Date: Fri, 23 Oct 1998 19:51:44 PDT
From: Charlie <charlieje@mindspring.com>
Subject: Kenny 1, first of a multipart series called Kenny (young-friends)

This is a story about a love between two young boys. The usual
disclaimers apply: If you are under the age of 18, or reading such
material is illegal in your jurisdiction, then please leave this story
unread now. There are within the story explicit descriptions of
sex between boys, but that is not the main theme; so if your thing
is reading stories that are purely sex in nature then this story will
probably not be to your liking.

The story is made up of both fact and fantasy. The people herein
are real, but their names have been changed. The rest of the
story, as I said, is a mixture of fact and fantasy... perhaps how I
wish it had happened. As to what is fact and what isn't, I shall
keep that to myself. As usual, comments and suggestions are
welcome; flames will be ignored.

				   Kenny
				  Part  1

It was the fourth day of the new school year when I first saw him.  My
reaction took me completely by surprise and feelings coursed through my
body that I had never felt before, and didn't even begin to understand
them. But before I go into detail I must tell a little about myself, so you
can fully understand what was going on in my brain.

I grew up in a smallish city in eastern Canada in the fifties, totally
oblivious to sex and all it had to offer. My mom was extremely old
fashioned, having the very strong belief that children simply did not need
to know about sex until they were getting ready to marry. The term "gay,"
in those days, simply meant happy or joyous. Oh, I had heard the terms
"queer," cocksucker," or "homo," and knew in general terms what they meant;
but my understanding was all wrong: These people, in my mind, were totally
sick, and to be avoided at all costs. To me the terms referred only to the
mechanical act of oral sex and had nothing whatsoever to attraction or
love. Boy was I wrong!

I'd had a few brief encounters before, with boys my age or younger, but
these amounted to touching, and once or twice actually sucking, but we were
too young to orgasm even if we'd known such a thing existed, so had to be
content with the good feelings that came from our actions on each other. I
had also had two or three crushes on cute little girls, but they never
lasted long and I had never had the courage to tell any of them how I felt.

I was now 14, and in an "accelerated" program at school, meaning that I had
skipped a year (well, actually took two years in one) and was in the
eleventh grade. My Mom had thought I was just about the most wonderful
thing ever to grace the earth, but by the time I was 12 she was pretty well
an invalid and although I loved her dearly, she was not much of an ally for
me.  My dad, on the other hand, was too busy chasing women to even know if
I was alive or dead. If I brought home a report card that had 6 A's and one
A- or (God forbid!) a B, I got hell, and usually a beating, for the bad
grades. Come to think of it, I got beatings for almost everything, but that
is another story. The good part of my mom's illness was that Dad simply
wasn't around much.

Well, enough of that and on with the story.

We were just finishing up History class, the last period of the day, when
he came bounding into the room and deposited his books directly on the seat
behind the one I had just vacated. The was evidently his home room, and
therefore I knew that he was also in the accelerated program, because this
had been my home room last year. But as I said, I was totally unprepared
for my reaction to him.

He stood about five feet 1 inch, about 3 inches shorter than I was; his
skin was dark, looking like a deep tan. His hair was black and cut short as
was the style of the day, and perfectly manicured. His face had a rugged
softness to it that eluded to an intelligent but gentle boy. To top it off,
he wore dark brown corduroy pants and a dark green sport shirt. I
absolutely LOVED corduroy pants, and they looked so comfortable on him!
(Remember, this was in 1952, when almost no one wore jeans to school). He
seemed to have a perpetual smile on his face, and when he talked or laughed
his voice warbled between the baritone of a teenager and the soprano of a
small boy. I was totally mesmerized by his beauty.

I found myself staying in that history class until he arrived each
day... Watching him, trying to learn more about him. I started having
fantasies about him, imagining that he was my brother. I guess
subconsciously I had concluded that if I had a brother, I would not be so
lonely at home.

In my fantasies the boy's name was Robbie, and we were inseparable
brothers. We shared a room, and even a bed; we shared our clothes, the
immaculate clothes that Robbie always wore. There was some sex play as we
slept together, but it was little more than fondling and exploring.

In the meantime I began trying to find out as much as I could about this
boy who had me so totally captivated. I guess if I'd known more about life
I would have realized that I was gay and in love with him, but under the
circumstances I realized neither. I found out that his name was Kenny
Collins, that he had just turned 12 years old, having been accelerated two
years, one more than I.  His father was Robert Collins, who I learned was
my father's insurance agent. I had seen Robert at our house a couple times,
and he seemed to me to act quite effeminate.  Another popular misconception
that most boys subscribed to at the time was that all gays were effeminate,
and all effeminate's were gay. "I wonder," I thought. But I still hadn't
put two and two together.

Kenny had what was obviously a best friend in the form of Timmy, who it
turned out was the son of my doctor. Timmy was very small for his age,
appearing to be only 10 or 11. His voice gave no signs of changing any time
soon, and he looked somewhat out of place in High School, except that he
was immensely bright. Neither Kenny nor Timmy were much interested in
athletics or any other of the popular boy activities, so their friendship
was quite natural.

At the time all this was going on my best friend was a boy named Ron. We
were the same age, but we didn't share any classes. We had met in the
seventh grade where we were in the same class.  We became inseparable in
the seventh and eighth grade, because of our common interest in
electronics.

Ron had a "lab" set up in his home... a rather large, older home with lots
of extra rooms. One of these rooms had become Ron's lab, where he had a
large workbench, a control panel with all sorts of switches, power
supplies, speakers and patch panels. We could connect almost anything to
almost anything else with the facilities he had available. We would hang
out at the local radio repair shops (remember, in 1952 there really weren't
any TV's, only radios). We were known by all the radio repairmen in town,
many of whom had accused us of being brothers. We even looked alike, they
said. I could never see it, but that's what they said. We would scrounge
any old scrapped radio's or other electronic equipment destined for the
trash pile, take them to Ron's lab, and there we would salvage any parts
that we thought we could use. Having been at this now for three years, we
had developed a pretty impressive array of equipment.

Ron was extremely effeminate.... his gestures, the way he talked, and even
some of the phrasing he used were more suited to a girl than a boy.
Probably that was the reason that he wasn't terribly popular, in fact to be
friends with Ron meant that you would be avoided by most of the other boys,
because by association there must be something wrong with you. But I was
99% certain that he wasn't gay, or if he was he certainly never made a pass
at me.  If he had I'm not sure what I would have done, because I still had
no inkling that I was gay. No, Ron and I were just good friends who had a
common interest.

As the school year drug on, I spent more and more time with Ron, either in
his lab or in his bedroom doing homework. Ron shared a room with his
younger brother named Gerry, who always seemed to me to be quite disgusted
with his effeminate brother, and therefore, with me too. Gerry was an "all
boy" type who loved sports, was always active and usually outdoors, so he
wasn't around that much. Of course my fantasies about Robbie (Kenny) were
running rampant during most of my waking hours and sometimes I even dreamt
about him.

On a Wednesday morning in early November I met Ron at school to make
arrangements to go home with him. He said that he had something to do right
after school, but he would be home at 4:00 so I should meet him there. I
thought nothing of it, one or the other of us often had an errand to run,
some school work to take care of.... all the things that delay a boy from
doing what he wants to do. So I agreed to meet him at his home after 4:00.

"Hello, Charlie," Ron's mother said pleasantly when I knocked, "Ron's in
his bedroom, so go on in." I thanked her and walked down the hall to Ron's
bedroom. I stood in the open door stammering like a half-wit, completely
dumbfounded! There stood Ron, Kenny's friend Timmy. Beside Timmy, in all
his glory, was Kenny himself!

I made a complete fool of myself as I stood in the open doorway, stuttering
and stammering, trying to cope with the fact that the object of my desires
was standing there smiling at me.  "Charlie," I heard Ron's voice in the
far distance saying, "This is Kenny and Timmy. I didn't think you'd mind if
I invited them over so see our setup."  "I.... um...." I stammered,
thinking to myself "Mind! How could I possibly mind?" I wanted to grab Ron
and kiss him! When I had recovered somewhat I stuck out my hand and Kenny
took it and shook it. Now as you already know, it is not customary for boys
of that age to shake hands when they meet; but this was special! This was a
meeting made in Heaven! I didn't think about it at the time, but years
later I analyzed that handshake and I have concluded that something in my
subconscious simply saw this as a way to touch this young adonis who had
such a hold on me, so without even thinking we were indeed shaking hands.

When our hands touched, a bold of electricity went through my entire body
that had me stammering all over again. His hand was smooth and soft, yet
his grip was strong and full. Our eyes locked and in my mind I could see
through them and I found myself looking right into his soul! And what I saw
there was a very nice person, a person I knew instinctively I wanted to get
to know a lot better.

When I finally came to my senses again I let go of Kenny's hand and shook
Timmy's. He was a nice kid, very small for his age. I had seen him with
Kenny most of the time at school and knew that they had a lot in common. I
found myself wondering to my total astonishment exactly what all they did
have in common. I didn't dislike Timmy, but I really envied all the time he
got to spend with my young hero.

"I've seen you in school," Kenny said pleasantly, "You're in the three year
course, right?"  "Yes I am," I replied, "But I'm thinking of dropping out."
"Why?" Kenny asked, astonished.  "Because it's an academic strain and I
want the Technical strain so I can take Engineering in college." I went on
to explain that my father wanted me to be a lawyer, but I had no interest
in such things, that I was technically minded, which dictated that I change
courses and in the process lose the year that I had gained. We talked about
this a while and Kenny left me with the impression that he felt I should do
whatever works for me and that if my dad didn't support me, that was his
problem. Score another one for Kenny!

The four of us went on talking about school, our various aspirations about
career, life, our likes and dislikes, and other things that boys need to
know about each other when they first meet. Kenny was bright as a whip, but
he was also one of the nicest guys to talk to I had ever met. By the time
we had to leave Kenny and Timmy were both very good friends. And my
fantasies were even more rampant.

When it was time to leave, Kenny, Timmy and I went together.  We chatted as
we walked about all the things the other two had seen in Ron's "lab." They
were both very bright and learned quickly, but Ron and I had been working
at our favorite hobby for over three years, so we had quite a head start on
them. As we walked I found myself explaining this and that electrical
concept to my new friends, all the while marveling to myself that I was
talking with, friends with, the most beautiful boy on the face of the
earth! At fourteen I still had no concept of sex, really, and I certainly
did not even consider the possibility that I was in love with Kenny. In my
misinformed mind any relationship between boys was either as normal
friends, brothers, or pure sex.  And sex was not an option, because that
was reserved for "queers," a group to which I was sure that I did not
belong.  So my fantasies continued along the same lines: that Kenny and I
were brothers, and rather intimate ones at that.

It was only a week later that I came to realize that our friendship would
become even stronger, that we had a whole lot more in common than I had
ever dared hope.


I have included a lot of preamble and discussion of how it was in 1952,
because I think it's important to understand how it was back then growing
up Gay, or suspecting such of someone else.  If younger Gay people think
they have a difficult time now, you should try going back to that time!
Being Gay in the fifties was totally unacceptable and something reserved
for perverts, those possessed of the devil, or throw-away kids.

If you like this story or have any comments, please e-mail them to
charlieje@mindspring.com