Date: Thu, 25 Sep 2003 10:43:46 -0700 (PDT) From: Larry Butler Subject: Tough Boy Facade Tough Boy Facade Chapter 1 A Fat One Practicumscribe@yahoo.com I had lived in the same house all my life. I'd walked through my neighborhood to nearby schools my entire life. Although I'd been old enough to drive for almost two years, I didn't drive. My life was fairly ordinary because I wanted to get through school with the least amount of difficulty before I dealt with who I was and how to get what I wanted. Late in my senior year, what I wanted got mixed up with a boy that could only cause me trouble. I'd known of Irving for a long time. We weren't friends or anything like that. We didn't even know each other except like you know any kid that goes to your school but you have little or no contact with. I'd heard the rumors and had no reason not to believe them. Irving was a "hood" by nature, always in trouble in school. We were in fifth grade together several schools and more than a half dozen years earlier. He was a poor student who stayed to himself back then. He was the last one in his seat and the first out the door. I was a "good" kid and a "good" student who never did anything wrong. Guys like Irving scared me a little and I was smart enough to avoid potential bullies. I suppose with Irving my fear was based on the unknown. It's just one of those feelings you get about someone and you make a point to avoid him and I avoided Irving, well, that was true until April of my senior year, when thoughts of graduation and a summer of beaches and boys were on my mind and my guard was down and instead of going the other way, I found myself trapped in close proximity to him. We traveled in different circles, or so I believed, and I never thought I was missing anything until the day we came together by accident or some cruel act of fate. I was somewhat surprised to find that the locker I had taken in gym class was right next to Irving's. It was a relatively normal early spring day. The locker room was colder than usual and few guys showered. I was sitting on the bench, putting on my shoes with only a couple of guys left in the entire locker room. I could hear the showers running full blast, lockers banged loudly and in the distance were the fleeting sounds of boy's voices as they retreated back to the warmth of the main school building. When I noticed Irving walked toward me with his towel draped over his shoulder, I cursed my bad luck, hoping to avoid any interaction. I busied myself with ignoring his approach. Sure enough, he turned and popped his locker door open, knocking my locker door shut in the bargain. I was sure he did it on purpose. He stood back from the locker to finish drying his hair. I hurried to tie my shoe and ended up with a knot in my eagernee to make a quick getaway. When I sat back up, exasperated from being unable to loosen the not, Irving's hard dick was standing straight out of his thick black pubic hair as he vigorously rubbed his head with the towel. His dick did a bob and weave in my face, giving me an eye full of that fat boy. It looked unyieldingly hard and I wondered why he didn't hide his erect penis as most boys would be frantic to do. My effort to ignore this affront to my manhood failed but a more important consideration arose from my need not to be perceived as vulnerable to stronger boys. He was uncut, which had always intrigued me, but most I'd seen soft soft and from a distance in the showers with the lucky boys who had such dicks. When I was twelve and just out of elementary school the summer I'd hung with the O'Reilly boys. We were all anxious to explore the ways of the world, especially anything that might allow us to expose our dicks. The three of the five brothers I spent time with were uncut boys and I'd made a point of seeing them hard and they'd seen mine, but none of those equaled Irving's colorful beauty. In his excitement the skin had come half way off the head before tightening down onto the tender flesh, refusing to give up any more of its prize. The tip now exposed in front of the constricting skin had turned a radical lusty red. My instincts told me to run for my life but the sight of his stiff dick had me frozen in place. It was the reason why I had stopped seeing the O'Reillys. They kept getting bolder with the curiosity that had me swept up in the middle of their attempts at sexual self-discovery. It wasn't that I didn't want to do everything they wanted to do, and more, because I did. It was how much I liked it, living for the next time, while needing to pretend not to enjoy the play any more than they did. For them it was fun and games, while from the first week they moved in across the street and invited me up into their bedrooms to play, it became serious business for me. The O'Reillys weren't a threat but the outsiders they brought in were. At times these were guys I knew, and then worried about once I saw what they did, knowing they'd seen me. It scared me enough that by the end of that summer of sex, I gave up the most exciting friends I'd ever made. Sitting there staring at another boy's stiff dick, made me sure it had been a smart decision. I was almost out of high school and I hadn't been labeled as a boy that was far too fond of other boys. For survival's sake that was the safe was to go. Now, staring at Irving's penis erectus, I wanted more than anything to reach out and feel it, kiss it, rub it on my face and lips, reaching between his legs to feel the smooth distinctively outlined balls that swung below his pendulum as he roughly dried his hair. The O'Reillys still lived across the street and all dated girls. Brenda still came and went daily, and I'd seen most of the guys take an interest in what she had, although my contact with her was limited and usually only as a sidelight to what I was really there after. The other boys got way more excited about her than I did, and that marked the difference. Most of the O'Reilly's did everything I did and more, but they also were interested in Brenda and other girls that came up from time to time to keep our games in the mainstream. The boys that came over that summer always said they came for the girls, but when the girls didn't show boys would do, and the O'Reillys would do it all. These horny boys would complain about girls playing hard to get all the while lying on their backs, watching their dicks disappear, cumming and then coming back for more. Boys obviously didn't play hard to get, just hard and hard up, and it made me nervous because they talked about girls even when they were having sex with guys. I failed to talk about girls because when I went up there I went up there for boys and the last thing on my mind was fooling around with a girl. That difference had separated me from them, because if I noticed them and their interest in girls did they notice me and my lack of interest in girls? My daydream about my own forbidden past held me there unaware for too long. I did not notice when he stopped with the towel but I should have figured he only had so much hair to dry. When the spell was broken, he no longer moved and stood staring down at me staring at his crotch. I looked up at his deep blue eyes, thinking he was contemplating whether or not to kick my ass. "I hate that," he said, convincing me of his sincerity and I pulled my eyes away. I was petrified and didn't know how to respond. I was staring at his dick and I knew better but couldn't stop myself. And he hated that as I supposed most guys claimed to hate it when other guys checked them out. I rushed to get out of there, but as soon as he turned to reach into his locker, I was drawn back to it and I stared at the way it moved. He stopped when he noticed me examining it once again, turning toward me until the tip of his dick was an inch from my lips. My mouth went dry and my heart pounded out the "Anvil Chorus" in my chest as I remember Irving and I were from different worlds. "I broke up with my girlfriend. I hate beating off. I'll do almost anything to avoid it. I've almost never had to jerk off come to think of it. So it gets like this until I find a way to relieve the tension." His words were concise. He sounded fairly secure with his facts. He stood fast and let me look all I wanted without moving his overheated gland away from my partially open mouth that was breathing hot air over the head. "Yeah, I know what you mean," I said, not knowing anything except that it was hot and really hard to breath, not to mention the difficulty I was having getting my brain to function. "It just pulls this shit, usually at the worst fucking time and it won't go soft until I do something with it." "Yeah," I said, sheepishly looking up at his face before taking one more glance at it. "I knew, you'd understand, Cam," he said, squeezing it so that the head turned even darker but never pointing it in any direction but mine. Of course he'd seen my interest and made it clear it wouldn't go down until he did something, or until someone did something for him. He didn't like jerking off because he never had to. With a dick like that it wasn't hard to believe either. Irving seemed pretty sure of himself and didn't seem at all threatened by me. He remembered my name. I hadn't used Cam since elementary school. I was Cameron now. How would he know that? Why wasn't he pissed off? I lost my ability to reason and just moved things around in my locker while I tried to remember what I was doing there. The next thing I knew he was dressed and banging his locker door shut, but instead of turning to leave, he turned toward me, only this time all I could see was the bulge in his pants where his hard dick had come to rest. Once again he caught my eyes as they went right to the place in his pants where I found it. I swallowed hard, forcing my eyes up into his, wondering when his anger would flair. "I got to go to the library tonight and get sucked off," he said directly to me. His fingers toyed with it through the front of his pants and I resisted the urge to watch him playing with himself for at least two or three seconds. He knew what was on my mind and he was playing it out. "Yeah," I said, trying to remember if I was coming to or leaving gym class. "You been there too, huh? Cool. From what I heard I thought you might know about it. I go up about an hour before they lock up. Nothing like a good blowjob before you sack-out. I mean when you don't have a girl to do it for you." "I go all the time," I said, which wasn't a lie. "You're hard now," he said in an soft and intimate voice. "Major erectus," I said. "Always in the afternoon, huh? I could tell by the look in your eyes." "Yeah. The afternoon," I said, trying to swallow with my mouth being too dry to accomplish the feat. "I don't feel so bad. I figured you were cool with it. What time do you go up?" "Ah... me? After school. Yeah, just go on over on my way home." "Too risky for me. I mean, I can get loud when I cum. Too many people hanging around after school. Before closing there's no one around to catch you at it. Just guys like us." "Never been up there at night," I said, thinking about "guys like us" and what he might let me do to him if we were up there instead of in the locker room at school. "You going up today?" He asked, shifting the one book he carried from one hand to the other. "Probably," I said. "I've got chores after school. I might go later this time." "Cool," he said, as he walked away from me. "Nice seeing you Cam." "Yeah, nice seeing you," I said, thinking of his stiff dick and all the years I went out of my way to avoid him. "Guys like us," I said out loud and felt happy about it. "That's awesome." Then I remembered my objections to him. He'd got into a fight in ninth grade and put a guy in the hospital. He'd been arrested and put on probation. He'd been in fights as far back as I knew who he was. He'd been arrested for something to do with a stolen car in tenth grade and he got suspended from school for run-ins he had with different teachers. Irving and I had nothing in common, well, almost nothing. I felt good about him saying, "guys like us." Yet I'd never thought about Irving at all before this. I hadn't said I did anything but he gave me a pretty clear picture of what he wanted out of his trips to the library and he assumed that's what I went there for. I didn't do anything, but I often fantasizing about it. I was afraid to do anything. A few more months and I'd be clear of high school and then I'd check out the library and maybe reconsider my feelings about Irving. I supposed he knew me the same way I knew him. We'd managed to go through all of elementary school, all of junior high school, and now we were almost done with high school and this was the first time we had anything resembling a conversation. He didn't seem so bad. I kept thinking about his dick all through sixth period and I wondered how to make sure I got my locker next to his in gym for the rest of the school year, since I was always early for class and he was always late. Even if I only saw it soft, it would be worth the effort. It was hard to believe I hadn't done anything with a guy since I was twelve. I hadn't done much about girls since, but they seemed to manage pretty well without me. I didn't see where there was any desperate need for me to get with one, even though most of the guys were preoccupied with the idea. I suppose, if the O'Reillys hadn't moved in across the street from me, I'd still be in the dark about sex. There were five brother's and two sisters. The brothers I hung around with were eleven, twelve, and thirteen. The two older boys were fifteen and seventeen, but they didn't hang with us. The sisters were fourteen and sixteen. Andy was always the leader in that zone. It seemed to be his main interest in life. From time to time a strange boy would be there and joined in on the play, and at times I knew the boy, but mostly it was me and the three youngest brothers and at times Brenda the summer before I went into seventh grade. Once I realized I was becoming more and more like Andy, I stopped going over. We were still friends but nothing ever happened outside of their house. The O'Reillys were still across the street. Harry had gone into the military and was rarely home. I had a class with Gary and we ate lunch together from time to time but never mentioned our sexy past. Andy was always with one girl or another and usually said hello when we passed in the hall but our friendship had waned once we stopped fooling around together. I'd been content to keep my distance from sexual situations until that day when Irving stood beside me with the biggest hardon I'd seen since the day Bobby O'Reilly, the fifteen year old brother, let us jerk him off in the corner bedroom upstairs in the O'Reilly house. It wasn't exactly a sexual situation if you discount the fact that I wanted to lick his dick like I'd lick a double dip ice cream cone on a hot summer's day. I pictured us all circling his bed, amazed at the stiffness in his dick and how it stood straight up out of his unruly pubes for us as he rested with his hands behind his head and his undershorts down to his knees. We had taken turns with Andy starting things off by telling us Bobby was game for some fun and wanted to play and he was way more mature than any of us. We leaned on the bed, watching one another pull on his dick. The end had come on our second turn around and in a flurry and a flood, after which he stood up in the bed with cum running down his stomach and onto his right thigh, pulled up his under shorts before stepping off the bed saying, "Thanks! I needed that." My mind was now filled with sexual sights and sounds and Irving, a boy I'd avoided for years. Not only that, I'd spent sixth period going over every single sexual incident I could remember, measuring it against those few minutes I'd spent with Irving and his hard dick in the locker room. Of course I wasn't about to go to the library that night. That would be an admission that I was hopelessly helpless when some guy stood next to me with a stiff dick. My life was about self-control in this very arena, since my lost summer of love with the O'Reilly boys anyway. As soon as I finished dinner I took out the trash and zipped up my jacked as I headed out toward the library. It was a cool evening but not cold. I wasn't sure what I was going to do, maybe check it out so I knew what went on there. I pulled a book on human sexuality off the shelf and went about reading a study by an A. Kensey that was done at an Indiana University in 1948. I arrived there shortly after six and I positioned myself to watch the isle that led from the main entrance up to the second floor on the way back to the men's room. There were all of five or six people up there and I detected nothing out of the ordinary and no foot traffic at all after I arrived. It was while I was yawning that I saw Irving coming up the center isle with his leather jacket pulled up around his neck and his engineer's boots making a distinct sound against the tile floor as he walked. He turned down the row of books that would lead him back toward the bathrooms. He was wearing a faded pair of 501s and a white T-shirt under the leather jacket. He didn't look around or make eye contact with anyone. He'd never looked in my direction. I watched where he disappeared and waited to see if anyone followed him but no one else went in that direction. Maybe someone was back there waiting for him. I wondered how long he might wait if no one was back there to blow him. It was only an hour until closing time. He'd be disappointed if nothing happened. Well, maybe I should go check it out, just in case, I thought, leaving the book on the table as I headed for the men's room. It was quiet when I opened the door. I was quiet so that I wouldn't interrupt anything I suspected might be going on. There didn't seem to be anyone there but I knew Irving was in there. He had not come out and there was only one door. A simple glance under the stalls showed me the legs of the faded jeans and the engineer's boots. He was sitting patiently in the middle of three stalls. I went to the last stall and stepped in, hesitating to see if he stirred. He didn't, so I unfastened my pants to complete the illusion that I was there to use the facilities. I sat silently studying the stall. When I got to the hole next to my shoulder, I tensed, checking to see if he could see me, but he couldn't. The hole was situated too low and my body now blocked the view. "Quiet in here," Irving said in a voice I recognized from that day. "Yeah," I said, raising my voice a few octaves to throw him off the scent. "Had a guy offer to give me a blowjob the last time I was up here. Weird huh?" Irving said in a nervous version of the voice I knew. "Weird!" I said, trying to use the same range as before. "Not if you really need one and I need one bad," he said. "My dicks been hard all day." "Me too," I admitted honestly. "You want to help me out?" There it was. An interesting invitation that had my mind in a whirl. First staring at him in the locker room and now getting another chance to see it up close with no restrictions and he'd never know it was me. My dick pulsed and stood straight up as I considered the hole and saw him moving just beyond the opening. "Sure," I said, and immediately a dick appeared at the opening that someone had drilled so that it connected the person in one stall to the person in the other stall if you used the hole. He let the head rest on the hole and then slid it through until some of his black pubes stood in the opening. I recognized the rosy glow and how the skin hugged tight in the middle of the dick head. The white film and wet tip were self-explanatory. It twitched as I studied it and the tip became moist from the excitement of the boy in the next stall. There was no way I could resist the temptation of tasting the hot cock that smelled tantalizing. I put my hand just behind the head and pushed the skin clear of the head. It was red and well formed. Plump but not fat. Irving made a sound like he was straining to do something that took a little muscle. I squeezed and he made the same sound again, only louder and for a longer duration. "It won't take much," he said through uneasy air, and his fingers grasped the top of the booth as he thrust himself tightly against the stall wall. His dick now curved up toward my mouth with a slight angle. Just sitting in place it was within easy reach. I leaned so I could take in the entire head in the first move on him. I hesitated for a few more seconds, listening to the eager heavy breathing it was difficult for him to disguise. "Oh!" He said as my lips made contact before slipping over the tender head and closing on the top of his shaft. The straining sound was back but it became more of a moan as his fingers tightened the grip on the top of the stall. "Oh man, that's so sweet. Take it slow or I'll lose it." It was warmer than warm, smoother than smooth, and harder than hard. The taste had my own dick starting to pulse in a way that told me I was but a little ways away from a violent discharge. He cleared his throat and the wall shuttered as he tried to get more cock through the hole, but there simply wasn't any more. I let my tongue go to work on him and the smell suddenly erupted into my nostrils. I recognized it from earlier in the day when his crotch was within inches of my face, only now it was a thousand times more potent. The air had become suddenly thin and my entire body started to shake. I couldn't believe what I was doing and who I was doing it too. What was wrong with me. I hadn't done anything like this since I got old enough to appreciate it. I contemplated spitting his dick out and rushing out of the bathroom before he could see who it was blowing him. I wasn't sure of what I was doing or why I was doing it. "Oh, man, that's excellent. Wow!" The air gushed as he strained with each breath being delayed as though he stopped breathing for ten or fifteen seconds and then gasped. "Phew! Better let up a minute and make it last a little longer." It was nice and now he was shaking too. I could feel the vibration through his dick and the wall between us was starting to shiver. His knuckles had turned red and were turning white because of the hold he had on the top of the stall. I'd never felt so many feelings all at the same time and it was damn scary. I backed off his dick head and watched liquid from the tip run down into the bunched skin that firmly held the head where it joined the shaft. Another drop appeared and followed the path of the first and my own cock shivered with involuntary twitches. My heart pounded and my breathing was shallow and labored, while my eyes took in the colors and contours of his overheated dick. He surprised me when he asked, "You okay?" "Fine," I said, trying not to let him know the kind of shape I was in over his dick. I had forgot to disguise my voice. It was so frazzled, certainly he couldn't have attached me to it. We'd only said a few words to each other that afternoon. Why would he want to know if I was all right? I thought this was about him getting a blowjob so he could go home and "sack out." Irving wasn't what I expected. The air was electric as I let his dick rub and leak onto my cheek while putting my nost up to the hole. I breathed deep and felt his dick throbbing on my skin. I wanted to finish him off and start over again. I wanted him to like what I did. I wanted to like me. I didn't know how my feelings about Irving could have changed, but they had. I wanted to get to know him. I wanted to give him anything he wanted as often as possible.