Date: Wed, 25 Jun 2014 22:56:04 -0700 From: Douglas DD DD Subject: The Puget Posse Chapter 13 Welcome back. The first day of orientation at the Puget Academy is over. This chapter is about the reaction of Misha, Patrick, Neville, and the twins to that first day. All disclaimers apply, like they always had and always will. Please donate to the Nifty Archive. Every dollar counts. Email is always appreciated. thehakaanen@hotmail.com CHAPTER 13 LIFE AT HOME The five boys from table five went home to their families. They told varying stories and had varying thoughts about how the day had gone. But, the one thing they had in common was their eagerness to return; their first day at the Puget Academy had left a positive impression with them. ++++++++++++ Patrick was greeted by Grannana when he came into the house through the back door. Uncle Ted had picked him up and was putting his car into the garage. "Well, here comes our little student. How was the first day in academia? Have you learned all you need to know to enter the university?" Patrick gave her a tight hug, then stood on tiptoe and gave her a kiss on her left cheek. Even at an even four feet in height, Patrick didn't have to stretch much to reach his great-grandmother's cheek. "Grannana, today wasn't a school day, it was orientation. And I am only going into fifth grade. I'll never learn enough for the university, not this year." "Well, Paddy dearest, you must have learned something." "I did. I learned how to get around the school. We played the funnest game to teach us." "There is no such word as funnest. It would be `most fun', my dear, not funnest," Patrick ignored the correction and asked what was for dinner; not that he couldn't tell from the fragrant aroma permeating the kitchen. "We will be having spaghetti and meatballs, as I am sure your very sensitive nose told you." "I can't fool you, can I, Grannana?" "A little wombat like you will never fool a wise old woman." Patrick flashed his trademark grin and said, "But, I can always try." The old lady returned his hug and said, "Yes, you can always try." That evening at dinner, Brian, Grannana, and Ted listened with great patience as Patrick excitedly told them about his day, pausing only long enough to suck in strands of spaghetti or dive into a meatball. "The kids at my table were pretty cool, which is good because Mr. Jackson said our teams are going to have to work together all the way to winter break before we could make changes, so we better learn how to get along." "Do you think you guys will get along?" Brian asked. "I don't know. The twins are really cool. They are super friendly and talk a lot, but they like to argue with each other. They play soccer and baseball and basketball and want to play football. Mikhail is really quiet, but he did say we can call him Misha. He's from Russia. I like him a lot and I hope we can be friends. Neville is like a snob and everything. He's from England and you can tell when he talks." "Well, nobody is perfect," Brian observed. "He made fun of me being Irish, even though I have never been to Ireland in my life." "I hope you dished it right back on him," Ted said. "I tried. I think he thinks he's better than me because he's got lots of money and I don't and go to school on a scholarship." "Well, dear, we all know that the world doesn't turn on money," Grannana said. "Unless you don't have it," Brian said. "Mr. Jackson says we need to come up with a name for our team. We can't just be a number, we have to have a name." "Do you have any ideas?" "Nope, but I've been thinking hard about it. We'll come up with something good." That night, after his father tucked him into bed, Patrick thought about his first day. While it wasn't a perfect day, it had been a good one. He liked the boys in his group. The twins were really nice and were funny. He really liked Misha, and hoped they could become friends. He wasn't sure what to make of Neville, but he seemed to be okay. He was excited about returning for the second day of orientation. He had a feeling he was going to like the Puget Academy. ++++++++++++ Mrs. Pettigrew picked Neville up at school since no transportation was provided for orientation. She dropped him off at his house and left for home. When Neville arrived home, Maria, the cook, was busily preparing dinner. "Hello, Neville," she said as the ten-year-old peeked into the kitchen. "What are we having for dinner?" Neville asked. Maria noticed his failure to return her greeting. While she liked the ebullient Dylan, she did not care for Neville, whom she saw as condescending and rude. "Meatloaf." "I like chicken better." His words had no effect on Maria. Neville never seemed satisfied with the menu. She was certain that if she had been cooking chicken, he would have asked for meatloaf. Neville went to his room, wondering if Dylan was home. His step- brother's bedroom door was open, but the room was empty. Neville went into his own room, stripped down to his underpants and flopped onto his bed. He thought about his first day of orientation and the boys in his table group. He did not like the twins. They were noisy and much too full of themselves. He didn't like how they teased him about his accent. He was upset that he was going to be stuck with them until Christmas break came. To Neville, that was simply unacceptable. Misha seemed to be okay, but it was hard to tell, and his being a Russian didn't help his cause much. He seemed to be really quiet, which made him the opposite of the twins. Patrick appeared to be really friendly, but he had an attitude, mostly because he was proud of being Irish. Neville thought about jerking off, but wasn't in the mood. He didn't like the fact that there were no girls at the school. Not that he would know what to do if there had been a girl there, but he at least liked to think he did. After all, he did have some experience. He was certain the other four boys were not nearly as worldly as he was when it came to sex. He was willing to bet none of them wanked, and if they did they certainly didn't wank with another boy like he did. His experiences with Kathy and with Dylan and his friends convinced Neville he was much more knowing than his four table partners. He fell asleep and woke up when he heard Dylan and somebody outside of this room. Not bothering to dress, he got up and opened the door. He was not surprised to see that the other person was Cody. "Hey, Neville," Cody said, looking at the slender ten-year old dressed in just his white briefs. Neville said nothing, but simply nodded. Cody turned to Dylan and said, "Looks like your brother is ready for some action." "No," Neville protested, "I was just taking a nap. I wanted to see who was here with Dylan." "Who did you expect it to be?" Dylan asked. "I assumed it was you, Cody." "I love how you talk," Cody said. After putting up with the twins' comments on his so-called accent all morning, he glared at Cody and said, "That is bloody stupid. I don't have an accent. Fuck you." He returned to his room, slamming the door behind him. "Whoa, dude, your brother said `fuck'," Cody said. "Is that awesome or what?" "It makes him sound human," Dylan agreed. "Do we have time to play around?" Cody asked. "If we hurry." "What about doofus?" "He can come join us if he wants. But, I think he likes getting all pissy better than doing anything." "Better than sex?" "Must be because he's from England...I dunno." Cody and Dylan retired to Dylan's room, while Neville lay on his bed and sulked. He finally got up and turned on his computer, looking for something to do. Dylan and Cody might have been just eleven and in sixth grade, but they were already finding it difficult to think of anything better than sex, unless it was food. Their session in Dylan's bedroom that afternoon did little to dispel that notion. Maria had the dinner finished in time for the family to eat as soon as Reginald arrived home. He was delayed some by traffic, but not enough to throw off the schedule of the efficient cook. While she was welcome to eat her prepared meal, Maria usually left as soon as she had cleaned the kitchen in order to be with her own family. Reginald asked Neville how the first day of orientation had gone. "It was exactly like Dylan said it would be," Neville replied. "I told you I knew what I was talking about," Dylan said. "What was your table team like?" "Mostly stupid. There are two twins at the table, and I do not know how they passed the entrance test. They do not seem to know much about anything except for sports and how to try to be clowns. They certainly do not know proper English." "Neither do you, since if you have twins there has to be two of them," Reginald said. Neville felt his face flush at his father's rebuke, but went on. "Then there is Mikhail, who calls himself Misha, but I can't tell why. He is from Russia and was adopted. We all know what adopted kids are like." "We do?" Shelly asked, challenging Neville to tell her what they were like. Neville could feel his face flush again. "Yes, we do. I knew a couple in England and they were very lower class." "Sorry to hear that," Shelley said. She was trying hard to keep Neville from having the same annoying sense of superiority his upper-crust father had. "I have known children and adults who were adopted and they seemed like perfectly fine people to me." Reginald pointedly said nothing, since he approved of where his son was coming from. "Does he have an accent?" Dylan asked. "I think those kinds of accents sound really cool, like they're foreign spies or something." "I think he does, but everybody says that I am the one with the accent." "Obviously uneducated sorts," Reginald said. "Reggie, they are only ten years old." "One is nine," Neville said. "Patrick skipped a grade and is only nine. Plus, he said he was Irish." "Irish?" Reginald said. "Odd that he should skip a grade, I don't fancy the Irish being that intelligent." "Reggie!" Shelley said. Somehow, the dinner conversation was getting out of hand. "I am merely pointing out a fact." "How did you like Mr. Jackson?" Dylan asked. "Is he cool, or what?" "A teacher shouldn't be telling jokes," Neville said. "He is supposed to be a teacher and not a comedian. I don't like him." "I can see about changing classes if you wish." Reginald said. "How was your day, Dylan?" Shelly asked, quickly steering the conversation into a different direction. Dylan talked about what he did, leaving out the blow job he'd given Cody. Cody talked about his day as well. The boys had spent the day at the Fitness Club with two other friends, swimming, playing hoops, and taking handball lessons. The mother of one of the boys had provided the transportation. He didn't say that he found Dylan's family to be a bit weird at times. "Thank you for the dinner, Ms. Carlson," Cody said. Shelley kept her maiden name after marrying Reginald. "Are you spending the night?" Neville asked, hoping the answer was yes. He was suddenly in the mood for doing something sexy. "No. We're going to the ocean for Labor Day and are leaving tomorrow morning." Both Dylan and Cody noticed Neville's disappointment. That night, Neville expected Dylan to come into his bedroom. He wasn't disappointed when the door opened a few minutes after their parents put them to bed. The light from the hall showed Dylan to be naked. "You acted like you were horny at dinner," Dylan said. "I was." "Let's jerk off together." Dylan knew better than to mince words with Neville. Neville turned on his desk lamp so he could watch his step-brother and pulled away the covers. He was also naked. The two lay side-by- side on Neville's bed, jerking their hairless little boners. Not for the first time Dylan wondered what the difference was between beating his own meat alone or doing it with Neville. He couldn't think of much difference other than doing it with Neville was a little bit sexier. But the real fun was doing it to somebody else and having somebody else do it you, which Neville refused to do. Dylan knew that Neville had to get over his hang-ups, but he didn't know how to make it happen. He badly wanted to touch Neville's uncut boner. He badly wanted to go even farther and masturbate his brother's three inch uncut rod. And he badly wanted to have Neville's hand around his preteen cock, lying back while his step-brother made him cum. Those were the fantasies in his mind as he had an enjoyable, but not a mind blowing, dry orgasm. Neville was thinking of his two nights with Kathy the baby-sitter as he used his thumb and index finger to stimulate himself. Even with his thoughts on a girl, he couldn't help but steal glances at his step- brother as he busily masturbated himself. Neville found his quiet grunts and moans to be stimulating. Dylan squeaked, raising his hips as he started fucking his small fist. Seeing Dylan having his orgasm set Neville off and his body shook with his own dry cum. Quite often, after satisfying himself, Neville told himself the whole process was stupid. This was one of those times. "Okay, you can go now," he told Dylan. Dylan was used to these sudden mood changes. "Okay, bro, But there's more to it than just jerking yourself off, you know." "Good night." Neville turned his back to Dylan, indicating that the conversation was over. Dylan shook his head and returned to his own bedroom. Neville faced the dark wall and thought about his day. His father had offered to see about him changing teachers. He'd never had a chance to reply. He wasn't going to ask him to do that yet, but he planned to remember his father's offer. Besides, he could end up in the same class as Jeremiah. As much as he didn't care for his table team, he found himself a bit frightened by the big ten-year-old. ++++++++++++ Mikhail dug into his beef stew. He knew his mother was the one of the best cooks in the United States. If nobody else knew that fact it was only because they had never tasted her cooking. But then, after some of the meals at the orphanage, Mikhail considered a burger at McDonald's to be gourmet fare. "So, Misha, the first day at school went well I take it," Mikhail's father, Ryan, said. Mikhail had met with Olga, his tutor, after coming home from school, and told her about his day. He also told Lois, his mother, as she prepared dinner, but he knew his father would want to hear his story as well. "Yes, sir, it went very well, thank you." "Tell me what the best part of the day was." "Meeting my table team." "What, pray tell, is a table team?" Mikhail told his father about his table, about the scavenger hunt, about Paul, their guide, and about Mr. Jackson. He didn't mention Jeremiah, whom he considered to be inconsequential. He told his father about the wild and crazy twins, about Neville who everybody thought was the one with an accent. He also told them about Patrick. "I hope we can be friends," he said matter-of-factly. He didn't say that about the other three boys at the table. "One of the things we must come up with is a name for our team. I was hoping very much to have an idea tomorrow." "Do any thoughts come to your mind?" Ryan asked. "No. I do not think I know English good enough yet for ideas." "You don't know it well enough, sweetie," Lois said. "You don't know English well enough yet." Between Olga, Lois, and less frequently, Ryan, Mikhail was slowly refining his English skills. "That is why I don't have any ideas," Mikhail said. "I still need to learn that good and well are much different." "Can you use the name of the school as part of the name of your team?" Ryan asked. "I think so." "Then think about how you can make that work." Mikhail ate a couple of spoonfuls of stew as he worked that thought over in his mind. "Maybe we be the Puget Team," he said. Lois ignored the grammatical slip. She didn't want to interrupt his train of thought. Having him come up with an original idea was more important at the moment than having perfect syntax. While Misha had become much improved at using English, when he got nervous he would often make errors. "That's a start," Ryan said. "It does not sound good in my head," Mikhail said. "Think of some other names for team, Misha, honey," Lois said. "See if you can find one that sounds right in your head." Mikhail ate in silence. He came up with the Puget Group but immediately rejected it. He emptied his bowl, sopping up the last bits with a piece of French bread. "Olga showed me places where I can look to find words," Mikhail said. "Where would that be?" Lois asked. "One is a theser...thesa...it sounds like dinosaur." "That would be a thesaurus," Ryan said. "An excellent idea." Mikhail thought it was an excellent idea as well, but he thought a bowl heated peach cobbler was an even better idea, especially with a scoop of ice cream on it. After dessert, he went to his room and pulled his thesaurus off of his shelf. Olga had shown him how to find a thesaurus on his computer, but he wanted to get used to using books to find things out. "Books first" was what Olga and his parents both preached. He spent five minutes looking through the book. His eyes kept returning to one word. He was certain it was the right one, but a lack of confidence seeped into his mind. He was afraid that maybe he didn't understand the word as well as he thought he did. The best way to find out if he was right would be to tell his idea to his parents. He knew they would be accepting of his idea, but would also let him know if it wasn't what he thought it was. He would rather be wrong in front of his parents than be wrong in front of the twins, and especially in front of Neville. He felt intimidated by the aloofness of Neville and the brashness of Mark and Mattie. He worried about not being accepted and sitting alone and apart from the group. He could feel his confidence starting to lag. He felt terribly lonely and placed his hand on his uncut boy cock and started playing with it. He loved the sense of comfort he got by manipulating his penis and his tight little testicles. His thoughts of Patrick were much different than those he had of the other three boys. Patrick appealed to him like no other boy had since he'd left Nikki at the orphanage. He usually waited until he was in bed naked before masturbating, but thinking of Patrick had made him incredibly horny. Misha had a huge boy crush on Patrick. Patrick said we could call him Paddy, Misha thought. That's what I want to call him, and I want him to call me Misha instead of Mikhail. He took off his clothes and started to masturbate. He jerked his thick, three inch uncut cock with his left hand and rubbed his chest and belly with his right. He loved the sensations he evoked when he touched himself. One of the few things he missed from the orphanage was receiving the touches of his fellow orphans. He missed having someone to share his bed. He thought about Patrick being next to him as he masturbated to a satisfactory dry cum. Misha put on a pair of sweats, but no shirt, and headed downstairs to tell his parents what he'd come up with. "I have a name," he informed them as he entered the TV room. "Tell us what it is, sweetie," Lois said. "Your father and I would love to hear it." "We could be a posse. A posse is a group. The dictionary says a posse is a group...," he fought to remember what he had read before his session on his bed. "...it is a group with a purpose...a common purpose." He grinned after he finished giving the definition. "Very good, Misha," Lois said. "So, you're going to be The Posse." Misha had a rare moment of impatience, and then said, "No. Remember what father said about using the name of the school?" Ryan's face lit up with a smile. "Perfect, son, absolutely perfect." Lois feigned ignorance and said, "I'm still not sure I understand." She wanted Misha to say it, as did Ryan, who obviously knew what Misha was thinking. "Puget Posse, mother. We can be the Puget Posse." "Oh, very good, I love it." She gave Misha an approving smile, followed by a hug. "What if the team doesn't like it?" he asked. Overall, Misha was a confident boy, but that confidence was often tempered by a fear of rejection. "Then you just live with the knowledge that your idea is better than theirs, even if they didn't recognize it as such," Ryan said. Misha grinned and hugged his father, getting a tight hug and a noogie in return. After being tucked into his bed later that evening, Misha tossed and turned. He thought his idea was a good one, but was afraid Neville and the twins would find a lot of reasons not to like it. He had a feeling Patrick would like it. He wasn't sure why he thought that way, but in his gut he thought Patrick would be in his corner. But, that still left him having to figure out a way to convince Neville and the twins. Maybe Patrick could help him do that. Misha wanted to be held. He wanted to feel somebody next to him. There were four other boys on his table team, but, after one day, he felt distant from them, even Patrick, who he couldn't get out of his mind. He pulled off his covers, grabbed the boxers he kept next to his bed at night and went to his parents' bedroom. They didn't like him coming into their bed naked, so he wore the boxers as a compromise. He entered their room and could see them on their big bed. He searched for the available space, his eyes straining in the dark. There was room between the two of them. He picked up the extra pillow that was always at the foot of the bed. He crawled between the two sleeping adults, trying unsuccessfully not to wake them. He managed to squeeze down inside the covers, placing his pillow between his parents' heads. Ryan's arm was suddenly around his shoulder. Misha felt safe and loved. The touch of his father's arm sent feelings of warmth through him. He was safe. Nobody was going to leave him to be by himself, at least not on this night. He quickly fell asleep. ++++++++++++ Much to the chagrin of their sisters, the twins dominated the family dinner table with their excited talk of the first orientation day at the Puget Academy. "Did you make lots of good friends?" Kristy, their mother, asked. "Not yet, but we're working on it," Matthew said. "What's taking you so long?" Michelle said sarcastically. "Right now we're getting to know our table team since we gotta do stuff together," Mark said, ignoring his sister. "Are they nice boys?" Kristy asked. "I guess. But they're weird," Mark said. "You would know," Megan said. "Yeah, two of them got accents. They're from England and Russia," Matthew said. "But the one from Russia doesn't have much of one." "The dude from England sure does." For Scott, Kristy, and the sisters, listening to the twins was sometimes like trying to follow a ping-pong game. "Tomorrow we get to learn about sports at the school," Matthew said. "Yeah, and learn why they suck so bad," Mark said. "The only bad thing is Jeremiah is there," Matthew said. "But, he's not in our class." "Thank you, Lord," Matthew murmured. "Matthew, please be respectful," Kristy said. "I was being respectful. Since when is saying thank you not respectful?" "Was the thanks really necessary?" Kristy asked. "If Jeremiah had been placed in your class, what would you have said then?" "I wouldn't have said nothing," Matthew said. "I would have waited for a chance to give him a bloody nose." "Matthew, please, that is not something to say at the dinner table," Scott said. "Mom asked what I would do, and I couldn't lie to her could I?" All Kristy could do was mutter a quiet "Why me?" as she shoveled a bite of her pork chop into her mouth. Conversation at the dinner table managed to stabilize for awhile as the twins concentrated on their food. While they were still ten year old preteens, they were developing a teenage-sized appetite. However, long periods of silence were not part of their makeup. "I think our table team could be very cool," Mark said out of the blue. "Patrick is only nine and is really smart because he skipped a grade." "And Neville is smart because he's from England," Matthew added. "What does being from England have to do with being smart?" Megan asked. "Everything. The English invented a lot of stuff," Matthew said. "Like what?" Michelle asked. After a momentary silence, Matthew knocked his head with his fist and said, "Like gravity." It was all Scott could do not to spit out the food in his mouth. "Gravity? That is the stupidest thing I ever heard," Michelle said. "Nobody invented gravity. It's a natural thing that's always been there," "Tell that to that Newton guy after the apple fell on his head," Mark said as he defended his brother. "You two are so dumb," Megan said, earning her a glare from both parents. "We have to give our team a name," Matthew said, not surprising anyone at the table by suddenly shifting subjects. "Do you have one in mind?" Kristy asked. "Me and Mattie have decided we're going to be the Fabulous Five," Mark said. "That's because there are five of us," Matthew added in case nobody caught the connection. "And we are fabulous," Mark said. "Fabulous might fit the other three," Michelle said, "but it sure doesn't fit you two." She caught herself before adding the word morons to the end of the sentence. "When we get done we'll all be fabulous," Mark insisted "And it is an alliteration," Matthew said, "and alliterations are cool." Both Scott and Kristy smiled at Matthew's use of alliteration. For all of their seeming nonsense, the twins were a bright pair of boys, even though they often did their best to hide the fact. "Ooohhh, listen to the little boys and their big words," Michelle said. "That's enough Michelle," Kristy said, causing Michelle to go into a brief adolescent sulk. "What if somebody has a different name to propose?" Scott asked. "How will your team decide?" "They'll decide by picking our name," Mark said. "Yeah," Matthew agreed, "nobody will have a better one." "And nobody is going to have an alliteration," Mark said. "Is that a requirement?" Scott asked. "It is with me and Mark," Matthew said. That night, Mark crawled into Matthew's bed. The two ten-year-olds were naked, as they always were when they went to bed. "I wish our lame sisters would still let us go into their bed with them," Matthew said. "Yeah, then they could jerk us off," Mark said. "Or suck us off." "I guess we'll just have to do it to each other." "Do you want to jerk or suck?" "Sucking sounds good." "Do you think Paul will really make us measure our dicks?" Mark asked. "I hope so. That will be fun. We can win all of that other team's credits." "Their guide's name was Curt, right?" "Right," Matthew said. "We need to do one thing different, though." "What?" "Go by our fun names. Everybody needs to call me Mattie." "And Patrick has to be Paddy." "And Mikhail has to be Misha." "And you have to be Mark," Matthew said with a giggle. "What will Neville be?" "He'll be a stuck-up dork." "That means we have to work on him," Mark said. "He's not a butthead like Jeremiah. I think we can make him a friend." "We can make us all friends. Then we really will be the Fabulous Five." "The Fabulous Five," Mark repeated. "I can't wait to tell everybody what our team name will be." He turned and put his lips around his brother's erection. Next: Orientation-Day 2