A bit more of the tale of urban delinquency, based on the kids we see every day.

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Roy.

sunbeamtb@yahoo.co.uk

OK, the calendar's gone astray here. It's now Friday in the story, so you'll just have to forget that I said `Thursday' in ch 1. Just pretend I'd said `Wednesday' instead. OK? Good.

Street Kids

4

I dragged myself from sleep and realised there was a very damp patch where the top of my thigh was resting. Damp? The sheet was soaked. Gradually I remembered bits of the dream, the bit where I was bent over my school desk and Pie was pushing his -- well, he was fucking me in the middle of maths class in actual fact. All the kids there were watching us open-mouthed, not with surprise but envy! Another bit where I forced Rye to drop his shorts (it was the middle of the playing field at school, on sports day, with hundreds of other kids, teachers and parents watching-how weird are dreams?) and I fucked him to the loudest cheers I'd ever heard from a crowd at sports day. And the bit where Jay walked across the field during a football match, stark naked, with Key, totally off the ground impaled on a cock even huger than his really was.

I staggered into the shower, only just awake enough to walk there, and turned on the water. As it warmed (it wasn't completely cold to start, Mum usually has a shower first thing too) and needled my face, I started to wake up properly, and my full bladder was making itself known. I let it go, but instead of the fountain of piss which I expected to see splash the shower cubicle wall from my semi hard-on, I felt the warmth spread around my cock and balls, and run down my leg. I realised I still had the boxers on that I'd slept in. Oh well, the shower would wash the piss and most of the cum out.

I washed my hair, face and chest, then peeled down the soaked boxers and kicked them to one side. I soaped round my hips and upper legs, then my prized possession. As I stroked slowly with a soapy hand the image of Rye's ass from my dream came into my mind, just at the point where I was pushing my cock in. With the shower splashing on my chest, I leaned back against the wall and imagined as I stroked. Annoying little brat though Rye was, he had a cute ass and I'd love to ream it out with my cock one day. I thought of doing that, him bent over and me pushing in and stretching him for the first time, hearing him squeal as his tight ring was forced open, then it tightening on the meat of my cock. Me thrusting deep into him, holding his squirming body by my hands on his waist, then ramming home one last time as I came the cum of all time deep in his gut. Trouble is, the little runt would likely follow me around for ever begging for it again and again.

It isn't often I can wank myself to a frenzied cum like the one I had. Six strong ropes of cum blew from me onto the shower wall opposite, and I was left gasping for breath. `One day, Rye, you'll be mine for the taking' I thought.

I finished my shower, dried off, brushed my teeth and dressed for school. I'll never understand why we have to wear this boring plain uniform, unlike American schools where the kids can just dress casual. Still, there I was, in grey shapeless trousers, white shirt (outside my trousers, of course), blue and red striped tie (loose at the collar and tied with the shortest possible end showing) and dark blue, almost black, jacket. I gelled my hair into place and picked up my MP3 player and earphones to listen to on my walk to school.

Mum was fussing about in the kitchen when I went down, did I want cereal? No. Tea? No. Orange juice? No. I just wanted to go and get it over with, it was Friday, after all, the last day of the week.

I walked slowly the half mile to Kettering Road Secondary School listening to Coldplay on my MP3, kicking every loose stone I could find towards the passing cars and wondering if Jay would have anything `special' to talk to me about when I met him. I think he may ask me to do a favour for him, somehow!

I turned into the yard and saw Key and Jay chatting. Hopeful, I joined them but the chat was about everything but what I wanted to hear. Tomorrow's football and the WWF wrestling on the telly tomorrow night, mostly. Dan walked past and just grunted a `Hi'. He's not a morning person any day of the week. Just as the bell went Pie sauntered in and came up beside me, put his arm on my shoulder and asked if I'd had a roasting from Mum when I got in.

"We talked, everything's cool." was all I'd say.

The morning's periods were exceedingly boring and slow. Even the break was boring, I couldn't find Pie, and Jay was hanging around me too much. He may have a big cock (and I may be wanting to do things with it), but he's about as exciting as a fart in a lift.

Eventually I cornered Pie at dinnertime. I hinted that we might slip away and hide somewhere, but he wouldn't take the hint. Eventually I wandered off round the back of the gym block, whose high windowless wall faced that of the factory next door which made plastic handles for car doors and windows. It was an area `strictly out of bounds' so was an ideal spot for those of us who fancied a fag, or to share a joint. Perhaps I could cadge a fag or a few drags on a spliff, I thought.

When I turned the corner I was disappointed to see there were only three boys, third years, sharing a fag. But one was Rye! I walked up to them.

I grabbed Rye and pushed him against the gym wall. "Beat it, you wankers!" I told the other two, and raised a hand as if to backhand the face of the smallest. They scurried away.

"I hope you aren't telling tales!" I said into Rye's face. "Because I'd hate to have to snap this off!" I added, grabbing his crotch.

"I -- I wasn't!" he pleaded. No, I suppose he'd have more to lose if Jay's story about him became known. "You'd better not!" I threatened, lifting him a bit with one hand on his shirt and the other on his jewels. I felt something grow down there. His eyes flashed with horror, surprise and -- if I didn't know before, I knew now -- he actually liked this rough treatment.

I spun him around and pushed his face and chest into the bricks. His hands were trying to push himself back, away from the wall so when I reached round, yanked his zip down and pushed my hand in the open fly he couldn't stop me. I pulled his cock through the fly in his boxers and rubbed it.

"Did you like Jay doing this?" I asked, stroking his quick-hardening prick. "You want it again, don't you?"

He "Urmph"ed and struggled, still trying to push away from the wall. One hand dropped onto mine and tried to stop me. "Don't!" I snarled at him. He lifted it away.

Holding him against the wall with one arm across his back, I let go of his cock and popped his waistband clip, then pushed the free hand down the back of his trousers and forced a finger against his arse.

"I'm gonna pop your cherry, Ryan Pearson. I'm gonna shove my cock so far up your ass that you'll feel it in your throat!" I quietly threatened him.

It was meant as a scare, but he pushed his ass back onto my fingers and forced himself away from the wall enough to turn his head and look at me, with a look that half said `No, don't' and half said `Oh, yes!' That half of his look boned me instantly.

Just then the first bell rang for start of afternoon lessons. Kids would be heading back in. I had to decide quickly.

Grabbing his trousers and boxers by the waist, I pushed them down in a flash, popped my clip and dropped my zip.

"Stick your ass back!" I said, sternly. He did. I pushed the front of my boxers down under my balls and lifted his coat and shirt.

I dribbled a spitball onto my cockhead and rubbed it up and down his crack. I dribbled a couple more on the shaft, then lined up and pushed. He'll scream, I thought. I'll smack his head on the wall if he does.

"Push back!" I grunted as I pushed my cockhead at his ring. He bent forward and held hard against my thrust, and to my surprise he stretched (or seriously relaxed) and I slipped in, just the head. Oh yeah!

Rye yelped as I entered him, exciting me to push harder. My cock, hard as a steel rod, slid further in, about halfway, the almost dry skin feeling like it would tear off. He was screaming, but so silently I could only just hear his cry. I pulled back and thrust again four times, but I was so hyped about fucking him that it was over in an instant, and I felt the sear as I held myself in tight and pumped my cum into him.

I pulled my raw cock painfully out and spun him back round, leaning him against the wall. A drop of cum hung by a strand from his cock, and I saw the rest of his cum sliding down the wall he had faced. He'd shot his bolt when I fucked him! He sobbed from the pain and looked at me with tearful eyes.

I grabbed his shirt front with my hand and screwed it, holding him towards me a bit.

"You're my bitch now, Rye. Your ass is mine, anytime I want it. Understand?" I snarled at him.

"Y -- yes." He whimpered. I watched a dribble of my cum drop from between his legs into his crumpled boxers around his ankles.

I was suddenly shit scared. What had I done? It was rape, no less. He'd tell, and I'd be locked away for ever. For just a few seconds of my own pleasure. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

"A -- ant?" he snivelled. I didn't want to hear. He was staring at me with pitiful eyes, and there was no way I could undo what I had done.

He leant toward me, lifted an arm around my neck to hold me, and slowly put his lips to mine. That, I didn't expect.

"Get yourself dressed." I said, pulling up my shorts and trousers. "You'd better say you've got the shits or something, and get off home. It's going to hurt."

"It fuckin' does already!" he sniffed. Then half-smiled. I turned to go.

"Can I see you later?" his whiny voice said.

"I suppose so." I replied, and walked off to my class.

Mr. Thomas accepted my excuse for being so late to science class, he stopped my description of the pebble dashed toilet bowl in mid-sentence with a curt `OK, enough. Sit down at the front, Anthony." I didn't hear much else he said, I was too busy worrying about what I'd done. The next two classes, French and History, dragged on and I worried more. Eventually the bell rang and we all ran for the door. I was third out.

I passed Pie and Key in the yard. "See yer in the park later?" Key asked. "Maybe." I replied, not stopping to chat. I was still shittin' myself thinking that Rye would tell, and I'd be whisked off to jail.

I'd been home about fifteen minutes and had changed into my trackies when I heard a noise downstairs. Mum was still at work, Friday was always a late finish for her. I came out of my room and looked down the stairs. There was the shadow on the glass of someone standing outside the front door, and as I watched, their hand raised and knocked the glass again.

I sighed at the disturbance and went to see who it was. When I opened the door, Rye was standing there.

"Oh, Hi!" he said, looking a bit embarrassed. "I thought you an' I might hang for a while." He added.

"Oh. Yeah. Right." I said, and let him in.

"Look, I'm sorry about -" I started, still scared of what I'd done.

"Shit, Ant, I never knew it would be like that!" he interrupted me with.

"But I hurt you."

"Yeah, it still hurts. That's why I brought this." He dug something out of his pocket and gave it to me. A small tube of lubricant.

"I thought we could -" he began, but stopped.

"You wanna -- again?" I said, amazed at his lack of fear.

"You said my ass was yours, didn't you? Anytime?"

As I'd thought earlier, he'll be hanging round for ever now.

"Oh. Yeah." I said, unexcitedly, although I was hardening at the thought. He was throwing himself at me, to be fucked again.

I turned to go upstairs, expecting him to follow. "Ant." he said.

I turned round. "What?" I replied.

We stared at each other for a couple of seconds. "You gotta make me." he said.

He really does want it rough, then. I grabbed a handful of his hair and yanked him towards, and up, the stairs. He wasn't expecting that, by the scream. In my room, I threw him down on the floor. I pulled down my trackie trousers. "Suck me hard!" I ordered.

With tear-filled eyes, and rubbing his scalp where I'd pulled him, he knelt up and took my cock in his mouth. He could suck like an expert.

"Get up and strip off!" I instructed when he'd got me full-on hard. "Put this on us both!" I threw the tube of lube gel to him. He tugged off his clothes, and squeezed half of the gel on one hand and massaged my cock with it. Then he squeezed the rest on his fingers, and reached under himself to his ass. He stood and threw the empty tube down.

"Get on the bed and lay down." I ordered, getting myself ready to fuck him face to face.

"Make me." He said. His sudden insolence surprised me. "What?" I said.

"Fuckin' make me!" he shouted.

"Get on that bed now!" I shouted back.

"Fuck you!" he screamed in my face. "You want my ass that bad, you gotta make me give it ya!"

I swung my hand and slapped him hard on the side of his head. I grabbed him by an arm and threw him on the bed, and jumped on after him. I held his struggling body, lifted his legs and lunged at him, piercing his ass with my cock. I slid straight in to the end, aided by the lube.

Rye stopped struggling for a minute, shocked by the sudden intrusion to his ass, then writhed about some more. I pinned his shoulders and slammed in and out of him, far harder than I intended. He only struggled a little now.

I fucked him hard for a couple of minutes, the sweat pouring from me. I wished I'd taken my top off now. I watched the pain in his face below me, then I felt myself about to cum, and thrust hard in him, and pumped like I'd never done before. His hand went to his cock and I felt him wanking himself, I jumped back before he could cum on my t-shirt and top.

His head was pressed back into the bed, he arched his back up as his hand flashed up and down in a blur. I smacked his hand away and buried his cock in my mouth just as he shot his cumload. Six hot jets shot down my throat, and I sucked another two from him before he collapsed, gasping for air. I collapsed alongside him, spent and filled.

After five minutes or so recovering, during which I was on my side watching him, I ran a finger down Rye's chest to his navel.

"Why do you want it to be so rough?" I asked.

He jumped up, leapt from my bed and gathered his clothes ready to put on. "Why?" I asked again.

"It doesn't matter." He said. Well, it did to me. I stood up and walked over to him as he pulled up his boxers. I went to put a hand out, to steady him. He thought I was going to hit him again, and fell away, dropping to the floor with his foot tangled in his shorts. I moved to catch him, but missed. He must have thought I was going to wallop him. "Stop!" he shouted. "I'm not playing now!"

"Neither am I." I said. "I was trying to stop you falling, not hit you."

He looked up from the floor, realising his mistake. Silently, he started crying. His face screwed up like a little kid in pain and he opened his mouth to wail, but made no sound. I knelt beside him and held an arm round his shoulder. "What's up, Rye? What's wrong?" I tried. He just shook his head. I knelt there for a few moments, then tried again. "What's going on in your head, Rye? Things can't be OK for you to be like this." No answer.

"Tell me." I said, stronger. "Before I make you."

He looked me straight in the eye and said, "My Dad used to knock me about." Then he hung his head.

Oh shit. I knew Rye's Dad had been killed about two years ago, he was coming home from the pub drunk and had fell in the road, and a car had run over him. This was going to be a deep tub of shit.

"It's all I can remember of him, coming home, knocking me about and -- and -- doing things to me. Or trying, he was always too pissed."

"Why didn't you - " I began.

"Because if he wasn't doing that, he ignored me. I didn't exist in his eyes." Rye sobbed. "It was the only way to get attention from him, let him do it, let him try. But if he couldn't, he'd get madder, so I had to help him, like."

"What about your Mum? She loves you, surely?" I asked, trying to settle him a bit.

"She pissed off years ago." He said, the tears ending now. "When I was about five. I hardly remember her. It's Dad's sister who lives with us now, and she's only there `cause of the social payouts for us. Any day I expect her to be gone, then we're into a home."

"So all this rough stuff is to remember your Dad? Surely you'd be better off forgetting someone like that." I said, without thinking it out.

"He's all I fucking had!" Rye screamed at me. "He was a shit dad, but he was my Dad! Mine! The only thing that ever was mine!" he was sobbing hard again now. I wrapped my arms round him and held him tight. As he calmed again, I turned his face to mine and kissed him.

"It doesn't have to be rough, you know." I said, and cried with him.