Date: Tue, 11 Oct 2011 19:12:47 -0700
From: h.schreiber@hushmail.com
Subject: Rock and a Hard Place by Hans Schreiber Chapter 19

Warning! This is a work of fiction written by a legal age adult. Any
similarity between the fictional characters and any live persons is purely
coincidental. This story contains fictional descriptions of sexual activity
between consenting minor youth. If you are under the age of 18, and/or if
you are offended by this content, and/or if it is illegal in your
jurisdiction to possess or read such material, please leave now and do not
read this story as neither the internet host nor the author can be
responsible for your actions. Please, always practice safe sex; no
momentary thrill is worth your life.

This work is copyrighted (c) by Hans Schreiber. You may not reproduce this
story in whole or in part without the express written consent of Hans
Schreiber at h.schreiber@hushmail.com.

Special thanks to my editors, Flip, Smallfox, Lisa and Pablo for their
valuable assistance in making this story so much better.

Rock and a Hard Place

Chapter 19

New Elements

	I smiled at the shocked look on Mrs. Jones' face when I walked into
the debate class. It only spread wider when I explained that the suspension
had been lifted. I told her I didn't have a suit to change into for the
debate meet later on and asked if I could run home and get one on. She
naturally let me and I took off. I ran home and when I reached the front
porch, I paused and leaned on my knees panting. I fished my key out of my
pocket and pushed open the door. I hustled up the stairs, kicked off my
Nike's, pulled off my shorts and t-shirt and rushed to my bathroom. I took
a quick piss and then soaked a washcloth in the hot water. I tugged down my
boxers and soaped up the washcloth and wiped the sweat off my hard body. I
washed under my arms and then last of all my balls and ass crack. I tossed
the washcloth in the basin and spun around to head back to my room and
freaked out! I yelped in shocked surprise!

	When my heart returned to my chest, I clamped both hands over my
crotch and asked, "Mom, what the hell are you doing spying on me?"

	"The better question is where have you been? Did you think a
suspension from school meant you could go have a play day? And why are you
naked taking a sponge bath?"

	"I'm not having a play day. My suspension was lifted. I have to get
my suit on so I can get back for the debate meet this afternoon. So
... could I maybe get some privacy here?"

	"Watch your tone of voice. I'm still your mother."

	 "Barely," I thought as I pushed past her and jogged to my room,
shutting the door harder than necessary. My mood had gone from happy and
excited to annoyed and grumpy in less than six seconds. I pulled on clean
boxers and put on my grey suit pants, white shirt, and red paisley tie. I
grabbed my blue blazer and headed out my door into the hall. My mother was
standing in the hallway with her arms folded.

	"What?" I asked.

	"I don't think it's right that your suspension was lifted."

	"Are you kidding me? Why not?"

	"You were fighting and there is a zero tolerance policy for
fighting. Mrs. Matthews told me so."

	I just shook my head in disbelief. "Look, Dad went and talked to
Mrs. Matthews and that didn't really help much, but then William talked to
her and she realized that by punishing me and keeping me from debating, she
was really punishing William, who is the real victim in all this. So she
lifted it. She realized I was doing a good thing by trying to prevent the
pictures from being spread around and she pardoned me. Why would you think
that's a bad thing?"

	"Because, you provoked a fight by stealing that other boy's
phone. You should be punished for that. You clearly need some discipline
and supervision in your life and you aren't getting it from your father."

	"Hey!" I yelled. "I didn't steal it! I confiscated it to show
Principal Matthews the immoral and illegal crap on it that he was sending
around to try and hurt William."

	"Oh, William, William, William! I'm so sick of hearing about your
little faggot friend, William! It's not healthy for you to be hanging
around with a little freak like that. He's rubbing off on you."

	"Oh my God! You are such a piece of work. You don't know
anything. William is not a faggot, and that's a horrible, disgusting
word. You should be ashamed of yourself. Get out of my way. I have to get
back to school." I grabbed her arm to move her out of my way.

	"Kyle, sweetie," she started in her pouty voice, "let go of mommy's
arm, you're hurting me. I'm sorry I insulted your little friend. Go get in
my car and I'll take you back to school." My lower lip was quivering and I
could sense the heat in my face. My ears were about to spontaneously
combust they were so hot. I let go without speaking and followed her down
the stairs, gagging on the bile of venomous words I'd regurgitated into the
back of my throat. I swallowed them though and grudgingly accepted the
ride. Otherwise, I feared being late and missing the activity bus and
therefore the debate meet. I wasn't going to let William down.

	I started around the car toward the passenger side and my mother
let out a minute, involuntary gasp and frantically opened her door then
scrambled inside, collecting something off the passenger seat and stuffing
it in a plastic grocery bag. She tied the two handles and stuck it on the
driver side floor of her Audi before I reached the door and could see what
she had in it.

	"What was that?" I asked as nonchalantly as I could.

	"Don't worry about that. Buckle up, please."

	I always buckle my seatbelt and it annoys the hell out of me that
she always, always tells me to buckle up. Half the time, I'm already
buckled up when she tells me to buckle up. Suddenly, a flood of childhood
memories swept over me. All the "Don't Do's" that my mother imposed on me
filled my head, bouncing around like a plutonium atom in a nuclear reactor
with nothing to cool it down. "Don't touch that. Don't run. Put that stick
down. Get off that log, you'll twist your ankle. Don't drink from that
fountain, you don't know who used it last. Don't touch yourself
there. Don't, Don't, DON'T!" My dad reluctantly enforced her stupidity
leaving me without an ally. It had been that way until I finally stood up
for myself and started pushing back as a young teen. I was so proud of my
dad when he stood up at the dinner table one night and said he supported me
in wrestling. More and more, Dad started standing with me and that's when
she started to evaporate into her meaningless charities.

	I looked over at her as she pulled the car onto the street and
slipped the shift lever into drive. My mother was trying to insert her
control back into my life by leaving Dad and me in some sort of twisted
mind game. I didn't want her back. I didn't want her controlling my life
again. I didn't want to be the meek little cipher she wanted. "You don't
have to take me to school. I can walk." I said at the stop sign.

	She jerked her head toward me and I couldn't really distinguish if
it was hurt or anger in her cold grey eyes. "Nonsense. I'm taking you so I
can speak with Mrs. Matthews, woman to woman. You need to serve your
suspension and learn a lesson. You need a parent to start taking some
interest in your welfare and shaping your character properly." She was
shaking her finger at my face and I wanted so bad to grab it and snap it
off. Of course, I resisted the urge.

	"What? No way! Mom, you can't do that. Please, I'm begging you,
just leave this alone. God, why do you have to ruin everything?"

	She didn't answer; she just sped off from the stop sign in excess
of the speed limit, which was something she never did. She was clearly
determined and even angry. I didn't know what to do. I wished William was
in the back seat spewing his wisdom or Bible verses or something. I
realized just by looking at her, there was no talking her out of it. All I
could do was hope and pray Mrs. Matthews would hold her ground. The thought
crossed my mind to just open the door and leap out, but I'd ruin my nice
suit not to mention, probably die. Dying actually seemed acceptable at the
moment but the idea of ruining my favorite slacks and blazer bothered me.

	When we got to the school, I jumped out and sprinted off. My mother
called after me, instructing me to meet her at the principal's office.  "I
can't stop you from ruining my life, but I don't have to watch you do it."
I called back at her. "I'm not a masochist." I sprinted straight through
the open air quad area and into the Humanities building. I chuckled at the
irony of going to the Humanities building while my mom was headed to do her
inhumane deed. Most of the debate team was assembled in Mrs. Jones' room
and William was extremely pleased to see me. He'd begun to fret that I was
going to abandon him again. I decided not to scare him with the risk of my
mom messing it up for us.

	"Hey Mrs. Jones," I said, "how about we get this show on the road?
I saw the activity bus out front and the whole team is here, so why don't
we go get on the bus already?" Kids were mulling around nervously. The
weaker debaters were cramming on their opening statements for the
affirmative and negative positions of the resolution.

	"Oh, we don't need to leave just yet, we aren't traveling that far
today. We're only going to Mill Creek High," said Mrs. Jones. I pulled her
aside and explained about my mom meeting with Principal Matthews at that
very moment. Her eyes widened as the implication of it dawned on her and
she clapped her hands, "Let's go everyone. On the bus. NOW!"

	Everyone was startled by her sudden change of demeanor and they
started grabbing up their laptops, file boxes and notes. Soon, we were
parading down the hall when I saw Gina come through the entryway with a
yellow office slip in her hand. "Oh no," I thought.

      I'd almost gotten past the guards, through the barbed wire and
escaped on the big yellow bus. In a moment of desperation, I glanced about
for a place to hide. Fortune smiled on me and I slipped into an open supply
room and pulled the door shut. Mrs. Hansen, my English teacher from last
year, was on her tippy-toes reaching for a ream of rainbow colored paper.

	Surprised, Mrs. Hansen settled back on her heels and looked at me
bewildered. "Kyle? Why are you in here, and why did you close the door?"

	"Umm," I frantically formulated a plausible lie. "I saw you
reaching for the paper, so I came in to help since you are my favorite
teacher ever. And I guess I just closed the door out of habit from my mom
always telling me it's unsafe to have an open door in the hallway, you
know?"

	"Well, that's very nice of you to flatter me, but," she smiled
knowingly, "first of all, you're shorter than I am and have no chance of
reaching the paper. Secondly, you're dressed to the hilt and out in the
halls during class time, and thirdly, you're a teenage boy and no amount of
nagging would train you to shut a door for the sake of safety." I smiled
back at her, acknowledging her wisdom, while she continued, "So, who are
you hiding from?"

	"Okay, you got me. Truth is, I'm avoiding a girl."

	"Ahhhh. Now that's believable. Something to do with the Fall Formal
coming up?"

	"Yes. Actually, that's exactly right." She'd given me a new escape
route and I jumped on it. "Yes. She's supposed to be my date for the Fall
Formal and I don't want her to see me in my new clothes I bought for it. I
want them to be a surprise. I'm dressed up for the debate meet today."

	"I see. And why would this young lady be out wandering the halls at
this hour of the day?"

      "Oh, all right. Straight up, she works in the office and I think they
want me to go there, but if I do, I'll miss the bus to the debate meet and
then my partner will be alone and it will just be a big mess."

      "Aha, the plot thickens. Well, it so happens that I'm in charge of
decorations for the Fall Formal dance. I'll make you a deal.  If you'll
serve on my decorating committee, I won't turn you in to the
administration."

      "Mrs. Hansen, that's blackmail. Besides I'm no good at that kind of
thing. I'm a wrestler and a debater. I'm not the creative type."

      "That's exactly the reason I want you. The last two years, the only
people I could get on my committee were prissy girls and a couple of sweet,
young, gay boys. Our decorations last year consisted of rainbows and My
Little Pony posters with pastel balloons. If I don't get a guy's input into
it this year, I swear the boys will probably riot. I'm also really sick of
the ribbing I take from the male teachers in the faculty lounge over it."

      "I feel your pain and all, and I did hear about the decorations from
last year even though I didn't go, but..." I stammered. "Oh, I really don't
know. I'm really busy."

      "That's my deal. You join the committee or I let your secret 'out of
the closet' so to speak." I snickered in spite of myself and she giggled as
well. She had no idea just how funny and not so funny that really was.

      "Okay, I'll do it. I'm definitely not ready to come out of the closet
just yet. But you have to agree to let me bring some other people along."

      "The more the merrier, absolutely," she agreed.

      "Okay, well I better get going or I'll miss the bus."

      "Hold on," she cautioned. "We have to be a little careful about
this. I can't be seen coming out of a storage closet with a male student,
especially a handsome young hunk like you. You've put me in a precarious
situation here."

      "Mrs. Hansen! Geez!" I felt myself blushing.

      "Well, it's true, you are very handsome. You leave first and if the
hall is empty, tap on the door and I'll come out. If not, just leave and
I'll wait a bit."

      "Okay. Sorry I put you at risk."

      "It's fine. Thank you for succumbing to my blackmail." We smiled at
each other and I slipped out the door. The hall was empty so I rapped twice
on the door and headed out the front double doors at double time. I went
the long way around the gym to avoid the office, or Inhumanities building
as I decided to call it from now on, and dashed to the bus.

      When I climbed aboard, Mrs. Jones gave me a "where have you been"
look but thought better of asking. I made my way toward the back and saw
William pressed up against the side of the bus staring out the window. I
couldn't help but laugh seeing Brenda with her nice new hairstyle, dressed
smartly in a blue and white, plaid skirt topped by a navy blue, business
woman's jacket and a pleated white blouse underneath. She was staring
straight ahead and both of them looked desperately awkward and
magnificently miserable. I sat behind them and slid to the middle of the
seat. I leaned forward over the back of their seat and said "Hey guys,
guess what?

      The two of them spun toward me and ended up inches from each other's
faces. Immediately, they snapped their heads back forward so fast, I feared
they might need neck braces for the whiplash. They peered back at me
through one eye. I had the hardest time not to laugh.

      "Mrs. Hansen has assigned the three of us from the debate team to
help out with the dance decorations for Fall Formal. Cool huh?"

      Neither one answered me. They just peered suspiciously through that
one eye. At last, Brenda said, "Why did she choose us? I don't even really
know her."

      "Honestly, she blackmailed me into it, and she said I could get
others to help.  I immediately thought of you two. I'll try to get a couple
of wrestlers to join and maybe you can get some other girls."

      "What precisely would this assignment entail?" asked William sounding
very nervous about it.

      " It's no big deal really. We'll all meet and come up with some ideas
and then go buy stuff and set it up on the day of the dance. It could be
kind of fun."

      William shrugged and said, "Okay. If Brenda consents, I consent."

      Brenda allowed a tiny grin and nodded yes. I sat back in my bench
seat, pleased. "Great!"

      I closed my eyes and thought about Scotty. I wondered if I could
convince him to join the decoration committee. I hoped so. I thought about
his smile and his shining eyes. It brought a smile to my face and I found
myself wishing he was on the debate team and could be with us sitting next
to me. He'd have to have a different partner though, because I could never
abandon William. Maybe he and Brenda could be partners. I thought about how
kind he'd been when Sam died. I relived my first real sexual experience we
shared in his bed and the tender, joyful nature of it. That started giving
me an erection, pressing slightly against the loose fabric of my grey
slacks. I peeked down to see how noticeable it was and could easily tell
Little Rock was doing calisthenics just beneath my front left pocket. To
keep from embarrassing myself, I forced my thoughts onto my opening
arguments for the coming meet.

      It was impossible to keep my mind from returning to Scotty, though. I
pulled my phone out and sent him a text. I shared the experience in the
closet and he replied, "LOL <3" I asked him if he would help out on the
committee and he shot right back, "Sure. Be fun." I asked if he wanted to
join William and me at the church youth group that evening. "Maybe," came
his reply. I supposed he was putting me off, so I didn't expect to see
him. I wondered how William would feel about it anyway. I sort of didn't
want to have Scotty interfere with our time together and make William feel
like a third wheel.

      William and I decided to concentrate on the No Child Left Behind act
and on the impact it's had improving standards and testing in all states,
but most importantly in the poorer states. It's interesting that President
Reagan had intended to eliminate the Department of Education. When we are
taking the negative position on the resolution, we use a lot of quotes from
President Reagan. Also, during Mondale's campaign, he argued against the
Department of Education, claiming that it was unconstitutional for the
Federal Government to be involved in it. It really isn't mentioned in the
Constitution and as such is reserved to the individual states. George
W. Bush, however, actually increased spending on education from $34 billion
to $56 billion when he pushed the No Child Left Behind Act. Of course,
there's very little President Bush didn't increase spending on. The hell of
it is, my generation is the one stuck with the bill.

      When we arrived, we made our way through the hallways of Mill Creek
High School. We got the customary stares like we usually did being so
dressed up and from a different school. Not to mention, we were all
dragging laptops, card file boxes and reference books with us - not your
ordinary entourage. It could also be that it's just George they're staring
at. Good ole' George is a fashion disaster with his blue and white striped
dress shirt, brown and maroon checkered sweater vest with a green tie and
black dress pants that are too short and show off his white athletic
socks. He's like walking modern art.

      William and I were ranked as the top team and so we started with the
lower ranked teams from Mill Creek. We trounced them with our tongues tied
behind our backs. The second round was equally as ridiculous. We argued in
favor of Federal funding of education on that one and completely inundated
them with William's research.

      There was a crowd in the small auditorium for our final debate for
first place. The Mill Creek team was comprised of two girls matched up
together. One was cute and one was ... well, not so cute. Picture Rosanne
Barr and Mick Jagger procreating and that would be the result. She was very
sharp and kicked the crap out of my arguments on the constitutionality
against Federal interference in schools, however. Fortunately, William had
my back and pulled a litany of Federal judicial comments, exactly on point
I might add, to refute her arguments. I did my "look pretty and act
condescending" bit at the end and summarized our (mostly William's)
arguments in a brilliant manner, if I have to say so myself. We
won. Mrs. Jones was elated.

      We collected our blue ribbons and certificates and headed back for
the bus sharing our highlights with each other, such as "And then THEY said
..." "Oh, I know, we had someone say the same thing. That must be coached."
"And then I argued ..." "Could you believe how unprepared ..." And so the
chatter went. I'm sure the same thing goes on during every bus ride back
from every school competition.  I'd experienced it with wrestling for sure,
only it's just a lot more mundane with debate. On the debate team bus, you
talk about how you crushed their argument or discredited their evidence
instead of how you crushed their balls and dislocated their shoulders.

      "Hey Rock, how many dips are you gonna do?" George Armani asked. I'd
started calling him that and it stuck. He didn't seem to mind and even
seemed to like the attention the nickname got him.

      "I'll do one for every blue stripe in your shirt," I answered. That
caused a few sniggers from those close. George immediately stripped off his
sweater vest and started earnestly counting. It was a tradition that every
time my team won first place, I celebrated by doing dips in the
aisle. George enlisted Cathy to count the stripes on his back. They came up
with forty-seven. That was a lot. I decided that I better make them shallow
ones.  I shed my blazer and unbuttoned my shirt then tugged it free of my
waist and removed it. I placed a hand on the edge of the bench seat on
either side of the aisle and bent my knees and dipped down. "Count 'em off
William."

      "One." "Two." "Skip a few... forty-two." He squealed with delight as
the whole team cried out in objection. That was also a tradition for
William to cheat for me. Of course, he would start over and count correctly
after that. I kicked my shoes off to reduce the weight on my legs bent at
the knees.

      Normally, I just do enough to show off a bit. It had all started with
a dare from someone after the first away meet of the year. I wasn't
thinking very clearly when I committed to matching George's stripes. By the
time I hit thirty, I was feeling the burn and building a sweat. My firm
round pectorals were bulging and my nipples were protruding. The ripples in
my abs were tightly defined as I clenched my muscles while I pushed myself
back upward between the bus seats. Naturally, everyone was turned in their
seats and watching me, most of the girls longingly and a few of the boys
displaying obvious jealousy. It had taken a lot of consistent, hard work to
build my body and I kind of enjoyed showing it off.

      At the real forty-two mark, I was completely spent. I was determined,
however, to finish. I do not quit. I squeezed my eyes shut, tensed up every
muscle in my body and drew on that inner place of mine to slowly elevate
myself back up to a locked elbows position. "Forty-three," William called
out. He was joined with a few other voices. I held the locked elbow
position for a few counts to rest and then dipped once more. I felt the
shaking begin in my biceps that spread into my shoulders. I clenched my
teeth and emitted a guttural grunt as I forced myself upward into locked
elbows once more. I felt the beads of sweat, trickling down my exposed
flesh and also beneath my grey slacks in my crotch and ass crack. This time
the entire bus counted out with William, "Forty-four!"

      I forced all the air from my lungs and then breathed in deeply as I
lowered myself once more between the seats. My muscles screamed at me to
stop. Stars were swimming over my closed eyelids and I felt a little
dizzy. Again, I clenched my teeth and groaned as I heaved the heavy load of
my body upward slowly, painfully, until feeling the relief of the locked
elbows. "Forty-five."

      I held there panting for several seconds. I feared that if I dropped
again, I would go all the way to the floor. The relief of the locked elbows
was countered by the screaming pain in my lower back and legs from holding
them in a bent position off the floor. Down I went, regretting the stopping
point. I knew I couldn't delay initiating the upward motion or I would
never be able to. So at the bottom of my dip, I immediately started my
returning motion. Oddly, my mind focused on my constricting sphincter and I
imagined the rubber penis up there. In some bizarre rush of sexually
charged adrenaline, I sprung back into the top position. "FORTY-SIX!"

      I held there shaking all over. It was an immense struggle to keep my
feet off the floor. I didn't think I could go on. I tried to recall the
rubber dick to mind for motivation, but my brain just laughed at me. "Fool
me once," it said. In addition to the beads of sweat, small tears eked out
from the corner of my eyes. Desperation was overtaking me, I knew I
couldn't hold my feet up any longer, but I also knew if I dropped into the
dip, I could not stop the motion until I hit the floor. "One more, dammit!"
I said in my head. "No more," came the reply. Then I heard the chants.

      "Rock, Rock, Rock, Rock," my teammates were slowly chanting, growing
louder and louder. I even heard the voice of the lady bus driver chanting
along in a raspy, smoker's voice. "Rock, Rock, Rock."

      "One more, dammit!" I mouthed through my clenched teeth. "I will not
be beat." I broke the elbows and did my best to control the pull of gravity
against my spent muscle mass. I travelled lower than I had been going and
certainly lower than I had intended to until the stretched tendons reached
their limit. My knees were inches from the floor and my toes tapped against
the rubber runner in the aisle. That momentary touch and flirt with failure
was like the ignition fuse. I screamed out loud and called on every ounce
of my strength, focusing my energy and my will on the quivering muscles in
my arms. I only realized I had managed the final lift by the raucous
eruption of cheers through the bus. I opened my eyes and saw the blurry
images of every debater on their feet pumping fists, cheering and
clapping. I collapsed in a heap onto the floor.

      People were patting me on the back and cheering for me as I pulled
myself into the green Naugahyde, bus bench. My sweating back slipped easily
against the vinyl as I dropped from a sitting position to lying prone
across the bench, completely and utterly spent. I reveled in the almost
sexual, endorphin charged experience of pushing myself beyond my limits and
finishing. I love finishing. I live for it. Slowly, people returned to
their private chatter. William twisted in his seat and beamed down at
me. "That was a most impressive display of strength and willpower." I just
smiled back at him. He matched my smile then turned back and actually
engaged Brenda in conversation. I smiled wider as he made awkward, yet
clearly deliberate, attempts to carry on a conversation with her. I'm not
sure which of our two amazing feats was more impressive. My forty-seven
dips or William's forced conversation with Brenda.

      When we arrived back in the school parking lot, it was mostly emptied
out. Only a few straggling cars from students with extra-curricular
obligations were still there. My mother's Audi stood out in the empty
parking lot. While I was glad to have a ride home, given my spent physical
state, I couldn't help but worry about why she was there. I didn't put my
shirt back on, since I was still overheated. I pulled my shoes on and tied
them, grabbed my backpack and slung it over my back. The straps lay across
my naked, bulging pectorals and covered my nipples. As I was leaving the
bus, Mrs. Jones touched my arm and said, just loud enough for me to hear,
"Thanks for being a team leader and example."  I shrugged modestly and gave
a small grin. I hadn't thought of myself as a team leader before then, but
I supposed she was right. People did look up to me for a variety of
reasons. I needed to be true to that trust. I couldn't screw it up like I
did in wrestling.

      When I stepped off the bus, I walked over to where my mother
stood. She pulled out her iPhone and took several pictures of me. That
seemed odd. She wasn't the scrapbooking type. "Why are you shirtless?" she
snapped.

      "I was doing dips on the bus." She got a confused look on her face
indicating her lack of understanding. "You know," I explained, "dips
between the seats in the aisle." I made the arm motion of lowering my body
and then pushing it back up with my hands outstretched. Her look of lacking
understanding didn't change.

      "Why on earth?"

      "It's just a silly tradition we started. William and I got first
place today. When my team wins the meet, I do dips between the seats. Only
today, I got a little carried away and committed to doing forty-seven of
them and barely made it. It was awesome. Everyone was like cheering me on
at the end."

      With no acknowledgement of either accomplishment, she mocked, "You're
right, that is a silly tradition. Get in the car, but put your shirt on
first." Her tone informed me that the ride home was not going to be
pleasant. My elevated mood, dropped to the bottom floor once again. I
tossed my backpack in the back seat along with my blazer and put my shirt
on without buttoning it. I buckled my seatbelt and prepped myself for her
lecture.

      Mom climbed in, looked directly at me and said, "Buckle up."

      "I am buckled up, for God's sake. You're looking right at me! I
always buckle up. You don't have to tell me what to do all the time. I'm
not a fucking little child any longer, mom. I'm a big boy now. Stop
treating me like a baby." I snapped. I shocked myself by the outburst.

      "If you want to be treated like an adult, you need to act like
one. I've spoken to Mrs. Matthews and your suspension is back on. You
cheated by going to today's debate meet, but you will miss next week's and
you won't be going to that barbaric wrestling meet. I am deeply concerned
for your welfare. I will be taking a more active role in your life from now
on and someday you will thank me for it."

      I just stared in furious disbelief. I don't know why I should have
been surprised. I sort of knew it was coming. I'd just thought
Mrs. Matthews was stronger than my mother and would stand firm on
retracting my suspension. I guessed she played the parent card. "I wish you
wouldn't." I finally said in a measured tone, barely in control of my inner
rage.

      "Wouldn't what?"

      "Take an active role in my life. You always just fuck it up."

      She glared at me. I looked out the passenger window. Then she did
something I never, ever remember her doing in my whole life. She struck me,
hard, across the face. I jerked in shocked reaction, held my hand to the
stinging flesh of my cheek, and burst into tears. Big, uncontrollable,
heartache filled tears.

      My mother pulled her offending hand to her chest and looked away,
intently focused on the road ahead. A strange, cold demeanor overtook
her. Apologies were required from both of us, but none were forthcoming. I
reached out and directed the air conditioning vent toward my face and
forced myself to look away.

      When we arrived home, I jumped quickly from the car and retrieved my
pack and blazer and headed straight to the door, entering into the hall and
rushing past my parents' bedroom then up the stairs. I barely took notice
of my father in the family room and didn't respond to his question about
how the debate meet had gone. After my door was tightly slammed and I was
prone on the bed with my face buried in my pillow, I heard the elevated
voices of my parents. The words were unintelligible but the tone was loud
and clear. They were arguing and I was the center of the argument. That was
also new to me. I had witnessed the cold distance between my parents for
years, but if they had argued before, they had done it out of my presence
or earshot.

      Suddenly, my door burst open and I rolled over to see who it was. It
was both of them. "Sit up. We need to talk," my mother said.

      I obeyed and pulled my pillow to my chest, hugging it. "What?" I
asked.

      "I am insisting on some changes around here," she continued. "You
need more direction and discipline in your life. I have joined a Christian
church and I want you to attend there with me. They have a youth group you
can get involved with that will be good for you. You need to change your
friendships."

      "No. I have a church I'm going to. My first youth group meeting is
tonight."

      She looked surprised at me and asked where. "It's called the Church
of the Rock. It's a Presbyterian church, and it's where William goes. I'm
going with him."

      "I haven't heard of that church, but I will ask Reverend Rick about
it. I don't care for your association with William. He will not help you
along in your goals to become a successful lawyer and parent. He is a bad
influence on you. Likewise, I won't have you cavorting around with those
disgusting wrestler boys."

      "You don't know shit!"

      "Kyle! Don't use that language with your mom," my father chided. I
was crushed that he was taking her side again and glared at him.

      "Clovis," he began, "You don't have the right to uproot Kyle's
friendships. You left, remember?" Dad went back up a notch.

       "I'm still his mother and I have every right to direct his
friendships, like it or not." My father just rolled his eyes in
exasperation.

      "I will come and take you to the church this evening and inspect the
situation. If I approve, and if Reverend Rick approves, then you may
continue to attend there."

      I opened my mouth prepared to tell her to "fuck off," but the look
from my father warned me to leave well enough alone and I shut it again. "I
need to leave in an hour."

      "Fine, I'll run to the store and be back." Turning to my father, she
said, "Please transfer the funds into my account as we agreed." He just
grimaced and nodded.

      When she was gone, I turned to my father and started to cry. He sat
next to me and I dropped the pillow and hugged him instead. He stroked the
back of my head and shoulders as I cried into the crook of his neck. "She
hit me in the car today," I said.

      "I know. She told me."

      "I hate her."

      "Shhhh. Don't say that. She's your mom. She means well, she just
isn't very good at it."

      "I don't believe it. She doesn't care about me. She just wants to
control me. I can't stand it. Make her go away."

      "I'll do my best to keep her from interfering too much in your
life. I promise that."

      "I'm not abandoning William. I'm not going to quit hanging out with
Scotty and Kirk either. I don't care what she says. I'm not doing that."

      "I know son. I know."

      Reluctantly, I pulled away from my father and began to change
clothes. I stripped naked in front of him and walked to the bathroom. I
showered quickly and returned to find my father still sitting on my bed
with his head in his hands staring blankly at the wall. I pulled on my
boxers and a pair of jeans and asked, "You okay?"

      He looked slowly up and said. "Not really." I sat next to him and
this time he broke into tears. I held him against my bare flesh while he
fought in vain to stifle his sobs. "She's gone Kyle. Forever. She's not
ever coming back to us. She and R..." He cut his sentence short and fell
silent. I didn't feel good about pressing him about what he withheld from
me.

      For the life of me, I couldn't see why he would care, but I didn't
understand their history together. I didn't understand the bonding effect
of courtship, marriage and sex. I didn't understand the loyal nature of my
father. I didn't understand much at all besides the obvious painful display
of emotion playing out at the moment.

      "I'm sorry, dad."

      "I love you, son."

      "I love you too, dad. We always got each other, right?"

      "Yes. Yes we do." He hugged me back and left, but popped back in and
said, "Sorry for that, I'm okay now. Thanks."

      "No sweat, dad." He smiled and left. I found an appropriate t-shirt
and Nike ankle socks. I'd just wiggled my heel into my Vans when mom walked
into my room carrying a large stuffed monkey. It looked similar to the one
she had thrown out when I was ten, saying I was too old for such things and
that it was full of germs. I remember how hurt and angry I was at the loss
of it. This was a poor and long overdue replacement, but I had to
appreciate the fact that she was gesturing some sort of peace offering.

      "I got this for you. I want to get over our hurt," she said in her
sugary voice.

      "Okay. Thanks, I guess. But I'm not giving up my friends just because
you bought me a stuffed monkey."

      "I know. We'll talk about that later. How about if I set Mr. Giggles
here on your dresser?"

      "Fine. But he's not Mr. Giggles. I'm sorry I was disrespectful," I
managed to choke out.

      "Thank you for admitting it. Admission is the first step to
correcting behavior. So, shall we go?"

      "Yeah, we need to. We need to pick William up, but you have to
promise to be nice to him. His mom's feeling sick again and she can't take
him."

      "Don't worry, I'll be civil to William. My feelings about him haven't
changed, however."

      "Whatever. Just no mean comments."

      The look of disgust and utter disdain on my mother's face, as we
drove into the mobile home park, was actually amusing. When William came
out of the house followed by his drunken father in a stained wife-beater
and boxer shorts, I inwardly groaned. My mother's mouth drooped open in
appalled stupor.

      "Hello, Mrs. Davis," William chirped as he climbed into the back seat
of the Audi and bumped knuckles with me. "This is quite enthralling to
attend a religious activity with my friend, Kyle, and the other youth. I
have always had unconquerable trepidation in attending by myself. Now that
Kyle is my friend, I have abandoned my fear."

      My mother simply said, "That's nice."

      In an effort to be uncharacteristically conversational, he continued,
"I'm sure you will be pleased to know, my testicle and penis have healed up
nicely."

      My mother's jaw tightened and her color flushed a bit as she
responded again, "That's nice."

      There was a pause and William asked, "Did you know the surgeon
extracted my injured testicle?" Before my mom could answer he continued,
"Next year, the opportunity will be afforded me to secure an artificial
testicle made of silicone. It will be of the same size and weight as my
natural testicle. The body doesn't reject silicone. It will reinstate my
natural appearance and feel. I'm glad because I enjoy the tactile sensation
associated with feeling my testicle."

      "That's nice," my mother said for the third time trying to clue him
in that she wasn't interested.

      "What is, Mrs. Davis?"

      "What is what, William?" She said a bit exasperated. I was totally
entertained and amused by the exchange.

      "Nice. You said, 'that's nice,' but you didn't specify what was
nice. Did you mean it's nice that I had my testicle removed, or nice that I
may obtain a replacement, or nice that I enjoy touching my testicle?"

      I started to shake in stifled laughter as my mom reacted and blurted,
"No! I meant it's nice that you can get a replacement. I really don't want
to talk about this."

      "Okay." William sat back and was quiet for a few minutes, then said,
"I have a girlfriend. Her name is Brenda. Kyle asked her to go with me to
the Fall Formal. Actually, I called her on the phone and asked her, but
Kyle asked her if I could ask her. She said yes. As implied by the title,
the Fall Formal is a dance that you dress up for. Kyle and I are not
wearing tuxedos, only suits. Brenda is wearing a green dress, so I will
give her a white flower with some green mixed in. I'll wear a green tie so
that we are coordinated. I'm probably not going to marry her, but if I did,
the doctor said my remaining testicle generates sufficient spermatozoa for
successful procreation."

      I was biting the insides of my cheeks at this point. My mother looked
as uncomfortable as a worm in a birdbath.

      But he wasn't done. He continued, "To test my sperm count and
mobility, I had to ejaculate into a vial."

      "William! Please! I don't want to discuss this. Please just be
quiet."

      "Okay." William leaned back in his seat and rubbed his hand over the
cover of his bible.

      When we arrived, my mother insisted, against my protests, on coming
in and meeting Pastor Morgan. There were a number of youth milling around
waiting for things to get started. A few introduced themselves and said
hello to William. William started introducing me after I urged him to do
so. There was a pretty good group there. There were twelve girls and
William and I added to seven other boys for a total of nine, some were cute
and some were not. Some of the girls were cute also. Everyone, however, was
friendly and inclusive. I immediately felt accepted and comfortable, as did
William from what I could tell. He'd gotten engaged in a doctrinal debate
with a fairly cute ginger haired guy. I was captivated by his quick smile
and smattering of freckles across the bridge of his nose. The youth in
attendance ranged from fourteen to eighteen years old.

      I managed to overhear most of my mom's conversation with Pastor
Morgan. She asked him if he'd heard of Reverend Rick Bartholomew and his
new church, Revive and Thrive. Pastor Morgan wisely picked up on her
infatuated tone as she spoke of Reverend Rick in an almost worshipful
manner. Pastor Morgan said he had heard of Reverend Rick and his new church
and wished him well in his efforts to build a new fundamentalist
congregation. He then praised me for being so kind to William and he even
praised my mom for raising such a fine son. She lapped up the
flattery. Before she left, she came over and told me that it seemed okay
but she needed to talk to Reverend Rick about it before she made her final
decision. She also informed us that we would have to find a ride home since
she had an important meeting with Reverend Rick that evening. The lack of
notice about the ride annoyed me, but I held my tongue.

      I watched her depart, relieved that there hadn't been any kind of
ugly scene. As she reached the door, to my delight, it sprung open and was
held for her by Scotty. He showed no sign of recognizing her but it struck
me odd that she glared at him as if he had just tried to mug her. I shook
it off and waved him over as he entered, once mom cleared out of the
doorway. "Scotty!" We bumped knuckles, slid palms and tapped forearms in
our customary greeting. I wanted to grab and kiss him. His eyes
sparkled. "I didn't really think you'd come."

      "Why not?"

      "Just the way you said 'maybe' and didn't commit."

      "Well, just goes to show what you know, banana breath."

      "You wish," I said with a sly grin. He winked back at me and then I
asked, "So do you know my mom? She kind of acted like she knew you when you
held the door for her."

      "That lady was your mom? No, I never saw her before. She sure gave me
a mean look. Is she pissed off at you over something?"

      "Yeah, she's always pissed at me for something, it seems like, but
she doesn't usually take it out on strangers." We laughed and I drug him
over by William and Pastor Morgan. "Look who's here," I said to William.

      To my relief, William brightened at seeing Scotty. "Welcome." Pastor
Morgan released William from the embrace around the shoulder and reached
his hand over to Scotty. Scotty switched his Bible to his left hand and
shook Pastor Morgan's hand in fellowship.

      "Hello Scotty," Pastor Morgan said, "It's nice to see you here."

      "Thanks. I'm glad I finally came." Scotty's tone and demeanor around
the Pastor was curious.

      Now, with William and Scotty present, it was almost perfect. I felt
like I'd found a new home. The warm, happy tingles started just under my
scalp and spread through my soul, filling me with joy and light. I found it
strange that several people, including the ginger haired hottie, already
knew Scotty and greeted him like old friends. Pastor Morgan called everyone
to assemble and we went into a small meeting room.

      We started with a song led by one of the girls and then a
prayer. Tanner, the cute fourteen year old ginger, stood and told us to all
turn to 1st Timothy chapter four, and starting with verse 12, he began to
read:

      "Let no man despise your youth; but be thou an example of the
believers, in word, in conversation, in charity, in spirit, in faith, in
purity."

      He paused and commented on the scripture. I felt left out since I was
the only one without a Bible. I leaned over and looked at William's well
worn book. I felt a tap on my shoulder and I turned to find Pastor Morgan
handing me a new Bible with a kind, understanding smile. I whispered a
thank you and thumbed through it until I found the section.

      "Just because we are young," Tanner began, "doesn't mean we can't be
effective witnesses of Christ. We need to set an example for our peers and
even our parents sometimes. We have to be better than the rest of the world
who live without Christ's example. We need to use clean language in our
conversations. We need to be kind to others and do acts of charity, even to
people who may be unkind to us." That drilled to my core. It was what
William had been trying to teach me.

      "The apostle Paul continued to teach Timothy in his letter," Tanner
said. "Will someone read verses 13 and 15 please?" William's hand shot up
and Tanner nodded toward him.

      "Till I come, give attendance to reading, to exhortation, to
doctrine. Neglect not the gift that is in thee, which was given thee by
prophecy, with the laying on of the hands of the presbytery. Meditate upon
these things; give thyself wholly to them; that thy profiting may appear to
all."

	"What does that mean to you, William?"

	"It means we need to read the Bible consistently and to converse
about it and ponder over the doctrine like we're doing now. And it means
that the special gifts God has given us, we need to share with others. Like
Pastor Morgan has the gift to preach and shepherd us. Kyle, my friend here,
has the gift of friendship and is the best friend ever. Look." William
lifted both feet in the air and pulled his pant legs up. "He gave me these
shoes. An evil kid stole one and it got lost, but Kyle got it back for me
and even got it all clean. He's my best friend."

	"That's great. By the way, welcome to our group, Kyle."

	"Thanks. I said modestly and blushing a bit." I had to reach over
and prod William to put his feet back on the floor.

	"Like William said," Tanner began again, "we all need to discover
our own God given gifts and bring them out of the closet and start using
them to benefit others and ourselves." He looked at me and smiled his
quick, beautiful smile. I smiled back a bit nervously for whatever
reason. I was strangely drawn to him.

	Tanner sat down and another older boy stood and announced that the
activity was going to be midnight dodge ball in the parking lot. Pastor
Morgan produced two "glow in the dark" playground balls and we all hustled
out of the building into the mostly vacant parking lot. Lines had been
painted in the back corner indicating they had played this before. Two
captains were selected and Pastor Morgan whispered in each of their
ears. The first person chosen was William. He beamed, as he took his place
next to the captain that had selected him first. The next selection was
Scotty. The third selection was for me going over to join the team William
was on. Selections continued until everyone was on a team.

	Pastor Morgan briefly reviewed the rules and the game was on. It
was so much fun. The glowing green balls seemed to be floating in the air
until the darkened figures holding them propelled them towards me. William
couldn't throw very well, but he was amazing at avoiding getting hit. The
ranks dwindled until only William and I were remaining on our team against
Tanner and Scotty on the other.

	Tanner turned and bent over to grab a ball and I nailed him
squarely in the ass. Problem was that I didn't see Scotty had gotten the
ball Tanner was after and he hit me in the leg right after I hit
Tanner. That left William versus Scotty. Scotty fired shot after shot at
William and everyone cheered as William leapt, twisted, and even dropped to
the pavement to avoid being hit. Finally, Pastor Morgan declared it a
stalemate, naming both teams as winners. We all went inside to the
recreation room and had root beer floats. Scotty passed on his and William
gladly consumed it for him. People were still patting William on the back
and complimenting his dodging skills, much to his delight. I needed to pee
and excused myself.

	I found the head with the boy picture on it and walked in. I sensed
another's presence and discovered Tanner following me in. "Hey. Good game,"
I said to make some conversation.

	"Yeah, that's always fun. We play it often. You have a strong
arm. My butt's still red where you hit me, I think."

	I laughed with him over it. "Lucky shot."

	"Just a big target, hard to miss I guess."

	"Your ass isn't big. In fact, it's pretty hot." The words escaped
my lips before my brain approved them and I immediately blushed. "I mean,
nicely shaped, er... I mean normal. God, you know what I mean, not big." I
couldn't believe how flustered I was around this kid. He just smiled his
wonderful toothy grin. There were two urinals and one stall. He moved up to
one urinal and unsnapped, unzipped and then pulled his pants and boxers
down below his finely shaped ass that was white as snow except for a round,
red mark on the left cheek.

	"Yup, I knew you left your mark on my ass. See."

	"Dude, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to throw it that hard."

	"Nah, it's fine. My fair complexion shows marks really easy. Part
of being a red head, I guess."

	I headed into the stall to allow him some privacy but as I entered,
I saw the sign and simultaneously Tanner warned me, "That toilet's been
broken for months. If you need to take a dump, you have to go all the way
over to the other side by the sanctuary."

	"No, I just need to whiz; I was just giving you some space while
you did your business."

	"Oh, I don't care if you stand by me. I'm not a nervous pisser. I
can go anywhere in front of anyone if I need to pee. Can't you?"

	"No, I can. I was just, you know, being polite." I stepped up and
pulled Little Rock out of my fly and my aching bladder quickly took the
opportunity for relief. I glanced over out of irresistible curiosity and
noticed Tanner checking me out as well. He had hold of a nice, thick fire
hose dousing the urinal with a steady stream of yellow liquid. Above his
enticing dick was a small patch of flaming red pubic hair. I was fascinated
by it but forced my eyes forward to stare at the flushing handle, feeling
ridiculous at my obvious curiosity.

	Soon the sound of his stream turned to a trickle. Motion caught my
eye as he waggled his nice dick to clear the last drops. My own stream
slowed and began coming out in spurts and he was still waggling his dick. I
peeked back over and he was growing hard. I looked at his face and he
looked me in the eye warily. I smiled back and winked and then said, "I'll
lock the door on my way out."

	"Ah, okay. But I was kind of hoping I could get some help with it."

	I looked at him and he let go of his six fully engorged inches and
framed it with both hands. My heart skipped a beat and I wondered how he
dared be so forward with a relative stranger. I worried that I was being so
obvious about my lustful infatuation with him that I was setting off
people's gaydar. "Well, I'd like to, honestly, but I wouldn't feel right
about it. Sorry."

	"Okay. Darn. I was really hoping. You're freaking hot. Is it
William or Scotty? Or is it someone else?"

	I didn't know how to answer. "I'd rather not say."

	"K. I get you. That's cool. I don't think whoever it is would mind
though, if you just helped me out here a little. No attachments, just a
quick jerk. Please."

	I nibbled at my bottom lip and then pushed the knob on the door
handle in and walked back to a grinning ginger boy who plastered himself
against the smooth, beige metal wall of the toilet stall. "This is whack,"
I said, "I really shouldn't be doing this."

	"Thanks dude. I need it bad. You're the best."

	I knelt in front of him and with shaking hands took hold of his
nice, thick cock and stroked him. He moaned in appreciation. I quickened
the pace and was quickly boned up myself. I had to stop and adjust Little
Rock into a comfortable position. When I resumed stroking his fine cock,
Tanner began rubbing his hands over the short, buzzed stubble on my head
and moaning softly. "Oh dude, that's awesome. Suck my balls, please." I
thought about it for a minute and then leaned in and smelled his sweaty
musk from the dodge ball game. It was intoxicating. I licked one and then
the other of his balls and tasted the saltiness of the sweat. Then I
slipped one of his smooth testicles into my mouth engulfing it while I
stroked him faster. He immediately started bucking his hips and I felt a
warm ooze spread across the side of my face. I held his retreating nut in
my mouth and slowed my jacking motion until he had emptied both balls onto
my cheek, ear and neck and of course, the floor. Some dribbled into my
mouth and it had a uniquely sweet flavor to it.

	When he was done, he pulled my hand from his tender, bright red
dick and cautiously milked the last few drops out. I retreated to the sink
and washed my face then dried off with paper towels. I looked at myself in
the mirror and wondered why I had just done that. I felt suddenly
embarrassed and a bit ashamed. He pulled his pants up and grabbed a fistful
of towels to wipe up the floor with. We stashed the towels in the trash and
he reached for the door handle, "Thanks dude. You rock."

	That made me chuckle. I wondered if he'd heard me called by my
nickname, but I doubted it - just a coincidence. When we returned, everyone
was finishing up and leaving. "What took you?" Scotty asked. I fumbled for
an answer but Tanner jumped to my rescue.

      "He was lost. I found him wandering around looking for the head so I
showed him where it was."

      Scotty smiled. "I'll bet you showed him more than just that." Tanner
didn't react to the comment but I did. Hard as I tried not to, I suddenly
felt like we'd been watched on a giant TV screen by everyone in the room. I
felt small, exposed and stupid. I was afraid I'd hurt Scotty's feelings
somehow, though, he knew I messed around with Kirk and I knew he messed
around with Kirk and some other people too. Still, I felt like I'd cheated
on him somehow. I didn't like the feeling.

      "We need to find a ride," I said to break away from the awkward
moment. "Maybe you could give us a ride," I said to Tanner.

      "Sorry. Our car is full already."

      "My mom's picking me up, so she'll give you and William a ride,"
Scotty offered.

      "Oh, that's cool. I wasn't thinking."

      We walked out together and William was still reliving the dodge ball
game. When we got to William's trailer, the creepy guy with the greasy hair
was on the porch handing over another trash bag to the barnacle. William
got all nervous and said, "Please Mrs. Simons, can you keep driving for a
little bit, I don't want to go in until that man leaves. He's not a nice
man."

      "Certainly," Scotty's mom said. She drove past and rounded the
corner. When she was out of sight of the trailer, she pulled over and
parked. She turned in her seat and asked. "William is everything all right
at your home? Are you safe?"

      He looked down and said softly, "Yes, ma'am. I'm safe. I just don't
like that man who is visiting my father. I don't want him to see me."
Mrs. Simons studied William along with Scotty and me. Then she turned
around without asking anything more. Silence hung in the car like a dark
curtain. "I suspect he has departed. We can go back now." Scotty's mom
started the car and we drove back around the large circle. Sure enough,
when we rounded the corner, the beat up old car was gone and William's
father had disappeared.

      William jumped out and thanked us all profusely for going with him to
the youth group and for the ride home. He reached in and grabbed his Bible
off the seat, shut the door and hurried inside. Mrs. Simons waited, a bit
hesitant to drive off, still not comfortable with the situation. None of us
were, especially me. Along the way, I begged if Scotty could spend the
night at my house again. The answer was predictable since it was a school
night, but I pressed on. Finally, Mrs. Simons caved in since we both swore
we would go straight to bed and there would be no video games or
television. I had clothes he could borrow even though he was a bit taller
than me. My shorts and t-shirts would still fit him.

      We got my dad's approval and headed upstairs to my room, leaving dad
and Scotty's mom to their conversation. I closed the door and Scotty pulled
me into a hug and kissed me. I melted into him. After a few minutes of
tonsil swabbing, we retreated to my bathroom and took care of the evening
business, then went downstairs to say goodnight to my dad. He was reading
some papers in his study. He wished us goodnight and asked what time we
needed to be to school.

      "I don't need to be at school. Mom screwed that all up for me today."
I went on to explain the whole mess with her and he just shook his head in
annoyance, apologizing over and over for something that wasn't his
fault. Scotty agreed that he would go with my dad to work after we went on
our morning run. Then, we bounded up the stairs and into my room, shut the
door, stripped naked and kept our promise to Scotty's mom by going straight
to bed.

      I turned from the wall, rolling to my right side and ogled Scotty in
the dim light from the window. He rolled his head toward me and smiled
warmly. "Scotty," I said. Nervous guilt boiled in me. "I have to tell you
something about tonight."

      "Let me guess. You sucked Tanner's balls for him in the
bathroom. And, he never even offered to do anything for you back."

      "Holy shit, how did you know that?"

      "That's his favorite thing on the planet to do. He talked me into it
before, too."

      "He did? How do you know him? He doesn't go to our school, does he?"

      "No. He's part of our nudist group. He talked me into doing it out in
the woods on a camping trip once."

      "Oh. Wow. Do you do a lot of sex stuff with people on the nudist
trips?"

      "No. It's really frowned on, to be honest. I've done very little
there. It's really not about sex, it's about personal freedom and self
expression.  It's more about breaking down barriers between each other as
fellow humans. It eliminates symbols of wealth and poverty, style and
fashion, pride and power. It makes it easier to see everyone as
equals. Tanner was an exception, not the rule."

      "Okay. That sounds pretty cool. I wish I could go with you sometime."

      "Yeah, I'd love that. I might have to make an exception on the sex
thing though, if you came along." There was a comfortable pause while we
lay there smiling at each other. I reached out and rubbed my hand over his
firm chest and abs. He rolled to face me and we slipped arms around
shoulders and intertwined legs, pressing flesh to flesh. Our foreheads
pressed together. "So, why did you feel the need to tell me about Tanner?"

      "I don't know. I just felt guilty about it."

      "I don't own you. You're free to mess around if you want."

      "I know. I guess. I don't think I want." He smiled and we kissed slow
and tender until sleep overtook us.