Malcolm, Chapter 13

Malcolm

Chapter 13 Bobby

by Michael Peterson

Be advised that in the following one will find graphic sexual depiction between minors and minors and adults. The story is fiction but based on real characters, events, places and situations. There is no relationship between the names used and that of any real person.

Victor Cibelli relaxed on top of me, his wonderful long dick buried in my rectum and repeated, 'Yeah, that was real good.'

Whether on purpose or not, he stayed there until my throbbing stopped then slowly pushed up and back on his knees, his still stiff cock snapping up as the head came out.

I felt the cool air hit my bare skin. I rolled over and watched Victor pull up his briefs, pressing that wonderful long boner against his abdomen. A long awaited event had finally taken place, and would do so again, and again.

As I straightened myself up once dressed, I asked, 'You've done this before, haven't you?'

'You too or you wouldn't know. Yeah, my cousin. He's queer too but I only see him on holidays. And this nigger kid, a nephew or something of the stable boy. We do it in the hay loft up in the barn but I gotta do stuff for him too, just jerk him off.'

'How old is he?'

'Eleven. Who'd you do it with? Somebody here? Tommy?'

'Why'd you say Tommy?'

'He's always talking about sex.'

'You think he would?' That was better than lying.

'Sure, but then he'd probably tell everybody.' It was amazing how they all mistakenly mistrusted each other's ability to keep a secret..

'Then why'd you think I let him. He say something?'

'Just once. He said he was sure you liked it. Did you?'

'Oh yes. You were wonderful. But, you can't tell anybody.'

'Don't worry about me. Anyhow, we're friends. We both know each other's secrets. So who'd you do it with? Bradley?'

'I never say yes or no about anybody. That way nobody can figure anything out.'

'Well, you better be careful. One of the big mouths finds out and you'll probably be expelled. Then you will have really big problems with your old man. You don't think he knows.'

'He sort of does. He's called me a homosexual but I said I wasn't. One of these days I'm gonna tell him to his face but it'll be when I'm getting ready to live somewhere else.'

Victor patted me on the shoulder. 'Thanks. That was really great.'

The entire boys' school was back at the grotto half an hour later. It was the first of May, Rosary month. Every school day during May, every year, we were led there after dropping off books in our classrooms to say the rosary. Victor and I smiled at each other repeatedly.

Later, as we walked down the stairs for recess, Pat asked me what I was so happy about.

I didn't feel as though I was behaving any differently from any other day but worried that perhaps finally having Victor inside me was having an effect. 'It's May. Summer's coming.'

Victor joined Martin and me tossing. Martin asked about Friday night. 'Want me to come to your place?'

'Sure, but I gotta do some chores tomorrow afternoon.'

'What?'

'Not much. Just clean off the back porch and sweep the driveway.'

Martin looked at Victor. 'Why don't you try asking again? We can play some ball while Malcolm's busy.'

I suggested, 'You can come with us after school and go back Saturday on the five ten train.'

He said he'd try but he didn't seem very optimistic.

After school, I used a quarter I'd stolen from my mother's purse, took the streetcar and walked up the long hill to the boulevard that passed the supermarket where Freddy worked. I didn't see him anywhere. I acted like I was looking for something for much too long. A woman asked me what I wanted. I stumbled with my answer.

'Look, boy, we don't want any thieves in here. Lemme see what you got in there.' She grabbed my duffle bag and looked inside. 'Looks like I caught you in time. Get yourself outta this store!'

'I'm not trying to steal anything. I'm just waiting for somebody.'

'What's their name?'

I was too flustered not to tell the truth. 'Freddy who works here.'

'Really? Come with me.'

She took me by the collar on my blazer and led me through the door by the meat counter into the back of the store and a small office. Inside, the manager was talking to Freddy and another bagger. The woman knocked on the glass in the door. The manager stood up and walked to me. Freddy turned. He didn't look happy to see me.

The manager stuck his head out the door. 'What's the problem?'

'I caught this boy snooping around the aisles. Says he was waiting for Freddy. What did I tell about letting a nigger in here?'

Mr. Johnson appeared exasperated. He looked at me then said, 'Just a minute.' He turned to the older boy in his office. 'Doug, wait in the store. I'll call you.'

The big boy walked out, giving me a nasty look as he passed by. The woman shoved me ahead of her into the office.

Mr. Johnson said, 'Thanks Miss Clark, I can handle this.'

Freddy asked, 'Malcolm, what are you doing here?' in the same English he spoke at my grandmother's kitchen table.

'I just wanted to say hi but you weren't there. I was worried.'

Mr. Johnson, with his hands on his hips, asked, 'Malcolm Lloyd?'

'Yes sir,' I answered.

He looked relieved and sat down. 'You're the one that wants to work during vacation?'

'Yes sir.'

He asked me about school and what my parents thought about me working. I lied and told him I had permission.

'When's school let out for you?'

'June sixth, I think, sir.'

'Well, that makes this easier. Don't forget you're going to need a letter from your parents and a copy of your birth certificate.'

'Yes sir.'

'Okay, Freddy go on back to work.'

He followed us out into the store where he called Doug and asked Miss Clark to come too.

Freddy said, 'I thought he was gonna fire me back theah. That mothafucka Doug said I was stealin'. I didn't take anything. I bettah git back ta work. I'll see you Sunday.' He stopped. 'Yo mama say you can work?'

'Not yet.'

I took his hand briefly, needing to hug him. He looked at me for a moment then went back to his register.

I went to Bobby's house but no one was home. I found my friend with an older teen at Fish's house. He jumped up and pulled me aside. 'I got a customer. Can you wait a little while?' I shrugged my shoulders. Bobby led the young man into Fish's bedroom and closed the door. I dropped my books by the door and sat on the sofa. Fish offered me some pretzels. I bit into one. It was stale.

'Wanna play some cards?'

'Don't you ever go out?' I asked.

'Sometimes I go to school. So, play some poker?'

It was better than listening to the springs squeak from the bedroom. During the middle of the second hand, I heard Bobby say loudly, 'Ouch, careful'. There was nothing more until they walked out some fifteen minutes later. The teen waved and left the house. I dropped my cards on the table and rushed into the bedroom.

'Come to take care of Bobby?' asked Bobby. 'Close the door.'

He was still naked on the bed. Two dollar bills were on the side table. He waved me to him.

'At least blow me.' There was something strange about him. 'What's wrong. You can fuck me after 'cept I don't think you're gonna feel much. That boy had a big one.'

He was high. I smelled his breath but there was nothing out of the ordinary.

'Oh Malcolm. It's just a pill. No big deal. Couldn't take a cock that big without one. Now blow me, please.'

I got on the bed, close to tears and hugged him to me. 'Why do you do this, Bobby?'

'You're not gonna blow me, are you?' He put his arms around me.

'I love you, Bobby.' I started to cry. 'Please stop doing this. You're going to die.' I caressed his hair and bare back.

'I'm sorry.' He pushed his face into my shoulder, and slept.

A few minutes later, Fish opened the door, looked at us, and closed the door.

I lay there with Bobby for what turned out to be almost two hours. I slept myself a good bit of the time. I knew it was late from the color of light coming through the window. It had to be after six. I should have been home by then. I asked Fish if he had a telephone.

'In the kitchen but you gotta pay a nickel each minute.'

'Okay. I'll be fast.'

I dialed my house. Adelaide answered. 'Where are you, boy?'

I asked for my mother.

She asked, 'Malcolm, where are you?'

'I'm at Martin's. We were doing our homework on the bed and fell asleep. I just woke up. It'll take an hour to get home. Can I stay here?'

'Aren't you supposed to stay there tomorrow?'

'Yes, but they don't mind.'

'Dear, you're really imposing on them too much.'

'Really, mom. It's okay. I'll come home Saturday by five. I promise. We just fell asleep.'

She sighed and said okay. I sighed too and got back to Bobby. He was still asleep. I knew if I wanted to have any dinner, I needed to get to Martin's right away. I kissed Bobby on the cheek, gave Fish ten cents and ran with my books to Martin's house.

They were eating.

'Malcolm,' said Martin's mother. 'What's wrong? Aren't you supposed to be home by now?'

'I went to see a friend and we fell asleep. I just woke up. Can I stay here tonight? I asked my mother and she said okay.'

'Come on in, boy, have something to eat,' said Martin's father sounding like he'd had a few too many beers.

After dinner, Martin was more curious. I told him what had happened.

'You can't help him. He's a junky already.'

'Did you know that his mother leaves him home alone for days without any food. That's why he's gotta take customers, so he can eat. He took a pill today because the guy's cock was too big for him and would've have hurt too much. We gotta try to help him. He's one of us.'

Martin stared at his shoes. 'Shit. But what can we do? He can't eat here. Everybody around here knows him 'cause of all his crap with boys at his school.'

I had no answer. I got to work on my homework. Martin had finished his but had some questions that I answered. I did my exercises. Martin did most, Dickie a few. When we were finished, Martin wanted to know how many push ups I could do with Dickie on my back. The answer was eleven.

Dickie was the only one horny in the tub so left the bathroom unsatisfied.

Martin and I necked for a while with Dickie lying on top of me then fell asleep like that.

Victor was playing ball on the sports field when we arrived. After the bell he shook his head morosely when he saw me looking at him in line. He wouldn't be spending the night with us.

At recess, he told us that his grandfather had the maid tell him he was too busy to talk. 'I'm gonna try something Saturday. If it works, I'll be on that train next Saturday.'

Francis grabbed me on the stairs as we headed out for recess and whispered 'behind the school' into my ear. I walked hurriedly along the front of the school and ran down the road to the back, waiting behind a tree to see if someone was following. No one came. Francis was inside the bushes, pants down, dick up, when I got there.

'How'd you get here so fast?'

'Side stairs and over the fence. Hurry up.'

He had a swimming pool towel for me to lie on. With my pants around my ankles and my hands spreading my cheeks, Francis ran his almost five inches up past my prostate. It felt especially good. He fucked slowly, his hands pulling on my shoulders. I put my hands on his buns and squeezed with each thrust.

We heard someone outside. 'Occupied,' called out Francis trying to disguise his voice.

'Hurry up,' called back a maturing voice.

Francis sped up his strokes, grunting with each. He rolled us on our sides and began jerking me off, thrusting and grunting harder than before. I came just before him.

'We need to find another way out of here,' he said.

There was no other way out. 'Let's just go fast.'

He went first. We darted by at least three larger boys without looking up or back.

'Any idea who they were?' he asked me.

'I didn't look.'

'Well, they were there to jerk off so they shouldn't be saying anything. I hope.'

Tommy, Pat and Martin, conversing around the basketball backboard at the side of the sports field, saw us and pointed. In the classroom, Pat looked at us individually and ran a pencil through his rolled up thumb and forefinger.

I sold two medium value cards at lunchtime to have more than carfare and bought candy bars for Victor and myself.

When I visited Freddy at the supermarket, he told me that Mr. Johnson 'must've raised Holy Jesus with Doug and Miss Clark 'cause they haven't bothered me since yesterday. You talk to yo' mama 'bout workin' here?'

'I didn't go home last night.' I told him what happened. He wasn't happy about me being with someone like Bobby.

'I gotta try to help him. Don't worry, I won't touch any of his drugs. I'd never do that.'

'Better not,' he said with a worried look.

The front door to Bobby's house was open when I arrived. I called his name. 'In here. Close the door.' he called out. He was cleaning his room. It looked completely different from the last time I saw it. He embraced me and gave me a kiss. 'Whatta ya think?'

'Almost like mine.'

'And didn't have no maid to clean it. God, I was hoping you would come. I'm really sorry about yesterday. Come here.' He led me to the bed, sat me down, and sat himself facing me.

'I,' tears came to his eyes. He reached out to me. I slid over and held him. 'I don't wanna do no more drugs, Malcolm. God, you are so right. Fish kicked me out of his house around ten last night. I didn't even know you was there. He said you stayed with me for two hours. I'm so scared, Malcolm. My mother wouldn't let me in last night. I slept in some car down the block. I don't know what I'm gonna do but I gotta get a job, a real job but I'm too young. I thought maybe I could sell things or wash cars. I don't know. Thank you for being my friend. I love you so much.'

I yearned to help him but had no idea how. With his reputation, Mr. Johnson would never hire him. Maybe he could wash cars.

'Malcolm, there's this guy coming in about half an hour. He's okay and I really need the money. You're not gonna be angry, are you?'

I had no alternative to offer with twenty cents in my pocket. 'As long he isn't going to hurt you.'

'Don't worry, he's not that big and he cums quick. I think that's why he comes to me. Women don't like the fast shooters. Thank you, Malcolm.' He kissed me on the lips and finished cleaning off the mirror on his dresser. He stood in front and smiled at himself. 'I ain't seen myself this clear for a long time.'

He came back to the bed and said, 'You know I can't stop having sex, Malcolm. You understand that. I've gotta do that but no drugs or beer, I promise. You find me with something like that, you got my permission to take it and throw it away.'

Being inexperienced in such matters, I believed in his sincerity.

The man came and went in ten minutes. I hid in the kitchen with a pot of something simmering on the stove. I didn't want to watch. Bobby called me when it was over. He was naked on his bed. There were two dollars on the pulled back spread. But his cock was limp. I sat beside him.

'That guy is such a wimp. So what kind of work can I do?'

'Maybe wash cars, like you said.'

'Or windows. I know this guy who washes windows. It's all he does and he's got his own house. Maybe I can work with him. I sucked him a couple weeks ago up behind the stereo store. I know where he usually is on weekends. I'll go talk to him.'

'Does he use drugs?'

'No, but he drinks like a fish on weekends. Maybe I better look tonight. Wanna go with me?'

'I can't. I'm staying at Martin's.'

'Your little lover.'

'You said you knew he loved me when you first met us. How?'

'Oh, Malcolm. I don't know how you didn't see it. Last Saturday, and the other, he was watching everything you did. You shoulda seen his face when they were fucking you, especially when you sucked Spike. He coulda killed he was so jealous.'

'No, he was mad at Spike for sucker punching him. He still doesn't like him very much.'

'Nobody likes Mr. obnoxious Spike. No, dear, it was love I saw. He loves you, right?'

'Yes.'

'Case closed. You fucked him yet? He wants it, you know.'

'Mmm hmm. But how did you know?'

'You, dear, are not the first one. Robert told me Monday or Tuesday, I don't remember which. Had a couple beers in him. When they were nine and ten, Martin and Robert fucked each other then Martin wanted Robert to fuck him a couple more times but then he didn't want to do it any more. Robert said he begged, even faked crying but Martin said no.'

'Does anybody else know?'

'I don't think so. It was hard getting it outta him. Martin fucked him once and Robert doesn't want anyone to know that. I promised I wouldn't tell but I lied 'cause I'm telling you. Don't worry, I ain't gonna tell nobody else. Robert really misses your ass. He's a nice kid. You oughta let him do you some more. I'll bet he'd pay.'

He was making me horny with visions of fat Robert pumping into Martin. I knew how great it felt. But I hadn't been happy about the fifty cents the one teen gave me. 'I don't want to start that. But I suppose he can. I just don't really like going to Fish's.'

'Why? Fish is harmless. Nobody's ever gonna do nothing you don't want there. He don't want no trouble.'

'But he fucked you that one day when you were unconscious.'

'And next day he said he was sorry. I was awake when he started then he couldn't stop. Kenny was a prick. He's gotta pay if he wants it now.'

'Does he?'

'Not yet, but he will. I know him. Come over tomorrow. I'm making lunch for everybody, egg salad sandwiches and onion soup. Soup's already started in the kitchen. If you want, we can go find Robert right now. I know where he hangs and maybe that friend of his is with him.'

'I've gotta be at Martin's by five thirty.'

He looked at his alarm clock. 'We got an hour. Let's go.' He hopped off the bed and dressed.

Robert and the boy who'd worn the blue shirt two weeks earlier at Fish's house was wearing a short sleeved green shirt. He was a beauty, light brown hair, green eyes to kill for and well muscled arms. They came back eagerly. Both wanted me.

Bobby compromised. He and I would do a sixty-nine while green shirt, whose name was Simon which I found humorous for obvious reasons, fucked me. With his head between my legs, Bobby could watch Simon's cock slip in and out of me. And, if the Simon was still horny later, he could screw Bobby. He called it 'sloppy seconds'.

Robert went first leaving me to guess what Simon looked like naked. My fat friend was hot as a pistol. He thanked me at least five times before we started. I lubed him with my own brand and he found my hole, entering slowly and going 'aaahhhhh' as he slid in then, 'This is so good, Malcolm.' He continued very slow, coming out to his narrow tip then pushing back in just as slowly. Twice he stopped. 'I am so close. I don't want this to be over yet. Lemme wait a minute. Okay?'

Silly question. 'No.'

'Don't worry, I'll jerk you off before I come.'

'Not this time, thanks, got another one to go.'

'Yeah, right.'

He was a great fuck. I'd forgotten how nice he felt. His shape forced him to move more with each stroke, pulling his cock up and down in my hole, stretching my anus slightly and pushing the tip up and down inside me. And, he loved it so much. He actually shivered before he came and shook when his orgasm hit.

I think I enjoyed Robert fucking me as much as he did doing it. I hoped his friend was good too.

Simon was very quiet. He stared at my ass the entire time he was undressing. Bobby was right about one thing. His body was as nice as his face. He had little pectoral muscles that looked like hard versions of a girl's first tits. What was great were those wonderful grooves that ran in from above his hips down to his hairless crotch, framing a long slim cock that approached five inches but wasn't any thicker than Robert's.

I took his hand and pulled him up on the bed and up on his knees. I knew before his cock touched my lips that this was going to have to be a front fuck. I just had to watch. Bobby rushed in naked but for his socks.

'Oh, thought I was gonna be too late. Working on the soup.' He saw his deal had disappeared. 'Go ahead, please.' He sat on his knees beside the bed.

I put my mouth on that gorgeous shaft. Victor's would be like this in a year. It was difficult to let go but the main event awaited. Leaving him dripping, I leaned back, raised my legs and wet my hole. Simon showed a little surprise but understood what to do. He leaned over me and put his cockhead in my pucker. Then, up on his extended arms, his eyes on his cock, he slid full into me. He may have enjoyed the sight but I was breathless. All those marvelous muscles in his torso flexed as he pulled out and pushed back in. My dick was harder than his.

He stopped for a moment, shifted forward and went in fast, moving his hips side to side with his cock deep inside me. He never took his eyes off himself the entire time. He fucked harder, in and out at the same speed, making a light patting noise as his pelvis met my ass. He kept moving himself side to side as he thrust. I was on the edge. Bobby got closer. I hoped he wouldn't touch me.

Simon upped his rate, his shiny shaft appearing and disappearing fast enough it almost seemed it was barely moving. His body went whap, whap, whap against my ass. His stomach turned into a flesh washboard. I was bouncing off the bed with each stroke. He stopped suddenly inside. I felt him grow for a couple of seconds. The first pulse was like a shot. I could almost feel his cum fire into me. The rest came every second or so. He didn't move, just kept his eyes on where his crotch was pressed against my ass. When the pulsing stopped, he pulled out to the tip and slid back in, looked up at me and smiled an incredibly beautiful smile. He fell back slowly, his cock coming out, then laying against my perineum like it was staring up at me. Simon sat back and smiled again.

I looked at Bobby, telling him with my eyes that he had been so right about this boy.

'Any sloppy seconds for me?' he asked.

Robert stood in the door. 'I'm ready again if you want.'

I had to get to Martin's. When I turned to sit on the side of the bed, Bobby put his face in my crotch and gave me a quick blow job, quick because it took less than a minute to take me over the top.

I was a Martin's at five twenty, ahead of his father. Dickie jumped on my back. I rode him up and down the stairs and into the kitchen to his mother.

'Mommy. Malcolm's here!' he announced.

She smiled. 'I see.'

I went upstairs to Martin who was in his bedroom copying a list of World Series winners. 'I'm gonna be the only kid can name 'em all.'

Dinner, since it was Friday, was fried breaded fish and French fries. Delicious.

Since I hadn't been home to get the book, I couldn't read any Tarzan so Martin dug out a reader his sister had used the year before as a high school freshman. They picked three short stories for me read including one by Mark Twain that inspired me to find more of his work.

Martin and I were sitting on the carpet with our backs against the bed. Dickie was lying across it with his head and arms over my shoulder. Apparently Mark Twain didn't excite him as much as me because he fell asleep. Martin pulled him back on the bed slowly to avoid awakening him and we went off to take a bath.

We filled the tub with water as hot as we could stand and slipped into opposite ends. Martin wanted to talk. He had the same concern on his mind that had dogged me until the last six months or so. 'You think I'm like you, queer?'

'I don't know. You like girls?'

He frowned. 'Not much.'

'You might be. You ever do what we do with anybody else?'

'Mmm hmm.' He seemed embarrassed.

'Lots?'

'Not much. I did it with Robert about three years ago but I got scared we were gonna get caught. And, I did it at school a couple times. Don't get pissed.'

I shook my head.

'One was with Ronnie Hastings last year. He kept showing me his hard on so we did it in his garage where he lives. But he was such a jerk. The sex was okay but I hated being with him.' He took a breath. 'Please don't get mad, okay?'

I got up and kissed him. 'Never.'

'And I did it with Victor.' He waited for my reaction.

Inside I was feeling stupid for not going after him a couple of years before. 'When?' I asked trying to sound surprised.

'Since last year.'

'Where?'

'Few times in his cubicle at the pool. We always left the pool early. The rest all over, mostly behind the grotto but the boys room too during class. I was always worried somebody was gonna notice.'

'What do you do?'

'He sticks his in me and jerks me off.'

'That fantastic cock.'

He smiled and nodded.

'Since last year. When?'

'Just before Christmas.'

'Tell me, tell me.'

He grinned. 'You know how he is always jerking off in his cubicle. I had to see so one day I asked if I can do it with him. He let me go in with him. He saw me looking and asked me if I wanted to touch it. Then he got me to suck it. The next time, he did what we do. That's all he does now.'

'Feel good?'

'Oh yeah. You gotta try him. He won't say anything.'

'I know. He didn't tell me anything about you when he fucked me yesterday.'

'Shit! Bull. He did?' He kicked me gently.

'One of the greatest fucks in my life. Better than Robert and he's pretty good.'

He sighed. 'Yeah, I know.' He ran his foot up and down my leg. 'I'm really glad you and I are friends, Malcolm. Come 'ere.'

I turned around and sat between his legs and leaned back against his chest. He put his arms around me and kissed my shoulder. 'How come we're the way we are? I mean, why are we different from the rest like Tommy and Pat and Victor and Freddy? They like to do stuff but it's just like eating cake to them. They really like girls.'

It was a mystery to me. 'I don't know. Bobby thinks we're born this way. I know I've always been like this. I had a kid fuck me when I was six, way before I met Freddy. Bobby says the same.'

'I didn't think much about it until I was eight.'

'Was Robert your first?'

'Mmm hmm. But I saw Victor once in third grade in the bathroom and used to play with myself thinking about him and his dick.'

'Who do you think is the prettiest boy around here?

'You don't know him. He goes to Dickie's school. Lives down near Bobby.'

'What's he look like?'

'Gots brown hair like yours and big eyes. I think he's ten. He's in the fourth grade and lives with his grandparents. They don't let him out much. He likes to play with his shirt off. He's got a really neat body. Trouble is he can't leave his block.'

'So you've never done anything with him.'

'Only talked to him a couple of times. I go down there a lot but he's almost never out. You said Steven. He's kinda neat, too. You think he'd really like to do sex with me?

'Steven loves sex. He came five times a row with me once.'

'Five? Sounds like Dickie. You think his parents would let him sleep at my house?'

'I don't know. We can ask Robert. He seems to know him. So who's the prettiest in our class?' I asked.

'You.'

I pulled his hand to my lips and kissed it. 'Really.'

'Really.'

'Okay next to me?'

'Billy Martz.' Billy was the smallest boy in the class. I considered him no more than cute though he did have a nice pair of buns. 'Who do you think?'

'No bull, you. I've always loved your face and your body.'

'After me, who?'

'Tommy, I suppose.'

'Not Bradley?'

'No. He is pretty. The girls all think he's the best looking kid in the class. And the kids in the class think he is too, except us and we like boys. Weird, huh?'

'I always wondered why I didn't like him, not as a friend 'cause I like him that way. You ever seen him naked?'

'No.' I knew why but wasn't about to betray Pat's confidence.

'You think Francis is good looking?'

'No. He just fucks great. His cock is bigger than Robert's, a lot. You seen Billy Martz naked?'

'A couple times. I went into his cubicle and dressed with him but it was last year. He won't let me any more.'

'You try to do something?'

'No. He's scared we'll get caught.'

'So you asked him.'

'Just if he liked to jerk off. We were naked and mine was hard. I think he really was scared.'

What's he like, naked?' I'd seen him in a bathing suit for years. His body was fairly ordinary.

'You mean his dick. It's about average. I've never seen it hard but I guess it's about like Ronnie's was last year.' He held up his fingers a little less than three inches apart.

'So why do you like him so much?'

'I don't know. He's just kinda neat, like Dickie.'

'Dickie is a neat kid. You're lucky to have a brother like him. And he sure likes sex.'

'He always has. When he was a baby he was always playing with himself. I remember once when mother was changing his diaper, shit everywhere, even on his dick. He played with himself, got shit all over everything. He wasn't even six months old.'

'When's the first time he fucked you?'

''Bout a year ago. I did him first but had to promise he could do it after.'

'Did he get in you?'

'Not as far as me but he did. Didn't get off, though.'

'I was really surprised that night when he sucked me. When did you do that first time with him?'

'He learned that from you. We were just doing it in back until he saw you doing me in front.'

'We better wash. This water's getting cold and my cock is hard.'

He reached down into my crotch and felt me all over. He pulled the drain plug, let the water drain out then refilled with hot water. We necked on our knees while waiting.

'Hey, why didn't you tell me?' Dickie stood nude in the door rubbing his still sleepy eyes.

'Close the door,' we said simultaneously.

'You guys kiss a lot.'

'C'mere,' I said, 'and I'll kiss you.'

'Not like that. That's yucky.'

'Want me to kiss your peter.'

He walked to the tub and thrust his hips forward. I leaned over the side and gave him a quick suck. Martin and I picked him by his arms and put him into the rising water. We washed each other then both of us did Dickie.

In bed Dickie wanted to fuck me. He tried it while Martin and I were doing a sixty-nine but couldn't get past my big buns. I had to get on my hands and knees for him to get inside. It still took him a while. By the time he came, Martin was hot to do the same thing. His growing cock was able to poke at my prostate so it was more enjoyable.

Again, we slept as a unit, this time with me on my back and Dickie on top of me with Martin pressed against me, his one arm under my neck, his other over Dickie, his top leg stuck between Dickie's and mine. I have no idea how we slept like that but we did, waking in more or less the same positions. It was good no one ever came into the room unannounced, as we were naked though covered with a sheet and spread.

Martin and I hit the tossing circuit right after breakfast, getting lucky and running into a group of kids from the private school up the boulevard. They were playing against the wall in front of the supermarket. Apparently their mothers were inside shopping so time was limited. Their rules were different from what we were accustomed to in that leaners were losers. The card had to lie flat and be closest to the wall. We still took them for fourteen cards including three high values that I convinced them to toss. They had no concept of card values. The oldest, a thirteen year old a head taller than us got a bit perturbed and accused us of being hustlers. I wasn't sure what he meant but denied it anyway. We were saved by their mothers filing out with Freddy, Mike and Doug carrying their many bags. They filled the backs of three station wagons and drove off with the kids we'd hustled.

Doug recognized me and gave me a dirty look. Freddy showed the dollar bill the one had given him.

Mike said, 'Freddy's a con artist. He tells them he's saving up for a wheel chair for his crippled little sister.'

'No I don't!' retorted Freddy with a grin.

Mike flipped out his dollar. 'I told them it was my little old grandmother.'

Freddy chased him back inside.

Spike was walking up the street when we turned down into the neighborhood. I'd told Martin about our tryst in the garage. They stared at each other as we approached and greeted civily. I asked Spike if he knew where kids were tossing.

'I saw some in the alley behind Kenny's house. You going to Fish's later? Bobby's got some special lunch.'

'We'll be there for lunch,' I told him.

'What lunch?' asked Martin as we walked away.

'Bobb's making soup and sandwiches. The soup's been on his stove since yesterday. Smelled pretty good. Steven's gonna be there.'

'Don't say anything. Remember, I live around here. Why don't you invite Steven to stay with us tonight.'

'I gotta be home by five. I promised when mother let me stay Thursday night.'

'Shit. Can I go with you?'

'Sure.' He hooked his arm in mine.

The tossing had stopped when we arrived but the boys were still there. Martin knew them all. I knew none of them.

'Yeah,' said one when Martin introduced me, 'I heard about you.' I worried the word was out on my sexual activities but that wasn't it. 'You're real good. But I'll bet you can't beat Beany, can he, Beany?.'

A blond haired boy about my age, apparently Beany, with a crooked smile said, 'Let's see.'

He quit after losing four cards.

'Wanna trade?' I asked in hopes of picking up something.

'Whatcha got?'

I showed one of the high values, a Joe DiMaggio, I'd won in front of the supermarket. They all looked. Beany leafed through his and offered me four lousy choices.

'Four for one. That's pretty good.'

'Not for DiMaggio. Ten like that wouldn't be enough.'

'How much money you want for it.'

'Dollar.'

'You're crazy.'

I put back it in my pocket.

'I'll give you fifty cents.'

'Okay, ninety cents.'

'Nyuh uh. Okay, sixty.'

'Lowest I can go is eighty-five.'

Beany looked at me with his blue eyes. I wondered if he was available.

'Seventy. It's all I got on me.'

It was five cents less than I wanted but I didn't want to close any doors in case he could be brought into Fish's and held out the card. He frowned and handed me his coins then grinned and pulled a dollar out of his pocket. 'Sucker!'

The retort that flashed into my mind remained unsaid. Instead, I asked if anyone wanted to buy some. We sold the other two high values for the then established seventy cent price.

It was barely eleven. We had another hour. I asked Martin if he knew Beany. 'Yeah. He's a jerk.'

'I just want to sit on his cock.'

'Shit, Malcolm. You don't have enough?'

He was right. We went to Fish's to see how lunch was coming along.

Bobby was in the kitchen, naked. I asked him why.

'In case you all don't like the food, I can offer something better.' He laughed. 'No, I'm in the middle of two things. One is waiting for me in the bedroom.' He kissed my lips and Martin's cheek and went back to whomever he was naked for.

We checked the soup. It was really good. There were three unopened loaves of white bread on the table. I checked in the refrigerator. There was a large bowl covered with wax paper held on by a piece of thread. There was no practical way of getting into it without being obvious.

Fish was playing solitaire. A bored fourteen or fifteen year old sat in the upholstered chair. Every few minutes he looked at his watch. Martin talked about the cards we still had, trying to calculate their value in money if we sold them. About twenty minutes after we'd walked in, a tall though probably young teen walked out of the bedroom with a smile. The other boy stood up and led him out of the house.

Bobby appeared in the doorway with a hard on. 'Malcolm?'

I pulled Martin behind me.

'Well, close the door and someone give me a blow job. That boy fucks like a tiger but wouldn't touch me where I needed it.'

I ran and jumped on the bed. 'This is for the lunch.' I pushed him down and took him in. As I sucked, I waved Martin to join me.

He walked hesitantly to the bed. I pulled him up beside me and just held him as I took Bobby to heaven. He squirted some wonderfully sweet juice into my mouth.

The moment he stopped shooting, he jumped off the bed and ran for the kitchen. 'Close the door!' I shouted best I could with my mouth full.

I pulled Martin down and kissed him, letting some of Bobby cum drip into his mouth. He jumped up.

'What was that? Bobby's cum?'

'Whatta you think?'

He ran to the bathroom to spit it out then came back with a strange look on his face. 'You like that?'

'Yes.'

'I suppose it's not all that bad.' He climbed back on the bed and on top of me. After a hug, we got back to necking. He didn't hold back his tongue so I assumed Bobby's sperm was no longer a problem.

Bobby came back in while we were at it. We looked up. 'God, that's beautiful. I'll keep everybody out for a while.' He closed the door.

'We better get out of here before they think we're doing something, said Martin.'

'Don't worry. They'll think you're fucking me. Wanna?'

'Not here.'

'Then, come back down here'.

He allowed, and participated, for a few minutes then pulled me up and to the door. Before opening it, he turned back and necked some more. 'I love you, Malcolm.'

'I love you too.'

We went out and played friendly poker with Fish and Kenny who'd come in while we were occupied.

By twelve, there were eleven of us waiting to be fed. Robert wanted me for lunch but I fended him off with a promise of dessert. Steven asked when his turn would be.

Bobby walked in with a stack of bowls and spoons. As he distributed them, he announced, 'Anybody who wants to eat's gotta get naked.'

There was laughter. Only Steven started taking off his shirt.

Bobby stood up and said, 'I'm serious, if I can't see your dick you don't eat.'

The laughter turned to grumbling. We all stripped, making a series of clothing stacks at our feet.

Bobby carried his pot and ladled out the steaming soup. It was too hot to do more than sip. There was a lot of blowing on spoons. Next came a plate stacked high with sandwiches, then another.

Bobby called out with his mouth full, 'Kool Aid's in the kitchen.'

Martin brought mine.

The food was delicious. The egg salad sandwiches had crisp lettuce. The soup was the best I had ever eaten. The bowl and pot were empty in half an hour. There wasn't a stiff cock in the room except Steven's.

Bobby beamed with pride. 'Good, huh?'

An idea flashed through my brain. I dragged Bobby into the bedroom. Robert followed.

'Not yet, just a few minutes. I pulled Martin in and closed the door. I'm sure everyone thought we were getting it on but that was the farthest thing from my mind.

'Bobby, that's the best soup I ever ate. You can sell it. You can sell food that you make.'

Martin said, 'It was really good, Bobby.'

Bobby sat on the bed, staring off into space.

I asked, 'How much did it cost you to make the soup?'

'Shhh. That's what I'm thinking.'

We waited.

'About sixty cents. It was about four quarts of soup. Wait, add ten cents, twenty for gas. Shit, say a dollar. Can we sell it for a dollar a quart?'

'I don't know. How long did it take to make it?'

'Since yesterday morning. It was in the refrigerator since last night until about eleven, no, ten thirty this morning. So a day and something. I can make it one day and sell it the next. You think?'

'What else can you cook?'

We were in there for over half an hour, ignoring knocks on the door, planning Bobby's food business when Martin asked, 'Don't you gotta have a license or something?'

We stared at him. 'Wait, I said. At the Bazaar the school does every year, they sell all kinds of food mothers make and they don't have any license.'

The knocks grew more insistent. There were cocks to take care of, a couple I wanted in me.

Robert, Simon then Stinky screwed me along side of Bobby who took on Fish and Tony then blew Spike while Stinky was plugging me. Stinky was incredibly horny, getting off in less than a minute then staying in me for a while and going again. The second time was great. He kept me on the edge the entire time, making long slow strokes that made my insides glow with pleasure. I have no idea how I kept from coming. He finally gave up without reaching climax leaving me incredibly horny.

Poor Steven had been sitting naked in the corner waiting when we started. I noticed him again when Robert left and Simon came in. I looked forward to getting off between his silky legs. When Stinky pulled out, I looked for Steven but he wasn't there.

I walked into the living room with my hard on but he wasn't there or in the kitchen. I asked Fish. He shrugged his shoulders. That's when I noticed Martin was missing too. I smiled to myself and went back to the bedroom for a quickie with Bobby. I figured he'd be needing it as much as I did.

Bobby was examining Spike's balls.

'I was telling Spike that he still had a lot in there and oughta put it in you but he's so stubborn.'

I sat with them and held Spike's still hard four inches. He sat silently. Bobby dropped his head and sucked softly on Spike's left nipple. His body was so perfect. I whispered in his ear, 'Fuck me, Spike.'

His mouth was half open. He said, 'I gotta go. Maybe next time.' He slipped out from between us and took his hard on into the living room. I chased after him, closed the door then ran back and jumped on the bed.

Bobby lay on top of me and found his way inside. I rolled us on our sides for fear of coming before him. He wrapped his arms around me and fucked gently but was as hot as me. After a half dozen thrusts, he pumped his young sperm into me. He grabbed my cock as he got off first spurt, and squeezed it. I got off immediately. We lay quietly for a while. I was thinking about Martin and Steven.

'I think Martin took Steven someplace. They're both missing.'

Bobby's mind was elsewhere. 'Isn't that Simon fantastic. I was so jealous watching him fuck you. God, his ass is so round.'

I turned my head and we kissed. 'You wanna do it again?' He usually did when he stayed in me that long.

'You?'

A moment after we reconnected, there was a knock on the door. Bobby called out, 'Who is it?'

'Martin.'

'Come in,' I said loudly.

Martin and Steven walked in smiling, stopping against the bed. I took Martin's hand and squeezed it. Steven strained his neck to see between Bobby and me. Bobby pumped twice. Steven sat on the side of the bed and put his hand on Bobby's behind.

Martin leaned over and kissed my lips.

'You have fun?' I asked.

Martin knelt beside the bed and said, 'Mmm hmm.'

We helped Bobby clean up the kitchen while Fish took a nap. The four of us went to Bobby's house to discuss our ideas for his food business. Steven got horny again so Martin took him into Bobby's bedroom. Bobby and I sneaked around to the back of the house and peeked through a slit between the curtain and the window. They were naked except for socks. Steven was on top of Martin fucking his face and masturbating his cock. Martin's hands were sliding up and down Steven's entire body.

We had hoped for something more interesting. We went back to the kitchen and discussed what type of container would be needed to deliver Bobby's soup. We needed someone who knew about these things. Martin suggested Mr. Johnson, the supermarket manager. We all went to see him but it was Saturday, his busiest day. He promised to talk to us Monday afternoon.

I was, as promised, home by five, and feeling very lonely after all the company I'd had that day. Martin was supposed to come home with me, but, with my blessing, was trying to arrange for Steven to spend the night at his house. My parents went out for dinner leaving me with a meal Adelaide prepared and left in the kitchen. She was gone by six. I ate in front of the television.

At seven thirty, I was so bored, I went for a walk that became a run and walk. I was really beginning to enjoy running. There was a simple refreshing freedom to it. I went so far up from my house I got lost ending up in the housing development at the far end of the woods from Freddy's house. At least it gave me some bearings and I was home a few minutes after nine. The television had test patterns on it. I ate a bowl of Shredded Wheat and went to bed.

Stewart served our Mass at nine. Again, he shook his head sadly. We wouldn't be getting together. I swept the front sidewalk and cleaned out the trash and leaves from the bushes along it. I was at Freddy's when he came home from church.

Again, he worried about the orgies at Fish's house. 'Can't all that go on all the time and nobody gonna find out. Theah's gonna be big trouble theah one day an' if you are theah, well, I don' wanna think about it.'

'But Bobby's off drugs and beer.' I told him about the food business he was planning. 'Nobody's gonna buy food from him aroun' theah. They be scared it's got diseases it in.'

My spirits dipped until we got to the stream and stripped naked. We made a fire and talked about us and our futures. Freddy was very enthused about the idea of going to college and studying engineering of some kind. My grandmother was to speak to Freddy's teacher about the possibility of skipping him a grade forward.

College was too far off for me, even high school. I assumed I'd go to the Jesuit high school where all the brighter kids from my school went. My focus was on relationships and sex. I had both with Freddy. The responsibilities of adulthood were too far ahead to be of much concern.

That night, I got brave and presented my case for working that summer directly to my father.

'Father,' I addressed him from the door of his den, 'I want to talk to you about this summer.'

Without turning, he said, 'I've already enrolled you in Camp McFarlane, and paid the inscription fee.'

I ignored that and plunged ahead with my prepared speech. 'Mr. Johnson at Edward's Supermarket near Martin's house says I can work there when school gets out. It pays five dollars a week plus tips. During the summer, boys make twenty to twenty-five dollars a week in tips. I'm a harder worker than the ones there so I can make more. And I can take care of the lawn and things here too just like I've been doing. When you go away, I can stay at Martin's. They already said it's okay. I'll give them some of what I make for my food. I'll pay you back for what you paid the camp.' I'd hardly breathed during my entire presentation so sucked in a lung full.

'You going to make five hundred dollars? That's what I paid.'

I did the math quickly. 'No sir, but maybe I can do something else and...'

'I'll think about it. Now I've got work to do.'

At least he didn't say no which is what he usually did.

My greatest concern was his finding out Freddy already worked at the supermarket. Were he to go check things out, as he might, he'd likely see Freddy. However, since he'd only seen Freddy a few times long ago and probably hadn't paid much attention when he did, I didn't think he'd recognize him. Mr. Johnson, the store manager, had been told both by Freddy and my grandfather about not mentioning Freddy's name or presence due to my father's racism. My hope was that my father would send mother to see if the job offer was legitimate or do it by telephone.

The school week went about as it always did, except, of course, having Victor in me twice behind the grotto. Martin spent Tuesday night with me after helping clean out part of the basement. Tommy wanted to join us Friday night. Victor was working on a plan to get away from his house all day Saturday but wouldn't be sure of anything until Friday.

Wednesday, I went to the downtown library to find some books by Mark Twain and found Tom Sawyer and Huck Finn. I'd heard them mentioned but never realized who or what they were. I started reading Tom Sawyer on the streetcar and hardly put it down except for dinner and homework. I forgot my exercises and went to bed late convinced that Tom and Huck were lovers like Freddy and I.

Thursday, after putting it three days off due to the fears Freddy had planted so well, I went to visit Bobby. He had the stove in pieces and was cleaning them with steel wool pads. Monday, when I didn't show up, he'd gone on his own to Mr. Johnson at the supermarket and bought some Mason jars which he used to sell some of his onion soup to a number of his neighbors.

'For how much?'

'Fifty cents a jar. I sold twelve jars Tuesday and already sold fifteen today with my vegetable soup. Old Mrs. Jarrett up on the next block says she's having friends over on Saturday for a card party and wants me to make soup and sandwiches for twelve people. I bought more jars today and two boxes of wax paper for the sandwiches. You are a genius. I shoulda thought of this a long time ago but you did it for me. I owe you the greatest fuck of your life.'

I was amazed. For once, Freddy was wrong. That wasn't why I was amazed. It was at Bobby's singular effort to help himself. I even wondered if perhaps I should work with him during the summer along with or maybe instead of Edward's Supermarket.

He told me of plans to buy a second pot so he could have soup for sale every day. 'It only takes about two hours of work to make enough for sixteen jars plus selling and collecting the empties in the morning, maybe five hours a day at the most. With two different kinds of soup each day and maybe spaghetti sauce and things like Mrs. Jarrett's party, I can make ten dollars a day easy and most of it's mine 'cause I can eat what I make.'

He had me try what was left of his vegetable soup. It wasn't as good as the onion soup but I liked it.

'What's your mother say?'

He sat and sighed. 'She don't know. She came home late Monday. She was all pissed off about something so we didn't talk. She saw the pot in the refrigerator and the jars but didn't say nothing. Maybe she'll be back tonight.'

I helped him with his cleaning. The stove hadn't been thoroughly cleaned since his mother bought it when Bobby was a toddler. He planned to do the refrigerator the next day once his soup was on the stove.

He seemed an entirely different boy. He wasn't quite as girlish or silly. I'd never seen him so serious about anything. Then, at four thirty came a knock on the door.

'Oh my God. Is it four thirty already? I'm a mess. Malcolm, go answer the door. Tell him I'm in the bathroom and will be right out.'

It was a teenager I'd seen him with at Fish's house. He was curious why I was there.

'You, uh, going to be with us?' he asked with a smile.

'No, I've gotta go.'

I got the impression he was disappointed.

Bobby dashed out shoeless in a different shirt and pants. He wanted me to stay. I was tempted but needed to be home before six.

I stopped by the Edward's to say hi to Freddy. He was off taking groceries to a customer a few blocks away. Doug was there. I said 'Hi'. He nodded and ignored me.

When Freddy got back, he showed me his fifty cent tip for his just completed delivery. I told him briefly about Bobby's business success. He wasn't convinced.

Friday morning, Victor told me his escape plan was impossible because he had to work the stables on Saturdays until he went to camp in a few weeks. He seemed resigned so I made no comment. During my recess impregnation by Victor, he asked me if I was doing anything with Martin when we visited each other's houses.

'Ask me again when we're done,' I told him. He was somehow creating more movement inside me than Robert with a bigger cock. He moved up on me each time he pushed inside but it was more than that. Whatever it was, that long thing sloshing around inside me was making me semi-delirious. When he came, he only had to touch my cock to get me off.

He asked his question again. I refused to answer. I wondered if he knew that Martin and I had talked to each other about our mutual relationship with him.

I think Pat wanted me at lunchtime but Tommy knew he'd be getting some that night so opted to toss baseball cards with Martin and me. So Pat joined Bradley, Victor and some seventh graders in a baseball game.

Martin had been working out daily and improved his numbers across the board on the exercises we did. When we worked out in front of the barn before dinner, poor Tommy was left way behind. He challenged us to a race up the hill from the bottom of our property to the driveway entrance in front. They were both faster than me but I was in much better shape and nearly caught them at the top. Tommy won by a couple of feet.

Before we bathed, I read some Tom Sawyer to the both of them. Tommy was bored but Martin snuggled against me and paid close attention. Nothing sexual other than some grab ass and cock snatching went on in the tub. In bed, though, it was a different matter. Martin, who had been incredibly amorous Tuesday night, had a front to maintain with Tommy. However, while Tommy was fucking me, Martin gently held on to my cock and balls. Tommy, by the way, was becoming an excellent fuck. He was able to get his crotch down between my legs and his cock well up inside me. I looked forward to what he'd be able to do in six or eight months.

Martin faked fucking me, pushing his cock down between my legs and feigning orgasm. He planned to do something later when Tommy was fast asleep. That didn't take long as Tommy was starting to breathe deeply when Martin performed his phony climax. We kissed quietly for the longest time then he slid down under the covers and sucked me for a moment before coming back up and turning his back to me. I nudged Tommy to be sure he was asleep then pushed Martin onto his back and pulled his legs up. It was really dark so I had to feel for his hole. I virtually dropped inside him. He squeezed his sphincter as I pushed my tongue into his mouth. Rather than fuck him, I moved my pelvis around while we Frenched like mad. It took a lot longer. I finally had to fuck with both his hands on my buns tugging me into him to reach orgasm. He did me the traditional way then stayed there, his head resting on my shoulder as we slept.

Saturday morning, I borrowed the barn keys to get out and gas up the lawn mower. The three of us took turns and cut and raked half the lawn before leaving for Martin's an hour after lunch. Martin was very interested in my getting that supermarket job. It meant we'd be together a lot all summer long. I think Tommy just wanted me around for the nooky.

I left Tommy at Martin's and went to see how Bobby was doing with Mrs. Jarrett's party. I had to get directions to her house because Bobby wasn't at home. He was there in the middle of a circle of older women discussing recipes and currying potential customers. He introduced me as the idea man for his food business. He sounded almost straight.

On the way back to his house, carrying shopping bags of jars and a notebook full of names, he slipped back into good old Bobby. 'God, what a boring bunch but they adored my food. I think I got some new customers.'

I'd never heard him use the word adore. 'Well, dear, that's what they said.'

We rinsed and washed out the jars. Bobby sat at the kitchen table and said, 'Now, I wanna get fucked by somebody with something bigger than yours between his legs. Let's see if we can find Robert and the beautiful Simon. You get Robert.'

'What if Simon wants me?'

'Then you get him second. Oh, I owe you. Let's go see what we can find.'

We found Simon and Robert. I had an idea I whispered to Bobby on the way back to his house.

Simon was disappointed but accepted fucking Bobby's looser behind. We all stripped. Bobby and I oiled up both boys' dicks and got into a sixty-nine position. With Bobby's one leg over my neck, I guided Simon into Bobby's anus and watched him disappear inside. Bobby and I sucked on each other's balls while thrilling to the sight of an adolescent cock slipping in and out of a hole inches from our eyes. I rode Simon's magnificent ass with my left hand, massaging and probing it while Robert, as always, fucked me forcefully and deeply, pushing across my sweet spot time after time. Had Bobby touched my penis with his lips, my sphincter would have squeezed Robert's dick off. Simon got to fucking Bobby so hard I had to let go of his balls for fear of hurting him during impact. Simon came first. He rammed in. I could see the underside of his cock throbbing against Bobby's anus. I gobbled in his already bloated peter and sucked it gently, hoping to prolong his feeling a little but he quickly pumped his still impotent sperm into my mouth. Moments later, Robert sped up and unloaded some of the same stuff up into my rectum. Bobby sucked me in taking me quickly to a wonderful long orgasm thanks to Robert continuing slow strokes into my rear.

I walked home feeling very content with myself. It was true; Bobby's business was my idea. Thanks to my encouragement, he was off drugs and beer. He didn't even go to Fish's house but went out and brought two of the nicer boys to his house. To make matters even better, the prospects for me working with Freddy looked good which meant I'd be close all summer to my friends Martin and Bobby and lots of good sex. And Victor Cibelli was not only sticking his wonderfully long cock up my ass, he was, along with a bunch of other popular kids, my good friend.

I ran from the far side of the bridge over our stream and the train tracks up the hill past my house, over the top and down the back side where I walked exhausted but spryly up to our back porch.

My father was waiting for me. 'Let's you and I go up to your room. I want to discuss something with you. My spirits soared. His positive demeanor suggested approval to work. I was totally unprepared for what happened after he closed the door behind us.

As I turned, he grabbed me by my right shoulder and hit me in the gut with his fist sending a jolt of pain that seemed to go through me to the back of my head. He hit me again. My legs buckled. He held me up and hit me once more before dropping me. I collapsed on the floor and curled into a fetal position, unable to breathe.

As I lay gasping for air, he squatted beside me. 'If you tell your mother about this, I'm going to use your little trick. I'll just say you're lying to deflect attention from your lies about the job, going to that faggot kid's house, stealing, all your little tricks. You think you're so damn smart. I went to that store and saw your nigger friend. See, just like always, I've found you out and now you're going to pay the piper. Between now and when camp starts, the only times you're going to leave this room are for school, church with me and to work right here and work you will, boy.'

He cuffed me on the back of the head, stood and left, slamming the door behind him.

The pain was excruciating. My stomach felt like it was on fire. I reached up to get on the bed but straightening out my body was far too painful. I stayed on the floor wanting to but unable to scream. I did cry. That came by itself, though not so much from the pain than the anger, the anguish. My heavenly life had just gone to hell.

I cursed myself for not realizing he'd go to the store himself and for being so naïve to think he wouldn't recognize Freddy or at least ask the name of the black boy Freddy's age working there. But if he knew about the stealing money from his wallet and drawer, why didn't he say and do something before? And how did he know about Bobby? In my pain, I saw him talking to Doug who jumped at the chance to say things he knew would cause me problems and secure his job. It was likely Mr. Johnson had planned to fire him when I started. Douglas must have seen Bobby and me together and, from going to Bobby's school the year before, knew Bobby's reputation.

I refused the dinner mother brought up. It would have just turned to vomit. I was waiting for them to go to bed to escape the house, go to Freddy's and then elsewhere, maybe Bobby's until I could figure something out.

The pain was still a factor in moving at eleven thirty when I decided it was time to go. I gathered two sets of clothes, my flashlight and the two Mark Twain books and stuffed them into my Cub Scout backpack. By the time I got to the back porch, I had to sit doubled over on the stairs for a while to let the throbbing in my gut subside. I went through the hedge into the property next door and walked bent over down the lawn and into the corn field where I stopped and squatted for a few minutes. When I got to the steep hill down to the street, I slid down on my butt rather than stand straight up. Going up the street was easier. The path to Freddy's was steep and irregular. The flashlight batteries were dead. I stumbled and fell twice, the second time rolling twenty or thirty feet to the bottom. It was pitch black in the settlement. The dogs were all over me licking and sniffing, happy to see me. I leaned on one as I walked to Freddy's house, one hand extended in front to avoid obstacles.

His mother opened the door the third time I knocked. I was on my knees. 'Maacum! Baby, what's wrong?' She lifted me while calling for Freddy.

'Maacum! Maacum!' Freddy got under my shoulder and took me to his bed where I curled up to lessen the aching in my middle. He embraced my head and shoulder. 'What happened, Maacum. What he do? Oh Maacum! He saw me, Maacum! I tried to hide but he saw me.'

I reached up for his head and pulled it to me. 'I'm never going back.'

Aunt Martha turned on the light and knelt beside me. 'What he do, baby? What he do?'

I told her. She caressed my head.

Gradually I told them what had happened. Freddy told me that my father had appeared in the supermarket door sometime before four. Freddy turned away but had to carry a customer's bag right past him. He hid his face behind the bag. My father had spoken to Doug but Freddy hadn't heard any of the conversation. Then my father had left and driven away. Freddy asked Mike to tell Martin what had happened but they didn't get off work until eight.

'I'm not going back there, ever,' I told them.

'Honey, that ain't gonna work. Wheah you gonna go? You just eleven yeahs old. You best talk to yo' granfathah an' see if'n he can help.'

They both encouraged me to go back. Freddy said, 'You run away and they gonna lock you up in some refo'm school an' I ain't nevah gonna see you agin. Talk to yo' granddaddy, please Maacum.'

The frustration was too much. I cried uncontrollably, clutching Freddy to me. I knew they were right. Anywhere I went, they'd find me. Too many kids knew about me and Bobby. Fish's mother would throw me out for sure. Martin's mother would call mine. My grandfather would be arrested for kidnapping if he took me in. No one would believe anything I said. I began to think about killing myself then Freddy kissed me on the cheek. I withstood the pain to straighten up and pull him full against me. I couldn't lose Freddy.

'I love you, Freddy,' I told him over and over.

'I love you too, Maacum.'

It was nearly four in the morning when, with Freddy carrying my backpack and supporting me with one shoulder, I started back home. Two of the dogs followed us all the way to my back porch. I embraced Freddy, kissing him repeatedly on the face. We sat together for a while.

Since I hadn't left the back door unlocked when I left, I wasn't sure how I was going to get back in. While I went to see if I could force the basement window, Freddy tried the back porch door. Luck intervened for once. I hadn't closed it completely so it opened right up. Inside, I had a difficult time opening the wooden gate at the top of the back stairs. I heard bare feet coming from behind me as I approached my bedroom door. I turned. It was him, standing with his hands on his hips.

'Life's tough, isn't it,' he said.

I went in and slammed the door behind me.

I was sleeping lightly on top of my bed, still clothed when mother opened the door to call me for Mass.

'I'm not going.'

'Why, dear?'

''Cause I'm not!'

'What's wrong?'

'Nothing! Go away!'

I couldn't get back to sleep. I lay stewing in my anger, plotting strategies to avoid doing anything he wanted. I was not going to do any of the work he ordered or I'd do it so badly he'd finally have to do it himself. At camp, I'd behave so badly they'd finally send me home. I'd say things in front of my mother's friends that would embarrass him so much they wouldn't be able to have guests in the house. And I'd tell all the kids at school what a faggot Father Simons was and that my father forced me to go to him. I'd make his life so miserable, he'd gladly send me to live with my grandparents.

After refusing the breakfast my mother brought me, I went to the kitchen to eat some cereal. My father walked in and said, 'Forget that. Get your butt down to the basement and start in the back. I want it like new by the end of the day.'

'Fuck you. Clean you own fucking basement.'

He came at me with his hand raised, then stopped, grabbed me by the back of the neck and pushed me toward the back stairs. I swung my fist back at his groin. He blocked it. I kicked back and caught him in the shin. He leaned over. I turned hard, swinging a fist at his face. He threw me backwards down the six stairs to the pantry. I landed on my back. Hurt but too enraged to feel it, I looked for a weapon. He pulled the gate closed. I picked up a trashcan and charged up the stairs at him. He easily pushed the trashcan back at me, knocking me back down onto the floor. I got up and threw the trashcan at him. He caught it and put it on the floor beside him.

'The basement, boy, get to it!'

'Fuck you, you son-of-a-bitch bastard!'

Mother rushed up to him. 'What's going on? Did you...'

'Not me this time. There he is, look! Did you hear him? That's what leaving him alone gets you. Now we're going to do it my way!'

He pushed past her. She came to the gate, frustration all over her.

'Malcolm, what is wrong with you? My God, dear, you've got to stop this.'

'Oh fuck both of you!' I went out onto the back porch. I was not going to do the basement.

Half an hour later, my father came around the side of the house and up the back porch stairs, grabbing and lifting me by the hair on the way. Before I could do more than swing ineffectively, he opened the back door and pushed me inside. I ran and grabbed another trashcan. He was ready for me, hitting me hard with his open hand on the side of the head. I went down like a rag doll. I vaguely remember him carrying me over his shoulder up the back stairs and into my room when he dumped me on the floor.

'You set foot out of this room without my permission and I'll use the belt until you bleed!'

He slammed the door. I turned over and tried to shout 'Fuck you' but it came out a whisper.

I lay back. The belt. He said he'd use it if I left the room. I'd taken it before. I could handle it. He'd promised everyone not to use it. If he did, and he hurt me, maybe, just maybe I'd be sent to live with my grandparents.

I turned on my stomach and started to cry thinking about the pain I'd have to endure, furious that I'd have to go through it for a chance at escaping my father. But, it meant I could be with Freddy. I stood and felt dizzy. My head still wasn't clear. I sat on the bed waiting for clarity. It forced me to anticipate what I was inviting. Maybe I could sneak out and see Freddy, avoid this. But then there'd be two and a half months of camp, two and a half months before I'd feel him beside me. It was too much. I stood again and walked to and out the door, down the back stairs, through the pantry and out the back door. I was breathing so hard my head was spinning again. I sat on the back steps and waited.

I heard his car drive out the front and head on down the street. I turned face down on the steps and cried, rolled back over and screamed as loud as I could then cried some more. There was a single full trashcan on the back porch. I ran up and threw it over the railing, ran back down and kicked the trash all over the place.

It took a while to cool down. I'd prepared myself for a terrible beating only to realize my father was unwilling to give it.

I lay in the cool grass for a while trying to think what to do. Stewart popped into my head. No one knew that I knew him. I remembered mother trailing me to his house. Still, he might have an idea.

It was a foolish thought. His uncle was asleep in a beach chair in front. Stewart sat dejected in the door. I waved for him to come to me. He dropped his head and shook it.

I went to the stream and thought about our unfinished hideout. Even if we completed it quickly and Freddy brought me food, it wasn't a solution. The solution was to find a way to force my father to let me live with my grandparents. That was the only solution. Of course, the only way I knew to do that was to bait my father into beating me so badly they'd have to take me away from him. My mother's parents would be the obvious recourse for a new home.

Freddy came home from church at one thirty. He was worried when he saw me. 'You run away again?'

'No. He went somewhere so I went out.'

I ate Sunday dinner with them. Aunt Martha was visibly worried about me and begged me not to do anything without first discussing it with my grandfather. Freddy and I went to our place on the stream. He went straight to the tree house and threw down the duffle bag. We lay on top of the blanket, clothed. Freddy was on his back with his arm around me. I lay half on top of him with my face in his chest.

'I know you're thinkin' a doin' somethin', Maacum. Please don't do anything that's gonna make it all worse.'

'There's only one way.' I told him my plan.

'An' what if that son-of-a-bitch kills you, then what?'

'He's not gonna kill me. But I gotta do it, Freddy. He's gonna send me away to camp again. And then it'll be the same shit like before when I get back. I can't stand that any more, Freddy. Oh, why can't I just live with you.' I cried quietly. Freddy held me tightly. I was so tired. I fell asleep in his arms.

I suppose he slept some too. He awakened me at a few minutes before five. 'Maacum, you best be gittin' home. Yo' fathah gonna be lookin' fo' you. Tell him you were behind that wall by the barn and fell asleep. Tell him you didn't go nowhere off the place. Okay, Maacum? Don' let him beat you. Okay, Maacum?'

I hugged him for a few minutes then walked home. I made no effort to hide where I was coming from, walking up in plain view of the living room picture window, hoping he would see me. I wanted this over with as quickly as possible.

He was waiting with my mother in the kitchen.

'You see what I'm talking about? I have tried everything else,' he said to my mother. To me, he said, 'I told you to clean the basement. You refused to do that and cursed me and your mother. Then I told you to stay in your room. The minute I turned my back, you left to go see your, your friend. I know that's where you've been. Up to your room, now.'

He unbuckled and slipped off his belt. I wanted mother to see it. I didn't move.

'Sandra, go to the living room.'

'Henry, please...'

He turned to her and said louder, 'Go to the living room!'

She walked backward to the door then turned and left. It was just us.

I looked him in the eye and said quietly, 'Fuck you.'

'Drop your pants, boy.'

'You drop 'em, boy.'

He reached warily for my belt buckle. I didn't move. He undid it. My body trembled. My breathing picked up. He moved in closer and opened my pants' top button. I took a deep breath and put all my strength into a right into his face. He went down backwards. I was going to jump on him but stopped myself and finished undoing my pants. I leaned over and untied my shoes as he got up slowly one hand over the left side of his face. I pulled off both shoes and took off my pants. As he stood and watched, I slowly unbuttoned my shirt. Hatred made me feel invincible. I'd taunt him with a full target. I dropped the shirt on the floor and took off my undershirt. I'd make him leave marks all over me for the whole world to see.

'You want my dick or my ass, faggot homo son-of-a-bitch,' I asked him disdainfully.

'You really think you're smart, don't you. I know what you're doing. Turn around.'

'You wanna fuck me first? You turn me around.' My hands were ready, every muscle tense.

He doubled over the belt, the buckle in his hand. He sung hard at my thigh. I dodged him but found myself against the sink. He closed in and swung. I grabbed at the belt, catching it, and tried to put a fist into his face. He leaned back and grabbed my arm, yanking it across the front of me, turning me around. He slammed my body against the cabinets with his gut, pinning me. I let go of the belt and went for his groin hitting something soft. He grunted but used the belt on my leg. I turned to my left, the direction he was turning me with the arm he still held. My fist glanced across his jaw. He stepped back and hit me hard with the belt across the middle then came back from the other side hitting me just above the groin. I charged him. I knew he'd go for my head and was ready. I caught his hand with my arm and punched him in the gut, putting myself off balance doing it. He pushed me down to the floor and stepped hard in the middle of my back. He got in two hard licks to my ass before I could turn over. The next swing went across my stomach but I hit his arm up, blunting it. He grabbed my hair as I tried to get to my feet and yanked me forward and down. The moment I hit the floor, he dropped on me, sitting across my shoulders. All I could do was struggle as he hit me half a dozen times across the ass and thighs with the belt. He stopped.

'I'm going to get up now. Stay down or I'll knock you flat.' He was breathing hard.

He started to get up then rammed his knee into my back and hit me several times more. That pain hadn't begun to register until then. It just made me angrier. I forgot my plan and thought vengeance. He got up and started out of the kitchen. I pushed the pain into the recesses of my mind, got up silently and ran for the knife box behind him as he walked out. I grabbed the first one and raised it above my head. He had turned around. His eyes opened wide at the sight of the knife. He kicked me hard in the pelvis, knocking me backward onto the kitchen floor. He came fast right behind me, swinging the belt wildly at the arm with the knife but missing it. I kicked up at him but my bare foot slid up his thigh. He kicked at the hand with the knife, hurting my arm but not dislodging the knife. He ran back toward the living room. I got up and stopped, furious with myself for touching the knife. I quickly put it back into it's holder as my father rushed in with a dining room chair. He knocked me backwards into the breakfast nook table and under it.

Mother ran in, pushing him to the side. 'My God, Henry, what are you doing? Put that down immediately!'

'He's got a knife!'

I held out my empty hands.

He looked at the knife holder and said through his teeth. 'He put it back. He heard you coming and he put it back.'

The three of us remained static for at least half a minute. I was in great pain but felt victorious. Mother stared at me. I don't think she'd seen the front of me naked since I was a baby. She turned to her husband. 'Why is he naked?'

'He took his damn clothes off, not me. He wanted me to put marks all over him. Good God, Sandra, can't you see what a manipulative little faggot he is?'

I lay back on the floor, exhausted and in great pain. But it was over for now. I needed to call my grandfather. I forgot the presence of my parents, blocked out their voices. One of them came near me, took hold of my arm. I yanked loose and slid farther back under the table. I tried to climb up on the bench. The telephone was above it under the stairs. I hit my head on the bottom of the table and fell back. My back hurt but not as much as my legs and gut. I felt them. That hurt. I forgot why I wanted to get up on the bench and curled up on the floor, sobbing from the pain.

Mother's voice came through from somewhere. 'Malcolm, dear, let me help you out of there so you can put on your clothes.'

I wanted to laugh at the absurdity of her need to cover my nudity. Clothes were the last thing I wanted. They would make the pain worse.

'Go away. Go away.' She was inadvertently helping me focus on where I was.

I got to my hands and knees and crawled out from under the table. She backed up in front of me.

'Look at this crap. Leave him alone. He's fine. Poor little picked on boy.'

I looked up at my father. 'How's your face?'

He pushed past mother and pulled me up by my hair. Mother screamed, 'Henry! Let him go! Henry!'

He turned me and took hold of my wrists from behind. 'Upstairs, boy.'

Mother must have grabbed him because I was jerked backward. My legs buckled, wrenching my arms behind me upward nearly pulling them out of their sockets. I shouted out in agony. He let go. I fell to the floor screaming 'son-of-a-bitch'.

'Henry, damn you! Get away from him! Get out! Out!'

Mother knelt beside me and took my arm. I hurt too much to protest or fight her. My shoulders felt like they'd been torn apart. I moaned instead of cried. I held my arms across my stomach and struggled to my feet as mother pulled me up. She turned me toward the front of the house. I resisted.

'This way,' I insisted. I wanted to go away from my father, up the back stairs.

Mother opened the door. I went up the stairs. It hurt too much to lift my arm to open the latch. Mother reached past me and opened it. I went to my room and fell to my knees by my bed. I knew from experience not to lie on the bed. Kneeling and leaning against it was the most comfortable position.

A few minutes later, mother brought my clothes in and started in with the same words as always. 'Dear, why do you do this? He asks so little of you. Why do you always disobey every, oh, Malcolm. Why didn't you tell me about Freddy being at the store? Maybe I could have helped avoid this.'

'Why don't you tell him what a racist son-of-a-bitch he is? He's wrong, not me. Go away.'

After a while, I slowly worked my arms to where I could pull off the more abrasive bed spread and lay my upper body across the sheet hoping to fall asleep. I put my arms straight down along my sides. My shoulders hurt worse than anything else. This had been far less of a beating or I was better able to handle it. In the morning, I'd call my grandfather and tell him what happened. My father would call his lawyer again but the marks were there. He couldn't deny his responsibility. This time I'd get him.

He wasn't concerned. After I refused the dinner mother brought up, he came in and sat at my desk. 'For a boy who's smart in school, you're really stupid outside. You keep thinking you can fool me, beat me with your little games but you keep losing, don't you? If you think those little stripes you got are going to get you anything, you're wrong again. A father has a right to discipline his child. You lied and disobeyed, repeatedly, a direct order.

'So now you listen to me and listen good. If I come home from work and find you're not here, I'll punish you again. Saturday and Sunday, you don't leave this property. No visitors. I'll take care of that. If you're too much of a problem between now and when you go away to camp, and you are going away to camp, then when camp's over Labor Day, I'll just ship you straight to some boarding school in Nebraska or Wyoming and that's how you'll spend the next six years, camp, boarding school, camp, boarding school. Don't you think for one minute I won't or can't do it. In your life, boy, I'm king, the supreme ruler. You can fight me but you can't beat me. I've got all the power. So just get that through your thick head and life will be a whole lot easier.'

'Fuck you, you racist son-of-a-bitch.'

'Screw you, you powerless little faggot son-of-a-bitch.'

He walked out, leaving the door opened.

Why, I thought, did I have to have such a hateful bastard for a father? Why did such terrible people exist? The word hate passed through my mind over and over but some thing about his speech was strange, missing. I went back over it, the part about camp and boarding school and supreme ruler making it difficult to see the rest. Then it registered. He had said I had to be in the house when he got home each night. Was he leaving me free to go where I wanted after school? That was hard to believe. Still, that was what he said. If it was true, he was accepting the fact that he was alone in his persecution of me, that neither my mother nor Adelaide was going to tell him if I went out. It was a great weakness in his power over me, maybe the beginning of the end of his power over me.

Monday, if it didn't hurt too much to ride a streetcar, no, no matter how much it hurt, I was going to my grandparents and see Freddy.

I wished I'd eaten the dinner mother brought up. I wondered if it was still there in the kitchen. I quietly went down to see. She'd put it away in the refrigerator. It hurt to reach up so I got a chair from the dining room, took out my cold dinner and ate.

In the morning, after sleeping bare on top of one sheet and under another, I dressed in my school uniform. It was uncomfortable but bearable. I ate the breakfast Adelaide prepared standing up and walked to school.

Victor was happy to see me and suggested some baseball. I explained my condition. He wanted to see so we walked up to the grotto and stood behind a tree. I lowered my pants carefully.

'Jesus. Both sides. I think I'd rather sit in the shed. I don't want anything like that.'

We walked back and stood at the wall above the plaza talking about what had happened and why. Victor had no positive feelings for Negroes. It was hard for him to accept I could care so much for one. Telling him of Freddy's accomplishments, courage and selflessness with me, and the great decency of his mother didn't affect him very much.

Martin arrived looking immediately for me. He ran up the hill to us. 'You okay? Did he hurt you?' He wanted to embrace me but Victor's presence only allowed him to put his hands on my shoulders. 'I called your house a bunch of times but they said you weren't there. The last time your father told me to stop calling. He beat you, didn't he?'

I saw the tears forming. I wanted to put my arm over his shoulder to hide them from Victor but couldn't raise it that high. 'It wasn't that bad. I'm okay.'

He wanted details. I just told him he'd used the belt on me. I didn't mention fighting him or my foolish attempt with the knife. Martin told of getting Freddy's message from Mike Sunday morning. 'I almost went to your house but thought that might just piss him off more.'

Tommy, Pat and Bradley joined us and had to be told the story too. Martin didn't mention the real reason why all this was happening. I did. It turned out everybody already knew. There were no comments

Martin asked, 'So he's not going to let you work at the store?'

'He wants to send me to that camp. I'm going to talk to my grandfather this afternoon. Maybe he can help.'

'Don't count on it,' said Victor.

My five friends were very supportive all day. Martin convinced Sister Bernice that I had a boil on my butt and arranged a cushion, which helped a lot. They wouldn't let me do anything. Pat bought everyone candy bars at recess. Martin carried my cushion along for both recess and lunch. Martin also spoke to the swimming instructor about my true condition. I was excused from participation and watched from the diving board end of the pool.

Martin left ahead of the others to change and took me into his cubicle. He wrapped his arms around my shoulder and cupped my head in his hands. We kissed deeply only stopping for him to say, 'I love you so much' and 'please don't go to camp, stay with me'. He pushed off his trunks. I held him back from me and sat on his clothes. He was so handsome, such an incredible body. And his dick had grown so nicely, so thick, over three and a half inches of suckable delight.

'What are you looking at?' he asked with a smile.

'The best looking boy in the school. You are so beautiful.' I wanted so to hug him but it still hurt too much to do more than raise my forearms..

He knelt in front for me and kissed my belt buckle, feeling my crotch at the same time, squeezing my erection. 'Want me to suck it?'

He quickly undid my belt, button and fly then carefully lowered my pants and drawers.

He sucked me in immediately, the sudden sensation weakening me. I leaned over and held his head as it revolved and moved back and forth. Below me was the muscular curve of his back and those sweet buns. His mouth seemed to be all over my cock at the same time. He started just going back and forth, his tongue and lips tight around the shaft, sucking hard at the tip with each stroke. He slipped a hand between my legs and sought out my pucker. My legs tensed. I was gulping air. Orgasm shot through my middle out to the end of my cock. I shuddered with the pulses rolling up my shaft. Martin wrapped his arms gently around my middle and hugged. He sucked in my balls and rolled them around with his tongue. I had to sit down. Martin put the cushion under me.

I embraced his head. 'Oh, Martin, thank you.'

The sounds of boys voices began to register. I heard Victor's distinctive laugh.

Martin said, 'I better get dressed.'

I asked, 'Can you come home with me tomorrow?'

'What about your father?'

'He won't be home 'til after six.'

'Okay, sure.'

We got looks from our friends when we walked out together, less Victor whose cubicle door was closed.

Martin convinced the bus driver to take me down to the streetcar turnaround after school.

Freddy hugged me at the door when I arrived at my grandparent's house. He unnecessarily helped me into the sofa. He kept saying, 'I told you not to let him do that,' using the English expected by my grandmother.

When I tried to tell my grandfather what happened, he said, 'Your mother called last night and again this morning. She was here for lunch.' He looked reticent to say anything more but went on. 'There is really nothing anyone can do. Your father, well, you disobeyed him. He said don't leave the house. You left the house. A father is allowed to spank his son for disobeying him. And your mother was right about one thing. Either I should have told her about Freddy working at Edward's or you should have and I wish I had spoken to you about that. I should have known your father was going to want to check to see if the job was legitimate. I know he doesn't trust anything you say. I'm very sorry about that.'

'So, I'm going to camp.' My stomach felt suddenly hollow.

'I don't see any way to avoid it, but, we will come visit at least every two weeks and Freddy can come with us. Oh, and something else. You better not go near your friend Martin's house. I think your father is going by there today to tell his parents you are forbidden to go there. If you do, they might call him. I'm surprised he's letting you out during the week.'

'Did mother tell you that?'

'Yes. I think he knows that she won't tell on you if you do, so he might as well. But please don't try to leave on the weekend. Just take what's given. You can come visit Freddy here. I'll take you close to home so you can stay longer.'

They left Freddy and me alone. We went upstairs to our third floor room and lay together on the bed. He let me kiss him on the lips and lie half over him. I tried to discuss options with him but he kept insisting I go by the current rules including going to camp. 'I'm gonna see you e'ry couple weeks an' we'll be together in the fall. If he gits real mad, he might send you away and I don't know what I'd do. I love you, Maacum. Please don't do nothin' ta git him mad.' He slipped in and out of his new English.

At five fifteen, my grandparents took us home, leaving us off together by the path to Freddy's house. My father wouldn't be home until after six. I tried running up the hill but it hurt too much so walked for half an hour. In my room I did a few exercises despite the pain in my back and shoulders. I took my dinner up to my room after refusing to eat with my father.

A long hot bath really helped with the discomfort in my back and shoulders. In the morning, my uniform went on with no problem. Only one small place on my rear was still sensitive. My shoulders were still very uncomfortable. The moment he arrived, I led Victor straight to the grotto and into the bushes. I wanted to get in as much sex as possible over these final weeks before camp.

'You're sure you're okay?' he asked as he opened his pants.

'It still looks bad but it doesn't hurt that much.'

He went straight to my sweet spot and hit it repeatedly during the few minutes it took for him to cum. Right at the end, he rolled us over completely and jerked me off while he pumped slowly up into me.

I hoped that wasn't just because I'd been hurt but that it was going to be a regular part of our sex. He let me kiss his cheek as he dressed.

Martin was waiting down from the grotto when we walked out. I assumed he knew where we'd been and what we'd been doing when he couldn't find us. He looked very serious.

'You father came to my house last night and told my parents that you aren't allowed to go to my house and I can't go to yours. He told them he didn't like what we'd been doing but wouldn't say what. My father got really pissed at your father for not saying what we were doing wrong. He kicked him out of the house. I told him we weren't doing anything wrong and told him about Freddy and how he's black and your father hates blacks and all the rest about the job and everything. My father doesn't like black people much either but he says he'd never tell me I couldn't have one for a friend. He thinks your father is a real asshole. He says unless he says what we were doing wrong and it was bad, you can come any time you want.

'Oh, and my father says he's going to talk to Mr. Johnson so he knows the truth.

I was elated. Another person had rejected my father's power over me.

We walked down to the flagpole where Tommy, Pat and Bradley were being let off by one of their parents. Martin told them about my father's visit and his father telling him to leave.

They looked at me for my reaction before saying anything.

When I said, 'that son-of-a-bitch' about my father, they all chimed in saying they were glad someone had told my father off.

The principal called me in to her office as we were going up to class.

'What's going on with you and Martin O'Malley?'

'Nothing, sister. We're just friends.'

'Then why did your father call me yesterday concerned that you two were up to something?'

I knew she was not an ally and wasn't sure what to say. 'He's mad about something else and is trying to blame Martin. All I ever do with Martin is play and help him with his homework. We stay at each other's houses sometimes. Ask his father.'

'I will. Watch your step, young man.'

Martin came home with me after class. We went up to my room, stripped and made some rather frantic love. He kissed me all over my body, right down to my knees then wanted me to fuck him from the front so we could suck each other's tongues. I tried but it hurt my shoulders too much so we did it in a more traditional manner. After I came, we waited a while then reversed roles. We tried it from the front. He had to lay his arms across my knees to hold my legs up. My butt was still a bit tender but watching his fine penis slide in and out let me forget all else.

He wanted to kiss. I wanted to watch. He lowered his head to watch with me. The sun through the window illuminated his body, delineating his muscles. The exercises he was doing to keep up with me were creating Godlike features on his twelve year old body. I liked what I saw in the mirror when I looked at myself but the original package I had to work with wasn't near what he was able to develop. Each thrust into my hole produced waves of movement under his flesh exciting me almost as much as his thick cock inside my rectum.

He used the end board of the bed to push off with his toes. The creaking from the bed grew as he approached climax. I worried Adelaide downstairs would hear. He seemed to whine quietly as he closed in then began his usual forceful, hard throbbing orgasm.

I wondered if any liquid was coming out. His balls were the size of cherries. A few pubic hairs were growing just to each side of his shaft.

We cuddled gently for a while, kissing occasionally, until it was time for him to go. I went to the streetcar with him and tried to run back but my body wasn't ready to I walked briskly, burning off the excitement he had built in me. Sex was supposed to relax. It might have if we hadn't been so affectionate that last half hour. It just turned me back on.

By the time my father got home, I'd done a few of my easier exercises, bathed and was in my pajamas doing my homework.

Wednesday, I had lunch with Tommy and Pat and all that entailed.

In the afternoon, I went straight to my grandparents' to be with Freddy. We went upstairs and did some tail too. Freddy was definitely growing. He massaged my prostate rather than poked it, taking me to heights he hadn't been able to just a few months before. Since we hadn't done it for a while and Freddy always swore he saved himself for me, not even masturbating, his first orgasm was less than a minute in the works, not doing much for me. His second, though, took a while. He lay on my back, hands under my shoulders, face against mine, fucking slowly and deeply, finishing each thrust into me with a little punch, pushing my cock against the bed, exciting it bit by bit. I embraced his hands and kissed him beside his mouth. He pulled his hands down and took hold of my hips as he increased the force of his thrusts. I lifted my rear to allow a little more depth and space for his hand when the time came. His right hand slipped down toward my crotch and took hold of my penis. His grew inside me. He began masturbating me in time to this thrusting. I squeezed his head and kissed his mouth. He shook as the first pulse ran through him into me like a sudden electric current. It shocked me into my orgasm. Our bodies became came together like they'd become magnetized.

We panted together. Freddy laughed quietly. 'That was really good. Almost worth not doin' it for a while.'

Though we generally liked to lie around naked for a while after sex, we felt self conscious there in my grandparent's house and dressed. Then we lay on the bed and talked about my situation, particularly Martin's father's attitude about my father and my relationship with a Negro.

'Martin wants to take you to meet his family and see how they really feel. I think they'll like you just like everybody else. And that'll make it even better for me if I ever need help from them. I think our principal might call Martin's father.' I explained about my encounter with her and her attitude that seemed to lean toward believing my father's remarks that Martin and I were up to no good.

'Maacum, your father is a son-of-a-bitch, worst I've ever seen.'

As opposed to the day before, sex with Freddy did leave me quite tranquil. My grandfather had me home in time for a good trot but hardly with the gusto I'd felt during the walk the day before. Once at the house, instead of doing my exercises, I sat on my bed and read. I figured one day without a workout wasn't going to hurt much.

Thursday after school, I went with Martin to his neighborhood. After stopping at his house and being greeted cheerfully by his mother and hugged by Dickie, I went to see Bobby. He was busy preparing the afternoon's deliveries. There were sixteen Mason jars to be filled and taken to the homes of customers who had already requested them. Martin and I helped, then carried jars in the baskets Bobby had bought for that purpose. As we worked, I told Bobby all that had happened. He wasn't very optimistic that I'd be able to avoid camp. We were done by a quarter to five. Bobby wanted some quick action. I kissed him and begged off. It took an hour to get home. I didn't want to risk a problem while there was any possibility of staying with Freddy and my friends for the summer.

Martin told Bobby to turn around.

'You watched me kiss him. Why so shy?' asked Bobby.

'Please.'

Bobby went off to the kitchen to clean up. Martin and I fell on his beat up sofa and made out for a few minutes. 'I love you,' he said staring into my eyes.

That inspired a good run and fairly decent workout in front of the barn. My shoulders still wouldn't let me do many pushups.

When I went upstairs to my room, I was confronted with partially finished construction in the hall to my room. A new doorway was being built across the hall at the top of the back stairs, just before my bathroom door. There was no door in it yet but the rest was complete except for the strips of finish plaster on the sides and the door itself. My father was going to be able to lock me in and not have to worry about needs to go to the bathroom. I asked my mother what was going on.

'I don't know,' she sighed and looked away, 'you need to ask your father about it.'

'Tell me!'

'I don't really know, but please ask him.'

'Why are you afraid of him? I'm not. Do you know he went to Martin's house with lies and Martin's father kicked him out?'

She looked at her hands.

It was obvious to me the son-of-a-bitch wanted to be able to lock me up, probably on weekends, maybe more. I went down to his basement shop, found a crowbar and ripped out the door frame. He came running up the front stairs as I was tearing out the last piece.

'What the hell do you think you're doing?'

'Making it so you can't lock me up like I'm your prisoner!' I stood with the crowbar in front of me. When he looked at it, I dropped it to the floor. 'I don't need that to fight you.'

'Get in your room!'

'Why'd you tell Martin's father and Sister Kathleen Martin and I were doing bad things?'

'You know damn well.'

'I don't know damn anything. We aren't doing anything wrong. You are, by lying about us. That's why Martin's father kicked you out. So what are we doing bad?'

'Get in your room!'

'Liar!'

'Are you going to your room or do I have to take you?'

'You re a liar,' I said calmly and turned toward my room.

I heard him step toward me and braced myself for a blow. It didn't come.

I worked out again.

Friday, I took Victor back to the grotto before school and had lunch and sex with Tommy and Pat. After school, I took Martin to Bobby's and borrowed his bedroom where we did everything we could do in an hour. It was going to be a long weekend.

I got in a good run before going into the house. The carpenter gave me a dirty look, and I gave it back, as I passed through what was my cell door. The door itself was my bedroom door that had been moved and had a new lock installed. The plasterer was leaving as I came in but the carpenter waited for my father who arrived a few minutes later and accepted the keys. Without a word, he closed and locked the door.

'Liar, I shouted as he closed me in.'

'We'll see how much of a smartass you are Monday morning when you come out of there,' he called back through the door.

Mother brought me dinner at six thirty and said, 'I'm sorry, dear, but you brought this on yourself by always arguing and fighting with him.'

'Fuck him!'

'Malcolm, you mustn't speak like that to me.'

'Screw him! How's that?'

She left and locked the door. I ate and went to work on the window. We had screens that lifted out and were replaced with storm windows during the cold months. Below one of my windows was the roof of the back porch. I wasn't sure I could get over the rain spout to climb down but I'd certainly try. The problem was getting back up. There was rope and a ladder in the garage. I worried that I'd angered mother enough that she'd say something if she saw me using it during the day so the plan was to go out that night very late.

I went to bed at seven thirty and set my alarm for eleven thirty. Sleep came fairly quickly.

At eleven thirty, I got up and dressed. The screen had lift up latches near each corner. I tied two sheets together and tied one end to the radiator under the window. The slate roof was slippery even with my sneakers, and dirty. I lowered myself over the edge. The rain spout made a metallic noise and I passed over it swinging my legs to get hold of the four by four inch porch column.

I let myself into the barn with my key and turned on the light. There were three rolls of hemp rope. I took one and the six foot step ladder back to the porch. The ladder was far too short. I replaced it with the extension ladder. It was heavy and had to be dragged. Rather than leave tracks in the dirt and gravel drive up form the barn, I took across the grass up to the beginning of asphalt. It was a struggle to get up against the rain spout. The return to my room was easy. The rope replaced the sheets which required some serious shaking out to remove most of the black dirt from slate roof. I cut the rope off so there'd be just enough with the knots I planned to put in it for easier grips. With the ladder and remainder of the rope locked in the barn. I pulled myself back up and into my room. My exercises were really paying off.

I took a bath. In the tub I tried to figure out how to get the rope back on the roof while I was away during my father's absences. The solution was string and a hook of some kind. I'd throw the rope back up after lowering myself down then toss it up on the roof. The hook would be used to pull it back down.

What I really needed was a key to the door. There would likely be one in my father's dresser but I'd need to be alone in the house to go after that.

Saturday morning, mother asked me what I wanted for breakfast. I asked for a lot as I didn't plan being around for lunch. When she came to collect the dishes, I told her not to bother me until dinner. I figured she'd look in on me anyhow and wondered how she'd react when she found the room empty and my obvious means of escape.

As usual, my father left a little before ten for his country club. I was out the window and down the hill to the streetcar turnaround in minutes and at Bobby's house with Martin sixty-five minutes after climbing out my window.

On the way from Martin's, he told me Sister Kathleen, our principal, had called his mother and asked about the two of us. She had assured the nun that we were always well behaved and spent a lot of time together on our schoolwork.

Bobby hugged me the minute he saw me. Martin had told him what had happened. I told him about being locked up and my need to be back well before three.

'Let's go find somebody,' said Bobby dragging me toward the door.

Martin looked a little disappointed. I felt guilty. Bobby said, 'What?'

'Can you wait about twenty minutes?'

He stared us then said, 'No, but you stay here. I'll be back in half an hour, more or less.'

Holding hands, Martin and I went into the bedroom and stripped down to our bare feet. We necked for a while then Martin said, 'Do me, in the back.'

He didn't like to use the word fuck when talking about what he wanted done to himself. He lubed me up and I fucked him. I knew I wasn't going in far enough to make it feel really good. I think he just liked me on top of and inside him, as I did Freddy. I wondered if he had Steven fucking him too.

I tried to suck him while still up his rear like Bobby did to me but couldn't even get my extended tongue to the tip of his cock. I sucked him from below with him guiding my head, moving it side to side. The view up his torso was distracting. He must have thought I was prolonging his enjoyment because he didn't say or do anything when I slowed down a few times. When he came, he arched his middle into the air, his prostate pumping but producing nothing yet.

As we lay side by side in each other's arms, I asked Martin a question that had been in the back of my mind since hearing of his father's reaction to mine. 'If I ran away, you think your parents would let me stay with you some?'

Martin thought about it. 'I don't know. Maybe if you didn't say you'd run away, you could stay for a few days. But they'd come to my house looking for you and my parents would know.'

'Do you think they'd tell?'

'Maybe not. You gonna run away?'

'Maybe. I don't know. My father is talking about putting me in a school where you live far away. I'm not gonna do that.'

'When?'

'After camp.'

'So're you going to camp?'

'Probably.'

'But if you run away, what are you going to do? Where are you going to sleep? If you stay around here, they'll probably catch you. Lots a kids know you here. Somebody'll tell.'

'I dunno but I'm not going to a school away from you and Freddy.'

Martin hugged me.

Martin quickly got dressed when he heard the door open and voices in the front room. I recognized Steven's high pitched voice. 'Go see who's there,' I asked reclining nude on the bed. I'd hoped for something bigger up my ass.

Bobby stuck his head in the door right after Martin walked out. 'Spike's here and Stinky's coming.'

I hopped off the bed and peeked out the door. Steven saw me and came running. 'Take me first,' he pleaded excitedly. He pushed between Bobby and the door. 'I'll suck you after.'

'Aren't you going to go with Martin?'

'He says he's too tired right now. C'mon, let me in.'

I looked for Martin but he was talking to a bigger boy about fourteen or fifteen I'd seen around but didn't know. 'Okay, hurry.'

Bobby repeated 'Hurry.'

Steven was down to his socks in seconds. His little dick stuck out like a spike. He jumped up on the bed and lay back with his hands behind his head. I lay beside him my head to his crotch, his to mine, and went to work. Even with less than three inches, it was fun to do him because of his enthusiasm. His hands were quickly grabbing at my side, shoulder and head. I grabbed his round little ass and enjoyed the feel of it in the palms of my hands. His face rested on my hip, his eyes were fixed on my lips. He flexed like he was going to cum a couple of times before he actually did. Then he stayed flexed while little pulses ran up the underside of his steel hard pecker.

Before they stopped, I pushed his head into my crotch. He took me right in and worked hard and fast trying to get me off as quickly as possible. I just wanted him to do what he'd promised. Spike was outside with his four plus inches I would try again to convince him to stick in me and then came Stinky who would do it and do it very well. I let Steven take me close then pretended to climax. He let go immediately. I hoped he did it as well with Martin.

Steven walked out with his clothes on his arm, probably hoping for a second go round with someone. I followed him to the door but was met by Spike before I could go out.

'Hey, Malcolm, where ya been?'

'Around.' I stood in his path forcing him to make contact. He smiled as he pushed into me. I put my arms around him and squeezed. He stared down at me. His eyes were about two inches higher than mine. I brought my right hand town to his crotch and felt him. He was soft but grew as I kneaded him.

'Why don't we do it on the bed?' he asked.

'You gonna do it right today?'

'I always do it right. Whatta ya mean?'

'You know what I mean. You said next time. This is the next time.'

'I said maybe next time.' He walked forward slowly, pushing me back toward the bed.

'Well?' I lifted off his tee shirt. He raised his strong arms.

'I'll think about it.'

I sat on the bed and opened his pants while looking at his gorgeous body. He kept still as his fly went down and I stuck my thumbs inside his briefs and pushed everything down together. His cock sprang out, still only half erect. I slipped down between him and the bed to untie his shoes and give his penis half a suck on the way. I raised his feet one at a time and pulled off his shoes. His feet weren't as bad as some but they had an unwashed smell. I turned him and sat him on the bed so I could pull off his pants and socks. I wanted him completely naked. For the first time, I noticed a thin patch of fine blond hair growing just above his cock. I crawled between his thick thighs and pushed back his four inches to suck on his testicles, now the size of plump grapes. My plan was to suck my way up his body and sit on his cock. Spike had another plan.

When I lifted up to take in his cock, he wrapped his legs around me, holding me hanging over the side of the bed. I sucked up and down on his cock. 'Keep doing that.'

He sat up and guided my head with his hands. He wasn't going to fuck me. My cock lost its interest and drooped. I concentrated on getting him off. After a few minutes, he shot his sweet young sperm into my mouth. He fell back on the bed, his feet fell away from my buns where they'd held me captive.

Homely, slim Stinky made up for handsome, muscle Spike's anal timidity. Using some of Bobby's cooking oil to ease his way inside, Stinky filled my rectum and a bit of colon with his five inches of male organ. It had been a while since I'd had something this size inside me. Stinky could fuck nearly as nicely as Robert and the cooking oil would delay his climax. The slow penetration gave me time to enjoy him from my anus up through my rectum to my prostate and beyond. Halfway through, he rolled us over, pulling me on top. He lifted his knees and pumped harder upward, raising my middle as he thrust inside me. He held onto my tummy with one hand and ran the other back and forth over my dick and balls, occasionally dipping his finger down to feel his cock sliding in and out of me. I closed my eyes to concentrate on the feeling of his cock displacing my innards as it passed through. Stinky breathed hard through his nose. When he came, the first pulse hit exactly on an upstroke. He pushed my body higher as he shot his sperm into me and ran his fingers rapidly up and down my cock. I came in seconds. I only breathed in for a couple of seconds.

We both went limp. He massaged my crotch slowly with his palm and fingers. I turned my head back to his and kissed his cheek. He hugged me.

When we left the room, Martin, shirtless, and Steven, still naked, took our place. Spike had left. Bobby was face down on two sofa cushions with the fifteen year old's dick pumping slowly in and out of him. I sat on the floor in front of him and caressed his head watching the teen's ass rise and fall. The bigger boy grunted quietly with each stroke. Bobby put an arm around me. The teen pumped harder and harder until the three of us were sliding across the floor. He pushed up on his arms for his final thrusts. His face was contorted, his eyes squeezed shut. When he pulled out, I saw his wasn't much longer than Stinky but quite a bit fatter.

I sucked Bobby off. The teen laughed at us.

I waited for Martin and Steven. Without bothering to dress, possibly in hopes of a visitor or two, Bobby got to work in the kitchen. Martin told me Steven was going to spend the night with him and Dickie. I was jealous. I hugged him anyhow and headed home.

I used the step ladder and a broom from the barn to hook the rope on the back porch roof. I knew Adelaide was inside somewhere but didn't see her. Mother's car was gone.

My father came home at about three thirty as usual. I heard him walk by the door down the hall but not stop.

Sunday morning at Mass, Stewart nodded and smiled. He'd be able to go with me. Unfortunately, I wouldn't be able to go with him. I glumly shook my head. His smile melted away.

My parents went out for dinner. Mother brought me sandwiches and Kool Aid before they left and let me know they'd be back late. I gave her a quick hug, my peace offering for the cue that I had several hours to see Freddy.

The moment I heard the car drive out, I dug the rope out from under my pants in the bottom drawer of my dresser, tied it to the radiator, opened the window, removed the screen, tossed the rope out and climbed down.

Freddy and I enjoyed three hours of fun and intimacy.

'See, I tole you you'd find a way ta git out. You always do.'

I convinced him to run with me but was in better shape and had to slow for him halfway up the long hill.

Monday and Wednesday, I spent the afternoon at my grandparents with Freddy. Tuesday afternoon, I brought Martin home with me and discovered my mother's purse in the kitchen. She was with three friends, playing cards in the living room. I searched out her keys, ran upstairs and determined which was the one to my new door, took it off the ring and replaced the rest in the purse. Martin and I took off to the lumber yard which had a key making machine. I left Martin to walk back when he couldn't keep up with me when I returned running to the house. I was concerned mother might take her purse into the living room for some reason. It was still there. I replaced the key and awaited Martin. He was panting as he came through the back door.

I suggested a hot bath. We used our dicks to clean out each other's anal orifice.

Thursday evening following another afternoon with Martin, this time doing homework and reading, with an occasional lip lock, my parents again went out. I took a half hour run up the hill and watched television for an hour.

Saturday went as the week before except this time Robert was waiting at Bobby's. Sunday was a sad day. My parents were home all day keeping me in the room. Reading, exercising and listening to the radio kept my mind occupied for just so long. By dinner time, I was ready to fight but did my third set of exercises for the day, took my second bath and went to bed early.

The week went by fine. Victor had me twice. Tommy, Pat and Francis who was without girlfriend, plumbed me once each. Martin and I made love on top of my bed twice and in the boys room once. Sister Kathleen called me to her office Friday after recess. My rectum was full of Francis sperm. There was a bit in my underwear too, shot out by a long fart as I walked up the stairs. I hoped she couldn't smell it then realized she most likely wouldn't recognize it if she did.

'I just wanted to tell you that we have looked into the situation regarding you and Martin and are pleased that you have been helping him with his studies. Sister Bernice tells me that his grades have gone up since you began going to his house. She also tells me you are her top student right now and if you do as well on the exams next week as she expects, you will stay there. Just keep up the good work.' She smiled a nun smile.

It looked as though my father had lost another supporter.

Exam week was a breeze for me. One result of my time alone in my room and the help I'd been giving Martin was my familiarity with all our studies. I had to force myself to answer Catechism questions with the expected answers. I got hundreds on every exam beating out Herbert Reisin for top student.

The last weekend before camp, I entreated through my mother to be allowed my freedom. It was denied. Worried about his threat to put me in a boarding school, I limited my time away from the house to Saturday while he was at his club and Sunday afternoon when they went out. Saturday, I got fucked by Robert, Simon and Bobby and sucked Spike and Steven who then sucked me all the way. Martin came home with me and spent the night, sneaking out as the sun came out. We made love about every way two boys can during the night. What little sleeping we did was in each other's arms. There were tears in his eyes when he left me. We wouldn't see each other until September.

Sunday evening, I brought Freddy up to my bedroom. We had one long fuck then talked for a couple of hours. He wanted me to behave myself at camp so there wouldn't be any problems coming home in September. He was a bit concerned about how the camp people would react to a Negro visitor.

'I don't care what they think. You'll be there for me, not for them,' I told him.

With tears running down my cheeks, I held him on the back porch, told him I loved him and kissed his mouth twice.

'Don' git all emotional, Maacum, I'm gonna see you in two weeks from today.'

We hugged once more and he ran down the lawn, to the street and up, waving just before he disappeared behind our neighbor's tall hedge.

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Malcolm

Chapter 13

Bobby

by Michael Peterson