Date: Sun, 11 Jan 2009 09:56:12 +0900 From: Crispy Toast Subject: Leaving Home part 2 Leaving Home (part 2) by Chris (aka Crispy Toast) Firstly thanks heaps for all your emails. I will try to reply to them all soon if I haven't done so already, but I have read all of them and been touched by several. In response to one question I've been asked twice, I don't know how many chapters there'll be although it will probably be around 10 at a guess, maybe a couple more. With real life stories the problem is one's real life doesn't stop, so I'm not quite sure where to end it. As time goes on I might throw in a few random goodies, too. Maybe even at the end of this one. This chapter is a bit more disordered, like a number of smaller pieces joined together - I thought it was the best way to get everything in without confusing the narrative, which resumes about 1/4 way through. Language warning: Occasionally, characters in this story use the word "fuck" as either an expression or an adjective. It reflects casual Australian usage and I apologise if it offends anybody. Explicit warning: Contains descriptions of two guys above the age of consent doing stuff. The age of consent in Western Australia is 16, the same age I was at the time of this story. - Chris ----------------------- Part 2 - Into The Unknown It had now been just over a week of running to stand still, of drinking excessive amounts of Beam, of trying not to think or make sense of anything. It had been eight days since my bizarre encounter with Mirko. The less said about it, the better! At least I didn't have a girlfriend to have to impress any more. What had been a pretty awful bruise about half an inch below my right eye a week ago had faded and didn't sting any more, and I'd even felt able to wander down to the local train station and hang with some of my mates for the first time in days. They didn't suspect anything, as my periods of withdrawal from the real world, usually after a fight, weren't an unusual thing. I was great at getting into fights but needed to work on my win-to-lose ratio - it was pretty abysmal. It was cool to just be myself again, smoking with the boys, calling out smartarse comments to people and relying on our strength in numbers to avoid getting hit. That gets boring after a while though and we got to conversation. "Hey mate, you should show us your Beam trick," said one of them. "I'm out, man." "Damn. That sucks." "Tell me about it, mate." "Hey, couldn't chuck us a ciggie, mate?" I pulled one slowly out of my pack, and handed it to him, while pulling another out for myself. The insulted passengers had moved on and the sun had pretty much set, but it was still light enough to see. This allowed the lighting ritual to take place - an ancient custom consisting of a battle between the intending smoker and the occasional blasts of wind along the open station platform, which by unwritten convention had to be accompanied by frequent hand-flicking, painful exclamations and loud swearing, only some of which was for dramatic effect. Once this was over and it was lit, he drew on it heavily and stared at me. "Mate, when was the last time you fucking ate?" "Dunno." "Gotta fix that. You're coming out with us tonight, mate." I certainly wasn't going to say no. They shouted me a steak and 3 veg (a standard-sized meal) at the local tavern, and I ended up with part of someone else's pizza that they didn't feel like finishing. I was reminded that as a 16 year old although I could drink an entire bottle of Beam in 4 days at home, I couldn't have even a light beer with my meal. Sometimes the law didn't seem to make any sense. Also, I've never figured out how you can live on an empty stomach for days and yet not quite be able to finish a proper meal when you do get one, but that will probably remain one of the mysteries of the universe. ----------------------- Maybe it was my full stomach and my lack of Beam, but that night I dreamed vividly about Mirko, this 19 year old uni student who had inexplicably come into my life. I remembered the feel of his skin against mine, of his gentle aroma, of kissing him, of being cuddled by him so nicely... and just how amazingly good I had felt. I'd been trying not to think about this for days, but dreams have the habit of not respecting such whims. I woke up with a start at about 2:30 am, horny as hell. I didn't CARE any more. I was just going to get off on thinking about Mirko and his amazing body and the confident way he carried himself and just how perfect he was. It was the first time I'd wanked myself off in a week, and every second of it was occupied with intensely sexual thoughts about this amazing boy who had captured my attention and made me feel so comfortable and loved. This is difficult to describe, as while it was intensely sexual and very hot, it was also incredibly non specific. Whatever, it didn't stop me from pulling off all my clothes, getting under my favourite two big blankets and frantically working my shaft. I didn't last very long, after about a minute I blew a massive load over the wall about a metre away. Man, it was fucking awesome. Some unresolved issues, but I didn't care, I was quite happy lying there completely drained of all energy and enjoying the feeling. Thanks, Mirko, even though you're not here to see this and maybe never will be. I turned over and went back to sleep again, satisfied for the time being. ------------------------ "I always kind of knew I was gay." Those words of Mirko's from last week bounced around my head any time I let them during the whole week. HE WAS GAY. There was no denying that, no matter how creative I wanted to be. He was a word I'd regularly used to insult other people's manhood with, to suggest they weren't real men, they couldn't fight, they couldn't get a girlfriend as competently as I could. It was a putdown. Not something that a confident, going-places young guy says about THEMSELVES. I remember how much I tried to figure that one out at the time, it was a huge issue for me. So using the word gay for myself was not even on the cards. I just wasn't gay. I didn't know what the hell I was, but fuck, calling me that would be just way extreme and totally uncalled for. I mean, yeah, I liked to look at guys sometimes, but doesn't everyone? I mean, sure, they don't talk about it, but that's just the unwritten laws of male society. And, I mean, it's like window shopping. You're not looking to buy, so like, what gives? ------------------------ "CHRIS! Oh my God! Haha...um, how ARE you?" Mirko's somewhat surprised voice greeted me at the other end of the phone. "Yeah, hi mate. I hope you're not busy?" "No, I'm at home today." "Oh." A slightly awkward silence followed. "Um, you know, Chris, if you want something, you CAN ask." "Who said I wanted anything?" "You rang me." "Yeah, I rang you. Um, like, I dunno. Um, like, yeah!, um..." "You want me to meet you at the station again?" "I guess, yeah." "OK, just give me a call when you get to the city and I'll get the bus over." "OK mate." I didn't know what to say and the longer I talked the dumber an idea this all sounded, so I just hung up the phone. ------------------------ It had been easier the first time as I'd had Mirko himself to distract me. Travelling alone across town to see him was quite daunting. I didn't bother choosing a train for its aesthetics this time (nor did I bother showing up for Form). I got to the station, got off the train and couldn't see him anywhere. He said he'd be here. I'd covered the length of this station at least four times. The rumbling of the freeway traffic on both sides of the station was starting to get to me. I thought to climb the escalator and head in the general direction of where we'd gone before, if I could remember where we went as I'd just sort of followed him last time. Just as I hit the top of the escalators, there he was. He was at a bus stop reading, and before I went to get his attention, I couldn't help but notice how hot he was in his white Mossimo T-shirt and black jeans. As always, just perfect, not a hair out of line. He was quite engaged in whatever it was, and it was nice to see him a different way, probably more the way he looked normally when he was at home or at uni. "Oh my God, Chris! You scared me!" "Um, like, hi." "Hi." After a pause, Mirko added, "Shall we walk?" He flashed me the most amazing, intoxicating smile as he did so. I struggled a smile back. God, why am I so nervous??? As before, we didn't talk until we got far enough out of the station towards the park and the dense clump of woodland across the main road from the station which had offered us our first opportunity to get to know each other. (Hee-hee.) He asked me how I was and we both commented on how the weather today was a vast improvement on last week. I asked him what he was reading, it was a uni textbook by some unpronouncably-named author which Mirko somehow flawlessly pronounced. Everything that boy did was sexy. ------------------------ Strangely, my nervousness lifted as we approached the woodland, and when we got in and sat down, it was me who made the first move. In one jump, I pinned his body against the tree and started kissing him. Taken aback at first, he settled into this slight shift in the power dynamic fairly quickly and within seconds our tongues were thirstily exploring the corners of each others' mouths. I got a bit daring and started rubbing and stroking his sides underneath his T-shirt. He closed his eyes momentarily and made soft noises although, if he'd been trying to say anything, he certainly was in no position to voice it. My God, I was on a goer, I was charged up. At some point I had to stop and breathe. I pulled back a little. Mirko said, "My God, Chris. That was incredible!!" He was pretty breathless. "Yeah." I was never a man of many words with feelings. "Haha, wow. Man." He seemed to have lost his words, too. Before he could think of any more clear expression of his sentiments, I lunged at him with my whole body, landing across his legs, and slid his t-shirt off his body (he raised his arms to help in this). He responded by sliding off my hoodie and t-shirt. I took to his chest with my tongue, licking it for all I was worth. Fuck, I don't know where this overpowering feeling or drive suddenly came from, but man, I was going to milk it for every last bit. Mirko's hand gently slid over mine and guided it to his jeans just over his crotch. His gentleness didn't disrupt my pace one bit, and I grabbed his crotch and handled it quite enthusiastically. He started sighing unevenly and muttering "Oh, Chris... yeah, Chris... so awesome... oh my god Chris..." Right then I pulled up to his face and found myself utterly lost in his eyes. His eyes had this longing look to them in addition to their usual softness. I didn't look down like last time. In retrospect it was so funny - me playing with his cock through his jeans, his hand supporting my other arm and us just staring at each other at very close range. He was the first to break the look - with another kiss. "Do you mind if I take these off? It would make things more comfortable." Mirko tugged on his jeans to indicate what he meant. I answered by unbuttoning and unzipping them and then slowly pulling them off his frame, with him raising his body to help me get them off. He cheekily tugged on his boxers and smiled at me. Oh my God, he actually wants me to dack him. I hesitated for a second wondering if this was absolutely insane, but finally I decided to just do it. ------------------------ Wow. For the first time ever, I was cradling a naked, hot, male body in my arms. I sat back and tried to take it all in, first at his neck and shoulders which seemed to sit just right, then at his chest which was so amazingly smooth and soft, then the snail trail hinting at what lay below... I couldn't look at that bit. I just, I don't know, it felt weird, like, looking at that on another guy... Um, what's next, the legs... the legs, um, yeah, they had some hair on them but not much and seemed perfectly formed and sculpted. It's funny how you can grab someone's cock through their jeans and it seems hot and sexy, but when you get the actual thing sitting there staring you in the face, you don't want to have anything to do with it and it seems just wrong to look at it, like you're invading someone's privacy. Mirko sensed my hesitation. "Hey, Chris, I've got no problems with you looking at it. Just take your time, it's cool." He smiled softly at me. "You're cool. You're doing really well." I looked at his cock finally. It was a lot smoother and straighter than my own. Unlike me, he was cut - I knew what circumcision was but until now I didn't know what it looked like. "You know it's kind of unfair that you get to look at me and I just get to look at your pants." He grinned cheekily at me and, standing up to join me, gave me a gentle cuddle. The smell of him and the feeling of the hug just totally softened me instantly. I was almost in a daze, smiling cheesily back at him as he smiled at me. I almost didn't feel the hands coming down my back and around my sides until his hands were undoing my buckle and clumsily shaking off the last barrier between him and me. We stood there a few more seconds and then he beckoned me to sit down. We'd left my comfort zone and entered his. As soon as we sat down, he climbed around me so as to sit in front of me, with my chest pressing against his back. I moved back up to be against the tree. I felt so exposed, so... well, naked, which is what I was. He shuffled back into me and I hugged him tightly, nestling my head into the hollow between his neck and left shoulder, and stroked his skin with my fingers. This was absolutely electric. Here I was in a forest snuggling naked with the boy of my dreams. I closed my eyes and just concentrated on the amazing feelings running through me and the feel and smell of his skin. After an uncertain amount of time but probably close to 5 minutes, I opened my eyes again. And wow, he was actually getting off on this! His previously soft cock had gone totally solid. In an evil moment, I decided to toy with him. Reaching my left hand down, I started stroking and sort of massaging his leg. I soon followed with my right hand. As I moved my hands around towards the middle, he fell back into me and gave a loud sigh, whispering my name breathily. But I had no intention of giving him what he wanted just yet, and my hands glided back up his sides. Another trip down, exactly the same way. Each time I did this his soft moans became less longing and more begging. I was enjoying the power rush of knowing his satisfaction was now dependent on me. I started kissing his neck passionately and made him moan louder. This was great. I'd never felt like this before, it fucking rocked. Just when he was least expecting it, I grabbed onto his cock fairly firmly and started to stroke his shaft, turning him side on so I could tongue-kiss with him. It was always to amaze me later that even when he was in the throes of ecstasy he could manage to pick up a gel tube, rub it on his hands, cap it and put it away, but that was exactly what he did at this point. Then he managed to take the initiative back with a warm, soft, gentle grip to my own cock. The feelings running through my own body made me moan and sigh and look longingly at him while continuing to work his. He just smiled at me and mouthed my name. God, this feels soooo gooood. ...Suddenly, he stopped. "What the fuck did you do that for? I was liking that." "You'll like what I'm going to do more," he said with a confident, clear voice. God he was so hot. "Close your eyes. And no peeking!" I sat against the tree with my eyes closed, wondering what on earth he had planned. I thought I could feel my cock warm up but I wasn't sure. All of a sudden, a warm, soft feeling descended on my cock... starting at the top, then moving down fairly quickly. I felt his hands grab my hips firmly. Then... ...oh God. Oh my fucking God. My eyes were rolling back into my head as he started to firmly blow me off with quite some power and speed. Fucking hell. Oh my God. I wanted to ask if I could open my eyes but I knew he couldn't answer and I didn't want him to st... Man... I felt the moaning escaping my lips in time with his solid, yet soft, thrusts. I had never felt like this in my whole life, right now I was getting the best blowjob ever. (Well, my only so far, but let's leave the technicalities aside, I certainly had by then). As I started to get more into it and got used to it, I noticed how soft his lips were. I couldn't believe this was happening, he'd just taken over and moved the goalposts by a mile. And I was loving it. I opened my eyes to see this naked, crouched boy sliding effortlessly along my ridiculously hard cock. Oh my God, he was hot. Oh my G... oh f... "Oh man I'm about to come! FUCK!" I called out. To my amazement he didn't skip a beat, continuing to suck away, and looking up at me intensely as he did so. "Uh.... UH.... Oh my God... Man... Fuck... Oh man.. UH... I'm coming... UHHHHHhhhhhhhhhh..........." That matched only my effort last night for sheer exhaustion. I had no energy left, every last bit drained from me by the amazing events of the previous few minutes. Mirko licked up what remained of my cum before gliding up my body to snuggle me. "You were good, man." For once I had no words. I was exhausted. He chuckled. "I think you liked that, hey?" Before I could answer, he reached a hand around the side of my face and stroked me tenderly. I snuggled in more tightly. I felt so connected to him, and I couldn't even explain why. He looked softly into my eyes and smiled in his way again. I managed a smile back. "You should do that more often, Chris. You're so cute when you smile." Cute?? WTF?! "Haha thanks man." I didn't know what to respond with. He reached into his bag, grabbing a drink flask and taking a swig from it, before pulling out a folding tartan rug. "Dunno about you but I'd love to lie down right now." And with that, he threw down the rug, relinquished our snuggle, gently caressed my body in his arms, and placed me down onto it ever so gently and tenderly. I looked up at him and smiled - for real, this time. He really cared about me! Fuck, what is this? Why do I feel like this? I think he's made me go crazy, I keep smiling at him and wanting him to smile back and be close to me - really, really close. I was enjoying this too much to really question it, though. He reached into his bag again, pulling out a rolled-up thin blanket. He laid down next to me and cuddled into my chest, and pulled the blanket over us. He leaned forward to chuck a rock onto the other end of the blanket to keep it down, then resumed his position. I put my arm over him and stroked his back softly with my fingers. It was the closest I'd ever felt to another human being. I was happy - genuinely happy. And loved. ------------------------ When I opened my eyes, the road some distance away seemed busier, and the wind on my face was sharper. I was glad Mirko had had the foresight to bring a blanket, as I didn't know how long we'd been there. He was still asleep, and he looked like an angel, especially with the little smile he had carried into his dreams. I played with his hair. He opened his eyes and looked up at me, smiling. "Morning, Chris," he said cheekily (and sleepily). I managed a sarcastic "ha, ha". I stroked his face. God, he was just so amazingly soft and nice. "Having fun?" he said in all sincerity. "Yeah." He picked up my hand and then slid up my body so that his face was almost against mine. In a single move, he picked up my hand and placed it right over his butt. My amazement probably showed. "Relax, Chris. I want you to enjoy this, just be cool and take it slow." His tone of voice reassured me and I stroked his butt - cautiously at first, then drawing circles on it before grabbing it and exploring it a little. He responded by climbing onto me, allowing my other hand access. This also allowed us to pash, something I'd come to accept as a standard part of our activities by now. My first climax in his mouth had loosened me up a bit and I was a bit more willing to try things. I noticed the harder I grabbed his butt, the more intensely he kissed me. I was beyond any imagination I'd had previously, but so was almost everything we'd done so far so it wasn't like there was a clear natural limit to draw. We were lying there for a while, when suddenly, a few hurried footsteps came within close earshot. Oh fuck. My clothes are over at the tree next to his bag. While I was trying to figure out a plausible excuse for why I'd be naked with a guy on top of me and a blanket over us, the footsteps moved away. I opened my eyes to see a man with a dog moving quickly away. Fuck, I hope he didn't see us. "Mate," I said, "I think we should probably better go. That wasn't good." "Oh I know! That was scary..." I gave him a hug. "Aww, thanks! You're so nice to me," he said. We put on our clothes quickly and sat down. My knees were more than slightly wobbly - I hadn't had to use them for quite a while. "Oi, what's the time?" I called out. "Um... 3:27." "FUCK! I need to get home." My 10-year-old sister would be back from school soon and would be needing a feed. "I actually brought the car. Do you need a lift somewhere?" "I don't know this area, man." "Well, where do you need to get to?" I told him a suburb near mine. To my surprise, he offered to drive me there. I had to think quickly - I did not for any reason on heaven or earth want him to know where I lived, so I decided on a small group of shops I knew was on the bus route 5 minutes away. That would do. ------------------------ We got in his car. It was one of those old things where you had to lift the handle to lock the doors and the radio still had pushbuttons. Mirko had locked it on one of the ABC stations which was mostly news from around the world, and within 2 minutes we were on a freeway nearby. I was meanwhile fighting urges of an entirely non-sexual kind. "Mind if I have a smoke, mate?" "Go ahead. Just keep the window open, I occasionally drive the kid in this thing." I opened the window and lit up. Man, what a strange day. And here I am sitting next to him - he's back in normal mode now, not the cheeky boy who blew me off but the casual, confident uni student in the beat up uni student car driving me scarily close to home. I wound up the window again. "I hope you know I'm not gay." "Look, that's totally fine, Chris. I try not to, like, judge that sort of stuff, I just try and have fun." "Yeah, me too." I didn't know if I did or not, but it worked. "If you're worried about being caught, just get me during the day and I can drive you to my place. It's empty during the day, even the neighbours aren't home." "Yeah, that might not be a bad idea." "Should just arrange it now so you don't have to phone me. What time can you make it to the station on, say, Friday?" (It was Tuesday today.) "Um, same time-ish? 10:00?" "Maybe a bit earlier if you can." "9:30?" "OK, I'll pick you up then. Sounds good!" There was a slight enthusiasm and brightness about the last two words that threw me a bit. He really WAS gay. I can't believe I'd just committed to more of this. Sometimes I felt like I was being driven forward into the unknown by forces outside my control. I just seemed to be doing things lately that made no sense, that I actually doubted whether I should be doing at all but did them anyway. My head was still spinning from the unexpected blowjob, and I had no idea what lay ahead. "Look, um, when we get to the place just like let me out hey? No fuss or anything." "That's cool, Chris." I felt kind of bad in a way for never using his name the way he used mine so consistently. It just didn't feel right for me to say it though. I had tried. I wasn't feeling talkative and I didn't want him to feel uncomfortable. "Hey, you got any music you can chuck on?" He reached for a CD labelled simply "MASSIVE ATTACK" in the compartment between our seats. "You OK with this?" "Sure." I didn't really care, I just wanted non-silence without having to talk. About half an hour of chilled out electronic music later, we got off the freeway and I guided him to the shops, and got out, heading for the bus stop that would get me home. I hated treating him so casually - I actually wanted to hug him - but I was starting to scare myself with these random desires to do things that were completely out of character and I just wanted the relative safety (?!) of my house right now. ------------------------ Our house is never out of Beam for long. I went to the basement and sure enough there were four new bottles sitting there. I grabbed one of them and went to the kitchen. My sister was sprawled out on the floor watching some inane TV show about mice-like creatures from another planet, probably more because it was on than because she held any genuine interest in its content. Tonight's dinner - for her, fish fingers, chips and peas, and for me, the same plus my own Beam french toast, washed down with a lot of Beam. OK, I liked the stuff, so sue me. I woke up with a hangover from hell at about 11:30pm. I felt awful for not having said anything to Mirko about our day. So I resorted to SMS text message. "Hey M, thanks heaps for today, was awesome. See u Friday." I went back to bed feeling just a little better. More later............... but before I go, a goodie, as promised. Please note you should not make this if you are not over the legal drinking age in your country or state. And most definitely do not feed this to your 10-year-old sister. Note this is not the same as the one on the Jim Beam website which I found years later - I made it once but prefer my own one, developed by me at home after a well intentioned Home Ec teacher taught me how to make plain old french toast in year 8 or 9. CRISPY'S BEAM FRENCH TOAST Ingredients: 3 eggs (can use 2 in an emergency) 3 slices of fresh bread Milk Half a tomato 1 teaspoon of honey (maple syrup also works) 2 tablespoons of Jim Beam Instructions: 1. Break the eggs into a flat bottomed soup bowl 2. Pour enough milk in to exactly "colour in" the clear bits of the egg 3. Chop up the half a tomato into tiny cubes no bigger than your little fingernail 4. Put in the tomato bits, the honey and the Jim Beam 5. Beat the eggs and all the rest thoroughly, it should be really consistent in texture once you're done although don't worry if some tomato chunks are still visible 6. Warm a pan to 180 degrees and oil it. For each of the bread slices: a. Put the bread in the mixture. b. Press it into the mixture with the back of a fork. c. Turn the bread over and do the same again. d. Chuck it in the pan. Each bread slice should do about 2 minutes each side, you can do them all at the same time if you have a big enough pan. 7. Serve and eat. (A very important stage in the instructions.)