Date: Tue, 05 Mar 2024 00:05:47 +0000 From: butters2020 Subject: The Boardwalk part 2 (gay, young friends) It costs money to maintain Nifty. If you enjoy these stories, consider donating to help keep the site up and running. You can do it here: https://donate.nifty.org/ I enjoy getting feedback. If you like the story, please email me, and let me know. My email is butters2020@protonmail.com. If you didn't like the story, my ego couldn't stand it, so email someone else. Look for my other stories under the Prolific Authors page. The Boardwalk, part 2 By Butters2020 Me and Mom and Katie are staying on Bedford Island until Katie has the baby, but Dad is only going to be here two weeks. He took two weeks' vacation. Then it's back to work, so he'll be home, not at Gram's and Gramps' beach house. This summer might not stink as much as I thought it would. I can't wait for those two weeks to be over. Last night I didn't use a coaster when I put my glass of tea on the coffee table which got me a smack. So today I'm all Mr. Manners with thank you sir and please ma'am and let me help with the dishes, ma'am. Mom told me not to worry about the dishes and to go have fun. I went straight to the boardwalk before anyone could tell me to stay within sight. It was still early so most of the Boardwalk shops and attractions weren't open yet. I went to the coffee hut for a hot chocolate. A couple of older guys bought some donuts. I watched them throwing donut pieces up in the air for seagulls to catch. Two minutes later they were covered in seagull shit. Ten seconds after that, pissed off seagulls that wanted more donuts chased the idiots down the beach. Chet came up next to me with a waffle on a stick. He offered me a bite but I shook my head. We watched the dopes running from the seagulls. "Half the people that come here are fucking morons, Hank. The other half are perverts. I can't get mad at any of 'em. Idiots and perverts keep my dad in business." I gave him the fisheye. "Which half do I fall under?" "I hope you're a pervert. Otherwise, we got nothing in common. You wanna ride the hell hole or sneak into the Hootchie Hut?" I tried to hide my disappointment. "Oh. I guess we could check out the rides." He finished his waffle. "Cheer up, Hank. A trip to the blowhole is always on the schedule, if there's a mouth on the other side. I need to check with Clay to see if it will be open for business today. He always knows. We're lucky, ya know. Sailors pay five bucks to use the blowhole. We get to use it for free." "Do the sailors get a ticket, or pay your dad or what?" "Willikers! Dad don't know nothing about the blowhole. Sailors give Clay the money. I think he keeps one dollar and the rest goes to whichever Hootchie girl is on the other side of the wall." I never thought about whose mouth was on the other side, or that there might be more than one dick sucker. Chet leered at me and pointed at my crotch which was giving the ol' thumbs up. "Looks like you're ready for the hole right now." I blushed and put my hands over my boner. Chet did the opposite and lifted his hands from his crotch, exposing his own tentpole. "Nothing to be embarrassed about, Hank. You and I are simpatico, my friend." He patted his boner. "I suggest we remedy the situation." I looked around at the tourists: old couples, moms and dads and little kids, some with cameras, some with ice cream cones, all walking around right next to us. "I'm not THAT perverted," I said. "And there's a policeman standing by the souvenir shop. I'm pretty sure jacking one out on the boardwalk is against the law." "So is jacking one out UNDER the boardwalk, but I do it all the time and I haven't been caught yet. Whatdaya say? You feeling like Henry or Hank? Henry's gonna walk around with a boner all day but Hank can get some relief right now." He jumped over the railing onto the sand ten feet below the boardwalk. I waited only a few seconds before jumping the rail myself. The beach was fifty yards away. People were laying on rented lounge chairs soaking up the morning sun. Little kids built sand castles closer to shore and other people were swimming in the ocean. Chet ignored them and walked underneath the wooden boardwalk we'd been standing on thirty seconds earlier. Sunlight filtered throught the cracks in the boards above us. People chatted and walked overhead. "You ready?" he asked, not bothering to lower his voice. He dropped his shorts and briefs and his four-inch boner pointed up at the fat lady using the nickel telescope above us. "Bet she'd like to aim that at this, huh?" he said, making his boner bounce up and down. "She'd have to, if she wanted to see it," I said. "Big talk from a small cock. Let's see the goods. Or are you gonna chicken out?" I didn't want him to call me Henry again so I pulled my shorts down, freeing my boner. "Willikers!" he said. "You're uncut! I didn't notice that in the Hootchie closet." He reached for my pecker and roughly pulled my foreskin back. "Ow! Not so hard!" "Sorry. I never seen one before." He did it again, more gently. I won't lie, it felt good. "Do mine," he said. "How? You don't have any skin." "I don't have as much as you but I got enough. Just use your fingers on what I got. Like this." He grabbed my hand and used it to jack him until I got the hang of it, then left me to it while he went back to working my dick. "You're not gonna pass out when you cum are you?" "I only do that from mouth cums," I said hopefully. "You'll be fine, then. I ain't no homo." The way he said it made it clear what he thought about homos and even though I had a boner and was horny and it felt great when he was jacking on me, I also felt sad and ashamed, knowing that if he knew my secret, he wouldn't want to be my friend anymore. "Yeah, me either," I said, ignoring the fact that here we were, two boys jacking each other's peckers. A girl squealed down in the water when her boyfriend tossed her into the surf. "You sure no one can see us?" "I'm...I'm sure." He was starting to breathe hard. "Just keep going." I've thought about what it would be like to feel another guy's boner. I used to think of ways to get my friend Jimmy to do jack with me but he's so Holy Joe I knew he'd never go for it. I wondered if Clay's and Chet's peckers looked the same. The head of Chet's boner curled down at the end, right where it joined the shaft. I know it was mean, but I hoped Clay's boner didn't do that. I pretended it was Clay's pecker I was feeling and that did it. I spewed goo. Chet kept jacking on me till I was done spewing, then he grabbed my hand and wiped my sperms from his palm onto mine. "Rub your cum on my cock. Hurry, I'm gonna nut." That was so nasty. And so hot. I rubbed my sperms on his hardo and jacked on him again. "Oh yeah,' he said. I jacked faster and he made these huffy noises like he was the big bad wolf working on the little pig's house and then he spewed his goo. Most of it landed on the sand but some of it got on my hand and mixed with mine. We put our peckers away and stood there grinning at each other. Chet said, "Let's go rinse off." He ran off toward the surf and I followed him. We splashed in the waves long enough to rinse off the sperms then headed back up to the boardwalk. By then all the rides were running and the shops were all open. Chet got us a free ride on the bumper cars cuz he knows the guy who runs it. I was doing pretty good on the bumper cars until I saw Clay. He was wearing that dumb jacket. He saw me watching him and tossed me a wink and the flipflops and that distracted me and Chet rammed into me so hard I got whiplash. We went on a couple more rides, paying for some, not paying for others. At lunchtime we shared a giant pretzel with mustard and broke a footlong hotdog in half one piece for each of us. We plopped onto one of the benches facing the ocean and ate. Clay walked by. "Having fun?" My mouth was full of weenie so I nodded while Chet said, "Yeah, it's great having Hank around." Clay ran his fingers over my buzz cut the way Katie does sometimes but when she does it, I don't get the ol thumbs up in my crotch. I crossed my legs, hoping they wouldn't notice. Clay said, "If you feel like fishing at around one o'clock at the blowhole, I'm pretty a fish will suck your worm." He tossed me a wink. I got more than flipflops in my belly this time. I nearly choked on the hotdog I was chewing on. "Excellent!" Chet said. "Tell the sailors it opens at one-thirty so me and Hank get first dibs." Clay said, "I'll tell 'em One fifteen," and he left us. I checked the Timex on my wrist. "We've got ten minutes." Chet pointed to my boner. "Why do you use a watch when you're walking around with that sundial?" "Like you aren't horned up too?" "Brother, I popped wood the second he said 'blowhole.'" I looked at his lap and saw he was telling the truth. "How are we going to get to the blowhole like this?" "No one's looking at our dicks. And if they are, they're homos and liking what they see. Let the fairies look. Come on." I never thought about that. I get boners for no reason sometimes. When it happens in public I feel like my hardo stands out like a sore thumb. Or like a sore thumbs up. Now I wondered if someone noticed it, was it because they were checking out my dick? Heck, maybe I should start looking at boys' crotches when I'm out in a crowd. How many boners have I missed? Chet and I walked to the Freak Show. We passed a group of Sailors posing for Lily, one of the Boardwalk photographers. One of them looked at me and Chet and grinned at us. I wondered if it was because he saw our boners and liked them, or if Lily had told them to say cheese. Chet nodded to the guy collecting tickets at the entrance to the Freak show and we went inside. This time before we got to the hallway that led to the blowhole, we passed a man wearing a turban and long purple robes. He had a pointed beard and a waxed moustache. It looked like his eyebrows were waxed, too. They were pointy and stuck out past his eyes. He looked like a Hindu Swami or an Arab. He wore big rings on all of his fingers, even the thumbs. When we passed him, he put his big hand on my shoulder, keeping me from following Chet. He raised one of his hairy eyebrows and his black eyes drilled into my blue ones. I was paralyzed. After a couple of seconds I squeaked, "What?" He said with a voice like thunder, "I know your secret." I thought my heart was going to stop. Chet was halfway down the hall. He turned around to see what had happened to me and saw the turbaned man talking to me. "Put a sock in it, Zoltan," he said. "Come on, Hank." Zoltan let go of my shoulder but his eyes still held onto me. "Zoltan knows," he said in a lower voice. "Don't tell," I whispered. I tore my eyes from Zoltan's and ran down the hall, catching up with Chet. My boner had not only gone away, but it felt like it had turned inside out and crawled up inside my body. I followed Chet down the hall but before we turned the corner I looked back. Zoltan stared at me, stroking his pointed beard. "Don't pay that old faker any mind. He says the same shit to all the rubes." It wasn't shit though. Something in his eyes held me to the spot. The mermaid mummy might be fake but Zoltan was for real. It was only the memory of the mouth on my pecker that kept me from turning around and running back to the beach house. I followed Chet to the blowhole closet. He pulled down his shorts before the door had closed behind us, the zippo already in his hand. "I'm going first," he said. That seemed fair. It was his dad's Hootchie Hut, not mine. I saw just a quick glimpse of his boner before he stuck it in the blowhole. I didn't have to ask him if a Hootchie Girl was on the other side because almost at once he moaned, "Willikers!" and tried to push his butt clean through the wall. My boner came back in less than a second. I pulled my shorts down so I'd be ready as soon as Chet was finished. A week ago, I would have felt embarrassed as all get out to be standing with my pants down in front someone, especially with a blue vein throbber. Now it just felt sexy. I remembered how he grabbed my butt day before yesterday. I guess that didn't count as homo to him so I grabbed his butt cheek and squeezed it. He clenched his butt and pushed against the wall even more and made his big bad wolf noises. I was never this horned up before. I wouldn't last long when it was my turn. Chet huffed and puffed some more and finally blew the house down. He sighed and pulled out of the blowhole. "Willikers, that's the best feeling in the world!" My eyes had adjusted to the dark. I could see his pecker was super hard and twitching but there wasn't any sperms on it. The Hootchie had sucked him clean. "Your turn," he said. I nearly knocked him down getting to the blowhole. I ran my fingers along the wall, looking for the hole. They slipped through it and someone grabbed them. Their touch was so soft, almost like they weren't there at all, like you would only feel them if she wanted you to. I pulled my fingers out of the hole and replaced them with my hard pecker. Feather light fingers softly traced my boner from root to head which drove me crazy. They pulled my foreskin back, much more gently than Chet had when we were under the boardwalk. The fingers were replaced with lips and tongue and wetness, surrounding my boner. I whimpered like a little baby. Behind me Chet was rubbing my butt. I felt the Hootchie running her fingers through my hairs, smoothing, and plucking at them softly for a second before sucking my boner back into her mouth. She sucked hard and soft and hard and soft while Chet rubbed my butt. I whimpered and made noises because I couldn't make words. My eyes rolled into the back of my head and I made a new noise while my pecker exploded and I saw pinpricks of lights in the back of my head where my eyeballs were aimed. And then just like before I was on the floor, and Chet was shaking my shoulder gently and patting me on the cheek and looking worried. I opened my eyes and he stopped looking worried and laughed. "Goddam, Hank, I wish I could cum as hard as you do." I must have still been halfway loopy because I thought I saw an eye at the blowhole, watching us. Saturday Dad was back at the beach house so I decided it was best if I stayed at the beach instead of going to the boardwalk. I'd already told Chet and Clay I wouldn't be able to see them until Monday. Chet pouted and called me Henry until Clay told him to shut the fuck up and give me a break. Chet pouted some more and called Clay "Clayton" which he must hate because he told Chet the blowhole would be out of service all weekend. Clay said since I couldn't go to the boardwalk, the boardwalk would come to me. I must have looked confused cuz he said, "I promised to teach you to be a dip. How about I come by the beach and give you your first lesson?" That gave me triple flip flops. "Okay!" I said. "But not at the house." "Fuck no. We'll do it on the beach. Be sure to have your wallet with you." So, Saturday morning I was on the beach in my shorts, throwing seashells into the water until Clay showed up. He picked up a shell and sent it skipping over the surf. "You ready for your lesson?" "Yeah," I said. "Keep skipping shells. Whatever the mark is doing, try to blend in if you can. Or at least don't stand out." I was all set to toss another shell but my arm dropped to my said and I gaped at Clay. "That checkered green coat you wear makes you stand out like a whore in church." "Damn skippy," he agreed. "But by standing out, I'm invisible." I gave him a "what the hell does that mean?" look. He laughed and said, "How would you treat a whore in church? Would you stare at her and give her a big Christian hug? Or would you pretend you don't see her? What do you do when you see the panhandlers and Oddball Characters on the boardwalk?" "Look the other way so they'll leave me alone." "When I'm out making fat wallets thin, I'd much rather the marks look the other way. I don't mean to sound like a douche, but when I wear a bathing suit on the boardwalk, I get a lot more stares then when I wear the jacket." "I bet," I said. He was about to chuck a seashell but stopped mid-throw to grin at me. "Oh yeah?" I blushed. "I mean, I don't think you sound like a douche, that's all." He tossed the shell. It skipped twice before going kerplunk beneath the water. "You're going to have to get a checkered coat of your own," he said, tossing me a wink and a flipflop. If you show up on the boardwalk in those trunks people will call you Hunk instead of Hank. "Okay, NOW you sound like a douche," I said. "Let you in on a secret?" I nodded. When I'm dressed like everyone else, some of the sailors come on to me." "For real?" I thought of the sailor who grinned at me and Chet. "Hard to get away with picking pockets when someone won't stop staring at you." "Why don't you beat them up when they hit on you?" My dad told me when he was in the marines in Korea a fag sailor came on to him and he kicked the sailor's ass. Clay held up his hands and wiggled his fingers. "And risk injuring the tools of my trade? Which reminds me, the wardrobe part of the lesson is over. Time to get to the mechanics of picking pockets." He reached into his pocket and took out a set of house keys. "I guess you'll want these back." I admit my jaw flopped open. I shoved my hand into my pocket. "When did you take those? He held up my wallet. "Just after I took this." I checked my other pocket. I held out my hand. "Gimme my penknife." He handed it to me along with the keyring and wallet. "Okay now this time I'm going to tell you when I'm doing it, but I want you to close your eyes and see if you can feel it." I put the wallet in my back pocket, the keys in my front right pocket and the knife in my front left pocket. I closed my eyes. Clay said, "you ready?" I nodded. After a few seconds he said, "Open your eyes, Hank." I did and Clay was holding all three items. "No way!" He laughed and gave me back my stuff. "This time I'll be a little less subtle." Clay said. I closed my eyes again. I felt something this time, but only just barely. His fingers were feather soft, like they weren't there at all, like I could feel them only because he wanted me to. I could sense the brightness of the sun behind my closed lids. Then I felt soft fingers inside my pocket, barely an inch from my pecker. My pecker gave Clay the ol' thumbs up. One more second and he'd know I had a boner. If he didn't know already. I opened my eyes and backed away, dislodging his hand from my pocket. "That's enough lesson for today," I said. "You sure? We've only just started. I was going to have you try to pick my pocket next." I glanced at the pockets on his shorts and was reminded all over again how impossible it is to hide a boner when you're wearing shorts. His hard dick was right there. No wonder the homo sailors hit on him. There was no curl at the end like with Chet's. It was longer and thicker than mine and Chet's were. I could even make out the shape of the head. My dick was harder than it had ever been, even when the hootchie was sucking it. When I looked at Clay, I knew he'd caught me looking at his boner. "I'm sorry," I whispered. I ran back up to the house. "Hank, wait!" A couple minutes after I slammed the door behind me Clay was knocking on it. I ran upstairs as Dad went to open the door. I'm dead. He's going to tell him. I locked myself in my room, but that only delayed getting killed because a few seconds later Dad rattled the knob. When the door didn't open, he knocked. "Henry? Henry, open the door." Would he believe me if I told him I wasn't looking at Clay's boner? I opened the door. "Some boy brought these to the house. He said you left them on the beach." He held out his hand with my penknife and wallet. "You've got to be more careful with your things." He handed me the keys and knife. "We're going out to dinner tonight, so don't go wandering off." "Yes, sir." He gave me a funny look. "The boy who brought them looked familiar. Didn't I see you fishing with him last week?" "I don't know." "Don't lie to me, Henry." I tried to meet his eyes, but they eyes were harder to mee than Zoltan's. He said, "I don't want you hanging around with these island people. Especially him." Of course. We're going to be here six months and I'm not allowed to be friends with anyone who lives here. "Why?" His hand was quicker than the eye. He could have been a magician at the Freak show. I rubbed my cheek where he'd popped me one. "Excuse me?" he said. My face stung but I knew better than to cry. Only pussies cried, according to Dad. And I knew from experience that if I cried, he'd give me something to cry about. "I won't hang around with any island people. Especially him." "That's. better. Be ready to leave for dinner at six. There won't be any reason for you to go outside until then." At six we all left for dinner at the Lighthouse on the Boardwalk. They had the best popcorn shrimp. The Boardwalk was different at night. The freakshow was closed but the Hootchie Hut had a bunch of blinking lights on it that were turned off during the day. Instead of two Hootchie girls giving the crowd a sample of the Forbidden Bora Bora Dances, there were four of them. With the Freak Show closed, Zoltan had his own tent set up by the frozen lemonade stand. The flap was tied open. Zoltan sat at a round table waiting for customers. Mom noticed his tent and said, "Oh, Warren, let's get our fortune told! We've been so worried about what the future holds lately." Before Dad could answer I blurted, "NO!" They all looked at me. Mom said, "Don't you want to know if you'll be an astronaut? Of if Neil and Buzz will walk on the moon?" "He's just an old faker. He says the same thing to all the rubes. Don't waste your money on him." Dad said, "The boy's right, and I'm hungry. Let's go." Mom said, "I know it's not real, but it would be fun." "There are ways to have fun that don't waste two dollars," Dad said. He put his arm around her waist and they kept walking toward the end of the boardwalk where the restaurants were. Katie gave me a dirty look. "What do you care if Dad wastes two dollars to gives Mom five minutes of fun?" "Supposing he tells her you'll be an old maid? Or that your baby is going to have two heads? How much fun will that give her?" She looked at Mom and Dad, walking a few feet in front of us. Lili was trying to take their picture. Mom tried to stop walking and get Dad to smile and pose but he pulled her along and told Lili to beat it. "I hate him," Katie said. "He's a bully. He's mean to me. He's mean to Mom. He's mean to you." She turned to me. "He's going to be even meaner to you, Henry. As soon as he realizes you're not like him." "What do you mean, not like him?" My voice squeaked. Has she already talked to Zoltan? She ran her fingers over my short hair. "There are lots of bullies out there, Henry. No matter how they treat you, don't stop aiming for the moon." Dad was in a good mood after dinner. He let us stop on the Boardwalk to watch a juggler. He even gave me a nickel to put in the juggler's upturned hat. When we passed the carousel the calliope music was loud enough to make us stop and watch. Mom smiled shyly at Dad. "Remind you of anything?" He said, "Children, how do you feel about a family ride on the carousel?" I started to answer but Katie put her hand over my mouth. "You two go. We'll wait for you." Mom smiled at Katie. She and Dad joined the line at the carousel ticket booth. "What did you do that for, Katie? I wanted to ride, too." "You can ride the next time you sneak over here. You think I don't know you come here every chance you get?" I must have looked scared. "Oh, calm down, I'm not going to tell." She pointed to one of the souvenir shops. "Come on. I want to buy some postcards while Dad's not here to say I can't." While Katie looked through the postcards, I browsed the T-shirts and coffee mugs. Against the far wall was a rack with newspapers, paperback books, and magazines. One of the magazines was called "JR." At the top of the magazine it said, "the strength of America lies in its youth" and at the bottom it said, "the boy's guide to physical fitness." There was a picture on the cover of a boy a couple years older than Clay. All he wore was a tiny black triangle of cloth over his privates. It wasn't enough to hide his pecker, which I saw though the cloth. It gave me an instant boner. A big yellow sticker on the magazine bragged that inside were 8 Vivid Color Pages! The magazine was fifty cents. Katie was still looking over the postcards. I took the magazine off the shelf and quickly flipped through it. Oh, man! There might only be eight pages in vivid color, but even the black and white pages had pics of hot boys who were practically naked. Like the boy on the cover, their privates were covered but I could see their peckers underneath the jockstraps or whatever they were. In some of the pics they weren't wearing any clothes at all; someone just painted Tarzan loincloths over their peckers. The paint wasn't that thick. Their dicks were plain as day. I closed the magazine and put it back on the shelf because my boner was so hard it had to be showing. I saw Clay standing outside, wearing his used car salesman jacket. He'd seen me looking at the magazine. He tossed me a wink and not only did my stomach do a flip flop but my boner throbbed so hard I was scared I was spewing goo. Clay did a bodybuilder pose and pointed at the magazine and then pointed at me. He nodded like he was giving me permission to buy it. My face grew hot. "Jesus, Henry, you're more sunburned than I thought," Katie said. She put her postcards in her purse. "The merry-go-round ride will be finishing soon. We should get back before Mom and Dad miss us or that'll be the end of his good mood." She noticed me staring at Clay. "Ignore him or he'll be asking for a handout. Don't even look at him." Don't look at him? I see him every night when I'm alone in bed, spewing goo