Date: Sun, 12 Dec 2004 21:28:44 -0700
From: Joseph Farrin <bigblaise@hotmail.com>
Subject: A BOY AND HIS MEN - REVISED 2

		      A BOY AND HIS MEN - 2 CORRECTED

I LEARNED WHAT HAD HAPPENED
THE ONLY THING I REMEMBER IS THAT PETE WAS UNCONSCIOUS AND I COULDN'T GET
THE DOOR OPEN ON THE PASSENGER SIDE OF THE CAR.

That side of the car was smashed in.  I climbed over the seat and opened the
door behind Pete; luckily, the curb was not too high to block the driver
side doors.  I opened his door and pulled him out because I knew the car was
on fire. I couldn't lift him, so I began dragging him across a lawn, hoping
to get him between two houses in case the car exploded.  I didn't succeed
but I had him about 80 feet from the car.  I looked back and decided to lie
on top of him in case the car did explode and I barely made it.  The car did
explode, something that was aflame landed on my back and I started rolling
on the grass to put it out.  At that point I lost consciousness.

When I woke in the Intensive Care Unit, I was told my right arm was broken
and I had severe burns on my back.  When they took me back to my room, my
mom and Carol were both there and it was obvious that they'd both been
crying.  I couldn't lie on my back and with my right arm broken I was
limited to my left side as the only position I was even halfway comfortable
on.  Mom explained that Pete had a concussion of some degree and appeared
all right from the X-rays but he had he had been flown by medical helicopter
to Denver for further tests and my dad had gone with him.  I had to stay in
for a few days as a burn specialist was coming down from Denver to examine
me.

Mom told me that there had been a lot of neighborhood witnesses even before
the gas tank exploded and before the fire, police and paramedics arrived on
the scene.  The driver of the other car was drunk and had run away but the
police traced him from the license on the back of his car.  He denied being
involved, claiming his car had been stolen, but witnesses stated otherwise
and he was now in jail.

The evening paper gave an account of the accident including me dragging my
older brother to safety even though my arm was broken.  Embarrassing.  Even
worse, TV had a spot covering it - no pictures, fortunately.  I was allowed
no visitors until the next day when I began getting greeting cards from my
teachers and my classmates.  That evening, with mom and Carol in the room,
Kurt and Ronnie knocked softly on the door and entered.

Ronnie had obviously had his haircut and was dressed in slacks, sport coat,
shirt and tie.  I knew he did it because he'd meet my parents here.  Kurt
introduced Ron to my mom and Carol, explaining that I had met him when the
three of us went out to Prairie Creek and that we were now kinda like the
Three Musketeers.

Then, they both came over beside the bed, both facing me as I lie on my left
side.

Kurt asked, " Cinco, what doesn't hurt." (Cinco had to be explained to my
mom later on).

I didn't know what he was driving at but I responded, "my left hand and my
face."
He bend down and kissed my hand and then my cheek.  Ronnie stepped over and
said, "Me next."

He proceeded to kiss my hand and cheek.  He stuck his tongue out and I felt
it against my cheek - that's Ronnie. Then he pulls the sheet down, holding
it up and pulls up my hospital gown.

"What are you doing?"

"Just checking to see that it didn't burn off - that you're still a boy."

Carol and my mom both laughed.

"If it had burned off, I'd have asked for an organ transplant."

"Why?"

"Because I want to join the Boy Scouts not the Girl Scouts."

Ronnie asked, "Who would you get for a donor?"

"You."

"Me!  Why me?"

"Because you're my friend."

"Why not Kurt?"

"Because they'd kick him out of the Boy Scouts if he donated."

"They wouldn't consider it a good deed?  I thought Boy Scouts were supposed
to do good deeds."

"I don't think they would."

"Well, anyway your brain wasn't damaged, You're still a smart bun."

"What?"

"A nice name for posterior."

Everyone laughed again.

The two of them, with their lively conversation and teasing, made the room
seem suddenly filled with light and fun.  I felt better than I had since the
accident.  Finally they told me the floor nurse had given them just 10
minutes so they better leave before they were kicked out.  Then, Ronnie
asked my mom if she was staying with me overnight.  She said she did last
night and she'd be staying again.

"Why don't you and Carol go home?  I work nights and I took time off, so
I'll stay tonight and then Kurt and I can split shifts for the remainder of
his stay.  You must be worn out and you have enough to do without staying up
here around the clock,"

"I don't want to impose like that."

Kurt said, "Believe me Mrs. Michaels it wouldn't be.  Let us do it.  We want
to help out."

Mom and Carol left with Kurt and Ronnie managed to give me an open mouth
kiss before the nurse came in with pills to take before I went to sleep - a
sleeping aid and a pain medication.  She told Ronnie to be sure I took them
but I didn't need to until I was ready to go to sleep.

After a while, I asked Ronnie to help me go to the toilet, which was in a
small, separate room, whereas the washbasin was in the room itself.

After I took a pee, he said, "Sit on the can for a minute."

"Why?"

"You fucking know why, you're hard as a rock down there.  I'm surprised you
were able to piss with it so hard."

He closed the door, stood in front of me, unzipped his pants and hauled out
his already hard motherfucker.

"Oh shit, Ronnie, I think I need that motherfucker of yours worse than I've
ever needed it in my life."

"So I guessed.  But, shit, you always want it bad, don't you?"

"Guilty."

"It's all yours to enjoy, so enjoy."

I sucked my way to a pleasure that only a cocksucker can understand.  It was
wonderful.  When I finished, Ronnie helped me as I pulled myself up with the
handicapped bar on the wall.  He immediately went down on me and all too
soon I achieved my faux climax. I knew it was more effective than the
sleeping pill would be.

Back in the room, he pushed the door within six inches of being closed,
pulled a chair over close to the bed and switched off the lights in the
room.  Before he sat down he kissed me some more.

"Thanks, Ronnie, sex is always at it's best with you."

"Likewise and I'll always remember this time.  It's the first time I'd ever
been sucked off by a hero."

"I'm no hero."

"That's not what the newspaper said."

"That was so embarrassing."

"I don't see why.  Now go to sleep.  I'll move the other chair over and dose
as best I can so I can put my feet on it.  You wake me if you need anything
during the night."

"There's a pillow in the closet that the nurse gave my mom."

He got up and found the pillow, moved the chair he was sitting in against
the wall with the pillow propped on the wall, using the second chair to rest
his legs on.

"What if I need to suck your motherfucker again during the night."

"Motherfucker and I can arrange that.  And, by the way, you wouldn't have
chosen me to be your donor just because I'm your amigo."

"What do you mean by that?"

"You'd just like to have my big Mexican motherfucker between your legs,  I
know you, you little size queen."

"Oh I don't know about that, I think I'd have more fun with it between your
legs than mine, or at least just as much."

"I'll try to make that a reality."

The next afternoon, Mr. Johnson, the neighbor across the alley, that had the
light that shined into my room, came in to visit me, carrying a huge box of
chocolates.  Mr. Johnson, like Ron, worked a weird shift and always got home
in the wee hours of the morning, which is why he'd had the light installed.
Whenever he saw me in the backyard, he always came over and chatted.  He was
a short, heavyset man with a fringe of hair around the sides and back of his
large bald spot.  He always seemed so happy and talking with him was always
fun.  He was always bringing my mom Iris, tulip bulbs, jonquil bulbs and
other stuff from his yard whenever he was thinning things out.  His wife was
ill and in a wheelchair.  I never really saw her much.

That night Kurt stayed with me until Ronnie got off work then he stayed
until morning.  Kurt, as I told you before, was getting more inventive in
sex but sucking him off was about all that was possible to do in the
hospital.  He, too, let me suck him and he reciprocated before I went to
sleep.  Both of them were so good to suck on.  I loved their big dicks.
They were my sex gods.  After he'd finished sucking me though, he began to
tear up.  I didn't know he was so emotional.

"Jesus, Joey, I'm so fucking glad your injuries are no worse than they are.
The arm will mend and, in time, so will your back.  I was scared shitless
when I first heard the news that you and Pete were both injured in an
accident."

"I'm afraid my back will be an ugly looking mess."

"Your mom told me they might do skin grafts if it leaves a lot of scars."

"She didn't tell me that, probably didn't want to scare me."

"Sorry I spilled the beans.  Grafts are always a ways down the road. Don't
worry about it please. If they decided to do grafts they'll do small areas
at a time."

"I won't, I'm glad you told me, though.  I like knowing better than
surprises."

Kurt didn't fit in the two chairs as well as Ronnie did.  Ronnie was so
small and skinny he could squeeze into anything.  Small and skinny, except
for his big, fucking cock, that is.  I'll never forget the day it
accidentally slipped into my boy twat, as he calls it.

After the burn specialist had examined me, I still had to stay in the
hospital.  The pads and wrapping on my back were too complicated to handle
except for the doctor.  Even after I was dismissed, I had to go back to the
doctor's office every other day after school for the local doctor to remove
them, examine me, and renew them.

2. DISCHARGED AND FUCKED

BEING HOME HAD ONE BIG DRAWBACK.

Pete was home and Ronnie and Kurt alternated coming over to see me. Ronnie
came one day and Kurt the next.  But sex was out of the question for lack of
privacy, I wasn't too good at jacking off left-handed and I was getting more
frustrated every day.

Pete, by the way, was an entirely different person.  He cried the first time
he saw me after the accident.  He thanked me for what I'd done, told me how
much he appreciated it and how much he loved me.  When I finally got to go
home, he was solicitous in the ways he helped - helping me dress, tying my
shoes, switching bunks so I was sleeping on the bottom bunk.  He was
everything and more that a big brother should be.

One afternoon, after school, I Heard laughing in the Living Room, went in
and found Ronnie and my mom in the living room drinking coffee; the laughter
was no surprise.  I knew, from the hospital, that he had captivated my
parents and Carol the same as he had me, except for different reasons of
course.  He'd asked my mom if he could kidnap me for a few hours to give me
a change of scenery and she agreed.  Despite not being able to lean back
against the car seat, despite the broken arm, I was as happy as it was
possible to be.  I knew Ronnie was taking me to his apartment and I'd soon
be in cock heaven.  It was two weeks since I'd been home and I was as horny
as a boy could get.

Ronnie led me into the kitchen and slowly undressed me, kissing each part of
my body as it was exposed.  Then he took his clothes off and tossed them on
the chair with mine.

"It's not going to be very long before your boy cock is going to develop
pubic hairs and shoot cum.  Of course it won't happen exactly on your
birthday but soon.  I hope I'm the one that gets your first load.  That
would be so fucking fantastic.  Unbelievable, in fact."

Ronnie was trying his best to be affectionate, but every movement was
stifled by his fear of putting his arms around me and pulling me close to
him - normally a natural thing - but he was afraid of hurting my back.  But,
he succeeded.  He was determined.  He left the kitchen and came back with
the girls panties that he'd had me wear the day we engaged in frottage and
helped me step into them after he lubricated me with some stuff he'd bought.
  The container was labeled "Lube".  He told me to pull his foreskin back as
he knew it was one of my favorite things.  I think he liked my doing it,
too. I watched, and damn near had my faux cum, as he lubed the entire length
of his beautiful, huge motherfucker, which seemed bigger and harder than
ever. He said he was dying for a fuck and told me to lean over the table.

"Remember when about half of it accidentally slipped in that time?"

"Yeah, it got me get off immediately."

"Well, this time it's going to accidentally slip in a little deeper.  OK
with you?"

"Anything Ronnie that would make you happy.  I really want to make you feel
good and be happy with me."

"We don't need to do anything to make me feel that way.  I feel that way
just being with you. But get ready; some big motherfucker just walked by
your alley and has decided to come in.

As before he started just fucking me between my legs, though now they were
spread wide apart.  Suddenly I felt it slip into my boy twat and he kept
slowly pushing it in deeper and deeper until I imagined I could feel his
pubic hairs against my buns.

He stopped and said, "It's all the way in.  If your back were better I'd
lean over and kiss you. Want me to make love to you, really make love to
you, love like only a man can make love to a boy?"

"Yea, try, please try. If it hurts too much you'll stop, wont you?"

"No, I've got rape on my mind, you asshole."

He began fucking me. It hurt like hell at first, but then I guess I loosened
up or something, it was as if my boy twat suddenly decided it liked it and
wanted to accommodate his motherfucker.  He fucked me, he fucked me and he
fucked me some more and without stopping he kept hollering. "Oh God, you've
got a pussy.  Damn, I can't believe it.  You're so tight in there and yet so
slippery.  Can I keep fucking you?"

"Yeah, oh yeah, don't stop!  Shoot in my twat, Ronnie!"

He kept fucking he, he didn't miss a stroke because of our talking, but he
wasn't ramming it in and out, he was doing it slowly and gently even though
his motherfucker was going all the way in with each push. I was in cock
heaven even though it was a different cock heaven than I'd been thinking of
on the way over.

Finally, amid soft, oral sounds of pleasure, he almost breathlessly
announced that he was going to shoot.  I could feel his motherfucker
spurting his love juice into my boy twat - his manhood, all warm and fresh
from his little balls. I thought as though I somehow belonged to Ronnie and
he belonged to me - he was inside me and we were united - we were like one
- ya know what I mean.  I had given my virginity to him because I wanted him
to be the one to have it and I had no regrets, only pleasure, which I knew
would become a memory that I'd never forget.

"You OK, Joey?"

"Yea, I think so."  I'd just realized it was hard work getting fucked by a
big cock.     I was exhausted.

"I didn't hurt you too bad?"

"No, I might be bow legged when I try to walk, but I'm OK."

"I tried to be gentle, but it was so good in there, I got a little taken
away I'm afraid."

"Don't worry about it.  I've wanted you to fuck me for a long time.  I
thought of it every day in the hospital and every day since I came home."

"You're my boyfriend, now.  You understand what I'm saying?"

"I hope so. I think it means you'll be fucking me more, like if I was a
girlfriend."

"You're really grown up for your age.  You got it."

"Right this minute, I feel more grown up than I've ever felt in my life."

"And, you'll feel more grown up every time we fuck."

"I know.  And, I want to be your boyfriend.   Do we have to tell Kurt?"

"I think it would be better if our fucking was our secret."

"Me, too.  I guess sex is a private thing - even intimate."

"It is intimate. Fucking and cocksucking are both special intimacies,
especially between two males, and better-kept super secret between a man and
a boy and super, super secret in the USA.  Don't you agree?"

"I do and I like having a secret with you.  It's kind of a warm feeling,
especially knowing it's a sex secret."

"Right on.  Now I'm going to help you up so I can kiss you."

"Does motherfucker still have a little hardness in it."

"A little, why."

"Try to keep it until you kiss me.  I want feel it between my legs."

"He's kinda slimy right now."

"I won't mind.  I really love him."

"I know, and he loves you, too.  He belongs to you, now."

"Do you really mean that?"

"That goes with being my boyfriend."

Driving me back home, Ronnie said, "Joey, just so you'll be prepared, sooner
or later Kurt is going to want to throw a fuck in you."

"How do you know?"

"He's a man, he's gay and he likes boys.  You're a boy, you're gay, and I
see the way he looks at you.  It's a time bomb that's going to go off some
day, just like it was with me."

"What do I do when it happens?"

"Let him fuck you.  The three of us are good friends; we're lucky to have
each other.   My advise, for what it's worth, is don't let him get it all
the way in the first time, but don't put him off either, tell him you want
him to try again and the second time let him do it.  You'll both enjoy it.
But, and this is a big but, don't tell him we're doing it."

"I understand. I still want to be your boyfriend, not his.  Should I tell
you when he does it."

"Of course."

"Will it make you jealous?"

"Of course!"

"Do girlfriends tell their boyfriends when they give it to some other guy?"

"Definitely not, but you're my boyfriend not my girlfriend, so tell me."
When he let me out in front of my house, he said, "Did you enjoy the change
of scenery?"

"You know I did.  I especially liked seeing that petrified tree between your
legs. It's very unique."

"I can't believe how sexed up you always are and at such an early age, too."

Kurt has always called me occasionally at home but Ronnie never did until I
got out of the hospital.  Tonight I knew he'd call. He did and mom called
upstairs saying "Its Ronnie for you, pick up the extension."  Ronnie and I
knew the routine and didn't get into anything suggestive until we heard mom
hang up the phone down stairs.

"Are you sore?"

"Yes"

"I'm sorry Babe."

"Don't be.  Remembering your big cock inside me, fucking me makes it all
worthwhile.

"Sounds like you've been thinking of me."

"I have."

"Likewise; Jesus but you've got a boy pussy on you and you're a damn good
cocksucker, too, for your age."

"Will I get better as I get older?"

"That's likely. If you do you do, if you don't you're still in the top 10
percent."

"Sounds like you've been sucked before."

"Most gay men have by the time they are 22 years old."

"Ever by a woman?"

"No.  I've heard they aren't as talented as men, so I've never bothered to
find out; do I detect a note of jealousy?"

"Naturally."

"Don't be, I told you it now belongs to you - exclusive property."

"Exciting property, too.  While you're confessing, have you ever fucked a
girl?  Have you ever had the chance or ever wanted to?

"Chance - yes.  Wanted to - no.  There are three cock hungry cunts on my
shift at work that would rape me if they had half a chance.  Guess they
ascribe to the belief that Blacks and Latinos all have big dicks and Latinos
are hot lovers."

"I always thought that was true, too."

"Some have big ones some don't.  Some are lovers and some are not."

"Guess I lucked out, you're Latino, your big and you're hot."

"You really think so."

"I know so."

"Tell me about it while I jack my meat."

"I haven't measured it, but I'm good at math, so I'd guess you are 8 inches
at the minimum and you're so fucking hot you're almost at the boiling
point."

"That hot?  Maybe you shouldn't play with me then.  Don't want you to get
burned again."

"I'll be careful.  Still jacking on it?"

"Sure.  I don't think I could get off on phone talk but it feels good,
anyway.  You?"

"Out, erect and jacking.  I've never really jacked you off.  I mean like
starting when it's soft and taking it all the way to climax.  Can I do that
sometime?"

"I can see you're not accustomed to being my boyfriend.  I've already told
you it's yours.  Do anything you want to with it and any time you want to.
Got it?"

"I understand, it's just I'm not used to having such a privilege, such a
freedom."

"And Joey, I forgot something.  A boyfriend also has responsibilities.  You
own it but it's like any other piece of property, you have to take care of
it."

"I will."

"You better or your little ass is going to be flaming red from spanking."

"Is that a threat or a promise?"

"Both.  Believe me it's both.  And, you know what, Joey?"

"What?"

"You are beginning to speak just like me rather than an 11 year old and just
as much a foul mouthed, smart ass as I am.  Are you doing that on purpose?

"Yea."

"Why?"

"Because I love you and want to be just like you."

"That's a compliment, Joey.  Don't let it get you in trouble though.  If you
imitate me at home your dad is apt to give you a real ass whopping until
you're dark purple back there instead of pretty pink like I make it during
foreplay."

I still had homework to do but it was Friday and Pete was out.  I started
some anyway but couldn't concentrate, so went bed, leaving the light on in
the closet, which didn't shine on my bed.  I still couldn't go to sleep.  It
was so unbelievable to me that Ronnie had wanted to fuck me, that he had
gotten his whole fucking, eight inches up my ass and used me like a woman.
When my back was healed I was going to ask him to do me while I was on my
back so I could watch his cock going in and out.  I'd seen some pics of guys
fucking broads in that position.

Then, I remembered that Ronnie had wanted to be the one that pulled my pants
down in back of Kurt's van that day at Prairie Creek and the things he said
about my cock.  I knew he liked me.  I was glad he did.  I could hardly wait
for him to fuck me again.  For that matter I could hardly wait for him to
make my ass a pretty pink again.  I knew he liked spanking me; it gave him
an erection.

Then I started to wonder if it was possible for a boy to be a man's whore.
Shit, I'd sure as fuck like to be Ronnie's whore - have him fuck me every
time he needed some pussy.  Maybe I already was.  I hoped so.

3.  CINCO DE MAYO

MY BIRTHDAY FELL ON A FRIDAY AND IT WAS LIKE NONE OF MY PREVIOUS ONES.

The teacher for my last period before lunch and for the first period after
lunch had gotten together and planned a party for the whole class; they had
prepared sandwiches and bought me a birthday cake - I guess it was because
of my accident; they'd never done it for anyone else.

That evening was also unexpected.  My mom had a surprise dinner party and
had invited both Kurt and Ronnie, both of whom my family now accepted as
family friends.  Ronnie brought a birthday cake, one he had purchased from
the local bakery - decorated with American and Mexican Flags and rockets (I
knew what they symbolized; they were too big for the kind used on the 4th of
July.  No one else, probably Kurt included, caught on).  Dad even let me
have a glass of wine.  Saturday we went to Denver for the weekend in the new
car dad had bought from the drunk driver's insurance company's settlement,
which also included all of Pete's and my hospital expenses - even future,
related ones.

Kurt, being anxious, had filled in and filed my application for the Boy
Scouts and Monday, after supper, he took me to the weekly meeting of Troupe
19 for initiation.  It had been a shitty day weather-wise and it was a
shitty night, too - rain, rain, rain, all day long and very hot and muggy,
which it had been for a week  - totally unlike the area for early May.  The
other, Assistant Scout Master, Daryl Lockley was there and I met him along
with the Scoutmaster, Bob Coleman.  Lockley was really something to look at,
but I remembered Kurt said he didn't think he was gay.  I didn't think he
was either - but what do I know about it.

After the meeting, Kurt didn't take me home; he took the highway toward
Parsons like the day we'd gone to Prairie Creek, but he turned off on a dirt
road just past the bridge over the river.  The bandaging on my back had been
removed and it was much better but still tender.  I was now able to lean
back on a seat when riding in a car.  As soon as he left town he'd told me
to take it out and it was then I noticed that his was already out and erect.
  He held the steering wheel with one hand and we kept reaching over playing
with each other's cocks, me still left-handed.

I wondered what we would end up doing and presumed it would be some
variation of oral, knowing Kurt.  After he found a place to park and we got
into the back of the delivery van and took our pants off, he started kissing
me, playing with my dick and I still didn't catch on until, while kissing
me, he began rubbing around my asshole and then started sticking his finger
into it a little ways.

Remembering what Ronnie had told me, I acted like I didn't know what he was
doing and asked him:  "What are you doing that for Kurt?"

I might as well have not asked because he didn't answer; he seemed to be
even more aroused than usual, Instead of answering, he told me to get on my
knees.  What he did next totally floored me.  Using both hands he spread my
ass cheeks apart and started to actually suck on my asshole.  Shit, he was
getting to me.  II didn't know the damn thing was so sensitive.

Again I asked him what he was doing and he told me he was sucking my ass.

"Shit, I know that, why are you doing it?"

"Cinco, I need to fuck you; I want you so bad.  I've wanted to fuck you for
months and I can't wait any longer.  I'm going fucking crazy just thinking
about it."  As soon as he stopped talking he resumed sucking my asshole -
shit, you'd have thought I had a cock back there as well as one in front. I
really didn't understand it.  Nothing Ronnie had done prepared me for this
but I had to admit it was exciting even though it was a bit weird. But,
primarily, I kept thinking of what Ronnie had told me - "Don't let him get
it all the way in the first time."

So, to play the game, I asked Kurt, "Is fucking me going to hurt?"

"Not if I take it easy."

"If it does will you pull it out?"

"Yes, don't be afraid, I'm not going to hurt you."  He lubed my boy twat and
his seven inches, placed me on my back, raised my legs up and mounted me -
just like I'd dreamed of Ronnie doing it next time.

He was about half way in, stroking slowly and I was about to tell him to
take it out because it hurt too much.  Before I had time to form my
intentions into words the van lit up as though it was mid-day and shook with
the loudest noise I'd ever heard. I didn't need to be told what had
happened; I knew lightening had struck the ground and damned awful close,
too.  It scared the hell out of both Kurt and me.  Kurt lost his erection; I
damn near shit. Lightening struck again in the back of the van this time and
we watched, out the window in the back door, as it struck the ground what
seemed to be a block away.  Then, fucked if I didn't start crying - 12 years
old, one year from being a teen and here I was bawling and pulling my pants
on as fast as I could.  We climbed over the back of the front seat to the
front and Kurt wrapped his arms around me.

Still bawling, I managed to ask, "What are we going to do?"

"Lighting never strikes a vehicle, we're going to get the fuck out of here
as fast as we can."

We got back on the road and had barely traveled a block when he asked me to
get his cigarettes out of the glove compartment and light one for him. He
wanted to keep his attention on the road because it was now raining harder
than ever.

I didn't ask but I lit another and smoked it, thinking it would help me quit
the crying and it did, or else it was the fact that we were getting away
from the area.  Lightning kept striking all around, each time in a different
direction.  Kurt remarked that he'd never been so close to a lightening
storm that you could actually see it striking the earth.

"Joey, I'm sorry it turned out this way.  I know you were scared to death
and, if it's any comfort I wasn't far behind you.  I was about to cry
myself."

"Really?"

"Yes, really."  I don't know if he was telling me the truth, despite the
fact that is what Boy Scouts are supposed to do, but it made me feel better
anyway."

"There's some mints and gum in the glove compartment, Joey.  You better
doctor up your breath before we get home."

It rained all the way home but the lightening stopped.  We ended up with the
giggles thinking of what happened - the timing of the lightening, all the
other crazy things that had happened - it was a fuck that got terminated
mid-way in an abrupt manner that neither of us would ever forget.  When we
pulled up to my house all the lights were off which meant mom and dad and
Carol were in bed and I should go in the back door.  Kurt drove me around to
the alley and the light above the back door was on as was the light in the
attic bedroom.  Kurt leaned over, kissed me and I ran to the back door.

Pete was getting ready for bed, naked as usual, but it didn't bother me any
more.  I told him we could switch bunks now if he wanted to.  He said to
wait until my cast was off.  I got into bed and began thinking again about
the storm.  I didn't even have to tell Kurt to quit.  I couldn't wait to
tell Ronnie what happened even though I knew he might not believe it.  For
that matter, I could hardly believe it myself.  In fact I thought someone
was telling me that my fucking men was bad and not to do it anymore.

Tuesday, after I'd gotten home from school, Kurt called, apologetic and I
told him it wasn't his fault.  He said weekdays were bad for him and guessed
we'd have to wait for Saturday - he was fishing to see if I'd be able to
make it on Saturday.  I assured him I would be.  It was a nice, warm feeling
knowing that you were wanted.

Saturday, in Kurt's bed, things went much smoother - the rain had stopped
late Monday night, and he was fucking me gently, which was no big surprise.
Kurt was gentle in everything he did with me.  But, I was about to tell him,
as Ronnie had suggested, that it hurt and it would have been the truth but I
couldn't do it. I let him keep stroking his big piece of cock meat in and
out of my boy twat.  Like it had with Ronnie, it began to feel good, not
painful.  Fuck, maybe I was already a whore.

He made me have my faux cum and he had his genuine one.  When I felt him
climaxing inside my twat, I wrapped my legs around his back so he couldn't
take his cock out.  He collapsed atop me and we remained motionless as his
cock, of its own accord, softened and backed out of my twat. I was glad it
had happened the way it did.  The lightening had been a terrifying
experience for both of us.  I just didn't have the heart not to let his
love, his sexual lust take its course this time

Bicycling home, I felt like the luckiest kid in the whole world. Since Kurt
had started helping Pete with his homework, my life had really changed -
more sinful but for the better as far as I had concerned if, indeed, fucking
men was sinful instead of nature taking its course.  Ron and Kurt were both
the most in my opinion and probably anyone else's opinion.  I loved both of
their huge cocks; from there, though, it was a different story because
loving them both was for different reasons.  I reasoned that it was because
they were two different people.

4.  SUMMER VACATION

SCHOOL WAS OUT FOR THE SUMMER AND NEXT SEPTEMBER I'D BE IN THE SIXTH GRADE
AND MY SECOND YEAR IN JUNIOR HIGH SCHOOL.

The local school district wasn't structured with Middle Schools.  The cast
on my arm had been removed but I was still squeezing a rubber ball that the
doctor had given me when I left the hospital - I'd gotten used to squeezing
it probably and everyone who saw me who had experienced a broken arm said it
did miracles toward getting strength back in your hand and forearm.

Scouts turned out to be inoperative during the summer months except for a
statewide scouting jamboree, which I didn't go to - I didn't have enough
scouting experience to enjoy it and it was expensive.  Kurt, though,
attended for the whole week that it lasted.  While he was gone, Ronnie and I
had several jamborees of our own.   Our jamborees didn't have a planned
schedule of activities but all of them were certainly celebrations and, in
addition, were quite erotic. Sex with Ronnie just seemed to get better and
better and each time seemed to get more prolonged - what with the foreplay,
the sex act and recently a long period of after play.  I really like the
after play because it led to another sex act about half the time.  I'd begun
to reason it out what was so special about sex with Ronnie.  It was because,
like everything else he did in life, he was always capable of injecting a
little humor.  Too, even though he never reduced it to words, I knew he
loved me and I damn sure loved him.

As a matter of fact, one of our sexual celebrations during the week turned
out to be a very special occasion.  Ronnie had his head at the top of the
bed and mine was facing the foot of the bed - we were sucking cock
simultaneously - 69ing.  Well, if you've concluded anything so far from
reading my story it's probably that you know I'm at my happiest with a man's
cock down my throat - especially Ronnie's big motherfucker.  I love that big
dick, I really do.  Anyway, I was sucking it in such fashion to keep it
exciting and pleasurable for him but at a speed to make my joy last as long
as possible - why hurry, we weren't apt to get caught, I wasn't sucking him
off through a hole in a partition in some fucking public toilet in a park.
But good things do have a way of coming to an end of their own accord, don't
they?  My good thing started coming to an end when Ronnie told me to grab
his balls and pull on them hard while I was sucking, emphasizing the word
"hard".

Pulling his balls seemed to make him harder than ever and his cock seemed to
be longer and his cockhead seemed to be bigger.  I got so fucking excited I
fucking started to cum even though I didn't want to cum yet and I knew
instantly that something was wrong - or sure as hell different, anyway.  The
feeling was so fucking intense I couldn't believe it - I'd never felt
anything like it.  To compound matters, Ronnie's motherfucker was pouring
cock juice into my mouth in such quantity that I was having trouble coping
with it.  Both of us were making sounds - goofy sounds, half moans, half
grunts and I knew that mine were not voluntary - not something I was
consciously forming and emitting, of course I had a big cock in my mouth at
the same time and thought that had something to do with it.

Ronnie reached around, grabbed my butt and started pulling it toward him as
if it would force more of my dick into his mouth - there wasn't any left to
push in, though.  I realized what had happened when he pulled his mouth off
my cock and started milking it. I had passed puberty.   And my boy cock was
in his mouth the first time it shot a real load - it was what he had been
hoping for, but I had never fully realized how special he thought it would
be.  He was beside himself.  I thought he'd never stop kissing me - not that
I objected.  Quite the contrary - I loved it.

"Oh, Chino, I cant stop kissing you, your breath smells so sweet, I love it.
  It smells of my love juice.  You are the cutest, sexiest, filthiest little
boy-whore a man could ever have.  I love you like I've never loved anyone in
my life."  So, Ronnie's dream had come true for him and mine had come true
for me - he thought of me as his boy-whore.

You've heard the expression "good in bed".  Shit even I've heard it.  One of
Pete's friends used it when talking about some girl they knew when they
thought I wasn't listening.  At the time I thought - how in the hell could
being in bed with Ronnie be anything else but good - a handsome, young man,
a big motherfucker between his legs that he knows how to tease with and fuck
with and not hurt you and, despite small nuts, always shoots a big load of
cock juice.

I'll always remember this particular summer for two entirely different
reasons. One day Mr. Johnson came over with a large bouquet of flowers from
his garden for my mom and chatted with us for quite a while - until he
remarked that he'd better go and get his groceries out of the car and into
the house. The very next evening my mom saw his obituary in the local paper.
  He'd died during the evening of the day he'd been talking to us.  I'd
never felt so sad about someone dying as I did about Mr. Johnson.  I'd liked
him so much and I just couldn't imagine him dead.

I wanted to go to his funeral and my mom protested, saying children my age
weren't expected to go to funerals.  But I kept insisting and in the end
prevailed.  Oh course, I went with my mom.  After the church and graveyard
services, we attended a reception in the church basement and Mrs. Johnson
was really pleased I had come, telling me that Mr. Johnson always thought I
was special and I told her I thought he was special, too.

Being confined to a wheelchair Mrs. Johnson went home with one of her
daughters to live and put the house up for sale.  After a while a man who
worked for the same company as Mr. Johnson had worked and on the same night
shift, bought the house.  After school started I had an assignment to write
a short story and this is one of the many instances where Kurt helped me, as
I've previously mentioned.

He said to write about a personal experience and one that I'd found
emotional for some reason - it made me happy, or sad, or one I'd gotten
involved in for a cause or had led to my helping someone.  So I wrote a
story titled "Mr. Johnson's Light".  In it I told about Mr. Johnson, how I
liked him, how he'd brought a box of chocolates to me when I was in the
hospital and about his sudden death and my going to his funeral.  I ended
the story telling about his wife moving and someone else buying the house,
saying the light was still on every night, still shining into my attic room,
but it never seemed to shine as bright because I knew it wasn't Mr.
Johnson's light.  It was published in the school paper.

5. WITH AUTUM CAME TRAGEDY

SUMMER ENDED WITH LABOR DAY AND IT TURNED OUT TO BE THE MOST BORING DAY OF
THE SUMMER.

I decided the best cure for my boredom would be to pop in on Ronnie.  It was
3:30 in the afternoon - the same time I popped in after school, when it was
in session, and also the time that he was getting up, drinking coffee and
still naked or just out of the shower with a towel wrapped around him.

As sometimes happened on nice day s, the door to the building was propped
open with a six-inch piece of railroad track, where that came from was
anybody's guess. The window at the back of the hall was wide open and Mrs.
Patterson, the manager, was about halfway down the hall vacuuming the rug.
I was in the hall, rolling my bicycle along with me until I noticed the door
to Ronnie's apartment was open and, oh God, Ronnie was on the floor, on his
back, wearing only a towel, and he was looking at me with the saddest, most
frightened eyes you could imagine.  It was as he were pleading, maybe even
praying "Help me, please help me Cinco."

He was conscious but barely.  Blood was everywhere over his chest.  He'd
been shot.  I wanted to pray but knew there was no time right now.  The
outlet Mrs. Patterson was using for the vacuum was only five feet from
Ronnie's door, I yanked the plug out of the outlet, the vacuum stopped and
Mrs. Patterson turned to face me.  I hollered, "Quick, dial 911, Ronnie
Chavez has been shot. Please hurry."

TO BE CONTINUED