Date: Fri, 1 Aug 2008 17:21:32 -0500 From: Andy Smith Subject: Asleep on the Beach Chapter 17 Asleep on the Beach Chapter 17 Disclaimer: Please be advised that under aged youths are advised to not read this material; all others are welcome. Writer's Note: I suppose it has been a good while since I told you guys how grateful I am for all the email I have received on this story. Hopefully, each of you have received a prompt and courteous response from me by now...if you did not receive a response there has been some problem with one of our systems...or whatever...so, write back and I'll get on it right away. Still, the response has been remarkable, I'm very grateful, and want each of you to know that you make this effort worthwhile. I'm not sure how long this story will go on, but for now I'm plenty motivated and inspired to keep it going. Some of you have written in fears that I am wrapping the story up, or winding it down -- not yet. I'll try to give you all a heads-up in advance to prepare you for that eventuality, but too...I'm hoping that the story will have its own natural conclusion (btw -- I DO know already how the story ends!). I've also received many emails regarding Lenny (his character) and his future in the story as it seems Liam and Jason have pushed the youngster aside. I appreciate your fears, and can certainly see why and how these thoughts are coming to your mind. I don't want to "spoil" any of the plot for those who are patiently waiting for each installment (so I won't), but let me remind you all that Lenny is the inspiration for the story (hence the title). It's not likely he gets "written off," as is often the case in TV Soaps, nor is it likely he'll be relegated to a side show in his own story! So, my advice is for you guys to keep tuned in and see where the ride stops. Oh...I did have one particularly aggravated reader who is upset with Liam's mother (using some very colorful language to describe the poor woman). What is interesting for me (from the other side of the desk) is how difficult it is for you (faithful reader) to see beyond the mists and vale of the writer's mind and to grasp where the story is leading, therefore some of the character developments are perhaps received as being harsh, un-warranted, or worse - contrived. This is an interesting dilemma. I could just come out and "spill the beans," but then the story would be over and pointless -- wouldn't it? If you read the last chapter first, you might have a better grasp of where we are going, but I'm not sure you would enjoy the ride so well. So...hopefully by now most of you can trust that I am not trying to be flippant, manipulative, or ornery with the story. There is a natural development, and I most certainly respect each of you and your commitment to stay with us this far. Now...let's get to what we all really want to know...who in the hell put the damned blanket on the boys?! Any comments are welcomed; you'll get a prompt and courteous reply: andyoutwest@live.com Prologue Let's forgo the damned prologue this time. Shall we? ... Chapter 17 Damnshitfuck! Ahhh crap! Shitshitshit! Grrr. What in the world? Why? Why me? Why does this same goddamned fucking shit always keep fucking happening to me!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Okay. Breathe. Don't panic. Life on earth isn't over. Breathe. The sun is up (well...mostly). I'm not bleeding (I hope I'm not anyway), so nobody stabbed me in the night. Breathe. Slowly, painfully slowly, I began to feel the panic quell and my heart function nearing a normal rate. I blinked back tears, refusing to give in to them this time. I realized I had a death grip on poor Jason's arm because I felt him stirring. Maybe that was what brought my mind around to actually engage all circuits (well...as many as a 14 year old boy can have working after a night like I just experienced...and given my present predicament...but you get the point...right?). I relinquished his arm enough for me to wiggle around to lie on my back, and he adjusted himself to my new position and was now comfortably (for him) atop me in an odd sort of way. He made sweet morning mumbling sounds as if he really didn't appreciate being roused and wanted to get back to his dreamland. My instincts were to scream, panic, and fall apart. But, damn, Jason was so sexy lying there on top of me that I quickly forgot my panic attack and was relishing in this new sensation...waking beside the boy I loved! That joyous thought began to wane though and I knew we needed to consider what may have been revealed to whomever the intruder was that entered my room un-announced to cover us in our naked slumber -- but it was worse than that -- it wasn't JUST nude boys in the bed...oh no, we weren't just NAKED, but we also reeked of SEX! My last thought of last night was Jason still fully inside me and me on my stomach...he was slobbering on my shoulder, and I could feel his semen leaking from my ass. Oh God. It was soooooo great...the love...the sex. But now...oh man...what are we going to do if it wasn't Dad? OMG!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! MOM! Awe, FUCK! "Dufus," I nudged Jason finally, "wake up...we've got a problem." Jason roused slowly, then my words settled in on his waking psyche, "Ummm...yeah...I'm horney as a rooster in a hen house!" he mumbled with a sleepy voce. "I'm as hard as a ball-bat...wanna do this some more?" a grin spreading sexily across his face as he turned his cuteness toward my face and puckered for a morning kiss. Couldn't resist that -- could I? So, I kissed him. God. He is so warm, so...so...yum! Is this how it will be from now on? I mean...can we be together? Will we be together? Will we always love each other like this? In a hundred years -- will we still want to snuggle and kiss in the mornings? I felt his hard-on hot against my leg where it bends at my pelvis; he was leaking precum -- so was I for that matter. Oh man, I just couldn't resist; my anxiety and fears slipped gleefully to the back of my mind, my mind deciding it was much happier focusing on the treasure at my fingertips. Taking his maleness into my hand I squeezed a bit making him groan with satisfaction. With twice the vigor, he kissed me deeply and positioned himself on top of me, causing our dicks to be smooshed between us and pointing up towards our abdomens. Provocatively, Jason began humping me, sliding his lower torso...more like grinding himself into me. The friction between us and the heat of our boy tools was driving me insane. Our kisses turned desperate as Jason increased the tempo. This wasn't passion, it was craving, it was hungry. When he stopped I protested and tried to pull him back into our erotic embrace, but having position and leverage on me, he easily lowered himself down my body, kissing as he went...until he reached my pulsing dick...which he took inside his mouth with slow, but deliberate care, sliding his wet tongue all around my shaft as he lowered his face on my member. He didn't stop until his lips were at the base of my dick, and I could feel his breath on my pubes. There simply aren't enough words to describe what I was feeling with myself deeply impaled in my boyfriend's...Jason's mouth, his arms and hands giving passionate caresses over my thighs, hips, buttocks, abdomen and even my sac. The more I moved beneath him, the more he got into his work, and as I began humping up into his mouth, he started groaning and slurping. Raising off my dick several times he took me by his hand and planted wet, slobbery kisses to my dick head, then would plunge back down taking most of my length back inside his warmth. Before I was ready...my dick erupted inside his mouth. With the ferocity of a street nymph, Jason took all I gave and loved every bit, if the noises coming from him could be believed. As my dick wilted, he kept sucking and pulling on me with his mouth as if he wanted to revive me and start over...only I was WAYYY too sensitive to let him keep doing that...finally he relented to my pleas to stop and my tugs on his arms and pits. He allowed me to pull him upwards toward my face and we shared my semen leave-overs that he hadn't swallowed already. The smell of sex was pungent between us. I was reminded of a comment from that old 80's movie, ET...where the one little kid accused the other of having "penis breath," which made me smile even while we kissed. Jason pulled back slightly and queried, "What?" "Penis breath," I whispered and pulled him back to my mouth for more. He giggled into my mouth, and we rolled back and forth a few minutes, locked in a wild embrace and I found myself on top...not sure exactly how that happened, and I even made a mental note that my ribs weren't as sore this morning...must be the love-workout-routines! As Jason did to me, I began to work my way down his body to reciprocate what he had just expertly done to me. Only, I wasn't so smooth as he, as I was still kind of stove up and sore. I guess I needed more exercise. Ultimately I ended up worshipping his dick. I nuzzled his balls with my nose and kissed him deeply and passionately beneath them and downward toward the beginnings of his crack. As I jacked his dick with one hand, the other found its way to my mouth where I slicked up my middle finger. Placing my finger at his puckered entrance, I lifted my mouth to his penis and lowered my mouth as I entered his hole with my finger. Jason didn't know which way to twist, or what to moan most about...the sensations in his ass, or on his dick. I could sense him pushing downward in attempts to accept and devour my probing finger with his ass, and at the same time trying to raise his hips to get his dick deeper into my mouth. I could relate. All or nothing. He needed me as much as I needed him. We had crossed over a threshold last night. The walls of reserve hadn't crumbled -- they had disappeared. We were carnal now; this was raw sensuality. In a way, I guess it was innocence that had left us, and a new knowledge filled the vacuum. Knowledge of good and evil. This certainly wasn't evil. God, no...this was bliss. This was magic. This was...was JASON! His taste on my palate was unmistakable. I was memorizing his every feature and contour with my tongue, my fingers, my arms, my sense of smell -- hell -- even my hearing...I was hearing him now in an intimate way that people just don't know other people. His whimpers, the satisfaction, the desire, the lust...my god...I was drunk with the love of this boy. My fingers now knew what to do with that lump deep inside him...I caressed him there with my finger. With fucking type motions my finger went back and forth over that mass in his butt. Relentlessly: over, and over...touch, withdraw...rub, withdraw...touch, withdraw...feel, withdraw...all the while I was going up and down on his dick with my mouth at the same patient, persistent pace. I didn't try to go all the way down on him as he did me...instead I concentrated on my tongue, on his penis head. As his face contorted and head rolled back and forth I watched him, and I saw his entire body tense and bring itself to the magic crescendo of orgasm. I knew he was going to burst into my mouth before I tasted him. But soon, I had to concentrate on taking it all as there was so much that I was afraid I'd lose some...no way I was going to let that happen! What an incredible sensation. The throbbing, pulsing, dick spewing boy essences over and over and over. He kept bucking up into my mouth...quite literally fucking my mouth, and I kept drinking him in. Incredible. Exhausted, I collapsed on top of him, with my face on his stomach, and his dick nestled under my chest. Our breathing morphed into unison. I squeezed him tightly...I wanted this moment to be forever. My fears of death and parting began to sneak back around the hidden recesses of my mind. I wanted forever, but feared this...THIS...would never happen again (subconsciously my fingers tapped his taut belly as these thoughts meandered through my psyche). I squeezed tighter. He played with my hair. His fingers tugged at me to come to him...I obeyed them, as I'd do anything he asked me for the rest of my life. How I wished at that moment that he could make us last forever. We kissed. Slower this time. On purpose this time...the purpose of expressing love. Not lust: love. The blanket. I remembered. Eventually, I got him to slow down so I could show him my...our problem. "Dude," I said, turning my head so he couldn't kiss me into silence again, "stop a minute, willya? Look, this blanket wasn't here last night." He was obviously pouting that I had stopped him from his morning breakfast of my lips and whatever else he was deciding on...hmm...that could be an interesting thought...no...have to stay focused here. "The blanket." I said matter of factly. "Yea," he said, "it's a blanket okay," and leaned in for another kiss. I turned my head again. My breathing not yet fully under control. Our smells combined. I wondered if the smell would drift into the hall. "Stop...no...don't STOP...but just listen," I reasoned. "Look -- MY blanket is on the floor! This one (I pushed a fistful toward his face) WAS in the HALL closet! Don't you get it?" "No," he answered honestly. Grrrrrrr "Dude," I protested, bordering on whining, "who the hell put the goddamned blue blanket on us while we were fucking naked in my bed!" I hate it when I get so worked up that I can't control my tongue like that. I don't like cursing. It makes me feel cheap...out of control. But THAT is PRECSELY what I felt like just now...out of control. Jason WASN'T helping either. "Oh," he said, absentmindedly brushing aside my fears, "your Mom did that early this morning." Stop the world. I'm getting off here. I sat bolt-upright in bed, spilling Jason off with scarcely a notice of my bruises, cuts, sore ribs, hurt lip...nothing mattered. The image of my own mother walking in to see me in such a compromising position at this age and development of my body was so shocking to me I was instantly numb from my neck down (I know, this had happend the other day with Lenny and me..but this time ....ohh damn-it...it was different this time...okay?). I spun around in the bed, pulling the blanket with me, my feet and legs still tangled up in its web, and tried to stand up. I failed miserably, as the dratted blue blanket was particularly clingy this morning and would not let me out of the bed gracefully. Unceremoniously, I plopped right out on the floor. This, of course made me instantly...and painfully I might add...aware that I really WASN'T numb from the neck down and I let out a yelp! Jason was useless to me as he was rolling on the bed holding his sides with fits of hysteria. The door opened and there was Dad standing in the doorway. Shit. "Shit!" I exclaimed at the sight of him and the realization I was still nude, erect, and exposed. I want to die. "Enough with the profanity," Dad said as he strode across the room. Effortlessly, he lifted me with his hands under my armpits to sit back on the side of the bed (How do adults get so strong?), and somehow had managed to also free me from the grasps of the evil blue blanket (I was quickly settling my mind on the fact that the blanket was responsible for my plight and therefore should be ever banished from the kingdom of my room), as he placed it back on my lap partially covering my shame (glory?). He said nothing of my nudity, nor of Jason's now that I think of it, but simply told us to get dressed and come down for breakfast. At the door, he stopped, turned after a pause, and said over his shoulder, "I'm sure we'll have plenty to talk about this morning. Don't loiter up here all morning...your Mother and I are waiting downstairs." He disappeared, closing the door as he left the room. Doom. What else could there be? We were toast. Perhaps more literally than I'd ever imagined a kid (kids) could be. I brought my hand to my face in a classic pose of misery, shook my head in disbelief, and whimpered something about the end of the world. I felt the bed shift as Jason moved over to sit beside me. By now, he had subdued his laughter and realized my deep concern, and put his arm around my shoulders in a typical boyhood embrace. For my part, I was flabbergasted that HE wasn't mortified at having been seen totally naked in my bed...by both my MOM (did I mention my MOTHER saw US absofuckingluetly NAKED?) and Dad. I looked sideways at him, and I guess he could read my mind. "When I realized she was in here I was afraid to move, but she just walked in and put the blanket over us, Dude. There was nothing I could do." Jason continued rubbing my shoulder with his arm around me. "I thought we locked the door last night," I said while looking at the dratted door that equally betrayed me (us), along with that evil blue blanket. "I woulda swore we did too!" Jason said, realizing that very fact about the same time as me. "It don't matter none though, `cuz we are busted anyway!" Drawing a deep breath, then letting it out slowly, a sense of dread began to settle in on me. It seemed as though I was afraid at first...afraid that we HAD been caught...not it was a dread of facing the reality that we indeed were not only caught...but most certainly were about to be executed. Mom would tolerate a lot of shit from me...I was a good kid afterall. I mean, I do whine a lot (but who doesn't?), but I make good grades, stay out of trouble, do as I'm told...mostly. But, no, she wasn't going to tolerate a gay faggot in her house -- a gay faggot screwing his brains out with every boy he knows right under her very nose. (Okay...relax peeps, I don't like that word anymore than you do...I'm just telling you what was happening inside my own noggin right then...hold the flames `till the end of the chapter at least). Nope. This wasn't going to go good. Look. Sometimes, a kid can hold out for hope that reason and love will settle in on some blow-ups. Occasionally, a boy could depend on one, or the other parent coming to the rescue. But, every now and then, you just know you're in the shit that ain't about to smell good no matter how much perfume you try to mask it with. This, was one of those moments. A moment of dread so real that I knew beyond doubt there was simply no answer. I steeled myself against the overwhelming urge to crawl back into bed and cry my eyes out. I'm tougher than that...right? Right. Still, as I drew in another breath I felt myself snubbing like a little kid does after he's been crying so long there aren't any more tears. Jason squeezed me tight. "Let's get a quick shower, that will help us both get our bearings," Jason offered. Having no better plan, I numbly stood up and let him lead me out of the room and to the bathroom. I scarcely recall him starting the shower and getting me and him in there, but I do remember I responded to his gentle washing of my skin, the warm water, and the smell of soap...soap and Jason. After he'd washed and rinsed us off -- he turned me under the water to get the soap off - he reached past me to turn of the shower. We dried off -- no, he dried us off, then led me back to the bedroom, sat me on the bed, and went to get us some clothes out of my drawers. Knowing where everything was, he came back armed with all we needed to be comfy and had me and him dressed in board-shorts, tee-shirts, underwear, socks, and no shoes in a flash. I was slipping into a walking coma. I was totally useless to him, but he didn't seem to mind. When he had is both dressed and in our sock-feet, he pulled me up off the bed and into a tender hug. "Can we do this together?" he asked tenderly. I was uncertain of what he meant. My gaze told him of my confusion. "I'm here, Liam. Whatever happens, happens to both of us. Friends to the end." "This -- l..looks like the end." I said while biting my lip to hold back tears I refused to give. "No." Jason said firmly. "No. This is NOT the end. Liam. Look at me. AT ME!" he insisted. I raised my head from his shoulder and pulled away from his warm hug so I could comply. "We're not done. No one can make us be done, if we don't want to be done. I don't know what is going to happen with your Mother. Hell, I don't know what is going to happen with my Father. But I know this," and he leaned in and kissed me lightly on the lips. "I will not let anyone take you away from me now...or ever. No one might understand that we love each other, but we do...we have for a very long time now, only we just couldn't say it to each other. That was stupid. We should have trusted each other more, but it don't matter, because we KNOW now. And now...now, I don't ever want to go back. We're together. We might not be able to TELL anyone else...because, well...you know why...kids at school and shit...but even so, I won't ever let anyone take you away from me. I don't know how I can keep this promise. But Liam Nielson, I WILL keep this promise." Wow. Damn, couldn't stop the tears this time, out they spilled without asking permission. Me and my tear ducts are going to have a long serious conversation...soon...but not right now. Comments welcome! andyoutwest@live.com