Date: Tue, 29 Jan 2002 19:00:03 +0000 From: Java Biscuit <javabiscuit@hotmail.com> Subject: Back to the Playground, 6 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. Feedback: javabiscuit@hotmail.com Back to the Playground ~ chapter six by Biscuit Skyler's mom sent him to camp that summer. I quietly freaked out. At least Trent was around. He was getting ready to go to Columbia University and in spite of his mother's urging, was moving out on his own with a friend. I got to help him look for a place, which his dad was going to help him pay for. The worst part of the summer, of course, was August; shrink vacation time. I scraped through it. That's when Trent proved himself; a friend to me when just about anybody else in his place would have told me to take a hike. To him and his friend Charles, I was a kid, even though I was only three years younger. I wasn't even a good in school kind of kid. Charles was a straight guy, a science nerd like Trent. He knew Trent was gay, but in their world all that mattered was how smart you were. Charles suspected me of not being all that smart, but he tolerated me as an eccentricity of Trent's, whom he considered the smartest guy in the world. The two of them found a place together, two bedrooms, and I showed up there almost every single day in August. I didn't know what else to do with myself without my shrink, without Skyler. The place was hotter than hell and a mess. The top floor of a brownstone on 111th street. Like at my brother's place, I tried to make myself welcome where I might not be wanted, by being helpful. I'd get there in the morning and do their dishes, clean up the shit in the kitchen and straighten up the bathroom. I wasn't exactly the man of Trent's dreams, but we had some nice sweaty sex that August, before he started school, met Daryl and I was banned from the bed. I'd get there before he was even awake and be blowing him when he woke up. Having Trent to go to, to hang out with, saved my life. He and Charles took me to weird movies and cheap restaurants. I got to help them furnish their place with crappy furniture, and I drank some of the worst wine I've ever had in my life with them. I think Daryl, who Trent ended up with, is one lucky guy. Daryl is a hunk and a half. A Phys Ed teacher at a school where physical stuff couldn't be lower on the totem pole. I think half the reason he went there to teach is that he finds brainy guys sexy. Trent wasn't his student, but he met him at the University gym. Trent was there after hours, trying to work off some fat. Love at first sight, for those two. Damn. It's weird that with Trent, who was so much bigger than me, I was the aggressor, the one on top. And with Skyler, I was like some big girl, trying to keep her panties on. When Skyler got home from summer camp he gave me a funky key chain he'd made for me out of braided leather and beads and I gave him my naked body. After all, as he pointed out, he was about to be in fourth grade. I'd missed him so much. The first time we were alone together, I think, was Labor Day Weekend. Karl and Helen had gone upstate to see friends for the three day thing and Skyler's mom had a date in the city and was planning to stay with the guy overnight. She asked me to stay with Skyler at their place. You'd think it was our wedding night or something. Me as nervous as a virgin and Skyler as hot as a bridegroom that's been made to wait for the vows. She wasn't gone two seconds before that kid was on me, wrestling me backwards on their living room couch. "Wait," I begged him, trying to hold him still on top of me, straining to hear any sound from the hallway. "She's not coming back" he laughed at me, using his knee like a crowbar to pry my legs open. I managed to push him off me and went to the door, opening it a crack to peek down the hallway. No one there, she must have got on the elevator. God, I was a wreck, so turned on, and so scared of what I might break down and do about it. When I turned around he was gone. "Sky?" I knew where I'd probably find him. And he was there. In his bedroom, stripping off his clothes. He was so brown from the sun, except his white rear end and his crotch. In the year I'd known him his little cock had gone from not much more than a fat nub of flesh to a small thumb of a dick, hard as could be just then. His face was pinked up, partly sun and partly excitement, and his blue eyes were sparkling. I wish I had a picture of him from just that moment. "You should put something on, some shorts, or sweats," I told him. He looked at me like I'd slapped him. Hurt, confused. "Sky, it's early still. We can fool around later," I said, trying to soften what we both knew was me saying no to him. "We didn't even have dinner yet," I said. Such bullshit on my part, I was just too uptight. I left him there to go call for a pizza and try to calm down. His mom had left us money. I needed to get a grip on my nerves. A whole night seemed like a huge dangerous landscape gaping in front of me, endless hours of temptation to do things I both desperately wanted and desperately wanted to avoid, like seeing his mouth on my dick, like fucking him. A sullen looking Skyler came into the kitchen and announced that he wasn't hungry. At least he had on a pair of sweats. "Maybe you'll be hungry by the time it gets here," I said, hanging up the phone. I was sitting on a kitchen stool thing, part chair, part fold out ladder. He made his way over to me, head hanging, and put a foot on the bottom rung of the ladder, getting his knee between mine. He leaned in and I put my arms around him. He felt so good to touch. I rubbed his smooth back and pat his butt. "Brandy, when I get older are you going to marry me?" Oh Jesus. He was climbing up, a foot on the step and his other leg hooking over mine, trying to get in my lap. He wasn't the pint-sized kid he'd been just a year before when I'd carried him out of the playground in his pissed in shorts. I had to brace myself against the back of the chair and hold his butt to support him as he swung his other leg up. The year before, his head would have been at my chin, now he was looking at my lips. "Guys don't get married to other guys, Sky." Good answer, I thought. "They can if they want to, my mom said they can." Oh God. Had he asked her? About me? He hung on my neck, pressing up the length of me, hiding his face between his arm and my neck. So hard not to think about fucking him with his ass in the palm of my hand. What had he said to his mom about me and marriage? If she thought he was feeling like that, why would she leave us alone together? "She's probably right. Doesn't happen too often, though." "We could do it when I'm eighteen and you're twenty five." "Twenty six," I said automatically. "Not if it's winter," he insisted. "Like at Christmas." He rolled forward to mash his little hardon against me, and I gave his ass a squeeze. He had it all figured out. "So, will you?" he pushed for an answer. Even the wedding date. I held back a laugh. Which one of us did he see in the white dress? I didn't ask him. I knew he'd think I was making fun of him. I had a feeling it was me he saw in the dress. All his talk about how pretty I was, and the way he stabbed at me with his cock, like he wanted to put it in me. I knew Skyler wasn't seeing himself as my bride. That was another reason, though not the main one, that I was not going to let myself fuck the beautiful little buns I was warming in my hands. My gut told me he'd let me do whatever I wanted to him. I could well imagine him gritting his teeth and taking it. But not for a second did I think Skyler wanted my dick up his ass. "Yeah I'll marry you," I said. "If you still want me to when you're eighteen." Not much danger of that, I figured. "I knew it," he said, hugging my neck tighter. Good Lord. Around his little finger, that's where he had me wrapped. The longer I knew Skyler, the less he reminded me of me. It was superficial, the stuff we had in common, gay kids with blond hair. He wasn't really like me, or like any of the boys I knew in Baltimore. But there were things about him that reminded me of us. He was horny like I'd been as a kid, but not cock crazy. I think he'd seen plenty of dicks before he saw mine; his brother's, his dad's, a few of his camp counselors, for sure -- he told me about them. He had a good measure of Lauren's romantic thing, but had his feet planted a lot more firmly on the ground. He was solid and into sports like Philip, but much more sensitive and less consumed by competition. Skyler would excel in wrestling but he only went so far with it, not wanting to spend all his free time in gyms and at tournaments. As for what he had in common with Josh, there was a lot. A kind of swagger that went with his aggressive behavior. He was a charismatic kid, someone that other kids wanted to follow. Charlotte told me she only saw that in him after I appeared on the scene. I'd like to think she's right, that I gave him confidence he didn't have before. But what I really think is that he just bloomed late. My biggest fear was that I would make him feel bad about himself. Like I felt after all that junk happened with me and Josh. Skyler was strong like Josh, but thousands of times sweeter and kinder. And I was just as hopelessly enamored of him as I'd been of the boy who ruled my life for two years. Josh took charge of me from the outset. I was part of the club, but more like his personal sex toy than a real club member. Typically, when the club met, I didn't do what the other guys did, I just took orders from Josh. If it was summertime, there'd be two boys staked out on lookout at the top of the hill. In the woods, two boys at a time were tied to trees with their pants down and blindfolds covering their eyes. Sometimes they'd guess, but they couldn't see who was doing what to them. Josh was never tied up, and neither was I. Nobody wanted me tied up. Maybe my baby sized dick wasn't interesting enough, or I was just too small to excite them as a prisoner. I used to want a turn, even though you weren't supposed to be liking it. What a joke that was, of course they liked it. I wondered what it would be like to feel the tree bark against your ass, with your cock sticking out naked, not knowing when you were going to be touched or how. It made those kids hard as rock. They always knew when it was me playing with their dicks because my hands were littler than anybody else's. And I was the only one that would suck them, without being forced to do it. By the time I figured out that you weren't supposed to like doing it, it was too late. They had me pegged as a cocksucker. Even though they liked me doing it, they made fun of me. Even Josh did, sometimes. We used sticks to poke at those boys with, and leafy vines to tickle them. Sometimes Josh brought other junk to tease them with, like different kinds of food. I saw him rub a split open grapes over the head of a kid's dick and then feed them to him. The prisoner game that Skyler and his friends played was so innocent by comparison. Two things had to happen before a boy was untied. He had to piss, and he had to come. Josh didn't bother to tickle somebody until they peed, although it sometimes happened. He ordered them to do it, and if they had trouble, he'd do things like stick their fingers in warm water or dribble it on their dicks. He'd get close to their ears and make long drawn out "ssssssssss" sounds, telling them, "You have to go really bad." Sooner or later the boy would let go, sometimes with someone holding his cock to direct the flow, sometimes just spouting off in the air. And we'd watch the yellow stream fly out of his piss hole. I sucked a lot of boy cock in those woods. Not usually a full fledged blow job, that was just for paying dues, to Josh. But as my part of torturing the prisoner, I'd get my mouth on him and suck for a while, tickle him with my tongue. Josh got mad at me if a guy shot off in my mouth, so if I thought a kid was close I'd back away and use my hand. To picture Skyler there in my place, which I sometimes did, was enough to turn my stomach or make me feel like crying. I don't know why. I thought I was liking it at the time. So, I told Skyler I'd marry him and we waited for the pizza to show up, him working his stiff thumb of a cock on the folds of denim bunched over my hardon, my fingers trailing between his spread cheeks, through his sweat pants, dipping down to play with his tight little balls. When he came it was like hanging on to a little bucking bronco. Later that night, when we were stretched out on his bed with a shitload of pillows around us, the TV on in front of us, and his fingers were playing at the top button of my fly, I didn't stop him. He eased the buttons open. He was on his side, with his head half on a pillow he'd squished in my armpit, half on my chest. I was so hard. I'm sure he could hear my heart pounding away under his head. I think I kissed the top of his head. I know I closed my eyes, not wanting to see him touch me. It felt so good, his fingers sliding into my open fly, rubbing me through my briefs at first. I know I'd leaked into them like crazy and could feel him exploring the wet spot before slipping his hand under the waistband of my underwear. "When we get married," he said, "no other guy can touch you. Only me. Not even Trent." "Trent doesn't want to touch me, Sky." "That's what you think," he laughed. But he thought every guy in the world was after my dick. That's another thing he had in common with Josh, considering my body his personal property. With Josh, I felt bound by the weight of so many secrets, of so much about me that was too dirty to ever tell. And by my crush on him. With Skyler, I just wanted it to be true. He took to my nakedness like a duck to water, or a dog let off its leash. Like it was his birthright to enjoy it. Happy, but not amazed or surprised, just like it was something he had coming to him.