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(Disclaimer) This is a work of fiction and most all disclaimers apply. Regardless of the name, none of the characters in this story are based on real people, living or dead. It is a story about behavior common to most boys and is consistently denied or hidden from view. Even though this is a work of fiction, This is an authentic representation.

Please send comments to: jet2larkin AT geemale Dot kom...and I will respond

The story was re-written. It is a authentic tale about two boys. It was my story, but it could easily be your story. It is in seven parts with a beginning, middle and end. It is graphic, truthful and plausible.

Two boys, different as night and day, different as hot or cold, different as soft and hard, join together to form something perfect...

The Outcasts

by Lark

part 4 of 7

The Refuge

When Michael looked out his bedroom window he could see the house where Seth lived with the old man. He could see the litter of wrecked cars with grass and vines growing up around them. And way beyond, he could see the tall pile of dirt that he imagined was a real volcano.

It was evening and he could hear the commotion and chaos in the house where Seth lived. It made him fearful and worried for Seth. The yelling was loud and it went on and on. Michael didn't want to hear it and he went away from the window and tried to shut the yelling out with the pillow but it wasn't much help. When he heard the back door of the house slam he went back to the window and saw a thin black figure run across the yard, through the field and climb the dirt pile seeking refuge. Michael went down the back stairs and ran through the field and climbed the dirt pile and fell into their caldera. Seth was sitting, pulled up close to himself with his head resting on his knees.

For some reason, it was Michael that was the one crying.

Seth recoiled. “Get away from me you little faggot!”

Tears ran down Michael's cheeks and then he said in a halting voice, "Seth, I would do anything for you. If you want me to, I would die for you."

Seth looked up at him with eyes full of anger. “Fuck you, you little fuckin faggot! Get the fuck away from me.”

Still in tears Michael retreated to his house. In bed under his covers he whispered to himself. “I'm nothing. I hate myself. I am a fuckin faggot. It's all ruined and it is all my fault.”

It was late. Michael awoke to hear pebbles being tossed on his window from below. When he opened the window he saw Seth.

In a harsh whisper he said.”Come on”

Michael dressed and headed down the backstairs. Seth greeted him with silence and tugged him along.

“What is it?”

Seth didn't utter a word. He manhandled the younger one into a corner between the two buildings.

His breath was shallow and urgent. He took out his cock and forced it into Michael's hand. It was very stiff. Michael held it tight in one hand and then both. He pulled on it causing Seth to moan in a weeping and plaintive voice. His pants dropped to the ground and he pushed Michael to his knees. Holding him tight, he pulled Michael closer. His moan turned in to a cry that was approaching a state of increasing desperation. He pressed the end of his cock against Michael's lips and Michael opened his mouth and he slid it in. The thrusts became exaggerated and relentless reaching a state of ecstasy causing Seth to cry out. When he did, streams of warm liquid squirted out of his cock. He did not come into Michael's mouth but he came all down the front of is shirt. Michael felt warm inside and strangely gratified. As soon as it was over, Seth was gone leaving an overwhelmed and confused Michael by himself.

Saturday

Being Saturday, Michael lay in bed. He was relieved that he didn't have to confront Seth at the school bus stop. He tried to put the older boy out of his mind, but more than that, he regretted that, in an emotional moment, he had declared his affection and loyalty to Seth and the next morning it all seemed so foolish. He stared down at his childish collection of stuffed animals.

His mother appeared at his bedroom door, Michael, someone's here to see you. Seth followed her in baring a smile as if nothing had happen.

“Seth, you're very nice, I'm so glad that you came to see Michael. I want him to have nice friends. Seth, can I get you something to eat?”

He shook his head no.

“A sandwich, or some soda?”

Seth was polite.

“Well I'm going to make you two boys some tuna sandwiches anyway.“

When she finally left, Michael rolled his eyes. “I'm sorry, she always does that.”

There was no other place for Seth to sit in the small bedroom so he reclined on the messy bed with Michael.

“So that was some fight last night between me and my old man.?”

Michael was relieved that whatever it was, it was over.

“So you could hear it all the way up here?”

Michael softly said, “yes.”

Looking away from Michael he said, “Oh, about later on..I warned you about me.”

Seth did not elaborate and Michael didn't say anything.

Seth's ticket

The boy stood on the sidewalk in front of the Gilbert's yard. There was an old motorcycle leaning up against a tree. It had been parked there for 2 weeks. The sign said $100. It was a 1980, 250cc Yamaha and it was old to be sure and to make matters worse, petrified from spending years unused in the garage.

Mr. Gilbert came out of the house to discuss it with Seth. "Well, I think the tires just need some air and you'd probably need a new battery. I seem to remember that it had a starter but there's a kick start."

"Would you let me pay $20 a week?"

It was easy to see Seth's predicament. Mr. Gilbert looked around as if there were other prospects but there weren't.

He said, "Look Seth, if I don't sell it by the end of the day, you can have it under one condition. Get it the hell out of here! I am tired of looking at it."

By the end of the day, an elated Seth was joyfully pushing the bike back to the house. He was full of anticipation. He would take every part, clean and shine it and put it back. He would fix it and for the first time in his life, he would accomplish something and then, he would fly like an eagle.

Seth had only vaguest idea of the principals of a motorcycle engine but he would learn by carefully taking it apart and putting it back together. Of course there was much more to it than that. He had no idea how to shift it's gears or how to adjust the carburetor. These were all things he would have to learn.

He called Michael down to see. Michael sat on the ground next to him and looked but the bike didn't really hold his attention. He'd much rather watch Seth's enthusiasm and excitement. He had never seen him so happy and filled with ideas.

A Case For Meds

You could say that Charlotte Bettencourt was excited. She sat across the table from her son Michael and shoveled spaghetti and tomato sauce onto his plate, then sat down and nervously lit a cigarette.

"Oh my God Michael, I can't believe it, I start tomorrow! This is the first job I've had since you were born. Oh God, I can't believe it we have our own house, and now I have a job. The bus goes right by the hospital so it'll be easy to get back and forth. Michael, I promise you things will be much better from now on."

He twirled the spaghetti on his fork.

"I start on the night shift but they say that it will be just for a while and then they will put me onto the day shift but I don't care. I'll do anything just to make our lives better. Michael, You've been so good and I want nothing more than to be able to buy you things and make you happy."

She already had hugged and kissed Michael but now she was hugging herself in a strange act of repressing her own excitement as if she might suddenly fly out of control.

Oh God, if it wasn't for you Michael, when we were living in the car, I would have gone crazy or maybe even killed myself."

The 39 year old woman stopped to catch her breath.

"Oh my god, I just can't believe it, but Michael, there's only one problem, will you be alright alone at night, you won't get scared or anything? I have to work from 8pm to 4 am but the first bus doesn't start until 6 am but I don't care."

Later that day, Michael brought Seth back.

"Oh God, I am so glad Michael has some friends. I keep telling him that it's important to make friends because you never know when you might need help or..."

Michael interrupted his mother. "Seth just got a motorcycle and he's fixing it.

Seth watched Michael's mother and thought that she might be crazy just below the surface.

"Oh my God Michael! Where are your glasses, you didn't loose them did you?

Her son quietly said, “No, I don't want to wear them anymore.”

Seth gave a rye and undetectable smile.

“Seth, I'm starting a new job and it is on the night shift and I worry about Michael being alone and if he gets afraid do you think he can call you if he needs help?”

Seth said, "We don't have a phone."

Charlotte Bettencourt was busy busy. “I Have to go downstairs to put the laundry into the dryer. When I come back I will fix you boys something to eat.”

The older boy made himself at home on Michael's bed. He tugged at the front of his pants.

Smiling mischievously at Michael he said, “Look what I got.”

Opening his pants, he lifted it out and offered it to the younger boy. “You want it?”

The younger boy looked at Seth, then his cock and then at the door where his mother might suddenly appear. There was urgency in the air but he cast it all aside and put his mouth over Seth's hard cock. Seth moved his hips up and down forcing it in and out of the boy's mouth. Pausing, Seth pulled down his foreskin and put it back into his mouth.

In a soft and reassuring voice Seth said, “See, I warned you about me but you wouldn't listen.”

He would jerk off and then let Michael suck it again. Michael felt the tension mixed with sex and wanted to do anything Seth asked. The dick was still in Michael's mouth when the door to the downstairs suddenly opened. Michael withdrew and Seth quickly stuffed it back into his pants. His mother never saw a thing. She had been encumbered with baskets and bottles of detergent.

Seth stood up to leave. “I got to go, Ms. Bettencourt.”

Looking disappointed she said, “I was going to fix you boys something to eat.”

After Seth had gone, she said, “Michael, help me fold these clothes.”

She looked around to see that Michael had gone.

The boy's head was dizzy. He was intoxicated with the now, self-confident Seth. He followed him over to the tumble down house next door. Seth's father was away but he wasn't about to show Michael where he slept so instead, he showed him another secret hide-out. It was an old Ford station wagon, no tires and it was entirely covered with summer vines. Seth pulled them away and opened the door. It made the loud crack of bent metal. Inside was a broad front seat. “This is from before seat belts.”

Michael slid in first followed by Seth. You could see out of the windshield but not much because of the clinging vines.

Seth looked and Michael and said, “The engine's gone. So much for that!”

Then he said, “Supposen your Mother caught us with you suckin my dick? She'd be sure you was a faggot by then.”

Seth laughed out loud. The horrible idea repressed Michael's lust causing him to move closer to the passenger side window. Seth opened his pants and pushed them down and off, leaving him naked, sitting next to the younger boy.

“Don't worry, nobody can see in here cause of all the vines.” He started stroking.

You like suckin my dick, don't you?”

Michael hadn't thought of it in such blunt terms.

“Well, if you don't, I'm not going to force you. I can always just jerk off.”

He followed it with a broad smile and an accusatory, “Ya know!”

Michael moved over, took Seth's cock into his mouth and the intense, enthralling feeling, immediately returned. He liked doing it, he liked how it tasted and more importantly he loved how it made Seth writhe and swoon.

The naked boy elevated himself a little. “Lick my nuts!”

He pushed Michael's head down. The older boy had a large scrotum pulled up at the base of his cock. The younger boy licked it while Seth Jerked off. The strong scent coming up from between the older boy's legs sharpened the experience. Up on his knees and holding Michael's head with both hands he returned his long dick to Michael's mouth.

“Ya think you want to taste it?”

The boy didn't answer.

“Cause it's gonna happen.”

Seth began an urgent moan and whimper. He held Michael's head tight and was trying to push his cock down the boy's throat. When he cried out, it began to flow. It did this more than a half dozen times filling Michael's mouth.

When he finally let go, Michael spit out what hadn't gone down his throat.

Seth, still breathless said, “Don't worry, it's not poison.”

When Seth recovered, He wrung out his cock, flinging left-over cum on the dash. “That was great, wasn't it?”

He put on his tee shirt and pulled up his pants.

Michael was delirious and almost speechless. His small and modest cock was still stiff in his pants.

Seth put 2+2 together and putting his arm around Michael, he carefully opened the younger boy's pants and tugging out his small cock began to jerk him off. “I hope you been practicing.”

Michael looked up into Seth's face.

Seth said, “I know what this looks like but I'm not a faggot or anything.”

He was carefully stroking Michael's stiff little cock. “Just so's you know and don't be telling anyone about this, ok?”

Michael reached up and putting both arms around Seth's neck, pulled him close. He was breathing hard. Moments later he began cuming. Michael held on to Seth while his cock just twitched up and down.

When it had passed Seth said, “You call that a wad?” This was followed with his goofy laugh.

The Teacher

When a boy like Michael becomes sexually active, some people can tell. There are changes that aren't really visible to the eye but they are there for those who are observant. It is not physical or visual, it is chemical and it clings to them like a thin atmosphere or an either. If you are close, you can smell it. It's not a good or bad smell, but a potent scent that is at first, subtle and then alluring, only to gather in intensity until it quickly becomes, an intoxicant.

Mr. Hunter was Michael's social studies teacher. He was one of only a few male teachers in the middle school. Tall and young for a teacher, Mr. Hunter was thoughtful in the way he taught his lessons. He was soft spoken and wore wire rim glasses. It was before lunch and he asked Michael to stay on a minute for an informal chat.

“Michael, did you lose your glasses? I hope you don't need them for reading.”

“No, they were for seeing faraway and I decided that I didn't want to wear them anymore.”

The teacher nodded. "Well, I can't do without mine. So, things looking up Michael? I heard you and your mom have a much better living situation."

"Yes, I like the house because we don't have to move around."

Mr. Hunter seemed the sensitive sort and was demonstrating a genuine concern. Sensing this Michael moved closer so that he was at his teacher's arm.

"Where's your Dad?"

"I don't know, I don't remember him."

"Does that bother you or cause you difficulties?"

"No, not really. I guess it was a long time ago."

Mr. Hunter looked closely at Michael's youthful face and he saw that someone had already awakened him. It was there and to the middle aged man, it gave Michael a dark charm. It was only a short moment that they locked gazes. Michael realized that this man wanted him.

Part 5 to follow

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