Date: Wed, 21 Nov 2012 07:02:44 +0000
From: chuck haugan <chuckles97@live.com>
Subject: Boys by the Bay / Part 3 / Rich Boy Poor Boy

This is a short story of the life of a kid growing up in the late 70's.
This whole thing is nothing more than one big lie!  This is why we call it
fiction.  So, none to the names or places should be considered real.

Having said that, if you are prohibited from reading sexual contact due to
age, banned by local law, or have issue with reading stories of people
engaging in sex within the following pages, stop reading now and go find
the Disney page.  This bit of fiction is not for you!  You are warned!

All the copy and legal crap that normally apply and sited for stories
posted here also apply to this story.  This story can not be reproduced
without the consent of the author.



Rich Boy Poor Boy



My parents were Buick people.  So, the trip to and from the service was the
most interesting part of the day.  The Lincoln was like driving around a
living room.  The seats were leather, with so much cushion, they sucked
your body in.  The ride floated along and sank or heeled with every turn or
bump.  It was like our Buicks, but on a grander scale.

Chris's bitch little sister sat between us, in the back seat, during our
rides to and from church .  She's ten and flirted with me.  Chris warned me
that his friends were open season for her.  Between her chatter, me and
Chris had come up with a running joke for riding in the back of the
Lincoln.  As we passed a car or were stopped at signal, we'd crane our
necks and stick our noses in the air which sent other drivers into laughter
or heads shakes of disgust.  My favorite reaction were people who looked
away abruptly in embarrassment.  We just giggled at any attention we
received.

The liberation of Chris began at age 11½ with the joke of the Lincoln.
Chris's Dad yelled at us to, "Knock it off," and the look in Chris's eyes
was not of fear but of hate.  It was obvious to me after seeing the same
look in David's eyes the day we kicked the shit out of Andy.  I was a
little shocked that Chris had it in him.  Chris was in a fighting mood that
would probably lost his entire life.

 I couldn't believe people were as stupid to believe the egotistical
preacher at Chris's church.  Those people were worshiping that charismatic
prick rather than the intent of "Christ."  I had to admit, he was hip,
slick, and cool.  He spoke to the old as well as the youth in one voice.
His parish sang and hollered through the service.  Kids jumped around the
sanctuary, families held each other in small groups or payer, and the old
folks raised their hands in the air throughout the sermon.  All the noise
and rustling about was unacceptable where my family attend.  In a way, I
found it charming and fun.

We prayed, stood, waived our hands, and let the adults have their fun.  The
guy was full of shit and, my gut told me that Chris knew this, as well.

At mid service, I excused myself to go to the bathroom.  The church was an
old Safeway store renovated to accommodate a few hundred people, I guessed.
There were to many adults using the facilities at the foyer.  I was a
little embarrassed to whip it out at my stage of development, around people
I didn't know.  I was proud of what I had but didn't like an old hairy dude
staring at my prick.  I wandered around the perimeter of the sanctuary and
found a hallway that wound to the back of the building with the reward of a
secluded men's room.  Two seven or eight year old boys were walking up the
opposite direction as I went in.  Once inside I was glad I took the hike
since there were no users.  The urinal was one of those long porcelain
trofts that had as weep pipe that ran the length and could accommodate four
or five men at once.  I unzipped and as I did, I heard the door open and
the flapping of one of those kids feet.  He ran up and stood right next to
me as I peed, so close his shoulder almost touched my arm.  I peered down
at his deep brown little mop top head and noticed his little worm of a
penis was not streaming any piss: he just stood there.  As I shook off he
peered at my cock and then looked up at me with a smile.

"Goofy," I suggested of his action, tucked, and zipped up as I walked over
to the community sink.  I soaped up, and rinsed off and, the kid did the
same routine: mimicked me while standing as close as possible.  I grabbed
three of four sheets of the folded paper towels, handed them to my little
mirror, and then took some for myself to dry off.  His brown eyes stared up
at me as he dried.

I faked a shot at the waste basket and he tossed his in and finally spoke,
"Shoot!  Why'd you tricked me?!"

I tossed my towels in the basket and ruffled his long hair and he looked up
smiling.  I bent down and asked, "A dare, huh?"

"Yup"

"Tell your buddy that I have a really small dick...  That yours is way
bigger!"  He giggled.  " That I have all this hair around it but you
couldn't even see where my dick was...  It looked like a stream flowing
form the patch.  I could`ve been a GIRL!"

"What?"

"Just make something up.  I'd do dares like this when I was a kid to.  The
next time you're dared to do something like this, just go into the stall ,
wait, and make something up before you follow the guy out."  His face went
to a blush.  "Look, I don't mind the dare or even you taking a peak, but
that's me.  I don't want you to get yelled at or something, is all."  I
told him with a smile.  "Just make stuff up because a guy might tell on you
or beat the crap out of you for looking at is junk."  He nodded his head
and smiled at me probably with relief that he wasn't in trouble.

I stood back up and walked out with him at my heals.  He huddled up with
his buddy in a mass of whispers, They started laughing and giggling, as I
walked back to the sermon.  I figured my message went nowhere.  I had done
some of the same dares when I was younger.  I realized a kid with that kind
of nerve will learn the hard way.

I sat down next to Chris again.  He whispered in my ear, "I'm so bored I
think I'm gonna cry.  Will this ever end?"  I shrugged my shoulders.  I
guessed, if you had to sit through this every week, it would become boring:
just as I was bored at our church services.

As we walked out into the overcast summer sky, Chris's Dad asked what I
thought.  I told him that it was fun compared to the Lutheran services and
loved the feeling of family between the members.  He nodded and then asked,
"What about the message of Pastor Kevin?"

I had tuned the Pastor off and only took in bits and pieces of the service
so I told the truth by omission.  "I didn't understand some of it, but he
seems inspired about the rewards of belief.  Do you think God really
blesses those that give of themselves like that?"

"Sure.  We're reaping the benefits of worship everyday.  Sometimes, you
just have to step back from your day and take a look.  Well, if you want to
come back, you're always welcome here.  There's a Thursday youth group that
teaches the spirit and scripture, prior to Sunday's sermon.  Maybe the next
time you come along, you should go there with Chris, prior to Sunday.  You
are always welcome here, my boy."

"Wow, thanks.  I'll ask my Mom and Dad, for next week."

Chris pulled at hand and we raced to the Lincoln.  "I'm so glad that's over
with," Chris said as we panted from the run, now out of ear shot of his
family.

"I kept looking for David and Billy but didn't see them anywhere."

"I think they go to the 2:00."

"There's two!?"  Chris nodded.  And, it dawned on me what my Dad told me of
many churches being businesses, at heart, rather than carrying the
"message."  Not that we were Bible thumpers: being Lutheran, we kind of
just let things live and tried to walk the walk- and were filled with guilt
of original sin through the sins of living life.

Dad was a homework Nazi.  He was most concerned with math, during our
elementary school years.  He drilled us with arithmetic and word problems,
since "We speak in words, not numbers," he'd preach.  He claimed he would,
"Fill in the blanks of what our teachers left out."  All of his math drill
related to life lessons of finance, business, or solving some problem of
building a structure.  I loved those one on ones with Dad.  Once I had
reached the sixth grade, he taught me the basic concepts of how businesses
work.  I might not picked up all the terms but that was not Dad's purpose.
He didn't want accountants as kids: he didn't want to raise "Suckers."  As
a man who owned several businesses, he claimed this knowledge as his trait
to pass on to his children.

I had just witnessed a guy hold out his hand and suckers pass bucks to him
(revenue), walked through a low budget building masked as a church
(overhead), and was now staring at a new Mercedes Benz, 300CD, with
personalized plates "Preach 1" (net profit).  What was his product?  A lie
that only he could deliver.  What was his capital investment?  None, the
suckers paid for it all as he probably started preaching for suckers in the
streets.  And, there was no doubt in my mind, I was being recruited as a
sucker.  It was uncomfortable.

A scam was being run on me while me and Chris were running a scam on his
parents.  The difference was, the scam that was coming my way was evil!
Recruit them young! This place was all about profit motivation of a few
men.  I loved my Dad for preaching to his kids.  There was no way I'd hook
to these people.

Chris's parents sent me home after lunch.  I was pissed: I didn`t get any
alone time with my little buddy.  Sunday was a boring day for kids around
my neighborhood.  It went deep into the afternoon, for kids to be liberated
from the Church for play.  As for Chris, I may not see him until next
Saturday.  If he fucked up by doing something stupid and get grounded, I
might not see him until September.  I figured the joke we made in the
Lincoln may have grounded him.  "No wonder he hates his Dad," I thought as
I walked home.  I undid my tie and unbuttoned my white oxford to get some
freedom.  I hated wearing scratchy wool slacks and the rest of the dress up
crap that was the required uniform of a clean cut, Lutheran.

At home, everyone was out in the yard sinking more vegetable plants in the
ground that Mom had started in the green house.  Apart from our primary
vegetable garden, our landscapes were populated with pumpkin, zucchini,
tomato, parsley, and other herbs and veggies mixed between the shrubs.
This was something Dad's family did in Europe so we gardened the same way.
My friends would always rib me for the craziness of my Dad's gardening.

It wasn't that I wanted to avoid work.  It was that I wanted to be alone
so, I snuck down to my bedroom, shut the door, and tore those uncomfortable
clothes off my body leaving them on the floor.  A feeling of dread had sank
into me that I couldn't explain.  So, I pealed off my underwear and climbed
into bed naked.  I felt incredibly sad and alone again, just as I had
before David's party.  Before I knew it, I was asleep.

Mom shook me awake a few hours later and asked me if I was sick.  I
shrugged my shoulders.

"Where's your shorts?" she asked, looking down at my exposed hip from her
crouch beside my bed.  I shrugged my shoulders again.

"I won't have you sleeping like that.  It's how dirty people sleep and we
won't have that in this house."  I felt blood flow into my cheeks.

"Sorry Mom, I just felt so tired."  She placed her cool hand to my forehead
and shook her head.  "You feel fine."

"You've been slothful ever since Jon left. Your friend will be back, honey,
and don't leave David out!  Spend more time with David...  You used to
spend every waking hour with him...  If you had a fight with him, you'd
tell me wouldn't you?

I shrugged.  She stared at me and I rolled onto my stomach to avoid her
gaze.

"Stop moping around: it's contagious.  Don't infect us with your moods.
Get your butt out of bed, sink your hands in the soil, it will take your
mind off of what ever it is that has you so bothered."  She said this
lovingly as she lightly spanked my butt.  "You need to get out of bed and
help your sister and father in the yard!  I mean now!"

She got up and walked to the door and turned to me, "Jon, snap out of it or
your Dad will give you a whole new set of tasks to deal with all summer
long.  Remember that you have that hockey thing this week with Bradley and
your friends.  Don't miss that because you made the wrong decision today.
Your Dad is asking where you are and I had to call Chris's.  And then I
find you here.  Do you think I'm happy to find you here right under my
nose?  You didn't even check in.  I had to call them back because they were
about to gather the hounds!  Do your chores, do that workout thing your
coach wanted, play your sports, and be a kid.  That's what you're built for
not a sad sack."

Inside, I wanted to roll my eyes and give her the finger.  I knew she was
right about my Dad's theories of keeping a boy busy.  I didn't want him to
set my agenda for the rest of the summer.  So, I nodded my head and stood
up from the bed, without thinking.  For a moment, my modesty slipped to
that of an eight year old who didn't care, if Mom saw his naked body.  Her
expression went flat, as she looked at my body.  She looked at me for a few
seconds then turned, "Get your church clothes off the floor, you're not a
filthy animal!" and closed the door.  I wondered what she thought as I
looked down at my little patch of pubes above my skinny cock.

I masked my depression and sadness.  David called the house a few times
during the week and we got together to kick the soccer ball around.  I
couldn't shake that Chris was off limits and Jon was gone for a few more
weeks.  Not even the prospect of the 4th of July mattered.  Beating my meat
didn't seem as fulfilling as sharing myself with another.  I craved
physical contact.  I purposely altered my three mile run to pass Chris's
place hoping we'd see each other.

On Wednesday, I called a couple of guys for Fridays floor hockey game.
David and my defensive partner, Collin, were on board, as usual.  I took it
upon myself to call over to Chris's.  His Mom answered the phone and
recognized my voice which made me feel welcome in Chris's family for the
first time.  Since I knew she or the old man would call the shot, I became
bold and skipped the small talk.

"May Chris come along with David and I, to the Harbor, to play some floor
hockey, on Friday?"

She paused, "David will be there...  Who else is going?"

"Billy, Brad, and some other kids from our team... It will only be a couple
of hours and then we're home.  Please can he come?  He's really good:
everyone likes his play.  Please?"  my voice cracked a little on the last
"please" and I could feel my eyes well up.  I was emotional from fear but
mostly because I knew playing with us would make Chris happy.  I think she
could sense my emotion through the phone and was trying to process what I
had asked.

"Jon, we enjoyed having you with us on Sunday and hope that you had a good
time.  I don't think it would hurt Chris to have a few extra hours of free
time.  But, you will need to ask him." With that, I heard her hand cup the
phones receiver and her muffled yell for her son followed by pounding feet
approaching the phone.

"Here's Chris, Jon, Goodbye"

"Jon!"

"Hey Crisco!"  I almost yelled, "Wanta play some hockey, on Friday, in the
Harbor?  Brad and David's Mom's reserved Court C for an hour each and
Billy's brining the big wrench to take the net down and you can use one of
my old sticks!  Everyone`s gonna be there!"

"Yeahhhh! The last time I played was in gym!  When!"

"At two"

I could hear his heart hit the floor, "I need to ask my Mom and Dad," he
said in a dead tone.

"I already did, dumby.  You`re in!"  He paused probably in disbelief and I
knew his Mom was standing somewhere within ear shot of him.  "Just say yes
so she can hear it."

"Cool, if Mom said yes then YES!"

"I think I need to go with you to another service.  Not this week but
soon."  Chris didn't need to be prodded any further.

"Yeah, okay, I'll ask them about the Sunday after next.  It's too bad your
Dad wants you there this week."

"You're good."  I observed.

"Yup."

"We'll pick you up at 1:00.  You don't need to bring a thing: we have all
the gear.  If you need a ride home, David's Mom will bring us back.  My
mom`s just dropping us off...  Make sure you tell your Mom that cause I
don`t want you in trouble."

"Cool!"

"See ya, Crisco."

"Thanks, Jon.  I can`t wait!"

"Bye."

When I hung the phone up, all the nervousness, fear, sadness and depression
had left my body and were replace with hyper elation.  It was like I had
scored a fluke goal from behind the blue line.  I punched the air and
screamed, "YES!"  I called David to tell him not to bother calling Chris.

David liked riding shot gun in the Buick.  I didn't really care since I was
lowest in the sibling pecking order: the backseat was just a condition of
life.  Chris was waiting at the head of his driveway at 1:00 and my Mom was
shocked that a kid could be so punctual on a summer day.  We picked up dirt
bag Billy next.  Unlike Chris`s place, his barn was real and full of
cattle, a few horses and a loft of hay.  I hated the stench of his place.
Once in a while they'd slaughter a cow by bounding its hind legs to the end
of a line connected to a tractor and then hoist the carcass from a huge oak
limb.  We would see the men carving away at the body as our school bus
passed and stopped to drop Billy off.  I was petrified by the sight.  After
the slaughter, Billy would impale the animal's head, on a fence post, at
the roads edge, to add a bit of gore.  Eventually, after a week or so, his
father would remove the head, to the relief of everyone.

My Mom honked the horn a couple of times and opened the trunk.  And, as
usual, no Billy.  David hopped out of the car and ran to the back of the
farmhouse.  A few minutes latter, he appeared with Billy and his gear.
Billy's dad was good with his hands, as most farmers are, and had build
some collapsible goals from some plastic plumbing pipe and discarded
fishing net.  The Buick had just enough trunk space for all of our gear.
Our mother's were used to this labor intense routine of kids loading up
hockey gear in their cars.  A hockey mom is the most patient and tolerant
being on the planet!

The Harbor's park was built shortly before WWII.  The court we reserved was
a stand alone court that was added by Billy`s grandparents land grant.  The
new courts were fenced in pairs and Court C was the only stand alone that
was part of the original park.  We could never pull off these get
togethers, if this stand alone court didn`t exist.  The beauty of the place
was the green lawns and the arborist associations commitment to plant as
many "specimens" here as possible.  When I was a little kid, Mom would
bring me here to walk the paths and take in the colors of early spring and
fall.  I still cherish those times with her.

We were 15 minutes early arriving at the tennis courts.  Collin and his
buddies were already there staring down two fat assed middle aged women
playing on "our ice."  This tactic never really worked but was always used
by the first group to arrive.  When Collin saw us, he smiled so brightly
and ran to the Buick.

We were paired up as defensemen most of the time we played.  In the
playoffs, we were "the unit" on penalty kills and against what coach
thought was the opponents top line.  On the ice, we had the same
relationship as I had with David, only with the puck as our primary
communication.  We had each others backs and we knew what our jobs were and
more importantly, what our team expected of us.  We both loved defense for
the same reason: to piss the other guy off!  We enjoyed the role of
spoiler.  There was nothing better than poking a puck away, closing down a
shot for the goal keeper to make a save, and a defensive give and go out of
our end was our simple reward.

Collin was an Irish kid with hazel eyes, freckles and sandy brown hair.  He
was a natural defenseman with a stout build for a kid.  Something told me
that, if I didn't keep working on my body, we'd end up looking like Tom and
Jerry.  When he was a junior in high school, he was a 200 pound giant of a
defenseman.  I barely pushed a buck sixty five.

Billy, Chris and David began assembling the goals as I jumped my fellow
defenseman.  We mach jabbed and punched at each other as our Mother's
looked on shaking their heads.  We didn't care.  We exchanged tricks of
balancing and bouncing a tennis ball on the blade of our hockey sticks as
everyone gathered at the gate of the court.  Seven boys were now staring
the old bitches down and they finally got the message and left the court
early.  A triumph for us!

More kids rolled in that took our total to 12.  The goals were moved in and
the net tennis net went down, just as Brad's family wagon rolled in the
parking lot.  Two other kids from the team piled out and a kid that was
obviously Brad's little brother.  We had never seen him before.  He was a
mini version of this brother in every way: even his hair cut.  "Mom made me
bring him.  He's a total pansy.  Doesn't even skate!"

I smiled and replied, "At least you're not the youngest...  That sucks!"

"Hey!" Brad announced, "Ditch the tennis balls!" as he tossed four red
hollow pucks on the court.  We all cheered because trying to settle a
tennis ball on a blade is harder than it sounds and this made the game fun
for kids, like Chris and Brad's brother, to handle the speed of the game
since the hollow pucks moved way slower on the gritty tennis court surface.
We shot around while the parents drove off to run arrends or do what ever
it is they did while their kids were busy.

I fired a full speed pass to Collin.  The hollow pucks moved at half speed
compared to ice.

"Fuck it! It takes every thing to make this puck move!" Collin hissed as he
fired it over to David.  Who then topped some spin and sent the puck rink
wide over to Brad who was able to knock it out of the air with a high
stick.

"Collin, don't be such a baby!  At least there's some control on the damn
puck.  Tennis balls suck," David said with authority.  I agreed and kept
the shoot around going.  .

A few minutes later teams were chosen.  This was only a formality or a
simple tradition of us kids.  Unlike, regular hockey, our version of floor
hockey omitted the goal keeper.  We played with three defensemen.  The
spirit of our game was nobody kept score, switching sides was appropriate,
when the other side seemed to be getting squashed, and everyone focused on
firing as many shots as possible...  That included us defense guys.  At any
time, a kid or two would step out to piss, drink or bullshit with a friend.
Sometimes the match up would be 10 on 3!  This was a fun time for all.

Chris held his own, as usual, while Brad's little bother chased the puck
all over the rink.  Brad wasn't lying, the kid was a little awkward and
un-thoughtful with his play.

After about an hour of play, I bailed off to the bathroom located fifty
yards from the court.  I turned back to see Chris running toward me with
his bright white toothed smile.  He jumped in the air as he made up the
last few feet.  "Thanks for getting me out of there!"  Meaning his house.

"No problem." And, I gave him a playful push.  We continued to walk to the
bathroom.  As we went through the door we both looked back to see nobody
following.  I hated these bathrooms: the concrete floors absorbed piss from
guys, like me, that didn't stand close enough to the fixture so there was a
stench that could never be cleaned.  Towels and soap were absent from the
sinks, and the mirrors were taken out due to vandals.  We stepped up to the
urinals and whipped them out.  I stared at him as he did me.  Our streams
flowed, subsided, and we shook off.  Chris's cock throbbed to a hard-on as
he shook.

"God damn, Chris!" I whispered.  He smiled at me and I leaned in to give
him a kiss.  There is no better connection to a person than the first kiss
of the day.  The slick, smooth, feel of his lips and our bodies coming into
contact had me popping to life.  The door swung open and we broke apart as
Brad's little brother came flying around the curtain wall, up behind us and
took my spot as I walked to the sink.  Chris was freaked.  Out of the
corner of my eye, I watched the kid do a fast feet dance and shutter as the
sound of his stream hit the back of the porcelain.  "Ahhhhhhh!" He moaned.
I knew there was only one thing on his mind and he probably wouldn't
notice, even if Chris were sucking me off, when he came in...  To a ten
year old at play, the last thing you want to stop for is a piss so, the
overwhelming urge of relief places blinders on his eyes.

I really wanted to give Chris a hand job again.  I wanted to watch his face
and body react to my touch.  All of that would have to wait, thanks to our
little intruder.

"Brad's brother, huh?"  I asked, as I turned on the facet only to find
there was no water.  Chris looked at me like I was crazy to talk to the
kid.

"No shit, Sherlock!"

"Sorry dude, what's your name?"  Being the youngest in my family, I
understood the kids reaction.  Everything he did was compared to his older
sibling.  It sucked.  I hated being linked to my brother and sisters.

"Jan"

"That's what my name is supposed to be... I'm Jon and this is Chris."  He
wiggled his hips as he shook him self, brought his gym shorts back in
order, and turned to face us.

"You know Brad's real name is Bjorn?  Our parents didn't want him singled
out.  I guess they never figured I'd be the only Jan, anywhere...  At least
that`s a boy."  He explained, as we left the bathroom.

"That sucks."  Chris said.

"Do you guys go to the Academy?"

"No way." Chris stated with distain.

"Umm. We go to Foster...  Public."  I said.

"Oh.  Good!  I didn't think I recognized you.  There's one kid here that
goes to my school.  Mike.  He's a dick just like my asshole brother."

"That asshole is a friend of mine, friend."  I said, as I gave Jan a
playful shove.  Chris looked at this kid like the team had, when Brad
stepped on the ice for the first time: the kid was an alien.  A ten year
old with a foul mouth!

"Not for long...  You'll see."  Jan stuttered, at my last comment.

I chalked Jan's comments up to being a kid brother.  He was interesting: he
played soccer, hates hockey, hates swimming but his parents made him join
the swim team, loves gymnastics but there wasn't a team around our area (I
latter found out that their father thought it was a fag sport), and loved
to read.  He told us about the trampoline set up in their yard and how he
could do flips.  I had never met a kid that owned such a toy.  I wanted to
bounce!

The thing that drew me to Jan was that he looked exactly like his older
brother: only a foot and half shorter and packed with the cuteness of a
young boy.  I wished I had peered to see his equipment in the bathroom.  I
betted that was a mirror image, as well, and just as bald as Chris`s stuff.
His ass was more rounded due to his petit size and his features were more
feminine due to his age.  There was more sweetness in his face and his
voice was softer than his brother.  My dick told me to dive into his pants
but my mind told me hands off: he's ten and you're thirteen... Almost.  We
sat on the bench that faced our rink.

"So do you board at the Academy as well?"  I asked.

"Yeah!  I thought I'd hate it but it's okay.  This was my first year to
board!  There's six of us in a room.  It's like a sleep over.  The only
thing is that you have to get up at 5:30 every morning and you're in bed at
8:00 every night.  There's no late night parties or anything like that."

"You don't miss your room or pets or any of that?"  Chris asked.

"Nahhh.  We don't have a dog or anything.  Dad's always working anyway.  I
miss my Mom sometimes.  But, it's only a few days and then I'm home."

"What do you guys do for like hygiene?"

"What?"

"What are the bathrooms like, I mean are they in your room or what...  Can
you get away without brushing your teeth and wiping your ass?"

He laughed, "Eleven and younger shower every Tuesday, Thursday and it's up
to you, if you spend the weekend but you have to be clean on Monday.  We
have to after morning exercise and breakfast are over.  The older guys have
to shower every evening or morning depending on their bunk assignment.
There`s a couple of teachers that make sure we clean up.  Mr. Clark is
alright but Mr. McKenny is a dick."

Do you shower together like at the swim pool or is it like the club with
stalls?

"At 6:50 we line up all naked.  The showers are at one end of the floor and
we go in eight at a time, when the floor monitor says.  If you're not
first, you have to wait in line.  So it's kind of a race so your not
standing around naked.  It sucks in the winter cuz it's cold.  Everyone
gets seven minutes.  The floor monitor times us and makes sure we wash.  He
stands there and watches.  He counts down from thirty when the showers end
and we have to dry off and then walk back to our room to dress.  It was
really scary and at first."

"I couldn't do that," Chris said flatly.

"You will in seventh grade: PE.  Get ready Crisco!  Same shit.  The gym
teacher stands there and makes sure everyone hit's the showers."

"NO WAY!"

"Ohhhh, yeah!  How do you think I know so much about Todd, David, and
Collin's junk?"  I asked, as I pointed at my crotch.  Jan laughed and Chris
looked at me with shock of what was to come in his life.

"Sometimes, a kid will pop a boner!  We use them as towel racks!"  Jan
said, between laughs.  Chris laughed.

"Yeah, but you guys are younger!"  Chris replied.

"So.  Everybody gets em.  Even Brad got one this year.  I heard about it!"

"I suppose it's hard to hide any secrets, at that place, isn't it?"  I
asked.

"Hell yeah.  Don't even try."

Chris went back to playing.  We sat on the bench and watched my buddies
degrade the game to pack hockey that seven year olds play.  This was the
usual outcome as the game shifted to pure fun.

"What's the worst thing about staying there?"

Jan thought for a second.  "Taking a crap."  I laughed really hard for a
few seconds.  "I'm not kidding.  There's no doors on the stalls and kids
make fun of you, when you fart or something...  Most try to hold it for the
middle of the night but that makes the day suck, if you feel it in the
morning.  I got a screaming bad headache once from holding it."

I thought about it for a second and realized that aspect would really suck.
Just watching my buddies conduct themselves on the tennis court convinced
me there would be no mercy.

"What's bad about Foster?"

"That thing you said about boners?  It's bad there.  If a kid popped one,
he'd be run out of there.  You know: a fag."  Jan stared at me intently.
"The stalls have doors so you can wait people out after you drop a load.
Or get excused during class easy enough...  So taking a dump isn't a big
deal."  I laughed.

The hockey was now full contact with wrestling moves and full hip checks.
I smacked Jan on the back of the head as I jumped up and entered the court.
I snuck behind David and with a quick tug dropped his gym shorts to his
knees.

"YOU PRICK...  I'm gonna kill you!"  David yelled, as he tried to run and
pull his shorts up at the same time.  But, there was laughter in his voice
as he chased me around and around the perimeter of the court a couple of
times as the other boys taunted and cheered him on.  When I finally let him
catch me, he grabbed me in a head lock, flipped me around while bending me
over so that the back of my head ended up between his legs, he clamped my
head into a lock with his thighs, and reached over my back to toss my gym
shorts down my legs.  He held me there as the other boys busted up laughing
at my exposed ass.  David, being my brother, let me go before anybody could
do any ass slapping.  I was red in the face, but so was David.  We were
even.

I peered over at Jan and he was sprawled out on the bench in hysterics.
His brother was laughing and calling us fags along with some of the other
kids while others continued to shoot the puck around.

Shortly after, a family showed up to claim the court.  The father
threatened us because we pulled the net.  We went through the same argument
with every following group every time we invaded the tennis courts. We had
the court back to normal with a few minutes to spare and as usual, the man
threatened to turn us into the parks department.  We learned to ignore them
since the village knew kids did this every year and, for the most part, we
were respectful.  The parks department did nothing about complaints against
us.

As parents trickled in to pick up their kids, Brad walked over to me and
thanked me and David for getting the game together.  He couldn't believe
how much fun it was and wanted to con more parents into reserving the Court
"C".

"Do you want to come back to the house with us?  We`re having burgers
tonight."  Brad asked me.

"Sure!"  I had heard about his place from other kids and really wanted to
see how a rich kid lived.

"Do you need to get permission?"

"Yeah.  But...  I think I could just call from your place."  I was banking
on my Mom's charity of trust with her kids.  The worst I'd ever been
grounded was a month, after me and David beat the living shit out of Andy.
I was willing to take a gamble.  Jan wandered up to us with Chris at his
heals.

"Hey Chris, I'm gonna go over to Brad's for a while."  Chris's face went
blank and I reacted to him at once.

"Brad, I gotta tell my ride so my parents don't freak.  Be right back." I
nudged Chris's shoulder and he followed me.

"Look man, all we're missing together is the seven mile ride back.  I'll
see you tomorrow afternoon.  Dad's going to make me do some yard work I
didn't do this morning.  Want to meet in the field at like two?"

There was relief in Chris's face and I think he could understand that it
wasn't everyday a kid got invited to Brad's house.  And, that there was no
way in hell his parents would ever let him go there.  Chris nodded his
head, "I'll ask Dad if we can go sailing.  Can we go to the Point?"

"Hell yeah!  Really secluded and only twenty minutes out with a good wind."

"Secluded for what?"  Jan piped up from behind me.

"Shooting crows." Chris lied.

Jan nodded his head, "Good!  I hate those noisy shits."

I put my arm around Chris and walked him to David's Mom's pickup truck.
For hockey kids, an arm around a mate, like this, was not considered out of
the ordinary.  We then helped David and Billy tear down the goals and toss
the sticks in back of the truck.  All three boys piled into the bed of the
stinky, Chevy, diesel.  I waived Brad over, as I approached David's Mom, at
the window of the pickup.

"Boys.  What are you up to?"  She asked with a smile.  She knew me far to
well.

"Brad asked me over and I'm gonna call Mom from his house."

"Jon, that's not the plan.  Your Mom may not want you to...  You don`t have
her permission...  She may have other plans for you- it`s Friday, after
all."

"Yeah, but, I'm always staying over at your place for dinner and stuff and
she lets me."

"Your Mom knows me."

"But she knows the Carlson's from the hockey games!  I will call her and if
she says no, then they`ll give me a ride home.  I promise," Brad was a good
liar too.  He didn't let on that there was no such option on the table.

"You've never lied to me have you?"

"I did a couple of times but you know about them."  I said with a smile and
she gave me the motherly look of "cut the crap kid."

"You better call her when you get there.  We're going for ice cream at
Hanson's.  If I get back to the Island and you haven't called her, I will
drive up there and personally skin you alive!  I won't need your Mom's
permission for that...  I guarantee it!  Where is your Mother, Bradley?"

"Dennis is picking us up but she doesn't care, if we add one for
dinner... Really! Denis is cooking anyway!  She won`t mind."  She looked at
us like we were complete morons.

"You better call or I will never hear the end of it!"

"Thanks," I said. "Bye...  Latter guys!"  We all exchanged goodbyes with
everyone, as Moms kept streaming in for their sons.

Dennis was late to pick us up.  I had no idea who Dennis was.  Brad
explained that he stayed in the guest house during summer breaks since two
summers ago.  He was the families live in tutor.  Dennis went to university
studying education and wanted to be an administrator or something.  These
boys had summer school, at their house, during the morning hours, five days
a week.  That was just wrong, in my book, because summer is for fun.  Brad
and Jan received refresher and head start math as well as reading a few
books every summer at the direction of Dennis.  His other duties included
bussing the kids around and watching them when the parents were out.  Brad
told me that he was on the university swim team and worked out with the
local swim club along with the kids.

"He's the best," piped Jan.

"Sometimes he gets in the middle of a book or something, and looses track
of time.  He said not to call unless he's twenty minutes late," Brad
stated, as he produced a couple of quarters from a little pocket on the
inside of his gym shorts.  Just as Brad completed the sentence, the Volvo
came screeching around the entrance sign of the park and into the parking
lot.

"Shit, guys, I'm so fucking sorry! I went for a run and went way to far!"
He wasn't wearing a shirt.  His body was what I wanted to look like when I
grew up: muscle tone without being bulky, pecks, lean six pack, and the
elusion of pent up energy.  Like his charges, he was deeply tanned.
Although, his hair didn't match his chiseled face.  It was dark yet graying
and frayed from the prolonged chlorine exposure.  Some of the strands
looked so brittle, as if they'd snap if touched. It really looked like
shit.

We pilled in, after tossing Brad's gear in the back of the Volvo wagon.
Dennis didn't act phases by the fact he was picking up a different head
count: one less than he had dropped off a few hours ago.  I guessed the two
boys dragged buddies with them at will.  Jan sat in the back with me.
Dennis drove really, really, fast.  I betted Brad's parents had no idea
what they purchased with his lack of concern for their kid's safety.  Even
with the windows rolled down and the wind breezing through, I could smell
Dennis.  If anything, he was honest about his run.  His oniony odor was
pungent.  The radio was cranked to some Led Zeppelin and Jan was doing some
goofy head movements in response to the music's beat.  I was liking him
more and more.  "The kid's a crack up," I thought.

Dennis sped up the hill on the opposite side of the Harbor and then down
the other side of the peninsula that formed the undeveloped rim of the
protected Harbor.  Brad's house was a mass of land at the tip of the
peninsula that formed the marine entrance to the Harbor.  Our place was on
an Island that was west from here, across the main land that made up a
finger of our portion of the Puget Sound.  He was at least 9 miles from my
house which made him within bicycle distance!  I was excited by this
prospect since he appeared to have way more freedom of his free time due to
this Dennis character.

We came to the end of the road where the county asphalt gave way to a red,
brick driveway with elevated concrete edges.  We drove in and came to a six
foot tall iron gate.  Dennis pulled up to a stainless steel column, stuck a
key in which activated an opener and the gate split in two and swung open.
I had never seen one of these- not even on TV.  Jan explained about the
intercom and the gate could be opened from the house.  There was a closed
circuit video camera that was hidden in the trees somewhere to observe the
driveway.  I had no idea such things existed.

Brad pointed back to a brick rambler and informed me that it was owned by
the family and the people that lived their managed the estate.  I thought
that meant mowing the lawns and stuff.  But, it meant, total management of
what I latter learned was 50 acres, horses, grounds, the pool, tennis
court, boats, and as hard as it was to understand, food services.  The
Carlson's didn't even worry about gassing up their cars!

We continued on, at least a half mile, through a few curves and then down
the side of the hill.  Black rock retaining walls held back the hill along
the drive.  Fir, maple, and rhododendrons lined the walls.  The blue of the
Puget Sound could be seen through the gaps of the vegetation.  The drive
opened into car circle with a six car garage attached to a two story house.
The roof of the structure was copper that had developed a green and gray
patina from exposure yet, some of the dull gold could be seen at the ribs
that ran vertically up the roof.  The siding was a mix of cedar shake and
horizontal clap boards.  It was huge compared to my house and we had six
bedrooms!

A garage door opened and the Volvo slid beside what I learned was a Lotus,
beside that was a Cadillac Eldarodo, then a Ford Bronco, then a Jaguar E
Type, and a blank spot I assumed was for Dad's daily driver.  We piled out
and Dennis told us to forget the gear until morning, since Brad had
company.

"So, we eat in an hour or so.  I need to clean up or your Mom will kill
me."

"She's home?"

Dennis looked over at me then back to Brad, "Yeah, buddy, she was in the
kitchen lounge, when I left."

"Oh... Umm. Will it be okay?"  asked, Jan.  I looked at them with wonder.

Dennis shrugged his shoulders.  "Give it a shot."  And, Dennis hit the
button to drop the garage door as we filled out.

I followed the boys as they walked to the opposite side of the house, down
a gravel path that ran beside the house and then up a set of wooden stairs
that lead to a sundeck that ran the length of the house.  They explained
they're not allowed through the foyer when they're in play mode and had to
come in through here or the utility room in the basement.

The view from the deck was of the Sound and the landscape that ran 150
yards slightly down hill to the water.  There had to have been more than
1000' of water front since I couldn't see any inhabitants on either side of
the house.  I looked over the edge of the deck and realized the house was
three stories tall for half of the length.  The sundeck jetted out another
ten feet at the opposite end and I could see that the house recessed back
another six or eight feet.  There must have been 30 x 20 feet of sundeck on
the far end of the house!  The scale of the place was staggering for what I
learned my family really was: lower middle class!  Hard for me to believe
but if this was rich, we were a knats ass from being street people.  My
stomach sank.  My Dad did very well in life but, this was wealth unknown.

"What do you think?"

"You guys are lucky," I said, a decibel from a whisper.

"Dad said we earned it over generations of hard work...  Luck is for
idiots," Jan stated.

"Shut up, pansy.  You`re not suppose to say stuff like that."

"Brad, lay off, he's your bother."

"Jon, believe me, you have no idea!"  Jan looked down at the floor with a
red face.  I felt for him but decided not to push.

We walked over to the expansive part of the deck and the back of their
Mother's head came into view from the back of a chase lounge.

Brad stepped in front of her.  "Hey Mama, Jon from the hockey team is here
for dinner.  May he use the phone?"

She was wearing a dark pair of sunglasses with huge round lenses and a
white robe covered her body.  "Ohhhh.  How you, there Jon?"

"Great Mrs. Carlson.  Thanks for having me over."

"Ohhh Any time.  You boys have fun nooooow."  Her last sentence trailed off
and she hummed at the end.

Brad walked over to a sliding glass door and waived me through.  I had a
hard time walking away from her.  Something was really wrong with her.  She
was half asleep.  We stepped through and Brad slid the door shut.

"I think she's drunk," Brad stated, as he pointed to a couple of bottles of
wine on a granite counter.  "Look, if your Mom asks for her, just tell her
she went down to Safeway or something.  Not that my Mom would be caught in
a grocery store but it works most of the time until my Dad gets home."

This was a new experience for me.  I was used to lies to cover my buddies
tracks but not a Mom.  I later learned that she was addicted to "Mothers
Little Helpers:" Darvon mixed with alcohol.

I called my Mom and David's Mom had already called her from Hanson's.  She
told me that David's Mom was about to drive up and get me because she was
so riddled in guilt for letting me go without my Mom's permission.  Mom
laughed about how some mother`s over react to boys being boys.  She asked
what the place was like and I ended the phone call with "Thanks for letting
me, Mom."  My Mom wanted to know the life of the rich as much as I but, I
was not going into detail in front of my host.

As I was on the phone, I noticed the kitchen was comprised of industrial
looking appliances, like on TV, when Starsky and Hutch would chase a bad
guy through a resturaunt kitchen.  There was a mix of stainless, butcher
block and granite counters.  All of the cabinets were deep cherry with some
open shelves that held their daily use itesm.  "Smart," I thought.  The
lounge area had a six person dining table with a fire place at one end and
a living room set complete with a huge TV.  I couldn't believe this was a
kitchen or "kitchen lounge."  This was the same area and arrangement of
some of my friends entire living area of their houses!

"I gotta pee," Jan announced and scampered down a hall.

"Want to go for a swim before dinner?"  Brad whispered.

I looked down at the Sound and shook my head, "That's cold water down there
not like our bay."

"Come on."  Brad waived as he quietly opened the sliding door and we ran
down the other stair at the opposite end of the deck to ditch his little
brother.  We wound our way up some rock stair cases until we were slightly
higher than the elevation of the roof of the house.  The path opened to a
pool that was at least eighty feet by thirty feet wide.  There was a small
pool that jetted out beyond the four foot high hedge that lined the edge of
the hill over looking the Sound below.  At the opposite end, was a cabana
building that appeared to have a bar and a couple of bathrooms inside.

"Crap.  Brad.  This is amazing," I stated in a dead pan of disbelief.

"Yeah...  Let's jump in!"  Brad ripped his tee shirt off while he kicked
his shoes off, and then he peeled his socks off.  He ran about five steps
and with a graceful leap and perfect dive entered the pool.  He swam below
the surface with Dolphin kicks clear to the opposite end.

There was no way I was passing this up.  I stripped down to my gym shorts
in half a second to follow him in.

We splashed around an dove for markers.  Once in a while he'd jump out and
do a crazy jump or dive.  We tired after twenty minutes of frolic.  Brad
pulled himself the drip edge of the pool and sat there.  I swam over and
stood beside him. With no shame I stared directly at his stuff as his
shorts had clung to his junk revealing every fold and crease of his parts.
Brad watched me and I asked him what I had been thinking since the sleep
over.

"You're older than me, huh?"

"I`ll be fourteen in November.  My parents held me back in the first grade.
They read some crap about kids born in the winter months not achieving
academically with the kids born in spring and summer so they held me back."

"You're like a year older????  I thought so...  You`re way bigger than me."
I said, pointing at his junk.

"You faggot.  Shit.  You really are one, huh?"

"No.  I just hate having nothing.  Everyone my age seems to be bigger or
have more hair," I shrugged my shoulders at him, "It's not like I was going
to cock suck you, you prick."

"No shit, I was just teasing.  Don't be so damn defensive or I might think
you are queer."

"Sorry."

"Come on," He stood up and waived for me to follow.  The water beading up
on his body made him shimmer with sexy slickness.  He was developing into a
man quickly as his legs had some golden hairs on his calve muscles and I
could see hair below his arm pits when he dove and waived at me as we
played.  I was a bit jealous.

We ended up at that small pool and I jumped in.  The water was warmer than
bath water and I let out an "Ahhhhhhhh... NICE!."

"Hot Tub" said Brad, "Watch this."  He hit a button and the water erupted
like molten lava of bubbles and streams.

"HOLY SHIT!" I shouted.  I had heard jokes about hot tubs on Saturday Night
Live and seen them on Magnum PI but never experienced one.  We had two and
a half channels of TV from our crappy antenna.  It was like living in
Siberia!  We gazed at the blue water of the Puget Sound and main land
beyond.  I could imagine doing this on Christmas and New Years with all of
the steam wafting off the tub and the views of the Christmas lights on the
houses in the far distance.

"Hey, Jan was telling me about the dorms.  Why do your parents make you
stay there all week?  That has to suck."

"Dad was in a boarding school for 16 years, if you count college.  It's
like it makes a guy have to get along with everyone and appreciate what you
have.  That's what he told me.  I think it's okay...  Sometimes it sucks
like when you want to just go outside and can`t cuz of the schedule.  Or,
like just being alone.  It`s impossible."

"If it were David or you I think, I could do it... "

"People wear on each other.  It's weird after a while."

I took this in thinking about my parents and my siblings.  Other then camp,
I never had to bunk with a stranger.  I couldn`t fathom what he was talking
about, "Food okay?"

"No different than a crappy restaurant.  Mostly spaghetti and chicken.
Nothing special.  Breakfasts are the best part: Eggs, meat and tons of
potatoes with little peppers mixed in.  Although, coming home is a relief."

"Are there really no doors on the shitters?"

"What a fucking baby.  Everybody shits!  You just go in and get it over
with.  If somebody says something, they'll get blasted, when its their
turn.  It`s not that bad...  Really, Jan's a baby: what else did he say?"

"The shower lineup and stuff about kids that pop a boner!"  I giggled.

"It was his first year...  Popping a boner happens all the time.  I did it
the last week of school.  The other guys made fun of me but what goes
around comes around...  I said some stuff about a couple of guys that
popped em and then I went and popped one.  I never had that happen and it
just went up."

"Didn't jack off the night before?!"  I laughed.

"Fuck you."

"Yeah, I know, some times in the middle of class, I'm hard and squirming in
my seat.  The worst would be popping one in gym class.  There was a kid and
some guys were just... you know, checking his stuff, out of the corner or
their eye kinda thing, and he stood there, like all naked for a while
showing everybody his stuff.  So this guy I know, kinda figured that the
kid knew they were looking at him, and the kid that kid boned up!  Everyone
started yelling at him...  Fag!  He got the shit beat out of him a couple
of times and his parents eneded up transferring him to a school in town."

"That`s fucked up.  It just happens.  Why were those guys looking at him?
I mean...  aren't they the fags?"

"He had a foreskin.  Funny looking.  Ever seen one?"

"Yeah.  When I was ten, one of my roommates was like that.  Weird."

"Can a guy even..."  I made my hand into a fist and did the universal up
down motion.

"You don't know the half of it.  I bunk with a total perv who jacks it
right in front of me.  It's gross but I can't say a fucking thing cuz he's
from a legacy."

"A what?"

"A family that's gone to that shit hole for ever, so they get in because of
their family name and money.  If you say anything, it's like you end up on
the teacher's shit list cuz...  You know, the parents get in the middle.
And, you end up loosing, even when you're right."

"What a dork!  Is he, like messed up?  Retarded?  Queer?  What the fuck?
In front of five people!"

"He's an asshole alright, but it's just me in the room...  Oh, you bunk
with five kids when you're under twelve and then two to a room when you
turn thirteen...  The classes get smaller because some kids move on for the
7th or 8th grade.  Very few stay for 9th...  You get better showers and
stuff when you move up stairs.  It`s kinda cool."

"Do you choose your roommate?  I mean did you know he was like that?"

"Hell, no.  The floor monitors toss people together.  I'd never bunk with
him because...  He's spoiled, mouthy, and... Remember when I joined the
team?  I think it's what you guys thought.."

I felt my face redden.  I wasn't going to lie to him.  "Well, sorry dude.
We hated you...  But you`re nothing like that prick!  You`re like us.  I
don`t think any of us know how to say we`re sorry about all of that...  We
were really wrong.  Sorry.  I fucked up."

"No biggie...  It happens a lot.  It's kind like...  You know?  You're the
first guy to say that...  Sorry... Ummmm...  Can you keep a real secret?"

"Sure."

"There's all kinds of shit that goes on in the dorms... Like...  Well,
there's other's that jack off and others that don't do shit.  But,
then... Ummmmm... There's guys in the dorm that, like, mess with other
guys.  Like, suck dicks and other stuff.  There`s always a couple of kids
that do it every year.  When I bunked with other kids, there were times
when I`d wake up and this one kid was in another guys bed with him.  They
were like, jacking each other.  I never said a word to anyone.  And the kid
I saw never asked or got in my bed.  It was weird.  And, then I noticed
more stuff later on...  You know, a grade or two more."

I was shocked by everything that just came out of Brad`s mouth.  I guessed
he just wanted to get it off his chest to somebody outside of his world.
My cock was rock hard thinking about kids having sex and people keeping a
lid on who did what.  "Crap, are you fucking serious!  I mean, I guess
they`re everywhere?"

"Here's the deal at school," Brad continued, "There's like a hand full of
kids that do that kind of thing and twice as many that won't do it, like
jack a guy or something...  But, those guys will line up to get it.

Then it hit me, something wasn`t ringing true.  He had way to much
knowledge, "Ummm... Don't get pissed.  But, were you one of those kids that
lined up for some?"  We were looking directly into each others eyes and I
knew the answer before he opened his mouth.

"Fuck, yeah.  A blow job is a blow job.  What matters is who's giving and
receiving...  Don`t be the fairy on the wrong end of the cock!"

I laughed as a vision of him in a pink dress, sucking my cock, flashed
through my head. "I've had one too."  Brad nodded with what seemed like
relief of his honesty.

"I got mine when I was Jan's age from a guy that was our age...  He liked
us kids I guess.  All you had to do was ask him and he'd tell you when and
where.  Mine was in a single bathroom the teachers used after hours...  I
couldn't even shoot but it was amazing!  After I got off, I just zipped up
walked out."  Brad wasn't ashamed at all and kept his eyes on my face.  I
knew it was my turn to spill my guts.

"The kid that did me was the same age and it happened a few months ago,
after school, in the woods.  He offered and like you, who would refuse as
long as you don't get caught.  I came like crazy.  I thought my balls were
going to suck into my body."  Brad laughed.  I left out the part about me
initiating and returning the favor.

"Do I know the kid?"

"No.  He`s not on the team or anything."

`Would he do it again?  Would you do it again?"  Brad asked.

"Fuck yeah.  There isn't a girl out there that will suck or fuck.  My hand
is only good for so much, after experiencing that!  Shit.  No brainer!"  As
I said this, my cock was so damn hard and my thoughts were of sliding over
and stuffing my hand down his shorts.  But then, I thought of the
consequences: loosing my world.

"Me too.  You learn a shit load in the dorms!  A faggot at our school gets
passed around like a dishrag amongst all the horn dogs.  It`s not like
they're queer or anything.  They're just getting their rocks off!"

I had never heard the two terms "horn dog" and "rocks off"...  They were
self-explanatory.  It was either his age or his school: this kid knew way
more about sex than I.

"You know what would happen at Foster?"  He shrugged his shoulders at me,
"A kid like that... The Guys would kick the living shit out of him.  They'd
corner him in the gym or in a bathroom, beat him, shove him head first in a
toilet that`s filled with some kids shit and piss, toss his ass in the
school dumpster after lunches are over, beat him senseless on the bus, and
call him names every fucking minute of the day.  They would fucking kill
him.  Nobody would ever pass him around like at your school...  NO WAY!"

"Fuck."

"Yeah.  And, nobody would step in to stop it...  We just join in or walk
away...  It`s what guys do to fags."

"I could never suck a guy...  The stuff that comes out of there and it's a
dick, for fuck sake.  I can't say that queers don't deserve it.  It's just,
at our school... I don't know.  If you can get some looser to blow you, you
do."  My stomach sank at this comment.

"I've just had the one.  I doubt it will ever happen again from a guy," I
lied.  The last statement Brad made scared the hell out of me.

Brad looked over the edge and we could see Jan and Dennis headed down the
path to the shore with bags and boxes in hand.

"I was wondering why that little shit wasn't up here.  He'd blow Dennis for
sure.  I think the little queer's in love.  Let's get out.  It's almost
time for dinner.  I think Denis has already fired the grill."

We stepped out and walked toward the pool.

"We gotta wash the chlorine out or will end up with Dennis hair."

We walked over to the end of the cabana that faced into the hill.  It was
shielded from the pool by laurel hedges.  Beyond the hedge, four shower
head were mounted on the wall.  Brad pealed his gym shorts off and turned a
shower on.  I wanted to step in and kiss his body as I sink to my knees to
suck his cock.  He soaped up his hair with some stuff from a dispenser as I
stepped under a neighboring shower.  I pulled my shorts off to mimicked
him.  We stepped out of the showers to use the soap from the dispenser to
wash from head to toe.

"Hey Jon!"  I turned to see his cock at full mast poking through the suds.
"Seeeee!!  Boners happen!"

"Fag!"  I yelled and jumped over to him to push and wrestle.  I was hard
the second we made contact and Brad noticed.

"Look who's the faggot now!" he yelled and we both laughed as we struggled
and eventually ended up under a shower head rinsing the suds away which
also ended our wrestling.

"It happens," I said with a laugh.

"NO shit."

"I just figured something out," I stated, "Do you, like, swim naked up
here?  You don`t have a tan line."

He laughed, "Fuck yeah! We all do, even my parents! We go to Sweden every
couple of years.  At most beaches, kids run around in the buff up to the
age of like, 9 or 10.  There's beaches with topless women, no clothes at
all, and some just like here.  It's no big deal.  We moved in when I was 5
and the parents let us run around naked all the time.  We knew that when
people were over the clothes went on...  If friends roam here naked then we
could too.  Those are the rules.  If you drop drawers, I could care less!"

"I knew it!  I've done that at the far side of the island.  It's fun for
the first hour but then it's no big deal." I lied, in hopes of better times
on the next visit.  I figured he wouldn't want sex but at least I'd have
some scenery!

"Is that why your ass is pealing?"

"Yeah, I dropped em last weekend and stayed out to long," I lied some more.

We pulled our shorts on and gathered the rest of our clothes to carry with
us until we dried off.  I followed him down the path, through the gardens.
We came to the bulkhead where Dennis and Jan were laying out the food.
Four huge burgers where just topped with cheddar.  Brad grabbed my elbow
and dragged me over to a covered basket that was full of fries Dennis had
fried up in the kitchen and a bowl full of mixed fruit: melons,
strawberries and bananas.  Nothing was canned food.  All of it was fresh.
This was not normal. Most people we knew used canned fruit or only produce
that's in season.  They paid a fortune for all of this!  We dished up the
fruit, potatoes, and then a leaf salad, as Dennis was finishing slicing
tomatoes for the burgers.  These kids ate well.

Dennis was a grill master and we had a tasty meal that we raved about to
our chef.  It was so good I got down on my knee and asked, "Dennis, will
you marry me."

This sent the boys into convulsions.  "If I could only find the right lady
to make that offer.  Thanks for the complement, my friend," Dennis replied
with a huge smile.

After dinner, Dennis announced.  Your Dad will be back at 7:00.  Jon, if
you need a ride home before then, I can take you now otherwise it`s going
to be an hour or so."  I shook my head.  "Okay, toss your plates in the
crate!  I have a hot date tonight so you guys are on your own for a while.
No fighting and keep it the fuck down!"

We watched Dennis disappear toward the main house with the load of dirty
dishes.

"Want to see the trampoline?"  Jan asked.

"Hell yes! Lead the way!"  The boy sprinted ahead, up the path and turned
onto a narrow path of lawn that wound to the edge of the finished property.
The Sound was visible but the house and other structures were shielded by
the shrubs and trees that lined the bank.

Jan hopped up on the 16 foot diameter monster of a trampoline and proceeded
to do flips and high jumps.  He was very good.  He did a couple more and
invited me up.  "This must be trampoline etiquette," I thought. He grabbed
my hands to drag me to the center of the ring and we hopped up and down.
He explained how to launch a kid of smaller weight so we bounced in
opposite cadence until I had him launched at least eight feet in the air.

Brad wandered up to bounce around.  We continued to goof off.  And every
ten or fifteen minutes lay on the trampoline to catch our breath.  Brad
disappeared a few times to see if his Dad was home.  Jan was happy with
this: to have his new friend to himself.

When Brad returned after the fourth time he asked, "You wanna spend the
night?  We could sleep right here."

"Yeah! Cool!" Jan reacted, with up raised hands.

"Sure, I don't think my Mom will care."

"I'll be back." Brad said as staggered off to run to the house for
permission from his drunk Mom.

A 30 or 40 foot power boat was passing by beyond the bouyies.  There where
people on the deck, sunning themselves as the evening began to cool.
"Wanna see something funny?"  I shrugged at Jan.

Jan started bouncing up and down again.  The boat came closer.  He turned
facing the path and then faced the back of the trampoline.  He dropped his
shorts, bent over, and mooned the boat.  I cracked up laughing as Jan
looked between his knees at the boat.  I could see the back of his sack and
a hint of what lay between his ass cheeks.  I had never really thought
about that part of my anatomy.  I figured, "When in Rome."  I stepped
beside him and dropped mine.  We jiggled our butts in the air at those rich
bastards.  Crouched together, giggling, Jan asked "B-D'em?"

"I dare you!"

Jan turned around with his shorts at his ankles, placed his hands on his
hips, and started gyrating his hip with a few in out movements.  His little
circumcised penis bounced off his tight little ball sack and flopped around
as he danced.  I slapped him on his ass, "You're a bad boy!"  Jan laughed
and I tackled him.  We fell into a pile both in hysterics.  My shorts were
at my knees and Jan laughed hysterically while trying to keep me from
pulling them up.

I propped up to see where the boat was: it had cleared us and there were a
couple of middle aged women pointing at us as their husbands seemed
indifferent.  My ass was facing them as I stood on my knees and my junk was
facing Jan who sat there taking in the view of my cock.  We were in no
trouble.

"You do that a lot, don't you?"

"Me and Kenny, from down the beach do it all the time!  A few more houses
and they'll see another show!  That's Kenny's house.  Hey, you have a big
dick!"

I looked down and my penis was not boning up but was a little excited.  Jan
flipped himself up and sat Indian style.  His penis was at full mast, not
quite 3 inches and as slim as my index finger.

"What got you up?"  I asked, pointing at his erection.  Jan smiled and
shrugged his shoulders.  "Your all tan- always run around naked?"

"Yeah!"

"Cool!"  I slipped my shorts back up and flopped on my stomach and Jan did
the same.  I was afraid I'd bone up with this beautiful, naked, boy in
front of me.  Jan crawled over to me and plopped down on his back using the
small of my back as a pillow.  We lay there for a few minutes waiting for
Brad to return.

"Ummmm, Dad's home," Brad said as he walked up to us, "He said you need to
go home... Cuz of ...  You need to go home.  I'm sorry Jon.  He said Dennis
will take you in the Jag..."

"Why?" I asked, and then thought to myself: "he saw me and Jan mooning the
boat."

"It's a family thing..."

Jan rose up and sat Indian style to look at his brother.  There was some
unspoken communication between them.  And, I figured it out: their Mom was
fucked up.

The boys escorted me up the garden paths to the garage.  I could feel their
sorrow and shame of the situation.  We stood around bullshitting and Denis
emerged from the house now fully dressed in jeans and a yellow polo shirt.
Against his body, these clothes captured his beauty.  My heart skipped a
beat.

His pale blue eyes locked on me as he approached.  "Hey Jon, are you ready
for a ride to beat all rides?"  I nodded since my tongue was tied.  I had
never really noticed guys that were this old before...  He must be like
twenty!  As handsome as he was, there was something that was also repulsive
about an old guy I couldn't figure out.  I guess it was that I wanted to be
like him but it was something to be.  There was a comfort of being with
somebody who's body was like mine: an inherent condition of being a teen.

I said my goodbyes as Dennis started the brown, Jaguar which seemed to
actually roar through the four exhaust pipes that were mounted dead center
below the rear bumper.

"Give me a hand with the top," Dennis requested as he unlatched the top and
I helped him fold it into it's compartment.  Dennis secured the top and
pointed for me to get in.  The doors latched with a solid thunk compared to
the rattles and shakes of the Buicks.  I was in love with this car.

We backed it out into the sun.  The gauge clusters, wheel, dash, seats,
cockpit, and even the glove box reeked of what could only be called "sex"
in the mind of a car crazed kid...

The design aesthetic aside, unlike any American car I had ever ridden in,
the seats were molded to not only be comfortable, but hold a person in
place for the roller coaster ride that could be ahead.  I knew about the
drive train from my brother's car mags...  Despite all the mechanical and
electrical problems, when this car is tuned by a pro, it is an asphalt
road's nightmare!  So much power when Webber's and tweaks are made that the
engine could generate close to 400 hp!  I was so excited to just sit in the
passenger seat.

"You probably don't know how special this machine is so, ask your Dad or
brother about what a V12 is," Dennis stated.

"Ohhhh...  I know.  This is like, my one of my favorite cars...  It`s a 72`
and I think it`s not stock because it`s all throaty.  I heard the stock
cars are quiet.  And, like, the Jap's copied it for that piece of shit 240Z
just like they copied Austin Healy and all the rest!  I can`t believe I get
to ride in this!"

"Cool kid!  You're all right!  I'm glad you appreciate it cause here we
go!"  And, with that, Dennis hit the accelerator just enough to launch us
out of the car circle without busting the rear wheels loose.  The engine
was so smooth it was like a jet motor: pure, uninterrupted power.

As we drove into the Harbor, I realized that the whole drive in this
machine was designed to keep my mouth shut about Mrs. Carlson.  They
thought I was just one of Brad's dumb little friends.  I knew better.  I
wouldn't say a word, anyway: I wouldn`t want someone saying stuff about my
Mom.  All Brad or his father had to do was ask.  I hated being treated like
a dumb kid.

"I'm gonna get laid tonight!" He told me as we passed Hansen's Drug Store.
I blushed and looked away.  "You have a girl, there, Jon?"

"Well, kinda...  I wish...  Well, no," I couldn't lie, for some reason.

"Yeah, hard to get.  Aren't they?"  He said, as he smiled, peering out the
window.  He was making me very uncomfortable and I could feel the heat
expelling from my cheeks.

"They seem to like Brad and some other guys...  I guess I don't really care
about them yet," I hoped that would shut him up.  I turned to him and he
was smiling as he looked over the long hood of the Jag.

We came to the four way stop before exiting the village and officer Talberg
was sitting in his cruiser.  He eyed Dennis and Dennis gave in a salute
kind of waive.  Talberg shook his finger back as a warning.

The speed limit was 25 MPH through the village and just 100 yard past the
sign was the county road: 45 MPH.  I knew what was coming and braced
myself.  When we hit the 45 MPH sign, Dennis down shifted and pounded the
peddle to the floor.  The rear wheels screeched and he had to steer through
the power as the car zipped up to 60 before he shifted through a few gears
and we were zooming along at 120 in what seemed like a second or two.  He
slammed on the breaks and down shifted as we came into a hair pin turn at
the end of the road.  Once at a manageable speed, Dennis turned to me and
smiled, "Mr. Carlson has great tastes in the classics he collects...  This
damn thing was a classic after it rolled off the assembly line!  Fucking
"A" I love diving this beast!"  He yelled over the wind and growl of the
engine.

I was laughing along with this roller coaster ride. The rawness and danger
of this experience was pulsing through my stomach like waves on the bay
during a storm.

"That was fucking awwwesoooooommmmme!  Can we do it again???
PLEASE!!!!???"

"Nawh, Jon.  With my luck, I'd rear end some house wife!  Hey, you haven`t
seen the best part!"  He took a right off the road, into the drive of the
Homestead Cemetery where Billy's ancestors were buried.  I guess he would
end up there to.  Billy's family were the white people that conned the
local Natives out of the entire Peninsula of the Puget Sound.  As time went
on, Billy's family kept selling off huge hunks of land to stay afloat.

There was no parking lot at the top of the bluff: just a grassy clearing.
The little hard pack, dirt, road petered out in a field that was mowed,
once in a while, by Billy's uncle who lived clear on the other side of the
Peninsula...  It was his only job.

Dennis parked, killed the engine and hopped out after releasing the latch
for the hood.  He raised the massive nose from the car and my mouth
dropped.  Four carburetors mounted above the slender 12 cylinder engine.
This car was sex on wheels.  This car was the only thing compatible, in my
twelve year old mind, to the stuff me, Chris, and Jon were doing as we
shared our bodies.  I could feel the heat raise from under there and smell
the warm rubber of the belts, hoses and the distinct odor of fresh paint
curing from the polished maze of engine parts.  Sex!

Dennis gave me a playful shove, "Don't fall in there, you might get
burned...  I gotta piss like a race horse!"  He took a few steps over to an
eroding granite grave stone and struggled with the buttons of his jeans.

I kind of had to go, as well.  I stepped up beside him and dropped the
front of my gym shorts.  I only intended to glance at him but my jaw
dropped harder then when the hood went up on the Jag!  I stared at his
monster, adult cock that hung out the fly of his baby blue boxers.  There
was a huge vain that's blueness stood out even against his tan body.  Brad
wasn't kidding, they all swam in the buff.  His cock was truly that: not
some little boy worm, at least five inches soft as his stream exited the
huge head, it made mine look like a pencil versus a steel pipe.  I'd seen
my brother and Dad naked but their's looked nothing like this.  My eyes
couldn't turn away.  He shook off and adjusted himself back into his loose
baby blues.  Then he slowly buttoned up his Levis.

"Hey, Jon."  I felt the warmth of his hand on my left shoulder.  My eyes
were still fixed on the crotch of his jeans.  "Jon, it's okay."  My eyes
moved to his face, "I know something about you.  It's okay."  I never
started to piss and when I looked down, my dick was at full erection yet, I
didn't even feel it's tingle and pulse.  I was disconnected and blank.
There was not emotion in my body.  I was hard as a rock but it wasn't like
with Chris and Jon: with them, all my senses were in high gear, I could
hear and feel my heart pounding, I could smell us, my stomach was all
twisted up, and I shivered with anticipation of their touch.  It was like I
was outside of myself watching Dennis reach for my shaft.

"I watched the way you looked at the boys during dinner...  The way you
looked at me at the park...It's okay...  I like you too...  I like you a
lot...  More than you know or even understand."  His hand was massaging my
cock and then he cupped my balls.  "I want you to stop me, if you don't
want me to do this...  Okay, Jon?  Okay?"

I blankly nodded my head.

He stepped into me and whispered in my ear, "I'm going to give you a
gift...  Something most boys never experience until their men...  Married.
And, have to pay some hooker because their bitch wives won't do this."

He sunk to his knees and I could feel his hands pull my shorts down to my
ankles and then rub their way up my legs to my butt cheeks.  He rubbed them
with the palms of his hands: up and down, up and down.  Then he brought his
fingers to my flesh.  My eyes focused on the grave stones and massive fir
trees that lined the cemetery.  I felt his lips kiss at my hip beside my
stuff and then felt his nose rub between my shaft and ball sack.  Then his
lips contacted my ball sack as he pushed his face into my junk.  He inhaled
so deeply I could feel the stream of air pass my testicles, "Oh, God, I
haven't had this in so long... So perfect...  So young and perfect," He
whispered.  He took my penis in his mouth.  Everything seemed in slow
motion, as if my mind were a volume dial turned down to barely audible.
There were so many grave stones up here...  His piss was drying on the hot
brown granite of Billy`s dead Great Grandfather.  I could see the stain
getting smaller as the hot rock baked it away.

His mouth was full of saliva and he barely gave me any suction, at first.
He began to move his head slowly up and down my shaft.  I stood frozen.  I
swung my head up to the sky and moaned as my heart and lungs began
hyperactivity as the sensation of suction and the grip of his tongue worked
their way through my haze.

His hands began to kneed at my butt cheeks and pull at them as my stomach
muscles began to contract to move my hips.  He pushed me into him to stop
my movements and held me tight for a few seconds as he just applied suction
with no movement.  I was so used to getting on with it and being done, as
fast as possible, to reap the reward.  This was new.

He began to move his head on me again with a steady motion.  After what was
probably thirty seconds my hips began to move and Dennis matched my strokes
with increased suction as my body and mind focused on the building charge
at the head of my penis.  His suction magically increased with each of my
thrusts.  Then a couple of fingers were swirling at my anus.  He only
applied a bit of pressure and massaged around my hole as his head bobbed...
My mind couldn't keep all the sensations clear: suction, movement, sliding
tongue, massage of my hole, kneading of my cheeks, pounding of my hips, and
racing heart.  All were overwhelmed when the charge at the tip of my dick
went into overload and for the first time, I recognized, that my anus
convulsed as I came!  I could feel it clench and release as my cum left my
body and shot from my cock.  His fingers held still as the convulsion
pulsed around them.  He sucked harder as I came!  He sucked on me like I
was a straw in a milk shake: drinking every drop while timing the pulse!
Dennis had definitely done this before!

During these sensations I had grabbed his hair and I was now almost balled
up over the top of him.  Dennis held me by wrapping his left arm around my
thighs, just under my ass, to help support me.  Dennis had buckled my
knees.  The volume dial was slowly turning up, as the spinning sensation of
the orgasm faded.  I noticed that his frazzled hair was soft and not
brittle.

My semi-flaccid cock popped from his mouth as we began to untangle.

"Jesus Christ kid, you almost woke all the dead fucks!  Thank God I didn't
break down and blow you at the house... I'd lost my fucking job."  I didn't
remember screaming when I came.  I said nothing and looked over at the
fifty or sixty grave stones that now seemed to be surrounding me.

I felt him pull my gym shorts back up.  The feel of the elastic band expand
over my ass woke me up even more.  The feeling of somebody else dressing me
was frustrating and uncomfortable.  Clothes never feel right when adjusted
by another.  I reached down , as I stepped away and rotated the waist band
until it was right.

"Jon?  Are you okay?  JON?

"Yeah...  I just...  Why'd you do that?"

"You didn't like it?"  I nodded.  "Then what's the problem...  Isn't that
what you wanted?"  I shrugged my shoulders because I honestly didn't know.
And, if I were to speak, I thought I'd cry.  Men do not cry.

"Look, I'm sorry...  I thought... Jon, please don't tell anyone... Look,
I'll give you fifty bucks.  I thought you were...  It's been ..."

"Dennis, just shut up," I said with a raspy voice, "I gotta piss," I
stepped away from him and walked a few grave stones deep.  I took my cock
out and noticed it was slightly pink from his suction and there was still a
little of his saliva in the crease between the head and foreskin that
hadn't dried.

My stream rained down on Torgun Gunderson's stone.  She died on April 14,
1953....  "Just in time to beat paying taxes," I could hear my Dad joke in
my head.  I smiled.

I walked back to the car.  Dennis was standing at the drivers door washing
his hands with a towelett he must have had stashed in the car.  Who carries
around moist toweletts?  As he tossed it into the grass, he looked up at me
and I could see he was frightened.  "Jon..." He began.

"I liked it.  I just never expected...  I just want to go home."

"Okay.  Ummm.  I'm sorry?  I guess," Dennis said, half hearted.

He leaned into the convertible and fired the engine up with its growl.  We
climbed in.  Dennis kept the RPM's low and we drove no more then 20 MPH as
we entered Bay road that lead the way to the Island.  He'd glance at me
which made me feel creepy.  He was an adult.

I thought of what he said: "I know something about you; I watched the way
you looked at the boys during dinner.  The way you looked at me at the
park...It's okay...  I like you too; I like you a lot; and I'm going to
give you a gift."  He knew, before he even had my shorts down: before we
were in the car.  There was no risk for him!  He knew!  He was smiling out
the windshield, when I told him I didn't have a girl... He FUCKING knew!
And then, I figured out who would carry those damn toweletts: a queer!  He
was ready for me!  My heart went from the gutter to racing and back to the
depression of the gutter as the heaviness fell on me.

"Look," Dennis said, as he pulled off into the boat launch parking near the
end of the bridge to try to talk with me, before dropping me home, "Are you
okay with this?  I need to know...  I'd never hurt you...  You know that,
right?

"It was just new.  Just...  I want to go home.  I'll walk from here, okay?"
I said, as I opened the car door to step out.

"Sure," He grabbed my hand and put three twenties in there.  "Please, don't
tell...  Nobody will fucking believe you anyway.  I'll just deny it and all
your little friends will run around calling you queer.  Look, you're a cool
kid.  Just, be cool about this.  Okay?"

"I won't say a word... Just don't fucking touch me ever again YOU MOTHER
FUCKING FAGGOT!!!" I yelled and threw the money in his face.  Before he
could respond, I turned and ran down to the beach to ditch that prick.  I
never looked back.  I ran at full speed the couple hundred yards to the
stairs of our bulkhead where I tripped on a rock and fell into the sand.  I
was hyperventilating and crying but, not from the impact with the ground.
I glanced up, into our property, to make sure I was not seen by my family
and then shuffled up the stairs to hide below one of Dad's apple trees that
draped over some of his crazy landscape.

My mind raced with the experience of Dennis, as I began to blame myself: I
couldn't resist seeing his cock, I had to go stand next to him, I went rock
hard without even feeling it, and when he placed his hand on my shoulder
and said he knew me, my mind went blank.  I wanted nothing more than to see
the rest of him.  That was my only motive... Or, maybe not.

He used me...  He fucking used me the way Brad said they used fags at his
school: only he wanted my cock...  The way he whispered "So young so
perfect" while he inhaled at my crotch.  I'd been in control of my body, in
all of my sexual situations over the past few months: I initiated
everything or with Jon was comfortable to participate when given the tap.

And, then the crux of it sank in: Dennis knew that I'm a faggot.  If he
knew, others did as well.  My tears increased to an uncontrollable stream
as I fought off audible sobs and hiccups.  If the guys found out... If my
Dad found out...

My mind raced to Chris's Mom's hesitation, when my voice cracked on the
phone; my Mom's stare at my nakedness; Chris's insights into all of those
people; and why the hell would Brad tell me about that crap in the dorms?
Did they all know?

Due to the shear mechanical nature of sex with Jon, was I his "dish rag?"

Before I was able to process this, I realized I was no better then Dennis:
my lust for Brad and now Jan, and what had I done to Chris in the field!  I
almost wailed with despair but, managed to keep it to whimpers.  Did Chris
go home and cry like this after I was through with him?  Had I hurt my
little buddy who I fell head over heals in love with?  Did I force him?

Then, the Lutheran bullshit set in of Christ...  What had I done?  Could
this be such a sin not worthy of forgiveness?  Would God go Old Testament
on my ass?  I was having sex!  With the same sex!

My almost 13 year old brain kicked in and the volume of my adult, mental,
arguments faded away as denial and justification set in from a kids
perspective: "Men don't cry, buck up, you got yours, Dennis really knows
how to suck a cock, they can't all know, and fuck all of them, if they do."
After a few minutes, I stopped crying and made it through the basement door
to wash my face before strolling upstairs to tell my tale of the rich
Carlson family to Mom.  Dad sat in his chair reading the paper, drinking
his evening vodka on the rocks, and smoking his Kent cigarettes.  I knew he
was listening.  Of course, I left out all of the confidential stuff and
embellished the grandeur of their garden to get my Dad's attention.  I
loved to rattle his cage.

As I tried to sleep that night, Dennis would pop in and I'd punch my
mattress with all my might trying to force him from my mind.  I had to
focus on Chris...Chris was on my mind, when I fell asleep that night.

Latter in life, I realized what Dennis was and I will never forgive him.