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The author “Chance” is me, “Larkin” This is an effort to re-compose my old roster into a new roster comprised old and new works, re-written and done with more careful editing. (omitting junk) I hope you will understand.
Please send comments to: larkin@tutanota.com...And I will respond
First published a year and a half ago under the title of “New York 1912” placed in the historical forum but a goodly number of people missed it. This gives me the opportunity to tidy it up and add to it here and there and restructure the ending.
This is a work of fiction. All disclaimers associated with homosexuality will apply without exception. There is reference to some drug use that is in character with the period but it is only incidental and not to proselytize. Persons portrayed in this story are fictitious or at best, coincidental.
Waiting for the Titanic
by Chance
Part 5
Myles Koenig
My mother didn't care what I did as long as it didn't interfere with whatever frivolous activity she was involved with at that moment. After her attempt to turn my discipline and up-bringing over to Mr. Robbie ended in failure, she lost resolve. After that, she went on to other things letting me do as I pleased. This coincided with my discovery and subsequent preoccupation with masturbation. If the maid came into my room and saw me naked and I was in the very middle of it, she'd just leave, pretending that she saw nothing. I had no worry because why would she risk her employment by informing my mother?
Anthony Grey, the first boy I lured up to the vacant floors of my house, came over only intermittently. I think that perhaps he believed in the Bible or one of the fathers at St. Paul's School had gotten to him and told him that dirty thoughts and filthy behavior will end him burning up in hell. Even at the early age of eleven I didn't believe in any of that nonsense. I'd liked to think that Tony only came over when his big balls were full and ready to burst and that if I jerked him off he was somehow absolved of the sin. It wasn't on the first time, but the second time I put my mouth on his large cock. I held him by his firm thighs and guided him so that the length of his erect cock went in and out of my mouth. In the midst of his internal conflict between good and evil, his urgency became so intense that it made him momentarily insane. Seeing him in this state was incredibly thrilling. By the third time, I let him inject stream after stream of jizum directly into my mouth. Once done, he was consumed with shame and excused himself only to return in desperation a week later. In contrast, I was beginning to develop a taste and appreciation for jizum. My own urgency was growing and Tony Grey was not to be my only encounter.
Myles Koenig was like me in a lot of ways. We were the same size and age. He had straight blond hair when mine was a bit wavy. On one day, his hair might be so long that it hung almost in his eyes and the next day, shorn back making him look like a different boy. Myles was devilishly cute and instantly adorable. We both realized the value of mischief and the draw we had towards each other was completely irresistible. I invited him to stay for the week-end and it was no surprise when he excitedly accepted.
(Addendum 1929: The Koenig family lived in the Hardenbergh Apartments on 72nd, across the street from the park. It's adopted name, The Dakota, was attributed to its remote location at the time that it was built. Mr. Koenig, Myles' father, worked for the German diplomatic service in the German Embassy.)
Myles gave me a knowing smile. He quickly sensed the power and potential of the boy's domain that I had staked out up on the vacant 5th floor. Both our cocks erected stiff and hard at the thought of total freedom and liberation one finds only outside the bounds of civilization. Not even an hour after his arrival we were already unfurling each other's clothing for detailed genital examinations. Not longer than a forefinger, both our cocks were rigid, red and naughtily scented from our retracted foreskins. Our cocks were identical. The tender tarnished brown scrotums were incredibly sensitive to each other's touch and perfectly pink boyholes ready for probing. To say that were overjoyed with each other would be an understatement. We spent the afternoon in an extended foreplay of stalking, capturing, pretend torture and imaginary slavery. The effect was so erotic that we were both quivering at each turn. When I sucked on his cock, it was a revelation to him and he took to it without question. He engaged in it as easily and naturally as I did. Neither of us had a drop of jizum but we would experience an extremely intense and exquisite orgasm and a minute later, be ready to do it again.
The maid called us down for dinner and the two of us were to eat in my bedroom because my mother was out for the evening. It was still early and we had been invited to go over to his parents home for dessert. It was only a 4 block walk and they wanted to see what sort of boy I was and if had good manners and if I was from a respectable family. In New York, the poor and the wealthy are often in close proximity to each other and one can't be too careful. Myles Mother was English and very beautiful. His father was a German business man and the dessert was rum cherries and cake. They were satisfied and Myles was allowed to return with me for the rest of the week-end. Once back on the street, we laughed out loud as if we had gotten away with the crime of the century.
Lying on my bed we had endless stories to tell each other. Stories about how and when we learned to jerk-off, methods used, peculiar practices and unexpected sexual encounters with this one or that one. Eventually I brought up Anthony Grey. Myles knew exactly who he was. I told him about seeing Tony getting a boner in class and how big it was. I told him about the look on Tony's face when he saw me watching his calamity. It is likely that Myles had the same impulses and thoughts about Tony's precocious masculinity as I did but he never acted on them. He wanted to know all the details. The discussion provoked renewed interest in each other and we undressed for bed. Naked and erect, I lifted my covers up so Myles could crawl in with me and together, merge our warm bodies. Arm and arm we were like Gemini and head to bottom were Pisces the fish from the stars and the zodiac. Out of curiosity and mischievous desire, I probed his bottom with my fingers. Myles was boyishly unembarrassed and positioned himself to make it easy. Penetrating his behind with my cock was so obvious and natural that it would be always primary between us from that point on. Pulling his legs back with me mounting him front to front was so perfect and was even made better through his desire to kiss deeply. Our mutual desire was then bonded by a simultaneous orgasm. This was quite an accomplishment for two inexperienced boys. Myles and I became inseparable and engaged in these secret activities constantly. We took up residence in each others homes and people were used to never seeing one of us without the other. In spite of that, I don't think anyone had the slightest suspicion. Everyone assumed that we were pure and innocent. We did our best to maintain the appearance of two polite, well-bred boys from St. Paul's Episcopal School. The hidden truth was that the two of us were wicked, dirty minded and fun.
All this changed when we both entered high school. Myles was being sent to a naval academy in Maryland. We would miss each other but neither one of us were the type to be bogged down with melancholia. Myles would be home for holidays and part of the summer and during those times we would renew our sexual affairs. In his absence, I immediately started keeping my eyes open for somebody else. This is, after all, the unspoken nature of homosexuality.
The Broome Affair
With Peter finally back to work delivering telegrams, I felt I had earned a rest. I know Peter couldn't wait to get back to work in his new, especially fitted uniform. He was sure that his new image would generate tips from admirers.
To use his words, "Especially from jaded wankers like you, Edmund."
It was spoken with the sort of sly affection I've come to expect from Peter.
As I have been for some time now, I resisted the urge to smoke my opium and sleep the day away and instead decided to bathe and breakfast at the Little Cup. If I was lucky I might run into Claude or someone like him who doesn't require quite as much work as Peter. Just as I was preparing to go out, I heard a faint knock on my door. Opening it, I saw the small figure. It was Billy. His cap was pulled down low, obscuring his eyes and he was wearing only an undershirt and rumpled pants. He quickly came in and sat on the edge of the divan. It was strange and uncommon to see a boy anxiously wringing his hands.
"Billy, what's the matter?"
He wouldn't say anything. His distress hung in the room like an ominous cloud of dread.
I gathered him up and took him down to breakfast with me. On the street I picked up my paper and did my best to behave as if there wasn't a crisis walking along side of me.
Breakfast ordered, I looked at him and calmly said, .."Ok Billy, tell me what's the matter?"
His usually high voice was so soft that I had to move closer to hear him. "The police came and took my father to jail."
"Why?"
There was a long pause until he said, "I don't know."
This only prompted more inquiry.
"He had a lady friend and now she's gone and no one knows where she is."
I asked him. "Are you worried about your father?"
He shrugged his shoulders.
The food seemed to calm him down and he spoke without emotion. "The nuns at school heard about it and they told the Sisters of Charity and they are all out looking for me so I came here."
He looked up at me and said, "They're gonna put me in an orphanage because there's no one else."
The Attorney
Mr. Williamson was our families attorney. We sat together in his office in the Singer building, downtown on Broadway. He asked about my Mother's health and gave me important statistics concerning our annuities.
Finally I said, "Do you know anything about a William Broome being arrested?"
He thought for a short moment.
"Yes, just this morning. It was in the Journal American. A grizzly murder of a prostitute down near Rivington street. According to the papers, the screams brought all the neighbors out. They took Broome to the Lafayette station still in bloody clothes and although he's not yet been charged, he admitted killing the girl. I know that judge in that jurisdiction and he'll hang."
I explained that I had his son sleeping in my apartment and that welfare services are already looking for him.
I explained to Mr. Williamson, "I want to do something on the boy's behalf, maybe send him to a private school. Going to an orphan asylum doesn't do anyone any good."
My lawyer understood completely and perhaps even an inkling of my deeper motives. "Suppose I approach Mr. Broome with your offer and in exchange I will appeal to the judge handling the case to consider life in prison rather than hanging?"
We both sat contemplating for a long moment.
"Mr. Howell, my advice is to keep the boy out of sight because if the newspapers and the city agencies become aware, he runs the risk of becoming a spectacle in the case and you and the boy will lose control of the situation. I will draw up guardianship papers and see if Mr. Broome will sign."
I returned to my flat trying to figure out how I got into this complicated state of affairs.
The Arrangement
On the way back from Williamson and Son law office, I stopped by Jamison's and ordered a small cot and bedding for Billy. If his whereabouts were to be discovered, not having his own bed would be a black mark against custody no matter how much money I would have. Guessing at his size, I also picked up some ready-made clothes.
During this time, I did not think of the consequences involved in adopting Billy Broome and now the weight of the decision was coming down on me. Everything happened so suddenly that it obscured the many details that would require my focused attention. I admit that I acted on emotion.
Once at home, I ran a bath for Billy and pulling up a chair next to the bath, I spent time discussing with him, his difficult situation.
He stared down into the soapy water. "I know about it, I was there when they started fighting."
Then looking up at me he said, "I did what I always done, I went out the window and up the fire escape to the roof and ran."
He would not elaborate or volunteer more than that.
"The police have arrested your father and it doesn't look good."
He appeared to be burdened down by the weight of the horrible situation but he was impassive concerning what may happen to his father. When I asked him if he missed his father there was a long silence.
Finally he looked up and said, "I miss my mother more."
This spoke volumes about the chaotic home he had grown up in. From what little he told me, his pregnant mother suffered neglect and battery at the hands of his father and that sort of treatment may have caused her death and that of her unborn. Billy's mood lighten a bit upon putting on his new clothes and helping me and the delivery boy move in and position his new bed.
But, Billy was different. He was quiet and subdued. I knew what it was like to go into a world of your own but I was worried. It was sobering to think that maybe Billy is carrying with him the same violent legacy of his doomed father.
Peter
The one thing I didn't think of in this calamitous dilemma was Peter. At half-past six there was a knock on the door and when I opened it, a cocky Peter strode right in.
Looking at the boy sitting on the cot, Peter stopped dead in his tracks. "Who's this little twerp?"
I quickly took this potentially explosive encounter out into the hall where Billy couldn't hear. I tried to explain the situation to Peter but he wasn't having any of it.
"So how am I gonna get fucked with him around?"
I responded. "I thought you didn't like being buggered?"
"Yeah I let you do it because you wanted to do it and maybe I was doing you a favor but seein you got him, why should I fuckin bother? Ya know what, Fuck you, Edmund!"
I had to hold on to him to keep him from running out. The last thing I needed was a sullen and resentful Peter running off into the night.
"Peter, you sleep with me and he's got his cot. You'll get it, just be patient. I want you to stay the night and let things work themselves out. I don't have a choice but I don't want to lose you, so please stay."
It was uncomfortable at first. I created a distraction by providing pastries and wine. Maybe Billy had a sense that getting along with Peter was very important. I can't say for sure but after a few glasses of wine, to my pleasant surprise, Peter and Billy began to warm up to each other. They were both from the gutter and that is what they had in common.
Peter lorded over Billy with a barrage of silly, verbal insults. "You got cross eyes you twerp!"
Billy responded with affectionate disobedience. "You farted!"
In defiance, Peter lifted his leg and did it again aiming a buzzing fart at Billy. They both rolled on the bed, laughing. They were at play and I stayed out of it in the hope that they would develop their own common alliance. After another glass of wine, I went to sleep on Billy's cot and let what may happen, happen.
The Headlines
The Broome Case hit all the papers. Details of the grizzly murder is described from every point of view.
A Mrs. Miller was quoted saying. "I always knew he was a killer and that poor girl."
Someone else said, "It was horrible she screamed for help and no one lifted a finger until she fell bleeding down a flight of stairs and Mr. Broome, the murder, fled out the back into the alley, I saw him with my own eyes!”
The police inspector Callahan in charge of homicide stated the young Miss Walsh had been brutally stabbed at least 25 times in the chest and lower abdomen.
The prosecutor in the case was quoted. "The accused Mr. William Broome, if found guilty, is sure to hang and if I know Judge Carrington, justice will be swift! Society must be protected from the likes of Mr. Broome."
The murder had even driven the sinking of the Titanic off the front pages. When we went to breakfast, I had to stop buying the morning paper so as not to expose him to news of the lurid murder trial being played out.
Brothers
All this uproar caused me to withdraw into the safe, worry free, detachment of my opium pipe. I lay on Billy's cot watching the 2 boys entertain themselves on my bed. Peter knew that I was a lost cause in this state so he occupied himself with the task of subjugating little Billy. I lay quietly watching them play. Peter was bigger and stronger and the younger one was no-contest. Without actually hurting him he captured Billy in various wrestling holds forcing the boy to struggle until he was red-faced. This consisted of a head lock, a scissor hold and other forms of bodily restriction. The older boy set himself upon Billy demanding total submission. When Billy gave him everything he wanted, Peter wanted more. He opened his pants and menaced the younger one with his stiff cock.
“Eat it!”
Peter was establishing a pecking order and this was important to him.
“Suck it, twerp!” Of course the boy did.
In spite of being more or less trapped in my own body, I was receiving a great deal of opiated pleasure from watching two boys at play on my bed almost as if it was a play on the stage.
“Now my balls. Come on, lick my balls!”
I hate to admit it but they were perfect for each other.
This was confirmed when they stopped to individually undress themselves. Up on his knees, Peter lorded over the younger one presenting him with his up-right cock.
“Lick it, use your tongue!”
Billy's subservience was essential. Peter needed to preserve his own sense of masculinity. With Billy under and Peter over, the boy's legs were pushed all the way back granting him access to Billy's bottom.
For me, the viewer, This was the first time I had ever seen Peter stick his tongue up someone's ass. He was preparing Billy for a fuck. Using only spit, What would transpire before me was the most energetic an perfect coupling I had ever witnessed. Once entry was achieved, legs pushed back and maximum depth accomplished Peter went at it as if in a fury.
Peter's act and objective was entirely selfish but he was giving the boy such an intense and memorable fuck that it was liable to bond them together. I was familiar with the sounds and symptoms of Peter's ejaculations but I could not tell if Billy was just moaning or if he had cum or if he had cum again.
After it was over they rested in each others arms giving me the comfort and feeling that maybe they had become brothers.
Manhattan Civil Court
A partner in the Williamson Law firm, a Mr. Hayden addressed the Judge.
"Your Honor, I am the proxy representing the condemned man, a Mr. William Broome in authorizing the transfer of the guardianship of William Broome Jr. to a Mr. Edmund Howell a resident of New York City, 165 West Tenth Street."
Mr. Williamson spoke representing my family and myself. As guardian, Mr. Edmund Howell will be liable and responsible for the care, education and support of William Broome Jr. until the age of adulthood. Billy stood in silence and watched while old men made decisions about the issues concerning his life. Mr. Hayden signed the civil documents for Billy's father and then, I signed 3 separate copies, one for Billy's father, one for me and one for the Civil Court and just like that, it was over. I can't remember all the wordy procedures in the court room that day but at the age of 24, I had suddenly become a parent and I knew it would change me.
The finality of the affair was exemplified when a week later, Billy's father, William Broome, was hung.
Please
send comments to:
larkin@tutanota.com...And
I will respond