Written By:  Justin Case

Disclaimer: This story contains adult content, some may find its topic offensive. You should view this material responsibly; its intended use is for private viewing, and may not be reproduced in any fashion. While this tale is fiction it deals with real life experiences. Any similarities to people, places, or events, may be on purpose, but should be considered coincidental. The creator of this work retains all legal rights, and ascertains that this it is entirely his own creation.ã2003JCPco.

Author's Note:  This is my first attempt writing a story about young friends. If you like it let me know, I'll write more. If you don't, my humble apologies. I did my best. My e-mail address is Justin69SK@aol.com

Thanks to all you wonderful peeps at #NiftyWriters for your support and camaraderie. You've all been a tremendous inspiration in my life. I dedicate this piece to all of you who spend so many hours chatting with me.

My eyes were filled with tears, the wind was ripping through my hair, as I sped my bike down `Devil's Hill.' My heart was pounding; my little legs were peddling as fast as they could. He wasn't gonna beat me, no way! I had the fastest bike on the island. Everyone knew it.

I looked over my shoulder; he was gaining on me. I quickly turned my head back around and saw the finish line approaching. First one past Ol' Miss Lilly's crushed shell driveway was the winner. It was the same in every race. Nothing new. Only about three more hundred feet to go and I'd show him I was the fastest in all of Hopedale.

I seen Old Man Tommy on his front porch wave as we glided by. Me on my bright red cross bike, the new kid on his blue one. Old Man Tommy's house was the oldest on the island, and nothing spectacular. Kind of dilapidated, the white paint peeling, peers settling unevenly with time. Christ, the roof was sagging too. Even Mr. Tommy looked to be crumbling; his body all bent and twisted with age. Once we passed his house, it was practically over.

He was bearing down on me, I caught a glimpse of him out of the corner of my squinted brown eyes. I could only nod my head to Old Man Tommy as we whizzed on past his house. I didn't dare take my hands off the hand grips. I pumped harder on the pedals, and leaned my body forward holding my head down closer to the handlebars.  I felt like I was flying through the wind.

Old Miss Lilly had the last house on the road. Mile Long Road, was its name. I lived on it too. Nearly everyone in Hopedale Louisiana lived on it. Since Hopedale was an island and only had two streets. We didn't even rate a traffic light at the drawbridge, only a blinking yellow one. The other street was called Last Street. Kind of funny if you think about it. Most places have First Streets, but we in Hopedale don't, we have a Last Street.

I had been to Miss Lilly's house a great many times. She was the oldest person on the island. Miss Lilly was a frail lady. Her silver hair always on top of her head, her shoulders always back, and a smile always on her lips. Every June she'd have a big barbecue for all the people in Hopedale. She made the best southern fried chicken I ever tasted. I was her lawn boy. I've been cutting her lawn since I was 11, two years ago. She always bakes me some whoopee pies when I cut her grass. The woman can cook!

"Look out!" I heard him shout as he flew past me.

I couldn't believe it; he passed me. The last thirty feet and the kid passed me. I was doomed to be teased. They'd never let me live it down. `Billy lost to a Yankee,' I imagined all my buds saying. Yeah, I could hear it already, `Did you hear? Billy lost to a Yankee.' Yep that's what they'd be saying tomorrow in St. Bernard Parish Middle School. The worst thing of it is, it's an all boys school. Down here in southern Louisiana we have boy's and girl's schools. I don't know why, but we do.

His name was Petey Tomo, he'd just moved here from Michigan. We'd made a bet on whose bike was fastest. All the guys were there, all the ones I'd grown up with. He was a few months older than me and a little bit bigger too. I liked him as soon as I met him, even though he was a Yankee. Everyone has their faults.

"Good race," I said to Petey as I offered him my hand.

"I thought you had me."

"Me too." I conceded.

I couldn't seem to tear my eyes off him. Petey was a couple inches taller than me, probably only weighed about a hundred. His raven black hair was spiked, and he had some blonde highlights. He'd taken his shirt off at the start of the race; his chest was chiseled, and his stomach muscles were well defined. About three inches of his white boxers with the red polka dots showed above the waistline of his jeans. I could see some faint black hairs below his belly button. I felt a little uneasy, and quickly moved my glance to meet his steel gray eyes.

I couldn't help but wonder as I stared at him, if he had any pubic hair. I'd been stealing glances at the bulge in his pants since I'd met him. I was already dreaming about him in ways that I probably shouldn't have been. I couldn't help myself. I am fascinated with other boys. I don't know why, I just am. He was so cute.

"You wanna go for best out of three?" His voice startled me.

"I dunno. Maybe later."

"You aint mad at me is you?" He sounded so sincere.

"Nah, it aint nothing. There's always next time."

We slowly walked our bikes back up Devil's Hill. It was a hot May afternoon. I didn't look forward to the round of shit I'd hear when we got back to the Marina. That's where all the boys were waiting, at Kurt's Marina. I purposely walked slower than usual; I was taking my time.

"Do me a favor?" I squeaked out.

"Absolutely."

"Tell the guys we tied."

"Ok."

"Thanks. I don't like to lie, but I don't wanna hear their crap."

"I understand. It'll be our secret."

I liked him even more now. He wasn't at all like what my daddy told me about Yankees. He seemed just like me. Just another boy. My daddy told me Yankees were all uppity and stuff. Daddy often said, `the only good Yankees was the ones that stayed up north.'

I was glad Petey moved down south, and even gladder he moved to Hopedale. He seemed so much easier to get along with than my other friends did. He didn't argue, or compete as much as the boys I'd grown up with, he kind of just went along and seemed to be content with himself.

I had met him a couple days before. We seemed to hit it off pretty quick. His family moved right next door to us. Petey was an only child, he had told me his sister died when she was a baby. His dad was a crew boat captain. I guess the work up on Lake Michigan slowed up, so they moved down here to the Gulf. Lots of work for crew boat captains down here, Petey told me. I didn't know, I really didn't pay much attention to such things.

My daddy is a shrimp boat captain. He owns his own trawler. Lots of times I'd go out with him. I loved being with my daddy on his boat. We'd get up real early in the morning and set out down the channel into the Gulf, then we'd drop the nets and begin our work. We had our own fishing area, everyone did. We'd be out all day, sometimes we'd stay overnight, depending on the catch. I loved being on the boat, the smell of the salt water, the screeching gulls overhead, and the occasional spray of the waves as they crossed the bow.

In my family there were six of us. I was the only one still living at home.  My two older brothers moved out long ago, my sister moved all the way to Philadelphia. Daddy didn't like that, he called her turncoat. So now it was Momma, Daddy, and me, that shared our four-bedroom home. The others only came around on holidays.

Our house is on stilts too, just like all the houses down here in Hopedale. You never know when the canal would flood. Of course, I aint seen no floods since I was born, but Daddy talks about the one when he was a boy. I don't know, it kind of sounded like it was fun. Don't know why they all make such a fuss. Anyways, our house is pretty big as houses go on the island. It's white with brown trim, the wall that faces Mile Long Road, and the canal, is practically all glass. Daddy screened in the bottom of the house. He put screens around the outer stilts, and poured some concrete on the ground, it was like having a screened in basement.

I could feel the heat from the bright sun as we walked slowly up the hill. I stopped with my bike resting against my body. I slipped my shirt off. When I pulled my head free, I noticed Petey staring at me. His eyes moved slowly up and down my body. I could almost feel them on my sweaty skin. I didn't mind, it fueled my imagination.

I flashed him a smile; he quickly turned his attention back to the direction we were walking. Guess he felt a little self-conscious about looking at me. It made me feel good to know he liked what he saw well enough to stare a little bit. I wrapped my pullover around the handlebars and began pushing my bike again.

I guess I aint that bad to look at. I'm four foot ten, just over eighty pounds. While I'm not all muscle, I certainly aint got a lick of flab. Mostly, I think I'm kind of skin and bones. I got a nice tan though; during the summer I was always running around half-naked. My skin was nice and smooth too, I liked looking at myself and feeling my body with my hands. I have short brown hair, and like I said earlier, brown eyes. I've been told I have a nice smile, whatever that means. I just accepted it.

"Billy, can I ask you something?" Petey called over his shoulder to me. After I'd caught him staring at me, he picked up his pace a little bit and was about ten feet ahead of me.

"Sure."

"Which one of the guys is your best friend?"

I thought about it a minute. I'd known them all since I could remember. Most of the families on the island were descendants of the original settlers. We were all the same generation, except for Miss Lilly and Old Man Tommy. All the older generation seemed to either have died, or moved into St. Bernard Nursing Home. My own grand-daddy and grand-momma had died when I was little.

I pictured my boys, waiting up the road, on the steps of the Marina. I thought about all five of them. Jerry, he's the oldest of the bunch; he turned fifteen in April. April first too, and he is a fool. Perry, probably my favorite, but not my best friend, was the same age as me, thirteen. His birthday and mine are in September. John Paul and Jordan were brothers, John is twelve, and Jordan is fourteen. Finally, but not last, is Kurt. His daddy owns the marina. Kurt is thirteen too, but acts like he's better than the rest of us.

I had never thought about it before. I'd never given a thought to who my best friend was. I liked them all the same. If I had to pick though, I'd pick Perry I supposed. He was always thinking of others, and taught me how to use a gig. Not too mention, he's the only boy I've ever seen naked with a boner.

Perry had dark brown wavy hair. He always wears his hair a little long. He's the same size as me, four feet ten, and we both weigh about the same. He has more muscles on his body than I do. Perry also has the sexiest eyes I'd ever seen, they're deep set with long lashes. Perry was the quieter one out of our bunch. He was definitely someone who could keep a secret.

About a year ago he took me out on his skiff, we went out onto one of the little islands just beyond the canal. Perry wanted to show me how to gig frogs and flounder. While we were using our broom handles with knives strapped to the ends, stabbing and jabbing into the shallow water along the shore of the island, trying to run them through frogs and fish, Perry suggested we get naked. It seemed like a good idea to me at the time, I had already been having visions of other boys.

We both took our clothes off and kept gigging for whatever we could catch. After a little while Perry says to me, "You ever jerk off, Billy?"

I didn't know what to say. I figured the best thing was to be honest. "Yeah, sometimes," I let out.

"Me too." Perry said, he seemed like he had something more on his mind when he said it.

I began to feel a stir inside my penis as we talked. I looked over at Perry's cock; he already had a hard on. He had a few wisps of brown hair just above the base of it. His balls hung down, the right one a little lower than the left, his sac was much bigger than mine. I hadn't begun to grow any hair down there yet, but my dick had grown to be about four inches long when it was hard. Perry's dick looked to be a little bigger than mine, only about a half inch longer and a little fatter. I couldn't seem to take my eyes off his hardened dick, and I could see his eyes were looking at my prick, as we stood side by side in the knee-deep water.  I catch myself wondering now what his cock looks like, in the past year I've started to grow some hairs.  I tried to imagine his, but haven't seen it since.

"You shoot yet?" He asked.

"I just started like about a month ago. I don't have no hairs yet like you though." I told him matter of factly.

My dick began to swell, Perry's eyes widened as he watched it grow. I couldn't take my eyes off his nice looking dick. I'd never seen one that wasn't cut before. The head of his cock was shiny and red, only half of it exposed. His shaft was lily white and looked smooth. I watched him as he dropped his gig in the water and slowly wrapped his hand around his dick.

"You wanna have a race?" He whispered.

"What kind?"

"See who can cum the farthest."

"I don't care." I really had been hoping to see another boy's hard dick, for quite a while before that day, to watch one jerk off would be a real dream come true. I wasn't going to let on to all that though.

"Ok. You wanna go up in the grass and lie down?" He prodded.

"It's up to you," I remained noncommittal.

That day had been burned into my brain, with vivid the memories of watching Perry jerk off as he lie next to me in the long field grass. When Petey asked me who my best friend was, it all came flooding back to me. As much as Perry was my closest friend, I didn't want to say it; I didn't want to admit that Perry was my best friend. I was afraid I'd hurt Petey's feelings. I don't know why, but I didn't want to hurt him, I felt attracted to him.

"I don't know Petey, I guess I like them all the same. I don't really have a best friend." I finally told him.

"You think we could be best friends?" He asked, his voice seemed to be pleading.

"I think I'd like that."

"Really? You mean it Billy?" I could hear the excitement in his voice.

"Yeah, I really think I'd like that Petey."

"We'll be best friends forever, I promise," he beamed.

That was it, that was the day we had become best friends. I wondered where our friendship would take us. The two of us walked a little slower as we approached the Marina. I was feeling content that he was by my side. I guessed he was feeling the same.

"So who won?" Jerry's voice could be heard calling, above the others, sitting on the steps to the Marina.

"It was a tie." Petey called out.

"A tie?" Kurt's voiced questioned filled with skepticism.

"Yeah, we crossed Miss Lilly's shell driveway at the same time, neck and neck," I lied.

Petey and I put our bikes underneath the warped wooden stairs, and all of us boys went into the Marina. Kurt's dad had a room near the back he'd set up for us kids. It had a couple video games, and a television, with a couple chairs and sofas strewn about. It wasn't the cleanest of places, but it was comfortable, especially with the wall-mounted air conditioner. Various aromas filled the air, sweet smells of candy mixed in with residues of tobacco smoke, and a certain mustiness of aged wood. Many a summer afternoon was spent in the Marina's game room, by the boys and me. Many a card game was played on the table that was off to the side, and many a domino championships too.

Petey and I walked behind the others as we trudged through the aisle of the Marina. I looked at him and smiled.

"Best friends?" I asked under my breath, so no one else could hear.

"Forever." He smiled after he said it, and slapped me on the back lightly.

To be continued:

Thanks for reading my first attempt at writing something for young-friends. I hope you like it so far. If you'd like to see my other work, and the work of some of the finest writers on Nifty, go to http://Justincasescorner.homestead.com

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