Date: Tue, 09 Mar 2010 10:48:40 -0500 From: thorin@hushmail.com Subject: Sorry! ******************************************************* *Disclaimer - This is strictly fiction. As there is * * no explicit sex in the story, it should * * safe for everyone. * ******************************************************* *Author's note - A year or two ago, a story appeared * * in Nifty that used a game called "Stripping * * Sorry! as a vehicle. I have long since forgotten * * the title and author. I borrowed that idea as an * * element for this story. I am indebted to that * * author for this story. * ******************************************************* I'm at the point I call "C2;" critical point number 2. If my plan is going to work, what happens in the next few seconds has to go my way. I've done all I can to get things here. Now, at C2, whatever Shaun decides determines whether or not my plan moves forward. He looks at me with a combination of frustration, confusion, and suspicion. Jared stands beside him, awaiting his decision. Jared, being only 11, will go along with whatever Shaun decides, so I keep my attention on Shaun. Shaun is my best friend and has been for years. We are next door neighbors and have been together since we were both old enough to play outside on our own. We share everything and know everything about each other. I can tell you what he is thinking, what he likes, what drives him nuts. I know all of his moods. I've seen him at his best and at his worst. And he knows everything about me. Everything, that is, except one thing, and I've only recently discovered that, myself. I'm gay. Or, at least I think I'm gay. Well...pretty sure, really. I mean, how does anyone really know something like this for sure! I've been confused about it for a while; still am, I guess. Finally I've just decided not to worry about it. Instead, I'll just let it be whatever it ends up to be. What I do know is how I feel about Shaun, or, how I feel now. It's changed. Well, maybe not changed, maybe just grown more complex. He and I have always been close and I've never felt really complete without him, but lately I find that he drives me wild. I mean, I have these fantasies whenever I'm around him, and when I'm not around him, too. I imagine myself ripping off his clothes and ravaging his naked body. I dream of doing things to him like...well....let's not talk about that! But, it's more than that. At the same time, I love to be around him, love it when he smiles at me, love it when he worries about me, love it when...well...I don't know, I think I just love him! Copper! Shaun is copper. He looks copper, smells copper and even tastes copper. How do I know that, that he tastes copper? Well...I licked him; licked his arm I mean. We like to wrestle around a lot, and, when he gets sweaty, he smells like copper. So, one day, I don't know what got into me, but I just did it. We were all tangled up, laughing and all, and his arm was right there in front of me, so, I...I just took a taste. And, I was right, he tastes just like he smells. He pulled his arm back and looked at me strange. "What did you just do?" "I don't know," was my reply, which was stupid, when you think about it, because I knew what I just did; I licked him. I tried to laugh about it and gave him a small shove. "You are so weird, sometimes," was his comeback, and that meant everything was OK, because he's always saying that about me. His hair is red, but a deep, dark red, almost brown. In fact, it's really only in the sun that you see that it's red. His skin is the color of a new penny, but not shiny. It's pretty much that way all over, except at the top of his thighs, were it turns the color of cream. I'm sure that creamy color is the same all over his...you know...down there. His eyes are dark brown and he has these freckles across his nose that I think are sexy as shit. I sometimes wonder if he has freckles on his...umm...forget about that part. Shaun is the quiet one; me, well, people say I talk for both of us. When we were little and playing together, I bet you I said 50 words for every one of his. So, when Shaun does talk, it means he has something to say. Shaun's also pretty easy going, and, unless, he feels strongly about something, he's quite content to let me lead. But, it's funny how those things come together in Shaun. It gives him a real air of confidence, and, as a result, Shaun tends to be a kid that others really listen to, someone they're quite ready to follow. We are both 13, except he's half a year older. I just turned 13. Today is my birthday. I hold a Sorry! game in my hands, clutching it against my chest, almost like a shield. Shaun stares at me. Jared shifts nervously. "Dude, you just got a fuckin' brand new X-box 360 and you wanna play that old grandpa game?" His voice is hard and it hurts just a little bit. "Com'on Shaun, it'll it be fun. Just one game," I argue. If I have to, I'll pull out my trump card, the fact that it's my birthday, but I don't want to do that. That almost seems whiney. The silence lingers as he continues to stare at me. "You are so weird sometimes, Austin, I swear," and he shakes his head to emphasize it. I breathe a silent sigh; C2, success! C1 was getting my parents drunk and in bed. Well, that's not fair, they're not drunk; but, one beer for my dad and one glass of wine for my mom and they're out for the night. Their up in the bedroom and I'm sure we won't see them until morning. They probably did some disgusting stuff before dropping off. Sometimes I'll be in my room ready for a real good...you know, and then I think about them and what they're probably doing and I just go all soft. Parents can be disgusting some times. Anyway, getting them to have a drink was pretty easy; it was my birthday! C1, success! Jared, Shaun, and I settle in on the family room floor and I break out the game board, pieces, and cards. Shaun's suspicion radar is still fixed on me. He knows I'm up to something, but hasn't figured it out, yet. He knows I spend my idle time dreaming of elaborate plots and schemes, most of which are laughably stupid. But, every once in a while I come up with a good one and he's always willing to help with those. The two of us can really get our teachers pretty flipped out at times. The deal for my birthday was, I could either have a party at a local amusement park and smaller presents, or just have a friend or two over for the night and bigger presents. That's why a brand new X-box waits to be plugged into the flat screen on the wall, and why Jared and Shaun sit around the game board. Shaun wasn't surprised by my choice; he knows I can be a greedy bastard at times, but he is surprised that I invited Jared to be here. I mean, Jared's kind of a kid, compared to Shaun and me. We don't mind him hanging around sometimes; he can be loads of laughs and he's real adventurous, but I'm sure Shaun expected it would be just him and me. Actually, Jared is a critical part of C3. Then I start to explain the rules. "We've all played before, dork wad!" Shaun exclaims, and Jared laughs. When we were younger and still liked to hang around with the rents, we'd sometime break out the Sorry! game and play, but it's probably been 3 or 4 years since that happened. I've anticipated that reaction and continue on with a bit of exaggerated patience to let Shaun know I'm annoyed. I rush through the part they all know and get to the variation I'm going to introduce. They both listen in astonishment as I go into it. I've reached the next critical point, C3, and the reason I've invited Jared to spend the night. Not only is Jared pretty adventurous, he's also a bit of a horn-dog. In fact, more than just a bit. He and I have been doing a bit of goofing around recently; nothing serious, just a bit of show-and-tell. My little adjustment to the game is one I'm sure he's going to love. I need him to get excited about it to help bring Shaun around. Jared is red-faced and giggling. He's really pretty cute when he blushes. In fact, pretty cute is a good way to describe Jared overall. Jared is what I consider a classic blond. The color of his skin is pretty close to the color of his hair, all matched with pale blue eyes and soft pink lips. He is a bit on the thin side, but rock solid. All-in-all, he's built like a typical, athletic, pre-teen boy. Shaun looks at me first in surprise, then quizzically. I can see he's starting to catch on. I mean, part of the plan is now obvious, but he's still not sure where I might be taking things. Finally, a smile breaks out on his face and the game is on. C3, success! Sorry! is a game that starts slowly. It usually takes a while for the first men to come out of the start area and appear on the outer track, but once it gets going, the game picks up. So, we're about 10 minutes into it, when the first man gets sent home. I pull a Sorry! card from the deck and, without hesitation, send one of Jared's men back to the start. Then Shaun and I both watch with pleasure as Jared strips off his t-shirt and tosses it onto the couch. And thus the game continues, each of us sending other players' pieces home and enjoying watching the others strip. It's about 20 minutes later when we reach C4, the fourth critical point. This is the last one, but also the big one. My mouth is dry. I'm up on my knees, bouncing a bit with anticipation, watching each card as it comes into play, doing all I can to influence how Jared and Shaun play. Shaun and I are naked. It's been years since I've seen him this way, probably since we were 7 or 8. His body is beautiful; better even than what I've seen in my fantasies. I'm working hard not to stare, working hard to steal glimpses, and working hard to keep my head in the game. I'm also working real hard to stay soft. I love the way the creamy color of his groin blends with the more coppery color of his belly and legs. I'm also interested to see that he has a few dark hairs, no more than a dozen. I haven't any, yet. He sits cross-legged on the floor to my right, unconcerned about his nudity and studying the game. Jared still has his underwear on, a pair of skimpy red briefs. It's Jared's turn to draw. I've been playing a sloppy game, and playing sloppy on purpose. I continue to leave men close to my opponents' homes and on slides, making myself the most likely target for being sent home. Jared reaches forward and takes the next card off the deck. As he looks to see what it is, a huge smile breaks across his face. He drops it proudly on the board, showing us a Sorry! and wiggles his hips in a celebratory dance, his arms raised above his head. Then he studies the board to see who he should send home. He looks back and forth between Shaun and me, hoping one of us will beg. If he knew Shaun like I do, he wouldn't waste his time. Shaun would never show weakness in a time like this. If anyone would beg in this situation, it would be me. But, to their surprise, I would beg to be chosen, to be the one that Jared picks to send home. Instead, I sit quietly, just like Shaun, waiting to see what Jared will do. He continues to look back-and-forth between us before his eyes finally settle on me. I want to jump for joy, but I continue to hold still as he slowly reaches out, watching me the whole time, and takes one of his men from start and replaces one of my men on the board. Then, as he moves my man back to my start area, his look turns to confusion. All my clothes lie in a pile behind me; there is nothing left for me to strip off! He's not sure what will come next. About 30 seconds later, I pull back away from Jared, my eyes still on him, but watching Shaun intently out of the corner of my eye. Jared's face is flushed, his eyes glazed. A small bead of sweat has appeared above his top lip. His smile looks goofy, almost as if it's pasted on sideways. And, the hand that just moments before held the front of his briefs down, now clenches them tightly to his stomach, the knuckles white from effort. Shaun's eyes are wide, his mouth agape. He almost looks pale. It's clear that he can't believe what he's seen. His hands lie slack on his thighs. Here we are, C4, it's now all up to Shaun. I turn and meet his stare. He's been trying to figure out all night where this was going. He knew I was scheming, but hadn't been able to figure it out. Now it is all revealed. I give him a small smile and wait. "Fuckin ay, Austin!!" is how he begins. Then he repeats it, but more slowly, "Fuckin, ay!!" The moment lingers, and then he breaks into a grin. "So, what does the winner get?" C4, success! I take a moment and explain the rest of the game. Shaun and Jared listen in rapt attention, turning to look at each other occasionally, grinning broadly. Then we begin again; but, this time we play in real earnest. The pace of the game picks up. Each of us urge the others to play quickly; grab a card, make your move, next person's turn. We begin to argue moves and, more than once, the rules on the inside lid of the game box are consulted to resolve disputes. We double count to make sure that pieces land where they should. We look for loop holes to take advantage of. Alliances are formed and dissolved. The game rushes toward conclusion; each of us determined to win. About an hour later, the living room is littered with the results of the game. The game board lays half under the couch where it was kicked by a leg in spasm. Cards and game pieces are scattered about the floor. Our clothes are nowhere to be seen, except for Jared's shirt which was used to wipe up the remains of Shaun and my ecstasy. (It seemed fair to use Jared's shirt, because, first, he didn't win, and second, being the only boy in his family, we don't think his mother will figure out the crusty stains.) The three of us lay side-by-side, nude, on the family room floor. Shaun is next to me; Jared on the other side of him. They both lay on their backs. Jared with his eyes closed; Shaun staring at the ceiling. I lay on my side, facing them; ogling the naked boy flesh that lies there so casually. It's my birthday; I'm allowed! Over the course of the evening I've had the chance to study every inch of their bodies. I've seen them from every angle. I've looked at places that even they haven't seen. And, I've touched, smelled, and tasted, as well. Jared idly fingers himself, the way a younger boy will. No self- control. His thin muscular body reminds me of a ferret. His body is a soft golden yellow that varies little from the top of his head to the bottom of his feet. It was amazing the way he could stretch and bend; contorting his body into positions no one could imagine, able to get to places and to expose himself in miraculous ways. That, plus the things he suggested, amazed both Shaun and me. The kid clearly spends too much unsupervised time on the Internet! I laugh to myself remembering the noises he made and the way he thrashed about. Several times Jared seemed to be having seizures. His body convulsed, his face was frozen, his eyes wide open, and a startling array of small animal noises punctuated a long stream of "Oh fucks!!!" But it is Shaun that really draws my attention. I love the color of his skin and the way it is accentuated by his freckles. I love the way it changes from coppery yellow, to creamy white, and back again as one looks down his chest, past his groin, and to his legs. He is about average height for a boy our age, but well muscled, almost thick. His abs and his pecs are well defined. His arms are covered in soft, golden fuzz. His nipples are a rich, chocolate brown, and they stand erect in the cool breath of the air conditioner. In fact, as I watch, I can see his sparse pubic hairs flutter in the breeze. I notice for the first time that something on the floor is digging into my thigh. I reach down and pull out one of the men from the Sorry! game. It's red; one of mine. I chose red because it is the color of my heart. I imagined that every time Shaun touched one of my men, he was touching my heart. I play with it in my hand; rolling it around in my fingers. At the same time, I think of my dad and a recent conversation that we had. He asked to talk to me, and what he wanted to talk to me about was sex. Geez!!! Every boy's nightmare! What kid wants to sit there while a parent fidgets about uneasily and stutters on about that most embarrassing and glorious subject, using words that no one uses, like "erection," "penis," and "vagina," instead real words like, "hard-on," "prick," and "pussy." But, then he surprised me; he didn't want to talk about the mechanics of sex, he wanted to talk about the emotions that go along with it. I actually found it interesting. Of course, I had to play my role. I pretended to be bored; I acted distracted, but, really, I listened closely. And, I was surprised at how much he knew. One thing he told me was that I should never use people sexually. He talked about how sex and feelings for a person can't be separated, about how there's no such thing as casual sex. I remember that and I look at Jared. Is that what I just did? I mean, I like Jared, and I enjoy that he's so willing to goof around, but...I mean...Really! Would I have invited him this evening were it not for the fact that I thought he would help me get to Shaun? As I think about it, I think there's something to what my dad was saying, but I'm not so sure that my dad is completely right. I mean, it may be that way a lot of time, but Jared just seems to like sex for sex. He seems to enjoy the thrill of being bad as well as just the wonderful, mind-blowing sensations. He seems to get a lot pleasure from it and isn't looking for more than that. Jared doesn't want to cuddle afterward and share feelings. When we're done, it's zip-up the pants and let's go play catch. And, to be honest, that's fine with me as well. But, then I look at Shaun. God, he's so beautiful! I mean, he drives me wild. We'll be in class at school, he'll be sitting in front of me, and...I mean, really, look at a map of 18th century Europe??? I'd much rather look at the back of Shaun's neck. I love the way it's shaped; I love the way the hair falls down toward his shoulders; I love the freckles that are dotted across it. I dream of peeling off his shirt, of running my hands across his back, over his shoulders, and down his chest, of pulling him close to me. I dream of waking up in the middle of the night with Shaun lying next to me, of feeling his warm body against mine, and of seeing it accented by the soft glow from the streetlight outside. But more than just how he looks, I dream about his smile; I think about how he's always there for me when I'm in trouble; and I remember how he looks when he turns and sees me when he doesn't expect to, and the way his face brightens up in sincere pleasure. God! It makes me feel warm from top to bottom. Did I just use Shaun? I've drifted off, and when I snap back to the present, I realize that Shaun is looking at me. But, there's something different in his eyes, as if he's seeing me for the first time. Suddenly, I feel locked in, as if I can't turn away. I feel as if he's looking inside of me, past the mask that I present to the world, and into my soul. I feel as if he see's exactly how I feel. I think that if I can just turn away, the connection will be broken and that what I feel will be hidden again. That's what I want to do, but I can't. We've reached another critical point; one that I never imagined, one that's not in my plan, and one that I'm completely unprepared for. It's huge, when I think about it, bigger than any of the other four that preceded it. I know that it's dangerous to move forward unprepared; that's always when things fall apart. The greater the risk, the more careful I try to be. I know I should back away, give myself time to think things through and move forward when the very air isn't so heavily charged. If I make a mistake now, I could blow the best thing in my life. Everything I have, everything I want, everything I live for, could be gone. We continue to stare at each other as I twirl the tiny red man in my hand. Round and round again, he swirls through my fingers. Then, I stop. My brain is screaming for me to wait, to not do what I am thinking of doing, but my arm seems to move on its own. I bring game piece up to my mouth and I kiss the base. Then, I gently set the man down in the middle of Shaun's chest, right over his heart, my eyes joined with his the whole time. His continues to stare, his expression never changes, and we stay that way for what feels like hours. I watch him, scared, feeling like, in that small gesture, I've laid myself bare, like I'm exposed and ready to be crushed. Then, without looking away, he brings his hand up, and covers mine. I feel both the warmth, but also much more. Both our hands remain; joined together. It's Jared that breaks the spell. He opens his eyes and he turns to look at us. "Yah know guys, I'm up for another game!" he says. Both Shaun and I look at the same time and see the same thing. We burst out laughing and fall across each other. Jared turns scarlet; brighter red than I've ever seen anyone turn before. "You certainly are," Shaun says for both of us. And Jared brings his hands up and covers his face, laughing along with us. We stay that way for sometime; I lay across Shaun's chest, Jared snuggled up beside us. It's as if we are letting the tension build. You can almost smell it in the air. My hand runs up Shaun's side and then strokes softly across his chest and then moves down. It lingers at his belly, and I poke gently at his bellybutton. I'm positive I could let it drift further down and there would be no resistance, just a welcoming stretch of his legs and a slight coo. But, I stop there and let it linger, drawing lazy circles around his stomach. I feel his hand come up and run gently through my hair, the other wraps itself around my shoulder, and the same warmth fills me as when he smiles. Then, we all move as one. Sitting up, we begin to gather the cards, the board, and the game pieces. But, this time, I think we'll skip the part with the clothes.