Date: Thu, 23 Jan 2003 14:41:17 -0800 From: Elliott Payne Subject: River Oaks Summer Part 4 So I became a cocksucker. Okay. I can not deny it. But lets get it straight. There was no kissy-wissy. There was no huggy-wuggy. There was no lovey-dovey. We were of one mind on this, Chip and me, although it was never discussed. That was what it was and that was the way it should be. What was it then? It's something I've considered often over these twenty years and more. Let me explain it this way: My youngest brother, Barron, was four years my elder. My eldest brother, nine. With two others in between. >From my point of view my brothers formed a team and shared a bond that I was never invited to join. One day I was at the fort. Chip was there as well, but not by arrangement. One of the older kids from the next neighborhood was giving me some shit. He could have beat the crap out of me easily. I wouldn't back down though, and the guy was getting ready to pound me. Chip watched on for awhile. I didn't ask anybody for help. When it was going to come to blows, Chip steps in, shoves the guy hard, knocking him down, and makes a simple calm statement like, "Duncan's cool. Leve'm alone." With this prompting, several other guys chimed in on my behalf. The thing dissolved and Chip went back to his other friends, chatting and laughing, drinking beer. I didn't show it to anyone, but my heart swelled. I almost cried. Looking back on it I don't remember any of my brothers ever sticking up for me like that. In fact what I remember is them beating me up and torturing me. So, what was it with Chip? The only word I can use is fraternal. But I don't think there are words for what I'm trying to describe. A feeling I never shared with any of my own brothers, but wished I had, a pure feeling of masculine connection, an intimacy without sentimentality, more perceptible in its absence than in its presence. I did have real feelings for Chip, but I didn't want to sleep in the bed with him, kiss him good morning, and pick curtains together. Yet there was a delicate emotion, on my part. As for what he felt, well you'd have to ask him. My girlfriend? Yes she was real. Her name? She had a beautiful name, and I can not bring myself to change it for this story. She will remain simply "my girlfriend." Yes we did stay together for most of the summer. I had pocket money so we went to the movies together, to the mall and fast food restaurants, and to each others homes to watch TV and such. I even brought her to the fort once or twice and we got high together on occasion. I wasn't at all worn out sexually in those days. Always had plenty of adolescent energy to share nakedly with her. In fact hanging out with Chip enabled me to overcome my shyness somewhat, and I learned quite a bit from him, enough to show my girlfriend how to suck dick, for instance, although she wasn't very good at it really. No, there was plenty of hanky-panky to go around. We did get together and fool around often. Even evenings on which I'd spent the afternoon with Chip. You should be aware that a few years later I would achieve 17 orgasms in a 24 hour period, without the help of drugs. So shooting off once or twice with Chip and then hooking up with my girlfriend, and shooting off once or twice again, well, that was no big deal. And I loved her pussy. The smell of it. The taste of it. The look of it. I won't go into detail here. I won't tell you how I liked to kiss it and lick it and gently spread the lips apart and learn to kiss and tickle and rub in just the right areas. No I won't bore you with these details. But this I must confess, even after all this and more, I still could not break through the psychological barrier of intercourse. We were both virgins still, sadly, willing but uninformed. No, I would not lose my virginity for another year, to an older more assertive girl. But this summer, this girlfriend, her neediness, her whining, her very femininity. Well, it got old. What can I tell you. After a time I just stopped calling, and didn't really return her calls, and that was that. By the time school would start again, or soon thereafter, she had a new boyfriend. I've mentioned that Chip's brother, Daniel, was an eagle scout. Their father was scout master, and Daniel became one of the junior scout masters. I had dropped out of boy scouts a year or two prior, but Chip was still involved. One afternoon near the end of summer break I was doing a yard across from Chip's. Both of his parents worked. His dad a surgeon, his mom a real estate agent. His brother lived in an apartment near Rice University. I wasn't sure if Chip was home. Down the street comes this older looking dork, dressed in full scout regalia, including hat, neckerchief, and badges. I recognized him as one of Daniel's buddies, another junior scout leader. He crosses their lawn, opens the gate, and lets himself into their back yard, like he's been there before. Curiosity got the better of me of course. I counted off five minutes exactly on my watch, marched across the street, and quietly let myself into Chip's backyard. I moved silently along the brick exterior, and got down on my stomach near a small ground-level grated window looking into the basement. The window was dusty, and the view obstructed, but I could see plainly enough what was happening. It took my mind quite a while to synthesize what my eyes were seeing. Yes, the dorky scout guy was laying on his back, on the oval basement rug, his head propped up on a cushion from the couch, his hands behind his head. Yes, his pants were off. And, yes, Chip was completely naked, straddling the guy's mid-section, facing him, his own hard dick poking out right at the guy's face. Now, the guy's dick couldn't possibly be up Chip's butt, right? This is what I'm thinking ... Come on you moron, you're looking right at them. Of course it's up his butt, what else do you think they're doing? They're fucking. No way. I had never seen this. But this is exactly what I saw. Chip crouched over the scout's dick, grinding back and forth slowly, Chip's big dick bouncing around between them, and they seemed to be staring into each other's faces. Damn. This was too freaky. The guy still had on his scout shirt and neckerchief. I could hear Credence Clearwater faintly, and low grunting sounds. I watched for awhile as Chip slowly gyrated on the guy's dick, gently pumping up and down, in no particular hurry, his own dick twitching between them. I think my eyes had a direct link to my dick in those days, bypassing my brain altogether, because my own dick started getting hard watching this. In my mind, though, I did some quick calculations. Let's see, I just turned 15. Chip was about 17. Chip's brother, I remembered from scouts was about four years older than Chip, and this guy down here, he was the brother's age... Like about 21 years old ... at least ... and 21 might as well have been like 50 in those days. This guy was a grown-up. Well, it was simple. This was some perved-out shit. Butt fucking for one. But being a bottom boy, that was something else altogether. Riding up and down on top of a 21 year old junior scout master, gazing into his eyes moaning. No fucking way. That was fucking off-the-charts, perved-out, faggot-stuff. A sudden apprehension passed over me. I was sweating, but my flesh felt cool. My stomach churned. I thought I might vomit. This was not innocent. It was connected to something larger, scarier. I felt used. My dick went down. What the fuck had I gotten myself into? I got up and ran. I didn't care if they heard the gate. Across the street. Got the trimmer, whacked the bushes for about 30 seconds, tossed my gear in the wagon, and ran, ran down the street pushing the mower, and trailing the wagon, rattling along with my lawn accessories. Stuck the shit in my garage. Ran in the house. Bolted the door. Went upstairs. Took a hot shower. Got out. Pulled the shades. Beat off twice thinking about it. Well I did beat off to it, but in my mind, my rational mind, that was it, the jig was up. The world was a scary place all of a sudden, even here in River Oaks. And truth was, I was still a kid. I had never fantasized about butt fucking, not yet at least. Had never seen it, only heard about it vaguely. Now I began to wonder how Chip derived his sexual confidence. How experienced was he actually, and how did I figure into his plans? I didn't need to find out. I wasn't going any further. I could stay at home and beat off. I had had plenty of excitement that summer. So that was it, loyal reader, that was the conclusion of my summer. My own close friends had returned from camp by now, and it was easy to avoid Chip. I didn't call him, and he stopped calling after two tries. Later I would see him in the halls at school of course. He was involved with athletics. He would make eye contact and give me a short knowing nod in passing, nothing more. He graduated and went away to college in Alabama. I moved not long after, and I have never seen him again. Copyright 2003 Elliott Payne