Date: Thu, 15 Mar 2007 16:26:01 -0400
From: ronyx <ronyx@woh.rr.com>
Subject: Taking Off the Mask   Chapter 2

The following is a work of fiction. Any similarities to anyone are purely
coincidental. The story is intended for a mature audience. It may contain
profanity and references to gay sex. If this offends you, please leave
and find something more suitable to read. The author maintains all rights
to the story. Do not copy or use without written permission. Write Ron at
ronyx@woh.rr.com with your comments.  Ronyx is a Nifty prolific writer.



Taking Off the Mask         Chapter 2



When I went downstairs the next morning, my mother was sitting at the
kitchen table drinking a cup of coffee and reading the newspaper. Janet
was eating a bowl of cereal. She looked up when I entered, but then she
looked down and continued eating.

At least Janet looked at me. My mother's eyes never left the newspaper.
I looked at the seat where I normally sat. Usually there was a bowl of
cereal and a glass of milk there. This morning there was nothing. I
sighed and walked over to the cabinet and took out a glass and poured
myself some milk. I left the kitchen and headed back to my room to finish
getting ready for school.

This was the first time she had ever given me the silent treatment.
Usually she would rant and rave a while and then ground me for a few
days. If I had done something really bad, I'd lose some privileges.
However, she had never reacted in this manner before. I wasn't quite
sure what I was to do.

I finished dressing and headed back downstairs. Mom was still sitting in
the same spot. I considered apologizing, but the look on her face told me
that she probably didn't want to hear it.

"Bye, Mom." I looked over expecting her to say something, but she kept
reading the paper without looking up. When I got outside, Jackie was
sitting on the porch.

"What's wrong with your Mom?" she asked as we started walking down the
sidewalk to school.

"Why?"

"I asked her if you were ready to leave and she said, `I don't know.'
She didn't say anything more. What happened when you got home from
detention?"

"That's just it," I replied, "She won't talk to me. She sent me to
my room and didn't even punish me. It's really weird. I'm kind of
scared. I don't know what she's planning to do."

"Wow!" Jackie said in disbelief. "Something that serious and she
didn't even punish you?"

"She will," I sighed. "She will."

We continued on to school. Jackie apologized about ten times for getting
me in trouble in Mrs. Horner's class. I told her it wasn't her fault,
because I should have been paying attention and not watching her.

"By the way," she asked, "how did detention go?"

"Not too bad," I said. "Mr. Marshall had us alphabetizing some stupid
schedules."

"Us?" Jackie asked as she looked over at me.

"Yeah," I responded. "Me and Dion Washington. Do you know him?"

"Isn't he that cute black guy in our class?" she asked. "He never
says anything to anyone. What did he do?"

"Nothing."

"What?"

"Nothing. He said he did nothing."

"Yeah sure. You get detention because you did nothing."

"I don't like him," I confessed. "He's awfully rude. He wouldn't
even talk to me."

"He doesn't talk to anyone," she said. "He's in two of my classes
this year, and I've never seen him say anything to anyone. He pretty
much stays to himself."

"With his attitude," I said, "I can understand why."

"Maybe he needs a friend," she offered.

"Then he should get a dog," I replied.

After arriving at school, we headed to our classes. A couple of students
in my first period came up to me and told me I had balls for telling Mrs.
Horner to shut up. Mr. Wellington, the literature teacher, walked up and
lectured us on the importance of being respectful to our elders.

"Just think how you would feel if you were forty and a child told you to
shut up," he said.

"I'd smack him into tomorrow," laughed Clinton, one of the guys who
had shown his appreciation for my disrespectful behavior toward Mrs.
Horner.

"Well, unfortunately, Clinton," said Mr. Wellington, "teachers can't
do that. As much as we'd like to sometimes," he said quickly as he
walked off.

I met up with Jackie for lunch. We sat at the same table for the past
year and a half. We had staked it out the first day, and it had become
ours. Lunch tables are like the opening of the Oklahoma territory. When
the bell rings that first day of school, students rush to the cafeteria
to `claim their territory.' For the remainder of the school year that
was their assigned eating place. No one dared infringe upon it.

There were a few tables along the walls where most of the students who
had no friends sat. Occasionally, they might strike up a conversation;
but generally, they would sit wherever there was an open seat.

Jackie and I declared squatters' rights at our table the first day. It
wasn't in the center of the cafeteria where most of the popular students
sat; but it was far enough from the walls so we didn't look like losers.

"How's your day been, so far?" Jackie asked as I sat down.

"One word- boring." I replied.

"It is school, you know." She said. "It's supposed to be boring. If
it wasn't, we just might learn something."

"You got that right," I laughed.

"Guess what?" she said excitedly. "I know why Dion has detention.
He's in my second period, and I heard some students talking about him."

"What did he do?" I asked. "I know it wasn't for talking in class,
since he doesn't talk to anyone."

"Brenda was in the cafeteria yesterday." She began. "She was behind
him in the food line and saw him put a sandwich in his pocket. Then he
got a milk and paid just for it. As soon as he walked away, Mr. Marshall
stopped him, checked his pocket, and found the sandwich. He then took him
to the office."

"He stole food?" I asked. "Who would steal this crap?" I held up my
dry bologna sandwich and waved it around.

"Maybe he was hungry and didn't have the money to pay for it." She
suggested.

"Why doesn't he get a free lunch then?" I wondered. "I thought
students who couldn't afford it got a free meal."

"Beats me," she shrugged her shoulders. "I felt sorry for him though.
You know Brenda has a big mouth, and he heard every word she said."

I was going to say I didn't feel sorry for him, but Jackie would have
gotten upset. She was always fighting for the underdog. Jackie is the
kind of girl who would give an addict on the street her last dollar,
believing that he would actually buy food with it instead of drugs.

We sat for the next few minutes without saying anything. I was deep in
thought, wondering why someone like Dion would steal food from the
cafeteria. I wondered if he came from a poor family and took it because
there was nothing at his house for him to eat. Suddenly, I began to feel
sorry for him. Not sorry enough, though, that I would give him my last
dollar.

"Look," said Jackie, interrupting my thoughts. "There goes Donovan."
She dreamily watched him walk across the cafeteria. Donovan Michaels was
a star basketball player for our school. He stood 6'5" and was
extremely handsome. He had long black hair that matched the beginnings of
a dark mustache. Every girl in school swooned when they saw him.
Unfortunately, rumor had it that he played for the other side- if you
know what I mean.

"You should ask him out," said Jackie.

I spit out the mouthful of milk I had just sipped. "What!" I shouted.
"You can't be serious."

"Why not?" she asked. "You're one of the cutest guys in our class,
except for Donovan, of course; and maybe Gene Pooler." Gene was another
handsome guy who was admired by everyone. Unfortunately, for the throngs
of worshipping teen girls, he had been faithfully dating the same girl
since the eighth grade.

"Like he'd go out with me." I exclaimed.

"You'd make a cute couple," she continued to try to play matchmaker.
"He's tall and.."

"I'm short." I interrupted.

"He has black hair.."

"And I have blond."

"He has brown eyes.."

"And I have baby blues."

"He's athletic.."

"And my idea of sports is watching it on television. That is, if I
don't fall asleep."

"See," she insisted. "Opposites attract. You're a perfect couple."

"Shut up, Jackie." I laughed.

"That remark just got you five days of detention." She started to laugh
until I cast her a dirty look.

"Oops, sorry." She said. "Will I see you later then?"

"Yeah," I replied. "Come by the house after dinner. Since Mom isn't
talking to me, I might need someone around who likes me."

"Who said I like you?" The bell rang and she got up to leave. As she
walked away, she looked over her shoulder and said, "I still think you
should ask Donovan out." I rolled my eyes and headed off to class.

Later, when I entered Mrs. Horner's fifth period class, she ignored me
when I walked into the room. She was talking to another student and she
looked over at me. She then she looked away. I had a sinking feeling that
I was going to have to struggle to get a good grade anymore out of her
history class.

"Don't talk to me," I said to Jackie as I sat down. "And don't look
at me." I sat for the next hour the most attentive student in the class.
I forced my eyes to stay open when she lectured on the battle strategies
of the North and the South during the Civil War. By the time she got to
the Battle of Gettysburg I was afraid I'd need toothpicks to hold my
eyelids open. I looked around the room and I was about the only student
still awake, except Agatha Grimwold. She was sitting in the front row
taking notes. Taking notes!

When the bell rang, I was almost catatonic. Jackie lifted her head off
the desk. She wiped the table off where she had drooled on it while she
was asleep. "Did I miss anything important?"

"Only one of the greatest lectures of all time," I yawned.

"Yeah, right."

At the end of the day, I put all my books in my locker. There was no
sense in taking them with me. After yesterday, I knew Mr. Marshall
wouldn't let us do our homework. I`d just get them when detention was
over.

When I walked into his office, Dion was talking quietly to him. They
suddenly stopped when I entered.

"Good," he looked at his watch. "You're on time." He reached into
his pocket and pulled out two toothbrushes. "Here."

My eyes widened as he handed me a blue one. He gave Dion a yellow one.
"What do you want us to do with these?"

"Take these to the boys' restroom on the second floor and scour the
urinals."

"What?" I jumped from my chair. "You can't be serious? Can you? They
only do this in the movies, right?"

"I'll check on you in an hour." He said seriously, and then rose and
walked out of the room.

"I can't believe this!" I shouted. "I'm not going to clean pissy
urinals. He didn't even give us any gloves." Dion just sat and looked
at me while I paced around the room raging like a mad man.

"There has to be some law against this. I`m going to call the police!"
I screamed. I looked down and saw a smile begin to form in the corner of
Dion's mouth. "What's going on here?"

"Gotcha!" Mr. Marshall peeked his head in the door and began to laugh.
He walked in holding his sides. "That was priceless, James." I looked
over and Dion was laughing.

"I guess you think that's funny?" I said angrily.

"Actually it was," laughed Mr. Marshall. "I've pulled this on dozens
of students. I don't think any have gotten as upset as you."

"And you were in on it?" I asked Dion. "That's why you didn't say
anything."

"Don't get mad at him," said Mr. Marshall. "He was supposed to play
along." He looked down at Dion.

"Sorry," he replied meekly.

"Ok, Gentleman." He started for the door. "Follow me."

We trailed behind him as he led us to the gym. The basketball team was
playing a scrimmage on the court. We followed Mr. Marshall into the
locker room. He opened a door and we entered the training room. He led us
over to a table with a pile of wrinkled towels on top.

"The team's manager is off sick today," he said. "The coach needs
someone to fold these towels. I'll come back in an hour and get you."
He turned and walked out, leaving me once again alone with Mr. Sunshine.

"Here," I divided the pile into two stacks. "You fold these, and I'll
do this pile." He began working without saying anything. We worked for
about thirty minutes. I never realized that folding towels could be so
tiring. My arms were starting to hurt after I had finished the first
hundred. Yes, I was counting them as I folded them.

Suddenly, the door opened and the team came walking in noisily. They were
sweating profusely and pushing one another. I stopped folding when I saw
Donovan walking towards me.

"Hey Little Dude," he smiled. "How about a towel?" I almost melted
into his eyes when I looked up. He stood staring down at me as I was
caught up in his muscular features. "Towel, Dude." He laughed. I handed
him a towel and watched him strut into the changing room. What I would
have given to have been that towel. In about fifteen minutes it would be
running over his naked body.

I looked over and saw Dion studying me. He looked away quickly, but not
before our eyes met. I felt a shiver run through my body. I felt that in
that second he had read my reaction to Donovan. I was afraid he knew my
secret.

We continued folding the towels, and within ten minutes we had completed
the task. I looked at the clock and it would be another ten minutes
before Mr. Marshall would come get us. "I'm going to the bathroom," I
told Dion. I don't know why I felt the need to inform him where I was
going, but I did anyways.

I couldn't have timed it any better. When I walked into the changing
room, Donovan was standing naked in front of a bench, toweling himself
off. I tried not to look, but how can a gay boy walk into a room and see
the hottest guy in school standing naked in the middle of the room, and
not look? >From ten feet away I looked down and stared at his limp cock.
Now I knew why all the girls swooned over him.

He was huge! I'd run across some websites where they showed guys with
really big cocks, but I just thought it was the camera angle that made it
look so big. There was no way any angle could make Donovan's cock look
any larger. Though it was soft, it still hung about six inches resting on
a set of very large balls. And he shaved his pubes! Donovan Michaels
shaves his pubic hairs!

I started blushing profusely when I finally was able to pry my stare away
from his cock and look upward into the grinning face of Donovan. He had
caught me perving over his body! I hurried into the restroom and leaned
against the wall. I was breathing heavily and my cock was as hard as
steel. If there had been any doubt in my mind about my sexuality, it had
now been answered.

I tried to piss, but any guy who has ever tried to take a leak with a
hard-on knows it's impossible. I tried to picture Mrs. Horner lecturing
naked before the class to get it to go down, but images of Donovan
standing naked in the middle of the room kept creeping back. Finally, I
just zipped my pants up and left the restroom.

Fortunately, the basketball team had left by the time I went walking back
into the changing room. Dion was sitting on one of the benches waiting
for me. His eyes drifted down and noticed my cock trying to escape its
confines inside my pants. I'm not hung like Donovan, but a hard six
inches still makes a very noticeable bulge. For the second time in five
minutes, my face burned a bright red.

I sat down quickly on the bench about three feet away from Dion. I
crossed my legs and prayed it would go limp before Mr. Marshall returned.
I was able to get it to go down when I pictured Agatha Grimwold stripping
off her clothes in history class and reciting the Gettysburg Address.

We sat quietly looking at the walls of the gym room. It's funny how much
you can take in when you're sitting with someone who won't talk to you
and you don't want to act as if it is bothering you. I saw several marks
that looked like they could have resulted from towel fights. If they
popped them hard enough to scrap the paint off the wall, I shuddered to
think about the marks they left on someone's ass.

Occasionally, I'd look over and notice Dion looking at me. Of course,
he'd look away quickly when I would turn his way. Soon I made it a
little game. Each time I would look over a little quicker just to see how
fast he could turn his head away. I guess he got tired of playing the
game, because he stopped looking at me.

Mr. Marshall came and and led us back to his office. Again, he
congratulated us on our hard work. He reminded us to be prompt again the
next day.

I walked down the hall to retrieve my books from my locker. Dion was
walking about five feet behind me. I turned and made another attempt to
talk to him.

"That wasn't too bad," I said. He just looked at me and said nothing.

"Mr. Marshall really got me though when he handed us the toothbrushes."
I laughed. For just a second, it looked like Dion wanted to smile. I
swear that the corners of his mouth started to curl.

"Whatever," he remarked. He then hurried off down the hall and exited
the building. Three more days. Three days was all that was left to endure
his unfriendly attitude.

When I arrived home, my mother was working in her office. She was a
freelance writer and wrote from home. She worked for a magazine doing
research on various subjects and then submitting them for publication.
She also did work for several advertising companies, writing captions for
ads. Because of the money she made from her writing, her alimony payments
and the check she got each week from my father for child support, we
lived comfortably.

"Hi, Mom," I said as I passed her door. She was sitting at her computer
writing.

"Hello, James Michael," she replied without looking up. Good. She had
reduced her anger to two names. By tomorrow, it should be back to James.
However, she still hadn't given me my punishment. I knew it was just a
matter of time.

I went to my room, closed the door and lay down upon my bed. I didn't
want to forget the image of Donovan naked in the changing room. I lay
there and pictured every inch of his body, and I mean every inch. I wish
I had paid more attention to the definition of his body, so that my
fantasy could be more than just his limp six inches.

I unzipped my pants and took out my now very erect cock. I began stroking
it, remembering Donovan's hard body and soft cock. I closed my eyes and
imagined what it would be like to have him pressed up against my body,
kissing me while he ground his hard cock into mine.

I opened my mouth and he snaked his tongue into mine, licking along the
inside. I thrust my body up into his hard cock. I could feel my cum begin
to shoot out onto my stomach. In my fantasy I could feel Donovan unload
his cum onto my body as he pressed into me. He continued to kiss me. I
opened my eyes and looked lovingly into Dion's face.

Dion? What the hell was that all about? I had just experienced one of the
best orgasms of my life fantasizing about Donovan. How did Dion manage to
creep in at the last minute?

Suddenly there was a pounding on the door. "Mom said dinner's ready,"
shouted Janet. I pulled off my tee shirt and cleaned the cum from my
hands and stomach. I jumped off the bed and put on an old sweat suit,
still puzzled by my fantasy.

Dinner was awkward. Mom still wasn't saying anything to me. Usually,
dinner involved talking about school and things we were learning in
class. Janet told her about passing a math test, but all my mother said
was, `That's nice, dear.'

After dinner, Janet and I cleaned the table while Mom retired to her
office. I washed and Janet dried. "What happened?" Janet asked as we
were about finished. "Mom's not even talking to you. What did you do,
get some girl pregnant or something?"

"No I didn't get a girl pregnant," I replied angrily. "And besides,
you're too young to know about things like that."

"Am not."


"Are too."

"Am not."

"James Michael Hoskins!" My mother shouted from her office. "I want to
see you."

"Uh, oh," said Janet. "She used your whole name. You're in for it
now." I turned and headed slowly to her office. I guess the judge was
ready to hand down her sentence.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

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