Date: Thu, 17 Jan 2008 17:58:26 +0000
From: pinkpanther2@hotmail.co.uk
Subject: 'A Warm April Saturday' chapter 19

All the usual disclaimers apply. If for some reason, you shouldn't be
reading this, then don't, okay? If you do, neither I nor Nifty will be
responsible if the bogey men catch up with you!

Feedback, including constructive criticism, is always welcome and I
always reply to it. So if you have not written before, or if you've not
written for a while, please send your comments to
pinkpanther2@hotmail.co.uk and I'll reply as soon as I can.


                          CHAPTER NINETEEN

Lying  in  bed, thoughts whizzing round my head, like they have  been
most of the night; I don't know how much sleep I've had, but it's not
much. I feel worn out. I flick on the bedside light; it's ten to six.
I'll  have to get up for school in just over an hour. I'm not looking
forward  to it, but I'll have to go. The same question keeps  gnawing
away  at  me.  Why?  Why  did he go? I don't understand  it.  Was  it
something  I  did? How can it have been? I'd have done  anything  for
him.

I guess mum asking him to sell his apartment so that they could buy a
house together was a big part of it, but, like she wasn't supposed to
do  that? That's exactly what I wanted to happen so we'd have had him
with us all the time. Well, he wasn't going to do it so he left.  But
d'you  know  what  really  hurts? He lied to  me;  he  let  me  think
everything was going to be okay when he knew it wasn't. He knew if he
told  me he was going to split up with mum I'd have been upset; tried
to  persuade him to stay. He didn't want to face that so he lied;  he
betrayed me. I thought he was the most wonderful person in the  whole
world; I gave him everything I could and he betrayed me.

I  guess it shouldn't be that much of a surprise. He's been lying  to
mum  all the way along, hasn't he, making her think that he loved her
when  all he really wanted was to fuck my arse. And I helped  him  do
it;  I was so crazy about him I just didn't see it. He moved on  from
Harry  to  me;  now  he's moved on to some other kid.  I  feel  hurt,
betrayed,  angry,  and there's no-one I can talk  to  about  it,  not
really.  There's only a few people know about me and James, and  they
all  live  miles away, except Brad, of course, but I hardly know  the
kid. Somehow I'm going to have to get through this, and I'm going  to
have to do it pretty much on my own. People won't understand why  I'm
so  upset; as far as they know James was just my mum's boyfriend. And
I  can't  tell  them; it'd get back to mum. Then she'd  know  what  a
deceitful little shit I've been.

                            0 o 0 o 0 o 0

"You okay?" Michael asks as we make our usual walk to school.

"Mum and James have split up," I tell him.

"Shit! That bad man! I thought they were going to get married or
something!"

"Yeah; that's what we both thought."

That's another lie I've just told; I knew that was never going to
happen.

"I bet your mum's upset; things a bit rough at home, then?"

"Yeah, a bit." I tell him.

"Sorry, man," he says, shaking his head sadly.

We complete our walk in silence.

                            0 o 0 o 0 o 0

Tutor  group and our first two classes go past in a blur. I'm trying,
but  my concentration's all over the place. Fuck knows what Tom  must
be  thinking. We head out to morning break. Tom needs to  go  to  the
boys' room. I don't go with him; it gives me an excuse to wander  off
on  my  own. I just need a few minutes to try to straighten  my  head
out.  As make my way outside to get some fresh air, Brad comes across
to me.

"You okay, man?" he asks, looking concerned.

Shit!  Is  it  that  obvious? I was wondering whether  I  should  say
anything to Brad. I guess I might as well; I'll burst if I don't talk
to  someone.  We wander round the side of the technology block  where
nobody can hear us.

"Mum and James have split up," I say quietly.

"Oh,  it looked like someone might have been giving you a hard  time.
James, that your mum's boyfriend, yeah?"

"Yeah."

"So  he's  found  himself  another kid to  fuck."  he  says,  more  a
statement than a question.

"Yeah, that's what it seems like."

"So how long were you together?"

"Since last Easter."

"Oh, you had a decent innings then," he says grinning.

What  the  fuck? I can't believe he just said that! Maybe talking  to
him wasn't such a good idea after all.

"That's the way it is with guys like him," he says casually, "most of
them anyway. They get bored. Sounds like you liked him a lot."

"Yeah,  it wasn't just the sex; he helped me with all sorts of stuff,
school work, everything."

"So  was  that how it started, you know, before he started doing  the
other stuff?"

"Yeah."

"And I guess you really liked that, yeah?"

"Oh yeah! I never knew my dad, and mum's always had to work. Nobody's
ever  spent time with me the way he did. He was great fun to be  with
too."

"So when he wanted to get into your underpants, you weren't going  to
say no."

"No, I mean I liked it anyway, but I'd have done anything he wanted."

"So  that's his pack drill, then," Brad says. "Find a single mum with
nice looking kid who really goes for all that attention, and he's  in
business, yeah?"

"Yeah, I guess." I say sadly. "I still don't really understand why he
went  though;  we used to have great times together, seemed  like  he
enjoyed it as much as I did."

"I  bet  he did, especially at the start." Brad says, looking  at  me
intently. "Some guys are into sports cars, yeah? They get one, and to
start  with it's so much fun they love it to bits. But after a  while
they've  done everything it can do; it don't matter how good  it  is,
it's just not exciting any more, so they start to get bored with  it.
Then they start thinking about changing it for something else. That's
all it is; he's traded you in for a new one." He pauses for a moment.
"Any idea what triggered him off, you know, leaving like that?"

"Mum  wanted  him  to sell his apartment so they could  buy  a  house
together."

"Well,  he  was  never  going to do that, was he?"  he  says  gently.
"There's your answer then."

"Yeah;  it's  still hard though. I keep wondering if I did  something
wrong."

"Look, there's something else you need to know about guys like  him,"
he  says quietly. "I've met a few of them, mates of my stepdad, yeah?
One  thing they all go for is fresh meat, a kid nobody's had  before.
The  other  thing  is that they all have an age  that  they  go  for.
There's this one guy, yeah, back when I was ten he went nuts for  me;
won't  even  look  at  me now. A couple of others weren't  interested
then;  they like me like this, but by the time I'm fifteen or sixteen
they won't fancy me either. The only thing you did wrong was to start
growing up."

"But your stepdad's been doing stuff with you for years."

"Yeah,  but that's a bit different; he didn't have a pot to  piss  in
when  he  moved in with us, so he's sort of stuck with me. I know  he
liked me a lot more a couple of years back though."

"Yeah, but it's still weird," I protest. "Last Saturday me and  James
had one of our best times ever."

"Yeah,  well that's sort of like the guy with the sports  car,  yeah?
He's  decided he wants a change, sorted out what he's going to  have,
but  before  he  swaps over he takes the old one out one  last  time,
gives it a real blast, just so he'll remember how good it was."

I hate hearing him describe it like that, it sounds so hard; but what
can I say? He's nailed it hasn't he?

"Tell  you  what," he says, smiling, and talking even quieter,  right
close  to my ear. "In a few years when he's thinking back, he's going
to  say  "I  never met another kid like that Chris; he was  the  best
ever. I must have been stupid to get rid of him the way I did.""

"Thanks Brad," I say quietly.

"No  problem!" he says, still smiling. "I've been round guys like him
for long enough; you get to know how it works."

He's tried so hard to make me feel better; I want to kiss him, but  I
guess  that wouldn't be a good idea right now. The bell goes for  our
next class and we go our separate ways.

                            0 o 0 o 0 o 0

The weekend's hard. The chat with Brad did help; it told me that none
of  this is my fault; it's all down to James. The problem is that  it
doesn't mean I miss him any less. I miss him terribly; I keep  hoping
that  any moment he'll walk through the door and everything  will  be
like  it was. But he won't, and it wouldn't work if he did. So I hang
out with Michael. He tries to be helpful, but he just doesn't get it.
Why  should  he? He hasn't got a clue how close me and  James  really
were, and I can't possibly tell him. I go round to Tom's house to  do
some  work  on  our new science project. It passes the  time  but  my
heart's just not in it. As it goes, Tom seems to understand what  I'm
going  through  much better than Michael does. With  me  and  Michael
having  always  been so close I didn't expect that,  but  Tom's  been
through some shit himself, so I guess it's down to that.

So  Monday rolls round and it's back to school. I pretty well  sleep-
walk my way through it, doing enough to keep my head above water  but
very  little  more.  And  in case you're wondering,  I  haven't  even
thought about sex; I'm just not interested right now. It's the end of
our  tutor group period on Tuesday morning when Mr. Sheridan asks  me
to  stay  behind.  I've  been expecting this;  I'm  going  to  get  a
bollocking for wasting my time these last few days.

"Pull up a chair and sit down," he says quietly.

I do as he says.

"Right, Chris," he asks. "So what's been going on?"

I don't say anything; I really don't know what I can say.

"Christopher"  he  continues gently, "the last few days  you've  been
moping out looking really miserable. Your work's been poor too.  I've
noticed  and so have several of your other teachers. Now that's  just
not  like you. There's clearly a problem and I need to know  what  it
is. And don't worry, whatever you tell me is confidential, as far  as
it  can  be.  I may need to say something to Mr. Birkett, but  that's
it."

I  swallow  hard.  "Mum's split up with her boyfriend,"  I  tell  him
nervously.

"So I guess your mum's pretty upset, yeah?"

"Yeah."  I  pause. I could get away with leaving it there,  but  that
makes  it  sound  like it's down to mum giving me a  hard  time,  and
that's  not  fair. "It's not just that, though, sir," I  say.  "James
helped  me a lot, with school work and all sorts of stuff. Mum always
made  sure I worked hard, but before he came along I never thought  I
was  that  good at anything. After he started helping me I just  got,
well, a lot more confident, I guess."

"So  he helped you to believe in yourself. Well, I can understand why
you're missing him. When did he come on the scene, then?"

"Last Easter."

"Interesting;  the report we had from your junior school  said  you'd
really come on during that last term, so that explains it, I guess."

"Yeah;  he'd  have made a great teacher." I take a  deep  breath.  "I
never  knew  my dad," I say quietly, not even looking at him.  "Mum's
had other boyfriends, but none of them ever took any interest in me."

"Right," he says gently, smiling at me. "Thanks for being so  honest.
All  I  can say is that you need to take the positives out  of  this.
Over  the  last year you've proved to yourself that you can do  well;
you've  done superbly since you've been here. You need to  take  that
forward. And just remember, I'm here if you need someone to talk  to.
I know it's hard right now, but you can come through it, okay?"

"Yes, sir. Thanks."

I'm  on  my  way. There was no bollocking, just Mr. Sheridan  proving
what a great teacher he is. I won't forget that either.

                            0 o 0 o 0 o 0

Things  have  got better the last two days. I still  miss  James,  of
course;  I really missed him last night when I got home from  school,
but somehow I'm starting to get over it. I'm working much better; the
last couple of evenings I've probably worked harder than I ever have,
I  guess it helps to keep my mind off things. Mainly it's for me,  of
course,  but it's for mum too; she seems to be taking it  very  well,
but underneath she has to be hurting. The last thing she needs is  me
losing  the  plot. I'm not sure if I ever will go  and  chat  to  Mr.
Sheridan, but just knowing that he said I could if I needed to;  that
means a lot.

There  is one problem though; I'm getting horny again. Right now  I'm
so horny I daren't even touch myself in case I cum in my boxers. I've
just finished lunch; I make an excuse to the other lads and head  off
to  find  Brad. He's not about. Shit! I can't wait till after  school
`cause it's activities evening and several of the workshops get used,
so  there'll be people about. There's nothing for it; I head straight
to the technology block. I'm pretty careful, just like always, making
sure  nobody's  watching me. I make my way into the building  and  go
straight to the boys' room. Both stalls are empty. There's someone at
the  urinal furthest from the door. He turns as he hears me come  in.
It's  a big, fat, ugly kid; sure, he's got a hard on AND he's playing
with  it,  but  he is gross! There's no way I'd go with him,  however
horny I was.

I  turn and leave, almost in a panic, quickly heading back the way  I
came.  As  I  turn  down  the side of the building  Nathan  Yardley's
walking towards me. I pretend not to notice, but when he's gone  past
and  turned  towards  the door I double back and  follow  him.  After
seeing  him with Anthony, I can't imagine him going with the fat  kid
either.  Very nervously I push open the door of the boys'  room.  The
fat  kid's still where he was; Nathan's at the urinal closest to  the
door, which is sort of at right angles to where the other kid is.  We
grin at each other; I walk straight ahead into one of the stalls  and
allow him to follow me.

In  a  matter of seconds our blazers are hung on the hook behind  the
door  and  our trousers and boxer shorts are down round  are  ankles.
What  happens  next is a shock. There's no build up  at  all;  Nathan
produces  a  tube  of gel and quickly smears it  over  his  cock.  He
positions  me over the toilet just like Anthony was and lubes  me  up
just  as fast. A moment later he spears his big teen cock right  into
me  and starts fucking me senseless. How he knew I'd be able to  take
it  like that I've no idea. Him just stuffing it in like that  was  a
bit  painful,  even  for me; if I hadn't been used  to  it  I'd  have
screamed the place down.

I  guess I shouldn't complain; now he's in there and going for it, it
feels awesome! Fuck! I really needed this! He's holding me round  the
hips. I try to get him to play with my cock but he won't do it. Maybe
he  wants to suck me off after he's cum. I don't think so; once  he's
spunked up my bum he'll be out of here, just like when I saw him with
Anthony. Anyway, I want to cum, and I want it now! So I do it myself.
All it takes is a couple of strokes then the muscle spasms hit. As my
legs  turn  to jelly I grab the toilet seat, balls churning,  my  bum
flaring  and tightening around Nathan's thrusting cock. In  the  next
instant  my  spunk  surges through my dick and spurts  all  over  the
place.  Seems  like that makes him fuck me even harder,  pounding  my
arse  without  missing  a beat. Suddenly he grabs  me  even  tighter,
pulling  me  right onto him. His cock rears up inside me, his  creamy
spunk  flooding over and over into my bum. Wow! That was  an  amazing
fuck! He pauses for maybe five seconds then quickly pulls out. That's
a  bit painful too. I wasn't wrong; before I've even moved from  over
the toilet he's dressed and gone.

It's  the following morning when I see him again, on his own, heading
towards the sixth form study area. I stroll across to him.

"Hi," I say quietly.

"Don't  follow  me," he says coldly. "What I do  in  there  stays  in
there, okay?"

He  strides  away. I'm hurt. Yeah, I guess I'm a bit  sensitive  just
now,  but  even so, I wouldn't have expected that. So  much  for  him
being  Mr.  Wonderful; as far as he's concerned all I am  is  another
cute  little arse to fuck. I was thinking that with him living pretty
close to me, things might have developed, into something, you know, a
bit more, yeah?  Well, it's pretty clear that's not going to happen.

                            0 o 0 o 0 o 0

This  is it; the day I've been waiting for. This morning after  break
me  and Tom get to race each other. It's the year seven cross-country
championship. Each tutor group has to pick six kids to run for  them;
at  the end you add up the positions of the first four finishers from
each  group  and the lowest score wins. Well, with everything  that's
been  going on, I haven't even thought about it. Yeah, I feel  better
than  I did, but I'm not `back to normal' or anything like it.  As  I
start  to  get my kit ready I give myself a mental kick up the  arse.
Even  if  Tom wins it, me and Alwyn should get second and  third  and
Andrew  can probably make the top six. As long as Josh or one of  the
others  runs okay, there's a very good chance we can win it. I'm  not
going to let the other kids down by running like an idiot!

I  sit  on my bed and open the drawer to get my gym shorts. The white
running shorts that James bought for me are lying there. I pick  them
up and look at them. I've never worn them, mainly `cause I'd have had
to  wear them for gym as well; it'd have felt like I was showing  off
or  something. Today's different; I want to show off a bit, you know,
like these shorts say, "yeah, I'm here to run!" I stuff them into  my
bag.

The  changing room is crowded; six boys from each tutor  group  makes
forty  eight of us, rather than the twenty seven we usually have,  so
this  will  be  the biggest race I've been in. It'll be the  toughest
too, and not just `cause Tom's here. All these kids can run a bit  or
they wouldn't have got picked. If I start as slowly as I usually do I
could  get caught right at the back. I'll have to watch that; I don't
want to go mad, just start a bit faster.

Wearing the running shorts means taking my boxers off; not a problem,
I  do it before I take my shirt off so nobody can see. Right next  to
me,  Alwyn's putting running shorts on too, black ones, only he's not
as  coy  as  I was; strips right off then puts them on.  He's  got  a
beautiful  little body! The sewn-in briefs feel a bit odd  at  first,
but  the  shorts are so easy to move in, I guess that's  why  runners
wear  them  like that. We head out onto the field. It's a  fine  day,
with  sort of pale sunshine and just a light breeze, the weather just
starting  to get warmer. It's been dry for a couple of weeks  so  the
course won't be muddy, but it's still soft enough for spikes to go in
easily.  As  I  put  them on I take a look around. Alwyn  isn't  just
wearing  running  shorts, he's wearing a black running  vest  with  a
badge on too. I'm guessing that must be the local athletics club kit,
although he's never mentioned it. Most of the other kids are just  in
their ordinary gym kit. The one kid I do notice is Liam. He's wearing
the  same  kit as Alwyn; he's got spikes on too, looks like he  might
give me a good race.

"Don't  worry about him," Alwyn mutters, "He does high jump, hurdles,
that sort of thing; he's not much good at this."

That's  good to hear. Most of the other kids are chatting.  I'm  not;
this  is  serious business. For the first time ever  I'm  nervous.  I
check  that I've put my spikes on properly; I don't want them working
loose.  I can see Tom prowling around. He's not chatting either,  but
he  never does. As long as I run well he's the one I'll have to beat.
I  follow Alwyn's lead in doing a few stretches and stride-outs, just
getting ourselves loose. We line up; my heart's thumping. The  hooter
sounds and we're away.

With all the adrenalin flowing I have to stop myself bolting off like
a  frightened rabbit. I do start faster than usual though, taking the
first corner in about eighth place. As we make the long run along the
far side of the field I gradually work my way through, getting up  to
the leaders just before we reach the gate. As we head in to the woods
there  are  four  of us together, Tom, Alwyn, Andrew  and  me;  looks
pretty  good for the team race. The pace is fierce, definitely faster
than  we  usually  go.  We  drop Andrew almost  immediately;  another
quarter  mile and Alwyn's gone too, so now it's just me and Tom.  The
pace is relentless. Tom's not used to having company when he runs  in
his  gym class; seems he doesn't like it much. If I try to get  right
onto his shoulder; he pushes on even harder; I settle in right behind
him. We make the turn at the oak tree. This is usually where I try to
get  away; there's no chance of that, I'm struggling just to stay  in
touch.  This hurts! My chest feels like it's on fire. I'm not  giving
it  up  though. We run along the fence, kids are shouting us on  from
the other side. I hear Daryl's voice.

"Go on, Chris! You can do it!"

That's pretty special; I wouldn't have thought he'd be interested. We
approach  the gate, the pace not slackening for a second.  So  what's
going  to  happen  as we cross the field? Can Tom sprint  the  way  I
usually do? I don't know. Will I be able to sprint? I'm not sure.  We
make  the turn, three hundred yards to go. The noise of kids shouting
us  on is intense. I move out a little, somehow managing to get right
onto  Tom's shoulder again. I can hear Mr. Sheridan; he's going nuts,
shouting himself hoarse.

It's like I'm on automatic pilot, running without even thinking about
it.  Yard  by  yard the finish line gets closer, me and  Tom  running
stride  for  stride. Two hundred yards left, one  fifty,  a  hundred,
eighty,  the noise getting louder the nearer we get. Tom's still  got
half  a  yard  on  me. I'm running flat out and my chest's  about  to
explode; how can I possibly sprint? I don't know but I've got to try.
Sixty  yards left, maybe a bit less; I push up onto my toes and drive
for  the line. Everything's a blur; I'm sort of aware of hitting  the
front  and that's about it. I cross the line not really sure  whether
I've  won or not. I move through the finish funnel feeling dizzy  and
light headed. At the far end I'm given a ticket. I look at it through
bleary eyes. It's got the number "1" on it. Fuck! I've done it!  I've
actually  won!  It's the hardest thing I've ever done,  like  nothing
else even comes close.

Once  clear  of  the finish area, I sink down onto my knees,  bending
forwards  so  my  head's almost on the ground, heart thumping,  lungs
burning.  Nothing  can  ever  be as hard  as  that  was!  Slowly  the
dizziness  ebbs away, oxygen getting back to my brain,  my  breathing
starting  to  get easier. I flip over so I'm sitting on  the  ground.
Tom's right there next to me. He extends a hand.

"Well done," he says quietly.

It's  a  very special moment. Mutual respect; we both gave everything
we had, just in the last few strides I was able to find a bit more.

Pretty  soon  everyone's back. Alwyn got third like I expected;  with
Andrew  fifth and Josh eleventh, it looks like we've easily  won  the
team  race. Mr. Sheridan's well happy, like he just won the  lottery.
He  seems happy for me, especially. After the little chat we had last
week,  I  guess he knows how important that was. He's definitely  the
best teacher I've ever had; probably the best I'll ever have.

Mr.  Maynard  bustles across to us; he's ecstatic.  "Fantastic  stuff
lads!" he says showing us the time sheet. "That's the best race we've
had since I've been here!"

I  ran eight fifty six; Tom ran eight fifty seven. Wow! I knew it was
quick  but  I'd never even thought about getting under nine  minutes.
That's  amazing! Alwyn ran nine minutes twelve, which is a  best  for
him too.

"I  doubt  if the year eight kids will run that fast," he  tells  us,
giving me and Tom a gentle pat on the back.

As we head back towards the gym, Daryl comes across to me.

"Well done," he says. "You were amazing. I wish I'd had a camera with
me; you look really beautiful when you're running."

I appreciate that; he really meant it.

The  presentations are right outside the changing room. Winning  both
the  individual  and the team prize; it can't get  much  better  than
that.  We  go back inside to get changed. I'm sticky and  sweaty  and
aching all over. I'm going to have a shower and fuck what anyone else
thinks. I strip off, grab my towel and make my way through. The  warm
water  is  so relaxing, exactly what I need. A few of the other  boys
join me, including Jerome, who looks even more stunning naked than he
usually does. As it goes I pay him no attention; that's not important
right now. Today's been a turning point. I proved something to myself
out  there;  when  it  really matters, I  can  do  it.  Now  that  IS
important.