Date: Tue, 15 Oct 2013 21:21:49 -0700 (PDT)
From: Macout Mann <macoutmann@yahoo.com>
Subject: IT STARTED IN A PARK 9

This story is completely fictional and any resemblance to actual persons or
events is purely coincidental.  The story also contains explicit sexual
acts between males, so be warned!

This story is also brought to you through the generosity of the many donors
to nifty.org.  Without their contributions this site could not exist.
Please consider a gift to nifty.org today.  You'll be glad you gave.

Your comments and criticisms are appreciated.  Please write me at
macoutmann@yahoo.com.

Copyright 2013 by Macout Mann.  All rights reserved.



                         IT STARTED IN A PARK

                            by Macout Mann



                              Chapter 9

                            Jim and Sammie

"We all want to be your buddy, Sammie, but one thing you gotta do first
thing is apologize to Mr. Ballard and let him know you understand he can't
fuck around with you."

Sammie was in Jim's pickup.  Jim was driving him back to his dorm.  The boy
was still upset, and Jim was holding him close as they drove toward the
campus.

"I can do that," Sammie whimpered.  "But will you make love to me?  I gotta
be with somebody."

"I aint got a problem with doing anything you really wanna do," Jim
answered.  "I don't understand what this teacher-student deal is all about,
but it's important to Christian and you've got to respect him for it.

"Hell, I was working construction for a guy one time.  He was hot for my
bod and we messed around about every day.  No problems."

Sammie planted his hand on Jim's jewels.  "Lemme tathte your dick right
now."

Jim slowed down and parked in a darkened section of a tree lined block away
from street lights.  He unbuckled and unzipped, revealing his proud
half-hard organ.  "Is that what you need?"  he asked.

"Yeth."  Sammie gobbled up Jim's dick and began to suck like a demon.  As
his head bounced up and down, Jim's tool grew as hard as granite, and his
breathing responded to Sammie's onslaught.

"Shit, this kid really knows how to give head," Jim thought.  As he
surrendered to the stimulation of Sammie's practiced lips, he couldn't help
but wonder how he and his buddies were going to turn this pitiful child
into a man who could hold his head up and proudly face the world.  At the
same time he let his hand feel down Sammie's back, slide under his belt,
and slip into his ass crease.

Jim's orgasm was earth shattering.  "That wath tho wonderful," Sammie
cried.

Jim embraced the tender object of his concern and held him close for
several minutes before continuing on their journey.  When they reached
Sammie's dorm, Jim promised to be out front Saturday morning at ten
o'clock.  He would meet Sammie, but thusfar he had no idea what he had in
mind to do.



Jim apologized to his wife for being so late getting home.  "I got myself
involved in a project," he said.  He told her that a couple of his drinking
buddies at Mike's Place were at the university, and that they had a student
who'd had all sorts of problems at home and was really screwed up.  A
college age guy with the emotions of a kid and a lisp to boot.  They'd got
Jim to agree to help get the kid on the right track.  "I just couldn't say
`no'," Jim said.

"Well, sounds weird to me," Myra responded.  "Besides what are profs at the
university doing hanging out at Mike's?"

"Not everybody up at the school's a prick," Jim rplied.

"Still sounds strange to me," she repeated, "but go ahead and do your
thing.  You always do anyway."



Christian's class met Monday, Wednesday, and Friday.  And the next day
Sammie waited until all the other students had left before asking, "Can I
thspeak to you in private, Mith-ter Ballard?"

"Certainly, Mr. Caldwell.  I don't think we'll be disturbed here."

"I...I just want to apologize.  I realize now I been out o' line.  I
promith I won't bother you anymore.  But I...I hope I can be your
friend...yourth and Mr. Ramsay'ths and Mr. Hart'th too."

It was obvious that the apology had been very difficult and also was
heartfelt.

"Thank you, Sammie.  May I call you Sammie?  I hope we can be friends.  But
right now, let's worry about Art History, o.k.?"



"Why should I give a damn what happens to that little bastard?" Christian
spat.

"Because if you'd growed up like he has, you could be in the same fucking
mess!  The kid needs somebody to give a shit about him."

It was later that afternoon.  Jim, Vernon, and Christian were at a corner
table in Mike's Place.  The meeting had been called by Jim.  He reviewed
the pathetic events of the night before, including the desperate need for
love Sammie exhibited after the two of them had left Christian's pad.  They
needed to help the boy.

He brought Vernon around to his point of view fairly quickly.  It was only
when Christian in his own mind reviewed Sammie's plea for friendship after
his apology that his attitude began to soften.

"First of all," Jim continued, "he needs to get rid of that fucking lisp.
Aint there somebody at Sparta that can do something about that?"

"The Speech Correction and Audiology Department is supposed to be top
notch," Vernon ventured.

"Well," Christian said, "I guess I could ask Malcolm Pritchard if we have
any contacts over there."

"O. K., now you're talking," Jim told him.  "I figured I could work on
turning him into a male and showing him what a family is.  I've already
talked to Myra about him.

"And Vernon, how about you helping build up his delicate little bod?  You
think you could get him to go to the gym with you?"

"I aint goanna try to get him on a balance beam, but maybe I can get him
working out some."

"Great," Jim responded.  "And we all need to treat him like we like him.
I've decided to take him to the park with my boys tomorrow.  I'll bet he's
never even been on a set of monkey bars much less done a chin-up."

"Better make sure he keeps his hands off their dicks when he's around your
kids," Christian taunted.



The next morning Jim did have a talk with his boys, telling them that they
were taking another adult to play in the park.  He explained that Sammie
was different, that he talked funny, and that they were not to make fun of
him.  He also said that Sammie hadn't had a family that loved him like they
had, and they should be especially nice to him.

Sammie was totally taken aback when he found three wee ones in Jim's truck,
but accepted the fact that they would be going to the playground.  Once
there he was encouraged to join in; and although he could scarcely maneuver
over the monkey bars better than Jim's four year old, he soon got into the
spirit of things.  He was having as much fun as the kids and they were
enjoying playing with him.  For Jim it was almost like having a new son.
And Sammie was using muscles that hadn't flexed in years.

After a while Jim guided Sammie aside, while the youngsters continued to
roughhouse.  "Havin' fun?" he asked.

"Oh yeth!" Sammie replied.  "I jeth wish I could be like you.  Like be your
thun."

"We want to be your friends," Jim said, "and we want to help you...be a
guy.  Mr. Ballard's goanna see about doin' something about your lisp.  If
you got rid of that you'd feel a lot better about yourself, don't you
think?"

"Oh yeth!"

"And let me show you something.

"See how I walk.

"I don't priss around like a fucking woman.  I walk like a fucking man.
You can do that too.  Try it."



Later they went to Jim's house for lunch.  Sammie was fascinated how the
boys required different foods and feeding methods and how their parents
coped.  Myra's "gaydar," on the other hand was bouncing back strong
returns.

"Sure, he's gay," Jim told her.  "And we're not trying to make him
straight.  What we wanna do is help him be real.  All gay guys aren't
faggoty little twerps.  We've got a couple of gay guys at work, and
nobody's about to hassle either of them.  Sammie's just been bullied and
hassled and taken advantage of to the point he don't have any idea how a
guy's supposed to act.  And his family aint been any help."

"Well, I still don't see why you've taken an interest."

"I'll tell ya why.  When I saw this poor little son-of-a-bitch, I thought,
`What if one of our boys turned out gay?  I'd do anything to help him deal
with it.'"

"I never thought of that," Myra said.



After lunch, it was nap time for the boys.  Jim drove Sammie over to his
jobsite.  He got his tool belt, found a scrap two-by-four, and gave his
charge a lesson in how to hammer.  Then he found a soft ball in the back of
his cab, and began a game of catch.

Sammie had learned to drive a nail without bending it.  At catching a ball
he wasn't so successful.  Even at twenty feet with soft pitches his hand
and his eye couldn't seem to work together.  His frustration finally got
the best of him.  He hurled the ball into the dirt and broke into tears.

"I'm no good.  No good at all," he cried.

Jim rushed over and embraced his distraught charge.  Both had been
shirtless since starting their game, and Sammie relished the taste of sweat
on Jim's chest.

"Hey, man, we don't expect ya to be a Don Sutton.  It takes practice.  My
boys can't catch either, and you haven't had any more practice than they
have."

"I love you," Sammie sobbed.

"I love you too," Jim finally admitted.  "Not in the same way you love me,"
he said, "but like I love my three boys.

"You're becoming so fucking important to me, I don't know what to say.  But
I do love you."

"Will you fuck me?" Sammie asked.

"Shit, man," Jim replied, "didn't you hear a thing I said?  I aint loving
you with my dick, but with my heart."

"I understand...but I need your dick up my ass.  That'sth how I know you
care."

Sammie pulled away from Jim's embrace and pulled his jeans down to his
ankles.  Jim saw that since he'd found that Jim was a free baller, Sammie
was no longer was wearing anything underneath.

"Sammie, I told you before I'd have sex with you, if that was what you
wanted.  Shit, man, I stay hard most of the time.  But are you sure you
want me up your ass?"

"Yeth.  Yeth," Sammie cried.  And he bent over a nearby sawhorse.  He
spread his cheeks, revealing an asshole that had been used often enough
that a lot of lube wouldn't be needed.

Jim spit on Sammie's crack and on his own palm.  When he thought he'd wet
his dick enough, he stuffed the tip into the boy's anus and waited to make
sure he wasn't causing any pain.

"Give it to me!" Sammie yelled.  "All of it!"

Jim rammed his dick into Sammie's ass, scratching the younger man's
tailbone with his untrimmed pubes.

"Tho wonderful." Sammie panted.