Date: Wed, 12 Apr 2000 03:40:35 EDT From: Justin69SK@aol.com Subject: Chptr 13 (E) Justin's Story --------- Justin's Story Part II My Time Away Chapter 13 4/09/00 Written By: Justin Case --------- Disclaimer: This story is a story of love between gay teenagers. It also contains graphic sexually oriented material. If it is illegal for you to be here, you really ought to leave. WARNING: This chapter also contains the use of illicit drugs, and it is described in a realistic manner. The author has determined if you are in rehabilitation from drugs, this story could make you use again. Use of drugs other than prescription is illegal in most places; if you use them you may be confined. --------- Words from the author: Hey guys, 'sup? It's me again. Here is Chapter 13, the unlucky time of my life. I have been to hell and back. This is the beginning of my travels to hell. I hope you like it. I hope you read between the lines. A reader asked me if I had a plot in my story. I assured him my life was not like some cheap murder mystery you pick up at Barnes and Noble. Plot? What? I don't think the story of my life was a plot. Hehe. To the great many of you that ask if I am OK. YES today, and just for today, I am great. I have been through many experiences in my life. I am giving you a snapshot so to speak. It is my desire to leave you with a message of hope. There is love in this world. To receive it, I had to learn how to give it. Oh, and to the one reader who asked if I was in a twelve-step program, and then lectured me about his need to belong to one: I do not go to any twelve-step program, and never have. Yet. I believe in God, I have turned my life over to Him. It's what was right for me. Thank you, there are so many who have written me e-mails and im'ed me, with words of encouragement. I have received over four hundred letters in the few short weeks this story has been running. I am overwhelmed with feelings of gratitude. I have been bombarded with IM's and love every one of you. Thank you all for letting me share my story with you! To Ed, my editor, without whom this wouldn't be so well punctuated, and wouldn't flow. Thank you for volunteering your services to me. God bless you. ---------------------------------------------------------------- Chuck and I decided to call his friend Tony Chigro, an older gentleman that Chuck had met about a year earlier. Chuck had told me Tony was a friend of sorts. Whatever that meant. I had called Grams, and asked her to wire me some money. She had pleaded with me to come home. I couldn't. I didn't know why really, fear perhaps. I asked for a couple hundred dollars with the promise to pay it back. Gramps came on the phone. "Justin, where are you? Let me come and get you. Grams is worried sick about you. You know how she gets, she won't let me chase her around the table," he said into the phone. I could see his toothless smile. I could see his gray eyes looking through his glasses. I could almost smell him; he had that musky Grandfather smell. I guess he rarely showered, or he didn't believe in deodorant. Older people don't seem to have to bathe as much as young ones. "Gramps, I have a great opportunity in St. Louis. Chuck knows this guy. We're going there for work. Kind of like when you worked on the banana boats, Gramps. I need to find what's out here. Please, can I borrow two hundred? I promise to pay it back as soon as I get situated." "Yes, Justin, of course you can," he said into the phone, and to my Grandmother, "Red, get a paper and pencil." "Gramps, I really appreciate it," I said. My heart was racing. "No problem. Where do we send it? We'll go to Western Union as soon as we hang up," Gramps said; he was in charge. I made the arrangements with him. Chuck and I packed our things. We ventured out to the Western Union. Chuck's Dad had given him a hundred, so between the two of us we had three hundred dollars. We hailed a cab and went to the bus station. The bus trip was just like the one from Springfield. Stop and go, people on, people off. Cramped and long. We had called Tony several times and never seemed to connect with him. Someone else always seemed to pick up, and said Tony couldn't come to the phone. I felt unease. I would have preferred we had definite plans. Chuck kept insisting we had nothing to worry about. It took us a day and a half to reach our final destination. Chuck had finally talked to Tony, and everything was settled. One less thing for me to worry about. I couldn't believe it, another stranger taking in two young boys. According to Chuck that's what Tony did, he worked with teenage boys. Something about photography, and modeling. Chuck either didn't really know himself, or wasn't saying. It was a gorgeous day when we arrived in St. Louis. I'll never forget the great silver Arch to the West, on the sight line into the city. It was pretty; the sun reflected off it and made a rainbow. We saw a young hunk with a cardboard sign that read simply "Chuck and Justin". We walked up to the youth; he looked to be about fifteen. He had blonde hair and was real slim. His face was real smooth, and his blonde hair was in perfect order. He wore a pair of JNCO's and a real nice shirt. The shirt was a button-up shirt and was a little large as well. He had long slender fingers and on his right index finger he wore a silver band. He also wore his watch on his right wrist. His brown eyes were set perfectly on either side of his pointy nose. He had the slightest red lips I had seen. He introduced himself as Kyle. Kyle led us out of the bus terminal and took us to a brand new Lincoln Town Car. The car was powder blue and had a royal blue plush interior. Before we pulled away, Kyle looked at me. I had gotten into the front passenger seat, while Chuck had gotten in the back. "Hey, dude, grab me that little mirror out of the glove box, would ya?" Kyle said. I opened the glove compartment and retrieved a small mirror; it was about three inches by six inches. I handed the mirror to Kyle. He had taken a little brown bottle out of his shirt pocket. It was real small, and it had a white cap. He set the mirror on his right leg, and opened the bottle. He poured some white powder onto the mirror. I knew in an instant what he was doing. Cocaine, I had never done it. I had heard about it enough to know what he was doing. He then took a small glass tube out of his shirt pocket. He reached into the front of his shirt and removed a necklace he had. The ornament was a gold razor blade. He chopped the white powder on the mirror. Tap, tap, tap, tap, furiously he chopped at the powder, and divided it into three separate piles that were shaped like lines on this mirror. He bent his head down, and placed the glass tube to his nostril, and sniffed up a line. He handed the mirror to Chuck. I could see uncertainty in Chuck's eyes. Kyle then handed him the rest of the paraphernalia. Chuck sniffed up a line, and then handed everything off to me. I didn't want to look stupid. I had never done this. What was I going to do? I had to be accepted. I didn't have anywhere else to go. I sniffed the third line. Man, the burning sensation, my eyes watered. Within seconds I could feel it going down the back of my throat, and the taste is indescribable. I handed everything back to Kyle. He licked the mirror, started the car, and we were off. It took a few minutes; I was hungry when we got in the car. The hunger pains disappeared. I felt great. I had never had such a feeling. I wanted to run, I wanted to drive, I wanted to fuck, and I wanted to do everything at once. Instead I talked a mile a minute. My mouth had gone a little numb. We had to stop the car three times in the forty-minute ride to do more. I had never felt so alive. I had heard cocaine makes you feel euphoric, it made me feel so very, very alive. I had smoked pot up until this point. I had always made a promise to myself; I would never go any further with drugs than pot. Somehow I could justify using marijuana. I had always told myself that pot and cigars were natural, and meant to be smoked. I liked my blunts. Now though, I had found a new high, I had opened the door. I saw that we had entered a gated community. The streets were lined with large elm trees. The homes were all mansions, and yards fenced with steel or stone walls. Every driveway had security gates. The lawns that could be observed were all well manicured and professionally landscaped. Some of the homes had fountains; others had large abstract pieces of art. It was like something you see on television. We had come to the end of a cul-de-sac; the home in front of us couldn't be seen. I saw a brick wall, two brick pillars, and the gate. As we approached, Kyle used a remote control unit kept on the visor, and the gate opened. The Lincoln proceeded up a long winding yellow-bricked drive. We came upon the house; it was the biggest house I had ever seen in my sixteen years. The house was also yellow brick and trimmed with huge white pillars, six to be exact. The home was three stories, and on each side of the front were one-story wings. The drive wrapped around so as to pass the main entrance. The eight-car garage was across from the West wing. The garage was bigger than my little Harry Starr house back in Enfield, Connecticut. That seemed so long ago. We got out of the car and Kyle led us into the home. We entered this huge room, the foyer, the main entrance used for welcoming guests. This room had pink granite floors and was adorned with windows, and window seats upholstered with red velvet cushions. There was a winding staircase, directly across from the front doors, and it led to a balcony, and the second floor. This huge Waterford crystal chandelier hung, centered over the room and stairs. A very distinguished gentleman came down the stairs. He was wearing a pair of swimming trunks, blue and green, with yellow flowers. I had never seen such an ugly bathing suit. Kyle shouted, "Tony." This man was our host. Tony was a slender fellow. He had brown hair, and the sides were gray. He had a smooth chest and nice pecs. His legs were long and slender, and very hairy. He had a nice tan, and no evidence of tan lines showed. He looked to be about forty. "Chuck, it's good to see you," Tony said, as he came across the room and eyed me while reaching to hug Chuck. "I never expected to see you again. You are a sight for sore eyes." "Thanks, Tony. This is my friend Justin, the one I told you about on the phone. You sure you have room for us?" Chuck looked at Tony; both men had dark brown eyes. They were both good looking, and so was Kyle. I was in heaven, and hoped there was more coke. Tony let go of Chuck and stood back to take a look at me. "You guys want to party?" he asked. "Yeah," all three of us said in unison. "Great, Chuck, take Justin upstairs, Kyle will show you to your rooms, and change into some swim suits. We'll take a dip," Tony was saying as he walked out of the room, into the depths of the house. Kyle led us up to the second floor. "All the bedrooms are on the second floor, the first floor has the library, the billiards room, the dining and servants' rooms. The kitchen is the East wing, and has the dining hall off the back of it. The third floor is the gymnasium and Tony's private office, his private corner of the world. No one is allowed on the third floor without his permission. There are nineteen bedrooms, yours will be next door to each other, each bedroom has its own bath." We reached my room first. Kyle showed me in. "Whoa," I said. The room was about twenty feet deep, and twenty feet wide. In its center was a huge antique four poster bed. There was a writing table in front of the window. The floors were hardwood and dressed off with oriental rugs. There was a huge armoire, and an entertainment center. Next to the bed on either side were matching tables, a phone on one, and brass lamps on both. There was a sitting area near the window, and the room came complete with a sofa, and fireside chair. The chair was right next to the fireplace. My private bath was to the right of the bed, and on my left as I entered the room. The wall with the door had shelves, built in, and it was full of books. I was going to like it here. Kyle took Chuck to his room. I began to investigate my new room. I checked the closet; it was full of clothes. Everything you could imagine. I checked the sizes; most things would fit my medium build and average size. I looked in the armoire; it contained sweaters, and T-shirts, and shorts, and other sports type clothing. Day clothes, as I learned to call them. I began to change my clothes. There was a knock on my door. "Come in," I said. "Hey, Justin, you wanna do another line with me?" said Kyle as he entered my room. "Hell, ya," I said, I was dying to do more. I had even thought I saw some on the night table, and tried to snort it. It was only dust. "Cool," Kyle said as he smiled at me. He was so cute. His blonde hair was so cool. His brown eyes were so big, and those slight ruby red lips looked delicious. Kyle got the stuff ready; it became a ritual, as the time would pass. We each snorted two lines, one for each nostril. Kyle fixed his eyes on me after he did his. I looked back at him. Kyle reached his arms to me. He pulled me into a kiss. I couldn't resist. I wanted sex, and I wanted it now. I took my bathing suit off. My cock was rock hard, all six inches. I was in such a state of pleasure. I wanted him, and wanted him now. I reached my hands to his suit, and pulled it down. I cast my gaze on his cock. He was hung, he had to be at least seven full inches, and his prick was cut, and had a slight bend to the right. He had jet-black hairs surrounding his member, and a huge set of balls hung below. His legs were sparse with hair. His body was well developed. I was on my knees before his stiffened rod. I grabbed it and shoved my mouth onto it. I sucked him in and felt his cock fill my mouth. I could feel that familiar feeling of hot dick on my tongue. I began to move my head up and down on him. Kyle fell to the floor. He devoured my dick into his hot mouth. We were pumping and grinding on each other. The feelings he was producing were sensational. He grasped my ass with his hands and pulled me into him. I was ready. I reached my right hand around him; I played with his asshole as I sucked fervently on his large cock. I had trouble moving up and down on it because of the girth and the bend. I slid my finger into his ass. I felt his sphincter muscle suck my finger into his hot, wet hole. I heard him moan. I felt his stiff young cock swell in my mouth. I felt his spit running onto my balls. I felt his tight grip on my smooth ass. I began to feel the come. I could feel it raise up out of my balls. I felt my legs tense. I wanted to shoot my load. I wanted to explode in his mouth. "ARRGH, ummm MMMMM, aaa," I screamed as shot after shot of my load was dumped into his mouth. "FUCK, FUCK, YESSSssssssssss, OOOHH," Kyle moaned, his hot sweet juice shot into my mouth, five, six, seven; seven blasts into my mouth, as I jammed my finger in and out of him. "That was great, Tony is going to pay you very well," Kyle said as he released me. "Yeah, thanks, I needed that. Let's do some more lines," I said, as I began a journey into the depths of hell. --------- Well, boys that's all she wrote. I want to caution you all, this was a very tough period of my life. The worst is 'yet' to come. I have learned what that little three-letter word, means, and the impact of it. I want you to know, that I spent many a days crying silently to myself, I wanted to be released from the clutches of death. I didn't know where to turn, and 'yet' the answer was always there. It was no coincidence the driveway to Tony's mansion from hell, was the proverbial "yellow brick road" it was not metaphoric. I could have always called on the people who loved me, and be returned to love and compassion. I just didn't know how, or was too afraid to. I hope you are not lonely, and living in the depths of drug addiction and thoughts of suicide, as I was. Please click those heal, and return to 'Kansas' if you are. Write me at Justin69SK@aol.com