Date: Thu, 24 Jan 2002 02:36:42 +0000
From: Java Biscuit <javabiscuit@hotmail.com>
Subject: Back to the Playground, 4

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.

The character referred to as both Joe and Todd in
chapter three, will be known as Joe Todd. Humble
apologies from the author!

Feedback: javabiscuit@hotmail.com


Back to the Playground ~ chapter four

by Biscuit


I couldn't treat Skyler like Josh had treated me, but
I couldn't quite leave him alone, either. Impossible.
He rapidly became the highlight of my days as the
autumn brought a new routine to my life. In the
mornings I went downtown to see my shrink. From
about ten o'clock to one o'clock I saw the teachers who
did the homebound program. That wasn't too bad.
Three different guys came to the house. Between them,
they covered everything, trying to get me caught up to
something vaguely resembling high school.

What I did was let Skyler use me. The first few times
I pretended that I didn't know what he was doing, like
on the swing, and when he jumped me on the couch, in
his towel. That changed, near the end of the summer.
It happened when he found my hiding place between the
playgrounds. He followed the smell of the joint I was
smoking. Clever kid.

"You know you can smell that stuff you're smoking," he
told me. That's when I gave up the weed. I was running
low and when I thought about trying to score some more,
I knew I'd have to go back to one of the old hangouts to
do it. What the fuck. I didn't like how Skyler was looking
at the joint, sniffing at the air. I didn't say to myself that
I was giving it up for him, but that's why I did it. I didn't
like seeing that blond head of his wreathed in pot smoke.

"Want to play a game?" he asked me, tugging at the grass
near where I was stretched out in my lair. I'd pinched off
the jay and destroyed the roach, thinking what a waste it
was, but not wanting him to see me hide it.

"Like what?" I asked him.

"I don't know." I could see the wheels turning. I wondered
if he'd been looking for his brown haired buddies. "I
thought of a spaceship game."

I must have looked doubtful, because he ripped the grass
he was playing with impatiently and sort of launched
himself up on his knees in my direction and sprinkled
the torn grass bits on my chest.

"That's the alien power stuff," he said. "It makes you like
you're paralyzed, except if I say you can do something.
Okay. We're on my ship now."

"Wait a minute," I laughed. "I didn't say I was playing."

His face and his whole body went into instant please-oh-
please mode. Give the kid an oscar, those furrowed blond
eyebrows and pooched lips were academy award material,
not to mention his shoulders straining toward me.

"Okay, okay. Start over," I said, trying not to laugh.
"You better hit me with some more alien power stuff."

"This is for real, now," he said, tugging up more grass.
He sprinkled it over me. "We're on my ship." His voice
had gotten quiet. "I never saw an earth person before,"
he almost whispered it, near my ear. He'd paralyzed me
on my back with my knees up and I suddenly felt every
uneven lump of soil and rock under me but I wasn't
going to move. Then Skyler started touching me and I
felt nothing else. His hands moved over my face, he held
my jaw to turn me to peer at me like he'd never seen a
human before. But I knew it was Skyler, freed by his
game, staring at me, touching me.

If I wasn't in love with him yet, I was well on my way.
Who had ever looked at me with such rapt attention, such
longing. There'd been a quality like it in the way Lauren
used to play romance games with me. But Lauren's love
had always been for the characters we were playing, an
intensity inside him that he set free when we played. Not
really directed at me, for who I am, or was.

My cock started getting hard the minute Skyler had put
his face near mine to whisper in my ear, but it was
throbbing by the time he sat his warm ass on it, riding
my hips. By then his eyes were almost dreamy looking,
and I could the see the mini boner in his shorts. He
lowered himself down and with his golden face right by
my cheek, he said, "You can touch me now, okay. But
you can't talk yet."

Was he scared I'd tell him to stop? Jesus. He started
rubbing himself on my dick, his head dropped on my
chest. I could feel the heat of his flushed cheek right
through my tee shirt. Looking down; his bright blond
hair and the arch of his back, his rear end in motion
against the tops of my thighs. Touch him. He wanted
me to touch him. Oh God. His bare thighs were smooth
in my hands. I circled one in each palm, sliding up them
to where his shorts ended, getting under the cotton
hems, feeling the edges of his underpants. Skyler was
writhing and made a noise like a gasp. Then he started
what I knew was the last assault right before he'd go off,
and it was more than I could bear. I unloaded, hot and
out of control, in my pants, fighting not to grab him
tight and grind into his belly.

For a little boy, he seemed to weigh a ton after he came,
like all his molecules got heavier from popping off. I
wouldn't have moved him for the world, though. I just
laid there, squished in my own spunk, stroking his back
until he was ready to get up. By then I had enough
strength to help him off me.

I couldn't pretend I didn't know what he was doing
anymore. Even if he called it a game, or came up with
different excuses to get on top of me.

We didn't do that shit every time I saw him. And I saw
him a lot. Before summer was over, he knocked at my
door, some time or other, almost every day. Sometimes
we just went for a walk, or watched TV. His mom had
a woman there all morning who cleaned and was there
to look after him. In the afternoons his brother was
supposed to watch him, but he sometimes did, and
sometimes didn't.

Then school started, for him and me, and I suddenly
had a life, of sorts.

By the time his birthday came, Skyler had a definite
idea of something he wanted from me. I kind of knew
it was coming. He'd hinted. I'd resisted. Naked. He
wanted to feel some skin. When I'd asked him a few
weeks before, what he wanted for his birthday, he'd
said, "Can I have anything I want?"

"What do you think, I'm made of money?" I asked him,
but I knew. Didn't have a damn thing to do with money.
The look on his face was enough to tell me that.

"Won't cost a penny," he teased me.

"Forget it," I said. "That's not a birthday present kind
of thing."

Naked, to me, was dangerous. It was real sex, not just
playing. So, I was fooling myself, but I needed some
lines drawn. I told myself it was for his sake, but it
was just as much for my own. How deep can you let
yourself fall for a kid? To hear him make a big deal
about turning eight, only made me more intensely
aware of how young he was.

So there we were, at my sister in law's table, with its
thick protective table pads and heavy plastic and cloth
cover. The expensive wood surface would only show
its face at holidays. Skyler's plate of cakey thing was
left half eaten and he came to me, where I was pulled
up to the table so the edge was practically gouging my
stomach; as if I could use it to hide from him.

"I like it," he said, holding up his wrist with the
watch on it. He got up close and cocked his knee up,
leaning it on my thigh. He covered his watch with his
fingers. "Guess what time it is," he said.

"Ugh, you're breaking my leg," I said, pushing his
knee off. He just grinned and put it back.

"It's time to give me my real present," he said.

Oh man. He'd been at me for ages to either let him in
my pants or get my hand into his. How I resisted, I
don't know. One of my lines was, "That's not a game."
Brilliant. Or worse, "Don't be silly, that's grown up
stuff."

Right. For grown ups like me at six, with a room full
of naked boys. At my initiation into that club, four of
those seven boys shot their loads through my slippery
fingers; my naked belly was coated with spunk. Philip
and Lauren were too young to spurt, and Josh came,
jerking off with me sitting on his dick. Afterwards, it
was Philip who gave me a bath and got me off with his
soapy fingers working between my legs.

But Skyler. He was trying to worm his way on to my
lap, knee first, like he could get into the no space by
force of will.

"It's my birthday, Brandy," he said, as if that meant I
had to give in. He was pressed to my arm, his arms
going around my neck.

I got my arm around him, not looking at him, looking
out the window. So dark out there already, at four
o'clock. With the lights on inside you could hardly see
anything but lights in the distance, downtown, miles
away, and the impression of rain. I felt my heartbeat
was hard in my chest, but not as hard as my dick was
beating in my pants. Even so, I almost felt like crying.

Just not a healthy kind of teenager.

"Tell you what," I said, clearing my throat, feeling his
head pushing at the side of my face. "You can have alien
power of my hand, if you want, for a few minutes. You
can do whatever you want to with it," I said.

"For real?" he said, with emphasis, which meant, for
real with his pants off, since I'd said before that alien
power didn't mean naked.

"Yep. Just this once, okay?" Like I even believed that
myself. There was no way to turn back. I knew once I
let him do it, I wouldn't be able to say no to doing it
again. Here's the foolish way I managed to save my
sanity. I closed my eyes. Like it was all right to touch
his naked little boner if I didn't look at it.

I cleared away his dish and went into the TV room
with him. I didn't turn on the lights. We got on the
couch and I waited. I shut my eyes and listened to the
whispery sounds of his pants being pushed down his
legs. It was kind of a shock when he got in my lap. I
don't know what I'd thought he would do. But there
he was, warm on my thighs, leaning back into my chest
with his bare legs spread over me and his bare butt up
up against my rigid dick. Oh Skyler. I held up my hand
and he took it, pressed it over the silky hot skin of his
hard little prick.

There was barely room to grasp that shaft in my
fingers it was so small, I used one finger and my
thumb to grasp it; an exotic mushroom with a moist
woody stem and small cap. Unreal and yet undeniably
a cock. Nothing else feels the same as that blood hard
flesh, no matter how small it is. Skyler was breathing
hard and his whole body was restless on top of me. I
could smell the little boy sex smell rising up from his
warm naked crotch.

I don't know how many times I made him come. Two,
three times maybe, massaging that baby sprout. I gave
him both of my hands for his birthday, until my inner
clock told me we had to stop and cool down; be doing
something calm and as normal as possible for awhile
before his mom showed up. He didn't fight me on it
when I kissed the top of his head and said it was done.

I'd never needed to jerk off so bad in my life. I went
to the bathroom, sending him to start on his homework.
I came hard and fast into a wad of toilet paper and then
I spent a long time splashing my face with water, trying
not to look at myself in the mirror.