Date: Tue, 29 Jul 2003 18:05:35 -0700 (PDT)
From: Jon Loewe <jonloewe@yahoo.com>
Subject: Oliver Chapter 9

Disclaimer: You know the stuff!

Chapter NINE -- Day 8
I awoke to something touching my cheeks, my forhead,
my lips. I opened my eyes and Ollie was tickling my
face with his dick. It was hard and I opened my mouth
and he placed his dick on my tongue. I licked and
sucked. I pulled is bod closer to me by cupping his
ass cheeks in my hands and sitting him on my chest. I
took all seven inches in right down to his hairless
pubes. He moaned and thrust lightly. I started to
slurp on and off his pole. He started to move. I don;t
know how he did it but he turned around, keeping his
dick in my mouth, and sucked on to my boner. Our most
favorite thing -- 69. We sucked. I spewed -- he
spewed. We laid there tickling pubes and dicks and
balls.
A knock on the door.
"We're off to work. It's 8:30"
"Bye!"
We got up and got dressed. Breakfast was waiting on
the table when we got down there. We ate and went out
the door and Shane hollered at us and ran to catch up.
We got up to Ollie's attic and Travis was already
there and covered in paint clothes. We got ours on and
started the base coat. By noon we had 2 coats on  and
were given the rest of the day off to let it try
completely. We went outside and started throwing the
baseball around. Ollie was getting pretty good.
"Let's go to the park!"
We grabbed bats and balls and baseball caps and headed
out to the park to hit a few.
Now, as I am writing this story, I am struck by a
thought -- stereotypes. We learned about them in Mrs.
Wilson's 9th grade English class. Travis, Ollie, Shane
and I did not fit the stereotype of the teenage gay
male. In fact I knew of a couple of other guys that I
thought might be gay and they didn't fit the type
either. I knew of one guy who was quiet and withdrawn,
a little feminine, Oliver says `swishy'. But he was a
nice guy. I was friendly to him but not really friends
with him. I guess what I'm trying to say is that this
group of gay boys was not doing outwardly gay things.
Why does the world try to paint people with only one
color. There are gays who have nothing to do with
sports. There are gays who have nothing to do with the
arts. There are gays who have a lot to do with
everything and nothing to do with anything. So my
point is -- why the stereotype?

Well we had fun batting the ball around. We started
something though. A lot of other teens gathered and
played with us. I knew most of them from high school
and Shane knew the rest from middle school. We had a
blast. We went over to the sugar shack at the center
of the ball fields and got a coke and some sour
gummies and stuff. We spent all afternoon playing ball
and got home just intime for dinner.
There was a call waiting at our house and yes, it was
Shane's mom. But she left a peculiar message. She
asked us all over for dinner. We asked our parents and
then trooped over to Shane's. He was beaming. I never
saw him so happy. He was actually bringing friends
home. Something he told me he hadn't been able to do
since he was about 8. We would find out why that
night.

Michael Jon Loewe