Date: Wed, 6 Feb 2013 13:28:13 -0800 (PST)
From: Boris Chen <borischen@rocketmail.com>
Subject: The Reluctant Gay  by Boris Chen. Chapter 1

The Reluctant Gay, by Boris Chen

Chapter 1, The Awakening.

Since I was about six years old I knew. I didn't understand what it meant
back then. I knew it was somehow something I shouldn't tell another
soul. Telling my family wasn't going to happen. My mother was so up-tight
about sex and bodies, I have no idea how she managed to get pregnant four
times. That created a picture in my mind that made me puke in my mouth
sometimes.

I am a lost in the middle somewhere child.

The Golden Child was their starter kid. Nothing should be or could be
risked with that precious wonder. I think they saved everything from his
first year; poops, hair, exhaled air, shadows, etc. You name it, they saved
it. Hundreds of photos and hours of home movies on VHS tape. The golden boy
could do no wrong. He was smart enough to be a conformist and get the hell
out twenty days after high school graduation. He left so fast that June I
think the rest of us got bloody noses from the sudden drop in barometric
pressure.

Two more babies later I was born. I got to watch the golden child grow and
become a junior version of what I disrespected the most; my two-faced
father and my up-tight, medicated mother.

One last rant... The Golden Child was treated as if he was a crystal
chandelier from my grandmother's front room, while the last two kids (me
and Pete) were practically allowed to juggle knives and play with lawn
darts, or so it seemed.

At about age six I noticed I was fascinated with the neighbor kid. He was
older than the Golden Child by several years. At the time he was sixteen,
from my perspective of a tender six years of age I thought he was a god. I
was silently in love with his body.

In retrospect, he was just an average teen. Just got his drivers
license. He got his driving practice by driving his car in the woods on
fire break trails or by practicing parking in their driveway. Nonetheless,
I watched his every move. Especially when he was swimming in their
pool. His body pulled my young eyes like a bug to a street light. I had no
idea why he was so magnificent, nor why I felt compelled to watch and dream
of something I didn't understand. Like I said already, all I knew was that
it should remain my biggest secret.

Fast forward years to around my ninth birthday.

Like my DNA commanded, I was also up-tight about my body. I really had to
be pulled, dragged, sometimes kicking and struggling into new
experiences. Partially out of fear, partially out of embarrassment, and
partly out of guilt about my big secret.

I met another boy when they moved into our neighborhood. His family was
very different from ours. His was much more liberal about stuff than ours
was. In reality, the difference was like that between the Hoover Dam and
the Colorado River. But he was a lot like me. We both talked a good and
proper hetero line, but we secretly wanted to have someone else play with
our kiddie dicks. Who didn't at that age?

Luckily for me, Billy didn't take no for an answer. Luckily for me, his
parents contributed to his sexual growth and development. My family treated
sexual development the same way they treated a termite colony development
that invaded the west wall of our house.

Billy had his father's old Penthouse mags and two porn videos on VHS, a
huge library of records, plus he sometimes had a few cigarettes he swiped
from his mom's purse.

One Saturday Billy and I were on our bikes in the woods, it was summer
vacation, we'd both start fifth grade in the fall at the same school. Back
then in 1979 we rode single speed bikes with coaster brakes and knobby
tires. Billy lived on the corner of International Dr and Carol Way, kinda
on the way to the woods.

The woods were several blocks away. I grew up on Sixpence Lane (at the
intersection with Walden Trail) in Euless, Texas. It was kind of halfway
between Dallas and Fort Worth, Texas. It was slightly rolling country, lots
of trees and black dirt. It was very suburban but not a bad place to
grow-up.

We built a tree fort in the woods off Wiser Rd. There was lots of
construction so boards were easy to come by but it meant we'd need to plan
a camp-out in someone's back yard then sneak onto the building sites and
pilfer some boards and run them to the woods and get back before dawn.

Our location got some powerful summer storms so we had to build with
destruction in mind. We would get micro bursts that plowed through the
woods and took anything with it that wasn't stuck in the ground with very
deep and strong roots. I think between 5th grade and 10th grade we re-built
three times. Once was from a bad ice storm.

This year was really dry but no storm damage. We constructed our tree fort
about 200 feet away from the street, it was plywood, 2x4's and camouflage
netting for walls making it hard to see. We had a roof for some protection
from rain. And there were railings about one foot above the floor so it was
safe to sleep inside without fear of rolling out in your sleep. There was a
fifteen foot drop to the ground. Nobody patrolled the woods aside from
other kids so our place was never bothered.

The first time it happened was on the way back to the fort on our bikes. By
this time we'd goosed each other lots of times and saw each other naked in
the gym locker room. Neither of us had started puberty. Billy stopped on
the trail ahead of me to pee. Our foot path was too narrow and rocky for
riding so we usually walked them or chained them to a tree near the road.

He was in the lead. He stopped and grabbed his jeans, I figured he was
stopping to piss, but this time he turned to face me peeing on the weeds
along the trail. I watched pretending not to be watching. Billy was
watching me more than his piss stream. "Your turn," was all he said. I
trusted him that after months of clandestine touching our secret would
remain a secret, mutually assured blackmail was the risk.

In a rare moment of bravery I decided to go along and pulled mine from my
pants and did likewise. He watched with no effort to hide his
interest. While I was pissing Billy walked up and actually took my dick
with two fingers and shook it making my stream sway around like a garden
sprinkler. We didn't speak much. It actually felt nice. We both laughed but
knew things were getting more intimate.

A couple hours later I returned the favor when we were on our way home from
the fort near dinner time. Over the next couple weeks we were always
helping each other piss in the woods. In early July we did another backyard
tent camp out.

This time we had all the boards we needed so we mostly laid in the tent
talking and listening to his portable radio to XEROK 800 AM from Juarez
Mexico which came in big time at night in the burbs.

Around midnight Billy got out of his sleeping bag and stripped to his
underwear, it was rather warm in our tent, probably 80 outside. I did the
same. He was usually the instigator.

The tent was rather dark but there was some light from the street lights
and some reflecting off the clouds from the cities. It never got totally
dark outside anymore here.

Our conversation turned to dicks, sex, girls, and friends from school. Of
course our knowledge was based on what we read in the Penthouse mags he had
in his room but we both talked like we were personal advisers to Hugh
Heffner when in reality we were both virgins.

Billy pulled out his and worked himself into a boner, so I joined-in. After
a while it progressed into rubbing each other and pretending to give each
other a massage and a physical exam. By 2:30am we were both nude and laying
together rubbing our pre-puberty boners all over each other. This
pretending to be massage experts to each other continued until one of us
started puberty at age 12, which is where this story goes next.



Note: Like this story? Want to read ahead? My complete works:
wattpad.com/borischen

Comments to borischen at rocketmail dot com.