Date: Fri, 05 Sep 2003 01:10:03 +0000 From: Guy Jameson Subject: The Sons of JJ Jameson Chapter 14 My grandsons-the Sons of JJ, are writing the next several chapters of this series using their journals or diaries as the basis for what they write JJ required the boys to keep a journal of some sort from the time they began to write. He believes writing is a good educational tool and forces the boys to constantly examine their lives. School districts across the country teach courses in creative writing for much the same reason. These journals were considered the property of the boys and could only be read by someone else with permission of the boy who wrote it. The standard warnings apply. This story belongs to me and as such is copyrighted according to the terms laid down by Nifty. Any similarity with persons living or not is purely coincidental. I hope you enjoy. Feel free to send comments to me at guyjameson@hotmail.com This posting is written by the youngest boy, David THE SONS OF JJ JAMESON CHAPTER FOURTEEN: DAVE'S BIRTHDAY 1986-2000 My name is Dave. Well, actually, it's David, but everyone calls me Dave. Not Davey-I hate being called Davey. It reminds of when I was in deep trouble with my Dad. He'd call me Davey just to remind me that I was still his little boy. But I'm fourteen now and am no longer anyone's LITTLE boy, especially after last night. I've been fourteen for a whole day. Yesterday was my birthday and I received the coolest, best present any fourteen-year-old could get. Some guys my age might not think my present was so cool but it was the one thing I've wanted for as long as I can remember. Anyone who wouldn't think I got a cool present just doesn't know JackShit. But to understand why I wanted this present for so long and I why I think it's so cool, you have to know and understand the story behind it. See, when I was born I was boy number five-I have four older brothers, no sisters just brothers. Maybe that was the reason Mom did what she did or maybe there's another reason. No one has ever told me what happened. I just know it did. Mom left me at the hospital. On the second day after my arrival, Mom just walked out of the hospital and never came back. Some people feel real sorry for me when they hear that story. But I guess it doesn't really bother me. I never knew her. She never even gave me my first meal. Besides I had two parents shortly after that-Dad and Guy. Guy, whose real name is Frank-I don't know for sure how we came to always call him Guy; even Dad does and he knew Frank a long time before he became Guy-was mom's step father. He became our second parent. (My brother Ron says we have two dads or maybe two moms with dicks or possibly one of each.) But I've never felt that I missed out by not having a female type mom. Guy always took up for us when we got into bad trouble with Dad. He didn't interfere but a lot of times he'd help us work out our problem with Dad. Even at that Dad always had the last word in our developing years. It's just that often it seemed his last word pretty well agreed with Guy's first words. Do you get the drift? When I was a baby I slept in a crib in Dad's room. But by the time I was walking and out of diapers, I moved into the basement room with my four brothers. It was a nice room with its own bathroom that we shared. Some of my earliest memories are of seeing my older brothers coming out of the bathroom naked. Actually I saw my brothers naked a lot. Sometimes even Dad or Guy would be in the kitchen fixing breakfast naked except for an apron to protect them from splattering bacon. We never were shy about being naked. I think the first time Dad and I had a father-son chat was when I was about five years old and my older brothers complained that I was always grabbing them by their cocks. I was a little jealous because I had the smallest dick in the house and my brothers' dicks held a lot of fascination for me. Dad explained to me that a boy's dick is his toy and I shouldn't play with them just because they were there. I think Dad intended to spank me to emphasize his point but Guy suggested I be let go with just a warning this time. In fact, I think Guy thought what I did was pretty funny. I didn't grab my brothers anymore after that but that didn't stop me from wanting to. Then the next year, life began to change for me. Ron, who is the third in line and four years older than I am, was moved from the basement dormitory to the attic. The two older brothers made the same move a couple of years before, but that didn't bother me. Ron was sort of my hero. He was just enough older that he knew a lot of stuff I didn't know and I counted on him to help with whatever problems a six year old might have. Granted those problems may not be major ones compared to what a boy in puberty goes through but Ron would talk to me anyway. Ron was also there at night. If I had a bad dream or couldn't sleep I knew Ron would let me get in bed with him. He kept the dreams away and helped me relax so I could sleep. It was nice waking up in the morning cradled in his arm, feeling the warmth from his body. Seeing the boys and men in my family naked as much as I did, I thought by the time I was ten I had become an expert on dicks. I knew that mine would eventually grow just as Rob's and Ron's had. It was a matter of growing older. However, I also had observed that some dicks were going to always be bigger than others are. Guy had the biggest cock, but Joe's, my oldest brother, wasn't much smaller. It was at least as big as Dad's dick. I also saw the difference between Ron's cock and our other brothers, and Dad's. All of us except Ron and Guy had skin that covered the tip of our cock. One day I asked Guy why his and Ron's penis was different. (When discussing anything Guy insisted we use the correct terminology. I knew better than to use a word like dick or cock when penis was the correct word.) Guy explained to me about circumcision. He said that the skin on some boy's penises was removed because of religion. (That sure made me glad we are Episcopalians and only have to have water poured over our heads). I thought it was strange that God would put that skin there and then make some of people cut it off. But as our priest would say, "Who knows the mind of God?" I decided not to let that bother me too much. Guy also explained that some parents have the skin removed because it makes the penis easier to keep clean. That's when he had me show him my "penis" to make sure I was doing what I needed to do keep the cheese from collecting there. I knew what to do. My brothers saw to that, even if Dad hadn't shown me, which of course he had. (I think Guy would have made a good schoolteacher. When one of us asked Guy a question on almost any subject he would give the questioner a complete answer. You might say he had the habit of giving more information than we really wanted.) Then he told me that some parents are afraid their sons will masturbate and that removing the skin will stop them from doing that. "Do you know what masturbation is, Dave?" "You mean jacking off, Guy?" "Yes that's one term for it, Davey. But we must learn to use the correct terminology. Do you know what it is?" (There was that hated name again. I hate it whenever anyone calls me Davey, but I'd never correct Guy about something like that. My brothers and I had too much respect for him and loved him way too much to be critical. If I'd say the wrong thing to Guy, my brothers would pound me for sure.) "Yes, Guy. I know what it is. I've heard my brothers talk about it and lately I've seen Rob start to do it. Sometimes I even jack off with him, but I don't get that milk out of myself the way he does." "Don't worry, Davey. Some day you'll get semen too. But anyway some people think that having their sons circumcised will help keep their sons from masturbating." "Well I know that doesn't work, Guy. I've heard Joe, Jason and Ron talking about jacking off, I mean masturbating, and know Ron does it as much as the others do. So why is Ron circumcised and the rest of us aren't?" "Well," Guy began, "there's a whole other reason and a long story but let's just say your mother decided to have it done. When you get older we may tell you the rest of the story." Man, that must be some story. It was the first time I'd ever asked Guy a question he hadn't answered in great detail. There was silence for a few minutes as I tried to digest what Guy had told me. "Doesn't it hurt?" "Doesn't what hurt, Davey?" (Maybe I should have started liking being called Davey. I like Guy and that was his favorite name for me.) "Getting circumcised-doesn't it hurt?" "I'm sure it does, Davey." A short period of silence. "Didn't Mom love Ron the same as she did the rest of us? Why would she want to hurt him so much and cause him to cry? Sometimes I think Mom was pretty mean." "Don't say that, Davey. Your Mom was sometimes not very happy and she showed her unhappiness in strange ways." I looked a Guy for several minutes before continuing the conversation. Guy may have liked to talk but he also knew that silence is a necessary part of communication. It gave both parties time to think. "Is that why she left when I was born-because she was unhappy?" "Yes, I think so, Davey." There was another long pause. "Guy, was Mom unhappy because of me?" I said with tears starting to flow down my cheeks. "Guy did I make Mom leave? Did I make her unhappy?" "Oh, my little boy. You didn't make anyone unhappy. Your Mom didn't leave because she was unhappy with you. It was something very different." I'm not sure I heard Guy say that just then because I was really crying by that point. It wasn't until after Guy had comforted me that his words would sink in. Guy and I were sitting in the living room during this conversation and my crying attracted Ron's attention. As I said Ron was sort of my protector and he didn't like to see me cry, even if Dad or Guy was comforting me. He came over to us and sat down beside me. He joined Guy in taking me in his arms and holding me. Behind my back, Ron asked Guy what was wrong and Guy told him that I missed my mother. "Geez, Guy. How could he miss someone he never knew-someone who obviously didn't want any of us?" "Quiet Ron. Don't criticize when you don't know the whole story." Guy and Ron held me between me, stroking my hair and back, comforting me until I quit sobbing. Guy asked me if I'd like to help him get stuff ready for dinner. Of course I said I would. I didn't want to be alone right then. Ron also offered to help. The three of us working together to prepare dinner gave me a really a nice feeling.