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

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From ch. 4

"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.

Street Kids


"I gotta go." Rye said, standing to finish dressing. "Thanks for -- you know, holding me. I was being sissy." He pulled his tracksuit trousers up, his t-shirt over his head and picked up his scruffy looking hoodie. "Anytime -- just say." He said, opening my bedroom door.

"No." I said, watching him curiously. "There won't be another time. There shouldn't have been a this time, or this morning."

"Why? I thought I was your -"

"No, you're not. I shouldn't have said it, shouldn't have done it." I said.

"But why?" he whined. God, he was pathetic.

"I just can't. Not like that. Now fuck off!" I shouted the last at him. He turned and went. I'll bet he was crying, too.

I fell on my bed and thought about it all. Three days ago, I was just another street kid, hanging out with all the other no goods on the estate. Now I was an outed queer, and it wouldn't be long before I was beat up for it. Like shit, life stinks and you can't shake it off when it sticks to you.

Key and Jay only want me for their own pleasure.

Even Pie, I'm sure he only wants me for what I'll do with him.

Fuck `em all, I'll find my own pleasure with someone I'll never have to see again. I climbed off the bed, took off my trackies and boxers, then slipped my trackies back on. I skipped down the stairs and out of the door, nearly knocking Mum over as she was about to climb the doorstep.

"I'm goin' out!" I snarled. "An' I'll be late back!"

"Anthony! Where are you -" I didn't listen to the rest.

I walked around for hours, eventually finding myself at the by-pass junction at the edge of town. It was a bad junction, there had been lots of serious crashes there until the brighter street lights were put in. I leant against a road sign pole, watching the cars and lorries passing, some turning onto the by-pass, some going to town. Every thirty seconds the lights would change, and the traffic would stop. I looked at the drivers and passengers in the cars, all ordinary people with ordinary lives. Some glanced at me, a scruffy kid in a pale blue tracksuit leaning on a pole. Their glances didn't last long. There was nothing to see.


I dug the fag packet out of a pocket, and stuck the last fag in my mouth. The lighter sparked, and I took a deep drag. I stood there playing with the packet, making it's top a mouth, and talking for it like it was a ventrilowhatsit's dummy.

"What do you think of it so far?" I said.

Moving the packet top, I answered "Fuckin' crap."

I threw the packet at the traffic, just as it all came to a stop at the lights. The packet bounced off a car's windscreen and slid halfway down its bonnet. The driver leant over and opened the kerbside door.

"Hey, Kid!" he shouted.

"What!" I sneered back.

"Get in!" I stood up off the pole, surprised he hadn't shouted at me about the fag packet.

"Why?" I called back.

"'Cause I want you to!" he said, loud enough to be heard over the traffic noise.

"Nah!" I shouted back.

The lights changed, but he sat there leaning over, holding the door open.

"Get in!" he called again, insistent this time.

I took a step closer. "What's it worth?" I said, not intending to comply anyway. Two cars behind blew their horns.

"A packet of fags and a bag of chips, to start!" he said. I didn't have enough cash for both, and I was suddenly hungry. The car behind blew its horn again, longer and more angrily somehow. I flashed its driver the finger and stepped up to the door.

"What do you want?" I asked.

"You to get in!" he said. I heard the car behind's horn again, shook my hand at it in the `wanker' sign, and climbed in. as I pulled the door shut, the driver pushed a button on his door and I heard the lock click in my side door. "Better put the belt on." He said, and swung the car out into the middle lane to take the by-pass, causing a lorry behind to jam on its brakes and blast us with its air horn.

I clipped the belt across me, and looked around. It had been a posh car when new, but was shabby and dirty inside now. The dashboard had a hole where a radio had been, and the trim under the windscreen was sun-bleached and torn.

"Where are we going?" I asked.

"For a ride!" he said, watching the mirror as he weaved around another lorry and put his foot down.

Mum's warnings from years back echoed in my mind.

"Don't talk to strange men."

"Never get into anybody's car who you don't know."

Fuck it, I was 14, I could take care of myself now, I thought. Do him over and take the car if he tried anything funny with me. I could drive -- Sy (Simon) had shown me in a Mondeo he nicked one night. I hadn't damaged it much on the lamp post, and he was going to get something smaller for me to try the next night -- oh well, he's only got three more months to do. Fancy trying to nick a copper's wife's car! Dumb shit!

"What are you snickering at?" the man said, glancing over to me.

I hadn't realised I'd laughed aloud. "Oh, nothing. Something a dumb mate did, and got nicked for." I said. Why did I tell him that? He didn't need to know --

The car's tyres squealed as we turned right across the other carriageway, and up a lane away from town. I don't know why that oncoming car blared its horn and put its lights up full, he was miles away.

"Where are we going?" I asked again.

"Nearly there!" the man said, turning off onto a narrower lane and accelerating hard again.

A minute or so later, the trees ended on my side of the lane and he pulled over into a small lay by. I suppose it was for cars that met each other to pass in, it like the lane wasn't very wide.

"Look at that!" he said, pointing out of my door window. I hadn't realised we'd climbed so far, but the town's lights twinkled in the distance below us. It was a clear night, and the view was amazing. It made me draw a breath.

"Yes, it's beautiful, isn't it!" he said, leaning over me to see for himself.

"Like you." he added as his hand fell in my lap. My head shot round to face his grotesque smile as he fondled me. His breath smelt of stale beer and fags.

"Don't struggle." He said. "I don't want to hurt you." It was only then I saw in the moonlight how muscled he was.

I could have frozen, then struggled, but I was no match for him. Strangely, I relaxed. His fingers kneaded my cock, which was hardening fast. `Go with it.' my mind said. `You wanted anonymous fun -- here it is! Enjoy it!'

"You gotta suck me off then." I heard myself say through ragged breathing.

"Yeah, boy, gladly!" he said, his moonlit face gleaming in amazement. He'd probably never had one this easy. His hand slid under my trackies waistband and grasped my hard cock.

"No pants?" he said in surprise.

"Makes it easier!" I joked.

He sat up. "Are you a rent boy?" he asked.

I laughed loudly. "Nah!" I was just hangin' there, tryin' to sort some shit in me mind!" I said. "Why, is that where they hang out?" I asked, curious. The idea of getting paid for this was -- interesting.

"Not usually." He said. "The car park behind the cinema is their usual haunt."

A car's lights came towards us down the lane. He pulled me roughly down out of sight, which hurt as I'd still got the seatbelt on. His crotch smelt of stale beer, too -- perhaps he'd spilt some. The car slowed as it passed, because the lane was narrow. I sat up again, and unclipped the belt.

"Sorry." He said, realising he'd hurt me.

"S'OK." I said, moving my erect cock in my trackies. It had got screwed up when I was pulled over. "We don't want to get caught, do we?" I smiled.

I'd arranged my cock to tent my trackies right up, but he kept looking around out of the back window.

"I'm not a plant, there's no cops following us." I said, confidently. "Are you going to do anything or not? If not, just take me back to town."

That seemed to ease him, and he put his fingers back on my bulge.

"My, you are a big boy, aren't you!" he said, wrapping his hand round it and wanking me with my trackies.

"My boyfriend seems to think so!" I said brazenly. "Fucked him twice today, once at school and once on my bed!" with only a little exaggeration I could play him at his own game.

His eyes opened wide at that. "Which school? Where?" he asked.

"Kettering Road Boys." I said. "Know it?"

"Behind the gym?" he asked. "We used to go there for a crafty fag. Got my first blow job there, too!" he added.

"You know how to blow, then? I'm waiting!" I said, getting irritated by his chat.

I lifted my arse and helped him push my trackies down. His head dropped to my lap and he licked my cockhead, making me shiver.

"Plenty of precum!" he said, raising his head a little and licking his lips. "You're a randy little bugger, aren't you!" he laughed.

I just went "M-mm! to agree.

"Tell me about fucking your boyfriend, it sounds hot!" he said as he dropped in my lap again.

"He likes it rough." I told him. "I just yanked his trousers down and stuffed it in. Fucked him real hard, I did. Made him spunk up the wall!"

The man was doing a very acceptable job on my cock, he'll soon have me spunkin' up myself I thought. My hand dug into his lap and squeezed his hard-on to encourage him. He lifted his head again.

"Oh yeah boy! You really know how to turn a man on, don't you!" he gasped. "Tell me about when you got him home!" he added, and dropped back onto my cock.

"I had to do him rough again. Dragged him by his hair to my room, made him suck me hard, then threw him on the bed and fucked his brains out!" I told him. "He pretended to resist at first, but I slapped his face and forced him down!" I elaborated. "He enjoys that!"

The man stopped sucking me and slowly raised his head. Looking at me dead serious, he said, "Ryan Pearson?"

I was shocked beyond belief. How did this stranger know him? Unless --

"Do you know him?" I asked.

The man sat back in his seat. "He only lives down the -- er -- yes, I've met him." He said.

My mind whirled. "Have you done anything with him?" I asked, my voice obviously sounding worried. The man sat silent for a while. When he spoke it made me jump.

"Look, I shouldn't tell you this, but -- well, this is how it happened. He used to come round and do odd jobs for me and my neighbours, like. Sweeping leaves, raking the lawn and that for a pound or two. Nice little kid. Then his father died and he went downhill fast. One day he comes round to see if I'd got anything for him to do, I was in the garage working on the car, and when I said I hadn't, he goes off apeshit at me. Swearing, hitting me and kicking. I gave him a slap round the head harder than I should have, I know, knocked him to the floor. Next thing, he gets up, drops his jeans and says `Well fuck me then'! I thought he was joking, in a weird way, but he kept on with `stick your big fat cock up my arse now'! I dragged him into the house to calm down, I live alone if you hadn't guessed, but he got worse! Said if I didn't fuck him he'd scream the place down so all the neighbours would hear!"

"So did you? Fuck him, that is?" I asked, shocked and saddened to hear more of Rye's desperation for attention.

"In the end, yes, I'm ashamed to say. He was going off worse every minute, and I didn't know how to stop him. But when I was about to start, stripped off and all, he starts again. `Smack me, make me bend over, hit me you bastard then fuck my ass!' he was screaming. I was scared the neighbours would call the police, and I've got a record for -- well, you don't want to know that -- so I lost it and smacked him onto the bed, and fucked him hard. Funny thing was, afterwards, he was that sweet little kid again. Even said `Thank you, Mr. Ronson' -- shit -- now you know my name!"

"It doesn't matter -- I'm Anthony Calligan -- Ant or Ants to my friends." I said, and offered him my hand. I smirked as the irony of this situation hit me as he took it and said "Simon Ronson."

"What's funny?" he asked.

"You picked me up to molest, and here we are introducing ourselves and shaking hands!" I said. He didn't laugh.

"Don't say that word." He said. "That's what I was done for."

"I guessed so." I said. "Well here I am, molest me!" I snickered.

He looked angrily at me.

"Molest, molest, molest!" I said loudly. "Just fuckin' get on with it, I've gone off the bone now!"

"Wank me off, please!" he whispered as he lowered his head to my lap again.

"When you've blown me." I said. "It'll be easier then."

He did a very good job on me, and within ten minutes I'd gone from limp to blowing my wad down his throat. He guzzled it all up, and continued licking me till I had to pull his head off me, I was so sensitive.

We sat for about five minutes while I came down off it, then he said "Are you going to -" and took my hand and put it in his lap.

"Let's get out the car and look at the view." I said, trying to open my door. He popped the locks, took the keys out of the ignition and we got out. We leaned against a wooden fence and gazed at the town's lights.

"They are beautiful." I said. "Like boys. I know at least two boys who'll be doing this to each other tonight." and slid his zip down, fished around in his pants and took his manly cock in my hand. "And one of them's got a cock as big as this!" I told him, truthfully. I crouched down a bit to be comfortable, and started wanking him. I felt sad for him as he looked down and smiled, that a grown man has to think of small boys to get himself off. I don't know why I did what I did next, perhaps it was him telling me about Rye, but I thought I owed him a good time. I raised my voice a pitch, to sound younger, and started.

"Hello Simon, I'm blond haired little Timmy, I'm ten and I don't know what wanking or cum is, will you show me? Am I doing this right? What's going to happen, Simon? Why had your winkle got so big? Is it my little hand making it big? Ooh, my little winkle's itching in my shorts! I think it's getting bigger! Will you put it in your mouth for me, Uncle Simon? Teach me how to play with it, please Uncle Simon!"

Simon groaned like a lion after its kill, and with his knees sagging shot jet after jet of spunk flying into the field. A good job, I couldn't have kept up that voice any longer!

Simon turned to me and helped me stand. My knees had set, I'd crouched for so long! He pulled me to him, but I pushed him away.

"No kissing!" I said. "I think we're even now, thanks for the blow job, it was one of the best I've had. Just do me a favour? If you want to pick up any more boys, do it in another town, please. Some of my friends won't be as receptive to you as I was."

"OK, deal." He said. "But just be careful with Ryan, he's seriously fucked in the head, you know."

"I know." I replied.

"And I wasn't his first, he stretched too easily to be a virgin." Simon added.

"His Dad used to knock him about and mess with him when he came home drunk. Probably fucked him too. When he was sober, the kid meant nothing to him, and now he misses the attention." I explained. "So now he goes out to be beaten up, and to get fucked, just to remember his Dad."

Simon whistled in understanding.

"Now take me back and give me a tenner for my fags and chips. You promised, remember?" I said.

He laughed. "Yeah, I remember. Cheapest rent boy in town!"

We sat back in the car, he started it, put the lights on, then dropped his hand to my knee. "And the best!" he said.