Date: Fri, 9 May 2003 18:29:50 -0700 (PDT)
From: LZ
Subject: Never Say Never, Nothing Is Forever Chapter 13

    Monday afternoon, Lester was waiting outside when I
left my after school class with Cholito.

    `Yer father wants to see you. And he's been waitin'. So
you gotta come now.'

    I had something else in mind for the last couple hours
of the afternoon. `Tell him I'll come around six.'

    Lester grabbed me by the shoulder. He was bigger than
me having grown since the previous fall but even bigger kids
knew better than to grab me by the shoulder. It could get a
guy hurt.

    `Get the fuck offa me!'

    He did. `Look, your old man's been waiting for you
since a couple hours ago an' he says it's important.'

    `Shit! Shit!' I had an inkling what it was going to be.
If I didn't go, some people were gonna start calling me
chicken, a fag. The old machismo was still there. I begged
off with Cholito and went with Lester.

    I was right. It was another burglary. Ray had already
written a note full of bullshit to my mother.

    `And what about my homework?'

    `You can do it on the way. We got a long ride ahead of
us.'

    The job was in Philadelphia but we first had to go to
Delaware to some guy's house to pick up something. We were
on the road for almost seven hours including three hours at
the house in Delaware where my biological father and the man
made plans and drawings. I did my homework there.

    In Philadelphia, we parked on the street then walked
two blocks to the back of an old office building. A building
employee let us in a fire door. On the eighth floor, we
walked down a corridor where the inside man let us into an
office. He opened a window. Ray leaned out and looked up.

    `This is as close as I can get you,' said the inside
man.

    `You said two stories, this is three.'

    `That's what I thought but they got new doors and locks
upstairs and they ain't giving us keys. We can't even get on
the floor. They got some outside outfit doing the clean up.'

     `Why can't we get up on the roof?'

     `Like a drum. No way. This's the only way.'

    "Jesus! C'mere Junior.'

    I went to the window. He lifted me up and showed me the
wall. It had decorative brickwork with ledges crossways and
large grooves up. If it had been at ground level I'd have
climbed it for fun. Up here was a different story.

    `Well, asked my biological father, `can you climb up
this? I'll put a rope on you in case you fall.'

    I started to look down. Hoolihan grabbed my chin and
kept it up. `The secret, Junior, is don't look down, just
up. There's a open window about thirty feet up, right over
us. You can do it, can't cha?'

    I was scared silly but couldn't say no after that long
trip and with five men staring at me.

    He gave me my instructions. I was to climb up and in
the window. Inside to the right, there was another office
that had a safe in it. He handed me a paper with the
combination and crude drawings of the dial and arrows
showing which way to turn it and how many times. In the safe
was a metal box full of cash. The money was dirty. They guy
couldn't complain. Once I had the box of cash, I was to pull
up the rope tied to me and put the metal box in the bag at
the end of the rope. Then he explained how I was to get back
down.

    Hoolihan already had a harness made up to fit over my
shoulders, around my chest and between my legs. I made sure
it was on right. If I fell, it would have squeezed my balls
to mush. They tied a rope to the back and I went out the
window.

    Ray patted me on the ass and said, `There's two guys on
the rope. I'll be sitting out here to catch you with two
more guys holding onto my legs. You start to fall and we got
you for sure.

    I tried to think like John Wayne or whoever it was
climbing the cliffs in that movie about World War II. then
remembered it wasn't John Wayne. I sat in the window trying
to think who.

    'C'mon, Junior, let's go,' ordered my biological
father.

    The columns were along side the windows. The ledges ran
horizontally above and below each one. The hardest part was
getting over the ledges but I'd be able to stop and rest at
each one. There were six ledges to be crossed, the last one
at the supposedly open window. My heart pumped a little
harder at the possibility the window wasn't open. Going up
was one thing. Coming back down if I couldn't get the rope
inside that window would be far more dangerous. I started
up.

    The gaps between the bricks were a brick height wide or
about three inches. That was three inches for foot and hand
grips, plenty really. I got easily to the next window ledge
and wiped my hands on my pants. Inside was lit by hall
lights. It was new and modern with furniture and walls of
different colors. Two ledges later I was over twenty feet
above where the rope came out of the window. If I fell from
here, I'd probably get knocked cold hitting a wall before
they could stop my fall. I'd be too far out for Hoolihan to
catch me. Sweat was all over me, including my hands.

    One more floor. Kenny popped into my mind. Had he ever
done something like this? It was obvious to me that I had
taken his place on jobs that needed someone small and
athletic. I was my biological father's second choice after
Kenny. Was he finding out I was better than my former lover?
Wouldn't Ray Hoolihan be pissed if he knew Kenny and I had
been sucking and fucking each other? I smiled and looked
down at my biological father, catching a glimpse of the
street far below. It snapped me back to reality.

    The dust on the bricks helped by sucking the moisture
off my fingers, giving me a better grip. I kept my body
straight up and down, bending my knees outward as I raised
each foot to the next brick, six slow inches at a time.
Light was coming out of the window that was supposed to be
open. I stopped and listened for any indication that someone
was there. Only silence. I inched up to the ledge and pulled
myself high enough to lean over and look in the window. At
first, I thought it wasn't open then realized it was all the
way open. Neat, I thought, nobody from below would ever
notice that. I climbed in.

     First, I pulled the whole length of rope in through the
window. The door to the office I needed to enter was locked
but had a glass panel. I took a heavy glass ashtray off
another desk, holding it in newspaper from the same desk to
avoid leaving fingerprints, and broke the window. It made
more noise than I expected. I waited and listened. Nothing.
Inside was the safe as described. It opened first time
thanks to the clear instructions. My little sister could
have done it. The box wasn't metal but cardboard with the
top folded cross over. Inside was a lot of money. Fifties
and hundreds in stacks secured with rubber bands, just like
in the movies. I couldn't resist. I stuck a wad of mostly
hundreds in my pants under my shirt. I wished I were wearing
underwear.

     I pulled out the bag and removed the damp rags inside.
I lowered the bag with the box full of money to the hands
below. Then I went back to the safe and wiped down where I'd
touched it, then the same at the window. I ran the rope
around a three inch heating pipe that ran floor to ceiling
and tossed the loose end back out the window. With the rags
between my hands and the window sill, I crawled back out the
window onto the ledge and tugged on the rope. I felt the end
tied to me tighten and let myself slide slowly off the sill.
They brought me down faster than I appreciated.

    In seconds I was in Hoolihan's arms. He pulled me
inside, one arm around my waist. Holding me facing the
window, he unhooked the vest, reached inside my shirt and
pulled out the money I'd hidden there. I expected a smack on
the head. None came. He didn't say a word. Quickly, he
pulled the rope until it came loose of the pipe and back
through our window. He was the last out, pushing me in
front. Nothing was left behind.

    Hoolihan acted as if nothing had gone wrong until we
were back on Forty Sixth Street two hours later. As we got
out of the car, he grabbed me and whispered in my ear with
all the venom he had in him, `You try that again and I'll
cut off a finger.'

    Inside, he was calm again. 'Here's fifty bucks. From
this,' he patted the box of cash, 'your mother's gonna get
money each month to take better care of you, buy you clothes
and shit.' He smiled and put his hands on my shoulders. 'You
did really good tonight, Junior. You're a natural like your
old man. You learn good and you'll be a kingpin one day, one
rich motherfucker.' He patted my cheeks and left. I was
pissed. The son-of-a-bitch had taken in a hundred thousand
of dollars or more and I got fifty and promises. Fuck him, I
thought, I can do better on the square and without worrying
about getting busted or falling a hundred feet. Hustlers
caught by the cops, which almost never happened, just got
taken to the station and had their parents hauled in to get
them. That and a lecture about men who killed little boys.
I'd never heard of anybody getting kidnapped or killed. A
few kids got big dicks up their ass and then didn't get paid
but even that was rare. But nobody ever got hurt bad.
Burglary, on the other hand, was a year minimum in a
reformatory and a record as a juvenile delinquent, a whole
different thing. Fuck Ray Hoolihan! Fuck Mickey Spillane!
Fuck the Westies!

    I slept naked while my clothes were washed and went to
school with three hours sleep. I was groggy before recess.
Cholito was worried I was sick. Mr. Martinson suspected I'd
been up all night, `and considering there is really nothing
good for eleven year olds to be doing in the middle of the
night, you've got me worried, young man. And this isn't the
first time. I had my doubts about the noisy neighbors story
last time. What are you into?'

    My head wasn't clear enough to come with anything
creative. `Just family stuff. No problem.' I was awake
enough to chalk this up as another reason not to get
involved in any more crime with my biological father.

    Mr. Martinson sent me home to sleep. Cholito came by in
the afternoon and told me Martinson had asked him if he knew
anything.

    'I din't tole him nothing.' I'd have hugged him but my
sisters were down the hall in our doorway watching.

    Brenda tried to stop me but, sleepy as I still was, I
had something I wanted very much to try with Cholito, my
deferred plan from the previous afternoon.

    Stopping to pick up a paint can full of water, I led my
friend to the basement.

    'I can't tell you where I learned about this but you're
gonna like it a whole lot,' I told him as we undressed.
'But, first, we gotta get really clean.'

    The ever willing Cholito let me wash his cock and balls
with the extra water I'd brought and soap I kept there as
lubricant for my nearly abandoned anal pleasure toys.
However, when I started to wash his asshole, he didn't try
to stop me but asked, 'you ain't gonna fuck me are ya?'

    'Not like that, it's different.'

    'Do I gotta do it too?'

    'Nah, only if you want like always.'

    I rinsed off the soap and pulled us down and into a
position for sixty-nine. He didn't resist or hesitate,
taking my cock in before I got to his. His warm mouth and
tongue engulfed my peter completely, tightly. He'd been
thinking about improvements. I moaned so he could hear my
pleasure from what he was doing.

    I licked his abdomen above his crotch, circled the base
of his solid long dick with my lips and tongue then sucked
in his balls. With gentle tugging, I pulled him on top of me
and pushed his knees up along side my ribs. He stopped
sucking but stayed full on me, probably concerned about what
I had in mind for him.

    I licked his perineum ball sack to rectum, thigh to
thigh. He sucked me, but tentatively. Gradually, I let my
tongue go from grazing his hole to passing over it to
slowing at the opening and pressing inward. He stopped
sucking again. I pushed the tip of my tongue inside his
pucker. Cholito didn't tighten, allowing me entry. I'd never
done this before so wasn't aware of how hard I would have to
push. For some reason, probably Bill's apparent ease of
entry, I had expected to slip right in. Cholito waited. I
relaxed my tongue then pushed in again, getting perhaps an
inch past the pucker. Cholito flattened his stomach harder
against mine. I retreated then pushed harder still, fucking
his ass in and out with my tongue. It was hard work but the
sensation of being inside him and the feeling on my tongue
of the tight fleshy muscle and soft inside was new and
delightful. Cholito sucked without moving his head.

    My tongue began aching slightly from the exertion. I
pulled my head away for a quick rest. Cholito reached back
and pulled my head back into his crack. That was nearly as
great, maybe better, than the joy of being inside him. He
liked it. I forgot the weariness of my tongue and slithered
back in, going for greater depth, wondering if I was
approaching his pleasure spot. I tightened my embrace and
tried to force more of me in. He tightened his mouth around
my cock raising my passion another notch. I locked my thighs
on his ears and started a slow mouth fuck.

    Finally, the strain on my tongue was too much to go on.
I slipped out and lifted him so I could get back to that
snakelike tool. He straightened his legs, arched to give
access and pushed full in the moment my lips were around the
tip. How I loved that great cock. I didn't have to do a
thing. While running his head up and down and back and forth
on mine, Cholito fucked my mouth fiercely. We were mere
seconds from orgasm. I went first, as usual. He followed
with one of his unique series of almost snapping throbs.
When he could cum, he would probably be able to fire his
sperm across a room.

     After holding my cock in his mouth for a few minutes,
Cholito let me go and asked, 'I don't gotta do that to you
do I?'

     'Nah. How was it?'

     'You can do that any time you want, but I don't really
wanna.'

     'Don't worry about it. Ready to go again?'

     He dropped his head down on my cock and pulled his
knees back up.

    When I phoned him Thursday evening, Bill had no problem
with Cholito coming along Saturday, or that's what he said.
He sounded okay about it. I'd know quickly enough from how
he acted once we were all together.

    Friday night mother came home from work with two
hundred fifty dollars she said my biological father had sent
her. The messenger, a white boy named Lester who told her he
knew me, said the amount would be monthly from that time on.
Mother told us she didn't believe it but sure wouldn't turn
it down if it came.

    That took the edge off the anger with my biological
father, but I was still determined not to be dragged into
any more risky burglaries.