Date: Tue, 26 Aug 2003 12:32:14 +0000
From: Guy Jameson <guyjameson@hotmail.com>
Subject: The Sons of JJ Jameson Chapter 1
THE USUAL DISCLAIMER: I don't really believe that anyone who
has found this story is going to be offended by it.
Otherwise you have no business being here in the first
place. However, with the exception of the first few
chapters, the story line may not pass the censor in some
places or for some people. This story is a fictional
account of a gay boy who grew into a man and has sons, even
though it is based on fact. Names of people are created in
the mind of this writer. Any similarity to persons living
or not is purely coincidental and there is no intention to
"out" any one.
This work is copyrigted under the terms of nifty.org
THE SONS OF JJ JAMESON
CHAPTER ONE: VICTOR'S DEFEAT
Five sons. I have five big, strong, good-looking,
sons. All of them are popular with their classmates at
school. All of them are excellent students. All of them
are gay.
"Five gay sons in one family?" people ask. "That's not
possible," they say.
Well, I'm here to tell you it is possible because
that's what I have.
My name is JJ Jameson. That's not the name I was born
with, nor the one I grew up with, but it is the name I have
chosen.
I was born April 21, 1955. My mother was a very sweet,
loving and kind woman. Her only problem was she made poor
choices when it came to men. I never knew my father;I'm not
even sure motherknew who my father was. Dad could have been
any one ofmother's beaus. Whoever, he was, he left and was
neverheard of again. At any rate, I was born with and lived
with my mother's maiden name, Robinson.
When I was thirteen mother met Barry Reingold. He was
born to a non-religious Jewish family but had married a
woman from an extremely fundamentalist Christian family. He
converted and, as is the case with many converts, he out-
fundamentaled even her. They had one son, named Victor.
Victor was approximately the same age as I, give or take a
couple of months. Barry's first wife died so Barry needed a
wife to help him raise his teen-age son. He found mother.
My first meeting with Barry was enough to tell me that
this was not the man I wanted for a dad. (Not that I
thought I had to worry very much. Mom dated lots of men.
And I assessed every one of them as possible dad material.
But first dates were usually last dates. I guess most men
didn't want a ready-made family-especially one that included
a teen-aged boy.)
Barry was not very good looking, probably ten years
older than Mom, with rather common brown hair and dark eyes.
His hair showed no style, cut medium length and pasted flat
across his head; his side burns stopped at the top of his
ears. He reminded me of some of the evangelistic preachers
who worked out of a tent and promised not only salvation
from sin but healing of the body. He had the look of a
shyster if I'd ever seen it.
The way a man looked was important to me. I'd noticed
over the last couple of years that I looked at lots of men.
Many of those men took a good look at me too, the kind of
look that some of my friends said made them feel
uncomfortable-long stares that started at my face, then
trailed down my body. The stares stopped at the bulge in
the crotch of my tight jeans before the man would break eye
contact and walk on. When I looked back at them, these men
licked their lips as they walked past me.
Barry was tall-just a little over six feet but very
thin. An Oklahoma wind could blow him over easily if it
could have found enough substance to blow against. He could
have stood behind a tree side ways and been completely
hidden. And I'm not talking big tree, either. It wouldn't
have taken much more than a sapling.
So this man did not impress me. But Mom seemed to like
him. And he came back for a second date-and then a third.
"Hi, JJ. Is your mother ready?"
"Almost. She said she'd be down in a minute. But you
know Mom, she wants to look her best and her minutes don't
just have sixty seconds. Have a seat, won't you?"
I know that was pretty corny but, Barry had never
laughed at any of my jokes. I thought I was a card and
should be on the Uncle Milty Show or something. He didn't
even smile.
Nope, I thought. This guy is definitely not dad
material.
I didn't know much about Barry. Mom didn't discuss him
except to say she had a good time with him and liked the
man. I couldn't tell what she saw in the guy.
When Mom returned from her third date with Barry, I was
still up. It was a Friday night and I thought there was
nothing pressing for Saturday so I had decided to stay up to
watch TV. Friday nights were pretty good TV nights if a boy
didn't have any friends to run around with. And I didn't.
Most of the kids with whom I attended school were not
allowed to associate with me socially. I was an outcast, a
bastard, and a boy with neither background nor morals.
Was it my fault that Mom had fucked some guy and wasn't
careful enough to use protection? NO! I couldn't figure it.
But that's the way it was.
Mom came home later than usual.
"Hi JJ. I'm glad you're still up. I have the best
news," she said without a lot of enthusiasm.
The best news? Mom sure doesn't sound like it. But
maybe she's tired, I thought.
Before I could respond, she said, "Barry has asked me
to marry him as soon as possible. We're going on a family
picnic tomorrow so you can meet your new brother."
"Mom," I whined. "How can you marry this guy. He's a
dork. Just look at him, he's not your type of guy at all.
He doesn't know how to dress and his hair looks like it
hasn't been washed in month. You can't marry this guy. And
he has a son? He's probably a carbon copy of his dad. What
do you really know about this guy? Have you even met his
son? Aren't I enough sons for you?"
"Of course you are JJ. That's just it. You're more
son than I can handle. I don't know anything about young
boys and you need a father. I agree Barry's not the best
catch on the playground but no one else is playing. He's
the only chance I have to give you a dad and he can make me
happy. Besides we'll meet Victor tomorrow. I just know
you're going to love having a brother."
Mom tried to hug me, but I shrugged her off. I knew
she needed comforting and a happy face from me, but I wasn't
in the mood. I stormed back to my room and slammed the
door.
Now Mom's not a bad looking woman-no Marilyn, but not
bad. Why would a man ten years older than she is, want to
marry her? She is a nurse. Maybe he's sick and needs
someone to take care of him. He certainly looks sick, but
not sick enough to take me on as part of the marriage
bargain. Barry is too old to worry about being drafted for
the War. So why does he want to get married?
I finally drifted off to sleep, wondering what it would
be like having a father . . . and a brother.
My bedroom faces east with a large window that allows
the sun to shine directly onto my face as it rises,
especially in the spring. Normally I shut the curtains over
the window on Friday nights so I'm able to sleep on
Saturday, but I forgot last night. The sun shone directly
into my eyes forcing me awake.
Oh, well, I think. It's probably just as well. I can
hear my mom moving around in her room. Mom probably has a
shit pile of stuff for me to do today.
I lay back onto my pillows examining my morning hard
on. The picture of Tom Matthews came to mind. We're not
really friends but we are in the same gym class. I've seen
him naked almost every day for this school year. He is an
Adonis-but with hair. In fact he and I have more body hair
than any of the other boys in our class. Tom is blond, tall
and has the body of an athlete. Even at thirteen, he has
defined pecs and the beginning of a washboard stomach. He
is hot!
As I stroked myself, I remembered the body lotion I
"borrowed" from Mom's bathroom and tried to decide whether I
wanted to use it or give myself a dry hand fuck. The
natural lube began to form in the rose of my uncut cock. I
smeared it around over my dick as I continued stroking.
This will do just fine, I think and continued to leisurely
jack my cock.
`Sheeeit." I hear the door bell ring, followed by an
impatient knock. The picnic! That dork is bringing his kid
over to go on a get acquainted picnic. It's only 9:00 in
the morning! Who ever heard of starting a picnic at 9:00 on
a fucking Saturday morning. Dork head, that's who.
"JJ, if you're up, will you get the door for me. I'm
not ready yet."
She's not ready? I'm up, but I'm not out of bed yet.
I chuckle at my own joke. See? I am funny. It's got to
be her boy friend and his son. Let her get the door. I'm
busy. I continued to stroke, but somehow it wasn't fun
anymore. I have reached coitus interuptus, I think. If
that happens very much my balls will burst.
The bell rang again.
"JJ get the door!"
"Mom, I'm not dressed either."
"Just put on your robe. But answer the door."
I got out of bed and started to pick up my briefs from
the floor where I had tossed them. I'm naked. I always
sleep naked, well always since I was ten.
I ought to just go to the door like this, I think,
looking down at the rod sticking out from my pubic hair.
That should scare them away and they'll never come back.
Naw Mom would just cry. And I sure don't want that AGAIN!'
My dick deflates and I decide to compromise on my door
answering attire. I just slip my robe over my naked body.
"Good Morning, Mr. Reingold. Mom's not ready AGAIN," I
say answering the door. See? I'm also polite-even to
people I don't like.
"Good Morning, JJ. I guess we are a little early, but
I couldn't wait to see your mother and have you meet my son.
Victor, this is JJ."
Jesus H. Christ! His son is Victor Reingold! I know
Victor. He's the biggest Bible thumper at school-also the
most unpopular boy in the world, always preaching about the
wages of sin at the daily flag pole meetings. And this is
going to be my brother! Goddamn Fucking Shit.
"I'm glad to meet you, Victor." Hey, I said it with
a smile. "I've seen you at school but we don't have any
classes together."
'Yeah, I've seen you,' I think. 'But I've never looked
at you until now. And you are HOT!' It could have been just
my horned up state of mind.
"Hi JJ. I've seen you too. You never come to the flag
pole."
"Uh, no. I don't get to school early enough for that,"
I lied. I was always at school early-for the breakfast.
I let my future step relatives in the house and closed
the door. Butter would not melt in mouth. I never knew
what that meant until just now. But I know it wouldn't,
anyway.
"Excuse me, I need to get dressed."
I headed down the hall to my room, entered, shut the
door and threw my robe onto the unmade bed. As I was
getting some clean clothes out of my drawers, the door
opened and Victor walked in.
"Hey, dude, I'm naked here. Can't you wait a few
minutes?"
"Sorry, JJ. Dad told me to come on down here. I guess
we're going to be brothers now and share this room."
Victor is looking over my head at the ceiling. 'Hey,
I'm not dog meat. I'm a pretty stud looking guy. I have
hair on my chest and a four-inch dick when it's soft and
this boy won't even cop a peek at me. Great! Under the
same circumstances I'd at least peak. Then, if I didn't
like what I saw, I'd look at the ceiling.'
Mom had made the concession to my "teen-age modesty" by
giving me the bedroom with an adjoining bath. I needed a
shower before beginning to get to know my new daddy and
brother. I walked into the bathroom, purposely leaving the
door open and stepped into the shower. The shower door
wasn't clear glass, but I could see the sun light through
the door from my bedroom. There was a boy shaped shadow in
the doorway to my room, looking in.
As I was finishing my shower and pulling my dick sleeve
back to wash it, the figure was still there. I gave myself
a couple of strokes until I was at least semi-hard and left
the shower. Dick-head-oops, sorry, Victor was sitting on my
bed as I entered the room. His head was about the same
level as my cock. He definitely scoped me out this time. I
turned my back to him to pull on my shorts-leaving off the
underwear. If I was going on a picnic with this dipstick, I
was at least going to be comfortable. I was facing my
dresser mirror and could see him sneaking a peek at my ass.
What is it with this guy? I asked myself.
"Ready," I said, pulling a shirt over my head.
"You're not wearing underwear?"
"Hey, you noticed. Nope, it's too hot to wear
underwear today. I have to let my balls breath."
"You have a dirty mouth."
"Hey, man. You're going to be living with me. Get
used to it."
The picnic was held at their church. Boring. Nothing
to do. There were a few guys from school but as usual they
treated me as if I didn't exist. They were all Victor's
friends. Finally, it was over and Barry took Mom and me
back to the house.
"Well, JJ. Did you and Victor get to know each other?"
"Yes, Mom. We did."
"What do you think of him?"
"Not much. Is he really going to be my brother?"
"Yes dear, and Barry will be your father. Please,
don't, don't mess this up for me. I need a husband and you
need a father. You're becoming way too wild and I can't
handle you alone anymore. Besides, Barry is a sweet loving
man and he makes me happy."
The engagement was short-three months, in fact. But
during that time I noticed some definite changes in my
mother. She would come home from the hospital, tired as
usual; she'd call a "hello" to me as usual; she'd fix dinner
as usual; but now she had a smile on her face. I'd catch
her staring out the kitchen window, staring but not seeing,
lost in her thoughts. Mom had never sung before. But now
she sang or hummed old tunes, the kind of tunes one hears
only on the "oldies" radio stations. Sometimes she sang
songs I had never heard before. The kind I guessed they
sang at Barry's church. Her songs seemed to remind her
of times long ago when she was also happy.
More importantly, Mom was not angry like she used to
be. Though I knew she loved me and showed it with frequent
hugs and kisses, she would also become so angry at me that
she'd beat me with a belt or a ruler, or anything else she
could lay her hands on. I didn't understand her anger. It
didn't always seem to be associated with what I had done
that was wrong or naughty, more like she was frustrated and
took her frustration out on me. But since Barry came on the
scene, she was a lot more patient and never got angry.
One afternoon, she was staring out the kitchen window.
I asked her, "Mom, you really do love this guy, don't you?"
"Yes, JJ. I do. He makes me feel very special, not at
all like any of the men I've known. Barry is not just after
sex. All he's ever done is kiss me. But such passion in
those kisses. You can tell a lot about a person from the
way he kisses. He takes me to church with him . . ."
"Mom we've never gone to church before. Why do you go
with him?"
"Because he wants to take me. He introduces me to his
friends. Can you imagine, JJ, how it feels to go out with
someone and he is so ashamed of you that he won't introduce
you to people he knows? It makes you feel cheap, worthless.
Barry is proud to be seen with me even among his closest
friends."
"But, Mom, Barry's a Bible thumper. His kid is the
biggest Bible thumper at school-always preaching about how
God is going to damn the sinners. How can Barry be so
different?"
"Barry says God has forgiven my past, just as he has
done. He calls me his Mary Magdalene," she said laughing.
"Mary was a whore, JJ. Jesus protected her and loved her.
She was one of the first women who visited Jesus' grave
after his death. Barry says my past is in my past. It
isn't important anymore . . . And he says he loves me. No
man, even your father, ever told me he loves me."
Mom became lost in her thoughts as I left the kitchen.
How dare that man compare my mother to a whore? Mom's not
like that. She has a lot of boy friends, but she's no
whore. I hated Barry Reingold then more than I had before.
Maybe that is why Barry wants to marry Mom. She is his
Mary. She is a trophy to show off at his church, to prove
how forgiving he can be.
Barry Reingold married my Mom. She was happier that
day than I had ever seen her. Victor Reingold, God's
avenging teenaged angel, became my brother and just as he
had predicted, Victor moved into my room.
That night he and I began to get ready for bed. We
talked briefly about the wedding and our parents.
"JJ, you aren't very happy about this wedding are you?"
"No, I'm not. Mom says that Barry makes her happy and
makes her feel loved, so that part of it is OK. But . . ."
"But, what?"
"Your Dad doesn't like me."
"Have you given him a chance to like you? You refuse
to go to church. You don't act as if you're happy about him
marrying your mom and you certainly don't act like you like
me. How do you expect him to act?"
"Well, it was kind of sudden . . . dating my Mom and
then marrying her. Now I guess he's going to start acting
all fatherly and tell me what to do all the time. And you?
You're too much of a Bible thumper for me. Why don't you
chill out, man? Why do you have to be the way you are?"
"JJ, why do you have to be the way you are? You have
the reputation of being a wild kid. Listen to Dad. He'll
help you find your way."
"Sheeeit, man. I'm not lost. I don't need him or
anyone else to find my way."
I lay down on the bed as if to go to sleep.
"JJ aren't you going to put on pajamas?"
"What for? I always sleep naked."
Victor said nothing, but little wisps of smoke emerged
from his ears. He'd dressed himself in pajamas, top and
bottom, AND underwear, top and bottom.
"Sheeeit, Victor. You're going to suffocate in all
those clothes. How can you sleep all bunched up that way?"
"It helps protect me from sinning."
"How can you sin when you're asleep?"
"It helps reduce evil temptations of the flesh."
"You mean like jacking off, or something?"
"Yes. Handling that part of your body is a sin. We
have to keep our bodies and our minds pure for the Lord."
"Jesus H. Christ! Next you're going to tell me you
wear a chastity belt."
Victor looked at me sternly. I guess it was supposed
to be a warning against using the Lord's name in vain or
something.
"I don't know what a chastity belt is. But I don't do
sinful stuff to my body, so I'm sure I don't need one."
I laughed softly, mocking this boy's self-righteous
attitude and his ignorance.
"They used chastity belts a long time ago when a man
was away from home-like on Crusade or something. It was
made of metal and was locked to the woman's waist. There
were teeth of steel over her cunt so she could pee and bleed
but a man couldn't put his dick in her. Since you're living
in my house now, you may need one."
"JJ you are disgusting. You're a sinner and you're
going to hell."
"You may be right you self-righteous prick, but I'm
going to enjoy the trip. Now shut up. I'm going to sin for
a while before I go to sleep and I don't want you disturbing
me."
It felt good to stick it to Victor. Everyone in this
fucking town has pissed on me all my life. It feels good to
be the pisser, instead of the pissee.
Victor got into bed, pulled the covers up around his
shoulders and turned on his side away from.
'I guess I'm a lost cause,' I think.
"Hey Vicki, Why don't you take gym class?"
Speaking toward the other side of the room, Victor
says, "Gym classes glorify the body. It's a place of
degradation of the soul. What happens to my soul is too
important to me to indulge in such activities."
I was lying on top of my blankets, naked and beginning
to pleasure myself. My dick was hard and a pearl of fluid
formed at the tip of my foreskin.
I didn't speak much above a whisper because I knew the
walls of my room didn't cut out all the sound. On more than
one occasion, I'd heard my mother's boy friends moaning
loudly in the night.
"Victor, I'm going to tell you what happens in the
locker room after class. You talk about sin. That's where
sin takes place. Especially in the showers!"
"I don't want to hear that. It's sinful and
disgusting. If you're going to abuse yourself, do it
quietly."
"It's too late, Vicki. I've already begun the abuse.
Picture this in your mind if you want to, but don't say
another fucking word. You hear me? Not another word.
In the shower all the guys are naked, showing off their
stuff. Some of them even begin to play with their dicks to
make them look bigger. I'm standing in one corner where I
can see all those gorgeous naked male bodies. I'm cleaning
my dick, pulling the skin back to clean under it, watching
all the other boys soap themselves up. Tom Matthews is
there. He is such a gorgeous hunk of a boy. Tom's body is
hard because he glories in making it look good. Victor, my
dick is hard. And I'm stroking it. Pulling the skin over
the head of my dick. Spreading the lube all over my cock.
Tom is watching me and starting to do the same. He's
soaping himself. Then he drops the soap and bends over to
get it."
Victor has covered his head with his pillow, so I
whisper a little louder.
"Tom's hairy man-pussy is pointing straight into the
face of the guy next to him. That poor boy shoots his load
right then. I'm pulling on my balls, now Victor. It hurts
like hell but it's such a good hurt. I twist my nuts inside
their sac. I'm getting close to shooting my load, Victor."
The rate of Victor's breathing has quickened. He's
breathing harder. In spite of the pillow covering his ears,
he can still hear what I'm saying and he's enjoying my story
in spite of himself.
"It's going to feel so good when I do it. Vic, you
cannot imagine how good it feels to have your spunk shoot
out of your cock. That's what all the boys in the shower
want to have happen. They want to cum, Victor. The boy
next to Tom leaves and I move under that showerhead.
Victor, Tom is so beautiful. I can't help myself I kneel in
front of him. I pay homage to that Cock. I worship his
Cock. His big beautiful cock is my god. It's cut, Victor.
He's the only boy in the class with a bigger dick than mine
is. It's full of cum, just ready to shoot. The veins are
like rubber tubes running from its stalk to the pretty pink
head. He sticks it in my mouth; Victor, and I suck on it
like a baby sucks his mother's tits. And his milk spews
into my mouth."
Victor's body is shifting uncomfortably under his
blankets. I can't see what he's doing, but I know that
either he's jacking off or he's going to have one hell of a
wet dream before morning.
"Victor I'm almost there. I'm about to cum Victor. If
you turn over you can see me shoot cream all over my body.
It feels so good."
My voice is guttural as I scream out my orgasm. I wash
my fingers with my tongue.
"MMMm, That tastes so good. Have you ever tasted your
cum, Victor? Of course not. You don't have cum do you. If
you shot anything, it would be communion wine."
Victor turns his head towards me. His voice is hardly
audible and the words are difficult for him to form because
his breath keeps catching. "Are . . . Are . . . Are you
through? That . . .was the most disgusting thing I have
ever heard. You are . . . disgusting. You are disgusting
and . . . depraved. There's no question you'll go to
hell."
"You're so right Victor. I am all those things but you
enjoyed it. I saw you watching me in the shower the day of
the picnic. I'll bet you had an orgasm just watching me
then and listening to me now. You'd like to have that
happen to you wouldn't you, you prick head. You'd love to
stroke your dick and cum. Or maybe you'd like me to suck
it. But you're too late. I'm going to sleep."
I turned over on my side and soon fell asleep. It
feels good to be the pisser.
Sometime during the night, I was awakened by noises from
Victor's side of the room. I listen for a minute not quite
believing my ears. Victor is sobbing. No he's crying,
trying to be quiet about it but he is definitely crying. As
he cries, I hear my name repeated several times.
Now I'm not a bad guy. I purposely developed a shell
around myself to lessen the ridicule and hurt from other
people. I tried to present the persona of a tough. But I'm
an excellent student and I'm not the kind of boy that others
see. I hardly ever use the language I used with Victor last
night. And I didn't want to make him cry. I hate it when
people cry. I know how it feels to be pissed on and I've
cried myself to sleep many nights because of it. Last night
he pissed me off and I had to get back at him. But to make
him cry? I slide off my bed and go over to him.
Yeup, he's crying all right. I am a shit head. I have
no right to make this boy cry.
I reach over to Victor and place one hand on his
shoulder.
"Hey, Victor. Are you OK? Hey man, if I said or did
anything to make you cry, I apologize."
"I'm not crying."
"OK, then what are you doing? I said I'm sorry."
Victor rolled over to face me. In the glow of the
night-light I could see his eyes. They are red and blood-
shot. He's definitely been crying.
Again Victor can hardly get the words out. "Look at
me. I sinned during the night. God is punishing me. I'm
all wet."
I looked at Victor's pajamas. There was an
unmistakable wet spot that had soaked through his underwear
and pajamas. The outline of a cock that has been hard was
still obvious. It's a great looking cock.
"Victor let me see. You might have hurt yourself."
Surprisingly Victor pulls down the front of his
sleeping clothes. There is a big glob of cum starting to
roll down his stomach. It's all I can do to keep from
licking him clean.
"Man, you've had a wet dream. That's all. Don't you
know what a wet dream is?"
"No"
I pointed at the spot on his stomach and then I noticed
another spot on his sheets.
"That is a wet dream and you had a good one. Must have
been my story last night."
"I didn't touch myself. I didn't do any of the stuff
you did last night and I still have lost my seed."
"Man, that is what happens when you don't jack off or
fuck. Your balls get so much cum in them, it has to come
out some way. When it happens at night, you have a wet
dream. It's nothing to be ashamed of. It happens to all
boys."
"Does it happen to you?
"Yeah, once. But I jack off at least twice a day. I
never have wet dreams any more."
"Then I didn't abuse my body?"
"Hell no. It's what happens. Hasn't your dad ever
explained that stuff to you?"
"No."
Victor's crying has begun to subside and he obviously
wants to talk. I want to go to sleep.
"JJ, I've always wanted a brother. When Dad decided to
marry again and I met you, I thought we would be good for
each other. I wanted to be your friend. But you spoiled
it. You . . . You . . . You spoiled it. You won't be my
friend and it's worse than having no brother at all." He
starts to cry again.
"Victor, I'm sorry. I didn't want to make you cry.
People have picked on me all my life because I'm a bastard.
They don't talk to me at school. They won't come to my
house and it's not my fault. Last night I was pissed off
and I took it out on you. I'm sorry. I thought it was fun
to pick on someone else for a change."
I tried to take Victor in my arms and hold him. But he
pushed me away.
"Hey man, I'm not trying to rape you. I just want to
make up for making you cry. Let me hold you."
"But it's so wrong for men to hug like that."
"Man, you're pissing me off again. I'm trying to be
nice. Hugging your brother is not wrong. Let me hold you."
Victor relaxed a little bit and allowed me to take him
in my arms. He put his head on my shoulders. The sobbing
and crying stopped.
I held Victor like that, kneeling beside his bed, his
head on my shoulder for what seemed to be an hour at least.
It probably wasn't that long. But he was quiet and it felt
good to hold a brother.
I may be getting to like this guy, in spite of myself.
The alarm clock went off way too early the next
morning. I reached over and hit the button to stop its
buzzing. Victor was still asleep. I have no idea how he
could be. That clock was designed to wake the dead.
Walking over to Victor's bed I shook his shoulder. Funny he
wasn't wearing his pj top anymore.
"Victor, wake up. We have school today. Wake up."
"Is it morning already?"
"Yes, now get up. I can smell breakfast."
Today was the first day of school that I had a brother.
I wasn't sure what to make of him yet. Sometimes he was
such a jerk and so damned sure of himself. And then he'd be
an all right guy. Very vulnerable. Maybe even likable. I
didn't see Victor all day, but that wasn't unusual. I
rarely saw him or at least paid any attention to him at
school before now anyway.
So the day went on as a normal day. No one talked to
me. I didn't talk to anybody. I was the invisible boy.
Until gym class.
My being a bastard never counted for much in gym. I
was a good athlete and played games better than average. I
guess it was a way for me to release my anger. When it came
time for team captains to pick their players, I was always
among the first chosen.
But today Tom Matthews was one of the captains. He
always chose me first, especially for soccer. But not
today. The two boys began to pick their teams.
What's going on here? They've picked practically every
boy in the class and I'm still standing here, waiting?
Something's not right.
Finally both teams were full and I was standing alone.
Coach had to assign me to a team. Only the dorkiest of the
dorks get assigned to a team. Coach put me on Tom's team.
Class was horrible. I tried to play the game, but no
one even saw me on the field. The ball was never passed to
me. I would be in position to score and shout out, but it's
like I'm invisible.
We went to the showers. I took my usual place at the
corner showerhead, began to soap myself and take a furtive
glance around me.
Yeup same group of dicks, swinging as they get washed
up. I turned my back to the crowd and begin to wash my
pubes.
"Hey, Faggot."
I glanced around.
"Yeah, You, Faggot. What are you looking at?" It's
Tom yelling at me.
I didn't answer. This was one abuse I've never
suffered before.
"Faggot, I've caught you staring at me and I'm tired of
it. You take another look at my meat and I'm going to pull
your balls off and shove them up your ass. Got that,
Faggot?"
Without even rinsing the soap from my body, I ran out
of the shower to my locker. I put my clothes on over my
still wet body and escaped from the locker room.
'What just happened?' I asked myself. 'Gym class is the
one place I thought I almost had a friend. Victor! Somehow
Victor told Tom what I did last night. That self-righteous
hypocrite told Tom about my fantasy. I'll get that fucker
if it's the last thing I do.'
I ran all the way home, walked straight to my room and
slammed the door. No one was home yet so my scene went
unnoticed. I fell on my bed and began to cry, pounding my
pillow with my fists, sobbing out tears like a broken dam.
'Damn Victor. Just wait until he gets home. I'm going
to beat him to a bloody pulp!'
I was still crying when Victor walked into the bedroom.
"Hey brother," he began.
Before he could say another word I was on him. I
grabbed his shirt at the throat and tackled him to the
ground. Victor is bigger than I am, not a lot bigger-maybe
fifteen pounds. Unlike his father he actually has a
physique. I was lying on top of his sprawled body, fist
ready to pound his face. My other arm held him down at the
neck.
"What's wrong, JJ? What are you doing? You're crazy,
man."
"Why did you tell? Tom Matthews of all people. He was
the one guy who treated me like a human being and you told
him about me. You're a dirty, no good, son-of-a-bitch. You
don't want a brother. You've made me the punching bag for
the whole school."
"JJ! I can't . . . breathe."
"Good I hope you never breath again."
I pressed my forearm harder into his throat, choking
him. Victor began to cough and tried to fight me off of
him. His eyes began to bug out, from fear? He really
couldn't breath. Suddenly he sucker punched me in the side
and kneed me in the nuts.
"AAACH! You Son-of-a-bitch. You . . . Dirty Son-of-a-
bitch!" I get out as Victor took the advantage and rolled on
top of me.
I was in pain. Victor may be holier than me, but he
sure knew how to fight dirty. Maybe there was an angel
helping him. I stared up at his contorted face. I could
hardly breath, now.
"JJ, I don't know what you think I've done but I didn't
do it. I don't ever talk to Tom Matthews. None of my
friends talk to Tom Matthews. I couldn't have told him
anything even if I'd wanted to, which I didn't. I didn't
tell anyone about anything."
My nuts still hurt, but the pain was starting to go
away, to be replaced by the feeling of blood moving into my
dick. Victor was lying on top of me, groin to groin and my
randy cock was getting hard. 'I can't believe this,' I think.
"JJ, I'm going to get off of you now. But if you try
to hit me again I'll kick you so hard you're grandchildren
will feel it. Do you hear me?"
My pain has gone away and I began to cry-big sobs made
my whole body shake. Tears were streaming down my face.
I nodded my head, "Just get off of me. I'll not try to
hurt you again. I don't want to have anything to do with
you at all. Just get off of me!"
Victor rolled off me.
"Do you want to tell me what happened?"
"No!"
"JJ, talk to me. You made me talk to you last night.
Now it's your turn."
I've never had anyone to talk to before. I've never
told mother how the kids at school just ignored my
existence. But can I trust this Bible Thumper? What's
happened to him? He hasn't used the sin word once! What's
going on here?
"JJ, I know you're not going to believe me. But last
night gave me a different perspective. I still believe what
you do is wrong, but hey, we're brothers now. We're going
to have to get along. Dad told me you are a difficult case,
but I really do like you. I want to be your brother and
your friend."
We were lying on the floor. I haven't moved, not
believing Victor's words. But I wanted to. I wanted to
very much.
We calmed down by the time our parents got home. But
when Victor went to greet his dad, I stayed in the bedroom.
I could hear mother in the kitchen beginning to get dinner
ready. She was humming.
Before we ate Barry said a very long prayer of
thanksgiving and asked for God's blessing on the food. 'Hey,
Mom's cooking may not be the best but it's not that bad.'
The meal was eaten with very little conversation.
After dinner, Victor and I went to "our" room to do
homework.
'Do I have to do this tonight? I can't go back to
school tomorrow. Not after what happened.'
"JJ, Do you want to tell me what happened today-with
Tom Matthews?"
"He started calling me names in the showers. Called me
Faggot and accused me of staring at his dick."
"You were, weren't you?"
"Were what?"
"Staring at him. Judging from what you said last
night, I'd say you probably stare at him a lot."
"Yeah, I guess I do. But that was all jack off
fantasy. None of it was real."
"It sure sounded real to me. But then I've never done
any of that kind of stuff. So how would I know?"
We sat silently for a few minutes. Victor finished his
work. I haven't even started mine. That's not like me. I
always do my homework. Being an outcast, what else did I
have to do?
"Aren't you going to do your homework?"
"What! Now you're going to start preaching at me about
homework?"
"No, of course not. I'm not going to preach at you
about anything, anymore. I'll pray for you but I won't
preach." He chuckled.
'How about that? The Bible thumper knows how to crack a
joke.'
"I'm going to bed. Good night."
"Good night, JJ. Tomorrow will be a better day."
I turned over to my side and fell into a troubled
sleep. That's probably because I didn't jack off thinking
about Tom Matthews.