroom,” I said. Sure enough, the door wasn’t locked. I knocked on Johnny’s door and opened it not waiting for an answer. “Are you two decent?”

They were lying on Johnny’s bed naked with Peter going at Johnny’s dick and Johnny working over Peter’s ass. They kept going at it. Obviously, neither of them heard me. Quite frankly, I was a little reluctant to interrupt because they were putting on a great performance.

“I’m hard, let’s sneak back out,” Sam whispered in my ear.

“Ahem! Hey you two, we need to talk,” I said. I think Peter bit Johnny’s dick from what I saw.

“Hey, you’re not supposed to come in here,” Johnny said, grabbing his hard cock. It was long like Tim’s, but thicker. A good fucking cock. A picture snapped into my mind of that thing slipping into my ass.

“Your door wasn’t locked,” I said. “And, that one isn’t either. Peter you know what Doctor Randall said.”

“Sally’s in bed,” Johnny said.

“She doesn’t stay there. Trust me, I know.”

“She’d walk in on us?” Johnny asked.

“To play Chutes and Ladders with Peter? Hell yes! Sam? You’re on.”

Sam walked over to the bed. I knew he was about to laugh. I knew it, but he did the right thing, anyway.

“Peter, I’m sorry for being such an ass to you. I’m sorry for all the times I hit you and threatened you. Please accept my apology. Oh, and if we ever do it again, you can do me, first. Okay?”

“Sure, Sam, whatever you say,” Peter said. “Now, will you two leave, Johnny was about to come.”

“No, wait a minute,” Johnny said. “Geoff? When you get your casts off, will you sleep with me?”

“You mean you want Sam and Peter to be together?” I asked. That wasn’t the reason, I knew that.

“No, I want to be with you. Peter told me what you two did today and I was just wondering if you’d, well, you know.”

“Sure, I guess it’ll be okay.”

I wasn’t sure. This was another one of those times when saying no was more appropriate than saying yes. Sure, Johnny had a cock I wanted up my ass, but I wasn’t certain I wanted to do anything else with him. What if he wanted me to rim him like Peter wanted. That was still way down on my list of things to do to your partner to get him excited. There was just something about putting my mouth on that part of another boy’s body, especially a boy who sometimes forgot to wipe his ass.

“Come on, Geoff, it’s a school night and my cock is missing you,” Sam said at the bathroom door.

“You two get some sleep, new schools for both of you tomorrow,” I said. “Okay Sam, let’s go put that cock of yours to work. I know just where it’s needed.”