Date: Sun, 03 Feb 2002 23:33:02 -0500 From: Chad M. Subject: Justin's Boyhood Chapter 8 JUSTIN'S BOYHOOD by Chad Author's Note: This story contains descriptions of sexual acts between minors. If you don't like this, don't read it. The characters and events are purely from the imagination of the author, and in no way represent any actual persons or events. Any similarity is purely coincidental. IF YOU HAVE NOT READ THE FIRST SEVEN CHAPTERS, PLEASE GO BACK AND READ THOSE FIRST! ======================================== Chapter Eight MATT'S ROOM Daylight has a way of making things that looked good in the dark seem really ugly. I had gone to bed the night before with pleasant thoughts. Thoughts about Brian, and the pleasure he had given me. And the pleasure I had given him. But as I awoke to face another day, all of this seemed--to put it in Brian's term--nasty. Was it wrong what I did with Brian? Had I taken advantage of a little kid? My best friend! It was his idea after all, but was I wrong to go along with it? I didn't feel like I could face Brian that day. For that matter, I couldn't face , either. Matt was the one who started the whole thing, with his graphic description of jacking off. Fortunately, when I got to the bus stop that morning, Matt wasn't there. I presumed he was sick that day. School passed by slowly, and I tried to blend into the background. For the first two periods of the day, I hardly spoke. However, just before third period, Matt showed up at school, face flushed and perspiring. I walked by him in the hallway just in time to see him put his skateboard in his locker. Turns out he had overslept, missed the bus, and rode his skateboard to school. Just then, Devin, Matt's little red-haired buddy, spotted Matt. "Hey Matt, where the hell you been?" Devin asked. "Where do you think?" Matt replied. "I been with Carly again...this time all the way!" "No way! Dude, no wonder you're sweating like a pig! Wait till the other guys hear this!" With that, Devin high-fived Matt and hurried off on his way. Matt put on the sly grin of his, and suddenly noticed me listening to him. I panicked a little bit, but then Matt winked at me and I relaxed. "See you after school, Justin!" Matt said. As he walked away, I smiled. Matt was actually looking forward to seeing me! Woo-hoo! I was in a better mood the rest of the day at school. At lunch, I glanced over to Matt's table. He was surrounded by his usual circle of friends, who were wide-eyed and open- mouthed as Matt apparently was telling them about his latest conquest. I laughed softly as I finished my pizza. After school, Matt got on the bus carrying his skateboard. None of his friends asked him how or why he had his board. I guess that would have spoiled his wild stories, and people do seem to believe what they want to believe. I sat quietly on the bus, listening to Matt and Danny chatter about some stupid stuff. I was disappointed, but not surprised, that Matt basically ignored me the entire ride home. When the bus came to my stop, I stepped off quickly and started walking ahead of the other kids. Before I turned the corner to my street, I thought of Brian again. I just didn't feel like I could face him, and I wondered how I might avoid seeing him today. "Hey, wait up!" I heard from behind, accompanied by the sound of skateboard wheels grinding pavement. Matt caught up with me. "Whatcha doing?" "Walking," I answered without emotion. "I mean later...this afternoon, shithead!" he said with a smile on his face. Even being called shithead sounded like a compliment from Matt. "I don't know. Nothing, I guess." "Want to hang out for a while? And skate?" he asked. "I don't know how to skateboard," I said. "I'll show you. Hop on!" I took my backpack off and put it on the ground. I put a foot on his board, and then--very slowly-- stepped up with the other foot. The board rocked under me, and Matt grabbed me before I fell on the pavement. "Here, let me show you how to place your feet," Matt said. So my first skateboarding lesson began. I tried several times, but I just couldn't manage to keep one foot on the board, and push with the other. A couple of times I lost my balance, but every time Matt was there to save me from getting hurt. Matt seemed to put his arms almost completely around me every time he "caught" me, a lot like a mother would hold a little kid. I found that I really liked it. The contact felt, well, really good. It made me a bit nervous, but I didn't want him to stop doing it. "OK, just stand on the board and let me pull you," Matt suggested. He grabbed my wrist and gently tugged. I rolled along behind him. We must have looked like a toddler with a pull toy! His hand, wrapped around my wrist, felt soft and warm, and just a bit sweaty. His hand slipped, and suddenly I found he was holding me by my hand! I started to panic, because it was causing a little stir in my pants! I glanced around to see if any of the others kids could see us, no one was in sight. Matt, however, didn't seem to be concerned that he was holding my hand in broad daylight! Suddenly I noticed that we were in front of Matt's house. I was so wrapped up, I hadn't realized that Matt had dragged me down his street. We stopped, and he released my hand. Looking me in the eyes and flashing that famous grin, Matt said "You wanna come in for a Coke?" I hesitated before I answered. I felt as if I stood on a threshold, of sorts. Of all my peers, Matt was the one boy that was everything I wished I could be. He was athletic, which I wasn't. He was popular, which I certainly wasn't. He had a personality that people seemed to fall in love with, which I didn't seem to have. And he was certainly good- looking. Good-looking. I had never really thought about that before, but as I stood in front of his him, looking into his green eyes, his bright white teeth showing through his sly smile, it dawned on me just how damned good-looking he was. In the two years since I had known Matt, (he moved into the neighborhood in 5th grade), I had never spent no more than a few minutes with him. He had his circle of friends, and that circle didn't extend so far as to include me. Not that we were enemies, we just never had really "hooked up." "You coming?" Matt asked, jerking me back into reality. I didn't answer, but followed him in the door. After more than two years, Matt was making the first move toward a possible friendship. I felt a little out of my element, but I was going to let fate decide the outcome. "Mom is going to kill you, Matt!" a female voice shouted from another room. As we made out way to the kitchen, an older teenage girl came into view -- Matt's sister I presumed. The family resemblance was obvious. She looked a lot like an older version of Matt--the same green eyes, the light brown hair, and the tan complexion. She was a little taller than Matt, and aside from the angry grimace on her face, was as gorgeous as Matt. "The school called and asked why you weren't there!" she continued. "I told them you were sick. I lied for you, you little snot!" "Great! Thanks!" Matt said, grabbing a couple of cold cans from the fridge. "You owe me big time for this, or I'm telling Mom!" Before she finished talking, Matt had propelled me into his room and closed the door. "Is that your sister? She's pretty!" I said. "Yeah, that's Rachel. She's 19 and a pain in the ass most of the time." "Does she go to school?" "She goes to the junior college," Matt said. "Her classes at a different times, so sometimes she is here during the day." I looked around Matt's room. There were pictures of skateboarders, carefully torn from magazines, stuck on the wall with straight pins. Various dirty and clean clothes -- I couldn't tell which -- littered his floor. He had a small color TV, a spacey-looking boom box, and a computer on his desk. I liked his room--it reflected his personality so well. "You don't talk very much, do you?" Matt said. It was more a statement than a question. "No, I'm kinda quiet, I guess. There are plenty of others around who do more than their share of talking." Matt smiled at me. "Do you mean me?" I smiled back. "I didn't say you!" "I guess maybe I talk too much sometimes." He pulled the comforter over his unmade bed, and sat on it, leaning against the headboard. "I just have a lot on my mind and have to let it out sometimes." "Yeah, that's cool." Matt noticed I was still standing. He pulled off his sneakers, and drew his legs up and sat Indian-style. He smoothed out the comforter near the foot of the twin bed, and patted it once with his hand. "Sit down if you want," he said. Following his lead, I pulled my Nikes off, and sat on the bed, facing him. With the ice broken, we chatted for a bit while we downed our Cokes. Our conversation was pretty general--like who the nice teachers were, who the assholes were--things of that nature. For the first time, I began to feel comfortable around Matt. I was finally his equal. For a while, I forgot all about Brian. As I sat there on that bed, I made almost constant contact with those green eyes of his. I was nothing less than enchanted. And his welcoming smile was melting my heart. I was starting to feel something for Matt--a strange, but deep feeling unfamiliar to me. My digital watch beeped. It was 5 o'clock. "I'd better go, Matt, so I can beat my mom home," I said with some regret. "Yeah, I'm getting hungry. I need to scrape up some food in the kitchen." I looked at him questioningly, and he continued, "My dad doesn't live with us, and my mom doesn't get home till late, so I usually have to make my own dinner." "Oh," I said. "Maybe you can come to our house for dinner sometime." "Cool!" he said. "Lemme know." "OK." I got up from the bed and threw my empty can in his trash. "How come I hardly ever see you around the neighborhood?" he asked. "I'm around. You're just always with Dale, so you don't notice." He looked down. "I don't hang out with Dale too much anymore." When did things change? Overnight? It seemed that whenever I was out and around, Matt and Dale were always together, like that day out in the playhouse. "Did Dale piss you off or something?" I inquired. "Sorry for being nosy." "Naah. He just doesn't want to..." he paused. "...he don't always want to do the same stuff I like to do. With him it's sports, sports, sports. I like to...do other stuff sometimes." If there were any hidden meanings to that, it didn't dawn on me at the time. I started for his door. "Hold up a second," he said, grabbing a felt pen. "Give me your arm." He took my hand in his to steady my arm, and started writing something on my arm. "Here's my phone number," he said. "Call me up whenever." Now I was nervous again. I managed a feeble "OK" and headed to the front door, Matt following me to see me out. Stupid me, I didn't even think to give him my number. "Bye, Justin. Thanks for coming over!" he said, flashing me that blasted sly grin one more time. The pleasure was all mine, I thought. I arrived home just minutes before my mom pulled up. She asked me about the ink on my arm. "A friend from school wrote it," was all the explanation I volunteered. "Wash it off before dinner," she said. She is funny about those kind of things. Quickly, I copied his number into my little phone book, and went into the bathroom. Before I applied the soap and water, I stared at the handwriting, and ran my finger softly over the numbers. It was hard for me to wash it off. I didn't see or hear from Brian that day. It was so late by the time I got home, he was probably already in the house for the night. And Brian wasn't much for phone calls. As I lie in bed that night, the guilty feelings I had earlier in the day had mostly dissipated. I was feeling good about things. My afternoon with Matt had turned me around. I reached down under the covers to find something had become hard. I pulled it through the opening in my boxers, and in the darkness, gently caressed the head. It began to feel good and tingly, and caressing became stroking. I closed my eyes to shut out any distractions, and continued. I thought about--no, pretended--that is was Matt who was doing the stroking. In my mind's eye I saw Matt, his green eyes, his wonderful smile. Much sooner than I would have expected, my fantasy was interrupted by a warm flow of liquid. "Matt," I whispered in the dark. Oh shit, I thought, what was I doing? TO BE CONTINUED +++++++ Justin's adventures are far from over. Just like it real life, some things take time to unfold to their natural conclusion. Stay tuned. If you would like to send a comment or suggestion, please drop me a line at chadtales@hotmail.com.