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Back in the 1950s

Part 4

So Mark was my boy-girlfriend, Jeffy was my most reliable cocksucker, Lenny was an occasional fling, and Linda was getting to be a pain in my ass, except I was stuck with her. Wasn't she ever going to grow real tits? And wasn't she ever going to try some real sex, instead of just teasing me until I came in my underpants? The problem was I just had to be "going steady" to stay part of the popular crowd. If I gave up on Linda, I'd have been tossed out with Fat Phyllis and Retard Robert and Teeny Tiny Tim.

(Actually, I thought Teeny Tiny Tim was kind of cute, but he was way too small for our grade. I thought about asking if he wanted to join the Troop, but his family was crazy religious, and he probably would have told on the rest of us. We didn't need that.)

I could have had somebody every afternoon if it weren't for fucking sports teams, which had a shitload of practices, even though our school hardly ever won. Me, I was just in the science club, which wasn't very cool, but only met on Mondays.

The worst of it was that Anthony, the really sexy Italian kid, was such a hotshot soccer player I couldn't even figure out why he'd ever joined the Scouts. He had practice every day, and he hardly ever got to come on our overnighters because of games. Okay, I got to play with his skin covered wiener some Thursday nights down in the old super's apartment, but I really wanted to get him back to my house for a couple of hours when my parents were working.

The day finally arrived. Both the coach and the assistant coach of the seventh grade soccer team were out sick on the same day, and his practice was cancelled. I heard the announcement on the loudspeaker, and made sure I was at the exit his class used when the school day was over, although I had to run halfway around the building in under a minute -- and I was no athlete.

"Hey, Anthony," I called out to him. "I heard your practice was cancelled."

"Yeah," he replied, "and nobody's home now and I don't got a key with me."

"Well, you can come over to my place," I said, trying to suppress a grin.

I guess he noticed, because he stood on tiptoe and whispered in my ear, "I think probably you want to fool around."

"Well, maybe," I whispered back, not that anybody was going to hear us over all the noise of a whole bunch of kids leaving school for the day. "If you feel like it."

"You got any Bosco?" he asked.

Bosco was everybody's favorite chocolate syrup back then.

"Sure," I told him. "We got milk too."

We got back to my house, and I mixed him an extra dark chocolate milk, and gave him a bendy straw to drink it through. He liked that.

"I'll do anything," he said, as he sucked down to the darkest, sweetest part at the bottom of the glass. "I done it all with Vinny."

"Who's Vinny?" I asked.

Vinny, it turned out, was his next older brother, six or seven years older. Anthony was a surprise to his parents, who thought they wouldn't be having more kids. Vinny, who used to be the youngest, wasn't the youngest any more. "He never really liked me," Anthony told me, "except for making me get him off. He went in the Marines last summer, and I hope there's a war so he can get killed."

He looked like he might cry. Then he made that rattle noise you make when you get to the bottom of your chocolate milk. "You want more?" I asked him. He shook his head. I put his glass in the sink, then took his hand and brought him into the living room to the big chair where my father slept through ball games, and pulled him down into my lap. I mean, I wanted him awfully bad, but he was getting all teary, and I didn't want to make it worse.

He told me about his brother Vinny. "He had to watch me when Mama and Papa went out. And no matter how good I tried to be, he always got some reason to pull down my pants and spank me."

"Didn't you tell?" I asked.

"He said if I told, Papa would spank me too. And after a while, I just thought Mama and Papa wouldn't believe me. Like when he made me take off my clothes and lay in the bathtub so he could pee on me with his big fat dick. And pee in my mouth, and then make me suck on it to get the rest of the pee out. And then he'd shoot his stuff and I had to swallow it all."

I think I was the first one he ever told, because he was crying pretty hard by then. I didn't know what to say, so I just hugged him against me and kind of rubbed his head with my hand, and wondered why he'd picked me.

"And he shoved that big fat dick up my ass, and it hurt so much. And when he got done, I had to stick my tongue in his hairy ass and lick his hole, so I would remember what a little shit eating piece of crap I was."

By the time he finished telling me all that, I wasn't even half hard anymore. All I could do was hug him, and think about what the hell I could do, but I was just thirteen years old, and I knew I couldn't do anything. And I sure as hell wasn't going to put my dick in his ass. I just hugged him harder, then reached my face in so I could kiss him. I don't know if I kissed his cheek or his eye or his nose or what, but he grabbed hold of me and hugged me back very hard, and cried harder and harder.

I kissed him some more. I wanted to make it better for him, but I didn't know how, so I just kept kissing him, and I was crying too.

..........

We just stayed there, in my father's falling-asleep-watching-the-ball-game chair, for what felt like a long time. It really wasn't that long, though, because the clock on top of the TV said it was only a little after four. I just kept holding him, wishing there was something I could do.

That was when he looked up and said, "You can fuck me if you want. You're not even half the size of Vinny."

"I'm not like Vinny at all," I told him. "I won't do anything unless you want me to."

"It don't matter," he replied. "I'm just a little shit eating piece of crap."

That was when I thought of it. "You're not," I said. "You're a sweet kid. As sweet as can be. Stand up."

He got out of my lap, looking a little apprehensive, and stood in front of me. I unhooked his belt, unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans, and pulled them down together with his underpants. His little dicklet, with the extra skin at the front, was as soft and small as it could be. I kissed it. Then I licked his little balls a couple of times and took his dick in my mouth. It started stiffening up.

"Very sweet," I smiled up at him. "As sweet as a kid can be. Now turn around."

I don't think he had a clue what I meant to do, but he shuffled around awkwardly with his pants around his ankles. I put my face against his ass, which was a lot harder than Mark's or Jeffy's, maybe from all the soccer. I nibbled at each little cheek. Then I pulled the cheeks apart, and licked at his hole.

He tightened up, and said, "Jesus, I shit from there! Why are you doing that?"

"To show you how sweet you are," I answered. "Now let me back in there. It's as sweet as... Bosco."

..........

I think I had more sex that school year than any other year of my life. Summer came, and we all went back to Scout camp for two weeks of boy-orgy time. In the fall, I moved up to the high school, where I learned it was totally not cool to belong to the Boy Scouts. Richie, who was in eleventh grade that year, was considered an absolute dork by everybody, although he did somehow, make it to Eagle Scout. Linda remained flat as a board, and so was relegated to the outcasts, although she still managed to get pregnant by somebody the year after.

I got laid by Rosa DeLaurio, who would fuck with anybody, and then started going with Liz, who gave a very good blowjob if you were willing to lick her clit in return. (It was about then I learned about clits.) I hardly ever saw Jeffy or Mark, and Anthony moved away. I guess you'd say I turned into a straight guy, but to this day I look at those cute boys, just coming up on puberty, and remember how it was when I was a kid -- back in the 1950s.

(That's all he wrote, lads! Comments and criticisms to heedon@tormail.org will be appreciated.)