Date: Wed, 8 Jun 2016 09:28:11 -0500
From: Nicholas Hall <nick.hall8440@gmail.com>
Subject: Jamie's Gift- Part One
Jamie's Gift
By
Nicholas Hall
Jamie's Gift ? 2016 is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and
incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used
fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or
locales is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or
transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical,
including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and
retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author.
The Literary works of Nicholas Hall are protected by the copyright laws of
the United States of America and are the property of the author.
Part One
Chapter One
"Outlined against a blue-grey October sky, the Four Horsemen rode again. In
dramatic lore they were known as Famine, Pestilence, Destruction, and
Death. These are only aliases. Their real names are ??"
(Grantland Rice)
The Four Horsemen of Ham Hocks High
He was a comely boy, beckoning in appearance, alluring at first and second
glance; a magnificent male of our age and stature, perhaps an inch or two
shorter than me, with not an ounce of fat adorning his slim body; almost
pulchritudinous one might say with a face one would think leaning toward,
what I thought, handsome, depending on personal choice and definition, but
not round, not long, but of fine features, displaying a seeming innocence;
dark hair, very light olive skin tone, and hazel eyes, ordinarily bright
and shining I would imagine; eyes now full to overflowing with sadness and
fright, threatening to cascade down his cheeks, slipping past his nose to
his now quivering soft lips and delicate chin, dampening his spirit and our
light, locker room banter! I thought he was beautiful in his own special
way and I was saddened and angry over what had just happened! All of this
tumult brought on by an unkind remark by an unthinking and, at the moment,
inconsiderate boy in our physical education class!
He continued to stand there, new gym bag in his hands, clutching it close
to his chest, whether from fear of losing it or for security and comfort I
knew not, shivering all over; scared shitless, fearful to enter the locker
room after the verbal attack on his very self! God, I'd hate to be the new
kid in school, especially him! My heart was beginning to be rend asunder
watching him, suffering with him in this new and terrifying place!
I'd never been the "new kid" in school; I'd gone to school here at Hamilton
Laboratory School since I started kindergarten. Hamilton is a k-12 school
located on the campus of Central State University at Jefferson used for the
purpose, originally, of preparing young men and women for the teaching
profession by giving them a place to "student" teach as a final step before
graduation, although CSU-Jefferson offers varied and diverse programs of
studies in many other areas, and receiving a teaching license. The eight
hundred plus students enrolled in Hamilton always had at least two,
sometimes four, student teachers in each grade during the school year in
addition to their regular classroom teacher.
Hamilton provided the opportunity, under the guidance and supervision of
very experienced and highly educated (most had their PhD's) instructors,
for prospective teachers to practice and refine those skills learned in
their content majors and education courses through actual classroom
experience. It was difficult enough to motivate ordinary students, but the
kids in our school were used to student teachers, so it really took skill
and insight, along with a ton of patience sometimes, to cause us to react
to their stimulation. Many of us were very self-motivated and came from
highly educated families. It didn't take us long to sort out who could cut
it and who couldn't when it came to classroom performance. I suppose we
were helpful in assisting the supervising teacher who would be successful
and who wouldn't. Not all student teachers were successful, but that was
the beauty of the lab school; it weeded out those not suited or have the
talent and skills to be a teacher!
My mother, an elementary special education teacher at Parkside Elementary
School, a public school downtown, said it takes a special person to be able
to teach. Not only does it involve diagnosing and remediating learning
problems young people have, but knowing how to love and understand each
child and their special differences so you can better motivate each one to
learn at their own special rate and in their own unique way. I really
thought she was right, since our own school had such a wide differences of
abilities and talents.
Hamilton Lab School students come from a small attendance area, by special
arrangement with the City of Jefferson school district, in and around the
university. Its student population is a mix of university professor's
kids, university staff personnel's kids, married student's children, and
anyone else living in the attendance area. Thus, the students were from
blue collar families, professional people, day laborers, university
families, and everything in between. We had a diverse racial population as
well as sexual preferences and identities, religious beliefs, and political
affiliations, due to the very nature of the university, and were quite
liberal to say the least!
Since many of the students came from homes of university personnel and
professional people, such as lawyers, doctors, and others, who preferred to
live close to the university for its cultural and educational
opportunities, we also had some pretty damned smart kids attending
Hamilton. Fortunately or unfortunately, depending on how you view it, I
was one of them! The guys I hung around with weren't forty watt light bulbs
either; all three of them were fucking bright!
The four of us started kindergarten together and became friends. Scotty
McFadden's dad, Dr. Ronald McFadden, is the University's Bursar. In case
you're wondering what a "bursar" is, he's kind of like the treasurer; he
handles all of the accounting and dollars that go in and go out of the
University. Derrick Gray's dad, Dr. Adam Gray, is Dean of Instruction and
technically is my dad's boss. They live in a nice house on campus provided
by the University. Christopher Fischer's dad, Dr. Thomas Fischer, is the
Art Department Head and Professor of Art. My dad, Dr. Carlton Whitfield,
is Professor of History and Department Head.
Since I'm Carlton Whitfield, Jr., I'm called "Whit" which sounds great to
me! Not that I'm hilariously funny, but it does distinguish me from my
father.
All the way through HES (Hamilton Elementary School) and HMS (Hamilton
Middle School) we were almost inseparable; well, there were times when we
had different classes or family vacations when we weren't together, but
otherwise we spent a lot of time together; sleepovers, camping trips,
messing around downtown, swimming, and that kind of stuff. My dad often
said what one couldn't think of, the other three did! Do you think we were
close friends? Couldn't get any closer!
We were entering our first year at HHS (Hamilton High School), irreverently
referred to as "Ham Hocks High" by some of our rivals, and we were looking
forward to it. It was another adventure in our lives! Not only were we
looking forward to the classes (god, we are such nerds) and activities that
go with high school, but most of all, cross country track! Ha! You thought
we were going to be anti-jock and not one bit interested in athletics!
Well, we're not really interested in all athletics, just cross country
track; don't really give a shit about anything else. Well, again that's
not entirely correct; I enjoy watching swimming and wrestling; especially
watching what wobbles around under the singlets or wiggles in the speedos!
We don't have football at our school so I can't fantasize what a
"tight-end" might be or look like from the back.
The four of us had been on the Middle School Cross Country team and now
hoped to be on the High School Freshman Cross Country team. Really, there
was no chance we wouldn't be on it since everyone who went out was
automatically put on the team, which was great since it gave anyone and
everyone a chance to try something out and see if it was a fit for them. We
figured we had a chance to do well since the physical education instructor,
Dr. Jim Schroeder, was also the cross country coach which, we figured, was
the reason the four of us were in the same phys. Ed. class- the last period
of the day. Having it the last period meant we didn't have shower, go back
to class, come back and put on our running shorts, run, and shower again.
It was great. We saw ourselves as a "lean, mean, running machine - the
Four Horseman of Hamilton High!"
How did all of this get started? The four of us were having a sleep over at
Derrick Gray's house early in September the year we entered fifth grade. It
was a warm night, around midnight as I remember, and we'd just finished
watching the movie on cable where the girl shouts out "Run Forrest run!"
when all of a sudden, Scotty McFadden jumped up, clad only in his white
Fruit of the Looms? briefs, and shouts "Run you assholes, run!" and we did!
Up the stairs from the family room, out the back door of the Dean's
Residence, and across campus with Scotty leading the way! Derrick, wearing
his red knit boxer briefs, Chris in his grey knit ones, and me, the odd one
I know, in my bright blue string bikinis, raced across campus, did a once
around of the Union (pretty quiet since it was midnight), following Scotty
as he led us right into one of the women's residence halls.
How were we to know some of the girls in the dorm walked around dressed
only in their panties or bras or even less? Lord almighty, there were
screams a plenty, laughter, shouts of joy and hilarity at the sight of four
pint-sized, almost naked boys wearing only their underwear, dashing through
the dorm, our little front packages barely discernable while our pert, firm
little butts jiggled as we ran (mine did at least, I thought)! Up the
stairs, through the second floor hall, and down the stairs amid more
shouts, whistles, and offers for us to spend the night!
All went well until we exited the residence hall through the front entrance
and ran into (literally) a campus cop making his rounds! Scotty was the
first to run into the poor guy and knocked him down; Derrick managed to
step on his stomach as he ran over him; Chris just jumped over the prone
shouting body; and me, I managed to trip on him, but recovered quickly and
kept running.
The prone cop shouted out "Somebody stop those boys!" and someone did! A
half dozen college boys, on the way back from downtown (where they'd been
drinking by the smell of the guy that grabbed me) waylaid us and held us
captive until backup was summoned for the poor guy we'd trampled. The young
man that held me, clasp me around the waist, and while we waited, slipped a
hand down the front of my underwear, whispered "Shhh" in my ear, and began
fondling my peanut-sized balls and little sprig of a cock! It wasn't
twenty seconds until I was fully hard - all three inches of me! I could
feel his stiff man-sized cock, held tight inside his jeans, pressed up
against my ass crack, rubbing up and down in his own pleasured excitement,
but he had to let me go once the other cops got there - darn it! Another
minute or two and I'd have bet he'd had it out, my underwear down, and
shoving that thick piece up my poop-chute! I learned several things that
night; one, I loved to run; two, having someone play with my cock was
great; and three, Thomas Jefferson was wrong, all men are not created
equal. I also came to the realization and confirmation of what I thought I
already knew, I was gay - liked boys more than girls and I was just fine
with that!
Once the campus police found out who we were and where we were staying,
they loaded us up in one of the campus squad cars instead of walking us
back to the Dean's Residence and turning us over to Derrick's dad. No, they
hauled us down to the residence of the Chief of Campus Security, Art Kraft,
where we had to wait, clad only in our underwear understand, until our
parents were roused to come get us. The poor cop we'd trampled on told Dean
Kraft we looked and sounded like the "Four Horseman of the Apocalypse"
coming down the sidewalk as we left residence hall. We had to apologize to
him, write a letter to the Director of Residence Halls, another to Resident
Assistants (one on each floor) of the residence hall, and had to do some
community service the next Saturday. We had to go to one of the co-ed
dorms and empty garbage cans and pick up trash around the building. No way
were we going to be allowed inside unchaperoned so one of the RA's got that
job. Good looking dude, at that!
We weren't very big then and we aren't now; maybe five foot four to five
foot eight and weighing around one hundred ten to one hundred twenty-five
pounds, at the most! Collectively, we all were slim, with taped hips,
lanky, and not really muscled. Hey, we were runners and runners are slim,
fit, with legs made for running, not for anchoring oneself to a wrestling
mat grappling burley, big, and sometimes fat, hulks dressed in
singlets. Those guys are tough and have to push and shove, grunt and groan,
while all we had to do was dust our asses out of there, as good runners
should! Let's face it, we're not really tough and fighters, okay?
I looked back toward the door leading to the locker room and the boy
standing there, uncertainty, anxiety, on his face. His name is James
Arthur Long; Jamie is what he prefers to be called. Jamie is in my Art
class and choir class and now, much to my surprise, in physical education
class with me. He generally sits up toward the front in Art class, but
since he sings tenor and so do I, he sits three chairs over in choir. I
didn't know he'd be in P.E. with me since we hadn't had class the week
before when school started because Dr. Schroeder was ill.
When I told my parents, after the first day of school, we had a new kid in
school and he was in my Art class and choir and I saw him a couple of times
in the lunch room during lunch hour, but he always sat at a table, not by
himself, although the way he behaved you would've thought so, with a few
students from Dr. Simons High School Special Resource room so I assumed he
was a student with special needs. They wanted to know his name and where he
came from. The first part I knew, but didn't have a clue concerning the
latter. Mom and Dad pondered the name and concluded they really didn't know
anyone by the name of "Long" or anyone new who may've moved into the campus
neighborhood.
"If he is a boy with some special needs and is in Dr. Simon's classroom, he
probably isn't really mentally challenged like some boys and girls, but
only have a mild impairment since the students in that particular classroom
will be in regular classes as well. Placing those students in the least
restrictive environment helps them develop and also lets them use those
skills they're best at while developing and improving those they are not
particularly proficient in doing. He'll need a friend, as a new boy with
certain limitations, Whit, and I hope you will be one of them."
Mom knew I would, but I explained when I tried to talk to Jamie in class,
he'd just blush, put his head down, or look the other way. I thought he
wanted to say something but just didn't trust me or something!
Mom and Dad both looked at me sort of funny, and finally Mom asked, "You're
quite attracted to him, aren't you Whit?"
I know my face turned red because I felt hot all over; she was absolutely
right, I was attracted to him and I really didn't know why. Well, I did
know why; I thought he was a good looking guy and I liked good looking
guys! For some reason, I was drawn toward him like a moth to a flame and I
just couldn't resist the pull!
"Just don't get hurt, Whit," she cautioned, "or hurt Jamie Long either,
okay?"
I knew exactly what she was saying; as a gay boy, I'd fallen in love a
dozen times, never really acting on it however, and I knew well how hurt I
felt each time, knowing the other boy really didn't like me like I liked
him. The other three Horsemen could give a shit if I was gay so I guess
that's all that matters - for now!
Well, I just couldn't let him stand there with everyone staring at him, so
I gave a jerk of my head to the other three Horsemen, to follow me. The
four of us walked to the door where Jamie stood, bag in hand, and now with
tears streaming down his cheeks. Stepping up to him, using one finger, for
whatever reason other than compassion for him and perhaps just more than a
little attraction, wiped away one tear, then another, and said softly,
"Hi, Jamie; remember me? Whit, from your Art class and choir, remember?"
Jamie nodded ever so slightly, finally looking up at me with his
tear-filled eyes!
"Did he," I asked pointing at Freddie Halbeck, a hulk of a kid, but not
mean, who had balls bigger than his brain (hold it- he has damned big
balls, so maybe he's smarter than I give him credit for), "say something
unkind to you?"
Again, Jamie nodded, but this time his chin began quivering, so crushed was
he by what was said.
The locker room was quiet, deathly quiet as all of the boys in the room
looked in the general direction, without really looking, at the group
surrounding Jamie. They were all anticipating what was going to happen next
- fight or fright! Who'd be the one who either got stomped or gave it up?
Either way, someone would catch hell from Coach Schroeder!
Behind me, Chris Fischer, the smallest of the four of us at five foot five
(still growing), stood, naked except for his underwear, hands on his hips,
facing Freddie, and demanded,
"What the hell did you say to him, Mr. Shit-for-brains?"
Jamie's mouth popped open, his wide widened in astonishment, almost
unbelieving what he'd heard Chris call Freddie!
"I called him a 'tard,'" Freddie responded, "he's in those special
classes!"
"And that makes you Albert Einstein, right?" Chris announced, poking
Freddie in the stomach with one finger.
Really, Freddie not a bad guy; it's just there are times he lets his ass
overload his mouth and says some dumb fucking thing, like today!
Freddy dropped his head sheepishly and quietly answered, "No."
"Well, don't do it again," cautioned Chris, "or I'll have to do something
you won't like- at all!"
All eyes and ears in the locker room pivoted forward without doing so, so
to speak; each person acting as though they weren't interested, but man,
were they ever wondering what the hell Chris could do so terrible to hurt a
big guy like Freddie!
Chris thought a moment and finally threatened, "If you don't apologize and
promise not to do it again, I'll pull your drawers down, draw a zipper
across your ass cheeks, and when I'm done, I'll unzip it, your asshole will
fall off, and you'll never be able to shit again; that's what I'll do, so
there!"
The tensions was broken! Freddie said he was sorry and promised not to do
it again and I thought all would be well, but Jamie was still reluctant to
move. I reached out my hand, he quickly grabbed it, when I said, "Come on,
Jamie, let's get you ready for class," and began leading him toward the
lockers. He quickly stepped behind me, holding tight to my hand while
clutching his gym bag with other, and got as far away from Freddie and
Chris as he could, looking over his shoulder, eyes wide and wary, when we
walked by them trying to keep as much distance between us as possible!
"Don't worry about him," Chris said quickly joining us, "He's really just a
big, old teddy bear."
Jamie wasn't so certain! I glanced up and saw Dr. Schroeder watching us
from the coach's office. I wondered why he didn't step in and say
something, at least give Freddie a detention or extra pushups or something,
but he didn't. Our school has a no-tolerance policy when it comes to
harassment whether just plain bullying or gays, lesbians, bi's,
transsexuals, black, white, Asian, Jewish, Muslin, Hindu, or any kind of
prejudicial remarks. We were expected to behave and understand everyone
has the right to be free from discrimination and deserve our respect- as it
should be!
I led Jamie to the row of lockers where the four of us had our lockers,
located a small empty one between mine and Scotty's and told him it would
be his.
"The small locker is for storing your gym clothes in so you don't have to
carry them all day in school. The large one," I said pointing to it
between rows of smaller ones, "is for your school clothes while you're in
phys-ed."
Jamie looked at me with a frown and said slowly in a slight southern
accent, "My new-daddy-said- I
would-like-my-new-school. I-don't-think-I-do!"
"Sure you will," Scotty said brightly. "You've got us now," pointing at
Derrick, Chris, and me. He then extended his hand and introduced himself.
Jamie looked at me, then at Scotty, and back at me.
"It's okay, Jamie," I said, "he's a good guy and so are the others, shake
their hands."
Jamie did as I asked as Derrick and Chris introduced themselves, but he was
more than a little hesitant to shake hands when it came to Chris.
Jamie then introduced himself, saying slowly, with that mild southern
accent we soon grew to love and associate with him, "I'm -James- Arthur
-Long, -but -everyone -calls me -Jamie."
He looked at me, back at Chris and asked, ever so hesitantly, "That- zipper
-thing -was -just -a -joke, right?"
Chris grinned and said "Yeah, Jamie, it was, so don't worry, okay?"
Introductions complete and Jamie seemingly a little more comfortable with
my friends, I said, "Let's see what you have in your gym bag, Jamie."
He handed it over, I opened it and started taking things out.
"My new daddy says there's everything in there I need for physical
education- that's hard to say- physical education, I mean," he said
apologetically.
He was extremely proud his "new daddy" made certain it was all he'd need
and indeed, it was. I pulled out tennis shoes for gym class, heavy socks,
a big bath towel, wash cloth, body wash, shampoo, school regulation
tee-shirt and gym shorts, a combination padlock, and a jock strap - still
in the box.
"Ever had P.E. before?" asked Derrick, now only clad in his underwear and
standing next to Jamie.
"We-only-had-recess-at-my-other-school," he responded quietly, somewhat
sheepishly, head tipped down slightly.
"I think you'll like this better than recess," Derrick said encouragingly.
"Okay, Jamie," I said, "let's get undressed and into our gym clothes!"
He straightened up, eyes wide in astonishment in that "I just got goosed"
look; "Here?"
"Yep, everyone has to change from their school clothes and put on gym
clothes."
I took off my shirt and gestured for him to take his off. After it was off,
we sat on the bench and both of us took off our shoes and socks. I
motioned for Jamie to stand.
"Now off comes the pants and underwear," I said and dropped my pants and
pulled off my underwear, standing stark naked in front of him. Jamie
wavered, so I reached over, unbuckled his belt, unsnapped his jeans front,
and pulled down his zipper. He got the message and took off his jeans, but
left his underwear on.
I motioned with my finger they should come off as well; with great
reluctance and shyly, he slowly pulled down his boxers, stepped out of
them, and quickly covered his genitals with his hands and looked around the
room at the naked and half-naked boys in there.
"Whit!" he whispered loudly poking me in the shoulder with a free finger,
"They can see my" looking down at his crotch, "my 'thingy'!"
Scotty stepped up, looked down, saying, "Not covered up like that we can't,
so move your hands."
Amazingly, Jamie moved his hand, as Scotty flipped his own cock up and down
a couple of times, saying, "It's called a 'cock,' Jamie and everyone's got
one." He looked down at Jamie's and continued, his eyes wide this time,
"Well, not quite that size!"
Hanging out of a nice, but sparse, bush of dark hair, over a set of rather
generous balls, was an uncut cock about the size of a Milwaukee bratwurst
and flaccid; the foreskin covering and forming a little pucker at the end,
the head of the one-eyed giant sort of peeking out, and I could see the
thick vein running across the top length of his velvety, soft pecker. I
don't think I ever heard anyone say, out loud at least, a cock was
beautiful, but I thought Jamie's was and his slim body, narrow hips, small,
but nicely shaped butt, and face were as well!
"You said a bad word!" Jamie announced to Scotty.
"What? Cock?"
Jamie nodded and bashfully pointed a finger at Chris, "You did too when you
said you'd put a zipper on that other boy."
Rather than explain himself, Chris just nodded and waited, along with the
rest of us, what Jamie was going to say next.
"My cousins, where I lived before, would get their mouths washed out with
soap by my aunt when they used bad words," he announced deliberately and
sternly!
The locker room remained as silent as a graveyard at midnight. I noticed,
out of the corner of my eye, Coach was listening from his office doorway.
Before anyone could respond, shaking his head, sticking out his tongue, and
making a face of distaste to emphasize his point, Jamie said with
affirmative knowledge, "I don't like the taste of soap very well!"
Well, we all know now Jamie Long knows the word or words and used them at
least once in front of his aunt!
"Okay," I said, fearing what was going to happen next in this getting
dressed process and opening the box containing the athletic supporter (size
small, hoping his big cock and balls would fit in it), "let's get this on!"
He had no idea how to put it on, even after I put mine on, so I had him put
his hands on my shoulders, lift one leg and then the other as I slipped the
jock strap up his thin, almost hairless legs accidently brushing the tip of
his penis when I pulled up, as I explained where the front and the back
were and how the straps fit under his butt cheeks, and pulled his jock
strap up in place, adjusting the straps under his small, but delightful,
baby-butt smooth ass cheeks. I just couldn't resist running one hand over
those sweet globes and giving his balls a bit of cup with my other hand,
asking, "It feels okay and fits right?"
Jamie just grinned and nodded, but suddenly realized there was no back on
the jock!
"Whit!" he said softly in astounded incredulity, "Everyone can see my butt
hole when I wear this!"
"Really?"
He nodded his head up and down rather vigorously, eyes big and wide
accentuating his present state of astonishment!
"Turn around and bend over!"
Jamie did as I instructed; I tapped him on his right butt cheek, and said,
"Yep, they can! Stand up and turn around and see if you can see mine!"
I bent over, pointing my wrinkled brownish-pink inner-sanctum entrance in
his direction, and I heard him giggle before he tapped me on my left butt
cheek, and said, "Yep!"
"Well," I announced seriously, "I guess we'll just have to put on these
shorts so everyone doesn't spend all class looking at our butt holes, won't
we?"
Shorts, socks, and shoes went on without a comment!
I looked at the combination lock and decided I's save that for another time
and put his clothes in my locker and locked it.
The Four Horsemen and Jamie were the last ones on the field, but Coach
never said a word about us being late. We lined up for attendance, did
some warmup jumping jacks and stretches (it was a hoot watching Jamie try
to imitate what we did, be he eventually got the hang of it). He really
wasn't uncoordinated, just never had the experiences so it was going to
take some time to learn new things.
It was softball today and Coach split us up into two teams. For some
reason, he made certain Jamie was on the same team with me and the other
three Horsemen. It was evident Jamie played softball before and had some
rudimentary understanding of the game, but hadn't developed the skills.
The first two times he was up at bat, he would swing; slow, weak grip on
the bat, behind the pitch, and strike out! Chris, Derrick, and Scotty took
him off to one side, got a baseball bat, and patiently began giving him
instruction and letting him take practice swings.
Finally, Scotty leaned close to Jamie and whispered something in his ear;
Jamie nodded his head, smiled with a blush, and put his head down. I did
notice he had a firmer grip on the bat the next several practice swings,
however.
When it was his turn to bat again, Jamie stepped up to the plate, grabbed
the bat with both hands gripped tightly, low on the handle, just ahead of
the knob, raised it to his shoulder, and when the first pitch was
delivered, Scotty shouted, "Do what I told you!" and Jamie, eyes squinted
somewhat in concentration, swung the bat, and missed! It didn't seem to
bother him since he just gripped harder and smiled.
The next pitch looked good, so Scotty shouted, "Now, shoot your load!" and
Jamie grunted, shifted his crotch forward like he was taking a final fuck
push, swung the bat, almost with his eyes closed I thought, and connected,
sending the ball straight down the first base line where it connected, with
a "smacking" sound with Freddie's crotch, where he stood playing first
base, dropping him like a rock! The ball rolled fair and, although
technically out of play because it hit a player, Coach shouted for Jamie to
run to first base. Jamie just stood there, transfixed by poor Freddie
clutching his balls and writhing around on the ground in pain.
I quickly grabbed Jamie's hand and pulled him after me shouting, exhorting
him to forget Freddie and run to first base with me. "Don't worry about
Freddie, he's got balls of steel!"
We ran to first, then to second with Jamie trying to look over his shoulder
at Freddie (now starting to get up, not too worse for wear I thought at a
quick glance), to third base, and headed for home plate. The entire class,
except for Freddie, was cheering Jamie on, urging him to make a home run
and touch home plate. Jamie and I crossed home plate, each touching as we
did, but Jamie kept on running, this time pulling me with him! He stopped
right in front of Freddie.
I could see the tears running down Jamie's face, not from happiness, but
from sorrow for hurting someone else. He stood a moment, sniffed his nose,
did a quick wipe of his eyes, and said, "I'm sorry for hitting your steel
balls! Do they hurt a lot?"
Freddie had a puzzled look on his face but when he saw the anguish of
Jamie's face and the grin on mine, he forced a smile, and so, "No, they're
just fine! Don't worry about them, Jamie, okay?"
Jamie gave him a big hug and sort of skipped back to where the other three
Horsemen were waiting, smiles plastered across their faces! All was well
as far as Jamie was concerned!
I took Scotty aside and asked, "What the hell did you say to him?"
Scotty grinned, "I asked him if he knew how to jack off that big cock of
his! He nodded, so I told him to hold on to the bat like he did when he
wanked himself and what he did when he fired a load. Worked didn't it?"
Coach dismissed us to the locker room to shower and get ready to go
home. Jamie received all sorts of kind words from his classmates and the
four of us were just as generous. To say he was a happy lad was an
understatement! I think it was probably one of the first times other kids
his age, other than family, complimented him and accepted him, just the way
he acted. He was so happy!
Dirty, sweaty, smelly, the five of us stood in front of our lockers
laughing and talking. Finally, I said, "Time to hit the showers, Jamie!"
He looked at me suspiciously, thought a moment, saw the other boys
stripping and walking naked toward the shower room, pointed hesitantly with
his right index finger, pursed his lips in concentration, frowned, and
said, "In there?"
I nodded.
"Naked?"
I nodded again, saying, "Yep!"
"With everyone else naked too?"
"Yep!" I responded, stripping my gym clothes off and standing looking at
him as naked as the day I was born!
Jamie looked me in the eyes, still questioning, then slowly moved his gaze
down toward my crotch, where he stared intently, for more than just a
moment I should add, at my smaller cut cock, smiled ever so slightly, sort
of licked his lips, then quickly shifted his eyes upward. Taking a deep
breath, he stripped to his altogether as well!
I handed him his shampoo, wash cloth, and carrying his body wash, my own
wash cloth in one hand, took him by my other hand and led him, followed by
Derrick, Scotty, and Chris, to the shower room. Turning on the shower, I
stepped under it, nudged Jamie to join me, while the others sort of made a
semi-circle around us, somewhat shielding us from the rest of the boys in
the shower room, more to relieve Jamie's modesty than anything else. The
other shower heads were close enough they could shower as well, but still
form a protective shield so to speak.
I told Jamie to turn around and face the wall, bend his head back a little,
and I put a dollop of shampoo on it, and began cleansing his beautiful dark
hair. As my hands and fingers massaged his scalp, he leaned back against
me, almost purring like a kitten with a full tummy he loved it so much!
While shampooing his head, I couldn't help but notice, as I looked over his
shoulder, the foreskin of his cock began to retract, exposing a nice fat,
somewhat lighter head. I could feel my own cock began to swell as I looked
at his.
Finished, I said, "Rinse," and while he did, shampooed my own hair. Jamie
loved the hot water cascading down on his body. I handed him his body wash
and indicated to scrub, "Get all the cracks and crevices too" while I
washed as well, using his body wash. Hey, why carry two of anything to the
showers, unless it's your balls!
We both finished, rinsed, and I looked over at Derrick, Chris, and Scotty;
they were grinning like well fucked pups! Scotty pointed down toward
Jamie's crotch. Before I could sneak a look, Jamie turned quickly to me and
hissed, "Whit!"
"What, Jamie?"
He pointed down at his very stiff seven-plus inch penis (you know as well
as I do, a cock always looks bigger on someone else, especially when you're
a freshman in high school - but Jamie's was!), and said with some
awkwardness, "I'm stiff -see?"
I looked down and sure enough he was! His dick pointed straight out in
front of him, foreskin fully retracted, plum-shaped head a little larger
than the shaft, bright and shining, piss slit wide and ready to spit,
almost like a knight's lance during the days of King Arthur, readying
itself for a joust!
He quickly grinned, waggled his fat, thick, long dick at me, looked down at
my crotch and said, "You are too!"
Of course he was right, but my dick was not as big as his; mine curved up
toward my belly-button, not straight out like Jamie's. The other three
Horsemen huddled around us, kind of protecting us from the views of others,
as we hustled out to the locker room. Fortunately, most of the others had
cleared out and were in the attached classroom waiting for Coach to dismiss
them. I could have cared less about anyone seeing my erection; most in the
class knew I was gay and prone to tossing a bone once in a while in the
shower.
We stopped in front of our lockers; Jamie evidently was not paying
attention and didn't stop as quickly, ramming his stiff pecker in my ass
crack and be damned, when he did, if it didn't feel like he gave it a
couple of extra pushes up and down the valley of delight!
"Oops," I heard him say with a giggle, as he gave one more final push and
backed off.
We dried off and in the process our erections settled down, rapidly, I
might add considering where we were. Jamie and I slipped on our underwear
and while I was putting on my jeans, Jamie, still in his boxers, took off
across the locker room. I swiveled quickly around wondering where the hell
he was off to and what he was going to do whenever he got to where he was
going. He was making a beeline for Freddie Halbeck, just pulling his jeans
up to his hips.
Jamie stopped in front of him, looked down at Freddie's crotch, looked up
and asked, "Do you really have steel balls like Whit said?"
Freddie, bless his heart, smiled, "No Jamie, he was foolin' with you. I
have balls just like yours; see?" and pulled down his jeans and underwear
exposing his, what I thought until shower time, was a large set of gonads.
Jamie leaned over, frowning, inspecting them visually, and slowly waggled
his head from side to side.
"No," he said almost studiously, "They're littler than mine."
Without so much as a "by your leave," he added, "You're really lucky!"
"Yeah, I know," Freddie said thankfully, "an inch more to the right and I'd
be singing soprano."
Again, Jamie shook his head "no."
"If that boy," pointing at Chris, "would have drawn a circle around your
tummy button like this," and using a finger, slowly drew a circle around
Freddie's navel, causing him to suck in his gut from the touch of a cold
finger and where it was touching, "and then" Jamie announced rather loudly,
pushing a finger into Freddie's navel smack-dab on his bellybutton, "Your
cock would have fallen off!"
Oh my god; the few of us still left in the locker room erupted in a howl of
laughter!
When we settled down, Jamie grinned at Freddie and said, "I'm just funnin'
with you!"
"I know, Jamie," Freddie answered with a bump to Jamie's shoulder.
Coach, standing in the locker room doorway, evidently brought there by our
noise, said, "Hurry up you guys; the bell about to ring."
He turned to the five of us and said, "Cross Country practice starts next
week and I expect the Four Horsemen to be there," and almost as an
afterthought, added, "Bring Long with you!"
Chapter Two
"We cannot tell the precise moment when friendship is formed. As in filling
a vessel drop by drop, there is at last a drop which makes it run over; so
in a series of kindnesses there is at last one which make the heart run
over."
(James Boswell)
My Best Friend
Jamie wasn't the fastest person on earth when it came to getting dressed
once he found someone to visit with; Scotty, Chris, Derrick and me -
especially me! The only real problem with visiting after the end of class
was the simple fact, he still was standing in his underwear and I found it
a bit disconcerting trying to get him to dress while, if not touching me on
the shoulder, arm or holding on to me, he'd fondle his ample front package
while he visited with us. I'm certain he was totally unaware of his
actions so I finally said with exasperation, "Jamie, leave your balls and
pecker alone and get dressed!" Just watching him do it made me harder than
the Rock of Gibraltar!
He looked down at his plumping crotch, moved his hand, grinned that
"happy-go-lucky-I'm-so-happy-to-be-with-you" grin of his, picked up his
pants, put them on, and then his shirt. The three other Horsemen, plus
myself, were already dressed and waiting on him. Scotty raised his
eyebrows questioning if they should wait or leave; I waved them on
indicating I'd stay with Jamie until he was ready to go home. For someone
who was so shy all last week in class and up until an hour ago or so when
class started, he certainly wasn't now! I decided the longer I knew Jamie
Long, the more patience I'd have to have and learn; a task I was quickly
coming to accept and look forward to for some reason!
Finally dressed, Jamie's eyes sparkled with joy and pleasure, expressing
the excitement he felt, being with us, and having a friend. He ran his
fingers through his hair and said softly, "I didn't bring my hair brush."
I reached into my gym bag, pulled out my own hair brush, and without even
thinking what I was doing or caring what anyone else thought, I brought his
head closer and brushed his hair in place. As I did, he closed his eyes
and sort of leaned into me, much like he'd done in the shower, acting as if
this was something I did for him every day of our lives. Little did I
realize, at the time, how normal this would become for us!
"I've got to go to my room and get my homework and other stuff," Jamie
announced when I was done, slipping his hand into mine as we left the
locker room. We walked down the halls until we came to Jamie's room and
his hall locker outside of it. The locker wasn't locked and I commented
that someone might take his things. He reached inside, took out the
combination lock he was given to put on the locker and handed it to me. It
was one of those school padlocks with the key slot in the back so the
custodians could open it if they needed to get in or if someone forgot
their combination.
"I don't know how to make it go around and open," he confessed.
"Don't worry about it Jamie, we'll learn how, okay?"
He picked up a couple of books, a math book and a literature or reading
book, stuffed them into his back pack, and took small device from the book
shelf in the top of the locker and put it in his pocket. It appeared to be
similar to a small cell phone, but wasn't.
"I'm supposed to keep this on me when I'm not home, but I forgot to take it
with me when I went to gym class."
Jamie thought a moment, frowned, his dark eyebrows wrinkled, and suddenly
laughed out loud.
"Where would I put it if I did take to gym?" he mused. "Would I put in the
sack on the jock strap where my cock is? I don't think anything else would
fit in there."
He seemed so happy he could use the word 'cock' now, but I had to caution
him "not to use it and some of the other words he heard today around anyone
else except us guys."
Before he could ask why, I raised my eyebrows and said, "Remember your
aunt, Jamie?"
Jamie made the same distasteful face he'd made when he described how soap
tasted, and nodded his head he understood.
I asked him what the little device was and he shrugged his shoulders,
indicating he didn't know. "My new daddy only said if I ever got lost or
needed him, I could just push the little red button and he'd come get me."
I figured it was some sort of GPS device or something like the thing the
lady uses in the television commercial and falls down outside the bathtub
and hollers for help. I wondered why someone thought it necessary Jamie
have one instead of a cell phone. Can't a cell phone just "ping" from
nearby cell towers and law enforcement triangulate the location from that?
Maybe that would take too long, how should I know? I was now really curious
who his "new daddy" was - really, really curious!
Back pack hitched up on his back, gym bag in one hand and my hand in the
other, Jamie walked with me to my hall locker so I could get the own
homework I had for the next day to get done. The halls were pretty much
empty by then and when we went out the front entrance door of the school, I
was wondering how Jamie was getting home. I saw no one waiting for him so
I asked.
"I'm supposed to walk home today," he answered. "Momma walked with me every
day last week so I'd know the way and wrote down the directions for me to
follow," and reached into his jeans pocket and took out a slip of paper. I
looked over his shoulder as he showed it to me.
"See," he said explaining the directions carefully to me, "I walk two
blocks that way" and pointed across the street, "and turn left and walk two
blocks that way," and again pointed with is finger. My address is right
here," pointing at the address written on the paper. "I live on Franklin
Street."
"Hey," I said, "I live three blocks over and three blocks left, on Pierce,
so I can walk with you. Okay?"
Man, he damned near danced, he was so excited; still holding my hand, as if
it was just the thing to do, we started off for Jamie's house! I didn't
care who saw me holding another boy's hand as we walked; Jamie was happy,
secure, and with his friend and that was all that mattered!
It was a nice day and we weren't in any hurry Jamie thought, but I figured
if we were too late, someone would wonder what happened and come looking
for him, so I had to urge him on once in a while, especially if he saw
something he thought was interesting and wanted to take a closer look, such
as flower bed full of Fall Mums or a smashed banana on the sidewalk. We
visited as we walked; well I mostly listened and Jamie talked. I noticed
once he was relaxed and comfortable around someone, especially me, his
speech did speed up some and he was not quite so deliberate trying to get
it right. Sure he made some mistakes, but I didn't give a shit and neither
did he; he knew I understood what he was talking about and didn't care how
he said it!
I asked him about his other daddy, if this was his "new daddy."
He looked at me funny, as if I had two heads, but all he said was, "Because
he is my new daddy, not a daddy I had before," and let the subject drop.
We finally arrived at his house and I recognized it! I don't know why I
didn't tumble before; I guess because I never paid attention to the address
before. Stopping at the sidewalk and gate through the taller iron picket
fence surrounding the property, I noticed the two story brick home hadn't
changed much since I was last here. The trim on the two column roofed front
entrance and the wooden balcony above were freshly painted as were the
French doors leading to it. In fact the entire house trim looked freshly
painted.
I asked carefully, "Is this your house, Jamie?"
He nodded and said, "Momma and I moved in here after she married my new
daddy."
Cautiously, knowing the answer in advance, I asked, "What's your new
daddy's name, Jamie?"
He smiled proudly, "Arthur Kraft, and he works up at the University."
Yep, shit and two are eight! It was the house of Dean Art Kraft, Head of
Campus Security and Campus Police. Everyone called him "Chief" because of
his position. How well I knew the man, as did the other three Horsemen. We
made his acquaintance first four years before after our romp through the
residence hall!
As head of a major division of the university, my father, as well as
Chris's, Derrick's, and Scotty's, were well acquainted with Dean Kraft,
professionally and socially, although Chief Kraft really didn't socialize
very much. He was a good head of security, took everything quite
seriously, knew when to be tough and when not to, but was always on the
job! Mom and Dad said he was really a nice guy and that might be, but I
knew one thing for certain, he could be one tough son-of-a-bitch and
carried three things on his belt under his suit coat; a shiny gold badge, a
two-way radio, and a fucking big gun!
We stood near the front gate, Jamie still holding my hand. There was an
awkward silence until I finally said, "Jamie, I have to go home too."
He looked so sad when I said it, so I added quietly, "If you want, I can
stop by in the morning and we can walk to school together."
Jamie giggled and smiled that happy smile of his. "What time?"
"Oh, I don't know, I'll give you a call."
I didn't have his phone number, but knew my dad would have it in the
faculty phone directory; the private one, not the one distributed to the
public. Many of the faculty members had private numbers at home and only
listed their office numbers in the public directories. I pulled my
backpack off, got out a piece of paper, and wrote down the number he gave
me. I took another piece of paper and wrote down my home phone and cell
phone number.
"The first number," I explained, "is my home telephone number so I put an
'H' in front of it. The other is my cell phone number and I put a 'C' in
front of it, okay?"
Jamie's face lit up like a Christmas tree, just as happy as if I'd given
him a million dollars, but quickly asked, "You got your own cell phone?"
I nodded.
"Someday," he said hopefully, "my new daddy says I'll get my own cell phone
too."
Jamie gave me a big hug and skipped down the sidewalk toward his house. As
I turned to leave, I saw a woman, who I presumed to be his mother, open the
door and her arms, and give him a big hug. She looked over his shoulders as
she did, seeing me look back.
On my way home, I quickly gave Scotty a call to see if the Four Horsemen
were going to run in the morning before school and what time (six,
according to Scotty). I had to be done running, showered, and have
breakfast before going over to Jamie's. School started at 8:10 so I
figured 7:45 should be soon enough, unless we ate breakfast at school then
7:30. Breakfast was from 7:30 to 8:00.
The nice thing about being a campus school, university food service
prepared and served the breakfast and lunches. Breakfast was mainly ala
carte with hot and cold items, fruit and fruit juice, milk, tea, coffee
(the usual breakfast type foods) and paid for with a swipe of your food
service debit card which the parents replenished as needed through the Food
Service Office or Bursar's Office. Many of the students, grade school
through high school, ate breakfast at school. Not only was it good to eat
and saved moms who worked the hassle at home, it also gave everyone a
chance to visit. I wasn't certain yet if Jamie would be ready for a
breakfast at school, so thought I might wait a few days.
It was a slow walk home for me; I had so much to think about, mainly Jamie
Long and where my relationship with him might go. I wasn't certain it would
go anywhere, but yet I sort of really wanted it to. How could a bright,
top of the class, boy like me have anything in common with a boy like
Jamie? Worse yet, how could he possibly be interested in the things I like
to do without being bored to death? Let's face it, I'm a little
artsy-fartsy and a complete nerd! A boy who has learning problems (unlike
me), probably had difficulties studying (unlike me), and probably was as
straight as a Texas highway (unlike me, bent as a series of switchbacks
going down a mountain), couldn't possibly be interested in me, no matter
how much I wanted him to be!
I knew I wanted him as a friend and I thought he wanted the same of me, but
perhaps it was just because I stepped up to help today, protecting him from
Freddie Halbeck. But, that's what I wanted to do, protect him, be with
him, laugh and cry with him, and love him! I knew that the first day I saw
him in art class and later choir. Could he feel the same way toward me?
What would him mom say, or worse yet, Chief Kraft? He knew who I was, would
he let one little transgression, actually more than one if you count
decorating the trees outside the principal's house with toilet paper or
making a foot and half big long dick from modeling clay and hanging it on
one of the statues outside the Commons (he didn't know that was the Four
Horsemen- rumor was it was a frat house)? I can get myself in some of the
damnedest predicaments!
Once home, I quickly set about my daily routine; soon to change when cross
country practice starts. When it did, it'd take about an hour and a half
to run, shower, get home, with barely enough time to do my homework and
practice piano before dinner. I had lessons every other week on Wednesday
evening and I had a piece to perform at a recital just before Thanksgiving.
After putting my school work and books on my desk, I chucked my backpack on
the floor next to it and went down to the living room to begin my piano
practice. I raised the cover over the keyboard, ran a few scales and played
a couple of short pieces to limber up my hands and arms. I still wasn't
pleased with my efforts on the selection I was to perform and didn't feel
my memorization was complete, so I vowed to continue to work at it.
There are some, I'm certain, who might think Beethoven's Piano Sonata
No. 14 in C-sharp Minor, op. 27, no.2 (Moonlight) is not all that difficult
and perhaps it isn't to them. I was having the most difficult time with
the third movement, "Presto Agitato." It's fast (presto-get it?) and about
half way through, for some reason I'd seem to stumble, my right hand would
seem to tire and I'd lose count. Once I reached that part where the left
hand picked up more of the action, I could rest my right a little. I felt
if there was some way I could relax, focus on something else other than the
mental block I seemed to be building and just let the music flow, my right
hand could then just ease into the "trilling" on the upper keys, rest (as
written), and began again, finishing the piece.
I try to practice an hour every day, usually before dinner time. Dad gets
home around five thirty or so and enjoys listening to me. With dinner
usually at six, it gives him that opportunity and me the chance to practice
as he settles in his chair to listen.
Practicing the piece, this first time through, I found my mind wandering,
allowing my memorization of the piece to take over, moving my fingers, my
feet almost automatically. I imagined performing the work not so much for
my parents or for the gathered people at the coming recital, but for Jamie!
I didn't know if he'd ever appreciate classical music or what type of music
he'd like, but I did know I wanted to please him and no one else! I
imagined him standing near the piano, his face aglow with that precious,
captivating, lovable smile of his, nodding approvingly as I played, and
when I finished, applauding me, sealing his pleasure and love with a kiss
on my lips by his soft, smooth warm lips and mouth! I almost stood after I
finished, hesitated sitting on the piano bench, realizing suddenly I had
finished, really, and never missed a note!
During dinner, I must have been remote, distanced mentally from my parents
while at the table, since Dad remarked, "Whit, you must really be thinking
of something important to be so far away, yet so close!"
My face flushed red, Mom and Dad smiled at each other and I knew very well
they knew who and what I was thinking of!
After helping clear the table, I went upstairs to my room to do my
homework. Our house is a two story (obviously, if I went upstairs - duh!),
four bedroom brick house. My parents occupied the master bedroom, with its
own bathroom; I had one to the front of the house, and the other two used
to be my older brother's. My next oldest brother, Matt, is eight years my
senior and a teacher in a nearby community and my oldest brother, Jeff, is
an emergency room doctor in our local hospital. He and his wife and two
little ones live over on the east side not far from the hospital. I think
he wished he lived closer so my nephews could go to Hamilton, but he wasn't
in this attendance area. He's a pretty good doctor if I don't say so
myself; he's patched me up a couple of times. Each time wasn't anything
serious, but enough to have mom call him and take a look at me.
I sat at my desk and began doing my homework. I'd work a little bit and
then my mind would wander back to Jamie Long! I suppose you'd think I'd
probably be pounding my pud vigorously as I envisioned his lightly tanned
body, slim hips, big balls, and nicely shaped uncut cock, seeing him stand
naked before after our shower his dick sticking straight out in front of
him, almost as an invitation or challenge, but, although I was stiff as a
ten-penny nail and really wanting to become intimately acquainted with his
body, I didn't do it! No, he was more than just "wank" material for my
fantasies; he was special; someone I really wanted to be with, not just for
sex, but to "be" with, if you know what I mean! His smile could make me
happy and my heart ache at the same time!
Around nine, homework finished, I went downstairs, told my folks goodnight,
went back to my room, stripped naked, and crawled into bed. I was tired,
yet not tired. My thoughts were disturbed by the ringing of my cell phone
next to my bed. I seldom shut it off and left it in the charger at night
so it'd be ready to go for the next day. A quick look at the caller ID
told me who it was, but when I answered, no one responded to my first
"hello" although I knew he was on the other end.
Speaking softly, I said, "Hi, Jamie."
An audible sigh of relief was heard from the other end and a reply equally
as soft as mine;
"Whit?" followed quickly by "Daddy said, after I did my homework and before
bed, I could call you and say goodnight and ask what time I should be ready
in the morning."
I grinned, just hearing his voice was enough to put all of my mind's
wanderings at peace, and replied, "I'm so happy you did!" The truth be
known, to put it like Scotty might, I was as happy as a pig in shit!
"Did you get all of your homework done, Jamie?"
"Yeah."
"Jamie?"
"Yeah?"
"How about I stop by about seven fifteen in the morning and we can go to
breakfast together at school?"
He hesitated, so I quickly added, "Ask your dad if it's okay."
"Wait a minute," he jabbered quickly, put the phone down and I could hear
him scampering away. He was back sooner than I expected so I had to assume
his dad was somewhere close.
"He said okay!" Jamie responded giggling.
"Great, I'll see you in the morning, okay?"
"Whit?"
"Yes, Jamie?"
"I really like you, Whit!"
My heart almost burst with joy hearing him say that! With all my heart, I
responded, "I really like you too, Jamie! I'll see you in the morning,
okay?" With that I said goodbye and disconnected.
Just as I returned the phone to the charger, it rang again.
"Yes, Jamie?"
"I forgot to tell you goodnight, Whit, so good night!"
"Goodnight, Jamie!"
"Whit?"
"Yes?"
"I really, really do like you!"
"And I really, really like you, so I'll see you in the morning!"
"Goodnight and goodbye, Whit."
"Goodbye, Jamie."
I lay awake reflecting on our conversation, the turmoil in my mind coming
to an easier understanding of my current relationship and future
relationship with Jamie Long. He was so innocent in so many ways, but
quite astute and understanding in others; so good looking, so lickable, so
Jamie; how could I not love him, not only as a friend but, hopefully as a
lover. I could barely keep my eyes off of him when I was around him or my
hands either, and that only after one real day of knowing him. I knew,
because of the challenges he faced in school because of his special needs,
I'd have to be careful. I didn't want to be taking advantage of him for my
own sexual satisfaction or any other reason. I just wanted to be with him
and be his friend. I loved having him near, hearing his voice, inhaling
the very scent of him!
Would a sexual relationship with him be wrong because of his intellectual
limitations? Were they severe enough, (although it didn't seem so, but
what the hell do I know?) that I'd fuck up his mind while fucking him up
the ass or him fucking me?
Did I really deserve to have such a wonderful person as my boyfriend, if he
wanted me and was gay, or did he really understand what that meant? These
were all questions I had, but decided the answers would come along as we
grew to know each other. No matter what they were, I just knew Jamie Long
was a special person to me in so many ways!
My usual morning hard-on led the way to the bathroom; I damned near had to
stand on my head in order to piss in the toilet wondering if Jamie got as
stiff in the morning as I did, but remembered what he looked like with his
cock erect and decided he did, only more so!
Resolved not to pump out a load, I changed into my running clothes and
shoes, left the house, and jogged over to the school where the other three
Horsemen were just gathering. Little was said as Scotty, setting a steady,
but not fast pace, led the way up through campus, around the physical
plant, down through the trail going through the arboretum, and back to the
school. We ran without saying much, each of us knowing the other's
strides, allowing us to run as a team and rack off the distance. We ran
with each of us absorbed in our own thoughts; mine were on Jamie!
The others must have sensed my thoughts because when we stopped at the
school, each of us sweating, breathing deep and hard to catch our breath,
walking off the run to cool off, Derrick asked,
"Going to bring Jamie to breakfast with us this morning?"
I nodded, gasping out "Yeah!" as I was catching my wind.
"How about he start running with us in the morning?" Chris asked.
"Don't know if he could keep up the pace," I answered in between deep
breaths.
"We can take it easy and slow down some. It really wouldn't hurt us any,"
Scotty added.
It hit me at that point; they really liked Jamie and wanted him to join us!
My friends knew, from watching me and hearing me, I really liked Jamie too
and they were giving me an opportunity to be with him more. It was their
tacit approval of my developing relationship with him, but they wanted to
be friends too.
"He'll have to check with his dad," I responded.
The three of them nodded, but stopped abruptly when I said, "His new daddy
is Chief Kraft!"
Scotty's mouth dropped open in astonishment and just as quickly, his mind
was suddenly absorbed sorting through the various events, pranks, or
mischief we'd concocted over the past few years, at least since our race
through the women's residence hall, before exclaiming, "No shit!"
"I shit you not," I fired back.
The four us, after we were caught that fateful night, were hauled to Chief
Kraft's home, still clad in our underwear, I might add, and waited for our
parents to come pick us up. You know how damned cold and embarrassing it
can get standing on the front porch of the Head of Security's house waiting
for your parents? My balls and little wiener was so shrunk up against my
groin so tight, I'd have to poke my finger up my ass and shout "SNAKE!" in
order to take a piss.
He calmly but accurately described our antics to our parents, not
separately, but right there, still in our underwear, on the front lawn. I
mean, where do you put your hands when you're trying to listen seriously
because there's every possibility you just might get tossed in jail and
have some ugly, fat, big-dicked bozo decided to do a prostate exam with
something other than just a finger! When he suggested, for punishment,
rather than press charges we do some community service and apologize, I
damned near pissed my pants with joy! I looked over and could see a damp
spot on Derrick's undies though. After all, it was his house we were
supposed to staying at and his dad was the Dean of Instruction. Must have
been kind of embarrassing, standing there in his underwear listening to the
Chief tell the Dean of Instruction the somewhat irregular adventures of his
son!
I was sort of dreading going home; my mom was just a little pissed and I
expected my dad to be really upset. I was surprised, once home, dad
thought what we did was uproarishly funny; mom didn't!
"How do you know he is?" Derrick asked questioning my statement.
"Jamie told me on the way to his house and once we got there, I recognized
it, that's how!"
"Yeah; who could forget!" mumbled Chris.
"I thought he must sleep with his clothes on," mumbled Scotty. "Shit, he
answered the door all dressed, gold badge on his belt and that big fuckin'
gun strapped on his hip!"
We all agreed, that night of our misadventure, Chief Kraft looked pretty
formidable and bigger than life. Not one of us wanted to meet with him
again under those circumstance! I'd seen him, as had the others, when
children were included at faculty gatherings at our homes or receptions or
when he walked or drove around campus. He also made periodic trips through
our school, evidently either inspecting or just "showing the badge" letting
others know we were safe from harm with the campus police about. It also
kept all of the students on our toes as well.
Scotty thought just raising the urinals in the boy's bathrooms would have
had the same effect, but I disagreed; the little guys would just piss on
the floor!
Personally, I did my very best to avoid him really not wanting to remind
him of our previous encounter!
"Still want Jamie to run with us?" I asked cautiously.
All three, almost in chorus, chimed out, "Hell, yes; he's a nice guy, in
spite of his step-father!"
Well, I thought Jamie Long was more than just "nice;" I thought he was
much, much more! My grin expressed how I felt concerning their reaction to
my question. With a wave of my hand, I jogged home to shower and get ready
for my breakfast date with Jamie; a date I hoped would happen every morning
and every lunch period.
Showered, deodorant and some nice cologne applied (I wanted to smell nice
for him), teeth brushed, dressed in my school clothes, and back pack slung
over one shoulder, I scurried over to Jamie's.
I started up the sidewalk to Jamie's house and thought I saw a curtain move
in one of the front windows. I was willing to bet it was Jamie looking out
the window waiting for me. The doorbell barely had a chance to ring its
chime when the door popped open and out came Jamie. Be damned if he didn't
grab me and give me the biggest, warmest, hug and briefly rested his head
on my shoulder. Other than about dislodging my backpack strap from its
position on my shoulder, his actions were not disagreeable, in fact, just
the opposite; I found it most pleasurable. I hugged him back and breathed
in the scent of a mixture of shampoo, body wash, toothpaste, a whiff of
delightful cologne, and most of all, him!
"You smell good!" he said softly in my ear before releasing me.
"Daddy and Momma!" he shouted over his shoulder, "come meet my very best
friend, Whit!" and led me into the living room.
As they came into the living room, a panicked look upon his face, Jamie
said excitedly and with deep concern, "Whit, I don't know your last name!"
"Whitfield, Jamie. My real first name is Carlton, but that's my dad's name
too so everyone just calls me 'Whit'."
Okay, we're all happy again!
I'd not met his mother before (duh- she just moved here with Jamie), but
Chief Kraft I knew only too well! She was not a very tall woman, but not
short either, about the same height as Jamie; small framed, with slim
waist, built somewhat like Jamie although not quite, and a large, bright
welcoming smile, just like Jamie. Jamie's smile would light up his entire
face, as did hers, but his smile seemed to radiate over his whole body and
make mine tingle as well every time I saw it!
Mrs. Kraft shook my hand with the same delicacy I'd expect from Jamie and
said softly, "We've heard so much about you, Whit, since school started. It
appears our son is quite taken with you. We're pleased he has you for his
friend."
Her voice, although feminine, reminded me of Jamie's with the same
softness, sincerity, and intonation. It was easy to understand she loved
her son very much and the way he smiled at her as she talked, he loved her
very much and so much wanted her to like me as well!
Chief Kraft then stepped forward and although I dreaded this meeting, I was
pleasantly surprised by the smile on his face as he welcomed me; "Good
morning, Whit, did you and the other Horsemen enjoy the run this morning?"
Now, just how in the hell did he know we ran this morning? I supposed one
of the campus cops on patrol saw us and reported it to him.
"Good morning, Chief," I responded, "Yes we did sir, thank you."
Jamie perked up all of a sudden, looked at me curiously, back at Chief
Kraft, and back at me before asking, "You know each other? Who are the
Horsemen; do they ride horses?"
Chief Kraft explained my dad also worked for the university and so did the
other boys' fathers who ran track with me ("no, Jamie, they don't ride
horses; some people call them that because they run so fast.").
"But why did he call you Chief, when your name's Art?"
Chief Kraft put his arm around Jamie, pulled him close, and with a smile,
said to me, "Everything is so new to Jamie and sometimes it's difficult to
understand what my job is and really the type of school he goes to. It is
so different than the one he went to for so many years. It is quite a
change for him, moving here with his mom, changing her name to mine, and
living in this house. It's pretty strange to him. He knows I work at the
university; I don't teach any classes but I carry a badge and a gun."
He gave Jamie a kiss on the forehead, saying, "It's because I'm in charge
of the all of the police men and women at the university, Honey, and my job
is to keep everyone safe."
"Whit will explain more to you won't you Whit?"
I nodded and it was then I noticed, the two of them standing side by side,
how much they looked like each other; tanned, dark hair, hazel eyes, and
slight frame, although the Chief was well muscled and stronger, and their
smiles were similar, but not quite. I'd think, if I didn't know better,
Chief Kraft was his real dad rather than his step-father. Perhaps it was
just my imagination since Scotty, who had no real love for dogs, always
said people and their dogs often looked alike. I didn't know, we didn't
have a dog. I wished we had a pony though!
"Jamie," I said softly, "we better get going and meet the rest of the guys
for breakfast."
When he stepped out of the arm of Chief Kraft and approached me, I
inadvertently, almost with loving reflex, reached out, and straightened out
his shirt collar. Chief Kraft and his mom smiled, but I blushed, realizing
what I'd done.
"Got your food service card?" his mom asked.
Jamie grinned and nodded and gave each of them a hug again.
As we started to leave, Chief Kraft gently placed his hand on my shoulder
and said, "I know you'll take good care of our Jamie and watch over him.
Don't let anything hurt him; he's pretty special!"
I looked back at him and responded seriously, with all of my heart and
soul, "I won't Chief Kraft; Jamie is pretty special to me too!"
We left the house, Jamie holding my hand, and half-skipping down the
sidewalk, happy to be with his best friend.
Chapter Three
"I felt the while a pleasing kind of smart.
The kiss went tingling to my panting heart.
When it was gone, the sense of it did stay;
the sweetness cling'd upon my lips all day,
like drops of honey, loth to fall away."
(John Dryden)
Loving to run,
Running to love
The walk to school that morning was the most pleasant, beautiful and
relaxing journey to school I ever had, all because of Jamie Long! He held
my hand and I held his and I didn't care who saw it or how they felt about
it! Just having him with me seemed to wipe away any worries or cares I had,
except caring for him. Knowing he was in the school building would make my
day much more enjoyable, fulfilling, and ripe with anticipation! I was
looking forward to Art class, Choir, lunch, and hopefully running with him.
That proposition, however, just might be a bit of a problem since we didn't
know if he wanted to, if Chief Kraft would let him (after all, we did have
somewhat of a sullied reputation as far as he was concerned we thought), or
if Coach Schroeder would think it wise.
The other three Horsemen were waiting for us in the cafeteria. We put our
back packs on a table and started through the self-serve line. Our
breakfasts are buffet style so we're allowed to pick and choose what we
wish and are charged a standard rate to our food service debit cards. It
makes it easy for the food service staff to fix a breakfast for us, but I
sort of pick and choose what days I want to eat at school. Today, I opted
for a small scoop of scrambled eggs, a couple of sausage links, a couple of
scoops of fresh fruit, a carton of orange yogurt, and a carton of one
percent milk.
Jamie, standing right behind me almost mimicked me in what I chose, except
for the sausage links. I asked him why no sausage, and he responded
quickly,
"I like sausage patties better; Grandpa Long says the links look like fried
dog peckers!"
"Fried what?" snorted Scottie almost dropping his tray.
"Peckers, but my cousins call them 'doggie dicks'."
Okay, I ate mine right away to get them off of the plate! The other three
Horsemen didn't take any; I guess the thought of munching on fried dog
peckers just didn't appeal to them either! We headed to our table, found a
seat, and sat down to enjoy our breakfast, I hoped! I really like orange
yogurt, so I opened mine and scooped up a spoonful, poked it my mouth, and
savored its taste as I swallowed it.
Jamie seemed a bit hesitant about trying his once he opened the container.
"You know what that is, Jamie?" I asked wondering if he'd ever had any
before.
He nodded, "Clabbered milk!"
"What's 'clabbered milk?'" asked Chris, full of curiosity but also just a
touch of angst, hoping it wasn't something really, really yucky that might
make him barf, especially after the dog pecker remarks! Chris has a
particularly touchy stomach sometimes; like, if he'd break through the
toilet tissue while wiping his ass and it was a bit sticky, he just might
toss his cookies!
"This stuff!" Jamie answered and popped a spoonful in his mouth.
His eyes widened, he withdrew the spoon, and Chris prepared to bolt from
the table just in case Jamie might consider spewing! I didn't think Jamie
had that "I think I'm going to throw up look" on his face, but, hell, you
never know and Chris wasn't going to take any chances, so I asked him if
there was a problem with the yogurt.
Jamie licked his lips and shook his head no; "I never had it with orange
stuff in it. It doesn't taste like the kind Grandma Long makes. This is
better although hers is pretty good too. Sometimes she'd put pears or
peaches she'd canned in it and once in a while some sweet cocoa."
Chris settled back down at the table, a relieved look on his face.
"Just where did you live, Jamie," Derrick asked, "where people called
yogurt 'clabbered milk' and made it themselves?"
"On a farm," Jamie answered, "in Caudry, Missouri with Momma and Grandma
and Grandpa Long. It wasn't a very big farm I don't think, but we raised
everything we needed. We had a couple of milk cows, some beef cows, pigs,
chickens, and some ducks and geese. We had a really, really big garden and
some apple, pear, cherry, and peach trees in the orchard," as he finished
the yogurt and started on the fruit and eggs.
"Grandma Long used to make biscuits and sausage gravy for breakfast
sometimes," he said with an almost wistful yearning in his voice. "They
were so yummy even without the sausage gravy with just butter and grape
jelly on them. Sometimes we had oatmeal with thick cream on it and
sometimes we had corn bread and syrup."
Jamie paused, sorting out a particularly red, plump strawberry from his
fruit and plopping it into his mouth before continuing!
"Grandpa Long always said we didn't need a lot of money to live good! Momma
worked in a lawyer's office in town so that helped, I think!"
With that remark, the rest of us just sat quietly, remembering how much we
had and took for granted, while our new friend, my boyfriend I was
beginning to think, had much less but was just, if not more, happy!
"Is that where you went to school before coming here?" Chris asked breaking
the silence.
Jamie nodded, cleaning up the last of the fruit on his plate. "I rode a
school bus to town to the high school and got on another smaller bus that
took me to my school in another town not far away. My new daddy said I
wouldn't have to do that here and he was right!"
"Jamie," I said, slipping my arm around his waist, "I think Chief Kraft
should be called just "dad" or "daddy" since he's not really your "new
daddy" now you're here with us and he's married your mom. Right?"
Jamie grinned, pleased we'd think it was okay for him to do so, but added,
"That'd be nice; I never knew my real daddy so I saw Art Kraft as my 'new
daddy.'"
Our conversation was interrupted by Coach Schroeder stopping at our table.
"Did the Horsemen have a good run this morning?" he asked.
Scottie smiled and replied, "Sure did Coach and we plan on running again in
the morning, but," and he stopped.
"But, what, Scottie?"
Chris piped up instead; "Would it be okay with you if we asked Jamie if he
wanted to run with us?"
Man, that brought Jamie to instant attention, eyes wide, big shit-eating
grin across his face, and opened his mouth as if to say something, but I
interrupted, saying, "Only if he wants too and if his dad would agree!"
Jamie was damned near beside himself, he was so excited to think we WANTED
HIM to run WITH US! "I'll ask my dad," he chirped up.
"I already spoke with Dean Kraft earlier this morning," Coach Schroeder
interjected, "and he thinks it'd be a great idea, if you boys don't mind."
"We don't mind," we all chimed.
Coach Schroeder's announcement concerning speaking with Dean Kraft struck a
happy chord with all of us, especially me! Jamie was just as excited, but
I could also see some confusion on his face. As we left the cafeteria,
Jamie and I walked to his room and locker, leaving the others to find their
way to their own. Jamie stopped in the hall near his locker, pulled me
close so he wouldn't have to speak too loud, but I also suspect he just
liked having me close to him; I know I did!
"Whit," he asked breathing softly in my ear, causing my lower section to
become instantly alert and standing at attention, "why did Coach Schroeder
call my daddy, 'Dean'? His name is 'Art!'"
I had to take a leak, so I motioned him to follow me to the boys' restroom
down the hall. While we stood at the urinal, cocks out, me pissing almost
straight up so I had to bend the little soldier in order to hit the urinal,
and him not, just holding it and looking at mine, I tried to explain why.
He started to chub a little, his foreskin beginning to retract, viewing my
fading erection, so I said,
"Jamie, pay attention to what I'm saying and stop licking your lips and
staring at my cock!"
"But I like looking at it! I'd really like to touch it but it'd be wrong
to do here in the toilet. Some other boy might get mad and punch me!"
Maybe that's happened before I wondered? Who was I to talk, I could barely
keep my hands on my own and off of his, much less my eyes. I just wanted
to snuggle up to him, lick and kiss him all over, and taste the soft, warm
flesh of his foreskin before slipping my mouth over the hardening shaft and
bring him to a mouth-filling explosive orgasm! But that wasn't to happen
here and I didn't know if it would ever happen! What I wanted and what I
got may be two different things, but I doubted it! I resolved to take my
time and let Jamie begin to love me the way I was starting to love him.
It took some doing, but I was able to finally get him to understand his dad
and Derrick's dad were "Deans," as in a title like Mr. or Mrs. and only had
something to do with their jobs and not their names. It finally dawned on
him when I said, "It's like calling a minister 'reverend,' okay?"
Jamie nodded his head, thought a minute as he slowly stroked his stiffening
cock, and replied, "Daddy's still the Chief' too, isn't he?"
"Yep; put your cock away before you can't," I said with a snicker.
Jamie looked down at mine saying, "You're getting stiff again, too, Whit."
By god I was so I tucked it into my pants and Jamie sort of hunched over so
he could clear the zipper in his and put his own stiffness to bed, gave
each other a hug and headed for our first classes.
During Art class that day, Jamie stayed in his usual place, near the front
and close to a window, but during Choir, he asked the choir director if he
could sit next to me and the teacher approved it. After all, we're both
tenors!
Our walk home after school was nice, just the two of us, young men in love,
I thought or at least I hoped, holding hands, talking about school, running
in the morning, and just anything that came into mind. We had to stop
several times for Jamie to investigate something of importance; once a
bird's nest in a low lying shrub and another time the way the sunlight
backlit an oak tree. He could always find something that seemed to
fascinate him, studying it as if he was committing what he saw to memory!
At his door, I wanted to kiss him, his lips were so inviting, light pink,
moist from his tongue, a quirky almost inviting smile on his face, and a
twinkle in his eye. Man, Jamie Long could turn me on so fast it was
unbelievable! I refrained, but I wasn't certain how long I could hold out!
His goodnight call came at the same time, nine o'clock, which I figured
must be his bedtime or at least time to get ready for bed, but it ended
much differently.
"Whit," he asked, "see you in the morning?"
"Yeah, Jamie; I'll drop by at six."
"Whit?"
"Yeah, Jamie!"
"Goodnight!"
"Goodnight, Jamie!"
"Whit?"
"What, Jamie?"
"I love you!"
My heart damned near burst with joy at his words! I so much, at that moment
in time, wanted to hold him, kiss him, feel his warmth against me, and
indulge myself in the pleasure of just being with Jamie Long, but distance
and the hour prevented it, so I responded,
"I love you too, Jamie," adding, "and always will!"
He was waiting, sitting on the front steps, dressed in tee-shirt, running
shorts, and running shoes. The first thing I noticed, after his bright
welcoming smile, he didn't have a jock on and the end of his pecker poked
out from the right leg of his shorts. Did you ever walk by a bakery or a
candy shop where they made fresh candy and fudge and the aroma of something
sweet and delectable wafted out into the air, making your mouth water and
desire to consume whatever making that smell just about overwhelm you?
Looking at Jamie Long did that to me!
He was up and on his feet quick as a cat and had his arms wrapped around
me, hugging me tight in greeting! I was learning Jamie was a very tactile
person, seeking and enjoying the closeness of body contact, hugging,
touching, having an arm around me or mine around him, holding my hand, and
I loved it! I would've continued the hug, but we had to run to school to
join the other three.
Breaking free, I hollered with a laugh, "Let's go, Jamie," and we took off
jogging down the street, heading for school. He kept pace with me, talking
about how his daddy really was happy about him running with me and the guys
and how happy his momma and daddy were I was his friend. I was pretty
damned happy myself to have Jamie for my friend as well!
They were waiting for us and after a brief, "good morning" and a couple of
fist bumps, Scottie outlined our run.
"We're going to run neighborhoods this morning," he said quietly, "since
Jamie is new and we don't want to over stress his legs."
It was the nice way Scottie had in saying things that made him a great
track leader. He was telling us we didn't know how well Jamie could run
and we didn't want to embarrass him if he couldn't keep up, so pace
ourselves. In the back of mind, I didn't think we needed to worry, but I've
been wrong many times in my young life!
Off we went; up through campus, back into the city streets and avenues near
campus, running so we faced traffic if we should meet any. As we ran,
Jamie chattered, asking questions, wanting to stop, but didn't, to look at
something he found interesting, asking me if we could walk that way home
sometime to see the "whatever" again. Before we knew it our run was over
and Jamie seemed no worse for wear.
Jamie and I jogged the back to his house and I told him I'd be back down to
pick him up for breakfast after he showered. I did, and our day began as
another delightful day with Jamie ever since -yesterday?
We ran all week and not once did Jamie falter! In fact, he seemed to
delight in running and didn't seem to get winded or wear out! On Friday,
Scottie announced we'd run the cross country route we ran for home races
and for track practice; from campus, down to the county park, along the
Little Poplar River (which we all called "Little Pee Creek"), and circling
around, back to campus along another jogging path. Ordinarily, the freshmen
cross country team ran the junior varsity length of just a little over two
miles and the varsity team ran a little over three miles, but today,
Scottie decided we'd run the varsity length.
We ran and visited, as we had all week, learning Jamie had numerous
cousins, his mother was the youngest of four - three older brothers; he did
have some girl cousins, but most of his cousins were boys and older than he
was; he didn't like the school he'd gone to because "some of the kids were
mean and say nasty things," and "another boy would poop his pants during
lunch time when he was served something he didn't want to eat," and
"teacher would make him sit on the pot before lunch," but "It didn't do any
good," Jamie said in exasperation as we ran.
He didn't have physical education like we did or ever shower naked with
people he didn't know; the nearest movie theatre was in a neighboring town;
he didn't have a cell phone or a laptop like he had now and his new daddy
was teaching him how to use both.
As we jogged along the Little Pee River, Jamie matter-of factly- stated
there were only three of his cousins who had a bigger cock than he did.
"I can believe that," muttered Chris, "you're hung like a horse!" but we
kept running.
I was fearful Jamie would ask, "You want to see?" I already had a hard-on
from earlier and now, watching his cock flopping about, up and down, back
and forth, in his running shorts as his legs and feet hit the ground didn't
make it wilt any. I really should tell him to wear his jock strap, but
really didn't want his magnificence contained!
When Jamie asked why we called the river the "Little Pee" and Scottie
explained it, he thought it was hilarious once he put it altogether. Once
decided in his mind, Jamie explained his older cousins would take him
skinny dipping in the river that wasn't too far from his grandparents farm;
"that's going swimming without any underwear on," he advised,
knowledgeably, not certain, I'm sure, we'd understand the term; of course
we did, but acted enlightened anyway!
"But you had to watch out!" he announced seriously.
I fully expected him to say one of his older cousins would step up behind
him, bend him over and shove a hard pecker-boat up his butt hole heading
for a boat landing or port, or put him on his knees and ask him to open his
sweet lips and make like a large-mouth bass and take the bait, but he
didn't. Instead he told us how sometimes the little sunfish would try to
nibble on his pecker as they swam.
"We go fishing there too," he continued, "and catch some big catfish. My
cousins would clean them and give some to us and keep the rest, except I
always got to keep the ones I caught, but if I caught more than they did, I
shared 'cause they always shared with me. Grandma would deep fry the pieces
of catfish and we'd have catfish and hush puppies."
"You ate baby dogs?" squealed Chris, clearly aghast and gagging at the
thought!
"No, you silly goose," Jamie jibed, "they're made out of corn meal and
really, really good. I don't think little puppies would taste so good."
After a few more strides, he added, evidently thinking it through, out of
the blue, "Puppies are too cute to eat anyway."
About a block from school, where we intended to stop, Scottie said, "Let's
see who can get to school first!"
I whispered to Jamie, "Run as fast as you can and I'll catch up!"
We thought he had a rocket up his ass! Jamie beat all of us by twenty
yards or more, jumping up and down, giggling, laughing, pleased with
himself, shouting, "I won!"
He most certainly did! Jamie wasn't the only one pleased with the outcome;
we knew we had a real runner on our team!
Over the weekend, Jamie and I chatted back and forth over the phone, but
didn't get together, much to my regret! His mom and step-dad took him
shopping, had some errands to run, and go to church. Sunday was a day, it
seemed, for family type of activities in his household, although I did know
none of his step-dad's or his mom's family were in the area. I did give him
a call Sunday night to remind him of track practice Monday after school.
Coach Schroeder made it very clear to the Four Horsemen, Jamie was to be at
practice and we were going to make certain he was.
Monday, on our walk to school, he was just as excited as I was about track
practice starting. He'd been running the past week with us and, from his
reaction and participation, just loved it! Of course, having him with me
either running, walking, or on the phone made me feel pretty damned good
too! We both chattered about how much fun cross country track would be for
him running with the Horsemen.
"Can we have five Horsemen?" Jamie asked as we neared the school door.
"I don't think so," I answered carefully after thinking how I was going to
answer the question without crushing him. His face fell at my answer, but I
continued, "There were only the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse mentioned
in the Bible, but there was no mention of the strongest and fastest horse
of all time!"
His face brightened, his eyes full of wonder and excitement again. "How
fast?" he asked.
"Oh, faster than greased lightning," I responded, using one of my father's
phrases.
"Maybe faster than pig shit shooting down a drain spout?" he fired back.
"Jamie," I snorted with a laugh, "where in hell did you hear that?"
"Well," he began in his slow, almost southern drawl, "when I was young, my
grandpa wasn't feeling very well, but he still had chores to do and I used
to help him. We just finished gathering eggs- did you know hens peck the
devil out of your fingers when you stick your hands under them to take
their eggs?"
Not waiting for an answer, luckily since I figured anybody but Jamie
sticking his hand or anything else he had attached to his body near my
pucker would probably have a bloody nose, he continued, "Anyway, I heard
grandpa say, 'Jamie hold the egg basket, I got bad tummy cramps,' and then
said something like 'dammit' or something like that and POOPED HIS PANTS,
standing right there in the barnyard!"
We both roared in laughter but he wasn't done and I don't think his grandpa
was either.
"So, I says, 'cause I didn't want him mad at me, 'Grandpa, couldn't you
hold it?' and he said, "Jamie, honey, it would've been like trying to stop
pig shit shooting down a drain spout with a teaspoon!"
By the time he finished, we were outside his room and locker and I didn't
have a chance to ask him what the consistency of pig shit was since I
wasn't a farm boy or ever saw a pig shit, for that matter. Frankly, it
wasn't high on my list of priority things to do in life!
As we parted to go to our classes, Jamie asked, "Whit, what is this most
amazing horse called?"
"Pegasus," I replied over my shoulder, "I'll show you in Art class."
Jamie's first class of the day was reading and reading was the major source
of his disability; that and math, plus being insecure, an introvert,
bashful, slow in putting sentences together sometimes, especially if he was
excited or frightened. I'd bet he'd fuss all through reading class and I'd
probably regret not telling him more, but if he had problems reading, I
could help him, if his folks approved.
I checked out a book on Greek Mythology with stories and several pictures
of Pegasus in it from the library on the way to Art class. When I opened
it and showed him the pictures of the winged horse, Jamie was just all
agog! He asked me to read him the stories, but I begged off, promising to
come over after supper when our homework was done, if my folks and his said
okay.
During physical education we were introduced to the first student teacher
of the school year, Mr. Delaney. He would also be helping Coach Schroeder
with cross country track. For some reason, he struck me as a person who
really didn't like kids. Mr. Delaney said very little during class, just
watched. We heard, actually Derrick heard, Delaney had been a state
champion cross country runner in high school, but didn't participate in the
university team the whole three and a half years he was in college. When
he did speak, it was with a gruff voice, with a not very friendly
inflection!
The other three Horsemen agreed with me and thought it odd he hadn't been
out for track while at the university. We thought once a runner always a
runner, at least until they got old- like thirty or so! All Jamie said
was, "I don't like him; he looks at me funny and I think he's mean!"
During track practice Coach Schroeder said he was going to have us run the
cinder track at school for this week, so he could help evaluate our running
style and make suggestions. There was about twenty-five or so out, so it
would take some time. It also helped determine if everyone had the staying
power to remain out for cross country.
After the first day of track as Jamie and I walked home, he asked if he
could see where I lived. It wasn't far out of the way, so we walked to my
house. We stood out front while he looked it over very carefully, smiled,
and said "thanks" before we started on our way to his house. He stopped
every time we crossed a street or turned a corner (fortunately, there
weren't many) and looked back. I had a faint idea what was going through
his head; he was forming a map in his head from my house to his and could
follow it back once he had it stored away!
At his house I told him to check with his folks to see if I could come over
after supper and give me a call if it was okay. I'd bring the book with me
and we'd read the stories and look at the pictures. As I said goodbye, I
did something I'd wanted to do ever since I met him; I leaned over and
kissed him on the lips. It wasn't a very passionate kiss, just kind of a
peck on the lips! It surprised him, but not enough to stop him from kissing
me back!
That simple, short kiss electrified my very being, cementing me to Jamie
Long for life! Never, never have I felt so happy, so humble, so in love and
from the big grin on his face, Jamie was affected the same way! With a
wave and a skip, I jogged home just delirious with happiness, my heart full
and beating with the rapidity of a young lover. I kissed him and he kissed
me back! Could life be any better than this?
Jamie called shortly after I arrived at home letting me know his mom
approved, so I said I'd be over after dinner, around seven or so, and
reminded him to get his homework done. He laughed and said he would,
adding, just before he rang off, "I love you, Whit!"
"I love you, too, Jamie!"
I hustled around, practiced the piano, did my homework, asked my folks if I
could go over to Jamie's after dinner, assuring them Jamie's folks
approved, and promised to be home around nine. Putting the Greek mythology
book in my backpack, tucked in a flashlight, just in case, and started off.
It would be fairly light out until nine, but it never hurt to carry a
light. I'd rather be looking like a dork, carrying a flashlight, than
decorating the front grill of some truck or car who's driver didn't see me.
I rang the doorbell and Jamie answered, standing there in the open door,
all giggly, happy, and so fucking beautiful! His mom stepped up behind
him, gave me a nice smile when I said "hello," and followed Jamie down a
short hall to the family room. I'd never been beyond looking in at the
foyer from the lawn or porch before so I had no idea they even had a family
room. It was toward the back of the house and overlooked their fenced-in
backyard.
Jamie led me to a couch, I plopped my butt on it, opened the backpack, took
out the book, set the backpack aside, and leaned back, ready to open it and
read. Jamie sat beside me and with a questioning look on his face and
seeing my nodding answer of approval, snuggled up beside me, lifting my arm
over his head and shoulder so he could rest his head on my shoulder or
breast while I read. I breathed deeply of him, smelling of boy, sweetness,
a touch of cologne, and to me, damned erotic and lovely! I so much wanted
to touch him, run my hands and fingers across his bare skin, feeling his
nipples, lightly stroking his tummy, and finally reach down under his jeans
and underwear until I encountered his stiffness and wrap my hand around it,
if I could; but I resisted, remaining satisfied, if not slightly
frustrated, with the contact we presently had!
He looked up at me, grinned, and breathed just as deeply of me, then really
settled in, completely at ease resting on me, but anxious to hear the
stories of Pegasus, the Winged Horse. I opened the book to the section I'd
previously marked; the first page displayed a picture of Pegasus, white,
large feathered wings extended, hooves darker than the body, legs angled as
if he was galloping across the sky assisting the actions of his wings, so
very elegant and graceful in every sense, soaring through the sky,
Bellerophon on his back, legs locking him in place on the stallion's back,
wrapped around his stallion, ready to do battle or journey in royal
fashion, speeding onward to whatever destined by the gods!
We both looked at the picture; I tried to describe what I saw and Jamie,
artist that I now know he is from art class, traced, with his finger, the
various parts of the picture, the clouds, Bellerophon, and finally,
Pegagus!
"Beautiful, isn't he!" he exclaimed softly.
"Just like you, Jamie," I responded, looking into his face and then his
eyes when he looked up away from the picture. He blushed, smiled with
embarrassment, pleased how I felt about him. When he didn't move his head,
I took a chance, knowing his mother and possibly is step-father were not
far away, and moved my lips to his, pressing against them, opening just a
bit to allow my tongue to gently caress his soft, warm, moist lips in every
declaration of love I could muster through this gesture. The only problem
was, the action so inflamed me, the sensation shot right to my cock,
bringing it tight up against my belt, but remained confined in my
jeans. When I saw him squirm, reach down and adjust his own bulge, I knew
the kiss had the same effect on him!
We separated, our mouths only, he scooched up as tight against me as he
possibly could, while I read of how the Spring of Hippocrene or the Horse
Spring came to be and how the Constellation Pegasus was named. I told him
it was a collection of stars and I thought it must be quite magnificent to
be named so.
"Can we see it?" Jamie asked.
"I'm not very good at astronomy," I admitted, "but there is an astronomy
professor in the Science Department at the university who could help us, I
think."
This necessitated a discussion of what Astronomy was and how it related to
the stars, but I really didn't go into depth, not wanting to confuse him.
He was satisfied there was a group of stars called "Pegasus," I thought he
was beautiful, and someday we'd talk to someone who knew more about it and
could show it to us.
I heard Jamie's mother, evidently answering a question from someone, say,
"The boys are in the family room, Jack."
I had no idea who "Jack" was but when Chief Kraft poked his head in the
door, I had a pretty good idea. This guy has more names than Campbell's?
has soups!
"Hi, Daddy," Jamie said lifting his head from my breast, "we're reading
about Pegasus, the Winged Horse. Whit says that's me when I run!"
Chief Kraft smiled in such a warm and loving way at Jamie, responding, "I'm
sure you are," and left us alone.
We continued reading how Belleraphon and Pegasus were on the emblem of the
British Airborne Forces in World War II and how Pegasus was used as a
symbol of wisdom, fame, and poetry. When I finished, around eight thirty,
I heard a soft snoring noise, causing my breast to sort of rumble where
Jamie's head lay, warm against me. He rested in innocent slumber, safely
on the breast of one who loved him deeply; he was one tired young stallion
after school all day, track practice, and now our reading session!
I held the book on my lap and secured Jamie to me with my free arm and
hand, cradling his head on my shoulder and breast so he wouldn't slip from
me. It felt so right, feeling his breath entering and leaving his chest in
a rhythmic, relaxed pattern as he slumbered, his warmth and closeness
comforting me, but I knew it had to end; I needed to go home and he needed
to go to bed.
I folded up the book and was about to wake him when Chief Kraft appeared in
the family room doorway, saw us, and walked over.
Smiling at Jamie, he said softly, "Tired, isn't he?"
"Yes, Sir; track can make you real tired, especially the first few days
until you get used to it!"
He nodded, almost knowingly, still smiling and for the first time, I
noticed how much Jamie's smile resembled his. Maybe Scotty was right, but
in this case, I was beginning to think strange thoughts and none of them
made sense! After pausing a moment, he said, looking deeply into my eyes,
"You know, Whit, Jamie worships the ground you walk on! His mother and I
can only hope you feel the same way about him. Jamie has some special
learning problems to deal with and has come to grips and acceptance of a
personal one as well. He really needs a close, close friend!"
My eyes teared up, my throat seemed to clench in sorrow or fear, perhaps
both; I was so overcome with emotion. I struggled to speak, to answer Chief
Kraft, wanting to tell him how much I loved Jamie Long, yet fearful he'd
forbid me from ever seeing him again, if he knew I was gay and loved Jamie
in that sense!
Mrs. Kraft walked in, frowned, seeing my distress, walked over, placed her
hand on my shoulder, saying, "It's okay, Whit, we know how you feel about
Jamie and he feels the same way about you, so feel free to speak to us,
okay?"
I choked out, "Chief Kraft, Mrs. Kraft, there's nothing I wouldn't do for
Jamie! I think he's the kindest, gentlest, most beautiful person in the
world, and I'm so lucky to have him for my best friend. I'd never let
anyone hurt him and would give up my life for him! Jamie is like a gift
from heaven for me and ?."
With that I just had to stop, so choked with emotion I just couldn't
continue and Jamie was starting to shift around, getting ready to wake.
Chief Kraft smiled a little more, nodding his head, as if assessing the
situation, and reaching a conclusion before speaking softly, but kindly to
me,
"You really love him, don't you, Whit?"
I nodded.
"His mother and I think of him as precious gift as well; one I've often
thought since he joined us here I really don't deserve. I just want him to
be happy and safe!"
The tears really flowed then, not from shame, not from fear, but because I
loved Jamie Long and didn't care who knew, now his mom and step-father knew
and were not angry, chasing me from the house and forbidding me to be with
him. I knew life would be so difficult for me without him by my side or
near me!
Chief Kraft, in a side I never realized existed in him, wiped my face and
eyes with his handkerchief, saying, "Don't worry, Whit, we understand and
know Jamie will always be safe with you and loved, perhaps more than we
might realize!"
Jamie opened his eyes at that moment, looked up into mine and smiled, and
then became aware of his folks presence, turned his head, and grinned at
them.
"Jamie," I said, "it's time for me to go home and you to go to bed, okay?"
He nodded, extracted himself from my arms, stretched, yawned and stood up.
I stood as well, gave him a hug, told him goodnight, gathered up the book,
and my backpack and headed for the door. Chief Kraft accompanied me and
asked if I needed a ride home, but I told him no since it wasn't far and I
had a light. He seemed skeptical, but he also realized I knew my way
around. Hey, any kid that could run around campus in his underwear should
have more balls than just in his underwear!
Our walk to school the next morning was full of happy chatter concerning
the stories of Pegasus, running cross country, and how he loved to run and
used to when he lived with his grandparents. This, all while holding hands
as we walked, and I loved it!
Cross Country practice was on the cinder track again; Coach Schroeder
worked with some of the new runners on the other side of the track and our
student teacher, Mr. Delaney, stood on the opposite side, singling out
first one and then another boy, barking commands at them, brusquely
ordering them to come to the side where he would talk to them, most often
in a very aggressive manner. In a couple of cases the boys returned to the
track their faces smeared with tears. Jamie would run closer to me each
time it happened, seeking security and comfort in my presence!
"He doesn't like me!" Jamie would say. "He scares me!"
I made up my mind if Mr. Delaney called Jamie to the side, he'd have two of
us to talk to. I'd made a promise to Chief Kraft and I intended to keep
it. A person can be hurt mentally and emotionally as well as physically,
and I'd try to save Jamie from each!
Neither Jamie nor I got called out until the third day of practice. Coach
Schroeder announced it was our last day on the cinder track; starting the
next day we'd be running on one of several routes the teams used.
About our third lap around the track, Mr. Delaney, barked out, "Long, get
over here!" as we ran by. Jamie almost skidded to a stop and I did too!
One look at Jamie's face showed me he was terrified! Tears were beginning
to well up in his eyes and he started to shake.
"Long, I said, get over here; NOW!" growled Delaney aggressively loud.
Jamie reached for my hand and I grabbed it!
"Why is he mad at me?" Jamie began sobbing.
"I don't know," was all I could say and gripped his hand tighter.
"I just want to run with my friends," Jamie pleaded. "Whit, don't let him
make me leave; I want to run with you and the Horsemen!"
Looking away from Jamie, I saw Delaney marching toward us like a little
general full of himself! Anger on his face and determination in his
stride, I thought then Jamie had every reason to be fearful, because this
man was going to say something mean and toss Jamie's ass off of the track
team! Delaney may have bitten off more than he could chew, I thought.
"What's the problem, Mr. Delaney," I asked calmly, still holding Jamie's
hand.
"This doesn't concern you," he snorted, waving his hand, "take off and run
if you can get the little queer to let go of your hand!"
There was Delaney's first mistake!
"Don't leave me, Whit," Jamie pleaded.
"I won't, Jamie!" and looked around, noticing the other three Horsemen and
much of the squad were gathering around us.
"Oh, yes you will," sneered Delaney.
That was his second mistake!
"No, I won't, Mr. Delaney. Whatever you have to say to my boyfriend, you
can say to me!"
"I'll be damned if this school is going to be represented by homos holding
hands on the track team. Both of you report to the showers!" he snarled.
That was his third and final mistake!
Chapter Four
"Ride on! Rough-shod if need be, smooth-shod if that will do,
but ride on! Ride on over all obstacles and win the race!"
(Charles Dickens - David Copperfield, 28)
Like Father,
Like Son
Scotty stepped forward as I led Jamie to the side, bringing him close to my
chest, hugging him, kissing him lightly on the forehead as he sobbed his
heart out!
"Mr. Delaney," he began, "Did I understand you correctly when you said you
didn't want any 'homos' running track and representing our school?"
"Right!" Delaney responded, almost strutting he seemed so proud and sure of
himself! "Can't stand faggots and those two definitely are!"
"Well," Scotty said with a shrug, "I guess you don't want us then,"
reaching out to Derrick, grabbing his hand, "let's leave Honey."
I don't think either of them are gay, but what they were doing was for our
sake and definitely a challenge to Delaney and his perverted view of the
world! Derrick grinned, flipped Delaney the bird, and the two of them
walked toward us. The rest of the squad, there were only fifteen of us left
of the original twenty that went out, gathered listening to the exchange
and Delaney's rant about gays, began following Scotty and Derrick!
Chris just couldn't resist the moment as he walked by, jabbed Delaney in
the belly with his finger, said with a smile, "You just let your ass
overload your mouth you homophobic prick!"
That remark seemed to enrage Delaney, turning him into a mad man, and he
did something we never expected from an adult and a student teacher
besides, and were completely unprepared for! He quickly hit Chris's face
with a couple of really hard jabs of his fists, started screaming
obscenities at him, grabbed Chris' shirt and an arm and literally threw him
across a players bench alongside of the track and onto the ground behind
it! Chris's face was bleeding and he was moaning and groaning, doubled up
on the ground!
Delaney started to go after him to deliver more blows to his body, but was
stopped when Scotty screeched, "You dirty son-of-a-bitch!" and piled on
Delaney but was promptly shrugged off and punched a couple of times before
Derrick shouted, "Get him boys!" and led the attack by the team on their
student teacher!
Delaney was a pretty strong man for a former track runner, but he evidently
worked out with weights since he started swinging and punching, knocking
boys down, who bounded back and attacked again! They outnumbered him and
soon had him swinging indiscriminately! I thought it wouldn't be long until
they dropped him, I hoped!
Coach Schroeder was running toward us from across the field, toward the
melee, blowing his whistle hoping to stop the battle; from the parking lot
near the track I saw two uniformed campus police officers running toward
the scrambled pile of punching, howling, cursing, kicking boys!
Suddenly, a hand appeared on my shoulder and Chief Kraft asked, "Is Jamie
okay?"
I nodded he was, wondering where the hell he came from, and Chief Kraft
waded into the middle of the brawl! I could hear sirens in the distance
and also could see several more campus police leaving their cars and racing
toward us!
The boys' anger and penchant for revenge couldn't be soothed or diminished
by the presence of a few police officers, Coach Schroeder, or Chief Kraft!
As soon as one bloody kid was pulled away from Delaney, another bloody boy
would leap in, engaging the miscreant, assisting his fellow track team mate
in the assault, screaming in anger, punching, kicking, eager for blood, to
be bloodied, seeking vengeance, and justice! It soon became a matter for
the officers, rather than protect the boys from Delaney's menacing and
punishing blows, to protect Delaney from the angry mob! Those track boys
were out for payback, and fuck anybody who tried to stop them!
Jamie had ceased his crying, turned to watch the battle, yet held on to me
tight. There was, I thought, just the slightest of smiles on his
face. Then, he giggled!
"What's so funny?" I asked as the battle was beginning to wind down.
"I pushed the button," he said softly, "and my daddy came!"
One of the officers was leaning over Chris and I could hear more sirens
coming into the parking lot. An EMT leaped from the first one, opened the
gate, and two ambulances drove toward the fight.
Shit, I'd forgotten all about Jamie's panic or GPS locator button he wore
either hooked to his running shorts or tucked away in his pants pocket. I'd
gotten so accustomed to it, it simply became part of him each day! Hell, I
never thought in a million years he'd ever use it, but he did today; no
wonder help came so fast!
"So he did," I acknowledged, whispering in his ear before giving him a kiss
on the forehead, "so he did!"
Chief Kraft was shouting at Delaney, still thrashing and swinging, not only
at the occasional boy who broke loose from the officer trying to corral
him, but the police as well. The Chief and two officers were trying to
subdue Delaney, but he was having none of it. Finally, Chief Kraft shouted,
"Dammit, stop fighting us or we'll mace you!"
Derrick, bloodied nose, cut face, torn shirt, shorts ripped off during the
fight and leaving him clad in his jock strap and track shoes, pulled away
from the campus police office, a lady I might add, raced toward Delaney and
with a well-placed kick with his track shoes, landed a solid blow to
Delaney's crotch and baby makers, bringing forth a loud, painful, keening;
"E E E E E E E e e e e." diminishing until Delaney was slumped over, all
the fight kicked out of him, literally!
"That works much better, Chief Kraft!" declared Derrick and walked back
toward his track mates, his bare ass cheeks flexing with each step. I have
to admit, Derrick did have a fine looking ass and he didn't seem a bit
reluctant to return to the young female officer who'd detained him
previously!
Everything pretty well quieted down at that point; the police had plenty of
backup, as if any was needed now, the EMT's were checking out the boys,
treating injuries from their triage kits as needed, and clucking their
tongues. There were bloody noses, knuckles skinned and bleeding, eyes
starting to blacken, bruises forming on faces, ribs, stomachs, and, in most
cases shirts or short were torn or ripped off completely. Someone decided
Chris needed to be transported to the hospital for a checkup since he
seemed to be the one most seriously injured. I hoped my older brother was
on duty in the ER; he'd make certain Chris was examined well and taken care
of!
I overheard Chief Kraft tell one of the officers to transport Delaney, who
now wasn't as scrunched over as previously but still just as mouthy, to the
county lockup and charge him with assault of a child, "Make that children,"
Chief Kraft added.
"The little shit hit me first!" bemoaned Delaney, pointing at Chris, now
being loaded on an ambulance gurney.
"You're a fucking liar," Scotty shouted, "he touched your stomach with his
finger and called you a homophobic prick and you hit him!"
"Calm down, Scotty," Chief Kraft said, "we'll get your statement in a few
minutes. I happened to see what happened and ?"
"So did I, Chief," one of the officers who arrived first, announced.
"So did I," shouted out about a dozen boys in chorus.
As the arresting officers were reading Delaney his rights, Chief Kraft
walked over to Jamie and me and as he neared, Jamie almost leaped from my
arms in his eagerness to get to his step-father.
"Oh, Daddy," he cried out, embracing his step-father, "you came when I
pushed the button!"
The Chief pulled him close into his arms, smoothed Jamie's hair softly with
his hand, and with a voice choked with emotion, yet comfort, replied, "Yes,
I did Jamie, and I always will!"
The Chief then looked at me, smiled, and continued, "Besides, you had Whit
to help protect you, didn't you?
Jamie nodded as his step-father asked, "Now boys," speaking to Jamie and
me, "what caused this brouhaha?"
Before I could answer, Jamie stepped away from his step-father, wiped his
eyes free of tears, and with anger in his voice, face flushed with outrage,
pointed an accusing finger at Delaney, and shouted,
"HE SAID BAD THINGS ABOUT WHIT AND ME!"
"What did he say, Jamie?" the Chief probed.
Not to be quieted until he had his say, Jamie, still pointing his finger as
if it were a dangerous weapon, waggled it threateningly and shouted, "HE
SAID 'NO HOMOS' OR 'FAGGOTS' COULD RUN TRACK AND TOLD US TO LEAVE AND
THAT'S A BAD THING TO SAY!"
Chief Kraft raised his eyebrows, he thought a moment, and said to the two
officers holding a handcuffed Delaney in custody, "You heard that; I think
we'll consider an additional charge of bias discrimination, if the States
District Attorney will approve."
Turning to the rest of the track boys, he said, "You boys need to get
cleaned up and dressed, after you give the officer who's watching you, your
parents name and phone number. We want them here when we take your
statements concerning this little dustup."
Then with a laugh, he added, "We can't let them see you running around with
your bare asses hanging out, now, can we?" looking at Derrick and a couple
of others.
I took a quick look around and the only other one with no shorts and only
in his jock strap was Bobby Petrosky. His best friend, Stan Wenzel, his
shorts only ripped up the side but his shirt gone, was standing with his
arm around Bobby as if comforting him. They were best friends and always
together so no one really noticed anything different in how they
stood. However, it looked to me Stan's arm was a little low and if I didn't
know better, had his finger stuck up Bobby's ass! He just grinned at me
and removed his hand after the Chief's speech. I knew then I wasn't
mistaken! Bobby certainly didn't object having a digit up his butt and I'd
bet it was probably smaller than something else Stan stuck up there every
now and then, although I'd never seen Stan or Bobby hard.
Coach Schroeder hustled us all into the locker room to get cleaned up and
dressed. "Hustled" probably isn't the right term to use, since Jamie and I
were the only ones dressed, not dirty, or bruised and battered and needed
no shelter from a prying public. Derrick on the other hand, wiggled his
butt at the female officer that had detained him and received a smack on
the shoulder from Scotty.
"But she's cute," came the retort from Derrick.
"She's fucking old enough to be your older sister, much older," groaned
Scotty quietly. "Would you fuck your sister?"
Derrick made a face like he'd swallowed a whole lemon and rattled his head
from side to side and wiped his face, smearing some blood across his
cheeks. His nose really hadn't stopped bleeding completely!
You might think it'd be a pretty subdued crowd as we entered the locker
room; just the opposite was the case! Our compatriots, our friends, our
teammates were a happy band, yakking, chattering, bragging about how each
one of them almost won the battle single-handedly, regaling how he or
another teammate connected a telling blow on the offending and deserving
homo-phob who beat their friend Chris. One after another proclaimed in no
uncertain terms how no one better "fuck with anyone on our team."
Occasionally, I could hear one or another say, "no, it doesn't hurt that
much," or "he couldn't fight worth a shit; just got in a lucky punch!"
The bravado was all boy talk, but good boy talk since it gave us all a
sense of belonging, a bonding of boys into a "real team," and for Jamie and
me, as a couple of now very out gay teens, a sense of belonging to that
team! As gay teenagers, an announced couple, it was important and gave us
not only legitimacy, but a sense of pride in our fellow students, no matter
their sexual preference!
Coach Schroeder, with Chief Kraft by his side, announced he'd visit with us
all before practice the next day after we'd given our statements to the
police, telling us to get dressed since our parents would be here
soon. Those of us who weren't injured seriously or bandaged badly could
take showers before coming out, if we wanted. Boys scurried around getting
dressed without showering first; mainly they were excited and wanted to
share their stories with the police, their parents, and the world for that
matter; they were hyped up and raring to go!
While all of this excitement and chatter was going on, Chief Kraft walked
up to our locker, sat down on the bench, got Jamie's attention, and said,
"Jamie, a policeman will ask you some questions pretty soon, okay?"
Jamie nodded he understood.
"You have to answer them truthfully, only what you saw and heard, nothing
else; okay?"
Again, Jamie nodded.
"Momma will be with you, but not me!"
"Why not, Daddy?"
"Because I'm the Chief and I'm in charge and your," he hesitated,
"step-father."
"Can Whit come with me?" Jamie said softly begging.
"No, Honey," Chief Kraft responded, "he will be with another policeman
answering the same questions."
Jamie looked at me seeking either support or reassurance, so I said
confidently, "Jamie, they just want to see if we tell the same story."
"Of course we will!" he snickered. "Why wouldn't we?"
Such innocence he expresses at times and other times he seems so worldly; I
just nodded acknowledging he was right and Jamie was happy again!
With that he announced, "Daddy, I'm going to shower; I stink!" and peeled
off his shirt and dropped his shorts after taking the GPS device from the
waistband and putting it in our locker. Shucking off his shoes, he grabbed
his body wash and shampoo.
Chief Kraft laughed and stood up. "I'll see you boys outside then," and
gave Jamie a light smack on his bare ass and left.
The locker room was pretty well cleared out, except for Jamie and me - and,
Stan Wenzel and Bobby Petrosky, who seemed to waiting for everyone to
leave, watching us closely as if wondering what our next move would be. It
was to the showers!
As usual, Jamie wanted me to shampoo his head and I obliged! Massaging his
soapy hair, listening to him hum happily, Bobby and Stan walked into the
shower room. It didn't take long, watching me shampoo Jamie's hair and his
cock start to lengthen just a little, for both of them to bone up. Their
four to five inch cut cocks were as hard as fence posts; not big fence
posts but quite respectable for our ages!
They seemed quite comfortable in our presence, giving me assurance the four
of us batted for the same team, only Bobby and Stan weren't out to the
public yet! With no one else around, they seemed to lose their shyness and
secretiveness, feeling secure we wouldn't reveal their secret. After Jamie
shampooed my hair (something he also loved to do), we washed up, rinsed and
left Stan and Bobby together in the shower room, carefully and erotically
washing each other. I knew why they wanted to stay and so did Jamie; he
grinned like a mule eating shit when we walked to our locker, his stiff
pecker pointing out front and leading the way!
We stood drying ourselves when we both heard a soft moan emanate from the
shower room. Jamie, alert and curious, just had to go look. He scampered
back, grinning, and motioning me to follow him.
"They're doing sex stuff!" he whispered excitedly.
I quickly followed him and when I peeked in the shower room door, Jamie
stood behind me, his head over my shoulder, his stomach and chest resting
on my back.
Sure enough; Stan had Bobby bent over head first, Stan's crotch up tight
against Bobby's ass, his chest resting on Bobby's back, and his ass
clenching and relaxing with each little thrust forward as he emptied his
boy cream in spurt after spurt into Bobby's rectum. No doubt about it,
folks; Bobby Petrosky was being well and truly fucked by Stan Wenzel and
was loving it!
I tried to back up so we could leave and get dressed, hindered somewhat by
Jamie's cock resting in my ass crack making me think of a summer sausage in
a hot dog bun! My movement slid it up and back down and part way up again,
stopping right at my twitching rosebud.
"Ooops!" Jamie said with a giggle and pulled away, but not before giving
the puckered twitchier a bit of a poke!
He was ready for it and I was anxious for it, but maybe this was too soon
in our relationship, I thought!
Jamie and I were separated as Chief Kraft said we would be. I was reunited
with my parents, taken to an empty room where an officer, one I was
familiar with since he was one of those who caught us after our run through
the residence hall, made certain I understood I was making the statement
voluntarily and my parents were present. He recorded that part with his
cell phone; recording the questioning of me with his body cam (all of the
campus cops had body cams now) while taking notes as well.
I told him, as he asked the questions, exactly what happened as I recalled
it. When I mentioned Delaney told "my boyfriend and me to leave" I took a
quick look at my parents to see their reaction. As crazy as it sounds they
merely smiled, as it they'd known this all along! Parents can be difficult
to understand sometimes, I think! The session didn't take very long and we
were soon on our way home.
Jamie called that night for his goodnight and, when I asked him about the
questions he was asked, convinced me we told the same story. At home, he
said, his mom and dad expressed how happy they were he had me for a
boyfriend. Parents can be so difficult to understand sometimes, I think,
but a warm, good feeling settled in my inner self knowing both sets of
parents approved of our relationship. Hearing that made me so happy I
damned near blew my load in my underwear right then and there. Well, after
we rang off, I did blow my load, but into a wad of toilet tissue!
The school, the next day, was just abuzz with talk about what happened at
the freshman cross country practice. Jamie and I, when asked about it, only
smiled and responded we were told not to talk about it. At track practice,
I thought Coach Schroeder would really be mad and punish us for what
happened, but all he said was he was disappointed our disagreement with
Mr. Delaney manifested itself in a fight, but he could understand why we
acted that way. He also made it very clear there are ways, other than
fighting, to settle disagreements, and he really didn't' expect it to
happen again!
Before he turned us loose to run, he informed us starting the next week on
Monday, Chief Kraft and a number of officers from the campus police force,
the city force, and sheriff's deputies, would be joining us, on their days
off, to run. The officers all expressed their desire to do so, through
Chief Kraft, and thought it'd not only keep them in shape, but would be
part of their wellness program.
"All of the officers who will be running with you, are former cross country
track runners and since I don't have a student teacher to help me, their
help will allow me to spend more time with the junior-varsity and varsity
teams."
A couple of eyebrows went up and Coach just laughed, "Don't worry; there
are some state champions and collegiate champions among them and they can
probably teach you more than I can!"
Chris was back in school Friday, black and blue eye and a couple of
stitches on his left cheek, but otherwise seemed no worse for wear. He did
have a couple of nasty bruises on his left side and leg where he was tossed
over the bench, but it didn't hinder his running that night after school.
Saturday was the University's first home football game and I asked Jamie if
he wanted to have a sleepover afterwards. Naturally he said yes, but he
decided he'd better ask his folks first. Chief Kraft thought he'd be pretty
busy that day so he felt relieved Jamie would be at my house, out of harm's
way, so to speak. If I had my way, part of me would be more than 'harmed,'
it'd be completely and accurately bred!
Jamie had never been to a college football game and, man, was he excited!
He really had no idea what was going to happen, other than what he'd seen
on television, deciding, "I'd really not like to play football; the guys
are so big and I think I'd get hurt!"
Our university made a real party out of game day, usually starting around
ten in the morning with game time around one in the afternoon. There'd be
tailgate parties in the stadium parking lot where alumni and fans
celebrated with cookouts, beer, sodas, and just general enjoyment. It was a
time to tell tales, laugh at jokes, eat a lot, and brag about days gone
by. The closer it got to game time, the conversations usually turned
serious; how many points the team would score; whose ass was going to get
kicked, and so on. Jamie and I'd make a circuit through the parking lot
and help ourselves to food and sodas, along with other stuff, but I knew
better than to go near "Frat House Row" on the west side of campus. It
could get a bit rowdy over there sometimes and I didn't want any part of
that and especially didn't want Jamie near it either!
The other three Horsemen met us near the campus school and we walked up to
the main campus where the party was in full swing! There were food booths
(some free and some you had to pay for (guess which ones we helped
ourselves to?) and, in front of one of the residence halls, a small band,
set up on the front steps was playing. There was a refreshment table set
up with soda and small sandwiches, cookies, and buttons with the university
colors (purple and old gold) and the mascot on it, all free, of course.
Some of the college students and adults wandering and gathering in the
street and sidewalk were dancing. The band was really quite good so the
five of us stood and watched while we munched our goodies and drank our
sodas. I noticed Jamie sort of moving, in place, in time with the music, so
I grabbed him by the arm, led him into the middle of the group dancing and
joined in. It was typical young people type dancing; not arms around each
other waltz type like older folks do, but just plain good dancing; feet,
arms and bodies moving in time with the music. God it was fun!
Jamie really got into it and, surprise to me, was really, really a good
dancer. His body seemed to flow with the music; his slender hips, lithe
frame, nimble feet, and delicate hands seemed to be directed toward
pleasing me, performing a dance not dissimilar to those mating dances one
sees birds or animals or natives in far off lands do when they wish to
attract a mate or trying to impress with their own beauty. His eyes fixed
on mine and I became lost in those hazel, deep-seeing, passionate windows
to the world! He placed his arms over my shoulders, wiggled his way close
to me as the music moved him until our crotches touched and began an
erotic, rhythmic, controlled action against me, telegraphing his deep
passion to my inner core! At that moment, at that very point in time, on
the sidewalk of the residence hall, there was no other care in the world
for either of us, other than for each other! The surrounding people, the
crowd, the game, the other Horsemen, were invisible to us, focusing our
barely contained passion, expressing our love for each other in public!
When the song ended, we both were sweating, oblivious to others until we
heard people clapping! We looked around and discovered we'd been the only
ones dancing! As strange as it seems, neither of us were embarrassed and
the Horsemen acted as if it happened every day. Well, it didn't and neither
did Chris's dance with one of the university girls. He bragged she wanted
him in her room for another "dance" but when she found out how old he was,
she dropped him like a rock!
The tailgate parties were next; people were always generous in sharing food
and drink. We loaded up on grilled burgers, brats, hot dogs, chips, and
sodas. Who could turn down a small band of handsome troubadours such as us?
My bladder was filling rapidly so I suggested we make a detour to some of
the porta-potties set up on the peripheral of the parking lot. I don't
think Jamie ever saw one before and when I explained what it was, he just
laughed!
"What's so funny?" queried Derrick.
After he calmed down, he said, "They're just like the outdoor biffy behind
Grandpa's barn we use when we're outside only these can be moved all over."
"What in the hell is a 'biffy'," Chris asked, guardedly.
"One of those," countered Jamie, pointing at the line of blue fiber-glassed
enclosures.
"Didn't you have indoor plumbing at your grandparents?" Derrick asked
uncertain of the possible answer.
Jamie giggled, "Sure we do, you silly goose , we just use the biffys when
we're outside;" thought a moment and with a warning tone, continued, "you
have to be very careful when you use them though."
Scotty was the one who asked why, although I think he was thinking if your
bare ass or boy danglers hung invitingly below the open-holed seat, perhaps
a barn rat might come along and take a bit of a munch!
"Once," Jamie explained, eyes wide and expressive, "one of my cousins
looked down the hole to see where his turd landed and lost his hat!"
"One of the big-cocked cousins?" Scotty inquired.
"No, it just a baseball hat and it fell from his head."
"No," snorted Scotty, "was it one of your big-cocked cousins who lost his
hat down the shitter?"
Jamie just waggled his head "no" and illustrated with his finger and thumb
a spread of about two or three inches. "He was younger than me and didn't
have any hair around his pecker yet."
We walked a little further, before Jamie said, "He had to get a new hat.
We just about pissed our pants listening to him tell Grandma why." Jamie
thought it was just as hilarious now and laughed just as hard then, I'm
willing to bet!
At the edge of the stadium parking lot, a campus policer officer stopped us
to visit; he was one of those first to arrive at the scene of our little
"dust up" as dad referred to it. The officer was all friendly and nice;
asked how Chris was feeling, and finally, smiled and announced, "If you
boys don't mind, I'll be joining you for practice on Monday. It's my day
off and I think it'd be fun."
We didn't mind one bit, it'd be nice to have someone, other than Coach
Schroeder, run with us and give us some pointers. As he walked away,
evidently to continue his patrol duties, Jamie watched him carefully,
silent, totally lost in his thoughts as only Jamie can do
sometimes. Finally, with a nod of his head, "I think," he observed,
speaking softly aloud to no one in particular, "I can run faster than him."
From the parking lot we headed up to the Commons. When Jamie asked why,
Chris laughed and said, "You'll see!"
The drums were sounding their rhythmic marching beat off in the
distance. As we stood, amidst the growing crowd of students and fans, the
entire marching band could be heard, playing the university fight song,
then fast marches, as they loomed into view coming down one of the campus
streets from the music building. The drum major, dressed in his bright
purple and old gold uniform, head topped with a tall white fur hat, long
golden baton pumping up and down as he strutted his stuff, led the band and
the phalanx of cheerleaders waving pompoms, shouting, cheers, and
encouragement, firing up the crowd!
The band stopped for just a few minutes for the cheerleaders to do some
cheers, lifts, and other things before the drum major blew his whistle,
pointed the top end of his baton forward, and the parade through campus
began, university students, fans, Jamie, me, and the three Horsemen
marching, jumping, cheering, and laughing with the rest of them winding
through campus, ending up at the stadium!
We headed for the student gate where our activities passes, waved across
the scanner, admitted us to the stadium, the game, and all of the
festivities inside. The afternoon was sunny, not too warm, just right for a
game, and Jamie loved it, especially the half time show the band put on.
To make it even better, the university won and the celebration left the
stadium and headed for the campus and downtown. The five of us decided it
time to go home, so we parted company and Jamie and I headed for his house
to pick up his overnight bag. At the house, Jamie's mom admonished us not
to go roaming around since Chief Kraft told her on the radio, "The troops
are restless!"
At my house, mom and dad welcomed Jamie and I led him upstairs to my room.
It's not a large room, but overlooks the street through a set of French
doors leading to a small balcony on the front entrance porch. Jamie thought
that was way cool! Across the hall is the bathroom, one of two on this
floor, but the other one is in my folk's bedroom. I have a double bed,
night stand (I keep some lotion, among other things, in the drawer to
assist me in jacking off sometimes) desk, dresser, computer table where I
have a laptop and desk model, and a console with a stereo, CD player, and
television. I have everything in there for studying and entertaining,
including Jamie now.
We put his duffle on my bed and I gave him the tour of the house, upstairs
(bedrooms), downstairs (kitchen, dining room, bathroom, living room), and
basement (family room where my brothers spent a great deal of time when
they were home). Jamie spotted the piano in the living room, so I had to
promise him I'd play after the tour.
I pulled out the piano bench, opened the cover over the keys, sat down, and
was joined by Jamie. Mom and dad were pleased I was going to play so
seated themselves in the living room as well to listen. I played through my
recital piece, which Jamie loved by the way, and continued for another hour
with not only classical, but a mix of popular, and "moldy oldies" as I
referred to them my parent loved. Jamie loved it all and there were times I
could hear him softly humming along if he recognized something.
After dinner (pizza) we headed upstairs, watch a little television while we
lay on my bed. I sat with my back up against the head board while Jamie
settled in between my legs, his back resting up against my chest. Putting
my arms around him, I heard a sigh of satisfaction from him. After an hour
or so, we decided it was time for bed, grabbed couple of towels, and headed
across the hall to brush our teeth and shower. The shower is big enough for
the two of us to get in together, so we did. Scrubbed and rinsed, hard as
rock candy, we giggled, and bare-assed naked, raced across the hall to my
room, shut the door (and locked it by the way), to get ready for bed.
I rummaged around in my dresser and found a pair of sleep shorts to
wear. Ordinarily I sleep either in my underwear or most time, just in my
birthday suit, but Jamie was sporting pajama bottoms, so I figured I'd
better wear something too. The bedroom was lighted only with the reflected
light from a street light down the block, but it was enough to see each
other.
Jamie snuggled up against me, his head on my right shoulder, his warm soft
chest up against my side, his pajama clad bottom half pushed tight against
my hip, and his big stiff cock lengthened out against my hip bone, slipping
about in its cloth enclosure.
"Whit?" he asked.
"What, Jamie."
"You make me hard!"
"Yeah, I can feel it. Mine is too."
"Can I feel it, please?"
Without hesitation, I quick assented, provided, "Can I feel yours, Jamie?"
He nodded his approval as his hand creeped across my stomach to the fly
front on the sleep shorts, encountering my stiff cock, and gently squeezed
it. I quickly slipped my shorts down and off to give him better access and
me more pleasure from his touch.
Jamie explored my nether regions, running his fingers gently through my
pubic bush, lifting and fondling my balls as if they were precious jewels,
and finally ran his fingers up one side and down the other side of my cock,
and using his fingers, felt all around my cock-head, feeling the sticky
pre-cum emerging from the slit, before rubbing it carefully around.
"It feels different than mine," he said, almost adoringly. "It's so smooth,
warm, soft and hard though like mine, but there's no extra skin like I
got."
Before I could explain circumcision to him, he said thoughtfully, "All of
my cousins, the boys only," he quickly added, "got extra skin like me, but
one has a really long piece that doesn't skin back when he gets hard."
I reached over and, with Jamie's help, removed his pajama bottoms, leaving
him just as naked as me. Even in the dim light he looked absolutely
beautiful to me. His light, natural tan complexion only seemed enhanced by
the faint light. His cock, big, twitching as I touched him, was smooth as
velvet, stiff in its erection, warm and inviting, the knob peeking out of
his foreskin about half way, and inviting me to stroke it several times,
which I did! He moaned in pleasure and my heart started doing flip-flops,
so deeply in love was I with Jamie Long!
Jamie tried getting closer, if he could, but I moved him to his back much
to his puzzlement, until I began kissing him, first on the mouth (man could
he ever kiss), down across his chest, nibbling on his nips as I went by,
down to his lower stomach, just above his pubes, stopping to move his
throbbing cock out of the way so I could nuzzle that sparse hair patch,
before taking the head of his penis in my mouth. When I did, he gasped and
straightened his legs out, but I brought him back to me before he could
cum, by securing that large scrotum with his precious jewels inside, in my
hand. Jamie started to thrust and after about a dozen bobs up and down on
his thick magnificence (it was too big to deep-throat him and this was the
first time I'd ever had a cock in my mouth), his cock-head began to swell,
his balls shrugged up tighter, and he came and came and came; so much I
couldn't swallow it all, although I wanted to, and his abundant cum
dribbled down my chin onto his stomach.
When he finished, he announced breathlessly, "I shoot a lot!"
He sure as hell did!
Jamie continued to shiver and quiver slightly after his release; relaxed
his body somewhat, sighed contentedly, but didn't soften as I cleaned up
around his cockhead and balls, lapping and licking like a mother cat does
to her kittens. He seemed to purr just as happily! His hand on my head,
softly caressing my hair, gently stroking my face, and his soft noise of
joy, indicated to me, not only his satisfaction with what happened, but an
outward manifestation of his love for me!
Letting him slip from my mouth, I savored his lingering essence, tasting
slightly salty, nutty, yet sweet and pleasing on my tongue, before raising
my head and shifting my body so our lips could re-engage, allowing him to
taste himself from my mouth as I enjoyed his marvelous lips and tongue.
Jamie permitted my facial contact for only a few minutes, but during that
time, caressed, tickled, and passionately fueled my ardor through his lips,
before pulling away, swiveling around and engulfing my own turgid rod in
the same moist cavity my own lips recently opened and my tongue explored!
"Oh, my God, Jamie!" I moaned as I stiffened ever more, if it is at all
possible, the head of my penis swelling to what felt like the bursting
point, as his tongue and soft, moist lips, danced, pranced, cosseted, and
stroked my length and head. I didn't last long under this erotic,
stimulating, orgasm-producing assault, my voice shivering in ecstasy,
"Jamie, my love, I'm cumming!" expecting him to pull off and let me shoot
on my stomach, but he locked his lips on tight, swallowing each spurt as I
twitched and pulsed through my very strong orgasm!
His lips popped free at my finish, raised his head, and positioned his body
so his hips rested between my thighs, his cock resting just below my balls,
stomach on mine, and his head resting on my shoulder, close enough to kiss
me.
"You taste good, Whit!" he sighed, kissed me and lay his head on my
shoulder his lips resting on my neck.
"You do too, Jamie," I responded, breathing in the fragrance of him,
feeling his warmth against me, as my arms wrapped around him. "I love you
so much!"
"I love you too, Whit!" he said softly just before he dozed off.
Waking in the morning, I was not surprised to find Jamie still sound
asleep, basically in the same position, except now, with every breath he
took, his hard, big cock, resting up tight against my wrinkled pucker hole,
would nudge forward, bringing a little jolt of anticipation from me. I
contemplated raising my legs, taking his cock in hand and seeing if I
couldn't seat it where I wanted it to go, but decided not to. He wasn't
lubed, I wasn't lubed, he was big, and I never had anything larger than my
middle finger up there before!
Good thing I didn't; a light rap on the door and the voice of my mother
announced breakfast in a half hour and we should be getting up! Jamie woke
at the sound and we had a few minutes to enjoy each other and we did before
dressing, brushing our teeth, and joining my parents. The night together
was our first and for both of us, heaven on earth!
Coach Schroeder announced on Monday, at practice, we had a week to prepare
for our first cross country meet; an invitational held by the city school
district at the public high school cross country track route they usually
use on the outskirts of town at the state park a few miles outside of the
city. There'd be six teams participating from five other schools, including
the city public school. It was one of but a few meets to involve schools
in our area with large numbers of freshman participants in cross country
track, introducing young runners to competition without having to compete
against the older high school runners.
The varsity and junior varsity cross country track teams were already,
practicing, running our course when we started. We were joined by Chief
Kraft, a county deputy sheriff, and the campus policeman we saw at the
football game. Jamie thought his step-father and the other two officers
looked comical and absolutely hilarious dressed in tee-shirts, shorts,
running shoes, bullet proof vest, and gun belt with gun, badge, and small
radio attached.
I saw something entirely different; Chief Kraft was lean, but well
developed, quite fit for his age, and definitely a runner in times past and
present by the way he stretched and limbered up for the run ahead. His
body frame was not that much different from Jamie's, only more mature and
developed. The other two officers were just as lean, just as fit, but
younger; clearly runners before and runners now!
After Chief Kraft explained to Jamie, and the rest of us since we were just
as curious but didn't ask, although they were all technically off duty,
they still had to be prepared, especially when working on campus where
there were many young people, us included. I thought somewhat differently;
a policeman is always a policeman wherever he or she is. One branch of law
enforcement I was familiar with has on its badges "protection all ways" or
something similar.
Jamie, the Horsemen, and the campus policeman led the pack while Chief
Kraft and the deputy sheriff brought up the rear. I watched Jamie carefully
as the campus policeman picked up the pace; Jamie did the same, keeping up
but maintaining a one to two strides behind him; not leading, but just, and
barely just, behind him.
The Horsemen kept up, running with Jamie, sort of sorting ourselves, but
staying ahead of the rest of the team. I heard Chief Kraft, somewhere in
the back, instructing runners to "lengthen your stride and pace
yourselves," and "draft behind the runner in front of you if you can." As
we neared the finish line, the campus policeman decided to step up the
game, but Jamie would have none of that; of course, neither did the
Horseman so we kicked ass as well! Fifty yards from the finish, Jamie
really kicked ass, sprinted across the line a good five yards ahead of the
campus cop! We were pumping just as hard, following Jamie's lead and
sprint, and finished behind him, followed by the campus policeman. Jamie,
shy, humble Jamie, prone not to brag or call attention to himself, just
grinned at me after he crossed the finish line! I love that guy so much!
The next day at practice, we were joined by Chief Kraft, Coach Schroeder,
and a very lean, legs well-muscled, city policeman, who in everyone's
assessment, might just be more of a challenge to us and very well was going
to best us. Walking out from the locker room, Jamie walked behind the city
cop and, on the course, perhaps the first one hundred meters, ran about
four or five strides behind him, watching the man's moves carefully.
"What's up?" asked Scotty running beside me, just behind Jamie, wondering
why we were hanging back.
I shrugged! At that moment I was just as much in the dark as he was as to
Jamie's intentions. The other Horsemen were just as anxious to bust loose,
but Jamie wasn't. Something was going through Jamie's head, but at that
point in time I just couldn't figure it out! I took about two more
strides, and suddenly remembered what he said in the parking lot, watching
the campus police officer walk away! Jamie was assessing the man's running
style, checking out his moves, trying to determine how to best him in the
race! Whether he fully realized what he was doing, in so many words, I
didn't have a clue, but that's exactly what he was doing. I came to the
conclusion there have been many people who underestimated the capabilities
of Jamie Long! Perhaps he did have a reading problem; perhaps he struggled
in math, science and other academics, but his mind worked in other ways
than most people, and was very gifted in other ways as well!
Jamie suddenly pulled up alongside of the city policeman, joined by the
rest of us, glanced at him, and maintained a steady pace. As the policeman
increased his speed, so did Jamie; if he slowed down, so did Jamie, but
kept just about one stride in the lead. Today, instead of fifty meters,
Jamie kicked his ass in gear about one hundred meters from the finish
line. The cop seemed to have anticipated the move and poured the gas to it
as well. That son-of-a-gun was one fast mother-fucker! We had no choice but
to try to gain the advantage and pumped our ass to catch up!
At the finish Jamie was first, the cop second, Scotty third, me fourth,
Derrick fifth, and Chris, sixth. It took us a bit to cool down and catch
our breath. The cop congratulated us and we just wheezed a "thank you!" We
later learned the police officer was not only a high school state champion,
but a collegiate champ as well!
In the locker room, after practice and we were heading toward the showers,
I overheard Coach Schroeder talking,
"I tell you Jack, he runs just like you did in college; assessing the other
runners, watching for the leader, letting the leader set a pace, and then
tromping the shit out of him toward the end!"
"We'll see!" was the response.
The voice responding was Chief Kraft and Coach Schroeder called him "Jack!"
"It gets curiouser and curiouser said Alice," I thought, but would bide my
time. With that, Jamie tickled my butt with his finger as he walked by and
began chattering how the city cop almost beat us, but "Pegasus and the
Horseman raced ahead," he said with a giggle and a jiggle of that cute,
pert, ass of his as he walked ahead of me to the shower!
I was in the process of shampooing Jamie's hair when Chief Kraft poked his
head into the shower room (luckily we weren't boned up); "Want a ride home,
Jamie?"
"No, Daddy, Whit will walk me home, okay?"
Our lips met with the tenderness, eagerness, and passion of youth as we
said our goodbyes in front of Jamie's. Walking home, I could only wonder
at the changes in my life since I met Jamie Long. It was all I could do to
keep myself from grabbing him, hugging him, or pleasuring him as we did at
my house that night, while in school. We both knew, however, there are
certain things done between lovers which are quite private and really not
for public consumption or criticism. Still, Jamie holding my hand as we
walked to and from school or in school was not seemed to be unusual by
others or frowned upon; after all it was "Jamie and Whit."
Eating our lunch the next day, the five of us, actually four of us since
Jamie was engaged in eating and not talking, were curious what adults would
be at practice and what different approach or strategy would be used by
Coach Schroeder. As I said, Jamie could've cared less, he was carefully
examining one of the chicken strips served as the main entr?e. Holding it
in front of his mouth with two fingers, he tilted his head from one side to
the other, finally took a bite, sort of rolled over and around in his
mouth, chewed it, and swallowed it before taking another bite.
Chris, always leery of Jamie's dining habits and side comments, narrowed
his eyes suspiciously, before asking, "What's wrong with the chicken?"
Jamie slowly chewed the piece now in his mouth, swallowed it before
answering ("Grandma Long said it wasn't polite to eat with your mouth full"
he informed us one day), "Some people say frog legs taste like chicken," he
said slowly, pondering another chicken strip held between his fingers and
extending it for us to inspect it.
"Frog legs?" squeaked Chris, clearly aghast and somewhat queasy someone
would venture to eat a portion of those denizens of meadows and ponds.
"Yeah," continued Jamie, "in the fall, when the bullfrogs got nice and fat,
Grandpa and me, and sometimes some of my cousins, would go out at night
with big flashlights, nets, and sometimes little frog spears on long poles,
and either net them or stab them. Shine a light out on the pond or in the
meadow and when their eyes light up, WHAM," he exclaimed hitting the table
causing us all to jump and Chris' eyes to get big and his Adam's apple bob
up and down, "we'd have him!"
"Grandpa would skin them out, just the legs; Grandma would roll them in
flour, salt, and pepper, and fry them in butter. Boy were they good, but
they didn't taste like chicken."
"What did they taste like?" Chris asked swallowing hard.
"Frog legs!" snorted Jamie, "but," he continued after plopping another
chicken strip in his mouth, "some people also say crawdads taste like
lobster, but I never ate a lobster before so I don't know about that."
"Crawdads?" groaned Chris, now becoming more certain things were not going
to get pleasant for him, convinced he was going to hear something he had no
desire to hear, but, like a moth to the flame, couldn't resist!
"Yeah, Grandpa had these wire traps we'd bait with dead fish or rotten
chicken guts or anything stinky, put them in the river at night and the
crawdads would crawl in to eat and in the morning we'd pull the traps and
empty all of the crawdads out. They were always big and fat."
Jamie took another bite of chicken, chewed on it as Chris watched,
listened, and began swallowing hard again.
"You really had to be careful though," Jamie cautioned, "'cause they can
really pinch with their claws," taking another bite of chicken. "One time
when we were skinny dipping one of my cousins was pinched."
"A big-cocked one?" Scotty asked. He seemed to have quite an interest in
Jamie's big-cocked cousins.
"No, it was a small crawdad!" Jamie answered.
He thought a moment and said conclusively, "I never looked to see if a
crawdad has a cock, so I don't know!"
Okay, was the story over? Not by a long shot!
"Grandpa would put the crawdads in a tub of fresh water for a couple of
days to get the muddy and stinky taste out of them and then we'd drop them
in a pot of boiling water to cook them."
"Alive, I'll bet," lamented Chris, a painful expression on his face.
"Yep! Sometimes they really wiggled! When they turned red, they were
done. Grandpa would scoop them out of the boiling water, we'd break off the
tails, peel them, and Grandma would make a stew she called 'gumbo' she
learned from her grandma. It's really, really good!"
"I'll bet!" remarked Chris, wrinkling his nose in doubt and distaste.
"You know what's really good?" Jamie asked, eying the last chicken strip
with contemplation.
Chris just had to ask; "What?"
"When you pull the heads from the tails, sucking all of the good stuff out
of the head!" and snapped up the chicken strip!
"That's it!" Chris snorted, swallowed really, really hard, and bolted from
the table heading toward the hall and the boy's restroom!
Jamie looked around and wondered if the bell had rung since Chris was in
such a hurry to leave.
Practice after school was different; Chief Kraft was accompanied by almost
a dozen officers from campus, the city, and the county. They were all
dressed for running, lean looking, and trim like distance runners do!
Should be interesting, I thought to myself looking the crew over. I wasn't
the only one scrutinizing the newcomers; Jamie was checking them out like
they were naked new boys joining us in the shower; carefully appraising
each one's qualities!
Coach Schroeder explained the adults were going to lead the pack and our
job, as a team, would be to get through their blocking action as we ran!
"When you're in a large group of runners," he explained, "such as you'll
encounter in this weekend's invitational and you're started in the back or
middle of the pack, you have to break through as quickly as possible. If
you don't the others in front of you can slow you down and affect your
time. You don't want that to happen, if you can prevent it."
We all nodded we understood, but he added, "Jamie, Scotty, Whit, Chris, and
Derrick, since you seem to have some of the fastest times, you'll be at the
very back of the pack to start!"
Scotty quickly huddled the five of us and said quietly, "Jamie, we're going
to follow you, okay? We'll be so close to you you'll think our noses are up
your ass."
Jamie thought that was funny and waggled his eyebrows at me!
"What you do, we do! Right guys? Pegasus leads the Four Horsemen,
understand?"
Jamie added softly, looking at Chief Kraft, "I think we might have to watch
my Daddy pretty good, but ?.." and broke off, narrowing his eyes as if
taking the measure of Chief Kraft as a running opponent.
One hundred meters into the race, Jamie maneuvered us into the middle of
the pack, then soon behind the cops! Soon, he was drifting to the right
side, causing us to follow and allowing the rest of the pack to slip in
behind the officers again. The course made a relatively sharp curve to the
right and just before we entered it, Jamie hauled ass and started to pass
the others on the side of the curve! As he came even with the cops, he
dropped behind them just a bit before shuffling and sliding up between a
campus officer and Chief Kraft. Taking the hint, the four of us then
slipped between two officers as well, cutting off their contact with each
other and causing them to break ranks.
I heard Jamie say, "Hi, Daddy," and we ran! Two hundred meters from the
finish, where Coach Schroeder waited, Jamie said, "Bye, Daddy," and poured
the coals to his legs and feet! The Four Horsemen, following Pegasus's
lead, did the same and the cops and Chief Kraft had no choice but to
energize their efforts as well.
The faster we ran, the faster and harder they ran! At the finish, Chief
Kraft and Jamie were pretty much tied, while it was different I thought
from my point of view, to determine who placed after that. I know I was
about an arm's length in front of the campus officer who'd been dogging my
pace like a stud pup chasing a bitch in heat!
We were all tired, trying to catch our breath by bending over, breathing
deeply, walking around gasping for breath, taking in big gulps of air as we
stretched our legs and bodies in an effort to recover! Looking over at
Jamie I noticed Chief Kraft had his arms around him, hugging him close and
sort of rocking him. I heard the Chief say, "Jamie, son, run like that,
and you'll win every race!"
Jamie looked up at him, smiled his delightful smile I loved so well, and I
was struck, again, looking at both of them smiling at each other, noticing
the color of their eyes, their light, natural tan, and the shape of their
smile, how much they looked like each other!
Chapter Five
"When you love someone you leave every possibility open to them and in
spite of all of the memories of the past you are ready to be surprised,
again and again, surprised, at how different they are, not a finished
image."
(Max Frisch)
My friend, my lover --- his son!
Bent over, hands on my knees, gasping for breath, trying to regain some
sort of equilibrium to my system after finishing the course, realizing
never had we been pushed this hard, to this extent of reaching our limits,
and then pushed over those limits, past the barriers we'd imposed on
ourselves and beyond, all as a result of the pace Jamie and Chief Kraft set
for us! I finally stood, looked around and noticed, other than the other
three Horsemen and the cops who stayed with us, our teammates were running
in, collapsing on the ground, groaning, trying to regain their strength as
well!
Chief Kraft released Jamie from his embrace as we, the Horsemen and me,
started to approach them while Coach Schroeder was talking to the other
boys, encouraging them, giving suggestions, pats on the back or butt, and
welcoming smiles. That's what we liked about Coach Schroeder, he never saw
any of us as a failure or loser, but always a winner, no matter how well or
poorly we did! He said he figured we each would know if we slipped and
didn't need to be reminded of it, but encouraged us to do the best we could
and that'd be just fine with him. Because of it, we all knew we'd bust our
ass for him, and now, Chief Kraft and the law enforcement officers who were
our mentors and heroes, as well!
"What did I hear Scotty call you," I heard Chief Kraft ask Jamie, "just
before the race?" while keeping his arm affectionately around him, holding
him close.
"Pegasus!"
"Pegasus?"
"Yeah, Daddy; a winged horse; the most splendid, magnificent, beautiful
creature ever created, Whit says, and showed me pictures and read me
stories about it."
Jamie hesitated, looked at his step-father and at me, adding shyly, "That's
what Whit says about me, but," he confessed, "I think he's more beautiful
than me!"
Now I was embarrassed! Chief Kraft just laughed and hugged Jamie even
closer. Jamie said quickly, proudly pointing his finger at Chris, Scotty,
Derrick, and me, "These guys are the Four Horsemen of Ham Hocks High and my
friends!"
"Pegasus and the Four Horsemen," Coach Schroeder repeated, overhearing
Jamie's remarks. "It should be a great cross country track season for this
team if we all run like we did today," pointing at the rest of the tired,
but happy, team. "These fellows ran faster today than ever before, thanks
to the pace you set!"
Scotty spoke up at this point, "That may be true Coach, but if it wasn't
for the challenge Chief Kraft and the officers set by pushing us, we
wouldn't have!"
With that we all cheered - sort of- we still didn't have a lot of wind!
Our team learned a great deal that day and it wasn't all about running! We
became a team, a team who could and would work together to help each other
win with humility and lose with honor!
The final two days of practice before the invitational downtown were good
hard workouts with several of the officers, along with Chief Kraft, working
with small groups of runners helping them develop or improve their running
and racing skills and techniques. Coach Schroeder was pretty darned
clever, we thought, in getting help from others. Without a student teacher
(good riddance to bad rubbish) finding Chief Kraft and the officers who
were runners was a god-send to him and to us. Of course, having Chief
Kraft's step-son on the team helped. I did wonder, however, how he knew
Chief Kraft was a runner!
The race on Saturday was attended by six schools with freshman teams and
there seemed to be a real shit pot full of runners all over the place!
Members of our junior varsity and varsity teams were there to cheer us on
as well as parents, and classmates of all three teams. The other schools
had just as many spectators and fans in attendance so there were large
numbers of people lining the route. Having so many people cheering,
shouting, would be a new experience for us; I only hoped the crowds and the
noise didn't distract or frighten Jamie - it didn't!
It was a shot-gun start with our team being assigned the middle of the
pack. There were fifteen of us (the entire squad out for cross country
track) and fourteen of us fell in behind Jamie as he began leading us
through the phalanx of flailing arms and pumping legs around us. It was
easy to run into someone, stumble, and fall, but we held our own, staying
on our feet.
Halfway through the course, he had us toward the front and not long after,
he was leading, with Scotty and me tight on his tail, as he pumped his
legs, determination and concentration on his face. We weren't alone,
several boys from other schools were in there with us, along with several
of our teammates. Jamie didn't look to see who was alongside of him or
glance over his shoulder to see who was behind him, he was focused on
running the race, giving it his all, assured in his mind I wasn't far
behind him, and that was enough for him! At one point in the race, I
watched him take a deep breath, stretch out his legs, throw his shoulders
back a little, all signs, from what we knew of him, he was going to pick up
the pace and kick ass! Soon, runners from the other schools were falling
back, unable to sustain the pace, and it was Jamie, Scotty, and me leading
the pack with Derrick, Chris, and two of our teammates right on our ass!
Nearing the finish line, we could hear our officer coaches yelling,
encouraging us, but Jamie heard only one voice; Chief Kraft's!
"Run, son, run like the wind!"
And he did!
All the members of our squad finished in the top thirty, garnering enough
points for us to place first in the invitational. In celebration, after
the race, we were treated to a pizza party at Pete's Pizza Parlor in "Dog
Town," the small business district adjacent to campus. Don't ask me why
it's called "Dog Town," because I don't have a fucking clue! The treat was
provided by Chief Kraft and the other law enforcement officers who'd been
our coaches and running companions. To top the day off, Derrick had a
sleepover at his house for just the five of us.
Jamie didn't have a sleeping bag so I brought an extra along we had at home
when I walked over to pick him up. Chief Kraft made it point to tell us
not to run around campus in our undies and we laughed; but I don't think he
was joking!
We just watched movies, ate popcorn, and re-ran the race. When we rolled
out the sleeping bags, I opened mine clear out, laid it flat, and did the
same with the one for Jamie. He was delighted to see we were going to
sleep together and not trundled up in separate bags. I did have to whisper
in his ear, "no sex stuff, okay?" He gave me that, "you don't think I'm
stupid?" look he does every now and then. Well, I just had to be certain,
more for my sake than his because one look at him in his undies (we all
slept that way at Derricks) made me horny has hell and I took on that
"Unicorn" look, only the horn was not on the head on my shoulders!
Jamie settled in next to me, covered with our sleeping bag, head resting on
my stomach, watching a movie on television. We were all tired and before
long, he was sound asleep, arm across my middle and his head moved up to my
chest. I held him in place, putting my arm around him, securing him to
me. He looked so peaceful as he slept, feeling safe and secure in my arms,
snuggling in for the close contact he loved so well!
Scotty, in a sleeping bag right next to us, looked at the two of us,
remarking softly, "He really loves you, you know!"
I just nodded.
Scotty sighed, a deep, sort of longing or one of resignation, settled down
in his bag, and said, sadly, I thought, "You guys are so lucky!"
I didn't think much of it at the time, only acknowledging what I felt as
well.
The school week went well; Jamie didn't have any revelations about various
foods or things Chris thought was disgusting at lunch, so, as far as Chris
was concerned, it was really a good week, although I think he secretly
waited for the stories, but also felt he didn't want them because they
might make him urp!
The meet this week was on Thursday afternoon, so we were excused from
school. It was an invitational also, about fifty miles away. There was to
be three separate races; our freshman race, the junior varsity, and the
varsity. We all rode the same bus; it was really crowded with three in a
seat. The five of us and the rest of the freshman squad sat in the front
seats of the bus. It was one of our first introductions to "upper class
privileges;" varsity runners sat in the back of the bus.
Our freshman team, led by Jamie and the Four Horsemen, finished in the
front of the pack and garnered enough points to take first place. Chief
Kraft and a couple of the officers were there to cheer us on as well as
some of the parents. My folks, Derrick's, Chris's, and Scotty's dads all
had classes to teach and couldn't make it. After the meet, on the way home,
Jamie fell asleep, resting his head on my shoulder, sitting between Scotty
and me.
"He sure looks comfortable and happy laying like that," Scotty remarked.
I just nodded, adding softly, "Jamie's always comfortable using me as a
pillow." He sometimes just didn't seem he could get close enough to me!
Our third match, a week later on Saturday morning, was another invitational
at our school this time, but a really big one! There were ten schools
invited to send squads and they all did! Coach Schroeder had volunteers
lined up to register runners, provide water, first aid, and run the big
concession stand. It was one of our big fund raisers with the money used
for uniforms and extra things the school didn't or couldn't furnish. Chief
Kraft assigned several officers to help with parking and security. There
were hundreds of people there when you included parents and spectators.
The races were run in three heats; freshmen first, junior varsity next, and
finally the varsity. By the time it was done it was well into the
afternoon. Our freshman squad did really well, winning a first, but the
junior varsity and varsity came in third and fourth, not quite what Coach
hoped for. Our cheering section was loud and encouraging, filled with our
parents, the law enforcement officers who weren't on duty, and tons of our
classmates. Most of them, Dad said, came to watch Pegasus and the Four
Horsemen run; it appeared we were getting a reputation!
There was no school on Monday of the next week because of Parent-teacher
Conferences. Jamie wanted me to sleepover on Saturday night, but his folks
had other plans, so we agreed on Sunday. I hoped he was looking forward to
it as much as I was. As many times as I'd been to his house, I'd never
been upstairs to his bedroom!
His bedroom was really not much different than mine, in some ways, but
different in other ways, each room reflected our differences, yet at the
same time, our similarities. Both of our rooms had a double bed, study
desk, night stand, computer desk or table, but instead of an electric
keyboard, such as in my room, Jamie's had an artists or architects table;
wide, wooden, with an adjustable tilt top for height and angle, sketch pads
and paper tucked neatly, efficiently in containers on shelves beneath the
top, various pencils, boxes of charcoal, containers of brushes, water color
paints, and other artists supplies stored just as neatly and conveniently.
In the corner of the room stood an artist's easel, again, paper in place at
the ready should there be the desire. The easel stood where it'd capture
the natural light from the two bedroom windows as he worked or, positioned
above and on stands to the sides, electric lights to illuminate when
natural light was either too faint or non-existent. The real difference,
however, between his room and mine, was what was on the walls!
In my room I had a few poster of some classical artists and some (more than
the classical artists) of boy-band groups, I thought looked especially
sexy, but Jamie had none of that! No, his walls were decorated with
drawings and painting, some framed and some not. Most were pencil/charcoal
or just pencil or just charcoal depicting all sorts of still life, people,
landscapes, and scenery. They were outstanding to say the least, exhibiting
a talent and artistic ability I didn't know Jamie had!
"Wow!" was all I could say as my eyes tried to view the works before me and
my mind tried to absorb the talent it took to create them .
"Wow, what?" Jamie asked cautiously almost fearful, it seemed, of my
answer, wondering if I liked what I saw or thought it distasteful or
mundane.
"Like, I mean - wow! These are fantastic, Jamie;" waving my hand toward all
of the pictures, "I had no idea!"
I really didn't! He always sat by himself in art class, rarely interacting
with anyone other than the teacher, even me, near the window and worked so
intently, concentrating on what was in front of him, rendering on paper
what was in his mind through the use what I now fully realized and
respected, were very talented hands and fingers! I should correct that
somewhat, because I knew what talented, agile fingers and hands his hands
were, but didn't realize how talented they were with artists tools, only
with my own tool.
"Are these yours?" I asked, amazed and awed by their beauty, their detail,
and the life seeming to jump out at the viewer portrayed in those of
people.
Jamie nodded his head shyly and said, face red with embarrassment, "They're
not very good, are they!"
I turned my attention from the drawings, looked at him, seeing those tiny
tears begin forming in the corner of his eyes as they seem to when he
becomes embarrassed, ashamed, self-conscious, frightened, or happy! Quickly
pulling his close to me, I kissed him deeply; a kiss full of love,
admiration, and desire for his happiness, transmitting my intense respect
and appreciation for his talent and my love for him!
Tipping my head back, releasing his lips, with a finger, I gently swiped
away the tears in his eyes, smiled, and responded, "Jamie, they're
beautiful, perfect, created by someone just as perfect and beautiful- you!"
Jamie opened his mouth and accepted my kiss as I again engaged soft, warm
lips with mine, allowing my tongue to enter, engage with his, and feel him
gently nurse on it just a moment, bringing on raging erections on both of
us. Slipping my hand around his back, sliding it down beneath his belt and
into his boxer briefs, I fondled his smooth, pert, firm buttocks before
wiggling my middle finger down between those delicious mounds, encountering
his wrinkled entrance and tracing around it causing it twitch in
anticipation!
"I love your ass!" I whispered in his ear, bringing a soft sigh of desire
from him.
Clutching my crotch, he snickered in return, "You're hard!"
Our tryst was interrupted when we heard the front door close. Since it was
his mom who welcomed me, I quickly assumed it had to be Chief Kraft coming
home. I really wasn't certain how happy he would be seeing me standing in
Jamie's bedroom with my finger up Jamie's ass, so I stepped back,
separating us. Good thing we did too, because we could hear footsteps
coming up the stairs!
A soft rap was heard on the door frame, followed by "Okay for me to come
in?"
"Come in, Daddy," Jamie giggled, looking at my crotch and the kind of
guilty look on my face.
Chief Kraft stepped into the room, saw us standing there looking at a wall,
quite obviously almost caught in some compromising situation by the look on
my face, and just laughed softly to himself. He said nothing other than
"Hi, Whit!" and stepped up next to us and joined us.
Spotting a detailed pencil drawing of a farm house, he asked, "Isn't that a
new one, Jamie? I haven't seen it before!"
My overnight bag was still at my feet from where I dropped it when I gave
in to my passion, so Jamie picked it up and put it on his bed before
walking back to stand in front of the pencil and charcoal drawing.
"Isn't it Grandma and Grandpa Long's house?" Chief Kraft asked, leading the
discussion, trying to open Jamie up to conversation and his feelings toward
the drawing.
Jamie is basically shy, except around me and most times with the Horsemen,
but it seems he is really shy, almost reluctant when it comes to discussing
or showing his art work. Art expresses the inner soul, the very heart of
the artist, bares it to the world, creating a vulnerability, exposing not
only the work, but the very character, talent, and deep, deep feelings the
artist had when creating his or her work and displaying it for the
pleasure, displeasure, discommode, or ignorance of the world's population,
as well as the esthetic pleasures and appreciation of the more cultured and
educated in the fine arts, those who appreciate beauty and detail for what
is it - art!
The three of us stepped closer, seeking a closer view a very detailed,
graphite (pencil) drawing of a wooden, two story, frame home situated in a
very rural setting. The detail was so intricate I could discern, with
close inspection; the clarity of a pull cord on window shade half drawn in
an upper story, corner room window; the horizontal lines of each board of
siding on the house breaking only for additional lengths and laps so
designed to shelter the underlayment and the interior from the elements; a
broken rail in one section of the right side of the porch fronting the
house and; a mid-sized rose bush near the front steps, the petals, leaves,
stems in exquisite, skillful rendition, if in color, would lead one to
almost see it as real instead of drawn!
"Yeah," Jamie finally responded, smiling in remembrance, "I drew this last
spring when the roses were in full bloom. You and Momma decided to marry
each other after summer and I wanted something to remember where I lived,
'cause you said we'd move to here afterward."
Chief Kraft cleared his throat uneasily, thinking, I'm certain, a degree of
guilt for removing Jamie from a very comfortable, familiar environment to a
new town, new school, and a new daddy.
"What room was yours, Jamie?" I asked quickly, diverting the conversation
to something totally different.
"Here," he answered pointing to the corner room with the window shade half
drawn. "I could look out and see up and down the lane coming to the house
or out the other side and see the sun come up or the big garden where
Grandma worked in the mornings after breakfast."
Pointing off to the left of the picture, "Here, where you can't see, is the
chicken yard. Part of my chores were to feed and water the chickens and
gather up the eggs."
"Over here, further, where you really can't see," he exclaimed, this time
pointing almost at the wall alongside of the picture, "is the big barn and
the hog yard. Grandpa taught me how to milk the cows in the barn."
"Really?" I asked somewhat amazed. "How do you do that?"
"Yeah," Jamie answered, "it's kind of like squeezing your c??"
"Finger?" Chief Kraft interrupted, quickly substituting what he knew was
about to either be said or to reduce any embarrassment to Jamie!
"Yeah!" Jamie responded with a grin and a wink at me.
There were many, many other drawings posted on the walls, all of portrait
quality, done in pencil and charcoal; realism to a detail in each one. As
we moved along, Chief Kraft excused himself, claiming to have some things
to catch up on, but really, I think, to give Jamie and me time alone.
"Who's this good looking stud?" I asked pointing to a particular exquisite,
drawing.
"That's my cousin, Zach," Jamie responded proudly.
"He's my momma's older brothers oldest. He graduated from high school
last spring."
Cousin Zach was indeed a handsome young man, if the drawing was any
indication and, from what I'd seen on the walls, it was entirely
accurate. After graduating from high school, Zach was working trying to
earn enough money to attend college, according to Jamie. Moving along,
each picture we viewed garnered remarks and explanation from Jamie; a hen
and a half dozen chicks all scratching in the dirt drawn one day after he'd
fed and watered the chickens.
"I thought it just looked so neat," was his narration on that one.
The drawing of a man on a tractor, drew the comment from him, "That's my
Grandpa Long on his Farmall? B tractor."
There was a portrait of a solitary flower, one of the barn with a cow in
the fenced in area, and one which really sparked my interest, a drawing of
a several boys swimming and one, bare ass exposed, swinging from a rope,
ready to let loose, and cascade into the water amongst the rest of boys.
"That's Zach on the rope," Jamie explained. "I didn't draw his front; I
didn't think he'd want me to," pausing a moment reflectively, "and I don't
think Grandma Long would either! Those other boys are my cousins."
I wanted to ask Scotty's question "the big cocked ones?" but I just smiled
instead.
On his drawing table I noticed a drawing, perhaps not yet complete, of four
very familiar cross country runners in their track togs.
"It's not done yet," Jamie said apologetically when he noticed me stop and
look at it.
Done or not, the very identifiable facial likenesses of the Four Horsemen
of Ham Hocks High were spot on, as well as the pumping, flexing legs, arms
in various positions as we ran, all frozen in time and place by Jamie's
artistry. It was almost black and white photo perfect.
"Done or not," I said, "it's beautiful," and kissed him. I felt the warmth
of his embarrassment and feeling of humbleness as I did. He hadn't come to
full realization of the talent he had, so eager wanted to please others
with his drawings. There were more drawings, of that I'm certain, but his
mom called us to dinner.
"We had pot roast for dinner," she explained as we sat at the table, "so
we're having hot beef sandwiches for supper."
The hot beef sandwich was absolutely delectable! Jamie's mom was a good
cook.
I wasn't certain how comfortable I'd be sitting at the table or visiting
with Chief Kraft; after all, he was head of campus security and my first
introduction to him was under rather auspicious circumstances and I was not
fully clothed at the time. He was no different, I found as we visited,
than Derrick's, Chris's, or Scotty's dad. At home, Chief Kraft was Jamie's
step-dad, relaxed, friendly, welcoming, and very fond of Jamie and his mom.
Dinner over, Jamie and I wandered down to the family room. I expected
television or a game or something but instead Jamie wanted me to read to
him. I hadn't brought any books with me so I was somewhat flummoxed until
he produced a box full of Hardy Boys mysteries.
"These are my favorites," he explained, picking one out and handing it to
me. Hey, who am I to deny my boyfriend?
We cuddled up on the couch, I opened the book, Jamie rested his head on my
shoulder, and I began to read. Certain he could read, albeit with
difficulty, as I read, coming upon a word here or there, I'd ask what it
was and if he struggled, wait patiently while he sounded it out.
"I learned how to do that from Mr. Simon, my teacher at school," he said
proudly. "I didn't know how to do that before. Isn't it neat?"
I agreed, it was a small, but important technique which would help open up
another world for Jamie.
Every now and then, he'd stop me, eyes big (especially if it was an
exciting part) and tell me what he understood was happening. His mom and
step-dad came into the family room, sat down, and began to read themselves;
Chief Kraft a newspaper and his mom a magazine.
Chief Kraft, looking up from his newspaper when I stopped to turn a page,
commented, "Jamie loves to be read to."
Jamie looked up at him, grinned, saying, "You read to me a lot too, Daddy!"
and gave me a nudge to continue.
I finished about half a chapter, looked up at Jamie, and said, "Why don't
you read Jamie, so I can rest my eyes a minute?"
He never hesitated, taking the book from my hands, laid it in his lap, and
with one finger guiding him, began reading where I left off. Where he
stumbled on a word, I'd help him sound it out, if he needed help, and
explain what the word meant if he wasn't certain. Granted, it took some
time since he is a very slow reader, but read to me he did!
Every now and then I'd look up and notice his parents quickly avert their
attention back to their own reading material, seemingly engrossed in it. I
doubted that since I never heard a page turn in the magazine or the
newspaper rustle like they do when dad reads his paper.
Chapter complete, Jamie announced he wanted to shower before bed and I
agreed, probably for different reasons however. I really wanted to scrub
some special places anticipating what I hoped would happen once we crawled
into bed together.
Jamie got me a towel and washcloth, showed me the bathroom, apologizing he
was sorry the shower was too small for us to take one together, but
qualified it by looking toward his bedroom, waggled his eyebrows
lasciviously, and cast me a grin which left no doubt what he wanted to do
in bed.
Dried, naked as the day I was born, waiting under the covers for Jamie to
finish his shower and join me, I checked to make certain everything I
needed was I handy in my overnight bag. One thing about having the
internet handy (despite all of the warnings "do not read if you're under
18" or "NSFW, if under 18 leave" which none of us do) and an older brother
who is a doctor and you're not bashful talking to, I procured an item or
two at the drug store he recommended. Although, I must confess, I didn't
buy condoms as my brother instructed me to. I'd never had sex with anyone
and I was certain Jamie hadn't either, from the way he talked; besides I
wanted to feel him skin on skin and breed him as I wanted to be bred by
him!
Jamie locked his bedroom door after he came in from showering. Turning
around, naked as I was, the sight of his svelte body standing before me
almost took my breath away! He was a male of my species to equal no others
in my eyes, of the most alluring qualities, unequaled by all descriptions,
statutes, or portraits of Adonis or any of the Greek or Roman, real or
mythological characters. Graceful, comely in appearance, bewitching me with
his smile and flashing eyes, walking toward me, his very aroused and
twitching large male appendage, rooted in the small thatch of black pubic
hair adorning it's base, and hanging low between his legs, his scrotum
containing two large almost walnut-sized testicles which produced, from
previous contact with his prurient instrument, copious amounts of his
special man seed, swung back and forth with each step he took, Jamie
approached me in the bed, desire on his face, much like a new husband about
to consummate the marriage!
Lifting the covers, Jamie glided into bed, making the most intimate of
contacts with me, our hardness' engaging as he rolled on top of me, and
secured his lips to mine. Neither of us thrust, even though our cocks were
twitching with desire, satisfied, for the moment, in the kiss; relishing
the intimacy and enchantment we were experiencing. His lips, warm, moist,
gentle, caressed mine with a willowy erotic tenderness, encouraging me to
respond with equal passion!
God, Jamie could kiss! A kiss from him brought me to rigid steeliness,
almost orgasmic in response. Still atop me, he moved his lips and with his
face resting high on my shoulder, the tip of his moist, warm, curled tongue
dipped into my ear, sending crashing sensations of lust from my ear to my
cock!
"Jamie," I whispered almost breathlessly, "I'd like to make love to you and
for you to make love to me. Do you know what that means, you know, between
two boys?"
I heard and also felt him giggle softly as he reached down and carefully
grasped my turgid penis, saying, "Yeah, you're going to put this," wiggling
and jacking it a little, "into my butt and I'm going to put mine in yours
when you're done! I used to watch my cousins when they thought I was asleep
when I was little. They called it 'corn-holing;' the boys at school said it
was 'butt-fucking,' and when I asked Cousin Zach, he said, 'call it
anything you wish, do it any way you want, but I call it fucking
fantastic!'"
"Well, Jamie," I whispered, twisting to put myself on top and beginning to
kiss, nip, and gently suck his soft skin as I worked my way south down his
smooth, elegant front, "we're going to fuck, but for us it will be making
love and involves much more than just plain fucking!"
Reaching that point of his body wherein resided the instrument of my
delight, his long, thick, and hard shaft, I licked the pre-cum from his
slit, nibbled lightly on his glans, swiped my tongue around the crown as I
slid his foreskin back below it, and slipped the bulbous head into my mouth
and gently sucked it like a newborn on a teat!
"Yes!" he exclaimed, raising his hips to insert more of himself into me.
However, I released him, much to his immediate dismay, and continued
working my way south, lapping at his magnificent balls before raising his
legs and holding them up and apart with my hands, buried my face below his
perineum, and probed his puckered rosebud with the point of my tongue!
My tactile approach to that very sensitive part of his body, brought not
only a soft squeal of delight, but a moan of submission and desire!
"Please, Whit!" he pleaded.
"In just a minute," I answered quietly, rose from the bed to retrieve a
large towel and some KY lubricating gel from my overnight bag.
Jamie looked at the towel, frowned, and asked, "Why?"
"In case we dribble, it won't stain the sheets."
It's a good thing I read a lot and knowing how much Jamie came, I figured
we'd need it! After arranging the Turkish towel beneath him, I lubed up my
cock, put a healthy dollop on my middle finger, inserted it into his
waiting orifice, ignoring his complaint it was cold, and began to smear it
around inside, using one finger, then two to stretch him in preparation for
my cock.
Kneeling between his outstretch legs, lifting them to straddle my hips,
lining my rigid cock up with his anal opening, I leaned forward, carefully
easing into him. The head of my dick enter, popped past the muscled outer
barrier, Jamie's eyes flashed open and mouth gaped wide, but any audible
reaction was muffled by my mouth on his, taking his mind off of something
going in where something else usually came out!
I kept pressing forward, watching his reaction turn from minor pain to
pleasure, until my balls were tightly snugged up against him and I was
fully embedded! Waiting for his signal it was okay to begin, once received
through a slow nod of his head, I began the age old rocking in and out,
pleasurable motion to both, known to man as "fucking!"
I didn't last long, especially when Jamie begged, "Fuck me harder, Whit!"
With each strong ejaculation of my semen into him, I realized how much one
person can love another and how precious it is to give that intimate, deep,
and sexually satisfying love to one another! It is more, I thought at the
time, than I deserve, and all I can offer in return is myself back to
him. Expended, I lay relaxed on him, my softening prick still
twitching. Feeling his legs loosen their grip on my thighs, his hands,
those soft, artistically talented hands, stroked my back from buttocks to
shoulder.
"I love you, Whit," he sighed.
"And I love you, Jamie!"
Lifting my sated body from his, I indicated it was now his turn. Jamie
seemed uncertain why I'd want to assume the belly down, butt up position
when I made love to him face to face. I explained it was because he was
larger in the cock department and should be easier for both of us since it
was the first time. Jamie thought it was absolutely hilarious when I
mentioned he was "larger in the cock department," but quickly added, "So
that's why some of my cousins do it that way."
It sounded to me as if some of his cousins were a rather horny bunch! I
hoped Jamie was just like them! Assuming the position, on my knees, butt
up, and head down resting on my arms, Jamie dutifully and carefully
lubricated his turgid man-staff and my sensitive pucker in preparation for
our union. He found it somewhat fascinating, stuffing a dollop of lube up
into my rectum with his middle finger, how my sphincter muscles reacted,
contracting and squeezing his finger as he worked it in and out.
Jamie positioned himself, cock at the ready, nudging my rear entrance (or
exit, however you care to look at it), saying with considerable doubt, "I
don't know if it will fit, Whit; your butt-hole looks pretty small!"
I assured him it would, but he had to go slow.
"Okay," he answered, again with trepidation and concern, "but you tell me
if I hurt you!"
With a little push, the head of his cock entered me, slipped past the
constricting ring of my ass, and lodged there with my muscles contracting
just behind the flared crown, securing him within me. I was happy I was
face down so he couldn't see my reaction to this intrusion of something
much bigger and hotter going in than ever went out! We rested a minute, but
I soon adjusted to his girth.
"Move in some more," I encouraged and he did! I'd rest and he'd move; I'd
rest and he'd move! It felt as though my entire insides were being
rearranged, but in a most delightful way, I might add.
"Whit;" a lusty, deep-throated, almost sigh, a wisp of delight came from
the depths of Jamie's pleasure pit, as he rested balls deep, pubic hair
tickling by butt cheeks, "you're so warm, tight, so fucking awesome on my
cock!" and shuddered with erotic pleasure; his words entering my ear, as
his moist lips brushed it, traveled to my neck; resting his chin on my
shoulder as he, with tender affection and love, began a slow enchanting
fuck! I moved, slowly lowering my body until I rested on my stomach, butt
slightly elevated to give him better access and me maneuverability, yet
linking Jamie and me as one! Jamie's arms were looped under my arm pits
and over my shoulders, locking us together, not only in love, but life, two
as one!
Moving his head slightly, engaging my lips with his, he whispered how much
he loved me, how wonderful it felt as he stimulated my insides and his
generous endowment with each rocking, deliberate, and stimulating motion of
his hips. As the sensations on his cock became more intense, rocketing to
his brain, back to his balls, zipping to the end of his dick, his actions
became faster, more urgent, more intense, his balls slapping against mine
with each thrust, and with a groan, a hard push forward in an attempt, it
felt, to push his whole body into mine, his release began! Jamie's butt
cheeks clenched and his long hard cock, inserted in me as far as he could
push it, began to swell and spurt, subside, swell again, as each powerful
orgasmic blast of his ejaculate, registering on the sensitive, but
stretched anal ring of mine, so delightfully stimulated, traveled up the
pulsing tube on the underside of his cock, spurting out the end through the
slit or the swollen, throbbing head, becoming one with me!
Slowing, he lay on my back, his belly resting in the curve of it, hard cock
maintaining its tumescence, still buried deep inside my tunnel of passion,
head resting on my shoulder, recovering from the intensity of his orgasm,
sighed softly, "Cousin Zach was right; it's fucking fantastic!"
I thought he might roll off, once his penis softened and disengage me as I
had him, but no, not Jamie!
Catching his breath, regaining his energy, he asked with a soft laugh,
"Whit, while I'm here, can I do it again?"
You bet and he did, several more times before day broke! In the morning,
before we showered, Jamie rolled onto me, reach down and fondled my morning
stiffy; "Do me again, Whit; this time when I'm on my tummy!"
Resting my crotch on those sweet buns of his after expending my load, again
quoting Zach, "fucking fantastic;" Jamie agreed, no matter what position.
Our early November birthdays were only five days apart, mine first and then
Jamie's. We each had our own, separate, family celebrations, evidently
everyone pleased we made it to our fifteenth birthday relatively unscathed,
but Jamie and I also wanted a "together" birthday party; a dinner
celebration with our parents. I suggested it to Mom and, rather than dinner
at a pizza parlor or restaurant, she and Ellen Kraft (Jamie's Mom), decided
on steaks at the Kraft home. If the weather was decent, Dad and Chief Kraft
would grill outside; if not, Mom and Mrs. Kraft would put them under the
broiler in the kitchen range.
I wanted to get Jamie something special for his birthday, something
uniquely linking him to me and me to him. Mom suggested a friendship
bracelet, which I thought was super fantastic! When she further suggested
having it engraved, "Jamie; my forever friend - Whit," I almost wept with
joy; he would so like it!
Mom and Dad gave me a new electronic keyboard, replacing my older one, with
more features on it. Jamie called me on his birthday, using his new
I-phone?.
"It has a camera, Whit," he spouted excitedly. "Daddy says now I can take a
picture of what I want to draw and look at it any time to help me and," he
added proudly, "I can take a picture of you and see you anytime I want!"
The weather was perfect, the steaks grilled to a gourmet delight, and the
dinner party was fun! Jamie and I opened our gifts to each other at the
same time. His gift to me was a friendship bracelet identical to the one I
gave him but the engraving read, "Whit; my forever friend - Jamie." Our
mothers smiled conspiratorially. We couldn't wait to try the bracelets on,
on we did - on each other!
We sat, laughed, and helped clear the table before going to the family room
for birthday cake. Enjoying our sweet treat, all of us seated on the large
horseshoe sectional, Jamie and I began talking about our cross country
season, how much fun we had, commiserated why coach wouldn't enter us in
any "open" competitions where all boys in each school out for cross country
could race, and the races Jamie and the Four Horsemen won. Everything was
going well until Jamie said,
"I wish my real Daddy could have seen me run; Momma always said he ran like
the wind!"
We hadn't really thought the adults in the room were paying any attention
to our conversation, but the minute he said that, the adults in the room
became unusually quiet! I looked around the room, focused my attention on
Chief Kraft, watching closely to judge his reaction! He stared back at me
and I saw in his eyes, a knowing of a secret; a secret known by me; one he
really thought I'd not know.
Still looking at me, he cleared his throat, saying somewhat hoarsely, "He
was Jamie;" looked at his wife before continuing, "I suppose this is as
good as a time as any!"
Mom and Dad suddenly made those subtle motions indicating they were going
to "exit stage left" and take me with them. The look on their faces told me
volumes; they already knew what was coming and didn't tell me! Angered, yet
understanding, I held up my free hand, since I had hold of Jamie's with the
other, speaking softly, but with determination, almost challenging,
"I think Chief and Mrs. Kraft would want us to stay, especially me -
right?"
At first Jamie looked perplexed, but when he heard my voice, the
seriousness of it, the look of concern and sadness on his mother's face,
and the anguish faces of my own parents, he was more than just befuddled,
he was suddenly frightened, scooted closer to me, and began to quiver
slightly, manifesting his fear, just before his tears would flow!
Knowing he needed me for security and reassurance to help keep the "bad
boys" away he envisioned coming to haunt him, I wrapped an arm around him,
pulled him even closer, whispering, "Don't worry, Jamie, nothing bad is
going to happen; all will be well," and smiled at him.
Jamie let out a deep breath, relaxed some, but still, a couple of tear
drops began a snail like pace down each cheek.
Chief Kraft rose, left the room, and returned momentarily with a photo
album and a cardboard box. Setting them both on the coffee table in front
of the sectional, he smiled, looked directly at Jamie and said,
"Jamie, honey, please know your Momma and I love you so very much and
wouldn't want to harm you in any way. We intended to have this
conversation before Grandpa and Grandma Long arrived for Thanksgiving, but
now is a great time with your best friend Whit by your side!"
Chief Kraft opened the box and pulled an envelope from it, opened it, and
laid the piece of paper it contained on the coffee table in front of us,
motioning for Jamie to pick it up.
Jamie looked at it, puzzled a moment, before asking me, "Whit, what is it
and what does it say?"
I picked it up, smiled, hugged him again, before answering carefully, "It's
your birth certificate, Jamie. On it is your name, the place and date you
were born, who your momma is," pointing it out to him, "Ellen Long and who
your real daddy is," pointing to the line with the father's name on it.
I swallowed hard when I asked him whose name appeared on that line because
it was just as I thought, he never realized, and now wondered how he would
react!
Jamie looked at it, choked back a sob, looked at it again, finally looking
up at Chief Kraft, answering with a choked sob of joy, "James Arthur
Kraft!"
The first time I saw Jamie with Chief Kraft, standing next to each other,
my curiosity was instantly stirred, however, I dismissed the urge to snoop,
deciding my imagination was running amok! However, as time moved on,
overhearing Coach Schroeder talking to an unseen individual named "Jack,"
telling him how Jamie ran just like him while he was in college, and
Mrs. Kraft referring to Chief Kraft as "Jack," my curiosity resurfaced,
bringing me to a closer observation of both Jamie and Chief Kraft. Their
facial expressions, smiles, color of their eyes, skin color, hair color,
and overall mannerisms were similar.
Looking at Chief Kraft's name plate he wore while on duty, carefully noting
it was "J. Arthur Kraft," led me to ask my dad one time what his first name
really was.
"James," he answered after pondering for a moment, "but he goes by Art on
campus."
The real clincher, confirming what I suspected, came when I saw Chief Kraft
and Jamie running side by side during cross country practice. There was no
doubt in my mind, watching their stride, their close observation of other
runners, the way they maneuvered, positioning themselves to take maximum
advantage toward the end of the race, whose son Jamie Long was. The puzzle
for me was what to do about it! I decided to do nothing; it was their
family and I loved Jamie no matter who his father is!
Jamie, seemingly stunned and temporarily immobilized by what was written
and he'd spoken aloud, sobbed, gave me a hug, recovered, and jumped up and
away from me, careening around the coffee table, and, almost leaping into
Chief Kraft's outstretched arms, choking and crying, "You're my really real
Daddy!"
The only other time I saw an adult man cry was when my Dad's younger
brother, Lee, was killed in an auto accident, but today, I saw a man, who I
thought was tougher than shoe leather, cry, hug, and cry some more as
father and son embraced, secrets revealed and wishes fulfilled! Chief Kraft
acknowledging the son he'd fathered many years before and Jamie's hopes and
dreams of a "real" father he'd heard could "run fast as the wind" came to
fruition. In the midst of all of this, Ellen Kraft joined her husband and
son in their celebration, her eyes full of tears of joy as well!
It took some time for everyone to settle down and when it did, Jamie seated
himself between his mother and dad on the sectional and we listened to
Chief Kraft.
"Where to begin?" he questioned, scratching his head and finally decided
just to begin.
"Your Momma, Jamie, and I were high school sweethearts; not unlike you and
Whit, but without the commitment you two seem to have."
Ellen Long and Art (since his dad's name was Jim as well) Kraft, as he was
referred to at home but called "Jack" at school by his classmates because
of his initials (J.A.K.), started dating in their junior year of high
school. Art, naturally tan, black hair, hazel eyes, inherited his good
looks and skin coloration from his mother's side of the family. Art's
grandmother was Mexican and came to this country, initially, as a migrant
field worker; met and married a white farm boy and they had several
children, one of whom was Maria, Art's mother. Maria married another white
boy, they moved to Caudry, Missouri where Art's dad, Jim, took a job with
the county. They had no other children.
Art was an excellent scholar and a state champion cross country track
runner. Because of it, after high school graduation, he won a scholarship
to a university, where he intended studying law. Ellen went to work, after
high school, in a local law office. Promises to love each other forever
quickly fell to the wayside when Art, during his sophomore year, succumbed
to the wiles of Rebecca DeWitt, the daughter of a very wealthy lawyer in
Georgia. She was determined to capture the brown-skinned stud, come hell
or high water! Six months after they were married, their first son, John
(named after Art's good friend and college cross country teammate, John
Schroeder) was born.
During law school, son Jeffery was added to the family, and son Jacob came
along when Art was with the U.S. Border Patrol after his graduation from
the university with a law degree. It was a more than just a disappointment
for Rebecca when Art took the position, but for him he felt it was a
natural. He spoke Spanish with the fluency of someone raised with it as a
second household language and he felt comfortable dealing with migrants,
illegal or legal. Rebecca insisted he join her father's law firm where the
pay would be better, the living conditions decent, cultural advantages
better, and she wouldn't have to associate with "those" people!
His friend, John Schroeder, teaching and coaching at Central States
University Laboratory School, knowing Art's current situation and the hell
he was going through with Rebecca, notified him of the opening for Head of
Security at the University and encouraged Art to apply. Art's law degree,
law enforcement experience, and bilingualism made him more than qualified
for the position and was offered it and he accepted the position as Head of
Security and Chief of Campus Protective Services. He hoped this would
placate his wife and bring some peace to his household. It was not to be!
Art and Rebecca's marriage was long heading for the rocks as is a ship in a
storm tossed sea, before he entered his new position. After their move, to
what she considered still inferior housing compared to what they could have
in Georgia if he'd only relent and take a position with her father's firm,
things did not improve. As far as she was concerned, he was still a cop,
title or no title! It'd become a sexless marriage after Jacob was born
(Jacob was barely two when they moved to Central States University) and the
situation didn't really seem to improve with time.
When his father passed away, approximately fifteen years ago, Art went to
the funeral alone. Rebecca refused to attend with him and insisted the
boys stay with her. The loss of his father was traumatic enough, but when
she refused to attend the funeral with the boys, he was devastated, then
determined he'd had about enough of this bullshit!
After the funeral, he accompanied his mother to the lawyer's office to
review the will and settle the estate. His father and mother appointed him
executor for both of them because of his law degree, but had a local
attorney draw up the will. Working in the office was Ellen Long, divorced
and retaining her maiden name. Those long lost feelings for each other
seemed to surface, temporarily, at least long enough for them to enjoy more
than one passionate coupling, before Art returned to Jefferson.
Within six months of his father's death, his mother decided to sell the
house and accept an invitation, from her sister, to return to a community
near the Texas/Louisiana border, and live with her. In addition to her
sister, she also had two brothers and other family nearby.
Confessing to Art, "I never really felt welcome here," he understood her
desire to be near family.
It wasn't until her death eighteen months ago, Art, now divorced and living
alone, had any reason to return to Caudry and then only to bury his
mother's ashes next to his father. He stopped in the law office to check on
her will and hopes of seeing Ellen again. Low and behold, she was there and
he invited her out to dinner. During dinner they found there was still the
intensity of affection present they'd felt years before. On their second
date, after extending his leave from the university, he discovered Ellen
had a son. After being introduced to Jamie, noticing the strong resemblance
to him, one question led to another, until Ellen confided to him Jamie was
indeed his son!
A short courtship, mostly long distance, followed; marriage and the dilemma
how to break the news to Jamie. He was a special boy, slow in development,
especially reading and mathematics, mentally developed about two or so
years behind his chronological age, but a sweet boy, completely happy
living as James Arthur Long, living with his Grandpa and Grandma Long and
all of his cousins.
"And so, Jamie," Art concluded, "I thought you and I needed to know each
other better before I broke the news to you. I wasn't certain you'd want me
as your real daddy since I'd not been with you while you were growing up."
He hugged Jamie closely, saying emotionally, "I do know I really, really,
want you to be my real son!"
Jamie reached up, returned the hug, and as typical Jamie, kissed Art on the
cheek, saying, "I was so happy when Momma said she was going to marry you
and you'd be my new daddy 'cause I never had one before. Now, I've got you
as my real daddy and Momma too!"
Jamie was happy and thus, we were happy. Jamie had his Momma take a
picture of the two of us with his the camera on his new cell phone, and the
Friday night birthday party came to a wonderful end!
Continued in Part Two
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either
are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any
resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or locales is entirely
coincidental.
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