Date: Wed, 25 Jul 2012 09:32:22 -0700
From: Douglas DD DD <thehakaanen@hotmail.com>
Subject: The Big Time  Chapter 17

Welcome. Remember this story is mine. Be safe and be 18 or older.
Please donate to Nifty to keep the stories coming.

In this chapter the high school boys find themselves in a classic State
Championship game. The seventh graders get active in their attempt
to improve youth baseball in Mayfield. And Bobby finds himself alone
with somebody he wants nothing to do with.

You can write me at thehakaanen@hotmail.com



State Championship Game Mustang Lineup

1. Jerome-Center Field (Senior)
2.  Eric-Second Base (Junior)
3. Rich-Shortstop (Senior)
4. Marty-Third Base (Senior)
5. Scott-Designated Hitter (Junior) Hitting for Hunter-Left Field
(Junior)
6. Connor-First base (Senior)
7. Kevin-Catcher (Junior)
8. Danny-Right Field (Junior)
9. Rodney-Pitcher (Senior)


CHAPTER 17
THE BARN

Before I talk about the top of the sixth inning of our State
Championship game I want to say a couple of things about home
runs. First, they don't happen much in high school baseball,
especially with the smaller schools like ours. It is a combination of the
players not being that big and the fields being too big for them. That
doesn't mean they don't happen, because as you've seen in our first
State game yesterday, homers can be hit.

Our home field is a little smaller than a pro field, with the distance
down the left field line at 318 feet and 325 down the right field line.
The difference is because of the shape of the space they had to put
our ball field in. Some fields have fences farther away, some, like the
one at Clark Pass are ridiculously small. There are also fields that are
open and don't have fences at all.

Gesa Stadium was bigger than any ball park or field we played in and
is 335 feet up the foul lines and 400 feet to dead center. These are
the dimensions of a typical Major League ball field. For one of us to
hit one out, even up the line, is quite a poke.

Our team had a dozen home runs so far this season. Marty had five
of them, including the one he belted yesterday. Vince had three home
runs while Scott, Carl, Kevin, and Connor each had one.

Anyway, I am saying all of this so you don't think that home runs are
a way of life for Mustang baseball, or for any Class A team for that
matter. But, they are not impossible to hit either. I guess you have
already figured out that a home run ends up being a factor in the sixth
inning, and if you did you're right.

I was the lead off hitter in the sixth and was able to work the pitcher
for a walk on a full count, which, of course, put the leadoff man on for
us. I once heard an announcer for the Mariners say that it seems like
a leadoff walk always comes around to score, except when it doesn't.
Baseball can be very much like a chess match, with one manager
making moves and the other manager trying to guess what moves
that manager is making, while at the same time thinking up his own
moves to make.

 With the count 2-1 on Rich, Coach flashed the hit-and-run sign, and I
was off on the pitch. Only problem was the Logger coach thought
along with Coach Sanders and called for a pitch-out, which is the
pitcher throwing the ball where the batter can't hit it. The result was a
pitch way outside that Rich had no chance of hitting. Even that
wouldn't have been a disaster, but the Logger catcher had a gun for
an arm and nailed me at second on a very close play. While the play
was close, there was no doubt I was out. Rich struck out on the next
pitch and there were now two outs.

That brought Marty to the plate. He was oh-for-two for the game,
having flied to left and grounded out to short. The Loggers obviously
respected Marty's bat as their outfielders backed up a few steps. If I
were the Logger coach and I knew everything there was to know
about our team, I would have pitched around Marty and not given him
any good pitches to hit.

The Logger coach must not have known our team that well, however,
because the pitcher went right after him. I mean it had to be the
coach not knowing the team, because he had shown himself to be
pretty smart when he outthought Coach Sanders on the hit-and-run
play. Not very many coaches got the better of Coach Sanders in the
strategy department.

Marty took a strike on the first pitch. The next pitch was inside
enough just enough to back Marty off the plate. It was a good pitch
designed not to let Marty get too comfortable. He then fouled the next
one off into the left field stands and the count was 1-2. Marty was a
confident hitter and didn't panic when he had two strikes on him. We
were all standing at the dugout railing, ready to see what he would
do. After his comment at the end of the last inning about us having
the Loggers right where we wanted them, we all had a feeling Marty
was going to come through big.

He did not disappoint us, although he did drag things out a little bit.
The next pitch was high as the pitcher went up the ladder trying to
entice Marty to go after a high pitch. Marty had a lot of baseball
smarts, and correctly guessed that the next pitch would be a high
fastball—a pitch even hard for Major leaguers not to chase after and
try to hit.

Marty didn't bite, however, and took it for ball two. The next pitch was
high as well, but not quite as high and Marty fouled it off and stayed
alive. The pitcher then threw a mistake pitch; it came in toward the
outside part of the plate, waist high, and broke in towards the middle,
right where Marty liked it. In other words it was a fat pitch and
definitely a mistake.  Marty, who was obviously locked in, didn't make
a mistake and got all of it.

Everybody heard the bat hit the ball and saw how it took off towards
left. There was not a doubt that the ball was hit hard---the only
question was would it go out of the park? With a triple and a home
run in yesterday's game, there was no doubt in our minds Marty could
hit at this field, and for those who had any doubts they ended as the
ball barely cleared the fence, which was probably 360 feet away at
that point. We all knew better than to leave the dugout since that was
against the rules, but that didn't stop us from high fiving each other as
we watched Marty circle the bases and come around to score. This
was not the arrogant home run trot of a player who thought his shit
didn't stink; this was the quick, professional trot of a player who was
totally confident in himself as a player and as a person. That said we
all knew that deep inside Marty wanted to jam both fists in the air and
prance around the bases.

He broke into a wide smile after he crossed the plate. Once he
crossed home plate we could leave the dugout to high five him, fist
bump him, and just plain touch him. The score was now tied at 2-2
and the noise from our side of the field was loud and happy.

Scott was the next batter up, and he hammered a 1-0 pitch into the
left-field gap for a stand-up double. Connor followed, and he got all of
the first pitch, whacking a line-drive to left, but as the case in
baseball, getting all of a pitch didn't always result in a hit. The Logger
shortstop dove and skidded to the dirt the dirt with a snow-cone,
meaning he barely caught enough of the ball to keep in his glove,
with almost the entire ball showing in the webbing. But all he had to
do was catch it and hold on to it, and that's what he did. Our half of
the inning was over.

Rodney came out to pitch the sixth. He had pitched a long fifth inning
and I thought Coach Sanders might take him out for a new pitcher,
but Rodney was still within his pitch limit, and Coach had nobody
warmed up. He was leaving the sixth inning up to his ace, and
Rodney pitched it like an ace. He had to face the 4-5-6 hitters. He
made short work of the clean-up hitter, the number four man, striking
him out swinging on three pitches. He then got the next batter on a
called third strike when he froze him with a sharp breaking slider on a
2-2 count. The next hitter was the Logger designated hitter, and he
gave Rodney all kinds of trouble, fouling off four 2-2 pitches before
taking ball three. He then fouled off another pitch, but Rodney
prevailed by throwing him a change up that he popped up to Marty at
third.

So, here we were in the State Tournament championship game,
going into the seventh and final inning with the score tied at 2-2. I ran
from my second base position to the dugout thinking that it doesn't
get any better than this.

++++++++++

<The Donkey Stall, Thursday night and Friday morning, July 27th>

 Eric was snuggled up to the Donkey in his big king-size bed. This kid
is a great snuggler, Mike the Donkey thought. He loved good
snugglers and considered snuggling a major strength of his boyfriend,
Ryan the Dawg.

"Do you think we can do it sometime?" Eric asked quietly.

"You mean do the wild thing?" Mike asked, using his favorite
euphemism for fucking.

"Yeah."

"Tonight?"

"No, doing it with Scott in front of you and Dawg was really special. It
was as good as we've ever done it. And if I did it with my Donkey
teacher I want it to be special, too, and if I did it right after Scott and
me doing it, it would just be...I dunno...It wouldn't be special."

"Makes sense to me." He looked at me and said thoughfully, "But I'm
a lot bigger than Scott."

"You two looked about the same size to me," Eric said with a hint of
mischief to his voice.

"As long as you're not belittling the ears, I can handle insults," Mike
said.

"Don't worry, I wasn't talking about the ears." That comment earned
Eric a friendly squeeze of his balls. "But, um...I wasn't thinking of
taking you up my butt."

"You mean you want to fuck me? You want to be the middle school
boy topping the high school Donkey?"

"Yeah," Eric said shyly. "If you don't mind."

"If word got out the Donkey was topped by a seventh grader in his
own bed...well, he would never live it down."

"I guess that's a no."

"Who said word would ever get out?" Mike said. Eric could sense the
Donkey's smile even in the dark room. "Just let me know when."

"Cool. Thanks."

"Would you guys be quiet," Ryan said. "Scott and I are trying to
sleep."

"From all the rustling I heard and felt from over on that side of the
bed, I would say you were trying to do more than sleep."

"We've finished. Just watch out for the puddles of cum on the sheets."
Ryan and Scott had just finished a mutual masturbation session they
had started even before Mike and Eric started talking.

Eric wondered if Mike would do the same for him, but even with his
talk with the junior making him hard, the length of the day caught up
to him, and he zonked out with his head up against the strong chest
of the Donkey. Mike could tell the soon to be twelve year old had
fallen asleep and grinned to himself; it had been a much better night
than he had planned on. We wrapped his arm around Eric's naked
torso and pulled him a little tighter to himself and then fell into his own
slumber.

The sound of Ryan and Scott getting dressed woke Eric up. He was
still snuggled tightly with the Donkey, plus he had a case of morning
wood. He let go of Mike and rolled onto his back.

"Hey, good morning sleepy," Scott said. "Damn, you two were
snuggled close and sleeping hard. The Dawg and I have already
showered and everything."

"Does the everything part mean what I think it means?" Eric asked.

"If you think I had cum in the shower with a high school kid jerking me
off for the second time since I've been here then the answer is yes."

Eric grinned and then noticed the Donkey was now awake. "And
you're getting dressed because?" Mike asked the Dawg.

"Because Scott is going to help me fix a big breakfast for us all, which
we will eat in the house with mom and dad." While Mike's parents
weren't Ryan's parents, he referred to them as his mom and dad
because that was essentially their role in his life. "I'll call you when it's
ready." Ryan and Mike headed down the stairs to the outside door.

"It is very unusual for a Dawg to be an early riser. He must be very
eager to cook breakfast this morning."

"He seems to love to cook," Eric said.

"Very true and mom encourages him. She's been a good teacher for
him. He is a really good cook, even if some of his experiments can
have bad effect on the tummy. But those are rare."

"I gotta get up and pee," Eric said. Since the side of the bed was
against the wall he needed Mike to move, or he would either have to
crawl over Mike, or make his way out of the back of the bed.

"How about we go pee and go shower," Mike said as he pulled away
the sheets. He looked at the side where Ryan and Scott had slept
and said, "Yep, the definitely left some pecker tracks on the sheet.
Guess we'll need to put some fresh ones on."

The two boys walked into the bathroom. Eric, who found himself
getting turned on occasionally by water sports wondered what the
Donkey would think of stepping into the shower and peeing with him
there, but decided that was not the kind of thing a seventh grader
asked a high school junior. It had been hard enough to ask him last
night about topping him.

Mike peed first and then started setting the shower while Eric took his
pee, which had to be done while fighting a boner. "How is it you
twelve year olds are always hard?" Mike asked.

"Don't you get morning wood?"

"Almost all the time, but then there are mornings I don't, like this
morning. Check if the water is okay and we'll shower together." That
was exactly what Eric wanted to hear.

The shower was a stall shower, rather than a tub shower, which Eric
found appropriate for a Donkey. The two of them got in and Mike
closed the door. They took turns getting wet and Eric's dick quickly
returned to a full state of hardness. Eric could see that the Donkey
was dealing with the same issue.

"I wonder if mine will get as big as yours?" Eric asked.

"Bigger. Mine's just a bit bigger than average." Mike was six-and-a-
half inches hard, with a nice nest of pubic hair, a developing treasure
trail, and scattered hairs sprouting on his scrotum.

Mike told Eric to turn around which Eric did. He felt the sixteen year
old's strong arms wrap around his thin body and then felt his left hand
wrap itself around his four inch boner. Eric moaned lightly at the
surprise touch. He was getting the same treatment that Scott had
received from Ryan. He moaned again as Mike stroked his young
boner, the warm water of the shower acting as a lube as Mike stroked
and then twisted his fingers along the sensitive head of the preteen's
cock. Eric almost screamed out from the feelings hitting him. He
could feel Mike's hard dick pushing against his back, rubbing slowly
along his smooth, wet skin. There was no question that the Donkey
was skilled at matters sexual.

But instead of letting Mike continue, Eric pushed the teen's hand
away. "Am I doing something wrong?" Mike asked, afraid he had
offended the young boy by touching him without permission.

"No," Eric croaked as he turned around and got on his knees in front
of the six-footer. He licked the length of Mike's shaft and then moved
his tongue around the head of his circumcised cock. Eric had decided
it was time to pay the Donkey physically for all of the wonderful things
he and Ryan had done for him and Scott. Someday he would have to
pay back the Dawg as well, although he had the idea that Scott had
done a pretty fair job of that.

Mike placed his hands on Eric's shoulders, letting out a long low
moan created by Eric's surprise. It was obvious that he had not
offended the sexy soon to be twelve year old who was on his knees,
slowly working Mike's long, thick, and hard teen cock into his mouth.

Eric knew there was no way he could take all of Mike's dick, but he
was going to take in as much as he could and then start sucking and
licking it. Soon Eric was doing just that, his head moving up and
down, his wet blond hair plastered to his forehead, his body glistening
from the wetness of the cascading shower water. His slurping, the
sounds of the shower, and the moans of the teenager being
pleasured, were the only sounds in the bathroom.

While Mike took pride in his staying power, he also knew how to let
go when it was necessary, and in this case it was necessary. There
was only so much hot water and only so much time before the Dawg
would be calling for them. As Eric's head bobbed up and his lips
came to the top of his dick, Mike held on to Eric's head and started
fucking his mouth. Eric let him have his way, and Mike was careful
not to push too deep. Mike was pleased to experience how Eric knew
to manipulate his tongue along the dick that was fucking his mouth
and how he was able to keep his teeth out of the way of the big
intrusion in his oral cavity.

"Oh, shit, man, I am gonna CUMMMMM hard!" the Donkey
announced loudly and then he followed through as he spurted wave
after wave of hot, thick teen cum into Eric's mouth. The preteen
swallowed madly, but he couldn't contain it all and he had to let a lot
of it run down his wet chin or run the risk of it coming back up his
nose. Eric was amazed as the Donkey held his head and kept fucking
his mouth as his dick kept spurting out its load.

Eric was so turned on by the Donkey's cumming and by his cum that
his body shook as he enjoyed a violent no-touch cum, his light cum
mixing with the water from the shower head. Eric marveled at his
enjoying a cum from giving a blow job rather than receiving one. I
really, truly, must be gay to enjoy sucking a cock like that. Finally,
Mike gently pushed Eric's head away and he pulled his cock out of
Eric's mouth.

"Oh my gawd, that was an all-time great blow job," Mike said. "They
really do teach you guys good stuff in middle-school these days. Let
me tell you, my knees are still shaking that was so good. And it would
appear that you liked it quite a bit, too."

Eric grinned with pleasure as a little more cum ran down his chin. He
swallowed some of the remains. The water pouring out of the shower
soon cleaned off Eric's face.

"I know you just shot your wad, but can I get you off?" Mike asked.
"When I was twelve I could almost cum forever, and I would love
having that fine specimen between your legs in my mouth.

"The water is cooling off," Eric said, "we better get out," which didn't
exactly answer Mike's question.

The boys stepped out of the shower. After turning off the water, Mike
and Eric dried each other. Mike saw that Eric's cock had already
recharged and was hard again.  As they entered the big bedroom he
told Eric to sit on the bed, which Eric did. He sat in anticipation as this
time Mike got on his knees and placed the sweet young boner of the
seventh grader into his mouth. Mike was able to take it all in; getting
his mouth right down to the eleven year old's smooth pubic area.
Between Mike jerking him off some and his excitement from sucking
the high schooler, it didn't take long for him to emit a soprano groan
and shoot his clear young cum into the mouth of the waiting Donkey.
Because he had just cum, Eric only shot a couple of drops, but it was
enough for the Donkey.  Mike swallowed it eagerly, savoring the
taste. It had been a long time since he had tasted the sweetness of
preteen cum and he enjoyed every drop that he could.

"Well, that was a wee bit of pre-breakfast fun," Mike said as he and
Eric finally started getting dressed. "I am looking forward to being
topped by you."

"For real? You'll really let me do it?"

"I said so last night, didn't I?"

"Yeah."

"Well then you must remember that Donkeys are very much like
Vulcans in Star Trek. Not only are they are full of special logic, but
more important, you should remember that Donkeys never lie."

Just as they finished dressing, Mike's phone rang. It was the Dawg
letting them know that it was time for breakfast.

Ryan, with the help of his mom and Scott, had prepared a sumptuous
feast of scrambled eggs, bacon, toast, and pancakes. The boys ate
heartily as Eric explained to Mike and Ryan about the meeting he had
scheduled that afternoon with members of his sponsorship committee
for the Go to State group.

"Sounds like quite the club. I think you guys are going to really end up
kicking ass the way you're putting all this work in already. It won't be
in time for the Donkey and the Dawg, though," said Mike, who was
duly impressed.

"You guys will do okay," Scott said.

"Yeah, that's it, just okay. We should make the league playoffs, but
we won't be good enough for much more. The old days of Mayfield
baseball are gone, but I think you guys might help bring them back,"
Mike told them.

"Finding some new coaches would help," Ryan said. "Coach Collins
is an okay guy and all and he knows baseball backwards and
forwards, but he just doesn't put in as much time as he needs to win.
Everybody knows it, and the jocks are getting more and more
involved in other sports instead of baseball. Plus, he just lets
everybody get away with stuff and we don't play with good discipline.
And Coach Gardner, the JV coach, is a bit of a jerk and doesn't know
as much about baseball as he thinks he does."

"But you've got a good group," Mike said. "I've watched you play and
I know about a lot of the kids. I think you're going to be successful if
you keep on working at it."

After breakfast Eric and Scott thanked their two high school friends
and gathered up their stuff, including their unused sleeping bags, and
walked back to Eric's house. In a couple of hours Eric would be
meeting with the sponsorship committee. The time to get serious and
talk to people about money was getting close.

<Seventh grade, Eric's house---Friday afternoon>

Eric and Scott set out snacks and soft drinks in the kitchen and
waited for the members of the sponsorship committee of the Go to
State group to arrive. He could never figure out if they were a club or
a group or whatever, but it was something they might have to decide
at their next full meeting.

As Scott helped Eric set everything out, they talked about what
happened at the Donkey's the night before as well as that morning.

"I didn't think I could handle fucking in front of somebody like we did,"
Scott said, "but I kinda ended up forgetting they were even there."

"Yeah, me too. And you had Ryan jerk you off twice, last night and
this morning?"

"That was fun. He knows how to make a guy's dick feel good with his
hands. How come you and the Donkey didn't get off last night?"

"We just got to talking and even though I was horny I just fell asleep.
It's weird because I usually can't sleep when I'm horny like that."

"Me too, which is why I was happy the Dawg and I jerked each other
off. But I can't believe you gave the Donkey a blow job in the shower
and then he gave you one back. That's sounds even more awesome
then getting jerked off twice."

Eric gave Scott a concerned look and said, "You know, we still have
to do it in front of your sister."

"We don't really have to. I've been putting her off and I can keep
putting her off."

"Well, we did promise, and I just have a feeling it's gonna happen."

Scott nodded and said, "And I do not look forward to it. We must have
been on drugs or something to promise that."

Their conversation was interrupted by the doorbell. It was Noah and
Bobby, who weren't on the sponsorship committee, but were coming
because they were interested. Eric accused them of coming for the
Doritos. They made no effort to dispute that accusation.

The next two to show up were Jerome and Connor, who rode up
together on their bikes and dove right into the snacks. Then Danny
showed up with Hunter. Hunter wasn't on the committee, but like
Noah and Bobby he showed up because he was interested. His
biggest interest was on how the committee would handle asking his
dad to be a sponsor, which he was against. Rich, who was the
committee chair, showed up with a notebook that had the ideas his
committee had come up with in their meetings. Finally the twins
showed up; Kraig was on the committee while Kevin showed up
because, well because they always seemed to be together.

The meeting ended up being very productive, the only negative part
being Hunter once again strenuously objecting to his father being
asked to be a sponsor.

"Look, Hunter," Eric explained patiently, "we can't go making
decisions because you don't get along with your dad. This is a team
thing. Sometimes being part of team isn't easy."

"Then maybe I don't want to be part of this team," Hunter said with a
hint of anger. It was a normal response from a middle school aged
boy.

"That's your decision. We want you Hunter, you're our friend, but we
need to make our decisions on what is best for our team."

"Well, in this case what you think is best for your team just might not
be the best thing." He looked around the room and seeing no
sympathetic faces he got up out of his chair. "I'm gonna go."

As he headed for the living room and the front door Kraig got up to
follow, hoping that he could, for once, talk some sense into his friend.
Hunter stopped and glared at him. "You got nothing to say to me," he
barked, then turned and walked out the front door, thankfully not
slamming it too hard.

"He's as touchy as Marty," Rich said.

"What's the deal with those two?" Connor asked, referring to Hunter
and Marty. His asking the question was somewhat ironic since he
certainly wasn't known for his even temperament.

"It's called puberty," Noah said.

"Like you know anything about being in puberty," Connor countered,
which led to a lot of laughter as Noah blushed. But they all knew that
Noah was right, although Rich threw a curveball into the mix.

"Marty's big problem is that he's drunk all the time," Rich said.

"Yeah, I've heard the same thing," Jerome said, "though nobody ever
sees him enough to really know. But I know he's showed up to at
least one of our games this summer with beer on his breath and more
than one with a hangover."

"And we won't even go into Steve's party," Connor said. The boys
talked about Marty with a great deal of concern for a couple more
minutes before moving on. They all agreed that the change in his
personality over the summer had been dramatic, and they all felt
sympathy for Rich and the apparent loss of a friend.

The committee had already talked to Seth, the group's advisor, about
setting up appointments with prospective sponsors. The big ones
they wanted to talk to were Champion Sporting Goods (Hunter's dad),
Larry's Hardware, Bob's Burger Barn, Pooh Bear's Pizza, Centralia
and Clark Pass Railroad, the Mayfield Grocery, and Seth himself,
with them asking about his trucking company being a sponsor.

"Why didn't you just ask him to start with instead of all this advisor
shit?" Connor asked.

"Because Noah clued me in about how his dad works," Eric replied.
"He wanted us to do things for ourselves instead of dropping it all on
an adult. And that's what we wanted, too."

"Which is why we won't ask him until last," Rich said.

"Whatever, sounds like a lot of extra work to me." While Connor could
get on their nerves with his being constantly contrary, they also
listened to him, because sometimes his complaints actually had
merit. This was not one of those times.

Seth had told them that he was taking next week off for vacation
since he was leaving on a trip with his family on Thursday, so he was
available Monday or Tuesday to join them for their meetings with
prospective sponsors. The boys knew that meeting with the
prospective sponsors before school started worked best for them
because they could meet during the day at the businesses. It was
decided that Rich, Jerome, Kraig, and Eric would constitute the group
to meet with the businessmen.

Rich said he would call the businesses to set up appointments and
would get back to them about the times. The Go to State group was
definitely on the move.

With the weather being nice, everybody cleared out of Eric's house in
a hurry, hoping to get some swimming time in at the community pool.
Only Scott, Noah, and Bobby were left. Eric asked them if they
wanted to hang around and spend the night. He knew Scott was
going to stay. Noah said he would call for permission, which he knew
he would get.

"I can't stay," Bobby said dejectedly. "Since I'm going to be gone with
Noah the next two weekends my mom says I gotta stay home this
weekend, which is really lame because all she's gonna do is get
drunk with Lenny and maybe some of his friends while I got nothing
to do but be bored."

"What about your brother?" Scott asked.

"He's gonna be with a friend on Friday," Bobby didn't say that the
friend was his brother Tyler's English teacher. He had told Noah who
it was. "That pisses me off that he gets to be gone every weekend,
but mom says it's because he's older, whatever that means."

"What about Duke?" Noah asked. "Is he going to be there?"

"Mom says she won't let him come if he's in town, which is a lie
because she can't stop him."

"Well, if he shows up, just leave," Eric said. He knew about the issues
Bobby had had home. Noah, Eric, and Scott were the only ones to
fully know what Bobby was going through.

"I'll ride home with you," Noah said.

Bobby grinned, happy with Noah's offer. "I'll be back in a bit after I get
Bobby home and stop and get my stuff for tonight." The boys grabbed
their helmets and went out the front door. Eric was in a great mood.
The Go to State meeting had been a big success, even with Hunter's
blowup, and Noah would be spending the night. Bobby's problems
put a big of a damper on things, but not enough to ruin what should
end up being a great evening and weekend. Adding to his good mood
was the fact that his twelvth birthday was a week away.

<Seventh grade, Bobby's Trailer---Friday night>

Bobby sat on the couch of the doublewide watching television. Even
with the door and all of the windows open the room was stifling. The
fan at the door didn't help much at all. He was wearing nothing but a
pair of blue briefs and was sitting alone. His hand was in his briefs
and he was idly playing with his little cock, keeping his briefs on in
case somebody came into the trailer. His mother had called to say
she had to work late at the store because the closer had called off
sick and she wouldn't be home until close to eleven. She turned a
deaf ear to his begging to go to Eric's house since he was going to be
home alone.

The eleven year old was angry at his mother and at the world in
general. Sure, everybody said life was unfair, he thought, but this was
beyond unfair. He wished he had asked Noah to spend the night at
the trailer, but he was too embarrassed by the things that went on
there and couldn't bring himself to do it.  If only he could find a way to
become part of Noah's family. He was becoming too angry to start
seriously jerking off, so he stopped playing with himself, letting his
dick soften in his hand.

He looked at the refrigerator, his anger welling up even more in him.
Maybe his mother and her friends were right about him drinking beer
with them. Maybe Tyler had been right when Lenny and Duke gave
him booze and he drank it. Maybe drinking alcohol was the thing to
do. Maybe it would make him not hurt as much inside and let him
forget about his shitty life.

He got up off the couch and opened the fridge and looked at the rows
of beer cans stacked at the bottom. For the first time he thought he
might be looking at alcohol as a solution to his problems rather than
the source of his problems. He bent down and felt one of the cold
cans. He'd tasted beer, it was hard not to in this place, and he had
hated every drop of it. But this was different; he might actually like it if
it was something he really wanted to drink.

He pulled the can out of the plastic ring, his heart thumping hard as
he realized what he was about to do. He yanked the top off of the can
and put it to his lips, the pungent smell of the beer hitting his nose,
but the hesitated for a moment before taking what he knew would be
more than a little sip. He was ready to gulp it down fast. He knew
nobody in his life would care of he got drunk, not even Tyler. In fact
all of the adults around him had been encouraging him to get drunk,
although in his mother's case it was more an issue of her not
discouraging him.

The thing that caused him to hesitate was Noah. He knew Noah
cared whether or not he opened that can and drained it. He knew in
his eleven year old heart that Noah loved him unconditionally and
would still love him even if he drank the beer. But he also knew in that
same heart that he could not let down his friend. The voice in his
head then said to him, You have nothing in your life that is good. Your
mom doesn't care about you, your brother has abandoned you, you
live in a dump of a trailer, and you live in fear of Lenny and Duke and
their friends. Drink the beer and it will all be better.

But he heard Noah's gentle voice more clearly, telling him that when
nothing looked like it was going right and life looked like it was the
shits, that was the time he should think about something good in his
life. There is nothing good in my life, he thought,
nothing...nothing...nothing except Noah. If I drink this beer Noah
won't hate me, but I will have let down the best thing there is in my
life. He took the beer to the sink and started pouring the contents
down the drain.

He heard somebody come up the steps and into the trailer. He knew
it wasn't his mother, he hoped it was Tyler, but figured it was Lenny.
Instead it was the person who made him wish right he was drunk out
of his mind and that was Duke, the person he hated the most of
anybody in his life. Bobby quickly ascertained that Duke was drunk,
which didn't surprise him. He couldn't remember seeing Duke sober
at night. He dropped the beer can into the sink, hoping that Duke
wouldn't see it.

"Well, what to we have here? Looks like a boy wearing a queer pair of
blue underpants and nothin' more. Ya'all must've been waiting for
Duke to come have some fun with you. Fuck, boy you look so sexy
for Duke."

"What are you doing here? Mom told you not to come back here any
more." Bobby knew his high pitched voice sounded weak and lame
compared to the gravelly baritone of the big man in front of him.

"That bitch don't run my life, so here I am." It was then that Duke
noticed the beer can in the sink. "What the fuck, boy, you drinking
beer now? You ready to get drunk with Duke and do the hoochie
koochie?"

Duke was now just a few steps away from Bobby, who was becoming
increasingly frightened. He had never been alone with the man
before. It was scary enough for the boy to be around him when there
were other people in the trailer acting as some kind of interference.
"The can was left open by somebody; I was just pouring it down the
sink. It was...warm, I think."

"Shame to waste good beer." As Duke opened the refrigerator with
his back to Bobby and pulled out two cans of beer, Bobby scooted
out of the kitchen and headed to his bedroom. He knew he couldn't
stay and was hoping to at least grab his pants and shoes and get
away from the trailer.

"Hey boy, where do you think you're going?" Duke came after Bobby,
still holding the beer cans, entering the room as Bobby grabbed his
hoodie, which was on the end of his bed. "Oh, you inviting Duke in for
some fun? Come on boy, we use your mom's bed, more room there. I
want to try out that ass of yours. I bet it's tighter than either of those
little bitches I fuck at home." Duke offered one of the beers to Bobby,
which he took, hoping it would help give him an opening to get away
from Duke.

Duke took another step toward the boy, who had nowhere to move.
He grabbed the Bobby's briefs and yanked them down, even as the
boy tried to hold them up. Both of them could hear a ripping sound as
part of the cloth ripped from the waistband. Duke got them pulled
halfway down Bobby's thighs, exposing his soft hairless genitals. He
put his hand around the eleven year old's dick and balls, groping and
manipulating them. Bobby felt like he wanted to throw up.

Duke kept his hand on Bobby's cock and balls and looked down at
the little redhead. Bobby could smell the alcohol on the man's breath.
"Take those faggy underpants off and git yerself naked and come on
back to the big bed with me. Guzzle yourself that beer and get ready
for a fucking like you never had it before."

Bobby had been in this spot before, just a couple of weeks ago, when
Duke came in and discovered him naked in bed with his niece, Missy.
But that time he'd found an escape; this time it did not look quite as
promising. Duke finally let go of Bobby's genitals and unbuckled his
jeans, pulling them off along with a dirty old pair of boxers. He now
stood naked from the waist down in front of the almost naked young
boy, with a large hairy boner poking straight out from him. Bobby
couldn't see any way out this time.  But then nature gave him the
break he was looking for.

"Damn, I gotta piss...fucking beer. You get those faggy underpants
off and meet Duke on the bed. I can tell you want it, I just gotta make
you hard." He gave Bobby another quick grope. "Guzzle that fucking
beer and get us two more before you do." Duke guzzled his beer and
crushed the can in his hand. "Come on boy, drink it! Show Duke what
kind of a man you are."

Bobby didn't want to touch the contents of the can. He knew he
needed all of his wits right now. "I'll get more beer and then drink
them back to back and show you I'm a man," Bobby offered.

After his easy time seducing his pubescent niece and her friend at
home, Duke was convinced of his appeal to the young kids and was
certain that Bobby was dying to go to bed with him. The fact that
Bobby's cock was a little shriveled up thing and hadn't responded to
his groping hadn't even register with him, perhaps because he was
almost hopelessly drunk. Duke yanked his pants fully off and then
staggered across the hall to the bathroom. Bobby threw the can of
beer down on the floor and grabbed his shoes from under his bed. He
could hear the flow of Duke's piss into the toilet.

He passed up grabbing a pair of pants because he wanted to get out
of the room before he was trapped in it yet again. His shorts were on
the floor of the living room and he could grab them on the way out.
He never got the chance, however, as he heard Duke stumble out to
the hall without having flushed the toilet.

"Hey ,boy, where the fuck you think yer goin? The bedroom's the
other way." Duke stepped out into the corridor, half blocking the boy's
exit from his room. Bobby didn't hesitate in instant. He powered his
right leg up and planted his right knee firmly into Duke's balls. Even
without a lot of force behind the kick Duke's naked balls were
exposed, so Bobby's kick got the desired effect as he dashed around
Duke who doubled up in pain. For the second time in a month he was
scurrying out the door half-naked to escape the clutches of Duke.

There was still a little bit of light in the evening sky, allowing him to
see well enough to grab his bike from the side of the shed. He got on
it, desperately clutching his hoodie and his shoes. He peddled away
as Duke stood in front of the trailer wearing only his grungy t-shirt
screaming obscenities and telling Bobby that he was a dead boy
when he returned.

Bobby knew that before Duke could follow him he would need to
recover from the kick, and then he'd have to put on his pants and get
his keys. Once again he figured Duke would think he was going into
town, which is the direction he would have gone if he had pants, so
he was probably safe to go back to the barn he had slept in before. In
any case, he didn't want to be riding around town wearing only a
hoodie and a pair of torn briefs.

He took a chance and stopped peddling, slipped on his shoes,
leaving them untied, and yanked his hoodie over himself. The
temperature was still in the upper sixties on the warm summer
evening, but he didn't want to be seen by a passing car wearing just
his briefs which were torn down the right side.

Bobby found the dirt driveway that led to the back of the farm and to
the barn. He peddled up the rough, pothole strewn path, and got to
the barn. It had not been easy to do in the dark. The horses got
restless as he entered the barn. He parked his bike at the far end,
and then felt for the ladder that went up to the loft. He found it and
climbed up the rungs, careful not to lose his grip or his step in the
gloom. Once again he found a soft flat spot to lie down in.

Bobby found an old horse blanket hanging on a wall, covered himself
with it, and cried himself to sleep.

Next: Safe at Home