Date: 30 Jun 1999 14:56:18 -0700
From: dctopman@members.gayweb.com
Subject: Barefoot Boy--Chapter 5

			       Barefoot Boy
		       Chapter 5 - The Laundry Room

I don't think I heard the door bell the first time, at least not
consciously. I remember waking suddenly, almost abruptly, still lying next
to Stevie. We were both naked. Only about an hour earlier I had been
vigorously fucking him and even now cum dripped slowly from his slightly
swollen pussy. I liked thinking of Stevie's asshole as a pussy, a boy
pussy. We had both fallen asleep afterwards.

I slipped off the bed trying not to disturb him. He looked so beautiful
lying there on his belly, his legs still spread wide from our earlier
coupling. The doorbell rang. I hurriedly pulled on my cutoff shorts and
walked toward the living room. Stevie stirring slightly as I walked out of
the bedroom.

I looked through the peephole. It was a woman, young, perhaps late 20's,
maybe early 30's, with short dark-brown hair and eyes just like Stevie's. I
opened the door. The resemblance was remarkable. She looked like a female
version of Stevie. Small, dark, tan, very attractive, even though her hair
was a mess and she looked like she had just crawled out of bed.

"Is Stevie here?" she said. Smoke trailing upwards from a lit cigarette
between her fingers.

I panicked but tried to not let her see it. I couldn't admit to this
person, either Stevie's mother or perhaps an older sister, that Stevie was
sleeping naked in the next room.

"He was here earlier but left", I lied.

"If you see him tell him to get his ass home now," she said rather angrily.

"I'll do that. Are you Stevie's sister?" I said diplomatically.

"Mother," she grunted and then turned and walked away while sucking on her
cigarette.

Closely the door I walked quickly back to the bedroom. Stevie was awake now
sitting upright on the side of the bed.

"That was your mother."

"Yeah, I know. I heard her."

"She sounded angry."

"She always sounds angry," Stevie said while slowly standing up and looking
around the room for his shorts.

"How did she know you were here?" I asked.

I don't know. She probably asked around.

Oh great I thought to myself, all I need is for the whole apartment complex
to know I am sleeping with a 14-year-old kid.

"How old is your mom?" I asked.

"I don't know. I think she is like 30 something."

"You two look a lot alike," I said.

"Oh god, please," Stevie sighed while pulling his shorts up to his waist
and buttoning them.

"No, I meant that as a compliment. I think your mom is attractive."

"Want me to tell her you said that?" Stevie said smiling.

"No, please don't," I said also smiling.

"I'd better get going. Maybe I'll see you later."

"Anytime you want to see me just come by."

Stevie smiled and walked out of the bedroom and toward the front door.

Opening it, he looked at me and with a big smile said, "I really had fun."

"Me too," smiling back.

He walked through the door and closed it behind him. I couldn't help but
wonder if his mother knew Stevie had spent most of the night with me. She
certainly wasn't very friendly toward me. Oh well, even Stevie said she was
grumpy. Maybe it's just her nature.

I walked back into the bedroom to dress and noticed a large wet stain on
the sheet where Stevie had been sitting minutes before. It was cum, my
cum. A puddle of it had dripped out of Stevie's ass. My cock immediately
began getting hard just from thinking about it.

The doorbell rang again. Maybe it was Stevie coming back. I looked through
the peephole. Unbelievably, it was two of the thugs I had seen Stevie
hanging out with. I opened the door.

"Where is Stevie?" the one standing nearest the door asked with a lot of
attitude.

"Who wants to know? I said defiantly.

"Is Stevie the fuck here or not asshole," he said while glaring angrily.

"No, he left." I said while never breaking eye contact.

"Let me give you a little piece of advice, ass wipe. You leave Stevie the
fuck alone or you might just end up getting your ass kicked," he said in as
threatening a tone as I have ever heard anyone use.  "What's going on
between the two of you anyway," he went on.

"Get the fuck away from my door or I'll call the cops shit head," I said
trying to sound equally intimidating.

"Cops ain't going to help you asshole," he said as I closed the door in his
face.

My heart was pounding as I looked through the peephole again to see if they
had left. They had but I could hear them both mumbling obscenities all the
way down the hall.

Oh, this was great. All I needed was to get on the wrong side of some bad
ass gang in the neighborhood. Despite all the bravado at the door, I knew
these guys could hurt me bad if they got a mind to. I decided to take a
shower and head to the campus library to get some studying done.

				 * * * * *

The weather had turned extraordinarily hot.  It was now late afternoon and
the temperature was in the 90's.  There wasn't a cloud in the sky. I had
actually gotten a lot accomplished at the library and felt pretty good.  I
looked forward to getting back to the apartment complex and maybe taking a
dip in the pool. I wondered what kind of a day Stevie had had. I wondered
also if I would see him later. I pulled my car into my assigned parking
spot and got out, hauling a huge armload of books with me.

As I walked through my building's door and into the stairwell, I heard some
commotion coming from the laundry room. I walked over to the closed, steel
door and looked through the small window. I almost dropped what I was
carrying. There was Stevie, naked as the day he was born, standing amongst
maybe five or six older, fully clothed, guys. Two of them were the two that
had visited me earlier.

One of them turned and looked toward the door just as I pulled my head back
away from the window. I waited a few seconds and then carefully
repositioned my head so as to be able to see into the room again.

Stevie was now being bent over one of the dryers. One foot was on the floor
but the other was off the floor. His legs were spread obscenely apart and
one of the guys was rubbing the palm of his whole hand along the crack of
Stevie's ass. As he did so, he fumbled with his belt, buttons, and zipper
with his other hand trying to get his cock out.

One other guy was holding Stevie's head up by his hair.  His face was down
close to Stevie's and he was saying something to him but I couldn't hear
what.  The one playing with Stevie's ass had finally dug his cock out of
his tight jeans.  It was without a doubt one of the biggest cocks I had
ever seen.  I was surprised because the dude sporting it wasn't a big guy
at all.  He was a squat, kind of short but husky guy maybe in his mid-20's.
His cock somehow looked out of proportion to the rest of his body.  Just
about that time the door leading into the building from outside opened and
my friend, Dale, walked into the stairwell.

"Hey Mike, what's happening?" he said.

I said nothing and turned back to look through the small window again. He
immediately realized something was going on and walked toward the door and
also looked through the glass into the laundry room.

"Keep down," I said.

"Holly shit," he said.  "What the hell is going on in there?"

The guy with the big cock was now trying to mount Stevie.  The look of pain
on Stevie's contorted face told me the monster wasn't going in easily.
Twice Stevie tried to scramble away but the one still holding his hair and
another held him down while their friend continue to force his huge cock up
inside him.

"We have got to do something or they'll kill him," I said while never
taking my eyes off what was going on.

Dale backed away from the window and said, "Take my advice, Mike.  Don't
get involved."

"What do you mean don't get involved?"

"These are some bad dudes, man.  They will fuck you up if you mess with
them."

Dale began walking away.

"I can't just pretend I don't see what's going on here," I said while
turning to face Dale.

Looking back through the window, the guy was now fucking Stevie hard while
the others just watched. Stevie's naked back and legs glistened with
sweat. The sound of skin slapping skin could be heard through the closed
door.

"This shit goes on all the time around here," Dale said.  "Don't get
involved."  He walked through the door that led to the first floor hallway
and disappeared.

I turned to look back through the window again. Stevie was biting his
bottom lip with his eyes closed.  The toes of the foot dangling above the
floor were curled over tight.  I could see the smooth cheeks of his ass
ripple with each assaulting thrust.

Suddenly one of the thugs in the room turned and looked right at me. I
pulled back but it was too late. He had seen me. When I looked again he was
headed toward the door. I backed away just as he flung the door open.

"What the fuck are you looking at shit head?" he said very angrily.

"What's going on in…"

Before I could finish, he leaned toward me very threateningly and screamed,
"GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE YOU FUCKING PERVERT!"

I backed away and slowly starting going up the steps to the second
floor. The guy just stood there glaring at me. Another now joined him and
stood at his side. My heart was pounding again. These are some very bad
dudes, I thought to myself. What the hell has Stevie gotten himself into.

				 * * * * *

I paced nervously in my apartment wondering what I should do. I could call
the cops but what would happen to Stevie. What if they found drugs and
Stevie was implicated someway. What a mess this had turned out to be. I
thought back to Dale's comments. He seemed to know a lot about what was
going on. I picked up the phone and dialed Dale's number. His wife
answered.

"Hell-o."

"Wanda, this is Mike. Is Dale around?"

"Hi Mike. Yeah, he is right here. Hold on."

I heard the sound of Wanda setting the phone down and then could vaguely
make out Wanda calling to Dale as she walked away. I waited almost a
minute.

"Mike, he is in the bathroom. Do you want me to have him call you?"

"Yeah, tell him it's really important I talk to him right away."

"Dale told me you two saw that kid in the laundry room again getting gang
banged."

I really didn't want to talk to her about this.  "Yeah, I guess that's what
it was," I said.

"You know he is a little hustler, don't you?"

"Hustler?" sounding annoyed.

"Yeah, you know, he sells his ass to men. A male prostitute."

"He didn't look like he was selling anything to me.  It looked like they
were just taking it.  Dale told me before that you thought he was into
drugs. He's a hustler too?"

"All I know for sure is he hangs out with those hoods all the time and he
is surely up to no good. He's got no supervision at all. His mother doesn't
care what happens to him."

"You know his mother?" I asked.

"I went to high school with her. She was a slut then and she is a slut
now. That's all I know.  I mean I know these are not the best apartments in
the world, but its hell having to put up with this kind of crap right in
your own building.  I want to call the cops but Dale won't let me.  Anyway,
here's Dale…"

I couldn't believe I was listening to this woman rant and rave. Wanda had a
reputation of being the complex's resident busy body. I wondered though how
much of what she said was true.

"Hey Mike," Dale said after taking the phone from his wife.

"You got a couple of minutes?" I asked.

"Sure, what you need?"

"Can you come up to my apartment right away?"

"Now?" Dale inquired.

"Yeah"

"Alright, alright--I'll be right up." Dale said and hung up the phone.

As I hung up my phone I wondered if asking Dale a lot of questions about
Stevie was wise. Dale was straight, as far as I knew. I didn't know whether
or not he suspected I was gay. I certainly don't want him to know I am
having an affair with a 14-year old.

Several minutes passed before my doorbell rang. I walked over and looked
through the peephole. It was Dale. I opened the door.

"What's up?" he said as he walked in.  "Got a beer?"

"There is no time for beer, man.  How can you just pretend there is nothing
going on down in the laundry room right now?"

 I followed Dale into the living room and watched as he flopped down on the
sofa. His legs were spread wide apart. He was wearing shorts, tank top, and
flip-flops. Dale was a nice looking guy and I had many times admired his
physique. At 6 foot, he was a little shorter than I was but more muscular
and certainly more hairy. I had always admired his muscular thighs and ass
and often wondered what it would be like to go down on him.

"What did you mean earlier when we were in the stairwell?"

"What do you mean?" Dale said.

"You said this stuff goes on all the time."

"You mean that kid from across the way you gave your bike to?"

"Yeah, what do you know about him?"

"Hey man, I tried to warn you."

"Warn me about what?"

"Come on, Mike. Don't be so naive. The kid is hooked up the with that 28th
Avenue gang."

"He's too young to be in a gang," I said incredulously.

"Man, kids join gangs now in elementary school. Besides, I'm not sure he is
a member. He is just their joy toy. You know what I mean?"

"Joy toy?"

"You know, they use the kid to suck their cocks and get their rocks off."

"How do you know this?"

"Why do you think the kid always walks around here half naked? They make
him do that."

"I don't think you know what you're talking about, Dale."

"Can I ask a stupid question?" Dale asked.

Before I could answer, he asked anyway.

"What's the kid to you? What's your interest?"

I paused before answering. I had to be careful here. Does Dale suspect
something?

"Nothing. I just like the kid and don't want to see him getting hurt."

Dale smiled and sat back into the sofa.

"What?" I asked.

Dale just kept smiling and said nothing.

"I don't think you know what you're talking about," I said.

"Oh yeah? How do you explain what you saw down in the laundry room thirty
minutes ago?" Dale challenged.

I said nothing.

"Look Mike, it's none of my business but..." He paused.

"What?"  I was beginning to get annoyed.

"Listen Mike, some people around here think you might be gay. Now, all of a
sudden you've developed this big interest in this kid.  What are people
suppose to think?"

"Listen Dale, you and Wanda had better be careful about what rumors you
spread," I said angrily.

"Hey man, don't get pissed. I don't care how you get your rocks off. I'm
just telling you be careful."

Dale placed his hand on my thigh and gently patted it several times.

"I've got nothing against gay people, Mike. In fact, I've had a couple of
encounters myself with guys."

"Encounters?"

"Yeah, I ran into some fags in the service and let them suck me. You know,
how gay guys do."

Was Dale coming onto me? I didn't have time for this right now. I was too
worried about Stevie and what was going on down in the laundry room.

I stood up letting Dale's hand slowly fall from my thigh.

"Thanks for your concern. But, for the record, there is nothing going on
between the kid and I. I just don't want him getting hurt."

"Lets go back down there and find out what's going on then," Dale said.

"I don't know, man. There are a lot of bad dudes in that room. They could
kick our asses for sure."

"Won't be the first time my ass has been kicked," Dale said.

I had to admit he was a brave son of a bitch. Stupid, but brave.

"OK, lets go" I said.


Thanks to all the "Barefoot Boy" fans out there and for the hundreds of
email messages I've received. It really is nice getting so much positive
feedback. Thanks also for all the very good story line suggestions. I am
always happy to receive your comments, good or bad. Please feel free to
forward them to me at dctopman@members.gayweb.com.