Date: Tue, 10 Nov 1998 09:50:10 -0500
From: Charlie <charlieje@mindspring.com>
Subject: Kenny, Part 6

       This is a story about a love between two young boys.  The usual
disclaimers apply: If you are under the age of 18, or reading such material
is illegal in your jurisdiction, then please leave this story unread
now. There are within the story explicit descriptions of sex between boys,
but that is not the main theme; so if your thing is reading stories that
are purely sex in nature then this story will probably not be to your
liking.
       The story is made up of both fact and fantasy. The people herein are
real, but their names have been changed. The rest of the story, as I said,
is a mixture of fact and fantasy . . .  perhaps how I wish it had
happened. As to what is fact and what isn't, I shall keep that to myself.
As usual, comments and suggestions are welcome; flames will be ignored.

                       Kenny_6: The Birthday Party

       Friday morning, July 17. Finally I was fifteen! The laws at that
time and place allowed fifteen-year-olds to get a drivers license, if their
parents would consent. I don't know how I did it, but I had managed to
persuade my dad to sign for me. The morning was brilliantly sunny and just
comfortably warm: around 75 degrees. By 9 AM I was in the driver examiners
office with Bob and Kenny Collins.  Dad was "busy", he said, and couldn't
come with me. So Mr.  Collins had agreed to lend me his car to take the
test. He had allowed me to drive quite often during the past six months and
was confident I would pass without a problem. And pass I did!
       "Now we're mobile!" Kenny said happily as I drove us all back to the
Collins house.
       "Don't forget," his father reminded him, "You still don't have a
car."
       "Don't YOU forget," Kenny shot back, "We're gonna take your car
tonight." Kenny had obviously put a lot of planning into this party, but he
refused to tell me anything about what was going on.
       We had got serious about saving money for college that summer, and
had both landed jobs as orderlies at the hospital. We worked a full 40
hours during the week, and often one or the other of us would work the
weekend as well. The money wasn't great, but considering our ages we felt
lucky to have a job at all. Of course working at the hospital provided us
access to a lot of information about our bodies that was otherwise
difficult to get. This we soaked up greedily, each of us anxious to
understand ourselves as well as we could, both to enhance our sexual
pleasure and to generally understand all the health issues we could. But
the Thursday of my birthday and the following Friday, we had both taken the
days off.
       As expected, there was no observance of my birthday at home. I don't
mean that to sound critical, it's just that Dad had other things on his
mind and didn't consider things like birthdays worth remembering.  But at
the time I was rather hurt. So I had left the house in the morning when
Mr. Collins had picked me up, and didn't plan to return till Sunday night.
       The Collins house was quite a different story though. For dinner,
which I noticed was early, there was my favorite food: roast turkey with
all the trimmings, and of course a birthday cake. They had all bought me
gifts, including Robbie who was away working, but had mailed me a really
nice shirt. After I had opened the gifts and tried on the clothes I'd
received, Kenny started getting really agitated.  "C'mon!" he coaxed, "It's
time to go! I got the car all loaded."
       "Loaded?" I questioned, "Loaded with what?"
       "You'll find out soon enough, if you'll just get your butt in gear."
Now my curiosity was really working, so by 7 PM Kenny and I were in his
dad's car backing out of the driveway.
       Kenny had a perpetual grin on his face that was driving me crazy!  I
was nervous anyway, driving his dad's car on my own for the first time, and
as hard as I tried I could not get him to say anything at all about what
he'd planned. He just sat there with that evil grin on his face and
directed me: turn right here, turn left there, get on Highway 2, etc,
etc. After about an hour and a half he said "Ok, stop here."
       "Stop where?" I asked. We were on a country road, a sort of
semi-main highway, and there was nothing in sight but a motel. "In the
motel," he directed.
       Kenny and his dad had found this place and made the necessary
arrangements. There were several cabins, each quite isolated, overlooking a
small river with one of the most spectacular waterfalls I had ever seen!
They weren't really elaborate cabins, in fact they were rather basic and
rustic, the type used mainly by fishermen.  But to two young boys who'd
never done anything like this before, they were like the Taj Mahal! The
reservations had been made and the cabin paid for, so all we had to do was
drive to the cabin and walk in.
       "What's goin' on?" I asked impatiently.
       "Nothin' much," Kenny smirked, "I just thought it was high time for
our honeymoon. This cracked me up. We'd been having sex almost every day
for over six months, and now we're having a honeymoon?
       "We haven't really been having sex," Kenny observed knowingly,
"We've just been playin' at it. Tonight we're gonna have SEX!"
       "Like what?" I asked. Kenny just grinned and said, for the
thousandth time, "You'll find out!"
       "Take a good look," he ordered, "'Cause it's the last you're gonna
see for a little while."
       "What does that mean?" I asked, but I didn't need an answer.  Kenny
produced a blindfold and ordered me to lean towards him so he could put it
on me. "What the blazes is going on?" I demanded.
       "Trust me, Charlie... Please?"
       "Not sure if I can, Kenny. You're making me really nervous."
       "So you don't trust me? Whadda ya think I'm gonna do? I thought you
knew me better than to think some awful thing about me."
       Kenny was starting to show me that pouting look that said I had hurt
him terribly, so what could I do? So I said OK and leaned over so he could
put the blindfold in place. "You gotta promise you'll trust me and keep it
on till I say you can take it off, ok?" he said as he tied it in place.
       "How long?" I wanted to know.
       "Not sure, but probably an hour or two. Believe me you're gonna want
to take it off, but if you do you'll ruin everything."  So I reluctantly
promised.
       That taken care of, Kenny scooted round the car and helped me out,
then after getting some things out of the trunk of the car and locking it,
he led me up to the cabin, inside, and instructed me to strip while he
brought in the luggage.
       "Luggage?" I questioned.
       "Yeah, well you can call it that. Just a few...  er... supplies."
Well, being suddenly stone blind I had nothing else to do, so I did what I
was told and stripped. By the time Kenny finished about three trips in and
out, I was naked except for the blindfold. "Ok," he instructed very
business-like, "I better take you to the bathroom before we start." I
didn't even bother to ask 'start what' because I was sick to death of
hearing "you'll find out." As I sat on the john I could hear rustling and
swooshing of material, as I later found out Kenny put something over the
bed. When I finished my leak I was led back out to the bedroom/living room
and told to lie down face up.
       "Hey!" I complained, "That's cold! What is it, rubber?"
       "Something like that. It's just a plastic sheet I put over the bed.
I'll be taking it off in a little while." It was obvious he was planning to
make quite a mess of some kind, but I had no idea how or why. As the plot
thickened I was more and more tempted to rip off the blindfold, but our
relationship was built on trust, and I knew Kenny'd be terribly hurt if I
did after promising, so I went along.
       I heard various things being unpacked, then water running in the
bathroom, evidently some kind of container being filled with water.
Silence for a minute or so, then a warm, wet feeling on my chest and
shoulders. It felt good, especially when Kenny started rubbing gently, even
if it was with a cloth in his hand. The warm water, obviously with generous
amounts of some kind of nice smelling soap, felt really good!  I was just
beginning to relax and enjoy whatever was going on when the rubbing stopped
at my waist, having completely soaked my upper body, including arms, from
waist to neck. Then I felt a scraping sensation on my chest.
       "What the hell??" I yelled, "You're... you're shaving me!"
       "Yup." was all the answer I got.
       "Why? And why my chest? There isn't much hair there anyway."
       "Oh, stop complaining and enjoy it. I'm not doing just your chest.
So I lay there, not particularly upset, but so curious I thought I was
going to bust. True to his word, Kenny didn't restrict himself to my
chest. He lifted my arms one by one and shaved under them.  To be honest
there wasn't much there, but what there was, was now gone.  He shaved all
the hair off my arms, chest, shoulders. It seemed that there was not a
square inch of my body that didn't feel that razor.
       When he had finished the front, he had me turn over and he denuded
my back too, then I felt the warm water again on my butt, down the crack,
and down the backs of my legs. Then the razor again.  I would never have
admitted it to Kenny, but I was starting to get into this, whatever was
going on. "Mmmmmm!" I moaned, "That really feels good!"
       "You just wait," Kenny chuckled. Shit! I'd given him another
opening.
       The warm wet cloth, followed by the razor, had found their way to my
butt. Kenny spread my cheeks and soon whatever hair was there was gone. He
circled my pucker hole gently but thoroughly.  Then down my left leg and up
my right, spreading my legs to get whatever was there.
       "OK, you're done on that side," he said finally, "Turn over."  More
warm water and soap, more scraping, and the line of hair starting to
develop from my navel to my pubes was gone.  More water, more scraping, and
my cock and balls were bald. Again down my left leg and up my right, and I
was completely hairless except for my head.  A pause, something being
shaken in a bottle, and then the most incredible smelling lotion was being
applied. "Ok," he instructed, "You can stand up now." More application of
the lotion after I was standing, then the rustle of the rubber sheet being
taken off the bed.
       "'K," he instructed gleefully, "Now lift your left leg." I did, and
something cold and light was slipped over my foot. "Now the other one," he
said. I did, then whatever it was slid up my legs and around my waist. It
felt sorta cool and oh so soft! Then something was being lowered over my
head, my arms being lifted and moved through sleeve holes. I was feeling so
relaxed I could have gone to sleep standing there as I waited to see what
was coming next. All except one part of me that is, and that part was
anything but asleep. I was so hard I was in real pain! I stood there for
what seemed like a long time, hearing faint rustling behind me. "Ok," Kenny
finally said, "I'm gonna take the blindfold off now. I felt his hands begin
to pull the blindfold off, but even before that I felt his hot breath, and
smelled his cologne, which was different from mine, but OH! So sexy!
       When I could see again I was standing in front of a full-length
mirror. Kenny was standing beside me, and... and we were both wearing silk
pajamas! His were pure white, and mine were red! If I thought they felt
good, I was totally unprepared for how they looked.  I looked at myself and
got instantly harder. I looked at Kenny and almost came on the spot! That
dark skin of his, contrasted by the white of the pajamas, was totally,
incredibly, AWESOME!  "C'mon," he said after he'd given me a giant hug and
kiss. I followed as he led me out the front of the cabin to the small
verandah, which overlooked the ravine with the waterfall below. By now it
was after 11 PM and totally dark, and it had cooled to about 60
degrees. The sensation of moving around in those silk pajamas, in that cold
air, was completely indescribable! Kenny put his arm around my waist as we
stood there and watched the water. At first I felt the cold of the silk
material, then only seconds later the warmth of his arms. Any of y'all
reading this who have a fetish similar to mine will understand how it felt;
others probably won't, and you have my sympathy.
       "Anybody ever tell you you're sexy in red?" Kenny asked as he
embraced me and then gave me one of his long, wet, deep kisses.
       "Nobody ever told me I was sexy in anything!" I answered when we
finally broke the kiss. My body at that moment was so alive I could hardly
stand it! Normal temperature around my shoulders, groin, butt; cold
sensations where the silk was touching lightly; warm where Kenny's arms
were around me. It was totally incredible!  When the radio Kenny had
playing softly started on one of our favorite love songs, I took him in my
arms and we danced, slow, gentle, each nuzzling the other's neck. If you
have never danced with someone you love in silk pajamas after having just
shaved down completely, I highly recommend it!
       I had a million questions for Kenny, but he wouldn't answer any of
them. I wanted to know how he'd figured this all out, how he'd arranged it,
how he knew... but he just said "Part two coming up.  Let's go to bed
before I jump ya right here!" I couldn't argue that point, so we went arm
in arm back into the cabin, pulled back the covers and sheets, and slid
into the bed.
       We rolled around the bed for a while, touching, feeling, kissing,
experiencing. Kenny seemed to want to be the aggressor, so I let him.  He
had certainly known what he was doing so far, and who was I to argue? I was
hardly coherent by that time anyway, my mind , my body's every nerve so far
into overload that I was sure I was going to short circuit. To this day I
don't know how it happened or when, but next thing I knew we were both
naked again and Kenny's tongue was roving all over my body. He didn't touch
my genitals, nor would he allow me to touch his. I think he knew that the
slightest of touch in that area would send me over the edge and he didn't
want that, not yet; he had other plans.
       I felt my legs being pulled apart, then a finger was gently probing
my anus. My whole body began to tremble. We had never before so much as
touched each other there. We'd talked about it, read about it, but we'd
never done it or even come close. My eyes fluttered open in time to see
Kenny's index finger exiting his mouth, coated with saliva.  As he began
probing my opening, a little more forcefully now, I gasped. "Stop me if I
hurt you," he whispered. Then I felt the finger enter me. He slid it in and
out a few times, working it sideways as he finger fucked me. I had never
felt anything so incredibly wonderful.
       "You got any Vaseline?" I asked, knowing what was coming.
       "Nope," he replied breathlessly, "Tonight there's gonna be nothing
between us. Not hair, not clothes, not even grease.  Just take me in your
mouth and get me well slobbered. But be careful, I'm getting real close." I
did as he asked, having to use all the self control I could muster to keep
from sucking as hard as I could. Then my legs were gently lifted to his
shoulders, and I felt something probing my opening that wasn't a finger. I
was so relaxed I probably couldn't resist even if I'd wanted to, but I
concentrated on relaxing more anyway. There was a gentle push, then a
little more forceful, and I felt a very slight POP as the head of Kenny's
penis slid inside.  "More!" I gasped, "Oh, yeah Kenny! Do it!" I could not
believe how good it felt, as inch by inch Kenny buried his five plus inches
of sex probe in my bowels.
       "Does it hurt?" Kenny asked when he was all the way in.
       "Yeah," I answered breathlessly, "A little. But I like it, hurt and
all. Do it, man!" And Kenny did. He began slowly sliding himself in and
out, every thrust sending my sensations into total overload. His hands were
on my shoulders now, I was like a limp rag doll as he plunged in and out,
when I felt the waves of orgasm building. "I'm...  I'm..."
       "I know," he panted, "I can feel it. You're cumming and so am I."
And with that we both moaned loudly, I felt him stiffen and shudder inside
me, I felt my own sphincter tighten around him, and as I started showering
my face, chest and belly with my seed, I felt myself being filled with
Kenny's orgasm.
       When the storm finally subsided, Kenny pulled out a very much
smaller, softer piece of meat and slid up the bed and lay beside me.
"Happy birthday, handsome," he whispered. I didn't answer, just turned my
head toward him and we kissed, then fell asleep.  The last thing I remember
feeling was the tingling of my entire body, the warm feeling of my recently
violated hole, and Kenny's hot breath on my neck.
       A while later I woke up to the feeling of my dick in Kenny's
mouth. I was very hard again as Kenny moved his lips up and down very
gently, coating me with ample amounts of saliva. It was obvious what his
intentions were. When he noticed I was awake he released my pole and smiled
at me. "Time for you to do the work," he stated.
       "Kenny," I protested, "I don't want to hurt you."
       "Did I hurt you?" he challenged.
       "A little, but it was a nice hurt, if that makes any sense. But I'm
a little bigger than you, and your body is a little smaller "
       "There isn't that much difference. Besides, I got your dick so slimy
I think it'd go into a keyhole if you pushed hard enough." We both chuckled
as Kenny rolled onto his back beside me. I knew he wasn't going to take no
for an answer, and I wasn't real sure I wanted him to anyway. But I had a
few plans of my own.
       Instead of poking him with my finger, I rolled him over on his front
and spread his gorgeous perfectly formed cheeks with my two hands, took a
deep breath, and began running my tongue up and down his crack. "Ohhhhhhh!"
he moaned, "That's incredible!" I agreed.  From my perspective it was the
most fantastic taste and sensation imaginable. I had been a little doubtful
at first, thinking about what I was about to do; but once I got a taste of
that crack I was hooked!  When my tongue found its mark I pushed it and it
entered.  Kenny quivered and moaned loudly. My tongue slid in and out,
reaching as far as it could, then out completely, then in again. I made
sure he was good and wet with my saliva, then rolled him over on his
back. "You ready?" I queried.
       "Two months ago!" he replied breathlessly. I straddled his chest
while he gave my cock another dose of his saliva, then I moved back between
his legs, lifted them to my shoulders, and began to push myself into him.
       After I felt myself in about an inch, I stopped when Kenny suddenly
went rigid. "It's hurting, isn't it?"
       "Yeah, a little," he grunted. "Just wait a sec, ok?"  I waited, my
eyes locked on his beautiful big brown ones, looking up at me like a
trusting dog, ready for anything its master was inclined to do. I felt him
relax again, then his head gave a very slight nod, and I began pushing
again, very slowly. I went in about two inches, then retreated, in two and
a half, back out, then three. Before long I had bottomed out. "That all of
it?" he asked. I replied that it was.  "Ok, let me just feel ya there for a
minute, ok?" So we both stayed motionless, he lying on his back with his
legs in the air, impaled by my raging boyhood, I on my knees looking down
at his liquid eyes. There were tears in those eyes!
       'It's hurting you isn't it?" I said with concern. I still didn't,
couldn't move.
       "Not really," he said as he started crying in earnest, "It's
just... I just can't believe that it's finally happened, and it's so
beautiful!  You're all the way inside me! I feel so... so..."
       "Warm?" I suggested.
       "Yeah," he answered, "But it's a different warm, not like any warmth
I ever felt before. You feel so huge inside me, as if my whole inside is
filled with my Charlie." Of course I knew what he was feeling, I had just
experienced the same thing. We stayed in that position for several more
minutes, each relishing the feeling of our bodies coupled. When Kenny began
gyrating his hips ever so slightly, I took his cue and began sliding in and
out of him.
       We both lasted a lot longer this time. Our first bone-rattling
orgasm, plus the long rest before I started making love to him, worked
together to delay the inevitable. But when I felt the wave of electricity
flood my body and began to quiver, then emitted a loud "Ohhhhhh Jeeeeeesh!"
Kenny responded by going over the edge with me.  "Oh MAN!" he screamed,
"Charlieeeeeeeeee!" It was as if it was the first time either one of us had
ever cum in our lives. The intensity was paralyzing!
       We had another short nap, completely spent and totally happy in each
other's arms. When we awoke I began quizzing my lover.  We knew there would
be more sex, neither of us was ready to quit yet, but first it was time to
talk.
       "Where'd you learn all that stuff?" I asked.
       "What stuff?" Kenny returned sleepily.
       "You know, the shaving, the silk pj's, the gentle massage"
       "Oh, that!" he chuckled. "Well, every swimmer knows about shaving
down. They do it before important meets. They say it can take a couple
seconds off their time."
       "Yeah, I know," I answered, "It reduces drag in the water. But what
does that have to do with..."
       "It isn't the drag that makes the difference," he corrected, "It's
that tingly feeling you get. Shaving takes all the dead skin off your body
and leaves bare nerve endings on the skin. When you're swimming you can
feel the water sliding over you and somehow that makes you go faster. I
just thought it'd make you feel good, and it seemed to work."
       "Man, did it!" I agreed. "And I suppose the silk just added to it?"
       "Yeah, I got that idea from the silk warmup pants I sometimes wear
when I get out of the pool. They always make me hard - the feel of them
against my body."
       "By the way," Kenny confessed, "They're not real silk, they're
nylon. I tried to get real silk but they were so expensive I would've spent
the next five years paying for them."
       "Not a problem," I answered, "They seemed to do the job. Kinda like
the ultimate experience for someone with an underwear fetish."  We both
laughed, then fell silent and kissed deeply, remembering that it was our
common interest in underwear that had brought us together.
       "So I take it you shave down quite often?" I asked.
       "Yeah, too often. If you shave too much you lose some of the
effect. But I like the feeling of being totally smooth. I don't really have
much hair anyway, but I like it better when it's gone."
       "What about pubic hair?" I asked, suspecting I already knew the
answer.
       "It's just starting," he said somewhat sheepishly, "But you might
never see it. I don't like it!"
       "It would help if you'd let it grow," I suggested.  "Every time I
see you naked I have guilt feelings about messing with someone who isn't
even old enough to have crotch hair."
       "Really?" he grinned at me, "Well you do a fine job of masking your
guilty conscience. I'm not sure I'm ready for what you'd do to me if you
didn't think I was a little kid." That remark earned him a poke in the
ribs, and for the next few minutes we were both little kids, roughhousing
and rolling on the bed, just completely at peace and loving being together.
       "But what about your dad?" I asked with amazement, "Does he know all
that's going on here?"
       "Not really. He helped me find the cabin and get it rented. I did
tell him we were gonna have a special party, just the two of us. I don't
think I had to tell him any more, he's not stupid. He helped me get the
pajamas and the massage lotion 'cause I had to send away for them, but
that's all he knows. He trusts us, Charlie."
       "US?" I echoed.
       "Yeah, US! He told me the other day he's getting so he forgets that
we're lovers. It's more like he's adopted another son."
       "He's a really cool guy," I agreed. And then I went silent, thinking
of just how very cool he was, considering everything he'd had to deal with
because of me.
       By the time we left the cabin Saturday afternoon, we were totally
exhausted and completely happy. I couldn't even begin to count the number
of times we'd coupled one way or another. My butt was slightly sore, but
with a feeling of fulfillment that I can only describe as "glowing." Kenny
said he felt the same way. We had performed other experiments, such as
sucking our own semen out of the receptacle where we'd deposited it, making
love with the tops of our silk pj's on, all sorts of demented things. Most
important, we both knew that our love would last forever, even if we never
had sex again. It was a feeling of euphoria, of complete contentment.
       To say we didn't indulge in anal sex after that would be a barefaced
lie! But we did restrain ourselves in consideration for our bodies, at
least while they were still growing. We didn't know if it were true or not,
but nurses at the hospital had told us that they could always tell in the
OR when someone was in the habit of having anal sex because as soon as they
were under anaesthetic, their anus would fall open, often releasing its
contents. We were both very determined to retain our muscle tone, including
sphincter muscles, so anal sex, as much as we enjoyed it, was reserved for
special occasions.  Of course restricting ourselves this way made it all
the more special when it did happen.
       
       I got to thinking on the way home from the cabins, that society
comes up with some pretty hurtful words for concepts or things they don't
understand or agree with. Words like Queer, Faggot, Homo; things like Ass,
Butt, Shithole, Cocksucker. Even words like "fuck" did not do justice to
the act it defines, at least in my experience. The homosexual community, of
which I knew now I was a part, had countered with more pleasant words like
"Gay," but that was still not in wide use. I wracked my brain trying to
think of a socially accepted way to describe what had happened between
Kenny and me all weekend, but there were none. So I decided that if we
couldn't describe it without making it sound dirty and demented, we would
just be content with calling it "The weekend at the fishing camp."
       
       When I finally got home Sunday night, my dad was in one of his
moods. He'd been drinking, and I knew from personal experience that booze
helped intensify his temper.
       "Where the hell have you been?" he demanded.
       "At Kenny's," I responded simply.
       "The hell you were!" he flared, "I called there three times and you
were never there. Bob told me you'd gone away for a few days.  Where did
you go?' I was starting to get a little angry, but I managed to keep my
cool. I had often received some pretty severe beatings when he was in a
mood like that, if I didn't show him the sort of respect he thought he was
entitled to. "We went to Smith's Falls," I said truthfully, "To a fishing
camp." well, that was the wrong thing to say.
       "Too bad you can find time to go off fishing with Kenny, but you
never go with me." Understandably he assumed that we'd been fishing.
       "I never got the feeling I was welcome." I countered
       WHAM! I spent the next few seconds clearing my head and picking
myself up off the floor where I'd landed after a cop's backhand had split
my lip and sent me reeling across the room and against the wall. I was
blind with rage and hurting, but I determined I wouldn't cry, wouldn't back
down. Dad was into power and control, and I simply had to live with that.
       "Your Uncle Brad called Friday night," Dad went on as if nothing had
happened, "wanting to know if you could come up and help for a few
weeks. I've been trying to get in touch with you ever since."
       "But I've got work at the hospital," I reminded him.
       "Working with that bunch of queers!" he countered, "And making lousy
wages to boot. Maybe you didn't hear me, I said Brad NEEDS you! I would
think you'd jump at the chance to do something worthwhile." I didn't even
try to tell him that orderlies ARE important and needed, and as much as the
word QUEER hurt, I let it go and went to the phone.
       Uncle Brad was my dad's brother, but as different as it is possible
to be. Ever since I can remember I'd been spending my summers on the farm,
doing everything I could to make him my dad. I adored him, and he loved
me. As I got older I became the machine operator of choice on Uncle Brad's
farm. I don't know why nor how, but I had always had a sort of affinity
with any kind of machine. By the time I was 12 I could bale more hay per
hour, plow more land, go through more mud without getting stuck than anyone
I knew. When I climbed up on that John Deere it was as if we became one. I
had learned to drive there, piloting an old 3-ton truck all over the
countryside. What farm boy hasn't driven all over creation long before he
was eligible for a license? Please don't think I'm bragging because I had
nothing to do with it. That's simply a talent that God gave me, and I put
it to good use every summer. Uncle Brad had come to the point that he
depended on me, even having tried to persuade me to leave home and live
with him after things had got really bad. I suspect if my mom hadn't been
alive I would have seriously considered it. But under the circumstances I
didn't.
       "Well, what did he say?" Dad demanded when I got off the phone. I
noticed that his mood hadn't improved much.
       "He's having trouble getting the hay in," I answered, "They get a
fine day but before they can get it cut and baled it's raining again. He
said," I added with a grin, "That no one could fly through a field like I
could, and he really needed to get that hay in before the end of July."
       "So what did you tell him?"
       "I told him I had basically two problems. I had to get out of work
somehow, and I had to talk to Kenny.
       "Kenny!" he roared, "What in the living holy hell does Kenny have to
do with it? Why do you have to consult with him?"
       "Because," I answered as my heart leaped to my throat, "Because
Kenny and I... uh.... Dad, Kenny and I are more than just friends.  We're
lovers, Dad. We can't stand to be apart."
       Well, I thought I'd seen some pretty king-sized rages over the
years, but nothing compared with that one. I knew this was neither the time
nor the place to make my announcement, but I was so angry, so tired of
living a lie. So now it was out, and I was on the floor again, this time
with a nosebleed.
       At that moment Ellen, my illustrious step-mother added her two cents
worth. "I knew there was something wrong with that kid," she said
knowingly, "He's just too nice, too polite, to be normal." I didn't answer,
but just gave her a look that I hoped said 'stay out of it, bitch!  You're
not my mom and you're not a part of this.' I think I succeeded because she
shut up and eventually left the room.
       "So you're telling me," Dad raged, "That you and he are queer?  And
you do all those disgusting things together? Christ!  He's turned you into
a common faggot whore!" Ok, thanks Dad, now I was mad enough to defend
myself.
        "How can you stand there and accuse me?" I demanded, "You pack my
mom, YOUR WIFE, off to a nursing home so you can have your girl friend move
in with you? Now you don't have to drive across town to get fucked. What
kind of influence is that on your innocent little boy?"
       He made another swing, but thankfully I ducked this one. If it had
connected it would probably have knocked my head clear off!
        "Well," I screamed, "I'm not near as innocent as you think, no
thanks to you. Where do you think I learned about sex, from listening to
the refrigerator hum? I certainly didn't learn it from you. Go ahead, tell
me that my loving one person, being faithful to him and caring about him is
any worse than what you did!"
       I had always been told that I was exactly like my mother: kind,
considerate, gentle. I was proud of that, but I carry my father's genes
too, and during this confrontation his genes went into high gear. Dad had
never seen me like this before; I had never even seen myself like this, so
I was on a roll and I didn't quit! All the frustrations, the fears and
doubts, came tumbling out. Dad just stood there, his eyes wild
with... well, with fury, but something else too. He saw something in my
eyes, in my demeanor, the he wasn't real anxious to deal with.
       "Don't ever get sick, Ellen," I yelled, "If he can't get his regular
jollies from you he'll find some other bimbo and you'll find yourself on
the street again where you belong! But I'm the sinner because I love the
sweetest boy on the face of the earth!"
        This time he didn't miss. As I hit the floor he was on top of me,
punching my face to a pulp, yelling about how I couldn't talk to her like
that. I was as shocked as he was, hearing myself say the things I'd kept to
myself for so long. I got ready to knee him in the nuts, but I remembered
my mom and how she had handled his rages. She had simply avoided him, tried
to make peace. Well, I wasn't about to make peace, but she had taught me
well: I could not strike my father, even to defend myself! Somehow I
managed to get out from under him and scramble to safety across the room.
       "That's it!" I screamed, "You just beat on me for the last time.
I'm not gonna take it any more."
       "I'll decide when I'm gonna stop beating you, you rotten little
faggot!" he bellowed as he lunged for me again. I side-stepped and he
missed and fell to the floor himself. To this day don't know how I managed
to avoid him. My eyes were blurred and almost closed with the blood, sweat,
and tears in them. Yeah, I know, there was a rock group by that name. I
have always wondered how they got their name.
       "I think you'd better go," Ellen advised, "Until you both calm down
a bit."
       "Go where?" I spit out at her, "This is my fuckin' home! I have a
right to be here! What's your excuse?"
       "Correction," Dad said as he again came for me, "This is MY home,
and your living here is merely a privilege I have granted you.  But after
tonight you may have ruined the best part of your life!"
       "Best? BEST?" I countered. "Well, if this is as good as life gets,
then I guess I'm happy Mom is where she is now. But you're NOT gonna kill
me! Whether you like it or not, I'm gonna survive! I'm gonna go to college
and be an engineer and then I'm gonna rub your nose in it! You think I need
you? Well I thought so too till now. Now I know I don't need you and your
kind! I don't fit your mold so you beat the snot outa me and kick me
out. You can do that, but you can't beat my spirit. And I'm gonna love my
BOY FRIEND! My lover KENNY! Bye, Dad, I love you, even if I wish I didn't."
       I went to my room and packed a bag with some of my favorite
clothes. It was more for effect than necessity, because most of my best
clothes were at the Collins home anyway.
       "Call him tomorrow," Ellen suggested as she came into my room,
"After you've both calmed down you can talk it out."
       "There's nothing to talk out!" I said, tears still blinding my eyes,
"And besides, who appointed you my guardian angel? And what part of FUCK
OFF don't you understand?" She opened her mouth to answer, but closed it
again. Perhaps she saw some of my dad in the venom in my eyes. At that
moment I think I was capable of doing her physical harm. Here was the woman
who had wrecked my home, and in my mind killed my mother, giving me advice?
I DON'T THINK SO!" She turned and left, and I finished packing and left
without further incident.
       
       "Holy sweet fuckin' shit!" Kenny exclaimed when he answered my
knock, "What the heck happened to you? DAD! MOM!," he called, "It's
Charlie! He's.... he's all beat to hell!" Mr.  And Mrs Collins arrived and
Kenny, confident that I was in good hands, dropped to the floor and sobbed.
       
       If you like this story or have any comments or criticisms, please
e-mail them to charlieje@mindspring.com. When I started this project I never
dreamed it would get so long; but the more I type, the more I remember, the
more I feel needs to be said. And to all who are patient enough to read it,
a very hearty THANK YOU! It's very therapeutic to write down your feelings
and experiences, especially when there are kind readers. Thanks again!