Welcome Guest, Not a member yet? Create Account  

Story-Portal Portal

Forum Statistics

14 Members,   3,536 Topics,   10,207 Replies,   Latest Member is Stanley


Information What Goes Around
Posted by: WMASG - 12-30-2025, 08:40 PM - Replies (1)

   



Saturday, August 26, 1961
 
Business had been brisk when Linda entered The Bungalow a week earlier, normal for a Saturday night. The smoke was so thick you could cut it with a knife. She took a stool at the bar, and while the bartender poured her a glass of Chardonnay she lit up a cigarette, further contributing to the atmosphere of the rural tavern.
 
A long time had passed since Linda had last hung out in a drinking establishment, even longer since she'd done it alone. Before the divorce, she and Richard went out occasionally, but since then her focus had been on her son. Now that the teenager was spending more time away from the nest, it was time for her to do the same.
 
The miniskirt that the blonde thirty-eight-year-old wore revealed a pair of well-preserved legs, which she kept crossed to avoid revealing a lot more. Her short halter top displayed her tight midriff to advantage and barely kept her ample breasts confined. Add to that the red shoes, and there wasn't much doubt about what she had in mind.
 
On the Wurlitzer jukebox, Patsy Cline was complaining that she was Falling to Pieces, at a volume that nearly precluded conversation. The raucous laughter coming from a group of loggers in one corner suggested there was more to Olympia beer than the water for which it was famous. The bartender watched the group carefully. He didn't want to, but he might have to cut them off.
 
In a few minutes, Linda's glass was nearly empty. The bartender was about to approach her about another when the frat boy jock sat down beside her.
 
"Can I buy you a drink?"
 
She smiled at him. "Sure. Thank you."
 
Without comment, the bartender brought him a Coors from the tap, and her another glass of wine, giving Linda time to assess her new companion. She doubted if he was twenty-one, but in rural bars at that time, attitude was more important than age.
 
And attitude was something the frat boy had in abundance. The OSU tank top he wore revealed biceps that spoke both of bodybuilding and hard work. Below his rock-hard abs, nearly-new shrink-to-fit Levi's revealed a package he was obviously proud of. He sampled his beer.
 
"I haven't seen you here before. Are you local?"
 
She took a sip of wine to calm her sudden nervousness.
 
"Yes, I live nearby. I don't get out much."
 
"That's too bad. You definitely brighten the place up."
 
Not a bad start for a pickup line. As she smiled at him, she wondered how experienced he was at picking up an older woman in a bar.
 
"Thank you." She glanced at the group in the corner. "I gather you're not a logger."
 
His smile was deliberately self-deprecating. "Nope, just a humble college student on a summer job with the forest service."
 
Humble, my ass. Full of yourself is more like it. Her hand touched his bicep lightly.
 
"You must work out a lot."
 
He smiled at her. "Nice of you to notice. Yeah, it goes with wrestling and playing football."
 
They sipped in silence for a few moments while the frat boy considered another pickup line. The bartender broke the tension by pushing a basket of peanuts closer to them. They occupied themselves for a while by shelling peanuts and making small talk until the college kid decided on the direct approach. He put his hand on her knee and looked into her eyes.
 
"It's kind of noisy in here. Maybe we should go somewhere quiet so we can talk without shouting."
 
She smiled and put her hand over his.
 
"Where did you have in mind?"
 
************
 
The sign at the Lucky Horseshoe Motel said there was a vacancy, unusual for the weekend at the no-tell motel where, if desired, rooms were available by the hour.
 
While the frat boy went into the office and secured a room for the night, Linda watched the horseshoe on the neon sign flash on and off with the same steady rhythm she hoped her hunk would use while screwing her. It occurred to her that she didn't even know his name. Did it matter? And he was half her age. All the better when it came to the bedroom.
 
In their dark room, the frat boy locked the door and closed the deadbolt. He turned to find Linda removing her blouse and skirt. Kicking off his shoes and stripping off his shirt, he pulled her into a close embrace and kissed her gently. As she unbuttoned his jeans and reached inside, she whispered words of surrender into his ear.
 
"Be gentle. It's been a long time."
 
He smiled, and his ego responded.
 
"I'll make it good for you."
 
He was true to his word. By the time the early summer dawn approached, Linda's needs had been fully satisfied. As she lay beside her young jock stroking his muscular chest, she regretted nothing.
 
 ************
 
As far as Linda was concerned, it had been a one night stand. She was trying to put her frat boy out of her mind when he called a few days later, inviting her to join him Saturday night at a local dance - a scholarship fundraiser sponsored by the Eagles. She accepted without hesitation. His younger brother, Buster, was staying with him for the week, and he knew from their previous encounter that she had a teenage son. Could Buster hang out with him for the evening?
 
Linda agreed without consulting her fifteen-year-old son, but when she approached him, she found she had a hard sell to make. Eric frowned.
 
"How old is this kid anyway?"
 
"He's a seventh-grader."
 
"So I'm supposed to baby-sit this kid while you go out and screw with your boyfriend."
 
His mom played the guilt card.
 
"I've spent years baby-sitting you, Eric. It's my turn. And where screwing is concerned, I suspect you've been getting your share."
 
The guilt helped, and the details of his own sex life were best avoided. He agreed, with a token show of reluctance.
 
"Okay, I'll do it. When do you expect to be home?"
 
"I don't know. Plan on making breakfast for Buster as well as yourself."
 
Eric suppressed a smile. Yes, his mom deserved her fun, and deep down he was happy she was getting some. Fun, that is. He gave her a quick kiss.
 
"I can handle that."
 
************
 
"I wish you'd wear something besides those indecent shorts and that obscene t-shirt. I don't want you to give my date the impression that you want him to screw you."
 
It was now Saturday evening, and his mom had pre-date jitters. Eric evaluated her closely.
 
"Why not? It's the impression you're going for."
 
"That's different."
 
"Not really."
 
She was getting further behind.
 
"Okay, but try not to have an erection when he gets here. It shows too well in those shorts."
 
He smirked. "I'm glad to hear it shows. I may have a hard time controlling it if he's as hot as I hope he is."
 
She stomped into the kitchen.
 
"Forget it."
 
Eric smiled. Since his dad left, his mom hadn't had a boyfriend. Now he realized how much shit he could give her, especially since they both understood he was gay. He hollered after her.
 
"How big is he?"
 
"About six feet. I suppose he weighs 180 pounds or so."
 
"Cool. I'm only six inches on a good day, and I never weighed mine."
 
She returned to the living room doorway long enough to glare at him.
 
"Very clever."
 
Eric smiled. Their relationship had undergone several changes lately, and was once again on the move. Eric was enjoying every minute of it. That was when the car, a 1956 Rambler, rolled into the driveway. The dots lined up. Eric grinned broadly.
 
"Did Gary show you how the seats fold flat in that model? You won't even have to get a motel."
 
"How did you know about that feature?"
 
"I read about it."
 
Her snort of derision suggested she didn't believe him. There was a moment of silence and then she was back in the doorway.
 
"How did you know his name was Gary?"
 
He was the picture of innocence.
 
"Didn't you mention it?"
 
She gave him a penetrating look before she replied.
 
"I guess I must have."
 
Gary and Buster got out of the car. Buster carried a small overnight bag, and he didn't seem too happy. Although about average for a seventh-grader, five feet tall and one hundred pounds looked small standing next to Gary. Wearing Levi's and an OSU tank top, the kid was a miniature version of his big brother, complete with a blond crew cut, developing biceps, and hard abs.
 
Eric got wood immediately. He looked down and smiled. Yes, his boner showed very well, and he made no attempt to hide it. In fact as his mom passed him on the way to the door, he rubbed it to make sure she noticed. She pretended to ignore him as she greeted their guests and made introductions.
 
"Eric, this is Gary, and this is Buster, of course. This is my son, Eric."
 
Eric smiled and shook Gary's hand.
 
"Hi, Gary. I'm pleased to meet you."
 
Gary didn't bat an eye.
 
"Nice to meet you too, Eric."
 
Eric gave Buster a high five.
 
"We're gonna have fun tonight. I've got some cool games we can play. And we can watch Gunsmoke since Mom won't be here to insist on The Lawrence Welk Show. Want a soda or something? Mom left some cookies on the table."
 
As they headed for the kitchen, Gary and Linda quickly departed.
 
Eric opened the refrigerator door, and Buster spoke for the first time. His voice was at that frustrating adolescent transition point where he sounded like a cross between Mickey Mouse and Johnny Bravo.
 
"How about a beer?"
 
"I'll see what I can find."
 
Eric didn't normally drink beer, but he'd been given no restrictions on what he could serve his guest - or consume with him. He looked in the back of the fridge and found a couple bottles of Coors. He popped the tops with the wall-mounted opener and handed one to Buster.
 
"Have you had dinner?"
 
"Yeah, Gary and I ate before we left home."
 
"Cool. There's leftover fried chicken in the refrigerator if you want some. Potato salad too, I think."
 
Buster took a swig from his bottle.
 
"This will be great. Thanks, Eric."
 
"Don't mention it."
 
Buster plopped down on the sofa in the living room and kicked off his shoes. He'd been looking at Eric's shirt.
 
"Did you really get laid at the Eros Arcade?"
 
Eric didn't want to get into that adventure. "No, it's just a joke."
 
"How did you get the shirt?"
 
"A friend bought it for me. Where I usually get laid is at Cock Rock."
 
Buster grinned. "Yeah, Gary told me about that place. He says it's got hot and cold running pussy."
 
The kid was clearly made from the same cloth as his brother. Eric pushed the conversation a little further.
 
"No lie. How about you? Ever had sex?"
 
Buster's eyes wandered. "Yeah, a few times."
 
Eric changed the subject. "Wanna watch TV? Or we've got a lot of card games and board games."
 
"Got a chess set?"
 
Eric was surprised. "Sure"
 
Buster turned out to be a good player, and a nice guy, demonstrating to Eric that he should avoid first impressions. Maybe Gary played chess too. When all you've done with a guy is have sex, it wasn't wise to make assumptions about other aspects of his life. Or his little brother's life.
 
Chess morphed into checkers, and then they took time out to watch TV. At some point, both boys had pulled off their shirts, and now they sat on the floor side by side with their backs against the couch and their shoulders touching, watching Gunsmoke. Eric put his arm around Buster's shoulders and pulled him closer.

Continue reading..

Information Wrestling Camp
Posted by: WMASG - 12-30-2025, 08:36 PM - Replies (1)

   



Tuesday, August 15, 1961
In 1961, J. K. Rowling was four years short of being born. Had it been forty years later with her fourth book in publication, Benji would have related well to fourteen-year-old Harry Potter's experience in the Triwizard Tournament, competing against a group of seventeen-year-olds.
The rest of the twelve boys who stood around the wrestling mat were sixteen and seventeen. At five foot four inches and one hundred thirty-three pounds, Benji was dwarfed by most of them. Several had been there the year before, and their looks of surprise upon seeing Benji told him his presence at the three-day district wrestling camp was unusual. The surprise was always followed by a smile and a welcoming handshake though.
Benji knew one of the instructors, Coach Wilson, his eighth grade coach. The only wrestler he recognized was Eric's friend, Kojo. What he had in common with Kojo was best not mentioned in the current setting, so they simply acknowledged each other with a nod and a quick smile.
Benji was a last-minute replacement. His friend, Hunter, who was originally selected to be the team's representative, had been given a slot at a two-week-long, prestigious national wrestling camp. Hunter had encouraged their coach to send Benji to the district event in his place, even though there were several more-experienced candidates.
After consultation with Benji's parents and eighth grade coach, the high school coach had agreed. But, unknown to Benji, it had been a hard sell with others, including the high school athletic director and the college coach who directed the event.
Though apprehensive, Benji was delighted to be there. It seemed like the opportunity of a lifetime, and he was determined to make the most of it.
************
By the end of the first day, Benji's spunky attitude and small stature had earned him the nickname Scrappy, and the unofficial status of wrestling camp mascot. He'd picked up quickly on the situational wrestling instruction. During the drills, he'd demonstrated skill and determination that surprised everyone, including the instructors.
The second day during the warm-up running activity, he led the pack all the way. And by the time the daily drills were over, he'd successfully taken down and pinned two significantly heavier wrestlers.
Eating in a college dining hall and staying in a dormitory were two more new experiences. After the evening meals, the wrestlers gathered in the dormitory common room, where Benji made new friends. The second night, he sat down for a conversation with Kojo.
"I didn't know you're a wrestler."
Kojo nodded his head. "I wasn't until this year. Barry talked me into trying out, and somehow he got me selected for this training."
Benji smiled. "I'm surprised to be here too. My friend, Hunter, couldn't come so they sent me instead. Barry knows Hunter from the state tournament last year."
Kojo paused briefly. "Barry and Eric have both mentioned Hunter. I'm looking forward to meeting him sometime. Maybe at a volleyball game."
"Peter keeps me informed about Barry. Did he tell you they were neighbors when they were younger?"
"Barry told me, in sign language, of course. Peter told me that you and Hunter might play volleyball next year."
"We're planning on it. From what we saw, you guys have a lot of fun."
Kojo smiled. "We do, and you will too."
Benji thought back to what he'd learned at the retreat he attended at Conboy Lake. It was like they were talking in a code that no one else would understand. It was a way of life. They belonged to a private club with secrets that couldn't be shared.
************
That second evening, the wrestlers were allowed off-campus for a few hours. Arnold, the boy closest in size to Benji, and therefore his frequent training partner, suggested the two of them go to a movie. With limited choices nearby, they chose The Parent Trap, a recently-released Disney film. Benji, who didn't often go to movies, enjoyed the comedy. Arnold came out strangely subdued. Benji noticed.
"Something wrong, Tripod?"
It was a nickname the other boys used, apparently given to Arnold at some time in the past. Benji used it innocently, not yet understanding its significance.
"No, it's nothing."
Benji dropped the subject for a while as they walked towards the college campus. He could sense Arnold's increasing depression and spoke again.
"If it's nothing, why are there tears in your eyes?"
Arnold quickly wiped away the tears.
"My parents are divorced. I live with my dad. Like the girls in the movie, I'd do anything to get them together again."
Benji was quiet for a while.
"That's a tough one. I wish I could help you."
"I don't think anyone can."
They were approaching their dormitory. Benji took another approach.
"Wanna come to my room and talk about it? I'm a good listener."
Arnold thought for a couple of moments. He didn't often talk about his problem with his peers because most kids just blew him off. But he could tell Benji was different.
They talked for hours, well past the official lights-out curfew. Benji said very little - he just let Arnold unload his pain. When Arnold finally got up to go, Benji gave him a hug.
"It'll work out, I know it will."
With tears in his eyes, Arnold hugged Benji back.
"I hope so. Thanks for listening. Nobody else ever does that. You're different."
If you only knew how different.
"I'll see you in the morning."
As he turned off the light and got into bed, Benji thought about how fortunate he was to have a complete family, even a brother now. That made him think about Peter's former home life. He wished he could help Arnold like he had Peter, but Arnold's situation was much different. 
************
The third day consisted of practice matches. With no other wrestlers in the 138-pound weight class, Benji would be wrestling Arnold. Though only four inches taller, Arnold's sixteen-year-old frame was more muscular, and he had two years of high school wrestling experience. As they faced off, the college wrestler who was acting as referee gave them some advice.
"Okay, this is for practice, guys, so have fun and don't try to kill each other. And Tripod, you've got a fifteen-pound advantage, so give Scrappy some slack."
Arnold's good humor had returned. He grinned wickedly.
"I don't think so. Scrappy already pinned me during drills."
Benji grinned back. "And I'm gonna do it again."
The ref slapped the mat, and Arnold quickly took Benji down. Benji just as quickly escaped, to the amusement of the young ref and the cheers and comments of the spectators.
"Scrappy's a wiry little bastard."
"I've never seen a kid as quick as he is"
"It's like trying to hold down a greased pig."
"He must run on pure adrenaline."
The two wrestlers circled each other, looking for an opening. Benji thumbed his nose at Arnold, earning laughter from the spectators and a warning from the ref.
"I said to have fun, but keep the behavior appropriate, Scrappy."
Arnold moved in, but Benji moved quickly behind him, as if he'd apparated. Arnold's second attempt produced the same result. The laughter was for Benji's technique, but the comments were impartial.
"Go Scrappy!"
"Keep your cool, Tripod. He's trying to throw you off balance."
"I think he's succeeding."
"Tripod went to state last year. He'll take him."
But that didn't happen. When Arnold moved in the next time, Benji grabbed his head and pulled it down. A surprise leg sweep put Arnold on his back, stunned. Before he knew what had happened, Benji had him pinned.
The spectators erupted with cheers. The two boys stood up with grins on their faces. The ref raised Benji's arm, indicating his win. Arnold grabbed Benji in a big hug, and then held him out to look at him.
"You're damned good, Scrappy. You'll go a long way. Just don't get too cocky."
Benji smiled happily. "Thanks a lot, Tripod. That means a lot coming from someone as experienced as you are."
************
Following dinner that evening, the camp director stood to make some announcements. After thanking the instructors for their assistance, and the participants for their attendance, he paused briefly to check his notes, and then looked up again.
"As most of you know, each year we award a trophy to the most inspirational participant - selected by you, the participants and instructors. This year, the vote was unanimous, with the exception of the recipient himself, of course. Benji, will you come up here and join me?"
Everyone rose and applauded as Benji walked to the head table and stood beside the director, and when he wiped away a tear of happiness, they cheered and applauded even more. The director smiled at Benji and continued.
"It's our practice to inscribe the recipient's full name on the trophy, so our engraver must have either misunderstood or delivered the wrong one." He inspected the trophy as if confused. "This one is for someone named Scrappy."
When the laughter subsided, he turned to Benji and shook his hand.
"Congratulations, Scrappy."
Flashbulbs went off as he presented the trophy, a statue of a wrestler standing in the neutral position. As Benji turned to leave, the director put a hand on his shoulder.
"Not so fast, Scrappy. I'm not finished."
After the laughter subsided again, he continued in a more serious tone.
"When Benji was suggested by his coach as a last minute replacement, I resisted. We'd never had an incoming freshman as a district wrestling camp participant, and I doubted the wisdom of doing so. Benji has demonstrated that my concerns were unwarranted. Thanks, Scrappy, for joining us this year. You're one in a million. I hope to be your coach when you select a college to attend."
As Benji returned to his seat, the group stood and applauded again, and slapped him on the back as he went by. As Benji had hoped, the three days had been the opportunity of a lifetime, a life-changing experience.
Dinner was followed by a party in the common room where the participants chatted with each other, shared wrestling advice, and laughed and joked about their recent experiences. A few of the boys were leaving after the party, but most were staying one more night. Since he was getting a ride home with Coach Wilson in the morning, Benji was among those staying.
As the evening activities came to an end, Arnold came over to give Benji another hug.
"Thanks for last night. You're a cool guy, Scrappy."
Benji put his arm around his new friend's shoulders.
"It was good to get to know you better."
Arnold pulled the younger boy close and whispered in his ear.
"Are you as scrappy in bed as you are on the mat?"
Taken by surprise, Benji hedged.
"What do you mean?"
Arnold smiled. "It's okay. I know Kojo very well, and he told me the three of us have something in common."
Benji smiled back, somewhat tentatively.
"Well, I'm glad I don't have a sign on my back that reveals my sexual identity."
Arnold chuckled. "So, how about it? I'm in the room in the basement. Do you wanna have a little fun?"
Benji hesitated. Other than staying up late to talk with Arnold, he'd carefully obeyed the rules. He didn't want to spoil his experience by getting caught having sex. Arnold smiled at him.
"Think about it, Scrappy. If you decide to come down, I'll be waiting for you. Don't bother to knock. Just come in. And one more thing."
"Yeah?"
The wicked grin from the day before appeared again. "I dare you to come in naked."

Continue reading..

Information Adult Movie Arcade
Posted by: WMASG - 12-30-2025, 08:33 PM - No Replies

   


Tuesday, August 8, 1961
Once again, Eric was hitchhiking, a form of transportation which was also becoming a form of recreation. In addition to a pair of flip-flops, he wore his white, lightweight Parr of Arizona tank trunks - sure-fire bait for getting a ride, and sometimes more. A t-shirt was draped casually over his shoulder.
This time, his benefactor was a frat boy driving a 1956 Rambler. The hunk had driven past him slowly, then gone around the block in order to pick him up. The OSU tank top he'd been wearing on the first pass was notably missing when he stopped. As he rolled down the passenger window, his smooth, muscular torso made Eric's mouth water and his cock stiffen.
"Where are you going, buddy?"
"Lloyd Center."
"So am I. Hop in. I'm Gary."
Eric had a suspicion the frat boy's destination had been modified to suit that of his own. He climbed in and tossed his t-shirt into the back seat next to that of the driver. The maneuver pushed the tip of his semi-hard cock above the waistband of his shorts, where he left it.
"Thanks for the ride, Gary. I'm Eric."
"Glad to help you out. What takes you to the Lloyd Center?"
"They're having a big one-year anniversary celebration."
"Yeah, I hear it's the biggest mall in the country."
"That's what they say. Bigger than the Northgate Mall in Seattle, for sure."
Having merged with freeway traffic, Gary checked Eric out. The lust in his eyes and the ridge on the left side of his Levi's cutoffs made his interest clear.
"Nice shorts, Eric."
"Thanks."
"Dressed like that, I thought you were going to Rooster Rock."
"Not today."
Gary checked him out again, focusing on the blond fifteen-year-old's exposed shaft.
"Ever get any pussy on that nude beach at Cock Rock?"
Eric smiled inwardly. Getting screwed was half the fun of hitchhiking, and the frat-boy stud would be an easy score. He'd play his diffident, innocent, backwoods-boy role - one he'd found useful in the past.
"No, I haven't. How about you?"
Gary smirked. "Lots of times."
Eric knew it was bullshit. The girls, few as there were, all hung out at the main beach with their parents or boyfriends. He played along with Gary's fantasy.
"I didn't know there were girls there who'd put out." He smiled shyly. "Besides, I wouldn't know what to do with it if they offered it to me."
Gary laughed as he glanced at the boner emerging from Eric's shorts.
"With a cock like that, you'd be a shoo-in. Why don't you pull it all the way out and show it to me?"
As if he'd suddenly realized he was exposed, Eric pushed his pole back into his shorts.
"I don't know…"
"Come on. I'll show you mine if you show me yours."
Eric hadn't heard that line since grade school. With a show of hesitation, he reached for the tabs of the zippers hidden in the side seams of his shorts and partially opened them. Gary glanced down.
"Cool shorts." He winked conspiratorially . "Easy to get them off for a beach-towel quickie."
That was very true. Eric had taken advantage of the feature more than once, but the quickie hadn't been in the orifice Gary was promoting. He smiled shyly.
"Yeah, I guess so."
Gary reached over and ruffled Eric's hair.
"You gotta get over being bashful, boy. You'll never get any pussy that way."
Eric's pussy-mentor had forgotten his name. Since he was now just "Boy", he gave Gary his best boyish smile. Gary continued.
"Now pull out that nice boner and show it to me."
With pretended reluctance, Eric pulled out his pole. Gary inspected it.
"Nice. Stroke it a few times."
"But..."
"Go ahead. Don't be shy."
Anxiously watching Gary, Eric stroked his pole, quickly making it harder and longer. Gary looked over again.
"You've got a nice one, kid. You gotta use it for something besides jacking off. Leave it out and play with it some more. I like looking at it."
"Are you gonna show me yours now?"
"A little later. Can't do it while I'm driving."
Eric could have solved that problem, but it wasn't in his script.
As Gary shifted down to take the Lloyd Center exit, he put his hand on Eric's knee, and then let it drift upwards to grasp the boy's throbbing pole. Still doing his shy act, Eric put his hand on Gary's wrist as if to pull it away, but then arrested the action and looked out the window as if he'd decided to ignore what the frat boy was doing.
In the park-like area that fronted the mall, a couple of shirtless hunks were playing with a Frisbee, a popular toy that had come out a few years earlier. As Eric watched them, Gary took the conversation in a new direction.
"Ever mess around with a guy?"
Still watching the hot Frisbee players, Eric replied hesitantly, as if reluctant to reveal such a thing.
"Yeah, a little bit... With a friend... Once."
Gary removed his hand and turned into the mall entrance. In reality, Eric had no interest in the mall - it was only a starting point to walk downtown. Stroking his pole slowly and seductively, he turned back towards Gary and made an offer he expected to be refused.
"You can let me out here if you want to."
"I wanna check out the inside parking area. I'll take you to the elevator."
Gary circled up the ramp to the unoccupied top level. Parking in the corner furthest from the elevator, he turned off the engine.
"Time to pay for the ride."
Eric feigned confusion.
"What do you mean?"
Gary unbuttoned his cutoffs. Eric salivated. The guy was a hunk with a cock to match.
"Pull the seat forward and then lift the lever on the right side of the seat. Five times"
Eric fell backwards in stages as the seat folded flat. Gary laughed at his look of surprise.
"I guess that feature of the Rambler is new to you. Take off your shorts."
"Why?"
"As if you don't know."
"I don't wanna take 'em off."
"Take 'em off anyway."
"You're gonna fuck me, aren't you?"
"Is the pope Catholic?"
"I don't want you to fuck me."
"Tough shit. Take 'em off."
Eric was having fun. He slid further onto the backseat. Unzipping both sides, he pulled his shorts out from under himself and laid them beside his shirt. Kicking off his flip-flops, he rested his feet on the edge of his seat. He watched in silence as Gary lubricated his pole, then reached between the younger boy's legs to grease the portal to paradise.
"Did your friend go all the way?"
"What friend?"
"The one you messed around with."
"All the way where?"
"Don't play dumb with me, kid."
"I don't know what you mean?"
"Didn't he fuck you?"
"No, he gave me a blow job."
"You've never been fucked?"
"No."
Gary smiled with satisfaction. Setting the lube aside, he dropped the driver's seat down and carefully positioned himself on top of the younger boy. Moving his feet to the dashboard, Eric continued with his role.
"Aren't you gonna take your shorts off?"
"No."
"Why not? You made me take mine off."
"I can fuck you just as well with them on."
"Are you gonna pull out?"
"Sure, after I go all the way."
"All the way where?"
"Listen, kid. Are you trying to jerk me around?"
"Why would I wanna do that?"
"Quit stalling, kid."
"I just wanna know... No... Don't... Oh, fuuuuuck!"
With his bare feet pressed against the dashboard, Eric clutched at the edges of the seat and howled with simulated dismay as Gary pushed his pole in balls-deep. Suppressing a smile, he delivered the last line of his innocent-backwoods-boy script.
"You can't do this to me!"
Gary pulled back and slowly thrust in again. Then he looked down at Eric's stunned expression with a satisfied smile.
"Oh, yeah? Watch me."
Now seemingly resigned to the event, Eric idly stroked Gary's muscular back, waiting for the grunt of pleasure which would tell him the stud had finished servicing him.
As Gary blew his load, Eric smiled to himself. A half-dozen adolescent drivers now thought they'd taken his virginity. It was more fun for both of them that way.
************
In the warm, late-morning sun, Eric walked the mile down the hill and across the river to the downtown area. He would have taken the bus, but he'd forgotten his shirt when Gary dropped him off at the mall entrance on his way out. He'd buy another one if he needed it, which he might. Carrying out the rest of his plan for the day would be tricky.
The first adult movie arcade in town, even newer than the Lloyd Center, had recently opened. He'd heard about it on the radio, mostly because of the protests over its existence. He'd laid as much groundwork as he could. Now he'd see if he could get in.
As expected, the arcade was in the seedy part of the downtown area. A shirtless fifteen-year-old in sexy shorts was an anomaly that turned the heads of passers-by. Oblivious to the attention he was getting, Eric continued until he was in front of a marquee that both warned and titillated the observer about the delights inside - and specified clearly that one must be eighteen to enter.
Eric opened the opaque glass door and entered, not prepared for what he found. Most of the store was occupied by magazines, the full-color covers of which showed young women displaying their assets as fully as possible while still modestly clothed. Beyond that were more racks with 8MM movies for sale, guaranteed to reveal every sexual perversion known to man. Behind the counter was a display of primitive rubber dildos, and in front of them, a bored clerk in his early twenties. The clerk surveyed Eric with a jaundiced eye.
"How old are you, kid?"
"Eighteen."
"Let's see some ID."
From the hidden pocket on the front right side of his shorts, Eric pulled out a driver's license with a photo in which he'd tried to look as mature as possible, and on which he'd rubbed dirt to make it appear it wasn't only a week old. The document declared that he was a couple of months past his eighteenth birthday. The clerk looked up at him.
"Where's your shirt?"
"I lost it."
The clerk stared at him for several seconds. Eric boldly stared right back. A fleeting smile crossed the clerk's face.
"You've got more balls than a brass monkey, kid. If you're eighteen, I'll eat my hat. But I like kids with balls. What can I do for you?"
Eric put back the driver's license and handed the clerk a five-dollar bill.
"I need some quarters."
The clerk counted them out and handed them to him.
"The door's to your left."
"Thanks."
Eric wanted to check out the magazines, but he also wanted to be out of sight of the clerk before the guy changed his mind. He headed for the door to the darkened back room. At the entrance, a bulletin board revealed what movie was showing in each of the ten booths. All of them were straight. Eric was disappointed, but not surprised. Gay movies weren't exactly mainstream yet. As he turned to leave, the clerk spoke again.
"Try eleven and twelve. At the end of the room. We don't advertise the gay films."
"Okay, thanks."
As he turned again towards the back room, movement nearby got his attention. Pausing briefly, he saw a boy holding a magazine and evaluating him closely. Apparently it was underage-patron day, because the kid wasn't more than a couple of years older than Eric.
Eric did a similar evaluation. In keeping with the current teen fads, the boy wore a spotless, white t-shirt; white Converse athletic shoes; and extra-long, loose-fitting Levi's with the cuffs turned up four inches. With curly black hair and dark expressive eyes, the high-school jock was a walking wet dream.
Still wishing to be away from the watchful eye of the clerk, Eric quickly stepped into the arcade room. It was clean, but it had a unique pungent odor that he couldn't identify. Everything was painted black, and the only illumination was provided by a handful of nightlights and the emergency exit sign over the door in the rear.
As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, Eric took stock of his surroundings. The room was thirty feet long and twelve feet high. An eight-foot-wide hallway led from the front to the rear. Along each side were six cubicles with seven-foot-high walls. Each cubicle was five feet wide and ten feet deep and contained a single continuous-loop movie projection system housed in a plywood enclosure. The backs of the three-foot-wide enclosures faced the hallway, leaving a two-foot-wide, open walkway around to the private, recessed viewing screen inside the cubicle.
The whirring sound of movie projectors indicated three were in use. Eric was happy to find the two at the end vacant. Arbitrarily selecting the one to the right, he walked down the narrow seven-foot-long walkway and turned into the open space in front of the viewing screen. A single nightlight allowed him to observe a box of tissues and a wastebasket, and to find the coin slot in which to drop a quarter.
The silent movie started where the last patron had left it. Projected onto the screen, two naked, agile eighteen-year-olds wrestled on a bed. The wrestling quickly transitioned to kissing and groping. Then the screwing began.
The boys were hunks, and Eric was quickly hard. Unzipping both sides of his shorts, he removed them and hung them over the dividing wall. Dropping a little saliva onto his boner, he began to jack off, synchronizing his strokes with the boy in the movie. He was just getting into his stride when the screen went blank. Oh yeah, more quarters. He inserted the rest.
As the movie began again, Eric sensed a presence and turned to look. The boy he'd seen earlier had slipped unnoticed down the walkway, and now stood silently behind him. His shirt was draped over one shoulder, and he was unbuttoning his Levi's. Eric watched as he pulled out a magnificent boner and began to stroke it.
Eric's eyes took in the boy's rock-hard abs, smooth muscular chest, and broad athletic shoulders on their way up to his innocently seductive face. He was the personification of youthful sensuality. Influenced by the pheromones emanating from the boy's faint musky scent, Eric reached out and gently touched his hard abs.
"Wanna watch with me?"
"Yeah."
The boy hung his shirt next to Eric's shorts and inserted several quarters into the machine. Eric moved to one side so his companion could see better. His eyes returned to the movie, and his hand to his pole, but his mind was on the boy behind him.
After a few moments, the boy's hands reached around to roam over Eric's chest and abs, and then moved back to caress his ass cheeks. Eric gasped and his knees buckled as a middle finger found his pucker, still sensitive from the stimulation it had received only an hour earlier.
Placing his other hand flat on Eric's abs, the boy gently teased the portal open and slid his finger inside. Eric squirmed in ecstasy as the boy gently massaged his prostate before twisting the finger in as far as it would go.
Removing his finger, the boy slid his rigid pole along Eric's ass crack, and then down between his legs. With a sudden rush of excitement, Eric realized it was lubricated.
"Wanna fuck me?"
"Yeah."
"Go for it."
Eric spread his feet apart and braced himself against the projector enclosure. His companion positioned the tip of his pole and gently pressed forward. Eric groaned with excitement as the steel-hard shaft gained entry and slowly buried itself inside him.
His hands now on Eric's shoulders, the boy began a slow thrusting motion. He adjusted his position slightly to increase his depth of penetration. The boy might only be a year or two older, but he knew how to screw standing up.
Eric moaned softly as his sexual excitement grew. Part of his attention was still on the movie, where the top was screwing his buddy doggie style. His buddy clearly enjoyed it. Eric was enjoying the hard cock inside him too.
"Gonna go all the way?"
"Are you cool with that?"
"Yeah."
Now the boy's hands grasped Eric's hips as he drove in harder and faster. Eric's arousal intensified, and precum dripped continuously from his hard cock as his companion approached his climax.
The end came suddenly for both of them. The boy gasped with excitement as he drove his pole in deep and held his position. As his body pumped spunk into Eric, the younger boy blew his load against the projector enclosure.
The boy pulled out slowly, buttoned his Levi's, and retrieved his shirt. Pausing briefly, he put a hand on Eric's shoulder.
"Thanks, buddy. That was awesome."
"My pleasure."
As his companion quickly departed, Eric stretched, and then made use of the box of tissues and waste basket before reaching for his shorts. The movie was still playing. No longer interested, he returned to the front room. The clerk looked up from the dimestore novel he was reading.
"Did you have a good time with my kid brother?"
It took a few seconds. A smile slowly spread across Eric's face.
"Yeah, I had a really good time."
The clerk chuckled. "So did he."
A light was dawning.
"Is that why you let me in?"
The clerk put down his book. "Yeah, he hangs around when I'm working. Sometimes, I let a kid like you in for him to have sex with." He handed Eric's five-dollar bill back. "It's on the house today."
Eric looked at the shirts on the wall and returned the five dollars.
"I'll need a shirt to ride home on the Greyhound." He pointed. "I'd like one of those, size medium."
The clerk handed him a white t-shirt that announced in bold black letters:
I GOT LAID
at the
EROS ARCADE
Then he reached under the counter.
"Here's a magazine I think you'll like, compliments of our distributor."
The magazine was in a plain brown wrapper. Eric pulled it out and looked at the cover, then the centerfold. The two guys screwing were nowhere near eighteen. He grinned up at the clerk.
"Thanks, buddy. This has been an awesome day."

Continue reading..

Information He's My Brother
Posted by: WMASG - 12-30-2025, 08:31 PM - No Replies

   


Wednesday, August 2, 1961
Although a year apart in school, Benji was only six months older than Peter. With a difference of only a couple of inches in height and a few pounds in weight, the two were nearly identical in size, and both were trim, fit, and athletic in appearance. Although their parents purchased new clothes for Peter, he was happier wearing Benji's than his own. Both boys viewed the contents of their closet as common property - sharing was a way of life.
The two boys were far from identical in other respects. Benji's black hair and dark eyes were a sharp contrast to Peter's pale blond hair and green eyes, the latter a clue to his Irish heritage. Once the younger boy's pallid, indoor complexion had been replaced by a dark tan, the overall effect turned heads wherever he went. Far from being jealous of the attention Peter received, Benji was happy to see his brother thriving in his new environment.
And nowhere did he thrive more than at the weekly volleyball games, where he and Darren had immediately joined Eric and Nick.
After they went to bed each night, Benji and Peter would lie side by side sharing all their experiences of the day. With more knowledge of Peter's activities than their parents, Benji's self-assigned role became that of watchful big brother. He had someone to love and look after, and he took the responsibility seriously. No one was going to hurt his little brother in any way, never mind that his little brother was nearly as big as he was.
The previous Wednesday, Peter had reported an unusual event, causing Benji to take advantage of his relationship with Hunter as his mentor and friend. The result was that, unknown to their four friends who participated, Benji and Hunter were on their way to the clothing-optional beach to watch the volleyball games.
As Hunter turned off the freeway into the state park, he directed his attention to Benji.
"Okay, now that we're here, refresh my memory on the incident."
Benji looked out the window long enough to check out some hot guys throwing a Frisbee, a recent addition to the outdoor recreation scene.
"After the volleyball games and the pizza feed were over, Peter left the group to take a leak. As he started back, this guy in his early twenties approached him and said he was a talent scout for a modeling agency, and he was looking for someone like Peter. He invited him to go for an audition. Peter is street-smart, and he smelled a rat and politely declined."
"Did any of the other guys witness this?"
"I checked with Nick and Eric. Neither of them saw anything. I asked Nick to let the referees know about a possible problem. I don't know if they'll talk with Peter, but at least they'll be aware."
"And you have a description from Peter?"
"Yeah, a pretty good one. White guy, about five foot six, one hundred fifty pounds, brown hair that needs a trim. But there's one thing that makes him stand out from everyone else."
"And what's that?"
Benji smiled slightly. "He was wearing slacks, deck shoes, and a polo shirt. In other words, he was fully clothed."
They paused while Hunter parked the car. Wearing cutoffs and athletic shoes, they walked towards the beach.
"Why didn't you have Peter report it to the authorities and let them handle it?"
Benji paused for a few moments.
"Because I don't trust them to do anything about a one-time event that nobody else saw."
"So what are you and I gonna do about it?"
Benji was quiet for a while.
"I'm not sure. I just wanna protect my brother."
"He handled it pretty well himself."
"Yeah, but the guy might catch him alone and not take no for an answer another time."
Hunter put a hand on his shoulder. "You really love Peter, don't you?"
Benji swallowed hard. "Yeah, I do. I'd do anything to keep him safe. And I'm concerned about the other younger boys too. None of them are safe with a predator around."
Arriving at the beach, they started upriver.
"Okay, do you have a plan?"
"Look up the beach about a quarter mile. See the guys playing volleyball?"
"Yeah, I see that."
"You can see the woods across from them. What I want is for us to sit back in the trees where we can watch the games and the pizza party that follows and see if anything happens."
"And what if we see the guy?"
Benji was quiet for a few long moments.
"I don't know yet for sure. I think we gotta play it by ear."
Hunter was quiet for a while.
"It's a little sketchy, but yes, we can watch and plan as we go."
"I really appreciate you helping me with this."
Hunter smiled and gave Benji's neck a friendly squeeze .
"It's what friends are for."
************
Having left the beach a couple hundred feet short of the volleyball game, Hunter and Benji sat in the woods, watching quietly. Wearing identical white Speedos, a recent import from Australia, Peter and Darren were playing against the Korean twins. Kofi and Eric were playing against Kojo and a dark-haired guy in white shorts that Benji didn't know. Kofi wore the traditional jockstrap, but Eric sported his mail-order shorts, which had become his summer uniform. Kofi and Eric soon lost the game. Benji identified the two African-Americans.
"Eric's teammate must be Kofi, and the other black guy would be his older brother Kojo. Eric told me about them. I don't know the other guy."
Hunter filled in the missing identification.
"The other guy's name is Barry. I met him at the state wrestling tournament. You should remember him. He's a guy I beat in the semifinals - a sophomore from Portland."
Benji looked again. "Yeah, I remember now. I thought he looked familiar."
"Did you notice him using sign language with Kojo? He can hear okay, and understands most of what you say to him, but he can't communicate by speaking due to a head injury. He does well by pointing, and using hand gestures and sign language. Kojo must know sign language."
It was a long morning, but not boring. Watching the games was fun. Hunter thought playing would be too.
"You and I should join this group."
"Maybe later. Right now it's an opportunity for Peter to get away from his bossy big brother."
Hunter laughed softly. "From what I've seen, your relationship with your brother is perfect."
Benji smiled. "And I hope it stays that way."
The pizza arrived shortly after noon, and now Hunter and Benji observed the socialization. Benji watched Peter in particular, a happy boy, laughing and having fun with his friends. Tears came to Benji's eyes, and his heart was filled with happiness at what he saw.
Then he remembered why they were there and looked around. There was still no evidence of any suspicious strangers.
He looked back at Peter. His brother was spending a lot of time with Barry. The boys were all friendly with the boy, but because of his speech limitation, they had a hard time communicating with him. The two exceptions were Kojo, who knew sign language, and Peter. The younger boy grasped that Barry could hear well, so he talked with him like he would anyone else. Barry responded with a combination of sign language, hand gestures, and facial expressions, all of which Peter understood instantly.
There was a lot of touching too. Barry's hands were often on Peter's shoulders while the younger boy leaned back against his chest, smiling with happiness. Benji commented to Hunter.
"Peter's made an instant bond with Barry."
Hunter had noticed too. "It's almost like they already knew each other."
Benji joked. "Maybe in a previous life?"
Hunter smiled. "I think they're just natural soulmates."
Benji looked around for strangers again. Nudging Hunter, he pointed. A guy meeting the description of the predator was walking casually up the beach from the direction in which they'd come. From time to time, he stopped and bent over as if to pick something up. Continuing a short distance beyond Hunter and Benji's hiding place, he moved off the beach and sat near the same grove of trees, watching the boys finish their pizza.
Darren, now wearing his cutoffs, left the group and headed for the trees. Stepping into the woods, he relieved himself and began to return to the party. The stranger beckoned Darren to come over and talk with him. After a minute or so of conversation, the two began to walk back towards the parking lot. Benji started to get up, but Hunter stopped him.
"Follow my lead."
Hunter waited until the two had passed their position.
"Get up slowly and walk with me. Pretend we're having a conversation. I'm gonna take him down. Once I do, help me keep him there. I think we'll have more help very quickly."
Hunter and Benji walked to the beach and moved in behind the other two, apparently absorbed in conversation, slowly closing the distance. The stranger had his arm around Darren's shoulders, talking earnestly. Darren was eating it up.
They were within fifteen feet before the man noticed them, still not alarmed. Hunter made his move. Before the predator knew what had happened, the state champion wrestler had him flat on the ground with his arms pinned behind his back. Benji's help wasn't required. Hunter spoke quietly, but there was no doubt he meant every word.
"Don't move or I'll break your fucking neck."
He looked up at Darren, who stood by watching, his mouth wide open.
"Where was he taking you?"
"For an audition. He was gonna make me into a model for advertisements. And maybe get me a small part in a movie."
Hunter addressed Benji.
"Go back and get the referees and a length of rope."
The referees were already running in their direction. Hunter looked at Benji again.
"Change of plans. Go call the authorities from the payphone by the restroom. Wait for them and send them here."
************
The park ranger arrived within five minutes. Benji directed him up the beach to where Hunter and the referees were now guarding their bound prisoner. The ranger gave him instructions.
"Wait here and make sure the sheriff's personnel know where to go."
With that, he took off running.
It took the first two deputies another five minutes to arrive with the red lights on their squad car flashing. Giving Benji instructions to wait, they headed up the beach at a trot.
An ambulance, sent as a precautionary measure, arrived next. One of the two EMTs approached Benji.
"I understand you're a witness. Are you okay?"
He'd been okay up to then, but suddenly he was shaking like a leaf. The EMT led him to a picnic table, asked him to sit down on the bench, and checked his vital signs.
"You'll be okay, buddy. Just sit here quietly and wait. The deputies will want to talk with you."
A second sheriff's vehicle arrived. One of the deputies joined the group on the beach, while the other stayed to interview Benji.
************
In handcuffs, the captive was led to the parking lot by two of the deputies. The third guided Hunter and Darren in the same direction. The other boys were asked to return to their activities, but Eric, feeling responsible for his younger friend, followed at a distance.
The predator was placed in the back of a patrol car and monitored by one of the officers. As Eric watched from the sidelines, the other three officers interviewed Hunter, Benji and Darren separately.
It took a half hour to interview the three boys. Benji told his interviewer about Peter's experience of the week before. There was a certain amount of dissatisfaction that Peter hadn't reported the incident, but he'd committed no crime and the issue was quickly dropped. Peter would be interviewed later if necessary.
Questions were also asked about why Hunter and Benji were there, but it was hard to refute their claim that they were simply watching the games. Furthermore, since the boys had bagged a known child molester with outstanding warrants, the deputies were inclined to overlook minor discrepancies.
When the questioning was finished, and the deputies and emergency personnel had departed, the four boys had their own debriefing. Eric felt like he'd let Darren down.
"I should have been watching more closely and it wouldn't have happened."
Hunter disagreed.
"We can watch out for each other as much as possible, but we can't always be in the right place at the right time. It's not your fault. These things happen. I'm glad Benji asked me to join him today, though. Otherwise, it might not have worked out as well."
Darren was pale and emotionally drained.
"I should have known better. Peter did."
Benji put an arm around his shoulders.
"Peter's a street-savvy city boy. You're just a dumb backwoods boy."
That drew laughter from Eric and Hunter, and a faint smile from Darren.
"I know better now. And right now, I just wanna go home."
Hunter stood up and pulled his keys out of his pocket.
"I'll take you." He turned to Eric and Benji. "How about you two?"
Still feeling that he'd somehow failed, and wanting to provide more support, Eric stood up too.
"I'll go with you. Benji, why don't you stay? Nick will take you and Peter home. They can introduce you to some of the guys. You can bring my towel and stuff and the rest of Darren's gear."
Benji smiled. "Works for me."
************
At the volleyball site, a few boys continued to play. Some had dispersed for other afternoon activities. Peter, Kojo, Kofi, and Barry sat nearby, waiting to find out what had happened.
Peter gave Benji a slice of leftover pizza and introduced him to the other three boys, identifying Barry as Kojo's classmate and a newcomer to the games. Benji sat down on Eric's towel.
"The excitement is over, I guess. Hunter, Eric and Darren went home." He looked around, and then at Peter. "I suppose Nick is still around somewhere."
As if on cue, Nick materialized from the woods. Benji looked up at him.
"I'm supposed to get a ride home with you and Peter."
"Do you want to head for home now, or stay for a while?"
Benji looked towards Peter for his opinion. Peter shrugged his shoulders.
"It's up to you, Benji. You look a little beat."
Benji pushed his perspiration-soaked hair up out of his eyes.
"I am." He looked up at Nick. "Let's go now."
Nick smiled. "You got it, buddy."
**********
When Peter and Benji arrived home, they discovered that the neighborhood information network was working well. Darren's mom had reported the full details of his incident to their parents. Their dad had questions, first, for Peter.
"Why didn't you tell us what happened last week?"
"Because it didn't seem to me to be a big deal."
"It was a big enough deal to tell Benji."
"Yeah, but Benji and I tell each other everything, even stuff that doesn't seem important."
Their astute parents weren't about to discourage that communication. It was Benji's turn to be questioned.
"Why didn't you tell us more about what you and Hunter had planned today?"
Benji sounded defensive.
"I told you we wanted to watch the games, and we did. I also wanted to make sure it's safe for my brother to keep on playing. I think it's good for him. That's all we had planned. The rest just happened."
Their dad paused. Benji was telling the truth, more or less. It was time to drop the subject.
"Maybe you and Hunter should play next week instead of watching."
"It'll be okay now. The refs will be watching and all the players are on guard. Maybe Hunter and I can join them next year. For now, it's a special activity for Peter and Darren to share."
**********
That night after the boys went to bed, Benji raised a different issue.
"You seemed to hit it off really well with Barry. Is Darren past history?"
"No, Darren's my boyfriend, but Barry's the reason I'm here."
Benji turned his head. "Okay, you gotta explain that one."
Peter smiled softly. "Barry's the friend who first showed me the waterfall where you and I met."

Continue reading..

Information He Ain't Heavy
Posted by: WMASG - 12-30-2025, 08:28 PM - No Replies

   

Tuesday, July 4, 1961
He'd done it on a whim. The waterfall, a mile up the creek that ran past his home, was accessible by a trail in the state park, but Benji wanted to see if he could get there by wading and rock hopping up the creek itself.
The Fourth of July seemed like a good day for the activity. His best friends, Hunter and Eric, were away on vacation. He lacked interest in fireworks - they were dangerous, in his opinion. Not only could you damage yourself, but the potential for starting a forest fire was way too high. And as to the parade in town - been there, done that.
It turned out to be easy for the agile fourteen-year-old. In far less time than anticipated, he rounded a bend in the creek and the ninety-foot waterfall was directly in front of him. Not much water flowed over at this time of year, but it was still impressive. Now, he set himself another goal - to get to the top of the falls and return via the trail. It would be a longer walk, but he'd had enough rock-hopping for the day.
After assessing the possible routes, Benji walked up a side channel for a short distance and then traversed to his goal. It was challenging rather than dangerous, but he breathed a sigh of relief when he arrived at the top of the falls.
The trail itself was still a hundred feet up the hillside, a climb that was simple compared to what he'd just accomplished. He was ready to start when movement at the top of the waterfall caught his attention.
Thirty feet away, the boy stood near the edge looking down. Too close to the edge, in Benji's opinion. He suddenly feared what the boy might have in mind. Speaking no louder than necessary he called out to the boy.
"Hey, buddy, are you okay?"
************
Standing on his front porch with tears in his eyes and his suitcase at his side, Peter had considered his options to the best of his thirteen-year-old ability. He knew he had to leave, but he had no idea where to go. To his knowledge, he had no relatives, at least that his father would speak of. He also had no friends - the other boys' parents didn't want them to have anything to do with his kind. His mother was dead, his father an alcoholic, and his father's girlfriend a drama-queen prostitute.
If the bitch hadn't caught him giving a blowjob to the teenage son of the client she'd been servicing, his father never would have known. But she had, and told his father, so now Peter had to find a new place to live. He looked at the wad of bills his father had thrown at him as he shoved him out the door. About fifty dollars - the slut's proceeds from the night before. Drying his eyes, he picked up the money and his suitcase and walked away.
The neighborhood cafe had just opened. Peter went inside and bought a breakfast sandwich and a glass of orange juice to go. Wishing to be alone, he carried his purchase across the street and ate at a picnic table in the small urban park. Now he was able to think a little more clearly.
The summer before, he'd gone camping with the boy next door, his one and only friend, who had moved away soon after. Even though the boy was three years older, they'd developed a bond borne out of mutual isolation - Peter because of his dysfunctional family and sexual orientation, and his friend because of a speech limitation.
Now he thought about that experience. Where was the state park? And what was the name of the town? And the waterfall? It had been the most beautiful place he'd ever seen. Maybe he could go there and think better.
Peter walked a few blocks to the bus depot and bought a ticket.
************
The driver looked at the boy curiously when he got on the bus, and watched in the mirror as he found a seat and placed his suitcase on his lap. Clearly, the kid wasn't used to traveling. He considered getting the security guard to talk with the boy, but he was already late for departure. Closing the door, he set the bus, and the boy's future, in motion.
Peter watched as the bus took him across the river and out of town to the east. He remembered landmarks - an old barn that had intrigued him, a rural gas station with an unusual shape, the small town just before the park. His ticket would take him to the next town. He wondered if he could get off early, but he was afraid to ask.
To his surprise, the bus pulled off in front of the monolith that gave the park its name. Another passenger disembarked with a pack and a hiking stick, thanking the driver for accommodating him. Peter quickly followed the man out of the bus and looked around. He now remembered where the campground was located. He crossed the highway and walked up the road to the campground, and the trailhead.
His suitcase was becoming a burden. He only wanted to go to the waterfall to plan what to do next. Then he'd come back. He stashed the suitcase behind the restroom and headed up the trail.
************
The viewing platform was further above the waterfall than Peter had remembered. He wanted to get closer. He left the platform and started down the hillside, tripping over branches and falling more than once. And becoming angry. Angry at his father, at what he was, at the world that had put him in this situation.
Then he was at the creek. He sat down on a rock, listening to the music of the flowing water, breathing the fresh air, watching the dragonflies as they chased smaller insects. Now, he felt better. He could stay here forever. Maybe he should stay here forever. He walked to the edge of the cliff. His eyes followed the waterfall to the pool so far below. Why should he go back? There was nothing to go back to. He heard a voice behind him.
"Hey, buddy, are you okay?"
When had anyone ever called him buddy, or asked if he was okay? No one had cared at all since his friend moved away. And yet the older boy watching him had asked the question. The boy spoke again.
"What's your name, buddy?"
"Peter."
"I'm Benji. Come on over here and sit on this rock with me, Peter. You must like this waterfall as much as I do. Tell me about how you found it."
They had something in common. Benji liked the waterfall too. Peter turned away from the precipice and sat down by Benji, who reiterated his question.
"How did you find the waterfall?"
"I saw it last year when I was camping with a friend. But just from the platform above. I wanted to get closer to it."
"Is your friend here with you?"
"No, I'm by myself this time."
"How did you get here?"
"On the bus."
Benji struggled to make sense of this. He decided to take another approach.
"It looks like you got yourself scratched up getting down here. Is that how you got the black eye?"
Peter paused for a few moments. How much should he tell Benji? He seemed like a really nice guy. Peter took a deep breath, and a leap of faith.
"My dad hit me. When he kicked me out."
Benji took a leap of logic.
"I'm gay too, Peter."
************
Together, they worked their way up the hill to the platform. It was easy for Benji, but Peter needed help, and the backwoods boy provided it. As they walked down the trail together, Peter opened up. By the time they arrived at the trailhead, Benji knew more about Peter than most people. And he knew what he had to do. Peter pointed to the restroom.
"I left my suitcase over there."
Benji was no longer asking questions - he was making decisions for both of them. And Peter trusted Benji and the decisions.
"Let's get it and walk down to the ranger station. I'll call Mom from there. She'll pick us up."
Benji knew the park ranger, who quickly assessed the situation and let him use the phone in her office. Benji closed the door and called his mom. The conversation took about two minutes, and when it ended, his mom knew the essentials.
Benji's mom arrived quickly. The introductions were brief. Benji sat in the back seat with the suitcase because he knew his mom would want to have a welcoming conversation with Peter.
************
Arriving at home, they went inside where Benji introduced Peter to his dad. The four of them sat down to lunch where the conversation, though centered on Peter, dealt with the less-traumatic aspects of his life. When they were finished, Peter was provided with towels. While Peter took a shower, Benji took his suitcase downstairs to their basement bedroom. Returning, he sat down with his parents at the kitchen table to talk. At first, his dad listened while Benji and his mom had a conversation.
"Good job, Benji."
"Thanks, mom."
"We'll have to notify child protective services."
"They're closed today."
"They have an emergency number."
"We don't have to use it."
His mom paused, and his dad stepped in.
"Your mom and I know Margaret, the social worker for the county. We have to notify her, and she'll have to come talk with Peter. But if he wants to stay here while it's sorted out, she'll make that happen."
Benji had tears in his eyes. "I wanna help him myself."
His mom put her hand over his.
"We know. And we'll do everything we can to give you that opportunity. First, we need to talk with Peter and find out what he wants."
Peter returned from his shower dressed in clean clothes and looking much more relaxed. Benji's dad invited him to join them.
"I'm sure you understand we have to let the right people know you're here."
Peter looked down. "I can't go home."
"We understand. Maybe you have relatives who would be happy to have you live with them."
"What if I don't have any relatives? Where would I live?"
"Where would you want to live, Peter?"
There was no hesitation. "Here, with Benji."
"That's what we want too. Now, I need to call our county social worker. We know her very well, and she's a very good person. She'll do what's best for you."
The call was made. Margaret would be there in an hour. His dad made a suggestion.
"Benji, why don't you take Peter for a short hike. Show him the creek and the big rock where you like to hang out, and whatever else you think of. Just be back here in time to meet with Margaret."
************
Benji found himself excluded from the decision-making process. Margaret arrived and had a private talk with Peter, then a separate conversation with his parents, and finally a conference with all three.
Meanwhile, Benji sat by the creek and thought about all that had happened. He slowly realized there was a hole in his life, one he hadn't known about. He made up his mind that Peter was going to stay, whatever it took.
Finally, he was invited to participate. When he arrived, the five of them sat around the table, and Margaret summarized for all of them.
"Peter, as I've told you, I need to do some research. I'll contact your father, your school, and our office in the city. When I have the information I need, we'll talk again. In the meantime, you can stay here. Benji's parents filled out the paperwork for you to live here permanently if that becomes the best choice. In the meantime, we'll have to wait. Do you understand?"
Peter nodded his head. Margaret turned to Benji.
"Benji, if you don't mind, I'd like to have a conversation with you. From what your parents say, the best place would be by the creek."
************
Sitting on two rocks next to the creek, Benji and Margaret listened to the soothing music of the flowing water for a few moments. They both smiled as a tiger swallowtail paused momentarily on Benji's knee before quickly moving on.
Margaret looked towards Benji with a respect he wasn't used to getting from adults in official positions.
"Benji, do you understand what you accomplished today?"
"Yeah, I think so."
"I want to be sure you know what you did for Peter. You saved his life by offering him friendship. Then you gave him hope by bringing him home where your parents could offer him more. Your parents and I are very proud of you, Benji. If I could, I'd give you a gold medal."
Benji thought for a few moments before replying, and when he did, he had tears in his eyes.
"Thank you for thinking about an award, but I'd rather have a brother than anything else in the world."
Margaret smiled. "I'm going to include that in my report. And I'll do my best to make your dream come true."
************
After dinner, Benji and Peter went downstairs. Peter hung his clothes in his half of the closet, and put the rest in his dresser drawer. Fresh towels were hung on his towel bar, and a new toothbrush was placed in his assigned slot in the holder with his name under it. Benji was doing everything he could think of to make sure Peter knew he belonged.
After Peter had climbed into his half of their queen-sized bed, Benji went back upstairs to talk with his parents. His dad smiled at him.
"It's been quite a day."
"Yeah, it has."
"I can't believe someone would discard their son for being gay."
His mom replied. "Neither can I."
Benji thought back to the retreat, and the discussion about telling your parents you're gay. Were they paving the way like Nick's parents had for him? He took a deep breath.
"I'm glad to hear that, since I'm gay too."
His mom put her hand on his. "We've known that for a while, Benji, Probably longer than you have. We knew you'd get around to telling us eventually. All we want is your happiness."
Tears came to his eyes. He should have had more confidence in his mom and dad. Then he realized it wasn't his parents who'd paved the way. Just by being there, Peter had.
************
During the next two weeks, Peter learned to be a backwoods boy. He went swimming and explored the woods with Benji and their neighbor, Darren. Benji taught him how to find the biggest fish in the creek, how to encourage them to take the hook, and then how to pan-fry them for dinner.
Being the same age, Peter quickly became close friends with Darren and stayed overnight with him frequently. Most importantly, he became a happy boy for the first time in his life. But there still was a cloud hanging overhead - the decision to be made by some insensitive bureaucrat.
Margaret reported that she could find no relatives, and from Benji's perspective, this was a good thing. There were release papers for Peter's father to sign - the only hangup was finding him sober.
************
Then came the big day. Peter was officially placed in foster care with Benji's family. The legal process to terminate his father's parental rights had begun - the first step leading to adoption. As far as Benji was concerned, the technicalities were irrelevant. Make no mistake about it, he and Peter were now brothers.
Margaret came to the house with a pile of papers and a large rectangular package wrapped in brown paper. More papers were signed by Benji's parents. Then Margaret placed the package in the center of the table.
"When my report went to my supervisor, one thing in particular convinced her that Peter belongs here. Please unwrap it, Benji."
Benji unwrapped the package and smiled.
"Thank you, Margaret."
His dad posed a question.
"Where do you want to hang it?"
"Where my brother and I can see it every day."
In the basement bedroom over the bed that he and Peter shared, Benji hung the router-carved wood sign.

Continue reading..

Online Users
There is currently 1 user online 0 Member(s) | 1 Guest(s)

Welcome, Guest
You have to register before you can post on our site.

Username
  

Password
  

Search Forums

(Advanced Search)