Date: Wed, 3 Jan 2007 04:33:36 -0800 (PST)
From: thinat20@yahoo.com
Subject: MIKE, HIS BIKE & ME

"Keep your mouth shut!   I'm trying to think."  I
didn't like hearing that, but still I looked away to
avoid eye contact and I didn't say anything else.
He expected that of me when the other guys are around
and  I didn't want him to send me home.  Not today of
all days.  Not until he makes up his mind about what
I'd said.  There were things about Mike that always
made me want to hang out with him, but today
especially.  I'd known Mike for about six weeks and
by now I was getting kind of familiar with what he
expected.

Hell, I was use to being told to keep my mouth shut.
And not just by Mike.  That was no big deal by
itself....it was just the way he'd said it that
bothered me some.  He said it like he thought I was a
stupid pain in his ass and that isn't how I wanted him
to think of me.  We are both the same age, 16,  but it
seems like I'm always working hard trying to please
him.   Too often though I end up doing the opposite
and annoying him instead!  I'd made an exciting
suggestion to him, but I also had been stupid and used
poor judgment by blurted it out with all the guys
around.  I should have made my suggestion when we were
alone.  He treats me  differently when it's just him
and me.

I have regular friends too.  Well, by regular I mean
my buddies from my old neighborhood.  I mean my old
neighborhood when I was living with my mother.  She
lives in Melten, Pennsylvania...... a suburb of
Philadelphia.   I didn't have to try to please my buds
there....we all got along in a regular way.  That's
all in the past  though.   A couple of months ago my
mother wanted to move in with her asshole boyfriend
and he said she could,  but I couldn't.  She choose
him and sent me packing to my father.

 Now I have to stay with my father here in Wildwood,
New Jersey.  It's a resort town and during the summer
thousands of summer residence flock into town to enjoy
the sun, the beaches and the boardwalk.  There are
some 'tough' sections of town and my father lives in
one of them.  He works at a casino in Atlantic City as
a 'blackjack'  dealer.  I don't know why he doesn't
live in Atlantic City where he works. I asked him and
he said, " Because I don't, that's why".    Very
illuminating.....

Even before I had to move in with him permanently I'd
been spending my summers here for the past six years.
That's how long my parents have been divorced.  Mother
got tired of my dad slapping her in the face and so
she divorced him.  I'm tired of him slapping me in the
face too,  but I can't divorce him.  Guess what
though....as soon as  I'm 18 years old, well then it
'sayonara'  daddy!  I'm outa here!!!  As a father he
ain't much.  Mother wasn't much as a mother either,
but at least she didn't smack me.    Mostly she
ignored me.  She doesn't even have to do that now.

Usually I spend a very lonely summer here because I
don't know anyone.  Here, where my Dad lives,  there
are no kids even close to my age and my efforts to
make friends on the boardwalk haven't ever been very
successful. Those kids are only here for a few weeks
vacation and then back to their own
homes.......wherever that might be.  Now that I'm here
year round I felt desperate for a friend, but in the
early going...no luck.

Then one hot day in June I met Mike.    He was  across
from our house.  I was on the little front porch of
the old dump my father rents and calls home.   I heard
someone call out,   "Hey, you!  Come here a second."
He was a tall kid.   About six feet  and lean, like
me.  He was sitting on a motor bike on the other side
of the street.  "Are you deaf?  Come over here!"   I
squinted my eyes at him as I wondered who he was.

He agitatedly waved at me to come over to him and so I
walked across and asked if he was talking to me.  "Do
you see anybody else around, numbnuts?"  he asked
sarcastically.  He told me to hold the motorbike by
the handle bars while he untangled his pant leg which
had gotten caught on the kick stand.  His dungaree
pant leg was firmly attached to a part of the kick
stand right where it  screwed onto the bike.  He did
some cursing trying to get his leg free and ended up
ripping a piece off the pant leg before succeeding.
"Fucking piece of shit!"...  The kid shouted as he
kicked the bike and I almost lost my hold on it.

In a resigned, calmer voice, "Do you have a
cigarette?".  I told him that I don't smoke and he
muttered something about me being a fag.  He acted so
tough, but he didn't look tough.  His light blond hair
was buzz cut  and he had a small hoop ear ring in each
ear.  Other than that he had kind of a sunburned
'baby' face.  I didn't know what to make of him.  I
asked him if he lived around here and he cocked his
head a little bit to the side and said, "You're not
retarded are you?   What did you think?  I flew in
from far off, just me and my bike.  Just so I could
get my pants tangled up in front of where you live.
Is that what you think?"

My jaw dropped open as I tried to absorb this
unexpected rudeness.  Why was he pissed off at me?  I
said, trying for humor,  "Duh, does that mean you do
live around here?"  and I chuckled a little to show I
was kidding.  Boy, I thought....I must really be
desperate for a friend...

He said nothing.....just pulled the bike away from my
hands, stomped down on a lever and the bike roared to
life.  His back tire squealed loudly on the side walk
as he took off.  He'd neglected to say "thank you" for
my help.  Instead he ran over the my right foot.
Surprisingly it didn't do any damage.  Not that he'd
care one way on the other.  I had another chuckle as I
walked back across the street thinking,   "There is a
very good chance we're not going to become best
friends".

The high point of vacation season was upon us and that
meant over 250,000 people crowded into the town that
held just under 5,500 during off season...October to
May it was kind of like a ghost town.  During the
summer it was difficult just  to walk around.  Not a
great place to live if you ask me.  So far.... nobody
has asked me.  My dad assigned me chores to do and he
paid me to do them.  Basically,  I replaced the
cleaning firm he'd previously employed to keep the
four rooms and a bath reasonable clean.  In addition,
I made sure we had OJ and milk and a few food items he
liked.  Every morning I walked to a convenience store
to buy him coffee and a Danish and cigarettes.  Every
morning!    I also emptied trash and changed the bed
linens and did the wash.  I did everything.  I spent
about an hour a day, on average, with all these
'chores' and I was real conscientious about doing them
right too.  My reward was $50 a week if I did a good
job and if I screwed up it was the aforementioned
smack across my face.

Dad was tall and strong with a big gut.  He was 48
years old, but looked older because of his gray hair
and red scrunched-up 'drinkers' face.   I liked my
looks Ok as, happily,  I took after my Mother in that
regard.  I have light brown hair and green eyes and a
winning smile.  Ha Ha.....If I do say so myself.   The
old man didn't look at me too much because I think I
reminded him of Mom.   He was not a lot of laughs.  He
thought I was OK as long as I did my stuff correctly
and stayed out of his way.  He never asked how my day
went. Never asked me anything.

He worked the day shift at the casino which was easier
than the night shift, but he got less tips during the
day  then he'd get if he worked  nights.  He didn't
date woman (or men) and spent his evenings at a local
bar drinking beer and smoking cigarettes.  As near as
I could figure out from the little he said,  he liked
arguing politics and shooting pool with his cronies.
I was free to come and go as I pleased.  He had his
bedroom and I had mine.... although mine was a very
small bedroom.  Once in a while I'd fix us dinner to
eat together,  but usually we ate separately, what and
 whenever we felt like.  As a 'parental unit' he
pretty much sucked.   On the other hand.... I liked
the freedom his lack of parenting allowed.

When I'd moved in with Dad for good my mom and me got
me squared away with school for the coming fall, got
my computer and my few possessions moved in and then
she was pretty much done with me.  No hug and no kiss.
 "I'll call you sometime Richie,  to see how you're
doing.  Don't piss off your father!  He's not as nice
as I am.  See ya, Kiddo." And that was that.  I took a
while looking  around the immediate neighborhood.  I
didn't spot any kids at all, never mind kids my age.
Then, the next day I had my initial meeting with Mike
and his bike.........the incident I just described
above.

I didn't see him again for a week.  Each day after all
my chores were done I went walking.  Block by block...
I walked to get reacquainted  with the neighborhood
and see if there was anybody alive in this part of
town who was my age.  We lived too far from the beach
and boardwalk to have many tourist here.  Tourist
rented  closer to the ocean. These old places were for
townies who did all the menial jobs to support the
250,000 tourist.  That's 250,00 total people for the
summer, not all at once.  After I covered all around
the neighborhood I started working my way toward the
beach.  The temperature was always near 90 degrees
during the sunny part of the day.

A week into it  my exploration I  finally did reach
the beach and the boardwalk.  Total walking time was
about 40 minutes from the house to the ocean.  The
ocean is big as you may know and right in front of it
was a great wide beach that stretched as far as I
could see in both directions.   Just before the beach
was the boardwalk which also stretched as far as I
could see in both directions.  I'd seen it all before
of course, but it is all pretty impressive.

I went up the ramp to the boardwalk and there was that
sunburned, baby-faced kid and his motor bike.  I
recognized him immediately.  He was with two kids
about our age who looked like bad asses.  A skinny red
headed kid and a mousey brown haired chubby kid.  They
both had buzz cuts just like babe-face,  but these two
each had a nasty tattoo or two plus the ear rings and
two or three other piercings and most of all...   an
attitude....  Pirates, perhaps, is what they hoped
they were  protraying.    Neither of these two had a
baby face.  They all wore jeans, black sneakers and
T-shirts with different logos on them.  I had on
raggedy Bermuda shorts and a sleeveless T shirt  and
old sandals.  I thought it best not to go up to them.
If the bike kid had been alone I would have said "Hi",
but the other two just had  bad news written all over
them.  I turned around to walk back down off the
boardwalk when I heard "Hey you!  Numbnuts.  Come
here!"

"Fuck" I thought, but I turned around and walked over.
 Sure, it was a long shot for being a potential
friend, but it was something... maybe.  Baby face
said, "Well, if it isn't the smart aleck wise-ass.
What the fuck you doing following me around?  What,
are you queer for me or something?  You stalking
me..is that it?  Think I'm cute? Or what?"

Hmmm ....    This potential friendship might be a much
longer 'long shot' than I  initially thought it would
be.  I said   "No, no I'm not following you.  I had no
idea you'd be here."   Right back at me...    "What
the fuck you talking about?  I was here first and you
show up.  That is 'following' someone.  Don't you know
what the word means? "   He asked that question as he
grabbed a fist full of my hair and using his knuckles
pressed against my head  he was almost pulling my hair
out by the roots.  This kid was strong.  My eyes
started tearing immediately because this really hurt.
"Please, man . That really fucking hurts."

Red head says, in his semi-lisping sounding voice,
"This faggot following you around Mike?"   That was
the first time I'd heard 'baby face's'  name.   "Mike"
used his other hand and pinched my nose real hard with
his thumb and index finger saying  "Well,  ARE YOU
following me around,  smart ass... or not?"  I was in
pain and tears flowed down my face, not from crying,
but just because of the pain.  He continued to pinch
my nose and now the nose pinch caused mucus to begin
drooling  out of my nose.  It was hard to say anything
but I said "nkew, I not follow yues".  "What the fuck
kind of language is that?"  Mike asked with a fake
concerned look on his face.  He let go of my nose but
deliberately and slowly dragged his index finger
through the mucus all aong my upper lip and then down
my top lip where his finger  caught on the top of my
bottom lip pulling it inside out and pressed down on
my chin.... so my bottom teeth and gums were showing.
He put his face real close to mine and looking sincere
said "You have very white teeth."  And he rubbed his
dirty finger all along my bottom teeth and then up
under my top lip across my front teeth.

The hair pulling almost had turned into a dull ache.
I still couldn't move my head and both my hands
loosely held onto the wrist of Mike's arm that was
pulling my hair.   I could smell the nicotine on the
finger he was pushing across my teeth and now he
pushed his finger in my mouth and all over my tongue.
"Don't bite my finger numbnuts.  You probably would
like to bite my cock though, right?"  I talked around
his finger to say  "No Mike, I don't want to bite
anything.  Really.  Please let go of my  hair."
"Did I say you could call me Mike?  Whats your full
name numbnuts?"  ..........I told him 'Richard Mealey'
and he said .. "Richard?    Are you shitting me?
Richard?    You are a fag, aren't you Richard?"

Why I didn't tell him my name was  "Richie" I can't
say.  I've been called 'Richie' all my life.  Maybe
because he said my 'full' name.  I don't know, but he
had me totally fucked up. "My friends call me Richie"
I said.    "You going to buy us a pack of cigarettes
Richard?" said the redhead, still using that strange
lisping voice.  Chubby and Mike thought this a grand
idea and Mike said I could join their gang.... but,
first  I had to stop stalking him and I had to buy
them a pack of Marlboro Lights 100s right now.  "OK?
Richard.  Richard,  OK?"    I said "Yes. OK.  Please
let go of my hair."     Mike let go of my hair with a
shove on my shoulder and I almost fell down.

He looked at his hand and there were maybe a dozen of
my hairs stuck to his fingers.    "Get your hairs off
my hand, Richard!"  He held it out  and I brushed his
hand with mine knocking off the hairs.  They floated
away in the breeze.  Then Mike to hold of my hand and
held onto it like a boy and girl would hod
hands.....he  said,  "Is this what you wanted to do,
Richard?  Hold my hand?"   It felt so odd to be
holding hands with another boy.  He continued to look
me in the eyes while holding my hand.   I took a deep
breathe and then another one....it was all so unusual
I didn't know what to do.  The whole mugging lasted
less than two minutes, but my head ached.

Mike dropped my hand and said impatiently,  like he
was finally bored with the whole matter..... "Right
over there Richard...that store sells everything
including cigarettes.  Marlboro Lights 100s.  Don't
forget, and don't think about trying to run off."
Then Mike looked at his two buddies and shook his head
saying,      "Fuck,  what am I thinking?  He's not
running anywhere.  Are you Richard?  You wouldn't have
the balls."    Using both hands he slapped me on both
my shoulders  too hard.

I said  'No, I wouldn't run off',  and I started to
head over to buy the cigarettes.   "Wait a second
Richard" Mike said as he was apparently getting his
second wind..... "You're all sloppy looking Richard.
You don't want to look all sloppy looking buying us
cigarettes.  Do you?  Now just stand there and keep
your hand at your sides and I'll straighten you up.
Your hair is a mess Richard."  With that he put both
his hands on my head and started ruffling my hair.  I
lifted my hands to push his  away  and he got my jaw
in a tight grip that hurt and told me to keep my hands
down at my sides like I was told to do.  Then he
patted my head and ran his fingers all through my hair
a number of times and up the back of my head two or
three times.  When he was finished with my hair it was
all sticking up....  ....he touched all over my face
with both his hands and was both gentle and rough
about it from one touch to the next......and he
squeezed my shoulders again and ran his hands up and
down my arms and finally, using both his hands,  he
tugged up on the front of the  waist band of my
Bermuda shorts giving me a tight wedgie.

"OK Richard.  You look good now.  I got you looking
all better.  Run over and get our cigarettes and
report right back here.  Chop chop!"  The oddest
thing........my cock was almost bone hard.  Thankfully
it was covered pretty much by my T shirt.  I didn't
have a clue what to make of the boner!!

I walked over in a daze and brought the cigarettes
getting a shock in the process.  On the boardwalk they
were $7.00 a pack.  I'd never smoked and was only
vaguely away that they were kind of expensive.
Nothing to be done about it though; just pay for them
and hopefully buy my release from Mike the bully.  I
wanted to get the fuck off that boardwalk.  I handed
the cigarettes to Redhead because he had his hand out.
 "Richard, where are the matches?  Go back and get the
matches Richard.  We can't smoke without matches.
That's how you light a cigarette Richard.  With a
fucking match."  Back I go and get the matches.  Then
it was everyone gets a cigarette.... including me.  I
have no fight in me and take the cigarette and the
light.  My first inhale almost has me passing out with
coughing.  How could that thin looking smoky air hurt
my lungs so badly?  Mike, Red and Chubby are laughing
hysterically.  They made me finish that cigarette and
one more after it.  I took little tiny inhales and
blew it right out trying to keep it out of my lungs.
Some got in my lungs anyway and I felt slightly
nauseous.

"You smoke like a girl Richard.  You're not a girl are
you because you can't join our gang if you've got a
cunt."  I reassured him, "No, Mike...I'm not a girl."
He said,  "Ok Richard run along now.... your first
gang meeting is over.  Wasn't it fun, Richard?"  I
said, " yes, it was fun."  I waited for a second and
Mike went " Go,   go... the meeting is over Richard."
I slinked away slowly.... afraid they'd be something
else, but there wasn't.  I was down off the boardwalk
headed for home.  Mike didn't say "Thank you" this
time either.  I felt sick in a number of ways, but I
couldn't think what to do about it.

Now I had to stay away from the boardwalk and that was
really disappointing.  I had big plans for
re-exploring all up and down it's entire length.
Amusement rides and a million different kinds of food
stands and junk shops and beach supplies and salt
water taffy and just everything you can think of was
represented on the boardwalk.  Maybe I'd even have met
a friend.  But for now I figured I better stay clear
of there.  I didn't want to run into my 'gang'.  I
watched out for Mike, but after a week I was less
diligent and ran into him outside the convenience
store while I was going for the morning coffee, Danish
and cigarettes for my Dad.  I just wasn't paying
attention.

Red head and Mike were coming out of the store and
Mike's bike was right there to be seen if I hadn't
been in a fog.  "Richard!  Richard!  Richard!  You
missed the last gang meeting.  Where ever do you hide
Richard?  We haven't seen you around in ages."  Mike
was getting up close to me as he was saying all that.
He and I are lean and I'm about 5'10" so he's about
two inches taller.  I have to say he seems quite a bit
stronger than me if our first encounter is any
indication.  I immediately started getting flustered.
He walked right up to me and I tried to say "Hi."  but
it caught in my throat and came out like a squeak.

His chest was bumping my chest when he said, "Richard,
I asked you a question."   Before I could answer he
grabbed a fist full of my crotch.  His fist had both
my nuts and a part of my cock and he squeezed tight.
"Please Mike..that is wicked painful."  I grunted out
as I bent at my waist.  Mike massaged my crotch a
little, but more gently then his first grab.  When I'd
caught my breathe and relaxed  slightly he put his
other hand behind my head and pressed it against his
chest.   He rubbed up the back of my head a few times
then let go of my head saying quietly to me,  "Am I
hurting your nuts?"   I started to straighten up an
ask him to let go of my nuts when, he used the hand
that had been rubbing my head to grab the waistband of
my shorts.  I was wearing flimsy nylon basketball
shorts and with that tight grip on the shorts he
pulled me up tight against him .  In the same quick
motion he let go of my balls for a split second, then
quickly grabbed onto my cock with two of his fingers
and his thumb.  Every unexpected  thing he did had me
off balance and at his mercy.  Using two fingers and
his thumb he stroked up and down on my flabby cock a
few times.

"Hows that feel Richard?  Good?  You know,  Tony here
says you had some tenting in your britches the last
gang meeting and I says...Tony, you think Richards
some kind of queer or something?"   Mike was gently
stroking my cock as he talked and I was getting the
beginning of a  boner and gasping for air.  His strong
hold on my waistband kept me tight up against him..
Our faces rubbed together.   I couldn't move away from
him and his continual gentle massaging of my now
totally hard cock had me grunting and blushing like
crazy.  My faced burned bright red.  My hands were
gently holding onto his waist. It almost seemed as if
I should put my arms around him.   I was fully boned
and Mike was doing full, swift  strokes on my boner
from the outside of my thin silky shorts.  The head of
my cock had slipped out of the pee slit of my boxers
and was rubbing against the inside of my silky shorts
with each stroke of  my boner and the sensations all
around my groin had me squirming in his grasp..

  "Jeez, Richard, are you fucking deaf?  I ask you how
this feels."  All I could say was "Please don't...Ahh
ohh!    Please stop"  We were very close together with
him pulling me into him by that strong waistband grip.
I could smell his cigarette breath on my face.  I was
aware of Mike and my cock...that's about it.  He held
me there like that for a couple of minutes and I began
to feel the most erotic feeling I'd ever felt.  He
quickened his strokes and I knew that there was no
chance now that I was going to be able to stop my
organism.  I was very close to cuming.  "Please stop
Mike...I'll buy you another pack of cigarettes..Ahh
Ah Ah Ah..." I couldn't even talk anymore and went up
on my toes as the feeling in my groin over came me.

His face touched the side of mine and he whispered
"How does this feel Richard?"  I was beyond talking as
a squirt of cum shot out of my boner and quickly
stained through my pants.  "Aghh  ohh" and another
long squirt as I just gave up and squeezed three
smaller squirts into my pants."  I was pretty much
laying against Mike's body by now.  Redhead (Tony)
squealed "Look at that.  The fag just cam in his
pants."  A couple on the other side of the street
looked over, but they couldn't have heard what Tony
said or imagined in their wildest dream what was going
on.

Mike held the waistband for another minute as he
breathed in and out with short, hot bursts and then
slowly let go of me and said, in a breathless voice
"Did you just cum in your pants Richard?"  For the
first time in years I felt like crying.  I had a big
wet spot on the front of my pants.  I think maybe even
Mike was embarrassed for me this time.  He left it at
that.  None of us knew what to do next.  Mike started
to turn away but did one last grab of my head in
between both his hands and looked at my face.  "Look
at me, Richard.  You OK?"  I just barely nodded my
head up and down.  I couldn't decide what that look in
his eyes meant.  His parting remark was " Geez,
Richard, I didn't know I turned you on so much.  Don't
miss our next gang meeting Richard.  OK? .... OK?"  I
just nodded my head again and turned around and went
back to the house to change my pants.

The humiliation was huge, but it only involved Mike
and Tony.  I rationalized that I didn't care what
those two thought....fuck them!   But, I still had to
consider that I cam in my pants being jerked-off by
another boy....and I cam quicker than I ever do when I
jerk myself off.  No one has ever touched my cock,
that I knew of, except me.  Until now.  Well,
technically Mike hadn't touched my cock except with my
boxer shorts in between; not with his bare
hand......as if that was important.  I shook my head
realizing that Mike's second grab had been a lucky one
to get my cock in  just the right position enabling
him to jerk me off like that...  I was jogging back to
the house now, anxious to get out of my cum soaked
pants.

My Dad was in the shower when I ran into the house so
I avoided a slap in the face at least.  I was quickly
changing my shorts and underwear thinking of Mike's
hand around my cock and I started to spring another
boner......what the fuck??!!  I'm not queer.  I also
didn't want to think about it.  I ran back to the
convenience store to get the old man's breakfast
stuff.  My goal was to completely forget about the
jerk off and I was actually able to do that for a
short while, but unfortunately not for very long.  I
didn't hate Mike and I thought I really should.  This
was a big concern.  Why didn't I despise that bastard?
 Why didn't I?   I tried to figure out what it was all
about.  A totally new experience that was really
beyond belief.  Mike being gay did not seem likely.
More likely he's is one of those gay 'basher' guys.
It wasn't a subject that ever came up in my circle of
friends.  When I had friends, that is.... we didn't
know gay guys OR gay bashers.

Analyzing the gay angle I thought of my two best
buddies and me having a few circle jerks when we were
about 13,  but that didn't last because Dougie said it
was too queer.  I don't recall being particularly
disappointed.  No one has ever touched my cock except
me.   Then I tried to figure out what I think about
when I jerk off??  Hmmmm?...what do I think about?  I
guess,  nothing....I just think about how it feels.
Maybe I should be thinking about girls.  I don't think
about boys... at least.  When I finished my morning
chores I took my normal long walk and thought about
Mike jerking me off and it consistently gave me a
stiffy.  It also scared the hell out of me.  I know I
don't want to do anything with a boy except be a
friend.....right?

In the bathroom later that afternoon before my shower
I had my usual wank and it was feeling good...I wasn't
thinking about anything in particular except how good
it felt to play with my cock.  Then, as an experiment,
I thought of Mike wanking me off that morning and my
cock swelled and quickly I was grunting and fisting my
cock in a blur and shot off a stream of cum that came
out with such force it burned my pee hole.  Now I was
really scared and I am embarrassed to say I cried a
dumb cry for a minutes or so.  I don't know why, I
just did.

Over the next few days I went 'on line' for hours at a
time trying to find out what was wrong with me.
Sadly, there wasn't anyone I could talk to about this.
 I did 'Buddy List' ICHAT with quite a few kids from
the old neighborhood, but none of them were gay....as
far as I knew anyway.
There is an enormous about of information on line, but
that became part of the problem.  Seemingly
conflicting information from one site to the next.
Many so called facts were really just someone's
opinion.  It wasn't really a help.  I was still in the
dark.  Did a single encounter with another boy jerking
me off change me into a homo?

I tried thinking about other boys while jerking off
and the results were inconclusive.  Thinking about
Mike while jerking off however,  was definitely
conclusive.  I cam like a faucet......and it felt
awesome.  The feeling didn't last long though because
I didn't want to be gay.  I made myself think of
anything but Mike when I wanked,  but usually
something about him popped in my mind somewhere along
the way to my inevitable sperming.  Damn!  After a
week I stopped trying to analyze the whole mess and
concentrated on another plan.  I wanted to run into
Mike again and see if whatever happened, and I really
had no expectations of what might happen, but maybe
whatever it was that did happen  might clear up
something .... ...anything.   I guess I just wanted to
see him again... It wasn't much of a plan.   Find
Mike.

He wasn't around.  Neither were Redhead or the chubby
one.  I was back on the boardwalk again and I was free
to explore it from end to end because now I didn't
care if I did run into Mike.  In fact, I wanted to run
into him.    No luck though.  So many God Damn people
walking the boards and I didn't know even one of them.
 I was beginning to have real lonely periods..... not
really depression I don't think, but I was sad and
very lonely.  I realized how much my friends had meant
to me back home.  My old home.  They were my
substitute family.  Now I couldn't help but notice
they already were paying less attention to me on IChat
then when I first moved here........and it had only
been a short while.  They talked about the 'chick'
that moved into my mothers place after my mother and
me  moved out.  She was hot!  The chick, not my
mother.  My old friends were moving on and leaving me
behind.  There wasn't anything I could do about it
except feel sad and lonely and I already did feel that
way.  Life really, really sucks!!

I hadn't seen Mike or his 'gang' for five days as I
was near one end of the boardwalk just checking it
out.  This section was old and run down.  A couple of
real bad ass looking dudes about 25 years old were
painting the front of a hot dog stand.  Both guys had
tattoos and piercings and mean looking faces.  They
may have been Hispanic.  The heavy set one looked over
at me and said "What the fuck yuse looking at you
skinny mother fucker?"  I stared at him a second and
thought to myself  'I hate this God Damn town'....
what I said was "Not much..." and he said "Come on
over here I wanna show ya sumthing".  I started to
turn away and saw Mike walking toward me from half a
block away.

He was wearing cool blue sunglasses and  eating a cone
of soft ice cream.  "Richard... come toward me.  Don't
go near those assholes."  I just stared at him.  He
had just gotten a fresh buzz cut and his sunburn had
turned to tan. He had a natural swagger as he slowly
walked towards me.  When I looked at him I thought,
for the first time, that he looked very cool, wicked
sharp.

He wasn't looking at me, but rather at the two tough
guys who were still holding paint brushes.  In a much
sterner voice he said, "Do what the fuck I told you to
do Richie!"   Richie?  He called me 'Richie'. I stared
at him a second longer and then drifted towards him
slowly.    "Hey, Sullivan",   the younger looking
Hispanic guy yelled, "your old man and your chicken
shit  brother still in jail?".  Mike yelled back at
him  in a neutral sounding voice, saying  "My bro plea
bargained out of that shit.   Which reminds me,
Jose...my bro was wondering if  your Mother is  still
giving out the $2 blow jobs down Atlantic City under
the boardwalk?".  Both the Hispanic guys dropped their
paint brushes and started running towards us  at an
alarmingly fast pace.  Mike said to me, "Run your
fucking  ass off Richie...follow me!"  I didn't
hesitate because I just knew he wasn't kidding around.
 The two painters were thundering up the boardwalk
closing in fast..... they were motivated and  pissed
off in a major way.

After five steps Mike had doubled the distance between
him and me.  He was definitely running with a purpose.
 He went down a ramp ten yards up on the right.  I
ran, pumping my arms as hard as I could, but the
painters had made up half the distance between us
already.  I couldn't believe guys that big could run
so fucking fast!  At the ramp I almost fell  over
making the turn.  Mike was just stomping down on the
lever to start his motor bike.  It started right up
and he was looking back for me.  "Faster you dumb
fuck!  They'll put you in the hospital!  Jesus
Christ..RUN!"  I ran faster then I thought I could run
and got to the bike slowing up just enough at the end
so that I could hop on the narrow seat extending from
under Mike.   He yelled  "Hold on around my waist,
tight!"  I held on to his waist, but I just used my
hands as he began a wicked fast pull out.

The centrifugal force had me immediately  ...... I was
going off the back of the bike because my hand grip on
his sides wasn't strong enough to hold me on.  I was
sure I was a goner when  Mike whipped his left arm
behind him and  around my back and pulled me up
against him,  hard.  I could feel the strength in that
arm and see the bulging muscle.  He saved me from
falling off backwards,  but the motion shifted our
weight on the bike to the left and the bike was going
down to crash on it's left side.  Mike grunted loudly
as he jerked his weight to the right, pulling me
upright with his effort,  and at the last possible
second balanced the bike and off  we roared.    The
painters had gotten within ten feet when Mike got us
up straight and roaring off.  One of the Hispanic guys
hacked up a luggie and hocked it at us and I felt some
of  the spit spray on the side of my face as it
whizzed by.  They screamed curses and threats at us,
but we were gone.

Within two minutes we were on a straight road that
looked like it went forever.  In Jersey you can get on
a stretch of flat land that goes for miles and miles.
Mike was traveling at a high speed now and on that
motorbike it seemed we were almost ready to take off
in flight.      I was hugging Mike around his stomach
tightly now and my chin was on the back of his
shoulder.  He had to be feeling my heart pounding
against his back.  That was as frightened as I've ever
been.  I came close to a number of disasters in a
short period of time and Mike had saved me from each
one.  Mike... "Sullivan", apparently.  Sullivan...he
must be Irish.  And he had called me 'Richie' instead
of Richard.

It was cool flying down this back road without another
living soul in sight.  We had been passing corn fields
for miles...the rows were a blur as we roared by.  I
didn't know why Mike was riding us way out in farm
country, but I realized I was really having fun.  And
another thought drifted into my mind too...it was that
it felt wonderful to hug Mike just like I was doing it
now.  I tried to remember the last person I hugged
this tight and nothing came to mind.  I took my chin
off Mike's shoulder and rested the side of my face
against the back of his neck and just below on his
back a little bit.  He smelled good.  Just because I
felt like doing it, I readjusted my arms around him a
little lower on his stomach and  hugged real tight.
My boner came right up and pressed  high up on his
bum.  I had to shut my eyes tight because a feeling
swept over me that was intense and new.........and
awesome.   All around my crotch and stomach and upper
thighs felt like that sensational tingling I get
before I climax, before I cum.    I'd never gotten
this feeling any other time except when I jerked off.
Now I had it from just hugging Mike as we rode along
on his bike.   I didn't cum,  just enjoyed the pre cum
feeling as we flew along that back road.

He took us out for the better part of a half hour and
then made a lazy big U-turn and headed back the same
road we went out on.  Going back he went just as fast
as the trip out.  He never said a word.  By the time I
started recognizing landmarks we'd been riding for
almost an hour. I couldn't remember enjoying any other
hour any more than I enjoyed this one.  He took me
right to the spot, across the street from my house,
where I first met him.  I let go of him and swung my
right leg over to get off and fell right on my ass.
After an hour on the back seat of the motorbike, in
that one position, my legs didn't act the way they
should.  I laughed and looked up at Mike who had a
scowl on his face.

"My legs are numb, all pins and needles", I said with
a smile,  as I stumbled to my feet.   Mike waited a
few seconds before spitting out, "Don't ever go near
that section of the boardwalk again Richard.  Those
guys hate us whites with a fucking passion."  With
that he started to pull away.  "Wait Mike, please wait
a second.  I want to thank you, man.  You really saved
my ass.  And thanks for the ride.  I really loved it.
It's the only fun I've had since I moved here".  Mike
looked at me for a second and said  "You live here
Richard?  I thought you only stayed for the summer.
That's what you did in past years".

I was confused.  Mike knew I was here in past summers?
 I don't ever remember seeing him.  "Yeah, my Mom kind
of threw me out so I'm here full time now with my old
man."  "You going to the High School this Fall?" Mike
asked.  I told him I was and asked him if he wanted a
Coke or something to drink.  He said, "Yeah, I'm
fucking thirsty.  Walk the bike over and don't drop it
or I'll drop you."  With that he started across the
street toward my house.  It was a bitch trying to walk
 his bike off one curb and across the street and up
the other curb.  It was much heavier and harder to
push than it looked like when he did it.  When I'd
made it across the street I put down the kick stand
and delicately balance it and it stayed up.  Mike
never even looked back,

I brought two cokes and some potato chips out to the
tiny front porch and Mike drank his coke in two long
pulls.  He must just let it roll down his throat.  I
have to do a deliberate swallow for every mouth full.
Mike ignored the potato chips and lit up a cigarette.
He  sat on the railing looking at me.  After a minute
I said "What?"  He shook his head like he was saying
'never mind', but I said "No really, what?"  Mike said
"If you want to be in my gang you got to have a buzz
cut."  He held the cigarette in his lips and talking
around it said "Come over here."  I walked the three
steps to stand in front of him.

He said "Just stand still", and with one hand behind
my head he used the other hand to lift the hair off my
forehead and push it back away from my face, flat on
the top of my head.  "There, you look good that way.
Not so faggy."  His cigarette smoke was burning my
eyes so I squinted them almost closed and looked at
Mike through slits in my eye lids.  For the first time
in my life the thought that another boy was 'cute'
entered my mind.  I thought,  'Mike is wicked cute'.
He held onto my head for another 10 seconds or so and
then let his hands drag across my face as he let go.
I smelled the nicotine on his fingers just like that
time on the boardwalk.

I stayed in front of Mike and just looked at him
through my slitted eye lids until he said, "Well, you
going to be a member of my gang or not?"
I said "Yeah, sure...thanks Mike."  He said "Get the
buzz cut", and turned around and walked off the porch.
 He didn't look back.  Started his bike and did a
wheelie off the sidewalk leaving some tire marks. I
had another boner.  Now I definitely had someone to
think about when I jerked off.  No sense ignoring the
fact that he made my dick hard.  I thought about Mike
every time I jerked off and the cum was flying out of
my cock twice as much as ever before.  I use to jerk
off once or twice a day and I doubled that and was
always thinking about doing it or  actually was doing
it.  It put a lot of HOT in my life.

I thought about this gay attraction I had for Mike and
went back to spending  a lot of time on the Internet
trying to find similar situations to mine.  I was
convinced that I was just gay for Mike.... that other
than Mike I was just a normal heterosexual, regular
guy like I always thought I was.  Needless to say I
couldn't find any collaboration of this theory.  The
Bi Sexual category didn't fit.  Nothing fit.  I was
very confused about it.  Mike was always doing stuff
to my body, but he was the one always calling me a
faggot ........as if he wasn't one and didn't like
them at all.  More confusion!  I didn't get the buzz
cut and I didn't see Mike for a couple of days.

Then on a Tuesday I looked out my window after I'd
finished my chores.   I thought I'd heard a motor bike
sound.   Sure enough, there was Mike across from my
house again.  He had come to see me.  What other
reason could he have for being here.  I had a big
smile on my face as I ran out the door to say 'hi'.
When I yelled it across the street he said nothing,
but he shook his head back and forth like he was
disappointed about something, but not surprised about
it.  I said "What?" and Mike yelled for me to get over
there.  I trotted over and said 'hi' again and that I
was wicked happy he stopped around.  He stared at me,
but didn't say anything.  He opened his eyes wide and
sort of shook his head a little...it was like he was
prompting me to say something.  I said, "Sorry Mike,
but my old man don't want me to get a buzz cut.  He
says that kind of haircut is for white supremacist
groups which he is opposed to in a big way."

Mike sat on his bike and thought about that as I just
stood there not knowing what to do or say.  Finally he
said, "don't matter anyway because the guys say you
are definitely queer."  I opened my mouth but nothing
came out.  Finally I said, "What?"  And then after a
few seconds, "Why would they say that?  They don't
even know me."  Mike made a face like he was thinking
about that and said, "OK...I can give you the test and
it will prove it one way or another.  Bring the bike
across to your house."  Test?  I struggled just as
much with that damn bike this time as I did last time.
   Motor bikes are fooking heavy and awkward to
maneuver.  I asked what the 'test' was and Mike said
we should get another Coke first.  I brought two cokes
out and as I drank mine I sat up on the porch railing
at the corner of the porch.

Mike finished his Coke just as fast as he did the
other day and walked over to stand in between my legs.
 "Just sit up straight right there" he said as he took
my Coke from me and finished it in one long swallow.
He used both hands to move my legs far apart, each leg
up against the railing... and I started to fall
backward off the porch.  My arm flailed out and
grabbed the only thing I could...Mike.  I got him
around the neck and held on.  He moved his hands up
the inside of my thighs and stopped at the bottom of
my Bermuda shorts.    I thought, "Oh no, not again."
and I said, "Please don't grab my cock again Mike.
That's no test because anyone would get a boner if his
cock was massaged."

Mike just squeezed and rubbed the inside of my thighs.
 I readjusted to a tighter grip around his neck  and
now our noses brushed against one another when either
of us moved.  His breath was in my face and it smelled
like cigarettes and Juicy Fruit gum.  Mike was taking
little short breaths, but not saying anything.  His
face was a little bit red and his eyes were shiny.

"Let me get down Mike, please.  I'm going to break my
head open on the brick walk if I fall backward off
this railing."   I was wearing an old pair of Bermudas
that I had on to do the chores.  The legs were short
and baggy.  Mike slid a hand up each leg opening and
rubbed my cock and balls through the outside of my
boxer shorts.  "Oh God, Mike...Don't do this..Please"
I gasped as my boner came right up.  Mike's forehead
touched my forehead and I moved my face against his
and it felt so good  I couldn't suppress a moan.  I
rubbed against the perspiration on his face.  It felt
sexy.  He slowly stroked my boner as he lightly
squeezed my balls with his other hand.  "Ohh fuck!
Mike Please!  AHH  AHH  OHH  AHHH.."  He stroked my
boner  lazily as if he was thinking about something
else.  He got a nice easy rhythm stroking up and down
on it.  He'd done this once before and I was scared,
but this time I couldn't help but think how fantastic
it felt.    Shortly I started a little humping against
his hands as I felt my balls tighten up.

 He had me so hot I didn't even try to hold off.  He
was relentlessly stroking my boner as our faces bumped
together and I hugged him around his neck.  It was the
most intimate thing I've ever been involved  in.   He
stroked my cock and stroked my cock and massaged my
balls ...sometimes lightly and then a hard squeeze.
It felt so good...... Indescribably good.  I let out a
long moan this time and relaxed as the cum streamed
from my pee hole and splashed inside my boxers and
then again and again with another moan and finally a
few lesser spurts and I felt like I was going to black
out.  I felt completely spent...faint...dizzy.  It had
only taken a little over two minutes for me to shoot
my load in my pants.  I wish it could have lasted
longer.

I just started slipping off the railing.  Mike pulled
his hands out of my shorts and put them around my back
and hauled me onto the porch floor and against him.
It felt like a big hug to me... and then he let go.
"You  flunked the fucking test badly, Richard." I
quietly said it wasn't a fair test and that he would
cum in his pants too if I did the same thing to him.
He just said, "No fucking way!  You're the fag, not
me." and he headed for his bike.  "That wasn't fair,
Mike!" I yelled,  as I began to recover some of my
strength.    I was headed inside to change my pants
when  Mike yelled back at me, "Yeah, OK...maybe it
wasn't completely fair.  We'll take a ride and talk
some more about it."  I should have told him to go
fuck himself, but I was really hooked on him so I just
said OK.   I thought to myself I'd love to hear how he
was going to justify this as a test of my being a fag.
 After changing I got on the back of his bike without
either of us saying anything.   I may have been
pouting a little bit as I hugged around his waist and
off we went.

Mike didn't speed and in 15 minutes he pulled into the
town's Middle School playground.   He parked the bike
and walked over to sit on a swing.  I sat on the one
next to him and waited.  We both pushed off a little
with our feet so that we were swinging a little.  It
was a hot day in June and we were the only two people
there.  I looked at him and thought how sharp he
looked, even the buzz cut looked good on him.  I
looked at his hands as he held onto the two chains of
his swing seat and thought.....he just wanked me off
with those two hands.  A little of my spunk must still
be on his hands.

Mike said "OK,  I thought about it and you are right.
That don't prove you are or aren't queer.  It's just
what we guys always thought would prove something,
but now...after doing it I think it's stupid.    I
want to make a pact with you.  That's what I wanted to
talk about.  The pact is this....I never mention you
cam in your pants again and you never mention anything
about the test to anybody at all, ever.   Including to
me.  Let's just forget about it forever.  You can hang
out with me sometimes, but you can't be a member of
the gang because of the buzz cut.  Fair enough?"   I
said, "Sure, Mike.  Do you think you and me can be
friends?"  He said he didn't know about friends, but I
could hang out with him and we'll just see.  We didn't
talk about anything else.  It all felt really strange
and awkward because it fucking was strange and
awkward.  He gave me a ride back and I said
thanks...like he'd done me some favor.  Somehow he
made me feel like I did something wrong and he was
forgiving me.  It was just those kind of vibes he gave
off....I guess.     On the ride back I decided to do
what he said and forget about it.  At least I get to
hang out with him from now on.

I got into the routine of doing that 40 minute walk to
the boardwalk each day after my chores.  I'd  go to
the spot where I first ran into Mike and his 'gang'.
This was their official meeting spot.  The two
original boys, Tony (Red head) and the chubby one
(Mac) were always there and then there were another 5
or 6 guys who showed up a couple of times a week, but
not on a regular schedule.  They all did have buzz
cuts, but so did a lot of kids who weren't in Mike's
'gang'.  It was mostly talking among ourselves,
smoking cigarettes, buying food and drinks and a lot
of harassing of passers by.  Especially girl passers
by or old people or fat people.....everything made all
of us laugh hysterically.  Mike was in charge and
decided when we'd roam up and down the boards or when
we'd do anything really.

Red head Tony and Chubby, who was called 'Mac' turned
out to be sweet guys who just weren't that bright.
They looked like outlaws but were really choir boys in
disguise.  They laughed at everything I said and
seemed to really like me a lot.  Everyone was
subservient to Mike but that was fine with me.  Maybe
everyone had a crush on him.  I know I did.  Being
honest though, I don't think the boys were gay at
all....they seemed genuinely hot for the babes,
although the babes they could attract just barely
qualified as 'babes'.  I liked Tony and Mac although
you probably wouldn't want to spend hours at a time
with the lads.

As for Mike, he was moody and sometimes mean spirited.
 He was hard on me and was quick to make me the butt
of a joke.  For no reason he'd try to humiliate me or
embarrass me.  Most of the time he ignored me.  In
addition to Tony and Mac, I got along with the other
guys because I never disagreed or argued with anyone.
I smiled a lot and went along with the jokes. So all
that was not too thrilling I'll admit, but there was a
very good part to my new activities.   Three or four
times a week  Mike would say, "I'm taking the fuck
off.  I got stuff I got to do."  Then to me he'd ask
"Need a ride dickhead?  I'm going that way."  I always
said yes and would get right on behind him and off
we'd go.  He'd drive to all kinds of places.... from a
little known small beach to that school playground to
places on the bay and anyplace that was secluded.
Mike like to have conversations.

Mike said I was the only one with any brains, besides
him, and he wanted to know what I thought of many
things.  Religion, politics, movies, music, life after
death, UFOs and tons of philosophical topics.  We'd
talk for a couple hours at a time.  He wouldn't talk
about himself or his family life.  I knew he had a job
working for a tomato farmer from early morning to
early afternoon, but not every day.  Just when he was
needed.  His mother worked at that farm full time.
That is the extent of what I knew about him.  We'd go
for soft drinks and soft ice cream.  He never was mean
or rude to me when it was just the two of us, but he
decided everything we did.  It was more than fine with
me.  He quickly became the person I liked the most in
the world..... even though that wasn't really saying
much if I thought about it.  I refused to say to
myself that I loved him, but he was very much on my
mind at all times.

I wanted, in the worse way, for him to give me another
'test',  but I couldn't possibly bring up the topic.
My favorite times of all were the times he showed me
wrestling holds.  He was a junior varsity wrestler in
High School and he was pretty good it seemed.  I was
always asking to learn more holds and the body contact
was fabulous.  I am not an idiot...I knew he liked the
contact as much as I did and we held some of the
'holds' for quite a while.  We'd both have wicked hard
ons and be breathing fast with our hearts pounding.
Mike was in charge though and I waited to follow his
lead.  I loved being with him and couldn't believe I'd
ever hated living here in Wildwood.   It was my
favorite place in the world now.  But I was still
always longing for Mike to do another one of his
special 'test' on me.  He never did and neither of us
ever brought up the first 'test' because Mike and me
had made a pact not to.

On any given day we might have a fabulous conversation
and then an intimate wrestling match which would leave
us red faced and panting.  And then, the next day with
the 'gang',  he'd be back to treating me like shit.
I'd known him for about six weeks and already 3 times
he'd sent me home.  Hard to believe, but he'd get
pissed at me and say "Get away from here you asshole.
You don't have to go home...you just can't stay
here!".  I hated that.  I went home because I had no
where else to go.  After the third time I tried to
analyzed what I'd done to get him to dismiss me like
that.   I thought back to what was being talked about
and what I'd said and so forth...   as it turned out,
each time I'd done or said something that might have
appeared to Mike like I was agreeing with or siding
with someone other than him.  Like I took sides
against him... I guess.  Little things like who was a
better ball player or what car was the hottest.  I'd
agreed with someone else's opinion.  That's when he'd
get wicked pissed at me and away I'd go.  The next day
all was forgiven, but it was humiliating to me at the
time to say the least.

I wacked off pretending  it was Mike wacking me off
and blew big loads of cum.  It felt wonderful and I
shot off at least three times a day. At least three
times..... and always with a picture of the sunburned
baby-faced, buzz cut Mike in my mind.  Boy oh boy did
I have a thing for Mike.  Then at about the six week
point we were on the boardwalk and Tony tells me
Mike's house had a fire and thankfully no body got
hurt.   The thing was that Mike,  his mother and
brother couldn't live  there for a month or so while
it was being repaired.  They were living with his
mother's sister.

Later that day Mike comes roaring up and he is pissed.
 He's bitching and moaning about sharing a pull out
sofa bed with a fat cousin....he bitched about one
bathroom for 8 people...about there not being enough
seats for everyone to watch TV or eat meals  etc etc.
A fooking nightmare of living conditions and for at
least a month.  All the guys are saying how bad they
feel about that ...tough shit and that sucks etc..I'm
saying the same kind of things too.  Then I start
thinking and wondering if my old man might go along
with an idea I was getting.  It was my father's off
day so I wandered over to the pay phone and called
him.  We talked for thirty seconds...he didn't care.
It was my responsibility if something got fucked up.
I thanked him profusely and really meant it.

Back over to the guys and I was excited and as soon as
there was a break in the conversation I blurted out,
"Mike, you can bunk down with me if you want. It's
only my old man and me and I never see him much at
all.  He is always out.  I just called him and he said
it was OK.  You can sleep in my bed and I'll use my
sleeping bag."  Mike looked at me and I could see the
initial interest in his eyes,  but I also realized he
quickly got wicked pissed off too.  I shouldn't have
brought this up in front of everyone.  "You can sleep
in my bed"  Oh Fuck!! What was I thinking??

He looked at me with a hard look on his face, but said
nothing.  My hopes had been  soaring there for a
second!  The possibilities of wrestling in bed with
Mike had my dick getting a stiffy.  Now,  I was a
little worried and  I was getting impatient and so I
said   "Well, Mike what do you think?  Naturally you
could come and go as you....."   Mike thrust up his
hand and said, "Keep your mouth shut!  I'm trying to
think!"  I didn't like hearing that, but even so I
looked away to avoid eye contact and didn't say
anything else.  He expected that of me when other guys
are around and I didn't want him to send me home.  Not
today of all days.  Not until he makes up his mind
about what I'd said......

Part 2   ??

Donny Mumford     thinat20@yahoo.com