Date: Sun, 03 Feb 2002 23:33:02 -0500
From: Chad M. <chadtales@hotmail.com>
Subject: Justin's Boyhood Chapter 8

JUSTIN'S BOYHOOD
by Chad

Author's Note:  This story contains descriptions of sexual
acts between minors.  If you don't like this, don't read it.
The characters and events are purely from the imagination
of the author, and in no way represent any actual persons
or events.  Any similarity is purely coincidental.

IF YOU HAVE NOT READ THE FIRST SEVEN CHAPTERS,
PLEASE GO BACK AND READ THOSE FIRST!
========================================

Chapter Eight
MATT'S ROOM

Daylight has a way of making things that looked good in the
dark seem really ugly.  I had gone to bed the night before
with pleasant thoughts.  Thoughts about Brian, and the
pleasure he had given me.  And the pleasure I had given
him.

But as I awoke to face another day, all of this seemed--to
put it in Brian's term--nasty.

Was it wrong what I did with Brian?  Had I taken advantage
of a little kid?  My best friend!  It was his idea after all, but
was I wrong to go along with it?

I didn't feel like I could face Brian that day.  For that
matter, I couldn't face , either.  Matt was the one who
started the whole thing, with his graphic description of
jacking off.  Fortunately, when I got to the bus stop that
morning, Matt wasn't there.  I presumed he was sick that
day.

School passed by slowly, and I tried to blend into the
background.  For the first two periods of the day, I hardly
spoke.

However, just before third period, Matt showed up at
school, face flushed and perspiring.  I walked by him in the
hallway  just in time to see him put his skateboard in his
locker.  Turns out he had overslept, missed the bus, and
rode his skateboard to school.

Just then, Devin, Matt's little red-haired buddy, spotted
Matt.

"Hey Matt, where the hell you been?" Devin asked.

"Where do you think?" Matt replied.  "I been with Carly
again...this time all the way!"

"No way!  Dude, no wonder you're sweating like a pig!  Wait
till the other guys hear this!"

With that, Devin high-fived Matt and hurried off on his way.
Matt put on the sly grin of his, and suddenly noticed me
listening to him. I panicked a little bit, but then Matt winked
at me and I relaxed.

"See you after school, Justin!" Matt said.

As he walked away, I smiled.  Matt was actually looking
forward to seeing me!  Woo-hoo!

I was in a better mood the rest of the day at school.  At
lunch, I glanced over to Matt's table.  He was surrounded by
his usual circle of friends, who were wide-eyed and open-
mouthed as Matt apparently was telling them about his
latest conquest.  I laughed softly as I finished my pizza.

After school, Matt got on the bus carrying his skateboard.
None of his friends asked him how or why he had his board.
I guess that would have spoiled his wild stories, and people
do seem to believe what they want to believe.

I sat quietly on the bus, listening to Matt and Danny chatter
about some stupid stuff.  I was disappointed, but not
surprised, that Matt basically ignored me the entire ride
home.

When the bus came to my stop, I stepped off quickly and
started walking ahead of the other kids.  Before I turned
the corner to my street, I thought of Brian again.  I just
didn't feel like I could face him, and I wondered how I might
avoid seeing him today.

"Hey, wait up!" I heard from behind, accompanied by the
sound of skateboard wheels grinding pavement.  Matt
caught up with me.  "Whatcha doing?"

"Walking," I answered without emotion.

"I mean later...this afternoon, shithead!" he said with a
smile on his face.  Even being called shithead sounded like a
compliment from Matt.

"I don't know.  Nothing, I guess."

"Want to hang out for a while?  And skate?" he asked.

"I don't know how to skateboard," I said.

"I'll show you.  Hop on!"

I took my backpack off and put it on the ground. I put a
foot on his board, and then--very slowly-- stepped up with
the other foot.  The board rocked under me, and Matt
grabbed me before I fell on the pavement.

"Here, let me show you how to place your feet," Matt said.

So my first skateboarding lesson began.  I tried several
times, but I just couldn't manage to keep one foot on the
board, and push with the other.  A couple of times I lost my
balance, but every time Matt was there to save me from
getting hurt.

Matt seemed to put his arms almost completely around me
every time he "caught" me, a lot like a mother would hold a
little kid.  I found that I really liked it.  The contact felt,
well, really good.  It made me a bit nervous, but I didn't
want him to stop doing it.

"OK, just stand on the board and let me pull you," Matt
suggested.

He grabbed my wrist and gently tugged.  I rolled along
behind him.  We must have looked like a toddler with a pull
toy!  His hand, wrapped around my wrist, felt soft and
warm, and just a bit sweaty.  His hand slipped, and suddenly
I found he was holding me by my hand!  I started to panic,
because it was causing a little stir in my pants!

I glanced around to see if any of the others kids could see
us, no one was in sight.  Matt, however, didn't seem to be
concerned that he was holding my hand in broad daylight!

Suddenly I noticed that we were in front of Matt's house.  I
was so wrapped up, I hadn't realized that Matt had dragged
me down his street.  We stopped, and he released my hand.

Looking me in the eyes and flashing that famous grin, Matt
said "You wanna come in for a Coke?"

I hesitated before I answered.  I felt as if I stood on a
threshold, of sorts.  Of all my peers, Matt was the one boy
that was everything I wished I could be.  He was athletic,
which I wasn't.  He was popular, which I certainly wasn't.
He had a personality that people seemed to fall in love with,
which I didn't seem to have.  And he was certainly good-
looking.

Good-looking. I had never really thought about that before,
but as I stood in front of his him, looking into his green
eyes, his bright white teeth showing through his sly smile,
it dawned on me just how damned good-looking he was.

In the two years since I had known Matt, (he moved into the
neighborhood in 5th grade), I had never spent no more than
a few minutes with him.  He had his circle of friends, and
that circle didn't extend so far as to include me.  Not that
we were enemies, we just never had really "hooked up."

"You coming?" Matt asked, jerking me back into reality.

I didn't answer, but followed him in the door.  After more
than two years, Matt was making the first move toward a
possible friendship.  I felt a little out of my element, but I
was going to let fate decide the outcome.

"Mom is going to kill you, Matt!" a female voice shouted
from another room.

As we made out way to the kitchen, an older teenage girl
came into view -- Matt's sister I presumed.  The family
resemblance was obvious.  She looked a lot like an older
version of Matt--the same green eyes, the light brown hair,
and the tan complexion.  She was a little taller than Matt,
and aside from the angry grimace on her face, was as
gorgeous as Matt.

"The school called and asked why you weren't there!" she
continued. "I told them you were sick.  I lied for you, you
little snot!"

"Great!  Thanks!" Matt said, grabbing a couple of cold cans
from the fridge.

"You owe me big time for this, or I'm telling Mom!"

Before she finished talking, Matt had propelled me into his
room and closed the door.

"Is that your sister?  She's pretty!" I said.

"Yeah, that's Rachel.  She's 19 and a pain in the ass most
of the time."

"Does she go to school?"

"She goes to the junior college," Matt said.  "Her classes
at a different times, so sometimes she is here during the
day."

I looked around Matt's room.  There were pictures of
skateboarders, carefully torn from magazines, stuck on
the wall with straight pins.  Various dirty and clean clothes
-- I couldn't tell which -- littered his floor.  He had a small
color TV, a spacey-looking boom box, and a computer on his
desk.  I liked his room--it reflected his personality so well.

"You don't talk very much, do you?" Matt said.  It was
more a statement than a question.

"No, I'm kinda quiet, I guess.  There are plenty of others
around who do more than their share of talking."

Matt smiled at me.  "Do you mean me?"

I smiled back.  "I didn't say you!"

"I guess maybe I talk too much sometimes." He pulled the
comforter over his unmade bed, and sat on it, leaning
against the headboard.  "I just have a lot on my mind and
have to let it out sometimes."

"Yeah, that's cool."

Matt noticed I was still standing.  He pulled off his
sneakers, and drew his legs up and sat Indian-style.  He
smoothed out the comforter near the foot of the twin bed,
and patted it once with his hand.

"Sit down if you want," he said.

Following his lead, I pulled my Nikes off, and sat on the bed,
facing him.  With the ice broken, we chatted for a bit while
we downed our Cokes.  Our conversation was pretty
general--like who the nice teachers were, who the assholes
were--things of that nature.  For the first time, I began to
feel comfortable around Matt.  I was finally his equal.

For a while, I forgot all about Brian.  As I sat there on that
bed, I made almost constant contact with those green eyes
of his.  I was nothing less than enchanted. And his
welcoming smile was melting my heart.

I was starting to feel something for Matt--a strange, but
deep feeling unfamiliar to me.

My digital watch beeped.  It was 5 o'clock.

"I'd better go, Matt, so I can beat my mom home," I said
with some regret.

"Yeah, I'm getting hungry. I need to scrape up some food in
the kitchen."

I looked at him questioningly, and he continued, "My dad
doesn't live with us, and my mom doesn't get home till late,
so I usually have to make my own dinner."

"Oh," I said.  "Maybe you can come to our house for dinner
sometime."

"Cool!" he said. "Lemme know."

"OK." I got up from the bed and threw my empty can in his
trash.

"How come I hardly ever see you around the
neighborhood?" he asked.

"I'm around.  You're just always with Dale, so you don't
notice."

He looked down.  "I don't hang out with Dale too much
anymore."

When did things change?  Overnight?  It seemed that
whenever I was out and around, Matt and Dale were always
together, like that day out in the playhouse.

"Did Dale piss you off or something?" I inquired.  "Sorry
for being nosy."

"Naah.  He just doesn't want to..." he paused.  "...he don't
always want to do the same stuff I like to do.  With him it's
sports, sports, sports.  I like to...do other stuff
sometimes."

If there were any hidden meanings to that, it didn't dawn on
me at the time.  I started for his door.

"Hold up a second," he said, grabbing a felt pen.  "Give me
your arm."

He took my hand in his to steady my arm, and started
writing something on my arm.

"Here's my phone number," he said.  "Call me up
whenever."

Now I was nervous again.  I managed a feeble "OK" and
headed to the front door, Matt following me to see me out.
Stupid me, I didn't even think to give him my number.

"Bye, Justin.  Thanks for coming over!" he said, flashing
me that blasted sly grin one more time.

The pleasure was all mine, I thought.

I arrived home just minutes before my mom pulled up.  She
asked me about the ink on my arm.

"A friend from school wrote it," was all the explanation I
volunteered.

"Wash it off before dinner," she said.  She is funny about
those kind of things.

Quickly, I copied his number into my little phone book, and
went into the bathroom.  Before I applied the soap and
water, I stared at the handwriting, and ran my finger softly
over the numbers.  It was hard for me to wash it off.

I didn't see or hear from Brian that day.  It was so late by
the time I got home, he was probably already in the house
for the night.  And Brian wasn't much for phone calls.

As I lie in bed that night, the guilty feelings I had earlier in
the day had mostly dissipated.  I was feeling good about
things.  My afternoon with Matt had turned me around.

I reached down under the covers to find something had
become hard.  I pulled it through the opening in my boxers,
and in the darkness, gently caressed the head.  It began to
feel good and tingly, and caressing became stroking.  I
closed my eyes to shut out any distractions, and
continued.  I thought about--no, pretended--that is was
Matt who was doing the stroking.  In my mind's eye I saw
Matt, his green eyes, his wonderful smile.

Much sooner than I would have expected, my fantasy was
interrupted by a warm flow of liquid.

"Matt," I whispered in the dark.

Oh shit, I thought, what was I doing?

TO BE CONTINUED

+++++++

Justin's adventures are far from over.  Just like it real life,
some things take time to unfold to their natural conclusion.
Stay tuned.

If you would like to send a comment or suggestion, please
drop me a line at chadtales@hotmail.com.