Date: Tue, 22 Jan 2002 22:08:24 +0000
From: Java Biscuit <javabiscuit@hotmail.com>
Subject: Back to the Playground, 3

This is a story involving boy/boy, teen/boy, male/male
graphic sex and not intended for reading by minors. If
you are underage, or this type of material is illegal where
you live, please stop now, and go read something else!

This is a completely fantasized story meant only for the
purpose of pleasurable reading. It explores themes which
some readers may find offensive or disturbing. It's not
meant to encourage unsafe, unprotected sex, or to
condone sex with minors. I do not claim that any of the
events depicted actually happened. In fact, these people
are figments of my imagination.

Feedback: javabiscuit@hotmail.com


Back to the Playground ~ chapter three

by Biscuit


When my shrink decided it was time to talk about
sex, I didn't say a word about Josh and Lauren and
the whole thing with the club. Didn't talk about Skyler
either. What would I say? I'm hot for this seven year
old kid who lives down the hall?

Once Skyler had washed himself up, the day of the
pissing prisoner game -- granted, with me watching
him, kind of casual, but still, I didn't walk away -- I
wrapped him up in one of Helen's big fluffy towels
and we hit the couch to watch TV while his clothes
were in the wash.

Summertime, but in the apartment it got cold from
the air conditioning. I hate that. Sometimes I'd go
out just to warm up, not even bothering to take a jay
with me.

I stretched out on the couch in the TV room, as
Helen called it, could be called a den or family room,
though I'm the only family they've got. Helen didn't
believe in having a TV in the living room. One of the
few bits of arguments I heard between her and my
brother. Anyway, it was chilly in there and Skyler
was drawn to me like a heat seeking missile. Hugging
himself in the towel he sat his butt down next to my
hip, not even pretending to look at the TV.

"You think I'm a baby because of what I did?" he
said, with the air of a challenge.

"Nah, I don't think you're a baby," I told him, not
bothering to say what I did think of him; adorable,
irresistible, sexy little faggot. The last part, I think
I can probably chalk up to that projection thing.

"You carried me like a baby."

Did I? Did it bug him?

"Sorry." He shrugged, giving me a stuck out bottom
lip look, not so much a pout, like he was thinking.

"It's okay. I mean I know you did it to cover for me."
His leg started swinging a little, banging his heel on
the bottom of the couch. "I'm not a baby. You're not
so much older than me." Oh, Jesus. Was this going to
be the part where he asked me to be his girlfriend?

"Two times you plus another year," I said firmly.

"My brother's older than you are," he countered.

"So."

"So, you're not so old." When I was his age I
thought kids three years older than me were
practically grown ups. He was bluffing his way to
something.

"Okay, so I'm not so old, what of it?"

"I don't know." He looked me over without looking
up at my face, then over at the TV, but he was only
pretending to watch it. "My mom told my brother
he should be nice to you, cause you're sick."

Oh God. I could just imagine Helen chatting with
her neighbors, wringing out the sympathy. What
the fuck did she tell people?

What was there to tell? How they'd run out of
special schools to send me to, how I'd got a nasty
coke habit at fourteen. I was over that, at least. Pot
didn't count as far as I was concerned. Did she tell
people I'm gay? That I got picked up for trying to
turn tricks?

Skyler was looking at me again, now right at my
face.

"You seem okay to me," he said. God bless him. I
felt myself break a grin and his matched it. Then he
all of a sudden launched himself at me, in the bundle
of towel and the little fucker was solid enough to
almost knock the wind out, landing on my chest, but
I caught him.

I knew he was grinding his dick into me, I knew
he'd got himself parked right on my hard cock and
was humping me as sure as I'd ridden a stuffed dog
with the same spread kneed technique. So, call me
Tiger. I let him get whatever he could through all
that toweling and my pants, and when he was done,
I let him rest for a while. Then I got his clothes and
he got dressed, and I sent him home so I could jerk
off.

And did I think about Skyler while I was doing it?
Oh yes. In my mind I had him greased up like Josh
did me and I was blowing my load all over his ass.

Then I slunk under the covers of my bed with the
shades drawn and cried. God only knows why,
nothing and everything.

Somewhere along the line I got up and went to the
bathroom and started going through all the junk in
the medicine cabinet looking for pills. Any kind of
pills. God knows they didn't have anything much of
interest. I think I took a handful of cold pills,
aspirin, something Helen had for cramps and went
back to bed to see if it would kill me or put me to
sleep.

When I woke up, my brother Karl was there, in
the dark bedroom, asking me if I wanted dinner. I
felt like shit but felt sorry for my brother, standing
over the bed looking down at me, looking confused.

"Yeah, I'll come eat something," I told him, trying
to sit up, even though my guts were telling me I'd
bring up anything I tried to put in my stomach. I
was dizzy and groggy.

"Charlotte, from down the hall came by," he said.
My mind ran to Skyler, the only down the hall
reference I had. The sick feeling in my gut got
worse.

"Yeah?" I said.

"She said to tell you thanks. Her son told her you
helped him out when some kids were picking on
him out in the playground." Karl gave me a kind
of smile. Jesus, Skyler, I thought, you're as big a
liar as I used to be.

If only I had rescued him, instead of letting them
do what they did and then taking advantage of him
after it was done. Still, it made me feel good to think
that he'd tried to make me look like something other
than sick, to his mom. Had I done anything good?
Had I done something bad? If I had, at least Skyler
didn't think so. Pretty pathetic to pin your self image
on the good graces of a seven year old you wish you
could nail.

But I felt a tiny bit more like part of the human race
and I dragged my ass out of bed and got up to face
the chill of the apartment and my sister in law.

So I didn't tell my shrink about Skyler. I told him
about other stuff. I'm not exactly proud of this
thing about Skyler or the junk I did when I was
little. I know talking to your shrink isn't supposed
to be about what you're proud of. I'll get around to
it, I guess.

I talked to him about Joe, my sister's boyfriend that
I ended up fucking. What a mess that was. Boy, was
she glad to see the last of me. She lives down in
Brooklyn and took me after my brother Greg had
his fill of me out in California. Didn't take long for
that. He was the first one to take me in after our
mom died. When I was ten. It seemed to make some
sense, I guess, since she and I were living out near
him in Oakland. He was sort of her favorite kid and
she wanted to be near him after my dad died. Greg's
a big fag, like me, or maybe not quite like me. He's
the straightest kind of gay guy you'll ever meet. It
wasn't such a great idea for him to try to take care
of me. His lover Marvin wasn't happy with it from
the start.

I started having a bad time of it out there. Sneaking
out of school, getting into trouble. Greg and Marvin
weren't ready to deal with a kid. I was with them for
a couple of years before my sister, who's a teacher,
said, send me to her. She was still married then, but
it was getting shaky. I like my sister fine. Things
were okay with us, but school stuff was bad. I just
didn't want to be there. She must have tried me at
ten different schools in the three years I lived there.
She knew a lot of people with different school
programs and kept thinking she'd find the right
wacko kind of school thing to fit me. Meantime
things were getting worse for her and her husband.
Then the coke came along and I thought I'd found
a perfect life.

Every guy I picked up seemed to have it and be
happy to get me high. Then it was guys I didn't want
to pick up, but did stuff with them anyway to either
get some or they'd slip me some money and I could
buy it. I didn't think of it as turning tricks, but the
cop I came on to did. That freaked her out, big time.
She got me into the rehab outpatient thing and found
my psychiatrist. Then she found me with her
boyfriend Todd, and that was it. The next day Karl
showed up to get me and my stuff.

God, the two of us cried, me and her. She told me
she didn't blame me for the thing with Todd, but
she needed a break, needed to be on her own for
awhile and sort things out.

My sister Lisa is a kind, smart, beautiful woman,
and I feel like shit for what I put her through. The
Todd thing, God. I didn't set out to do anything
with him. The first time it happened, he came in
my room after she left for work and sat on the bed
to talk to me.

Mr. Macho. A buff guy. Good looking, straight, or
so he claimed. He was wearing a pair of pajama
bottoms with the fly part of them half unsnapped.
Of course I looked. Who wouldn't if somebody sat
down and bent their knee like he did, gaping the
front of them wide open, practically.

"You checking me out?" he asked with a big grin,
like he thought it was pretty funny.

"Sure looks like you want me to," I said. Another
laugh, but not so amused. That must not have been
the line he was expecting.

"I'm a straight arrow kid, always have been, always
will be." Yeah, check's in the mail, whatever. He
was getting a boner and I was checking it out. This
was the part I'm sure he planned, where I'd look
at his dick and he'd tell me how, if ever did think
about doing something with a guy, it would be a
guy like me, as pretty as my sister.

I felt a lot of different things about him. I felt better
than him, because I knew he was stringing me along
to get his hands on me. I felt pissed at him for being
a cheating asshole behind my sister's back. And I
admit it, I felt flattered that he thought I was as
desirable as Lisa. So, yeah, I knew what he was up to,
and I fell for it anyway. You can't get much dumber
than that.

I knew he was trying to give me a charge out of
thinking I was the only one he'd consider fooling
around with, and I got charged all right. My whole
body shivered with it.

He was tracing patterns on my bare chest, like he
was drawing a picture, while he was talking, and I
just kept letting him, watching his dick lift up the
thin stuff of his pants, waving at me like a dog with
its nose up to take a sniff around. I got so turned on,
feeling his rough fingertips circling my tits, looking
at his big dick getting harder and harder.

"What do you like about guys?" he asked me, but
before I could answer, his hand was moving down
my side, pulling the sheet and spread away from
my hips. "Do you like a guy to fuck you?" His palm
was rounding the side of my waist, kind of urging
me onto to my side so he could feel my ass.

The only honest to God curves on my body. It's a
nice butt. I had it to thank for many hundreds of
dollars worth of drugs up my nose. I was off that
stuff by then and trying to behave myself. Maybe I
was just plain horny. There's no excuse, really.
When I felt his big hand massaging my ass, I flipped
right over for him and snagged a rubber from the
drawer by the bed.

He fucked me and it felt it good. It was only after
I'd done it that I felt bad. And feeling bad didn't
stop me from letting him do it any damn morning
he felt like it. After my sister would leave, he'd
just come right in and get into bed with me. When
her school year ended, he got desperate and did
it one morning when she just was going out to the
store. He was on me when she came back in, to
get something or other she'd forgotten. God, it
was horrible.

So there I was. Way up town with a view of the
Hudson River and not much to do but see my
psychiatrist five times a week. He'd taken over
figuring out the school thing for me. In the fall,
public school teachers would show up from the
home bound students program, to make me do
classes at right there at the diningroom table.

In the meantime, I tried not to piss off my sister
in law. I was fresh out of siblings to go to. Karl
seemed almost scared of me. Or scared of saying
or doing something to upset me. I tried to show
him I wasn't such a big mess, but it wasn't easy
for us. I figured the best way I could make it okay
for him was by not upsetting Helen, who was a lot
less easy going than he was. Stuff like keeping my
room clean, going to the store for her in the
neighborhood during the day. Laundry. She'd say
things like, you don't have to do that Brandy, but
I knew it made life easier on my brother, if I did.

They'd have a maid, and I'd have a home, for
awhile.

And I had my buddy Skyler. His mom, Charlotte,
was okay. She was divorced from his dad already.
Different dad, it turned out, from his brother, the
jock, who headed off to college in the fall.

Skyler was pretty impressed with himself when he
turned eight in October. Mr. Big Third Grader.

His mom actually asked me to keep an eye on him
for a couple of hours in the afternoons, between him
being done with school and her getting home from
work. Lord have mercy. She gave me some dumb
amount of money to do it. Not enough to be worth it
if I hadn't wanted to do it, and totally bogus since
he was like my best friend at the moment, though
there was a guy I was fucking around with by then.

Ben. A momma's boy who was living at home and
going to college in the city. I saw him in the elevator
sometimes. Caught him giving me looks. He was
nineteen, a dark haired boy, not bad looking. I liked
his round wire rimmed glasses. One day he saw me
on the street, carrying a couple of arm loads of
groceries toward home, and pulled his car up to the
curb, offering me a ride. So much for building up
my arm muscles.

He started taking me to the grocery store a couple
times a week. And then we'd go to his place and
fuck our brains out. I don't think he'd been with
many guys before me, just got himself steamed up,
wanting to. He had a girlfriend and his folks thought
he was straight. He didn't really want me around
when they were home. Kind of put a cramp in being
friends. Bastard.

But the fresh bright face of Skyler was the one I
most looked forward to seeing. It was autumn and
the big trees over the playground were changing
color. We didn't head out there much. Mostly he'd
come to the apartment and I'd give him some small
snack thing and he'd be good and whip out his
homework. I may have been a mess academically,
but there were still a few things I knew of use to
a kid in third grade.

How does that old story start, it was a dark and
stormy night? Well it was dark and stormy, and it
looked like night, the afternoon of Skyler's birthday.
Like some kind of mother hen, I was looking out
the window, worrying about him getting home from
school in that mess. It wasn't a real long walk, and
he tended to get rides with friends' moms in bad
weather. Still, I wished I could drive and had a car
to go pick him up. One time, in September, during
a bad rain storm, I'd freaked and headed toward his
school with an umbrella. I'd gotten all the way there,
found the place deserted, gone home and found him
sitting in the lobby of the building safe and dry,
delivered by somebody's mom. Waiting for me. He
told me to never do that again, but man, was I ever
tempted on his birthday.

Just when my nerves were about to flake completely,
he got there. Damp around the edges, but okay. He'd
been driven home by one of the brown-haired devil
boys' mothers. There were a lot of kids living in that
pair of buildings and Skyler knew them all, not just
those bad boys he'd played with in the summer. Okay,
they weren't so bad. Forgiveness all around had been
granted. I just wasn't crazy about them.

Skyler was full of himself for his birthday. He'd
gotten a ton of stuff at his party. They'd had it that
weekend already. I think I bought him something
like a watch, maybe, with my ill gotten gains from
taking care of him and gave it to him with a piece
of something or other I called birthday cake. But he
knew what he wanted from me, and let me know
pretty quick.

Even as he was snapping the watch around his
wrist he had that look on his face, the one he gets
when he's working up to something, with that
bottom lip out. Before he looked up, he was
starting to smile. God, what a face, like the sun
coming out.

"So, you're not even two times me any more," he
announced. Mathematical genius.

"I'm still you now, plus you when I met you," I
countered. I could add. He frowned.

"So what. I'm older now," he insisted, the point
not to be lost that he had miraculously gained
ground on me. I didn't point out that I'd get it
back in March. He was right in a way, I'd never
be more than twice his age again, ever.