Date: Mon, 10 Dec 2007 08:21:06 -0500 From: J.J. Subject: Constantin This story involves sexual situations between young teen boys. Or at least there's definitely a situation developing which could get very interesting by the next chapter. I hope so, anyway. And you the reader are probably hoping so as well, but just in case you really AREN'T (difficult as it is for me to imagine) or if you're not even supposed to BE here in the first place, then you must exit immediately. So everybody who's supposed to be gone is gone now, right? Well, good. I'm glad that's taken care of. Constantin chapter one When I was in elementary school, I'd look up diseases in the encyclopedia trying to figure out which one would be the best to catch. Something I'm sure many of you can relate to. Or maybe not. I guess it was a bit strange, but to me, being sick had it's advantages, because you just stayed in bed and got to read what you wanted to and watch TV and all. And everybody in the house would be real concerned; sometimes even worried. Very much so. Which was really cool, you know? Oh, and being able to eat in bed while you were watching TV. Now THAT was cool! Which is why when I had pneumonia in the 2nd grade, I went back to school even when my mom said if I didn't feel like it I could stay home at least one more day BECAUSE what I was hoping for was a relapse. Only it didn't happen. Darn! But I was STILL hoping and occasionally trying to get myself sick even in the 8th grade. Mononucleosis seemed a good choice until I discovered it usually was the result of kissing some girl. And I didn't WANT to kiss no damn girl. And I hadn't ever considered the possibility of kissing a boy at that time. Well, even if you can't relate to trying to get yourself sick, maybe you CAN relate to being 13 and in the 8th grade. That and being weird. Or at least thinking you were. And if one of your favorite pastimes was to run naked through the woods just about every single time the urge hit you, well, it's easy enough to understand. Why you might feel like you were weird, I mean. Because you WERE. Only I also thought I was unique. I could not imagine anyone my age wanting to do such a thing. So I often felt guilty about it, not realizing that almost all 13-year-olds are weird. I didn't know that much about other 13-year-olds because I was a geeky little bookworm and I didn't hang out that much with anybody. But anyway. One cold January night I was walking home. It doesn't usually get down to 5 degrees in southern Indiana, but it does happen. And the wind was howling. At least 30mph, which would give you a wind chill of about -19. (Which would be around -15 celsius without factoring in the wind, or -28 if you DO factor it in.) So I was in a hurry to get my little 13-year-old butt home. Which was a little over a mile away if I took a shortcut along a trail through a patch of woods. I had a cold. Only unless I had a temperature of at least 100, I wasn't sick enough to stay out of school. That's what my mom said. So I got to thinking maybe if I were to take my coat off, and my shirt, AND my tee shirt and go barechested all the way through the woods, my cold would get worse. Maybe I'd catch the flue. Or even pneumonia again. So that's what I did. (Took off my shirt and all.) Only then I thought, "Well, why stop with just my shirt? Why don't I just strip NAKED?" So I did. See, I TOLD you I was weird. I guess now you might believe me, huh? Because THEN I thought, "Why don't I just leave my clothes here, run all the way through the woods, and back? That should GUARANTEE a fever!" Really, I was WEIRD. But I also hated school. Most of the time I was bored out of my skull almost. So I DID. (Leave my clothes there.) And wind chill of -19 or not, when I got undressed, my penis was sticking straight out. And not only that, soon as my plan to leave my clothes behind a bush and run at least three quarters of a mile popped into my head, it went up to it's maximum angle in about one second. And away I went, with the sub-Artic air whistling around my ears and my stiff penis whipping wildly about. And for awhile it was wonderful. I forgot all about how cold it was. The more I ran, the greater was my ecstasy and there's just no other way of describing it that I can think of right now. Whippedy whippedy, whip whip whip it went (it was still skinny) and it just kept feeling better and better!! Then all at once, SPURT SPURT spurt... it happened. Really! I didn't even have to touch it, just kablewy! Only then I felt a bit chagrined, not to mention very, very COLD. And to be honest, I was more than just a "bit" chagrined. Words just can't do justice to the wave of self-loathing that washed over me. Well, there ARE some words, but... I don't want to totally ruin this story, but you know how it is, right? While in the throes of passion you forget EVERYthing, then it's over and you feel drained and if you're like naked and it's -19 out there, you feel kind of stupid, you know? So anyway, shivering and shaking, my teeth chattering uncontrollably, I was making my way back to my abandoned clothes, when all at once things took a turn for the worse. Imagine that. Because all at once I heard voices! FAMILIAR voices and laughter! And they were fast approaching. Me. Without any clothes on. So about to come down with hypothermia or not, I DOVE into the bushes and hoped for the best. Well, at least they didn't see me. And they were running fast as they could, so it wasn't long until they were out of sight. And I guess they WOULD be running fast as they could, because they didn't have any clothes on either. Aside from their shoes and socks. (And by the way, I had my shoes on too. I mean I wasn't INSANE.) But anyway, there were four of them. Tyndal Williams (our 8th grade class president), the Brody twins and Constantin. More about Constantin later. You BET there will be more. And more about the other three too, actually, but first I guess I ought to tell you that I DID get sick over all that. Really. It worked. For eight days. Only for six of those days I wasn't able to enjoy myself all that much. Although I did have a good dream. It was a feverish dream, but still... It was sort of a nightmare at first, only then it got better. I was naked again. Out in the woods. Only at least I wasn't freezing my ass off, matter of fact, I was burning up. But anyway, I was naked and here they came again, Constantin, Tyndal and the twins, only this time I was just standing there like a deer caught in the headlights. And they were laughing at me, even though they were starkers as well. But the reason I was just standing there was that I couldn't take my eyes off their dicks. So the nightmare part was that they KNEW what I was staring at. Shit, they knew EVERYTHING because I was getting hard. In FACT, I was about to shoot off! Then I did. That's the good thing about wet dreams, if you dream you're about to shoot off, you really ARE about to. But of course it's also the BAD thing about them, because it almost always happens too soon. And in the case of this dream, they were getting closer and closer... oh geez, they were gonna make me TOUCH them (squirt)... Shit! (See, I'd never touched anybody else's dick in real life. But in my dream I was about to. Right on the VERGE.) And I exactly knew whose dick I wanted to touch first. Constantin's. I'd always had a crush on him, I guess from about the 2nd grade. He seemed to be everything I wasn't. Supremely confident in himself, even if he was quiet. He always seemed to have great common sense, while that never seemed to be one of my strong points. Not bookish, but he had no problems in school. I WAS bookish, but had all kinds of problems in school, mostly because the subjects I was interested in weren't the subjects being taught at that moment. And right from the start he always exuded an air of tragic mystery. Not that he ever ACTED tragic, but it seemed that he SHOULD because he was a Romanian orphan, adopted as an infant by the Tylers. (So really, having been adopted as an infant would pretty much rule out his ever having been aware of his previous tragic circumstances, but then I was always big on tragedy, in a Dickensonian kind of way, so there you go.) But one good thing about being a Romanian orphan of tragic circumstances was that no one had ever gotten around to cutting off his noozle. I'm not sure, but I guess he was the only male in our town who even HAD a noozle. So of course THAT was very interesting, why back in the 5th grade when he let me see it one time, I even let on about it. But nothing ever came of this. Well, it was just one of those "I'll show you mine if you show me your's" kind of things you know. Not surprisingly, Constantin was the instigator, and really if I hadn't been so damn shy and such a klutz when it came to sports, we might have become pretty good friends, since he only lived about a block away from me. Like me, he was small for his age, but he was a good athlete. Wiry and fast, with good hand-eye coordination. He had jet black hair. Big tragic dark brown eyes. Smooth olive brown complexion. And a noozle. But I never let on, I just COULDN'T, and as we grew older, the possibility of us ever being more than just nodding aquaintances seemed very remote. And I never got to see his noozle again until the night him and his friends went streaking by me. So I really didn't get as good a look as I would have liked, but I did notice that his had grown long and skinny. Pretty much like mine (didn't see any hair, either) except his looked a bit longer because of that wonderful noozle. It was a LONG noozle. But you know, ANOTHER good thing about having a high fever is that if you're fixating on something it can get pretty surreal and what happened with me was that all at once I was seeing his dick bounce around in slow motion. So in the end I DID get a good look and in retrospect my imagination wasn't that far removed from reality. I'm not suggesting that you should go out and get yourself so sick you've got a temperature of 104, but in my case it produced some really nice waking dreams. I knew what our class president looked like without his clothes on. And it wasn't bad. He was the only one who had hair. A nice little brownish-red bush. And a decently large dick. Which was bouncing stiffly pretty much at horizontal. (GASP!) I'd seen our class president with a boner! Actually Tyndal was pretty nice. He was very popular (how ELSE would be elected class president?) and his folks were well off, but he never acted like he looked down on anybody. He was just friendly, that's all. But I never EVER would have thought... Well shit. I thought it was pretty interesting, that's all. And then there were the Brody twins. They were in the 7th grade, but their dicks were almost adult-sized. Only like I said, no hair yet. But boy oh boy was it ever interesting seeing their identical dicks bouncing around in slow motion! Well, they WERE identical twins you know. Tommy and Dorsey. Both very blond. And while it might seem sterotypical, they WERE holy terrors. Seemed like they were ALWAYS into some kind of mischief. Which they usually got away with, partly I guess because it was hard to figure out which one actually did it. But I always felt sort of intimidated by them. I guess because I figured if they ever really got to know me, they wouldn't like me. Back then I had some pretty serious self-esteem problems. Really, I'm going to try to get away from all this negative shit soon as I can; you'll see; but I really didn't think much of myself. And having arrived at the conclusion that I was probably gay just made things worse because the fact is my old man was real damn homophobic. Whole town seemed to be really. And it was a small town. So I had a dirty secret I never wanted to get out. I didn't know if Constanin and the other three were gay, but I doubted it. They COULDN'T be. I HAD heard of circle jerks and I'd heard of streaking just for the pure hell of it, all of which seemed to be fun activities all right, but I could not imagine my ever being asked to join into such activities. I spent most of that summer up in Bloomington taking some geeky extra credit classes at IU. I had an aunt and uncle who lived up there, which took care of most of the expenses, so my old man let me go. And it would have been pretty nice except for my cousin Jeff. Not that it was all HORRIBLE, mind you, but it sure could have been a lot better. Jeff was 17. And unbeknownst to his parents, (and to me, prior to that summer), he was also gay. But not all gays are nice, agreeable people and I just never liked him that much, OK? So to make a long story as short as I can, I discovered there was a lot more to gay sex than just circle jerks and streaking. Before the summer was over, I'd done it all. And it was pretty intense at times. It felt good. Occasionally AWESOME. So no, it's not like he raped me. But I never felt good about myself. So of course I was a long ways from feeling good about being gay. The me that wants to be a nice person will say that I hope somewhere down the line he finds somebody who can love him, the REAL me says he's a damn jerk. So OK. Back home that fall, things sort of started out badly. Mostly because all the girls thought Constantin was cute. Well, they ALWAYS thought he was, but before he'd mostly ignored them. NOW he was flirting. So it looked like there was no possible way... well, you know. Maybe he was on that slippery slope that leads to marriage. Although at least he wasn't dating them yet. And besides that, in a way things were better. Because of geometry. Because he was having some trouble with it and I wasn't. Not that I'm a brainiac when it comes to that stuff, but I got by OK. So seeing as how he still lived close by, it wasn't long until he wondered if I could come over and give him a little help. Yes! YES! Even if at first you would have thought I was going out on a date with some girl or something. I mean, you know, at first I was real nervous. And very self-conscious. And I kept stuttering. But eventually I was almost at ease around him. It was like we were friends. But of course there were things about myself I could never tell him. In a way I sort of wanted to bring up that streaking incident... "Oh by the way" I'd say casually, "You know last winter? When it was so cold? Well, I just happened to be walking home and... and..." and then I'd start stuttering. And blushing. I was sure of this. So I didn't bring it up. But you know one thing geometry's good for? Rocketry. He was good at making them (with warheads), I was good at figuring out where they would probably end up. (Preferably not in Miss Jackson's bedroom.) Soo... before long we were hanging out quite a bit. If I'd still been like ten years old, I think I could have convinced myself we were almost best friends and I wouldn't have minded Tyndal or the twins being around either. Because once our rockets started really taking off, they were around often enough. But shit, Tyndal was going out pretty steady with Melissa, who was the hottest girl in the 9th grade, and the twins were flirting with just about every half-good-looking girl in school, even if that's about all there was to it; just goofing off you know... so what ever they MIGHT have done the year before, they now seemed to be grown out of. I knew all about that. Because I'd looked up a lot of stuff at the IU library. It proved to be quite informative. And I was very sad. Because I'd missed all of it. And I guess this sadness I kept deep inside caused me to occasionally be a bit thin-skinned. My feelings were hurt way too easy. I KNEW I would never be as close to Constantin as he was with Tyndal and the twins; and it was ESPECIALLY galling in the case of the twins because they seemed utterly lacking in... well, you know... sensitivity. But this sometimes getting upset over nothing (that I could admit to) DID put a strain on our friendship. I mean I came pretty close to blowing it. In early October Constantin broke his leg playing soccer. Well, that's what we call it. What's football just about everywhere else is soccer over here. But anyway, I heard about it and worried sick after school let out, I went by his house to see how he was feeling. Much to my relief the others weren't around. Tyndal or the twins, I mean. So here he was home by himself still in his gym clothes with a cast up to his knee and in pain and they were out running around. But that was good. Because maybe now he'd see just how good a friend I was. So of course I was concerned about how he was feeling. "Well, I hope it doesn't hurt TOO long" I said. "Oh, don't worry" he said, "I've felt worse. Besides, they gave me some pain pills. I'm a little doped up now. But it'll be all right. Don't worry about it, OK?" "I'll try not to" I said. "So do you feel like playing cards or something?" He yawned. "Not really. I feel kind of dopey. I guess I'll just watch TV for a little bit and then go to sleep... You can stick around awhile if you want to though." "Yeah, sure" I said gratefully. "But if I can do anything just ask, OK?" So about half an hour later he said, "I'll tell you what I really wish is that I could get in the tub. I don't much feel like standing up in the shower right now, but it sure would.." (yawn) ".. feel good to soak awhile. ... You suppose you could give me some help?" I shrugged and answered, "I guess so. So what you want me to do?" "Well, I might as well get these gym clothes off first" he said and he started undressing. (!!!) Although of course I acted entirely disinterested. Which was kind of difficult. I'm surprised he didn't hear my heart pounding. He wasn't going to get NAKED, was he? (Well, yes he was. (!!) That's what you usually do when you get in the bathtub.) So had it gotten any bigger? (It had. But then so had mine.) I'd finally started growing some hair, had he? (YES!) And it was cute too. A little black bush. It looked so soft and downy and... and I looked disinterested. Or at least I TRIED to. But I needed to say SOMETHING, didn't I? "So when did YOU start growing hair?" I casually wondered. And it felt like my ears were getting red. But apparently I hadn't blown it quite yet. "Oh, a couple of months ago I guess" he yawned. ... "You got any yet?" I'm not sure. Did that sound at all hopeful? I GUESS it did, I mean why would he care one way or the other? "Yeah, finally" I stammered. Oh, and I also thought he looked awfully cute with that cast. He just did, that's all. But anyway, he stood up and started wobbling slightly. Snapping out of it, I asked, "So you want me to help you?" "Yeah, I guess" he replied. .. "Umm, do you think you could maybe let me ride piggy-back?" My heart racing, I asked him neutrally, "You mean to the bathroom?" "No, around the block... Yes, to the bathroom. What did you think I was talking about? And watch out for my leg. ...Please?" So I got to tote him naked on my back to the bathroom. Life just couldn't get any better. When I kicked his door open he just about slipped off. "Hey, watch out!" he said, "See if you can't get a better grip on me!" "Well you're about to choke me!" "So push me up a little." Which is how I first got a feel of his butt. A GOOD feel. About where his cheeks meet his thighs. Holy SHIT! And I was sort of hoping to feel his penis pressed against the back of my neck. You think? Which I DID, but I WASN'T expecting him to get an erection. Right before he hopped on my back it was limp, then I thought I felt SOMETHING out of the ordinary when he was just hanging on and about to choke me, and then I knew for SURE he was stiff and getting harder by the moment. Which sure was an interesting sensation, even if at first I was more nonplused than anything else. I guess the biggest fear was he would decide it wasn't such a good idea for me to help him out. Maybe he'd want me to leave. Just my luck. And all because HE got a boner. Only he didn't say anything about it; he didn't say anything at all except I would probably have to help him get into the tub. "Yeah, sure" I stammered. His erection seemed a lot bigger than I expected and I sure was hoping to get a good look at it, so I was more than just a little relieved that he was taking it all in stride. Apparently better than I was. Because I was wondering if I ought to mention it or something. Only I couldn't think of HOW. Well anyway, once into the bathroom I let him slide off my back. He definitely still had an erection, but I was starting to believe maybe it wasn't so big after all. It was difficult to tell and while I was dying of curiosity, I was afraid to look at him right at that particular moment. He sat down on the commode. (The seat was down.) My heart was hammering. Trying to keep the tremor out of my voice, I asked, "So you want me to run some water?" "Yeah, I guess so" he replied. Then he added ruefully, "It looks like I got a boner." And I detected a tremor in HIS voice. I started to casually glance back at him but chickened out. Again. "So it happens" I said wisely. "Pops up for no reason at all; that's what it does to me; but if you're not worried about it, I don't guess I am either. So I mean how much water you want in the tub?" After a short pause he mused, "Well... since I'm going to keep my leg out of the water for now.. I mean it's all right to get it wet, but it might smart a little; so in that case... I guess I'll have to just about be laying down.. But I don't want to drown... Well shit! I don't think I CAN soak. Maybe we better forget the whole thing.... Unless maybe you want to give me a sponge bath." "What, you mean with a wash cloth?" I glanced back at him, then quickly looked away and hoped he hadn't changed his mind now that I'd actually looked at it. It looked almost like I looked when I got hard. Except for that wonderful noozle. It was stretched up tight and I still couldn't see his glans. You know what? I think it's downright barbaric, the way most parents are in our country, routinely having your noozle cut off before you even know it's there; I mean that sucks! But anyway, as it turned out, I hadn't scared him off. Because after all, if I was going to give him a bath, I'd HAVE to see it. And that's what he wanted. With a wash cloth. After I ran a little water in. If I would. I mean normally he wouldn't ask me to do that, but under the circumstances, if I could, he'd really appreciate it. So I said, "Oh, I guess I can." And so I CAREFULLY helped him into the tub. His boner hadn't subsided one iota, but for just awhile we pretended not to notice. I took a deep breath and began gently washing his face. He said, "Oh man! You have no idea how good that feels!" "Well, I'm glad" I said. And so I gently and cautiously washed his face, back, chest, arms, feet, one entire leg and about halfway up both thighs. But of course by the time I finally got around to his thighs I was becoming much MORE cautious. He wondered, "So you gonna wash my tummy?" So I shrugged and began doing just that and soon enough my hand brushed up against his rod which was nearly up against his lower abdomen. So it would've been sort of difficult to have avoided it. But he didn't say anything. So I asked, "How far down you want me to go, anyway?" I asked him that just as I touched his bush. I HAD to, if only for one fleeting instant. Because I had a sinking feeling I was about to out myself. It just hit me all at once. Which really is the damnedest thing, because it was at THAT point that he asked, "So I gotta ask you a question, OK? And really, it don't matter to me if you are, but... are you gay?" I was dumbfounded. I'm surprised I managed to say anything at all, but finally I managed, "I'm not sure. ...Maybe." Yep, I'd just outed myself all right. "Hey, Todd. Look at me, OK?" (That's my name, by the way. Todd. Guess I never got around to mentioning that before.) "I don't CARE if you're gay. Long as you don't care if I am. And as long as you can be quiet about it. That's all. 'Cause you know WHY we got to be quiet, don't you?" I almost started crying. Well, I just think that's a good place to end this chapter. The old cliff-hanger routine. I DO want to continue (first times are always really nice), but I guess it sort of depends on response. While I don't need CONSTANT reassurance, I do need a little from time to time. So I give up, SHOULD I? You know, continue? Please advise. jjjanicki@gmail.com