Date: Mon, 18 Mar 2024 09:38:49 -0500
From: ronyx@themustardjar.com
Subject: Window Stories   Chapter 2

The following is a work of fiction. Any similarities to anyone are
purely coincidental. The story is intended for a mature audience. It may
contain profanity and references to gay sex. If this offends you, please
leave and find something more suitable to read. Ronyx stories are
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not copy or use without written permission. Ronyx is a prolific Nifty
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Window Stories    Chapter 2


It was a lazy Wednesday summer afternoon, and I was sitting on the porch
steps just looking around. My mother sent me outside to play, but there
was no one to play with. My friends were at the park playing baseball.
However, I had fallen out of a tree a few days earlier and hurt my foot.
My mother panicked and rushed me to the hospital because she thought I
had broken it, but it was only a bad bruise. I tried to convince her it
wasn't broken, but she wouldn't listen to me. Now, she's mad at me
because the hospital charged her a lot of money for doing nothing except
putting some ointment on my bruise.

I could hear my friends shouting in the distance. I wanted to go watch
them, but it would be embarrassing for me to tell them I can't play
because I fell out of a tree. I was already small, and it would just
make them think that I was weak. Every twelve-year-old boy should be
able to climb a tree like a monkey, shouldn't they? They probably
wouldn't let me play anyway. I'm always the last to be picked because of
my size. I'm shorter than my friends, and I only weigh 70 pounds. My
friend, Jeff, always kids me and tells me to go lie down and be first
base. They get a good laugh, but I don't think it's funny.

"Philly!" hollered out Mom as she opened the screen door. "What are you
doing? You're being so quiet."

I hollered back sarcastically, "What's it look like I'm doing? I'm
sitting on the porch."

"Don't get smart with me, Phillip," she replied angrily. I was going to
tell her that it's impossible to get smart with her, but I bit my lip.
She was already mad at me, and I probably would get a whipping with the
paddle. She keeps a paddle in the top drawer of her dresser for such
occasions. When I was younger, she would use it on me almost once a
week. Now that I'm getting older, she finds other ways to punish me like
not playing with my friends for a day or two.

I jumped when she slammed the door shut. I knew she would tell my father
when he got home. He's a big man who works at the Ford assembly plant.
He spent four years in the Army serving oversees fighting in the war.
Sometimes he scares me when he tells stories about how he had to shoot
German soldiers. He and mom were married before he left for overseas.
I'm the oldest of three kids. I guess I was born nine months after he
left for Germany. I have a sister who is a year younger than me, and a
brother who is two years younger. Mom joked once that we were furlough
babies. I'm not really sure what that means.

Mom doesn't work. She says she had a job working in a grocery store
before she married dad, but she gave it up when I came along. I suppose
women weren't supposed to work when they have babies. Dad makes enough
money though. We have a nice four-bedroom house, and he drives a black
Ford Victoria. I think he likes Mom telling him I was bad so he can
punish me by washing his car.

It was June, and the sun was beating down on me. I took off my shirt,
laid back and closed my eyes. It felt good. I was almost asleep when I
heard a bike go past the house. I opened them and noticed a boy pedaling
away. He had put cards on the spokes to make a flapping noise. Some of
the other guys did it, but I was afraid to take cards out of the game
drawer to put them on my bike. Dad would have gotten really mad if he
found out what I did.

The boy didn't look familiar. And I wasn't sure if he had a dark tan, or
he was a black boy. It couldn't have been a black boy because we didn't
have any black families who lived in the neighborhood. There were about
five who attended my elementary school, but none lived where we did.
Most stayed on the other side of town.

I was curious who he was, so I hurried to the side of the house where my
bike was located, and I started pedaling down the street. My right foot
still hurt, so I tried to do most of the pedaling with my left. I had to
struggle to keep going straight. When I arrived at a stop sign down the
street, I stopped and looked both ways. I didn't see him anywhere. I
shrugged my shoulders and decided I would go watch my friends play at
the ball field about a block away. When I arrived, I saw the boy on the
bike resting under an elm tree watching my friends play. I rode my bike
over to where he was and stopped beside him.

He cautiously eyed me. I was right too. He was black, and he appeared to
be about my age. When I got off my bike, he became very defensive. I
noticed that he balled his fists as if he was going to fight me.

I smiled and said, "Hi, I'm Philly." He continued to stare at me. I
guess he was trying to figure out if I was a threat to him. I don't know
why he would feel like that though. He was much bigger than me, and he
could have easily taken care of himself. I walked a few steps away and
sat down, watching my friends play baseball.

I watched out of the corner of my eyes as he decided what to do. I know
he was afraid because I was white, and he was in a white neighborhood.
If he was so scared, why was he even here? After several minutes, he got
off his bike and put down the kickstand. Reluctantly, he walked over and
sat down beside me.

"Hi," he said. I looked over and smiled. He was really cute. His hair
was curly, and he had sparkling brown eyes. I know I shouldn't think he
was cute because he was a boy. And besides, he was black. I wasn't even
sure if I was supposed to be talking to him. The Black students at my
school stayed to themselves. I didn't' t know much of what was
happening, but I sometimes watched the evening news with my parents. I
had seen a few news stories where Black people were complaining about
the way they were being treated. They felt they should have the same
rights as white people. I didn't understand it at all. The way I see it,
we are all human beings with different colored skin. There are white
dogs and black dogs. They seem to get along. So, what was the big deal
anyway?

"I'm Phil," I replied with a smile.

He chuckled and said, "You already told me that." He looked out over the
field and asked, "Are those your friends? Why aren't you playing
baseball?"

I reached down and rubbed the bruise on my foot. "I hurt myself last
week. I can't play."

"Sorry," he apologized. "Did you hurt it playing baseball?"

"Nope," I replied as my face began to redden. "I fell out of a tree."

I thought he would make fun of me, but he didn't. Instead, he looked
down at my foot and said, "Ouch. That had to have hurt." I let out a
little gasp when he reached down and gently touched my bruise. He
withdrew his hand quickly and said apologetically, "Sorry. I shouldn't
have touched you."

"It's okay," I replied. I was puzzled by the way he said it. "Why can't
you touch me?

"My momma warned me about touching white people," he replied. "She said
I shouldn't do it?"

"Why?"

He shrugged his shoulders and said, "I dunno. She just said I
shouldn't."

I giggled and replied, "Well, you can touch me anytime you want." We
both leaned back, looked over and laughed. I was beginning to feel that
we could be good friends. I reminded him, "You never told me what your
name is."

"Oh, yeah," he smiled. "My name is Jeremiah Oliver, but everyone calls
me Jerry," he frowned and added, "Well, everyone except my mom and dad."

I was curious and asked, "Why won't they call you Jerry?"

He frowned and replied, "I guess Jeremiah is a Bible name. My dad was a
pastor, so they won't call me Jerry."

I asked, "Are you new around here? I've never seen you before."

Jerry explained that his family had just moved into the neighborhood,
about two blocks from my house. He said they had moved from New Jersey
when his father was offered a job in a factory across town.

"Why did you move around here?" I asked.

He shrugged his shoulders and replied, "I dunno. We looked at houses in
the black section of town, but Dad liked this area. He said it is closer
to his job." He looked out at the boys playing baseball. "I'm not sure
I'm going to fit in here."

I really didn't know what he was talking about. He seemed like a nice
guy to me. I couldn't understand why he felt he wouldn't fit in. So, I
asked him why. "Dad told me that people might not like me because of my
color. We've already had a few neighbors who told us they didn't like us
moving next door to them."

"That's stupid," I replied.

He shrugged his shoulders and said, "I suppose that is the way things
are."

I stood and grabbed his arm, pulling him to his feet. "Come on," I
insisted. "I want you to meet some of the guys." He hesitated a minute
before he finally agreed. We jumped on our bikes and rode across the
field. The boys in the outfield yelled at us to get off the field. We
got off our bikes and watched the game safely behind third base. When
the inning was over, a couple of the guys walked over and gave us
suspicious looks.

"Who's this, Phil?" asked Mike, the third baseman. I introduced them to
Jerry. I told them he was new to the area. They politely said hello.

"Can you bat?" asked Steven, the pitcher.

Jerry told them that he had played for a little league team where he was
from. That seemed to impress them. "I like playing basketball more," he
informed them. Steven pulled him up by his arm, and they headed over to
where a group of other boys had gathered. I watched as they talked to
Jerry. When the next inning began, they handed Jerry a bat and told him
they wanted to see what he had.

On the second swing, he hit the ball over the centerfielder's head. He
quickly ran around the bases and crossed home plate before the fielder
could retrieve the ball. All the guys rushed over and patted him on his
back. I watched for a few more minutes before I jumped on my bike and
sadly pedaled home. I don't think Jerry was even aware I had left.

When I entered the kitchen, Mom told me that dinner would be ready in an
hour. I went to my room, closed the door and lay on the bed. I was upset
about what happened earlier. I was embarrassed because I hadn't been
asked to join the guys playing baseball. I know I'm not the best player,
but they just ignored me and gave Jerry all their attention. I was happy
that they had accepted him so quickly. He was afraid he wouldn't fit in.
But he fit in right away. I've grown up with them, but they didn't even
ask me if I wanted to play.

Mom hollered up the stairs for me and my brother and sister to come down
for dinner. I'm fortunate that I don't have to share a bedroom with my
little brother, Jeff. We have four bedrooms, so we each have our own
room. Jeff's room is across from mine. Sometimes he thinks my room is
his. I come home often, and he's on my bed reading my comic books. My
sister, Emily, has a room next to Jeff. We have one bathroom which we
share. Jeff and I have no problem. However, Mom has warned us not to let
Emily see our `nasty parts.' I don't understand what is so nasty about
them.

As we were eating dinner, Dad began to rant about a new supervisor who
had been hired. "I don't know why they didn't hire someone on the
inside. But they had to go and hire some nigger from New Jersey." He
took a drink from his coffee mug and slammed it down on the table. "I'm
not going to let some nigger tell me what to do."

"Now, now, Roger," she warned him as she looked at me and my brother and
sister. "Don't talk like that in front of the children."

"Daddy?" asked Jeff. "What's a nigger?"

"See what you've done?" She angrily yelled at my father.

She patted Jeff on the hand and said, "Forget you heard your father use
that horrible word." She caste my father and angry look. He ate quickly
and then left the table in a huff. Later, Jeff asked me what the word
meant, but I told him I didn't know. One thing I did realize, though.
The man he was talking about was Jerry's father.

The next morning after breakfast, I became bored sitting in my bedroom
reading comics. Jeff came in for a little while and joined me until
Cooper, his friend next door barged in and wanted him to go outside and
play. I went downstairs to get a cookie and ran into my mother.

"Philly," she said as she grabbed her purse off the counter. "I'm going
shopping with Mrs. Ellis this morning. Keep an eye on your brother and
sister for me."

"Sure," I replied as she left through the door. I waited until I heard
the garage door close, and then I went outside grabbed my baseball glove
and jumped on my bike. I wanted to see if the guys were playing baseball
in the field. There were about nine guys there when I arrived. Jerry was
one of them. He smiled when he saw me approach.

"Hey, Buddy," he said as he put his arm around my shoulder. I wanted to
pull away, but I was afraid he would think I did it because he was
black. The truth was, I was attracted to him. I had never felt the
feelings I was having about him. I was at an age where girls didn't
interest me, but I had never thought of any of my friends in the way I
was about Jerry. I had never thought of another boy as cute. I didn't
know what I was feeling, but I knew it wasn't natural. Boys are supposed
to like girls, not another boy.

Since I made the tenth boy, the others had no choice but choose me to
play. Jerry insisted that I be on his team. He was going to pitch, and
he wanted me to play catcher. I did a really good job. I played better
than I had ever played. Even the others kidded me on how well I was
catching. I didn't want to confess that Jerry had a lot to do with that.
I wanted to make a good impression on him, so I gave it 110%. Two hours
later, I was exhausted. My hand hurt from his fast balls, and my
shoulders were killing me from tossing the ball to him. I was rewarded
when the last inning was over, and he ran to the plate and hugged me.

When we climbed on our bikes, Jerry asked me what I was going to do.
"Nothing," I replied. "I guess I'll go back home."

"Why don't you come home with me?" he suggested.

"Won't you parents care?" I asked. I wasn't sure they would like a white
boy just showing up on their doorstep unannounced.

He smiled and said, "They are at work. We'll be alone."

Every thought in my head was warning me not to do it. I knew I couldn't
trust my feelings by being alone with Jerry. I wasn't sure what was
happening to me, but I knew I didn't want to ruin a friendship with
Jerry by doing or saying something I shouldn't. My dick had already
gotten hard a couple of times when I watched him on the pitcher's mount.
Fortunately, I was wearing a chest protector so no one could see it
protruding from the thin shorts I had on.

I followed Jerry on his bike to his house. I was still hesitant to go in
when we arrived. When he saw me standing reluctantly beside my bike, he
laughed, grabbed my arm and pulled me inside. Jerry assured me that no
one would be home. He was an only child, so we didn't have to worry
about a brother or sister. I followed him down the hall to his bedroom.
It looked like a boy's room. Even though he had just moved in, it looked
like he had been there for a long time. He had sports posters on the
wall. Most were basketball players I didn't know. He had a bookshelf
with a couple of trophies. He said he had won them playing basketball in
New Jersey.

"Are you good?" I asked as I picked up a trophy.

He shrugged his shoulders and replied, "I dunno. My dad says I am. I
want to play when I get to high school."

"If you're half as good at basketball," I said, "as you are playing
baseball, you'll make the team."

"I hope," he said as he pulled his tee shirt over his head. I stood and
stared at his beautiful body. He smiled when I noticed me gazing at him.
Our eyes met, and he pulled his pants off. He wasn't hard, but there was
a nice bulge protruding from his boxer shorts. "I'm hot," he said as he
turned to leave the room. "I'm going to go take a shower. Make yourself
at home."

I sat on the edge of the bed and couldn't believe what had just
happened. I saw Jerry almost naked, and my mind was in overdrive and my
dick was harder than it had ever been. When I heard the shower turn off,
my heart started pounding rapidly. What if he came back into the room
naked? How should I act?

And Jerry did. He entered the room drying his hair with a towel. At
first, he didn't see me staring at his cock hanging below a small tuft
of dark hair. He already had pubic hair! None of the guys had pubic hair
yet. We would check each other out in gym class when we showered waiting
for the first hairs to appear. Buddy had a couple that were starting to
show, but that was it. I was still smooth. Jerry removed the towel and
smiled when he saw me staring at his dick.

"What? he laughed. "You've never seen a dick before?"

My face reddened as I stammered out, "Yeah, I've seen a dick before.
Just not one with hair on it."

"Oh this," he laughed as he ran his fingers through it. When he did, it
began to harden. "It started growing last year. Don't you have any?"

"No," I said embarrassingly. "Not yet."

He approached me naked and asked challengingly. "You want to feel it?"

"Nooo!" I stammered again nervously.

"It's okay, really," he said. "I don't care." I couldn't move when he
took my hand and lifted it to his pubic hair, letting me rub it. He was
now completely erect.

I quickly pulled my hand away and stood. "We shouldn't be doing this," I
said adamantly. I was afraid one of his parents might return home and
see what we were doing.

"Why?" he asked. "Me and my cousin did this all the time. He's not
around now, and I miss him."

I asked incredulously, "You let your cousin touch you?"

"Yeah, sure," he replied. "It was fun. We did more than touch." He
reached out, grabbed my tee shirt and started to pull it off me.

"No!" I shouted as I took a step back. I couldn't help but look at his
erection. I wanted to feel it, but something told me that I shouldn't."

"Come on, Jerry," he pleaded. "We can have some fun. No one will ever
know, I promise." I couldn't stop him if I wanted to when he pulled my
tee shirt off. "Cool," he said as he looked at my chest. "I've never
done anything with a white boy."

"I've never done anything with a boy," I muttered.

"Really?" he asked. "You and your friends have never done anything
together?"

"No!" I replied. We had many sleepovers together at each other's houses,
but we never ever thought of messing around.

He pushed me back on the bed, and I didn't resist when he removed my
underwear and shorts. I couldn't believe I was lying naked in front of
another boy. He laid down beside me and started stroking my four-inch
dick. "Nice," he said as I lay back and moaned. I didn't resist when he
took my hand and folded it around his erection. "This is going to be
fun," he said excitedly.

Before I realized what was happening, he had leaned down and taken my
dick in his mouth! I couldn't believe it. It felt great! It was better
than when I jerk off at night. A few months ago, I began to cum. My
loads were small, but they still felt good. I would grab a few tissues
from the bathroom before going to bed. I would cum in them, and then
toss them into the toilet in the morning so my mother wouldn't know what
I was doing.

But my mind was in overdrive by what Jerry was doing to me. It was
obvious he had done it many times. Then suddenly, I got that tickle in
my balls, and I knew I was going to cum. I grabbed Jerry's head and
tried to pull him off, but he batted my hand away. I could feel my dick
pulsing as I exploded in his mouth. When I was finished, he sat up,
wiped off his mouth and said, "Cool." Then he grinned, put my hand on
his erection and said, "Now, it's my turn."

I was stunned. I didn't know what to do. I just thought he wanted to
suck me. I didn't know that he would expect me to return the favor.
"I've...never...sucked a dick...before," I stammered.

"It's okay, Phil," he assured me. "Just do what I did. Just be careful
and don't scrap your teeth against me." He took my hand and wrapped it
around his dick. I leaned over and looked at it. It was the most
beautiful thing I had ever seen. It was about five and a half inches
long, and very thick. I was fascinated by his black, curly pubic hair. I
ran my hand gingerly over it. When Jerry saw how hesitant I was to suck
him, he put his hand gently on the back of my head and pushed me toward
the head. "Just put a little in your mouth," he pleaded.

And I did. I leaned forward and took about two inches into my mouth. I
thought I would be disgusted, but I wasn't. Sucking Jerry was the
greatest thrill of my life. He moaned as I sucked in another inch.
Within a few minutes, I was sucking him like he had sucked me. And he
was enjoying it as much as I was. He kept moaning loudly and encouraging
me to continue.

"You're really good, Phil," he moaned as he held the back of my head and
fucked my eager mouth. "Oh, shit!" he cried out as I felt his cum
filling my mouth. I wanted to gag, but I didn't' t want to embarrass
myself. I let it flow out of my mouth and down onto the sheet. I smiled
as I watched Jerry's chest heaving from the excitement. I was proud of
myself for what I had done. I didn't feel at all dirty.

He sat up and threw his legs over the edge of the bed. "You better go,"
he warned as he looked at the clock. "My mother gets off work in fifteen
minutes." We hurriedly dressed, and I followed him to the door.

"Thanks, Phil," he said smilingly. "That was great."

I returned his smile and replied, "I liked it too."

"Now, remember," he warned. "You can't tell anyone what we just did. It
will be just our secret."

"I promise," I replied. I turned and left his house. I whistled a tune
as I biked home.

* * * * * *

"Wow!" exclaimed Colin. "That was hot. Did you and Jerry keep seeing
each other?"

I lay back and looked up at the ceiling. "A few times," I replied. "He
started running around with my friends. He was always playing baseball
or basketball. He invited me home a couple of times, but it wasn't the
same. I started to feel that he was just using me. When we entered
junior high school, he started dating a girl. After that, he rarely
spoke to me. I think he was afraid that I would tell people what we did.
I realized that he was straight, and I think he thought I was too. It
was just something fun that we did for a while."

Colin frowned and said, "Sorry."

I looked at him and said challengingly, "Now it's your turn. Tell me
about your first time."

He frowned and replied, "Not too much to tell you." He stood and looked
out the window. "I was fifteen, a sophomore, and he was seventeen, a
senior. I had a huge crush on him, and he knew it. I didn't play sports.
I was on the debate team at school. He was one of my teammates."

Colin walked over and sat down in his chair. "We had a competition in
Baltimore, and Bill and I were assigned as roommates in a hotel." He
sighed and continued. "After we won, he went down the hall and got drunk
with some of our buddies on the team. I was too young, so they wouldn't
let me join them. When he returned, he threw himself on the bed and fell
asleep."

"He awoke me about three o'clock when he climbed into my bed naked. He
pressed his body against mine, and I could smell the whiskey on his
breath. He told me he knew I was gay and that I wanted him. He said he
was going to give me the opportunity. I tried to fight him off, but he
was much bigger than me."

I looked over and saw tears flowing down Colin's face. "I really did try
to stop him. He scooted up and shoved his dick in my mouth. I started
gagging, and he told me I better not throw up on him. I tried to push
him away, but he kept shoving it back into my mouth. Finally, he came
all over my face. He got up and climbed back into his bed. I went into
the bathroom and tried to shower his filth off me. I must have been in
there for an hour crying. If there had been anything in the room I could
have used to kill myself, I would have done it that night."

I watched as Colin completely broke down. I reached out and gripped his
hand as he sobbed hysterically. He sat up and said, "This is the first
time I've ever talked about it." He then put his head in his hands and
continued to cry. When he finished crying, I asked him if he was
alright.

"Yeah," he replied. "It was a big relief talking about it. I've kept it
bottled up so long." He gripped my hand and said, "Thanks."

After several minutes, Colin asked, "Did you ever do anything with
anyone else while you were in school?"

I looked out the window and saw Bobby looking in. "Yeah," I replied. "I
did."

Colin rose and smiled down at me. "You can tell me about it tomorrow,
Phil." He looked at the clock. It was after six. "It's late and I have
to go."

I winked at him and said, "See you tomorrow." I looked out the window
and saw Bobby still looking inside at me.

*********

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