Date: Sun, 27 Jul 2014 18:47:13 -0700
From: Douglas DD DD <thehakaanen@hotmail.com>
Subject: The Puget Posse  Chapter 22

Greetings. This chapter is about Patrick and his Uncle Roy. His
education begins here, but there will be more to it.

All disclaimers still apply. Please give to the Nifty Archive. Keep the
site alive and well.

Please write. I love hearing from readers. Douglas.
thehakaanen@homail.com.


CHAPTER 22
THE EDUCATION OF A WOMBAT

As September moved into October, the five boys in the Puget Posse
were discovering new things about themselves, about each other,
about their school and some of its students, as well as life in general.
It was a time in which the Posse members managed to find ways to
bond while at the same time not always feeling comfortable about
each other. It was also a time for growing friendships, both within and
outside the Posse.  It would take time for the Posse to evolve, but the
individual paths taken by the five members, as they worked to get into
the routine of the Puget Academy ,would have a great deal to do with
that evolution.

<Patrick's Book>

"Are you ready for your big game tomorrow?" Will asked as he sat
next to Patrick on the bus. It was Friday morning and both boys had
their thoughts on weekend soccer, especially Patrick as his
undefeated Kickers would be playing the undefeated Lake Monsters
of the twins.

"I think so," Patrick said.

Mark leaned forward over the seat and said, "He thinks he's ready
and we know we're ready. Hat trick time."

"You guys sure are a lot of talk," Will said.

"Talk plus action equals a win," Matthew said.

"Where did you hear that?" Patrick asked.

"I just made it up."

When the twins arrived at Patrick's house that morning, they talked
about their game of show-and-tell the evening before, but very little
was said about soccer.

But now that they were all on the bus, the subject of soccer was
heating up. Mark and Matthew were much better at talking smack
than the younger Patrick, but Patrick wasn't shy about kicking in his
opinion.

"Your whole team isn't going to get a hat trick." Patrick said. "Carter
and me are too good at goal keeping."

"You two haven't seen us play yet," Matthew said.

"You guys should shut-up and make a bet," Will told the twins.

"Twenty credits," Mark said.

"Each," Patrick said, doing the math in his head.

"That means you'd make forty credits if you won," Mark said. "And
we'd only get ten each."

"Sounds like you guys are scared you won't win," Will said.

"No way are we scared, but the bet has to be fair."

"How about the loser has to take his whole bus ride with his dick out
of his pants," Will suggested, "then everybody loses equal."

"Mrs. Deaver would freak," Mark said.

"You can cover it up with something," Will said, wanting to have
something naughty happening while not wanting anyone to get
caught. "Your dick just has to be out of your pants."

"I'll do it," Patrick said, confident that he and Carter wouldn't give up
three goals and liking the idea of being a little bit nasty on the bus, no
matter who won.

"If Patrick will do it, then we will do it, too," Mark said as Matthew
nodded in agreement.

"Will you tell Carter about the bet?" Matthew asked.

"No. He's a better goalie than me and he'll do his best. I'll tell him we
need to not let you score more than two goals, but he knows that."

"I wish I could watch your game, but we're playing at McKenna Field
the same time you guys play," Will said.

Patrick and the twins shook hands over the bet at the same time the
bus stopped to pick up Jeremiah and Tony. Jeremiah leaned into the
two seats and said, "You guys betting who's got the biggest dick?
You should already know after your big challenge. You'd lose to me
anyway." He sneered at Patrick, as if to remind him that the two of
them had a deal regarding the twins and Patrick had better remember
the importance of keeping his mouth shut.

"Jeremiah, sit yourself in a seat now," Mrs. Deaver commanded.
Jeremiah gave the group a knowing look and sat next to Tony a
couple of rows back.

"He is so totally stupid," Will said. "Nobody outside of Tony really likes
him."

"What about Alden?" Mark asked.

"Who's he?"

"Just somebody weird," Mark said, deciding not to go any further.
Alden, who had been Jeremiah's shadow during baseball season,
had become very quiet, which Mark and Matthew both thought was
very strange.

Saturday's game ended up being a thriller. Patrick was informed
before the game started that Carter had twisted his ankle at recess
the day before and would miss the game. The coach told him that
because of the importance of the game he would be playing both
halves as the keeper. While each player had to play on the field for a
certain number of minutes, unlike the recreation programs the select
league had no rule saying the player couldn't play the same position
for the entire game.

Patrick was excited about the fact that the whole game was literally in
his hands. He didn't think about the side bet until later when he
realized he wouldn't have to depend on Carter to help him win the
bet.

In the first half, Patrick twice took almost sure goals away from
Matthew. Once, Matthew was ready to celebrate until a green blur
dove at the ball and caught it before it crossed the goal line. The
Kickers scored not long after, but Mark tied the game just before half-
time when Matthew gave him a perfect feed and he pummeled the
ball past a diving Patrick.

Patrick noted that Carter was on hand watching the game, sitting in a
lawn chair on the south end of the field. Patrick and the twins also
noted that Misha was at the game, walking the sidelines and rooting
for the Posse members on both teams.

In the second half, Patrick robbed Mark once as well as a couple of
other players, but Matthew kicked a hard shot toward the goal that
Patrick barely got his finger tips on. He knew Carter, with his longer
arms would probably have saved the goal, but for all of his quickness,
Patrick was simply too small to get to the ball. The goal gave the
Lake Monsters a 2-1 lead.

The Kickers tied the game late in the second half when the Lake
Monster goalie failed to handle a ball hit almost directly at him and let
it go through his hands and into the net. The game ended in a 2-2 tie.

As the players walked the traditional handshake line, the twins and
Patrick exchanged high fives. "Me and Mattie each beat you once,"
Mark said. Mark was still allowed to call Matthew, Mattie, at least for
now.

"At least we tied you," Patrick said.

"I wish we could have shootouts at the end," Mark said.

"Yeah, ties are like kissing the goalie," Matthew said, leaving Patrick
confused about what he meant.

Misha came up to Patrick. "Hello, Patrick. Nice game."

"We should have won it. We had lots of chances to score."

"That happens in football...I mean in soccer. You were good in the
goal."

"Mark and Matthew got goals against me."

"They did not get goals against you. There are ten other players on
your team. They scored against your team not just against you,"
Misha waxed philosophically. "Soccer is a team sport. It is not like
chess or tennis where it is only you."

"Thanks for coming to watch us," Patrick said, cheered a little by
Misha's pep talk. More importantly, he was impressed by Misha's
ability to express himself. He found himself liking the Russian boy
even more.

"I had fun," Misha said. What he didn't say was that he was beginning
to wish he played in a higher league, like Patrick and the twins, where
the competition was more up to his level.

Patrick joined his teammates for the team's postgame meeting. The
coach reminded them they had practice on Monday and a game on
Wednesday. He told them they had played well against a very good
team and that they should be pleased with themselves.

After the meeting, Patrick finally joined his waiting family. Grannana,
Uncle Ted, and his father were there, of course. But so were his
Uncle Roy and his Grand Pop, Brian's father, who drove up from
Mayfield to watch both his game and Roy's football game.

"Great game, kid," Roy said as he mussed his nephew's short hair as
much as it could be mussed.

"Coach said we should be happy that we played good," Patrick said.
"We got a tie against a good team."

"You're a good team, too," said Grand Pop. "Tying is about as good
as kissing your sister; not really much to it." Grand Pop, whose given
name was Michael, was the Irishman in the family as well as the
family curmudgeon. He was also an open-hearted, generous, loving
man whom Patrick adored. Patrick wondered what kissing your sister
had to do with kissing the goalie, but decided not to ask a stupid
question.

"Where are we going to eat?" Patrick asked.

"How old did you say you were?" Grand Pop asked.

"I'm nine," Patrick said proudly.

"Good Lord. Only nine years old and already you have a hollow leg.
Do you think of anything other than food?"

"I like soccer and music and reading and..."

"Sorry, I asked. How does going to IHOP sound?"

"Goodie. I love their pancakes."

Within a half hour they were all seated at a large table at a nearby
IHOP. Patrick made sure he was sitting between his Uncle Roy and
his Grand Pop, the two visiting relatives.

"Did you guys win your football game last night?" Patrick asked Roy,
who was a senior in high school.

"Barely," Roy said. "It was 23-21 and a really tough game."

"But you guys slugged your way through," Grand Pop said. He'd gone
to Roy's football game the night before, spending the night in a motel.
He had little use for Irene, who was his ex-wife and Brian and Roy's
mother. Even though Brian's half-brother wasn't a blood relative of
Michael's, he treated him as if he were. "The refs sure didn't help you
none on that pass interference call."

Patrick then proceeded to talk their ears off between bites, both of
them accepting the chatter with amused tolerance. "I get to spend the
night after I watch you play, right?" he finally asked Roy.

"You can spend both nights if your mean old father lets you."

"Friday and Saturday?" Roy nodded. His head jerked right into his
father's line of vision. "Can I dad? Please, can I? I want to stay with
Roy so bad!"

"I need to talk to your uncle first," Brian said. "I'll let you know before
we leave, fair enough?"

"No. I want to know now!"

"Paddy, behave like a gentleman," came Maxine's stern voice.

"Good advice. How about you calming down some and finishing your
meal. If I say yes, I'm sure Roy doesn't want to put up with a little
monkey jumping all over the place. We both know you can behave
better." Patrick looked properly chagrined as he apologized to
everybody.

Brian asked Roy to step out of the restaurant with him. Both Patrick
and Michael were dying to follow them and listen in, but for different
reasons.

"Patrick will be fine," Roy said as he and Brian stood outside. "Him
and I get along great and he always behaves with me."

"Sure he does," Brian said, "because you always see him at our
house where you have me, Ted, and Grannana for support if he gets
carried away. But that's not the issue with me."

"Then what is?"

"You know what. SHE is the issue," Brian said, referring to their
mother. "I do not want my son spending two days with HER." Brian
had even less use for Irene than his father did. She had abandoned
the two of them when he was young and he'd never forgiven her for
that. Nor had he forgiven her for being a bitch at the rare times he
had seen her in the intervening years.

"Well, HER and dad are going away for the weekend to some lake
place across the mountains where mom won a two-night stay.
They're leaving as soon as they get off work."

"So, they'll be missing your football game."

"Won't be the first time."

"What do you plan on feeding him?"

"Mom and dad are leaving me plenty of money. Getting take-out
always works for dinner. I figured you were going to feed him coming
up to the game on Friday."

From there the two brothers worked out the details, with Brian giving
Roy an extra twenty dollars just in case. "How are you keeping him
entertained?"

"You're the one who gave me a teaching assignment."

"Just don't go overboard," Brian said.

"I won't go no farther than you did when I was nine."

"Shit, I said don't go overboard," Brian squawked. Roy laughed at
Brian's reaction. "Patrick is a very sensitive boy."

"And I wasn't?"

"You were a tough guy pain in the ass, even at nine."

"And I still am at seventeen."

They went back inside the restaurant. Patrick was so nervous he was
bouncing in his seat.

"Glad you're back," Michael said. "I thought the boy was going to
injure his head on the ceiling he was bouncing so high."

"Grand Pop, nobody can bounce that high."

"Great goalies can, which was why I was watching that ceiling real
careful like."

Patrick grinned and popped the big question: "Well, can I stay?"

"Yes," Brian said.

Patrick almost did hit the ceiling as he bounced out of his chair.
"Yippee."

"But you have to do everything your uncle tells you." That brought a
leer to Roy's face. "And that includes doing your homework Saturday
afternoon, since we have Sunday plans after you get home."

"Yes, I'll do whatever you say," Patrick told Roy. Brian knew that
unlike most nine-year-olds, Patrick would most likely fulfill that
promise.

The following week flew by for Patrick. One thing he thought was
going to happen that week didn't, but he wasn't surprised by the lack
of action.

On Monday morning, the twins were dropped off at Patrick's house
fifteen minutes earlier than usual, which was about a half hour before
the bus was due. Patrick was eating breakfast in the dining room
when they arrived.

"Hey, Patrick," Mark called out as they came into the dining room.
Maxine had let them enter through the mudroom and into the kitchen
as she usually did.

"Hi," Patrick said after swallowing a mouthful of eggs.

"How come you're not naked?" Matthew asked. Patrick was wearing
a tattered sweatshirt, socks, and nothing else.

"Sometimes the house is kind of cool in the morning, so I wear this,"
he said, pointing at his sweatshirt.

"Makes sense," Mark said, "even if naked is best."

"Nice looking breakfast," Matthew said, surveying the plate of fried
eggs, bacon, and toast. "All we got was cold cereal and toast."

"It was enough," Mark said.

"Yeah, but having that breakfast would have me loaded with energy."

"As if you don't have enough energy already," Maxine called out from
the kitchen, reminding the boys she could hear what they were
saying, which didn't slow them down much.

"That was a pretty good game on Saturday," Mark said.

"My Grand Pop said that a tie is like kissing your sister," Patrick said,
"and you guys said it was like kissing the goalie. I don't get it." Patrick
felt comfortable revealing his lack of knowledge to the twins. They
were always comfortable answering him and explained things as well
as they could.

"I think it means that it isn't really exciting," Mark said.

"Yeah," Matthew said, "but maybe kissing the goalie is exciting."

"Maybe more exciting than kissing our sisters," Mark said.

"The tie was more exciting than sister kissing."

"You guys kissed your sisters?" Patrick asked.

"Sure, why not?" Mark said. "We gotta learn somewhere."

Patrick wanted to tell them he thought that kissing your sister was
gross, but he also knew in his own way that the twins marched to
their own drummer, so he let it go. Instead, he asked why they were
early.

"We wanted to talk to you about something," Mark said.

"Okay." Patrick sopped up the leftover egg yolk with his toast.

Mark nodded his head toward the kitchen. "But in your bedroom," he
whispered.

After Patrick finished his last bites of breakfast, they went to his
bedroom. He pulled off the sweatshirt, and was now naked except for
his socks.

"You got a nice butt," Mark said. "Nicer than Matthew's."

"Hey, my butt is exactly like yours," Matthew said.

"Then his is nicer than both of ours."

"Maybe," Matthew admitted.

Patrick's butt wasn't on display for long, as he pulled on a pair of red
briefs with white trim. "You said you wanted to talk."

"Yeah," Mark said. "But first we want to kiss the goalie before you get
all dressed."

"You want to kiss me?"

"Just to see what's better: kissing our sister, kissing the other team's
goalie, or having a tie," Matthew said.

"But I'm a boy."

"We sorta figured that out," Mark said.

"So, kiss me if you're okay with it," Patrick said.

Mark and then Matthew kissed their friend. Neither kiss was much of
a kiss, just a peck on the lips. It was less than what they'd done with
their sisters and was far less than what they'd done with Cindy and
Stacy. Patrick and the twins found the kisses unsatisfactory. Since it
was Patrick's first kiss, he couldn't help but wonder what all the fuss
regarding kissing was about. None of the three preteens boned up or
even had a surge of hormones. Mark and Matthew wished they had
made their kiss a real kiss instead of a peck.

"That was it?" Patrick asked, not bothering to hide his
disappointment.

"Yeah, because you're a boy," Mark said, hinting that there was more
to the kissing business than what Patrick had just experienced.

"What was the best?"

"Playing soccer!" the twins exclaimed. In their minds, kissing Cindy
and Stacy was a bit more competitive with soccer than kissing their
sisters or Patrick.

While Patrick dressed, Mark said they had one more thing to say
regarding the soccer game. "It's about the bet," he said.

"You don't have to do it," Patrick said. "It's okay if you don't."

"When we make a bet, it's a bet," Mark said.

"Yeah, we aren't welchers...I think that's the right word," Matthew
added.

"We just don't want to do it right away. We want to have a plan so we
don't get caught."

"You just put your coat over your lap," Patrick said. "I don't care how
you do it."

"That's boring," Matthew said. "We want to make it more exciting than
kissing your sister or kissing the goalie." Little did he know at the time
how exciting kissing a goalie could be.

"Plus, we don't want to do it when Jeremiah and Tony are on the bus
unless we have to," Mark said.

"They might be on it every day," Patrick said.

"We'll do it with them there if we have to," Mark repeated.

"Yeah, I bet they'll miss days," Matthew said.

"And we'll have our plan ready if they do."

Patrick was in agreement with whatever the twins decided. The bet
had been Will's idea anyway. He was pretty certain he would have
followed through right away if he'd lost. But, once again he realized
the twins did things in their own way.

Tuesday was the lunch meeting they'd agreed on. Once again the
Posse looked to little Patrick to take charge, and he wasn't shy about
doing so. They all wished they could meet in the student council room
in the basement where it was quieter and more private. The Posse
noticed that Patrick had brought a loose-leaf binder with him.

"Does everybody have their name picked?" Patrick asked. They all
said they'd picked an animal name for themselves, and they were all
curious as to what everyone else had picked.

"We'll give ours first," Mark said.

"Yeah, we're Bobcat," Matthew said.

"Both of you?" Neville asked.

"I'm Bobcat One and Mattie...," he stopped when a cough interrupted
him. "Excuse me, Matthew, is Bobcat Two."

"How will we tell the difference?" Neville asked.

"The same way you do now," Mark said matter-of-factly.

"Our mom calls us Thing Number One and Thing Number Two
because we're always in trouble," Matthew said.

"We're not always in trouble," Mark said.

"Yeah, we're only in trouble most of the time."

"And you can tell who is number one and who is number two because
it's in alphabetical order," Mark said.

"That was a very big help," Neville said with more than a touch of
sarcasm.

"Why are you bobcats?" Patrick asked.

"Because of S to the fourth," Matthew said.

Patrick took the bait. "S to the fourth?"

"Small, Strong, Swift, Smart. That's us." Nobody could argue that
point with them.

"Yeah, plus we're a kind of cat, and cats are noble animals."

That had everyone looking at Misha.

"I am going to be Wolverine," Misha said. Knowing he was going to
be asked why, he went right into his reason. "There are many
wolverines in Russia and they are very wild and very fierce. Nobody
pushes a wolverine around."

"I don't think you're fierce, Misha. I think you're really nice," Patrick
said.

Misha blushed and said, "In the Russian orphanage, you must let
everyone that know nobody...um...I think it is, messes with you."

"Then you are the Wolverine," Mark said. "He is a super hero, too."

"Neville, do you want to be next?"

"It is me or you, so I will go next," Neville said. "I will be The Fox.
Foxes are very smart and very sly."

"That makes you last, Patrick," Mark said. "I bet I know what animal
you will be, but I'll let you say it."

"I'm going to be The Wombat," Patrick said proudly.

"Is that stuffed animal you had in your room a wombat?" Mark asked,
knowing what the answer was.

"Why are you a wombat?" Misha asked.

"Because I liked wombats since I was really little, so that's what I get
called at home. I looked up lots of stuff about wombats." He opened
the binder. "This is the stuff I looked up about them since I learned
how to use a computer." He set the folder in front of Mark, who
started flipping through it. Each page was in a plastic sheath. There
were articles on wombats, photographs of wombats, as well as some
drawings of wombats.

"Whoa, did you draw that picture?" Mark asked.

"Yep."

"When you were just, like, a little kid?"

"No, I did it last year."

"It's really good."

"Let me see," Matthew said, and Mark slid the book over to him.

"I do not know anything about wombats," Neville said.

"They live in holes that they dig, are vegetarians, and their shit is
square" Patrick told them. He waited for the giggling to stop and then
went on. "But they can run really fast if they have to. They aren't
animals that fight, but they will if they have to. When they fight, they
fight really hard."

"Wow," Matthew said. "We have a smart, sly animal. We have a
smart and strong cat. And we have a really tough fighting animal.
They are all animals you better not mess with."

"Perfect for our Posse," Mark said.

"I think we have very good animal names," Misha said.

While nobody on The Posse knew where the whole animal naming
process would end up, if anywhere, all five of them were pleased at
having accomplished something together.

Tuesday after school was another school soccer practice. The more
experienced boys once again helped the less experienced and skilled
boys.

The Kickers had a game on Wednesday. Patrick learned in his
Monday practice that Carter would be sitting out one more game, but
the coach had time to give the team's number three goal keeper
some practice. As a result, Patrick only played the first half in the
goal. He played part of the second half at forward. The Kickers ended
up with a 4-1 win. Kerry, the back-up goalie, let in the opponent's lone
goal.

On Thursday, the Puget Academy Pelicans lost 4-3 to Everett Day
school. Once again they'd showed improvement over the previous
week, but didn't have a win to show for it. Coach Walsh was amazed
at how much they were accomplishing even with only one practice a
week. The highlight of the game for the Pelicans might have been
Ellis actually getting a shot on the goal. It was an easy stop for the
goal keeper, but the entire team cheered because Ellis had gotten off
a kick that went where he wanted it to go. Being under the guidance
of the twins had done nothing but help Ellis's standing with his peers.

Friday was a big day for Patrick, who headed north with his father to
watch his Uncle Roy play football. Roy's team ended up with a fairly
easy 28-9 win. Roy, who played running back as well as defensive
back, rushed for 101 yards. After the game, Brian dropped Patrick off
with Roy.

"You behave yourself," Brian said.

"I told you I would," Patrick said.

"I wasn't talking about you, Wombat, I was talking about your uncle."

"I won't do anything you said I couldn't do," Roy said.

"That leaves the field pretty wide open."

Roy gave his brother a wide grin as Brian mussed Patrick's hair and
gave him a big hug. Brian hated the silence of his house the rare
times Patrick did an overnight.

"I'll see you Sunday. Did you remember your books?"

"I have them in my backpack, dad. You saw me pack them," Patrick
said with a huff.

"Just making sure." Brian left Roy and Patrick in the school parking lot
and left for home.

"Want to get some pizza with my friends on the team?" Roy asked his
nephew. Patrick's grin was all the answer he needed.

Roy was the last of the group to arrive at Sabatini's Pizza. Seven of
his teammates had procured a couple of tables in the corner of a side
room and called out to him.

"So, this is your nephew?" Elijah asked. Elijah was a hulking, African-
American lineman. "You didn't tell us he was so little." Elijah stuck out
his hand and Patrick returned a good firm handshake as he'd been
taught. "Nice grip. The name's Elijah, but my friends call me E."

Patrick flashed his winning smile and said, "My name is Patrick and
my friends call me Patrick." Elijah was impressed that the young boy
didn't shy away. He liked the kid right from the start. Patrick had no
problem getting to know Roy's friends.

"Do you play football?" Vic, another friend, asked.

"He looks kind of small for football," Elijah said.

"Unless you make him the ball," Lou said.

"I play soccer," Patrick told them. "I'm a goal keeper."

"Sweet," John said. "My little brother plays soccer. Hell, I played it
when I was little, too."

Patrick listened intently as the players ate pizza and talked football.
Sometimes he was brought into the conversation and sometimes he
jumped in on his own. It was a good evening of talking and munching.

"I guess I better get the little munchkin home and into bed," Roy
finally said.

"Yeah, I bet you'd love to get him into bed, you dirty old uncle," Lou
said.

"Lou, that is just totally gross," Anthony said. "He's just a little kid.
Your mind belongs in the fucking gutter."

"I was just saying, isn't that what uncles are supposed to do?"

"Speak for yourself, Lou," Roy said. "The plan is to read him a
bedtime story and get him to sleep."

"Oh, they have `Little Red Riding Hood' in porn now?" Howie said.

"You are all sick." Roy said. "And Patrick can hear everything you're
saying."

"It's never too early to find out what his uncle is really like," Lou said.
"After all, we all know what you're capable of, and we ain't talking
football," which elicited a roar of laughter from the group.

"'Bye guys." Roy couldn't help but laugh with his friends. He took
Patrick's hand and led him out of the pizza parlor.

"You guys look really sweet holding hands like that," Lou yelled after
them to another round of laughter. The customers in the main section
of the restaurant looked at the group like they'd lost their minds; then
decided it was only teens being teens.

"Your friends are funny," Patrick said as he buckled himself into the
backseat of the car. "I like them."

"Crazy and weird is more like it," Roy said.

"Just like you," Patrick said, giggling.

"Oh, you are so doomed when we get to my house," Roy said, which
got Patrick to giggling even harder.

When they got to Roy's house, Patrick dropped his backpack on the
couch. It contained fresh underwear and t-shirts, his toilet kit, and the
books he needed. "You need to hire a truck to carry that thing," Roy
said. "It's almost as big as you are."

"I can hire your football team if they're strong enough."

"You are one doomed Wombat."

"You gotta catch me first," Patrick giggled as he shed his coat onto
the floor.

Roy let Patrick have some fun by just missing him a few times, but he
finally grabbed the laughing boy, lifted him up, and set him on the
floor, straddling his young body without putting his full weight on it.

"I think I caught you," Roy said.

"What are you going to do, be my dirty old uncle?" Patrick asked.

"I'm going to drop you into bed and read you dirty bedtime stories."

"Are you going to teach me nasty stuff like you said?"

"Maybe."

"You promised."

"I know, but I might decide to tickle you to death first."

"No, don't tickle me," Patrick squeaked.

That was an open invitation to Roy as his fingers found Patrick's
abdomen and started to work. The young boy wiggled and jiggled but
to no avail; Roy had him and he knew it. The boy was laughing
hysterically, fighting for breath, while his big teen uncle tickled him
unmercifully. His fingers found their way under Patrick's t-shirt and he
started tickling bare skin, which had Patrick laughing so hard he was
crying.

"Stop, stop, stop! I'm gonna pee my pants," he managed to choke out
between fits of laughter.

"Just don't leak on the carpet."

"Nooo, you gotta stop."

Not wanting to embarrass his young nephew, at least not yet, he
relented and allowed the boy to get his breath back. "That was crazy,"
Patrick said. "I thought I was going to pee my pants for sure."

Roy put his hand back on Patrick's tummy and started rubbing it.

"Don't tickle me again," Patrick begged.

"I won't," Roy whispered. "I'm trying to help calm you down. Does this
feel good?"

"It tickles a little."

Roy grabbed the bottom of Patrick's shirt. "Sit up so I can take this
off." Patrick obeyed and was quickly shirtless.

"You have a nice body," Roy said as he took in Patrick's pale torso.
The nine-year-old was thin, but not skinny. He had the body of an
active, athletic boy. His skin was smooth and devoid of even the
slightest hint of hair. Roy rubbed his hand lightly along Patrick's chest
and belly, his touch changing from tickles to feelings young Patrick
couldn't even begin to describe. Roy could tell things had changed for
his nephew simply from the purring noise he was making, a far cry
from the howls and laughter of just a few minutes ago.

Nothing is perfect, however, not even a seduction by a favorite uncle.
"Uncle Gerbil, I still have to go pee."

Roy sighed. "Okay, Sir Wombat, I guess you better take care of
business."

Patrick got up from the floor and headed to the bathroom. Roy sat on
the couch and kicked off his shoes. He decided that as long as
Patrick was shirtless, he might as well remove his own shirt. As soon
as he had tossed it on the floor, he received a text from Lou.

"U got ur hand in his pants yet? Bwahahahahahaha. dirty uncle."

Roy's reply was curt and to the point. "up urs"

There was also a text from Howie. "got the boi naked? we know u
want him"

"shirts off," he texted back, "but don't get any ideas"

Roy and the group he met with at the pizza parlor considered
themselves to be straight. However, they had been enjoying each
other's bodies since they were eleven and twelve and harbored no
guilt feelings about it. They had all taken it up the ass before they
reached fourteen and each of them had gone all the way with a girl
before he was sixteen. Sexual banter between them was common
and there were few limits. Roy knew his friends were more than just
kidding him—they knew he was going to be the dirty uncle in some
way or other that night. As if in answer to their thoughts, he wondered
if he should find a way to hide the pulsing erection that was tenting
out his jeans before Patrick returned.

Before he could pick up his shirt to cover up his crotch, Patrick
returned to the living room. Roy couldn't help but admire the boy's
body. He stood at four foot one, weighing an even sixty pounds.
There was almost no flab on him. His face was radiant and his blue
eyes full of life. His short hair always looked like it wanted to grow out
longer and be properly messy.

Roy's erection seemed to get even harder in his pants when he saw
what Patrick had done. He had left the button on his jeans open. His
zipper was pulled up just enough to maintain adequate tension to
prevent his pants from sliding down his slim hips. The waistband and
most of the front of his white briefs were exposed and Roy could see
the bulge of a boyish erection.

There was now no doubt in Roy's mind that his nephew was eager for
something to happen between the two of them that night. His plan
had been to jerk off and let Patrick see what masturbation was about.
Then on the second night they might indulge in some mutual
masturbation. But things were already moving beyond his plans.

"Uncle Gerbil, you took off your shirt. You've got big muscles." Patrick
sat next to Roy and ran his hand up his uncle's chest. "You even
have some hair on your chest. Dad and Uncle Ted have lots of hair
there."

"I will, too, when I get a little older."

"I liked what you were doing to me," Patrick said as he removed his
shoes. "But I had to pee really bad."

"Come sit closer to me," Roy said. Patrick scooted over until their legs
and bodies touched. Roy draped his arm around his nephew and
started rubbing his soft, hairless chest. He slowly twirled his fingers
around each of his small pink nipples, causing Patrick to once again
start purring.

"Lie across my lap," Roy whispered. Patrick shifted himself so the
back of his head was pressing against Roy's hard teen shaft.

"Is that a boner?" Patrick asked.

"How do you know about boners?"

"I get them and my friends get them. I told you I play with mine."

Roy said nothing, letting his hand slide down Patrick's bare abdomen
and down to the waistband of his white briefs. He rubbed along the
waistband, slowly slipping his index finger inside the briefs.

"Are you going to touch my pecker?" Patrick asked.

"If it's okay." Roy said hoarsely.

"It's okay."

Roy's hand went in a little deeper and he struck the head of Patrick's
hard little penis. Patrick squeaked. He'd been touched down there
before, but never in such an overtly sexual way. This was what he
wanted from his teen uncle and more. Roy some the little stick some
with the tip of his finger, then stopped and removed his hand from
Patrick's underpants.

"Lift up your butt." Once again Patrick obeyed. Roy tried to remove
the boy's jeans, but didn't succeed until Patrick helped him. The nine-
year-old was now clad in only his briefs and socks. His two plus
inches of boyhood was pushing out the front of his tightly fitting
underpants.

Patrick moaned when Roy started stroking him through the cotton of
the briefs. He felt like he was in heaven. Roy had a brief moment of
guilt as he realized he was about to take away Patrick's innocence.
His nephew was just a little older he had been when his brother
Brian, Patrick's father, had taken him to bed. Roy didn't harbor a
moment's regret over what had ensued.

Granted he was a lot wilder when he was nine than his nephew was,
but they both shared the same love of nudity at that age. Patrick also
seemed to harbor the same sexual curiosity that he'd had. Roy shook
off his thoughts and pulled down his nephew's briefs, which the boy
kicked off. Patrick was now naked except for his socks.

"You gotta get naked, too," Patrick said.

"Get up and I will." Roy pulled off his pants and boxers in a hurry,
exposing seven inches of hard teen cock.

"That thing is humungous," Patrick said as he sat next to his uncle.
He reached out for it, then remembered what his father had told him
about respecting people's private parts. He pulled back his hand.
"Can I touch it?" he asked with sincere innocence.

"Go for it."

Patrick wrapped his hand around the thick slab of teen meat, causing
his uncle to moan with pleasure. Even though Patrick's touch was a
bit rough and unschooled, it was also something very special.

Roy placed two fingers around Patrick's cocklet and stroked it
sensuously. Patrick let out periodic squeaks. He forgot all about
Roy's cock as all of his attention focused on his own. Multi-tasking
was simply out of the question.

Roy could feel Patrick tensing up. His little cock swelled up some, His
tight little balls moved in even tighter. His squeaks started to become
one long squeak. "Uncle, I'm feeling something," he managed to
croak out. "Is it an orgasm?"

"Shhh, just let it happen."

It didn't take long for it to happen. Patrick shuddered, let out a high
pitched scream almost capable of breaking glass, and Roy felt his
nephew's little boy cock spasm out of control between his fingers.

"Ohhh..ohhh...ohhhhhhh," Patrick yelled as he arched his back and
pushed his cocklet through his uncle's fingers, his first orgasm a
mind-blowing, body-quaking, penis-ripping combination of sensations.
He finally collapsed against Roy's strong chest, breathing hard as he
tried to control his shakes.

"Wombat, you came hard!"

Patrick took a deep breath. "Is that feeling why people have sex?"

"Yes it is."

"And if I keep playing with my dickey I can do it to myself?"

"It probably won't be as strong, but yes, you can do it almost any time
you want."

"I will never stop masturbating early again. Thank you, Uncle Roy."

"It was my pleasure, as well as yours."

"Are you going to finish yours?"

"Unless you want to finish it."

"I want to watch you do it and learn how."

Roy started stroking himself. "It works differently for me because I'm
bigger, but the idea is the same."

"What's the wet stuff coming out?"

"That's precum. It helps big boys and men get, like, lubricated for
sex."

Patrick nodded as if he understood. He lay back and watched his
uncle go to work. Although he didn't go back to masturbating, he kept
his hand on his cocklet because it felt good. Roy stroked himself
quickly, his fist flying along his long, thick teen cock, a cock that was
man-sized. Patrick watched him with fascination. He knew that his
uncle was going to squirt out sperm. Patrick was naïve, not ignorant.
He could hardly wait to see it flow out.

"Oh, fuck, Wombat, here it comes. I'm gonna shoot." His fist rubbed
his cockhead hard, he uttered a string of obscenities, and his first
blast of cum blew out of his erection, landing just under his chin. The
next two hit his chest, and then three more shot out lower, with the
last one dropping into his thick pubic hair.

"Wow, it shoots out. I thought it came out like pee. That was way too
cool." Patrick was now on a road he couldn't leave. He'd gone from
incredibly curious about sex to being smitten by sex. Only his own
immaturity would keep him from being obsessed by it, at least for the
time being. "That's a lot of spermies. I can't wait until I can make
them."

"Two or three more years," Roy said. He took a scoop of cum from
his chest and licked it off his fingers. "Do you want to try it?" he asked
his nephew.

"Does it taste gross?"

"I just ate some, didn't I?"

That was a good enough answer for Patrick. He took the wad on
Roy's belly and licked it cautiously off of his hand. "That's not as
gross as I thought," he grinned at his uncle.

"When you start giving blow jobs, your partner will love it when you
swallow his cum. And when girls start doing you, then you have to
train them to be as good as you are."

"Girls are gnarly. I don't want sex with girls."

"Oh, you will, little guy, you will. Just wait three or four more years."

"Uh, uh. Never."

"Wow, it's almost midnight. Your dad would kill me if he knew I kept
you up so late." It didn't sound strange to either boy that Roy was
more concerned about keeping Patrick up late than he was about
having seduced his young nephew.

"Can I sleep with you, Uncle Gerbil? Please, oh please, can I?"

"That was my plan."

"Yippee."

After brushing their teeth and cleaning up some, Roy and Patrick
climbed into Roy's queen size bed, naked of course.

"Uncle, have you ever given anybody a blow job?"

"I've given lots of them."

"Cool. Does that mean that you're gay?"

"Nope, because I'm not gay. It just means I've given guys blow jobs."

"Are you going to give me one?"

"Go to sleep, Wombat."

Patrick wanted to beg Roy to give him an answer, but he was so tired
he never got the chance. His eyes blinked shut and they stayed shut
as he fell instantly to sleep.

Before falling asleep, Roy checked his texts again. "did he like ur
cum?" Elijah asked. "ur mind is beyond filthy, but yeah." He sent it,
smiled, and cuddled up to his little nephew.

Next: Sly and Fierce