Date: Fri, 04 Feb 2011 22:08:14 -0600
From: michaelpete@hushmail.com
Subject: The Colombian 1

Be advised that in the following one will find graphic
sexual depiction between minors and minors and adults. The
story is fiction but based on real characters, events,
places and situations. There is no relationship between the
names used and that of any real person. Send comments to
michaelpete@hushmail.com.

Michael Peterson

                        THE COLOMBIAN

                          PART ONE

     My parents divorced then dumped us on relatives when I
was five. I became a year round boarding school resident at
six. I beat up my first kid at seven and fucked Marcelino
Quinteros at eleven. But, there was a lot in between.

     My parents were both independently well off, ambitious,
corporate executives whose stormy marriage came apart three
times, the wild reunifications resulting in three children,
raised more by a series of nannies than our absentee
parents. However, by the time I hit five, the off and on
marital bliss had deteriorated into a wrestling match to see
who could out lawyer the other. We'd grown up with the
growling and screaming, slamming doors and smashing of
valuables so just stayed out of the way. Nannies weren't
quite so inured, some lasting only days. The ones who lasted
the longest did so because their employers were off on long
absences making money and avoiding one another. However, the
storms eventually became category five hurricanes with the
resulting nasty divorce. I was five. We were ignorant of the
impending separation until we were separated from our
freedom and suddenly and unceremoniously moved into the
grand New York apartment of our Aunt Elizabeth who hardly
knew us, was unaware of how unruly we were and was shocked
at our wild, noisy, sometimes violent behavior among her
precious belongings. Sixteen days later, her chauffer
dropped us and a small trunk each (She'd bought us all she
felt we'd need over the next year or so.) off at Our Lady of
Sorrows Academy boarding school for the school year. The day
school let out, we were shipped off to Camp Witchitachee for
the summer. Aunt Elizabeth didn't even allow us home for
Christmas, just sent crummy gifts. When Sean, my eldest
brother, born three years ahead of me, became a discipline
problem, he was sent to Norris Military Academy which also
had its own summer camp meaning he became a full time, year
around resident there. Since neither Benny, my almost two
years older brother, nor I were particularly well behaved,
it was decided that we'd follow Sean into Norris at fifth
grade, the earliest they'd accept new "cadets". However,
Norris did take seven year olds at its camp permitting three
month reunions each summer after the last day of school.

     Benny was two grades above me so I had to endure two
years without his protection. Not being by any measure the
nicest kid in class, that meant a number of fights. Though I
usually won them, always when it was one on one, even with
boys a year older, there were times when I pissed off enough
kids or a much older brother. Those were the ones I lost.
One older brother broke my nose leaving it forever mildly
cockeyed. To make matters worse, the nuns tried to expel me
rather than the kid who broke my nose. They couldn't since
there was no one who would take me and, I suppose, because
my bills were always paid on time.

     Without friends, I found one between my legs and spent
a lot of my spare time enjoying temporary carnal relief from
the misery of a life filled with hate and nastiness, most of
it my own.

     Summer camp was less miserable because I was again with
my brothers who were both protectors and friends, assets I
generally lacked. However, as was the school that operated
it, the camp was military meaning marching, kid officers and
bugles, all of which I quickly learned to hate almost as
much as my missing parents.

     Sean had a few hoodlum friends with whom he hung,
misbehaved and marched off demerits. Benny and I only had
each other. We were slicker with our mischief, better
managing not to get caught as often.

     We stole camp items like horse bridles, belts made by
other campers, a couple of carving knives from the kitchen,
and the microphone from the director's cabin. We had no use
for them, just enjoyed the thrill of doing the crimes and
getting away with them. We also beat off a lot, sometimes
with a few of Benny's acquaintances. There was a special
spot under one of the large cabins which was invisible from
the outside but had enough headroom that we could masturbate
on our knees. None of us could do more than throb
pleasantly. A couple of times we had contests to see who
could get off the most times. One kid did it six times in a
row both occasions. For proof, we had to take the word of
the other kids who were willing to hold on to the boy's
cock. Benny refused to touch anyone else's privates since he
was "no fag". No one else could get off more than four
times. Benny and I could only accomplish three.

     Benny liked to harass the weaker and less popular kids,
especially those who showed the slightest sign of
effeminacy. In my second year in camp with him, I was eight.
Benny was ten. There was a chubby boy in his group of forty-
eight named Willie who Benny told me was a queer. I wasn't
sure what that meant. He said he'd show me.

     We managed to corner Willie in the shower one Sunday
afternoon. Many of the campers had visitors. Willie, like
us, was virtually abandoned. He spent a lot of time in the
showers and, according to a rumor Benny claimed to have
heard, sucked the occasional cock. Benny wanted a go.

     When we walked into the shower naked, Benny's stiff
cock advertised his intention. Willie tried to leave.

     "Where you going, Willie? Gimme a blow job like you did
the others."

     "You're crazy. I got a visitor." He tried to push past
us.

     Benny pushed him back with both hands to his chest.
"You don't have any visitor, Willie. C'mon, just suck us and
you can go."

     "I don't do that kind of stuff. Get away from me. I'm
gonna tell my counselor."

     "Then I'm gonna have to beat your ass. C'mon, just suck
us and we'll be your friends. Nobody'll bother you." As he
spoke, Benny ratcheted up the threatening tone of his words.

     Tears appeared in Willie's eyes. "I never did anything
to you. I."

     Benny jammed him back against the tile wall and punched
him in his ample belly. "Do it, now!"

     Benny put his hands on the soft shoulders of the
weeping boy and pushed him down. Willie sank to his knees.
Benny stepped up, putting his hard on at Willie's lips.

     "Suck!"

     Willie opened up and sucked. His quickly obvious skill
belied any claims that he didn't do "that kind of stuff".
His head went rapidly back and forth, side to side. Benny
leaned into and over him, clearly enjoying Willie's oral
skill. My cock came up at the ready.

     Benny began slowly pumping into Willie's mouth, finally
wrapping his arms around his head and banging hard into his
mouth. The muscles on the back of his legs stiffened. He
grunted as he thrust his hips forward and climaxed. Seconds
later he relaxed and stepped back. I didn't need any
encouragement but I did have to push Willie down a bit more
to get my cock into his mouth.

     The feeling was far more intense that beating off. I
immediately copied Benny's thrusting, holding onto the sides
of Willie's big head as I did. I came much too quickly. I
clutched Willie's head to me until my orgasm was through and
the worst of the sensitivity passed. He tried to pull loose
but my arms held him too tightly. I got to fucking his mouth
again. He yanked away.

     "You said just once," he cried to Benny.

     "Yeah," retorted Benny, "but he didn't. Suck him. Isn't
gonna hurt any."

     I yanked on his head to get it back to my cock.

     "This isn't."

     Benny kicked him in the thigh. "Shut up and suck!"

     It took longer the second time. Willie worked his
tongue all over the shaft and head as I banged away. I was
delirious with passion. By the time I was close, I was
nearly jumping with each thrust. The second orgasm was
longer, better than the first. I was too exhausted to go for
the third I was sure I had in me.

     Benny said, "See. Now, if anybody tries to do anything
with you, just tell us and we'll kick his ass. But you gotta
come suck us whenever we say. Got it?"

     Willie slid up the tile wall rather than stand,
frustration and cautious anger on his pudgy face. When he
eventually struggled up and started out of the shower, Benny
moved in front of him and asked again, "Got it?"

     "Yes," replied Willie meekly.

     Benny moved out of his way and Willie, shoulders
drooping, left.

     "What if he tells?" I asked becoming concerned we'd
gone too far.

     "He's a queer. Who's he gonna tell?"

     We went back under the hot water to enjoy a relaxing
shower.

     Mark Bradford, another ten year old from Benny's group,
appeared in the opening to the locker room.

     "How come you were picking on Willie?" he demanded
angrily.

     He was fully dressed so wasn't planning on entering the
showers. He was bigger than Benny but probably not as
strong. My brothers and I were all well endowed physically
but Benny was a bundle of muscle. There is a picture of him
at six flexing a bicep that should make most fourteen year
olds jealous.

     "Fuck you!" retorted Benny.

     "Fuck you! You better stay away from Willie or else!"

     "No, you better stay away from him. He's ours now."

     Mark disappeared for a moment. The water was turned
off. There was a main valve in the corner of the locker
room. Mark re-appeared and walked toward us.

     When he was close, Benny spat into his face. Mark
blinked, wiped his face with an arm and went at Benny. I ran
at our attacker but needn't have. Benny hit him in the eye
then the mouth and followed it up with a kick to the groin.
Mark collapsed to the wet floor. Benny kicked him twice in
the side.

     Mark took two breaths and cried a long low squealing
cry.

     "Stay away from Willy. And say anything about this and
both a us'll kick your ass all over camp. C'mon, Nevie." My
name is Neville.

     It seemed certain Mark's face would     blow up, making
what happened obvious to cadet officers and staff alike. I
was sure he'd tell what happened.

     As we dressed, Benny said, "Don't worry about Mark. He
won't say anything. He was getting blowed by Willie. What's
he gonna say why we were fighting?"

     What he eventually told his counselor was that Benny
and I just jumped him for no reason. His mistake was using
Willy as a witness. Benny insisted he turned off the showers
and came after us for no reason. Willie equivocated enough
the we, as well as Mark, only got five demerits each
resulting in two and a half hours of marching the following
Saturday.

     I tried to convince Benny not to do anything but knew
he would.

     What he did, however, was pure genius. Benny knew that
Mark Bradford and Eugene Masters, a boy from the twelve year
old group, had had words a couple of weeks before in the
dining hall over some spilled food. Benny went into the
forest and scooped up a box full of ants which he had a
twelve year old cohort of Sean put under Eugene's covers
half an hour after taps. Eugene was a dimwit, but a very
nasty one. The boy who'd actually done the deed told Eugene
moments later that he'd seen Mark Bradford run out of the
barracks. Another co-conspirator confirmed it.

     Nothing more was required. In the morning, minutes
after reveille, Eugene was waiting just inside the door to
the latrine. Mark was about the fifth to walk in. The
beating was brief but very thorough. Without touching his
face, Eugene managed to do enough damage to merit three
Saturday's at hard labor, the worse punishment I'd ever
heard of short of expulsion.

     Mark didn't speak or even come close to us the rest of
the summer. Willie became very compliant, sucking us daily
for a week and a half then nearly daily for the last month
and a half of summer. I got off twice every time, adding a
third when I was especially horny. Benny never needed more
than one.

     The strange side to it all was the fact that we were
less abusive of others during that time, more relaxed. We
participated in most camp activities and generally stayed
out of trouble, except for having to threaten two different
kids who walked into the shower room unexpectedly when
Willie was at work.

     Back at my boarding school in September, I immediately
began seeking a replacement for Willie. I found one in my
class, a small quiet kid, still eight, who did it the first
time for a lark.

     "Okay," he said when I suggested we try something sexy.

     We went into a janitor's closet on the third floor. A
transom let light in. I expected to have to get a little
rough but when I said, "First, you put mine in your mouth
and suck it."

    He thought for a moment then said, "Okay".

     I pulled down my pants and stood in front of him,
already quite hard. He sniffed it then licked the
circumcised head. Daily showers had their benefits. That
must have proved acceptable because he gripped my hips with
his hands, opened up and took the whole thing in. At first,
he just sucked and moved it around with his tongue. I nudged
his head back and forth. He caught on quickly.

     After a few moments, he stopped and asked, "How long,
uh, is this all we're gonna do?"

     "Just keep doing it 'til I say stop."

     He got back to it and did a reasonable job. My first
orgasm came in a little over a minute. I gripped his head
though continued to pump gently in and out of his mouth. He
dropped his hands to his side.

     When I prodded his head to start doing me again, he
opened up and asked, "What happened?"

     "Nothing. Just keep doing what you were."

     He started in briefly then, "Why don't you do it to me
for a while then I'll do yours some more?"

     "Just keep doing it, kid."

     "How long before you do it to mine?"

     "I don't do it, just you. So do it some more."

     I tugged his head toward my crotch but he resisted,
tried to get up.

     "That's not fair. How come just me?"

     "So I won't beat you up, and nobody else will either."

     "I wanna go now." He again tried to rise.

     "Look, kid, you suck me first." I yanked his head down
by his hair. "Then you can go."

     He began to cry. "I wanna go now. I don't wanna do this
any more."

     I was becoming frustrated, angry. I smacked him across
the side of the head. "First, you gotta suck me or I'll beat
your ass."

     I yanked his face back to my crotch. Still sobbing, he
took me back into his mouth. Realizing he wasn't going to be
very cooperative, I began fucking his mouth. He tried to
keep it closed but opened it each time he sobbed.

     "Shit, kid! Keep your mouth closed. Shit!"

     I held him tighter, fucked his mouth harder. It took
longer than usual. When climax came, I was starting to
sweat. He'd stopped crying but didn't do much to help other
than keep him lips tight around my little shaft.

     When I pulled out, he asked softly, "Can I go now?"

     "Yeah, but you tell anybody about this an' I'll beat
your ass. And you gotta do it whenever I say. But I won't
let anybody else hurt you. Somebody does something to you,
you tell me and I'll beat his ass. Okay?"

     He nodded.

     The third time, in the same closet, I showed him how to
beat off. He seemed to appreciate that and practiced while I
fucked his face. That was about as nice as I'd ever be to
him. I was less nice to most others. In short, I was an
oppressive, thoughtless bully.

     A couple of months short of my eleventh birthday, I
entered fifth grade at Norris Academy in Ohio. Due to three
years in their camp, I was more or less familiar with the
place and its ways, none of which I liked. I did feel better
being there with my brothers who both promised a better life
with their protection and help.

     There was much more marching than we'd done at the
camp. The cadet officers were more oppressive, the staff
more rigid. The discipline was tighter than at my previous
school. There were less opportunities for doing what I
wanted, be it sexual or otherwise. Our time was filled with
studies, chores and lots of military activities. We formed
up and marched before breakfast and after lunch then again
after school. I hated marching. It seemed so completely
senseless, a total waste of time.

     The most free time we had during the week was an hour
or so after dinner. Weekends were better. Demerits, which
were easy to acquire, were marched or worked off on
Saturdays. I always had a few, receiving them for
infractions such as an improperly made bunk, clothes not
folded or hung correctly, not saluting an officer fast
enough and, of course, abusing my fellow cadets. I learned
early on that the threat or use of force against another boy
wasn't enough to silence most. During my first month, I
picked on several trying to assert my political position in
the sixty-four bed dormitory they called, as at camp,
barracks. In each case, I was never told who had ratted me
out, just that I had received five demerits, each worth
fifteen minutes of marching or a half an hour of work, for
fighting.

     My primary goal of finding someone to attend to my
sexual needs fell flat. I did get a boy, Arnold Detweiler,
to do my English homework and provide the answers to
upcoming tests. He was short, squat and had one of those
faces the parts of which seemed to be all pressed together
around his stubby nose. How he came into possession of exam
answers was in doubt. He claimed to know how to break into
the teacher's desk with the help of an older boy who refused
to allow anyone else to go along on the capers.

     I obliquely broached the subject of sex with Arnold one
night in the shower.

     With my hard on in hand and my back to the rest of the
boys, I whispered, "It's hard to jerk off here."

     "You better watch out. That's ten demerits if they
catch you."

     "Where do you do it?"

     "I don't."

     Another brief attempt by his bunk had the same sad
result.

     I complained to Benny and Sean about my lack of a warm
orifice. Benny promised repeatedly to provide someone but
said it had to be someone from my grade because older boys
never did younger.

     That went on until Thanksgiving when, down to only the
two hundred or so kids out of over a thousand who boarded at
Norris, Benny said there'd be more of an opportunity to
intimidate one of my classmates into blowing me.

     His first suggestion was Arnold but I didn't want to
lose him as a source of help with my English class. Next was
another fat boy, Milton something or other, who turned out
to have an older brother he went straight to when
threatened. Sean knew the older boy and calmed the situation
without Benny or me eating the threatened knuckle sandwich.

          Finally, Benny, through an eleven year old, found
a skinny ten year old fifth grader named Steiner who was
already blowing a number of older boys.

     "Why is he here?" he asked when he saw me along with my
brothers.

     "For a blow job, stupid", answered Benny with an
effective sneer.

     It was an incredible relief finally having a warm mouth
around my cock after three months of abstinence. I came in
seconds. I went back for seconds after Benny then again
after Sean filled the boy's mouth with his cum. He objected
but mostly, I thought, because I wouldn't let him run his
hands all over my body. Benny had refused to allow it during
his BJ so I followed suit.

     Getting to Steiner regularly was far more difficult
than it had been with Willie at camp. Weekdays, the shower
was impossible due to the constant supervision of the
monitors, older student officers, three of which were
assigned `tours of duty' in our barracks. What was available
was my fifth grade classroom after dinner. The lock on the
door was defective and easy to open. The doors to the school
itself were, for some unknown reason, never locked.

     Benny and I were enjoying Steiner's ministrations about
three times a week, occasionally sharing him with Sean and a
horny friend.

     Meanwhile, I was hearing stories of boys who were
allowing themselves to be "stuck" as Benny called getting
fucked up the ass. Once again, I pressured my older brothers
to arrange something.

     It was during the Christmas holidays of 1963 when I
first screwed a boy. We were both eleven and still very
prepubescent. Benny, who was entering puberty but still not
very large, set it up. The passive boy was a slight
Colombian named Marcelino Quinteros, one of many Latin
Americans at Norris Military Academy.

     Even though he'd lived with me in the same barracks, I
hadn't taken particular notice of him other than a few times
when one of my more abusive acquaintances called him a fairy
or queer baits. But, since I'd only heard him speak in class
where his struggle with English was more obvious than his
effeminacy and he never hung with the any of us, I'd ignored
his presence. A loner among sixty-four messed up ten and
eleven year olds can be nearly invisible.

     He had, however, been noticed by a few of the older
boys due to his girlish speech and manners and was,
according to my brother Benny, well used sexually by him and
a few others from his barracks.

     It turned out that Benny along with three boys his age
and older had been screwing Marcelino since the third week
of school. The little Colombian had arrived speaking only a
few words of English, and doing so with a lisp. According to
Benny, a barracks mate of his had had convinced Marcelino to
go with him and another twelve year old to a basement
storage room simply by waving him on. For unclear reasons,
he had sucked the two of them and, a few days later, allowed
himself to be fucked. Benny was brought in on the fun the
following week.

     Apparently, the little Colombian quickly accepted his
status as a receptor of boy cocks. Benny and Sean, then
fourteen, figured Marcelino had previous experience. Benny
said that the boy had taken Sean's big cock with only a
whimper. The voluntary aspect became questionable when Benny
admitted a cocked fist was occasionally required to convince
Marcelino to go, especially if Sean or another larger boy
was with them.

     Benny bragged to me about the situation the night
before Christmas Eve. I wasn't totally ignorant of this type
of sexual activity though I'd never personally participated.
In my previous school, there had been a dormitory counselor
who had made it with two others and had them try to convince
me to join in. I'd refused mostly because I never liked the
man much due to his nasty attitude toward some of the other
40 kids in the dormitory, especially my best friend, well,
non-enemy. If a kid wasn't blond and had a decent body, both
of which I had, he gave them short shrift. My sort-of-friend
was chunky and brown haired. There'd also been a time when I
watched a couple of twelve year olds fuck a third grader in
the forest along side our school. They'd invited me to have
a go too but I was worried one of them might want me
afterward.

     Right then at Norris, I was more than just curious. I
was pissed at Benny for not including me.

     When I asked why he hadn't told me about the Colombian,
he said, "Steiner was taking care of you."

     "You too."

     "Well, you're still too little down there." He poked my
crotch. "You probably can't even get it in."

     "Yes, I can. You're only a little bigger'n me."

     Benny agreed to let me try out Marcelino's plumbing.
However, with the offer on the table, I became a bit
concerned.

     "An' he never snitches?"

     "He's never gonna snitch. Jorge talked to him. He
speaks spic 'cause he's from Peru and told him we'd cut his
tongue out if he ever said anything."

     That fit into my understanding of how things worked.

     I leaned back and asked, "You think he likes it?"

     "Of course. He's queer."

     "But you said he cried some when Sean stuck him."

     "Just for a minute, then he stopped."

     The day of my first anal penetration, Christmas Eve,
Marcelino came along with no sign of concern, or interest to
be fair, to the well used fifth grade classroom. Without a
word or sign from either of us, he dropped his pants and lay
over a student desk for me to stick him. I was plenty
anxious since I'd missed that opportunity in my previous
school.

     Fucking Marcelino was to be the next step up in my
sexual experience which began at age five.

     I was as stiff as a bayonet.

     Benny said, "Put some spit on it first."

     I dripped a gob into my hand and lubed myself.
Marcelino lay there casually, his hands back pulling his
skinny cheeks open. I lined up immediately and jammed full
inside him on the first thrust. It was better than I
expected and made me gasp.

     Benny smiled and exhorted, "Now, fuck him! Do it!"

     And that's what I did, hard and fast. Marcelino had to
let go of his buns and grab the sides of the desk. The force
of my screwing was bouncing him all over. Benny got in front
of the desk to keep if from moving forward. Being a novice,
my dick came out a few times. Still, I got off fairly
quickly, no more than a couple of minutes, a lot faster than
my hand could do the job.

     When he saw I was getting off, Benny rushed around the
desk and was tight against me, pants to his knees, ready to
take my place the moment my orgasm was slowing. I wanted to
enjoy the pulsing in my groin.

     "Hurry up, Nevie. My turn."

     He was bigger than me. Then twelve closing in on
thirteen, he'd begun to grow between the legs and was
perhaps a half inch longer than my three inches and twice as
fat. Marcelino's hole was empty for no more than three
seconds. The instant I pulled out, Benny pushed me aside and
plunged into the slippery orifice, right to his balls.

     I watched to see how he did it. He moved slower than
me, more carefully, more deliberately. His ass checks
squeezed together with every thrust. Each time he reached
full penetration, he paused, then relaxed and pulled slowly
back. It took him over twice as long as me to climax,
meaning, of course, he had twice as much enjoyment.

     It resuscitated my horns. "I wanna do it again when
you're done."

     "Jesus, Nevie, just wait."

     I waited. Marcelino didn't move when Benny finally
stepped back. I jumped back in, sticking my dick back in
Marcelino's tender pucker. I copied my older brother's
technique.

     "See, it's better when you go slow."

     It took me a lot longer, perhaps three times as long.
Toward the end, Benny nudged my ass forward so I pushed in
more forcefully. I was breathing hard through my teeth when
orgasm hit. It was as good as the first time, maybe better.

     "Neat, huh?" he said with his hand on my shoulder.
"Next time, I'll make him blow us first. That's neat, too."

     He put his arm over my shoulder and led us toward the
door and the empty corridor with me still stuffing my shirt
inside. Marcelino was left to clean himself up and get back
to the barracks. He hadn't said a word the entire time, nor
had we spoken to him.

     By bed time, I was feeling horny again. Marcelino was
across the aisle from me, a couple of beds down on a top
bunk. I could see his feet, shoes still on, toes down
indicating he was lying on his stomach, the very position I
wanted him in. There were only seven of us in the room. I
wondered what would be said if I was seen going to the bunk
of this effeminate boy or were to ask him to come to mine.
Being one of the tougher and more aggressive boys in the
group, it wasn't likely anything would be said to my face.
Most wouldn't say anything at all for fear I'd hear about
it. However, smartass Buddy Sanford, who was both bigger and
stronger than me, was just three bunks away and would enjoy
the opportunity to put me down in front of others. Then, I'd
probably have to fight him but in the boxing ring, with
boxing rules and a referee. Under those controlled
conditions, I could well lose, making matters worse. Without
official supervision, I felt certain I could kick his ass.
At my previous boarding school, things were looser and one
could catch his enemies in any number of isolated places. If
a kid there wanted to hold on to what he had, becoming a
good fighter was essential.

     The noise of a fight at Norris always seemed to attract
the attention of a staff member or cadet officer. There were
just too damn many of them.

     Perhaps Marcelino Quinteros would go to the bathroom
and I could get to him there, maybe even screw him in a
toilet stall after lights out. My dick was stiff as a
bedpost. I considered going to the shower and beating off
but it was too late, six minutes to taps.

     I wished hard that Marcelino would get up to take a pee
or brush his teeth. The room monitor, an upper school cadet
officer, strutted into the room. He poked Marcelino's feet
with his clipboard and said something, probably an order to
change into his pajamas. Then he stopped at my bed.

     "Chambers, taps in five. Get into your night gear," he
ordered sharply then strutted off. I gave him the finger,
after he'd gone by. No sense marching off demerits during
the holidays, much as they were. I really hated room
monitors. Actually, I hated anyone with power over me,
authority in general.

     I stripped naked at the end of my bed in hopes it might
excite Quinteros but he had his back to me. He put his
pajamas over his underwear and climbed back up on his bunk.
I went to the bathroom, my hard on leading the way, trying
to catch his eye as I passed his rack but he was back on his
gut, his rear end visible but inaccessible.

     The monitor would be back fifteen to twenty minutes
after the lights were turned off. I'd just have to stay
awake but fake being asleep, wait for the others to drift
off, then awaken Marcelino and take him into the bathroom,
or maybe screw him right there on his top bunk. There was no
one below to be disturbed by the vibrations.

     After brushing my teeth, my erection could wait no
longer. I went into a toilet stall and beat off.

     The next day was Christmas. We were all taken to the
service of the religion our parents had registered as ours.
Sean, Benny and I were down as Anglicans so went to the
Episcopalian service run by priest who had to be eighty
years old. He could hardly walk and had to be helped
everywhere he went. The sermon was given by the cadet
colonel, also Anglican and proud of it. I was bored stiff,
literally so, with Marcelino's hole in my conscious. I
played with my hard on the entire service. Next was
Christmas breakfast. The dining room Christmas decorations
were in as bad shape after being up for three weeks as the
breakfast which included the same old crappy scrambled eggs
in hot water, over or under done bacon, toast that had been
toasted half an hour before, hard sticky buns,  and watered
down fruit juice. After expressing his sorrow that we
couldn't be with our families, a farce since it was unlikely
that any of us there at the time had one, the Catholic
chaplain gave out the Christmas packages that had been sent
by our 'concerned' relatives. Sean got slippers from our
mother, a scarf from our father's new woman and a set of
books by someone named Mark Twain from my mother's parents.
Benny received slippers, handkerchiefs and a set of books
about American military heroes from the same three sources.
After seeing what my brothers had, I tossed my three
unopened packages into the dining room garbage.

     Although I'd somewhat accepted that my lousy life
wasn't going to get any better until I was eighteen and
could go anywhere and do whatever I pleased, Christmas
became increasingly difficult, unpleasant each year. I hated
my parents intensely for abandoning us. It is possible I
could have murdered them both that morning. Instead, with no
coat to ward off the cold, I ran outside into the forest up
the hill from the school and cried, threw anything I could
get my hands on, sticks, stones then handfuls of leaves.

     Benny, who had chased me when I ran outside without a
coat, watched for a while, then shouted, "What the fuck's
wrong with you?"

     I hadn't realized he was there. His words caught me off
guard. I stopped and stared at him for a moment, unsure what
he had said.

     He repeated more calmly, "What's wrong?"

     "Everything," I replied, then cried some more.

     "Shit, Nevie, don't cry. What if somebody sees you.
Shit!"

     I felt an urge, a need to hug my brother, but knew he'd
push me away. We didn't do that kind of thing, had never
received nor given one in my memory. We didn't need anybody.
Sean had told us that lots of times. Hugging was for
sissies. I fell to a sitting position in the leaves and
dirt.

     "Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" I shouted over and over.

     I looked up at Benny. There was a tear in his left eye.
He must have realized it was there and quickly brushed it
away.

     "Fuck "em!" he shouted back at me. "Fuck "em!" He sat
in front of me and said it again, but softer. "Fuck "em all
to hell. Please don't cry, Nevie."

     "Why do we gotta live like this with these fucking,
shit kids telling us what to do, stupid marching? Fuck! Why
can"t we live in a house?"

     "Fuck `em, Nevie. Shit, it's cold! Let's go fuck the
spic."

     Even though I was anything but horny and still hadn't
felt the near freezing temperature, I followed my brother
back to the barracks. Marcelino was nowhere to be found. In
fact, none of the Latino boys were around. Henry Warfield,
about my size but soft, had a soldier set he was playing
with on his bunk. He was a top student in our class. I hated
him for his A's. I grabbed his blanket and yanked up
bouncing his toys all over the floor.

     He stood with his hands on his hips, lips tight
together but not saying a word. He was bigger than me. I
punched him in the gut then pushed him on the floor between
the bunks. We were the only ones in the barracks. Had Benny
not grabbed me from behind and dragged me out of the room, I
might have really hurt poor Henry.

     "You're gonna get a million demerits if you don't take
it easy."

     "Fuck you, Henry!" I shouted over my shoulder.

     "Fuck you! I'm gonna tell the monitor what you did!"

     Benny let go of me and ran back to Henry. He kicked him
in the chest and stood over him. "You fuckened say a
fuckened thing about my brother an' I'll kill your ass!" He
kicked him in the ribs and turned back to me.

     I couldn't see Henry between the bunks but did hear him
moan. Benny pulled me behind him out of the room.

     We tried to find Arnold Detweiler, a boy who, to keep
me as a protector and 'friend', did my English homework and
provided a copy of English tests a couple of days before
they were to be given. Benny figured he was like Marcelino
and we could fuck him. We finally learned that he'd gone off
with the Catholic chaplain and a bunch of others. It
appeared that we were two of only twenty or so kids in the
entire school. Even Sean had gone somewhere.

     "Let's go fuck Henry," I suggested angrily. "It's only
him and that Milton kid and he's too chicken shit to say
anything."

     "Naw, shit, Nevie, he'd say something for that. Shit!
Christmas Day and there's nothing to do." He paused in
thought. "Wait, that teacher I told you about is here. He'll
suck us. You'll like it and we can get him to take us
somewhere. I wanna get the fuck outta here."

     "Nah, let's fuck Milton. He's skinny but ."

     "Shit, Nevie! All you wanna do is fuck somebody.
Getting sucked is as good and we'll make the teach take us
to the city and get some decent food. He's got a car.
C'mon."

     The teacher was my English teacher, the one whose tests
Arnold had always been able to provide. I kicked myself for
not figuring out what had been going on. Mr. Atkins didn't
appear too happy to see me.

     Benny was blunt when he opened the door to his
apartment. "Me and my brother need something bad now and we
wanna go eat somewhere after."

     Mr. Atkins blowjob wasn't as good as Steiner's. Worse,
his whiskers scratched my groin when he took all of me in. I
did get off, though, and, as usual, insisted on a second go
after he finished Benny.

     The teacher tried unsuccessfully to be friendly on the
thirty mile drive to the nearest sizeable town where we ate
in an Italian restaurant. The spaghetti I ordered was a hell
of a lot better than the shit they fed us at Norris. The
milk was cold. The toasted bread was fresh. We had apple pie
with ice cream for desert. My miserable mood gradually
thawed. Mr. Atkins discussed Rudyard Kipling, the author of
a book I was supposed to be reading but was actually having
Arnold do for me. I agreed to everything he said in hopes he
wouldn't pick up on my ignorance. After all, I was an A
student in English, thanks to Arnold's work and crib sheets
for tests.

     Marcelino came back Christmas night just before taps
and went to his bunk where he changed quickly into his
pajamas, again keeping his underwear on. After putting his
clothes into his dresser drawer, he slammed it shut and got
up on and into his bed. I considered hauling him into the
bathroom but was afraid Henry Warfield would snitch me out
because of what I did to him. I wished there was someone I
could hit, hit really hard but fell asleep instead.

     The next morning, I ate breakfast with my brothers
Benny and Sean, again interested in a liaison with
Marcelino.

     Sean elbowed Benny hard and growled, "I told you not to
let him have the spic. Now, he's gonna want it all the
time."

     "Shit, Nevie, he lives right there in your barracks.
Whatta you need me for?"

     "Shit, too, Benny. If I talk to him and someone like
Sanford or Warfield sees me, there's gonna be trouble."

     "Well, I'm not gonna get him every time you got a hard
on. Me and the others set him up, rest is up to you."

     Sean suggested to Benny, "Why not get Benson to blow
him?"

     "Benson isn't gonna suck on a fifth grader."

     "Who's Benson?" I asked.

     "You know him. That fat blonde kid in seventh sitting
over there."

     I looked across the room. Joey Benson was sitting with
three older boys laughing about something. I shook my head.
He was twice my size. Even I knew big kids didn't do smaller
kids. Anyhow, I wanted to fuck and my three inches wouldn't
reach his hole with all that blubber back there.

     Sean and Benny were whispering between themselves.

     "What?" I inquired.

     Sean said, "You gotta keep your trap shut but maybe one
of the profs'll blow ya."

     "Blow me? Who? I don't want that. We did it with Atkins
an', shit, anybody's better'n that."

     "This guy's better at it than Atkins. He likes cute
little kids like you. An' if you take a class with him, you
won't have to study."

     "Shit! I wanna fuck the spic. C'mon! You guys gotta
help me."

     "Shit, Nevie," said Benny frustrated, "where is he?"

     "Right behind you, shithead," I said pointing
surreptitiously across the top of the table.

     My brothers turned in unison to look. Marcelino was
sitting alone with his back to us two tables away.

     "Okay," said Sean, "wait'll he gets up to leave. We'll
take him to the basement so I can do him too. You got me all
horny, you little brat."

     We took our trays to the trash cans, put the plates on
their rack, the utensils in their bin and the trays on the
stainless steel table. Sean went to the condiment table and
snatched up a bottle of salad oil and a handful of napkins.

     Marcelino took his time, not finishing for another ten
to fifteen minutes. He saw us waiting and dropped his head,
stopped as in thought, then continued on to the trash area
beside us.

     "I must go to the clinic right now," he said quietly as
he approached us in the hall just outside the dining room
doors.

     "Shit, too," growled Benny. "Get your ass down to the
basement."

     "The nurse wait for me in the clinic. I."

     Benny walked beside him and grabbed his arm. "Get your
ass down to the basement or you'll need a fuckin' doctor.
I'll tell Jorge to cut you."

     Marcelino yanked his arm loose and changed direction
toward the stairs to the basement.

     We let him get ahead of us. I asked, "Did Jorge stick
him?" Jorge was fourteen and as big as Sean.

     "Shit, yeah. But I don't think he does it any more. Got
some kid in your barracks that's just his. Nobody knows who.
Sneaky bastard."

     After being sure no one was watching, we followed
Marcelino down the wide stairway to the broad basement
hallway where the military recruitment offices were located.
The U.S. Army, Navy, Air Force and Marine Corps each had
small rooms. I'd never heard of anyone using them but
supposed, from rumors, that those rooms were merely an
attempt by the Academy brass to impress, brown-nose was the
term used among other cadets, the U.S. military brass. Next
along the corridor was the 'Armory' where, also not for
sure, there were real weapons as opposed to the poor wooden
facsimiles we carried at drill, including machine guns and
bazookas along with plenty of ammunition placed there in
case of a Communist attack on America. I felt sure that,
were the armament to be handed out, the monitors, cadet
officers and many on the Academy staff would be the first
casualties. My primary targets were already chosen.

     Marcelino waited, his back to us, beside a heavy metal
door with a lock and handle but no knob or latch. Sean
grabbed the handle, yanked it toward the hinge side and gave
the door a sharp hit with his shoulder. It opened wide. I
immediately wondered if that would work on the Armory entry
but my dick was too excited to entertain other adventures.

     Inside were the fabled jail cells where the most
recalcitrant were rumored to be incarcerated for various
lengths of time. We fifth graders were also told that
younger boys were merely whipped. I considered the threat
empty as I'd seen some fairly grievous behavior, like when
one of my barracks mates smashed the glass out of his
classroom windows and tried to cut his teacher with a shard,
punished with demerits, lots of them, to be sure, that could
be marched and worked off on successive Saturdays.

     Marcelino stood beside the lone table fingering his
trousers. The three of us stood in front of him, me with an
obvious roaring hard on.

     He pointed at each of us, saying, "You two are okay but
he is too big. He hurt me." The last remark was directed at
fourteen year old Sean who I assumed to be large between the
legs but hadn't seen bare since he was more my size. I knew
he'd screwed the Colombian before and, at that point, wasn't
concerned about any pain the boy might have to endure. I
just wanted to fuck.

     Sean countered derisively, "What, you some kind of
sissy can't take a little. Oh, that's right, you are a
sissy. Just take your fuckened pants off, kid, and let's get
started. Wait, Benny promised Nevie a blow job, didn't you,
Benny. Tell you what, sissy, you suck us all off, all the
way, and only Nevie'll fuck you. But you gotta take it all.
Okay, sissy?"

     Marcelino's face fell.

     Benny said, "C'mon, Nevie, what're you waiting for." He
jerked the side of my pants.

     A bit disappointed that I wasn't going to be going back
up inside Marcelino's wonderful hole right away but, curious
about what his blow job would be like, I undid my belt and
opened my pants. For a moment, I wondered what was going
through the boy's mind. It would certainly make me look
better were I to tell you I was concerned about the little
Colombian's feelings but my real interest was about the
possibility he'd bite instead of suck me.

     As my pants were dropping, Benny was nudging me
forward. Marcelino dropped too, to his knees, taking my hips
in his hands as he did. My dick was in his hot little mouth
an instant later. I stiffened. It was almost as good as his
butt. Then, I saw a tear drift down his cheek. Before I
could react, not that I would have, he began an aggressive
fellatio. Looking back, he'd probably just decided to get
the matter over with. He was very good, taking me to orgasm
much sooner than I'd have preferred. When I came, my knees
went so weak, I almost fell on top of him.

     My brothers laughed. Benny was along side me, his bare
hip against mine, ready to be ministered to the moment
Marcelino released me, which happened before my climax had
run its course. I felt cheated but let Marcelino move on to
Benny.

     The Colombian started as quickly with Benny as he had
with me but Benny was more experienced. He grabbed the boy's
head. "Slow down," he insisted.

     Marcelino slowed but I could see his cheeks suck in so
guessed he was working harder inside, determined to get away
from us as soon as possible. The tear had dried up but I
could see where there had been one on the other side of his
face too. At the time, it seemed ridiculous to me he'd be so
upset. After all, he was queer, doing what queers liked to
do and didn't have to worry about Sean's big dick up his
ass, just my puny little thing.

     Benny was soon breathing deeply, his finger tips gently
pulling Marcelino's head back to him each time it went away.
Toward the end, Benny pulled more forcefully then grabbed
Marcelino's head and fucked his mouth a half dozen times
before rising up on his toes and holding the boy's face
tight to his crotch.

     "Shit!" he muttered.

     Sean said, "Spic's getting good at this. Lemme get in
there."

     "Wait a minute!" demanded Benny as he quivered and
jerked a few times.

     Marcelino dropped his hands from Benny's hips and
waited along with Sean.

     It was probably a full minute before Benny backed off
to let Sean poke his thick cock in the eleven year old's
face. He was a head taller than Benny and had to pull
Marcelino up by the shirt to get his mouth where it needed
to be. Marcelino ended up on his feet, bent over, his elbows
on his knees. When Marcelino opened up, Sean thrust in.
Marcelino gagged and tried to stand up but Sean grabbed him
by the ears, maintaining a beachhead between his lips. Keep
in mind, being in a military establishment, our hair was
kept quite short, much too short to be grabbed.

     "Suck me, sissy, or I'll ram this thing up your ass!"

     Marcelino closed his eyes, squeezing tears out from
both. It occurred to me that he must have known this was
coming. He took a breath, swallowed and closed his mouth. He
pushed Sean's hands off his head and worked back and forth,
taking in five inches of cock nearly to the pubic hairs.
Sean breathed deeply too but didn't seem nearly as excited
as Benny and I had been.

     Benny leaned to me and said, "He isn't gonna cum in his
mouth. He's gonna stick him. Shit." There was sympathy in
his words but, his face was smiling. "Shit."

     As Benny had predicted, after a few minutes, Sean said,
"C'mon, sissy. You're not even getting me close. Suck
harder. Use your tongue."

     Marcelino did seem to try but I knew Benny was right.
The promise not to screw him had been a sham. Sean had no
intention of getting off in the boy's mouth. I was glad it
was the Colombian on the floor and not me. Nonetheless, I
was anxious for my shot at his ass. I wanted Sean to finish
his scam so I could feel that hot tube around my dick. What
was to happen after was of far less consequence.

     Eventually, Sean pushed his fellator away. "Shit, not
even close."

     Marcelino reached out and pulled him back, taking
Sean's cock back into his mouth, looking up at Sean's face,
pleading with his damp eyes. He was allowed to try a bit
longer but it was for naught. We knew Sean wanted to stick
him. The pain he'd have to endure wasn't of importance to
any of us.

     Sean pulled away again, this time pushing Marcelino's
head back and turning away.

     "Nevie, you're first."

     Marcelino glared at Sean through his tears. My hard
cock, as the saying goes, had no conscience. Marcelino
knocked Benny's hands away when he reached for his belt. The
Colombian stood and deliberately opened his belt then pants,
never taking his eyes off Sean. There were no more tears,
just hatred. But, he didn't seem the type to take revenge
afterward.

     His pants fell. He turned and leaned over the table,
his face in his hands. I dripped saliva on my cock and got
in behind him. He was too low.

     "Get up higher," ordered Sean.

     Marcelino leaned across the table, raising his ass. His
hole was there for the taking. I moved in, used one hand to
pull one cheek open and guided my cock with the other. Entry
was swift and fantastic, better than the blow job. I
shuffled in tighter and started a slow fuck.

     "See, I told you," said Benny to Sean as both watched
me pump in and out, "Nevie learns fast. Do it, Nevie! Fuck
him good!"

     Marcelino's slim bare hips were soft and smooth in my
hands, like a baby's. It heightened my enjoyment to hold
him. I pushed up as well as in each time. The great feeling
spread back into my ass. I completely forgot the tears I'd
seen. My mind was engrossed in the physical sensation of my
cock sliding in and out of the hot, slippery rectum. The
closer I got, the more I leaned over him, the warmth of his
back against my groin and gut enhancing my passion. My hands
slid up and over his shoulders until I was nearly lying on
top of him. Orgasm shot out of my pelvis and up through my
cock. Marcelino's right hand came up and pressed down on
mine. I hardly noticed it. My brain was occupied with the
ecstasy flowing from my groin into my entire body.

     When I looked up, Benny was across the table, grinning.
He winked and took hold of both of Marcelino's hands,
pulling them to him. I felt Sean tugging on my shirt. His
pants were off. His cock rock hard and slick with salad oil.
I stood. My stiff dick popped out. Sean slipped in front of
me and yanked Marcelino's hips higher.

     I felt a sudden, strange urge to stop or at least slow
him but just stepped back, away from what was about to
happen.

     "Now," said Sean quietly, "don't go making any noise
and I'll go in slow."

     Sean pushed his big cock head between Marcelino's
cheeks. "Relax, spic, and it won't hurt all that bad."

     He poked forward and moved in closer. Benny gripped
Marcelino's hands tighter. Sean pushed again.

     Marcelino went, "Mmmph! Stop. Please stop. Wait."

     Sean ignored him and poked forward again. Marcelino
grunted then cried in short spurts. Sean stepped closer
still and pushed forward. His cock disappeared between
Marcelino's cheeks. The crying became louder. Sean leaned
over and put his hand over the boy's mouth.

     "Shut up, sissy. I'm in. Isn't gonna hurt that much any
more. Damn, you're a sissy!"

     Marcelino didn't stop crying. It was just muffled by my
brother's hand. Sean
pulled nearly completely out then, without stopping, pushed
all the way back in. I began to worry he was injuring the
boy, causing damage that would end up in the clinic and
eventually get the three of us in big trouble, maybe locked
up in the cells across the room, perhaps even whipped.
Although I had some understanding of the pain Marcelino had
to be going through, my primary concern was for myself and
my brothers. My cock went soft.

     Sean continued the same steady thrusting and
withdrawal. Marcelino's body rocked with his sobbing. Sean's
eyes closed. "Oh man, that's good. Keep doing that. Shit!"

     I have no idea how long he fucked the boy. I became
mesmerized by the sight of that long, thick, shiny shaft
sliding seemingly effortlessly in and out of Marcelino's
ass.

     Then Marcelino let out a muffled cry and began to
struggle to free his hands from Benny's grip. Sean rammed in
hard, stopped, pulled out and rammed back in several times,
each thrust drawing a shriek from Marcelino.

     Sean's body shook a few times then, "Whew, that's the
best fuck I ever had."

     He went in and out a few times more, making Marcelino
sob continuously. Finally, he stood up and let his body
drift back until his still hard cock flipped up as it came
free. Benny released Marcelino's hands. The boy lay on the
table sobbing softly.

     Benny rushed around the table and pulled Marcelino's
ass open with both hands. The boy jumped up. Benny pushed
him back down.

     "Shit, spic, I'm just looking."

     Marcelino relaxed but didn't stop crying. Benny raised
and lowered his head inches away from the penetrated anus.
"Looks okay to me but you're sure gonna shit easier."

     I had an urge to look too but, despite Benny
assurances, was afraid of what I might see. It didn't seem
possible Sean's big cock hadn't done some damage. And
Marcelino had obviously been hurting from something.

     Sean tossed a few napkins on the table. "There you go,
spic. Clean yourself up. And don't worry. I'm not gonna fuck
you any more. I got someone's not a big sissy like you."

     What little concern I felt for poor Marcelino
evaporated in the wave of curiosity about who Sean was
screwing.

     The moment we were in the corridor, I asked, "Who you
sticking, Sean?"

     "Shit, Nevie, whatta you care. You got the spic."

     "Just who is it?"

     "He's too big for you."

     "But who is it, c'mon?" I poked him on the arm.

     "You're just gonna wanna stick him too and he's in
seventh so he won't."

     "Unless you tell him he's gotta."

     "See, Nevie. You wanna stick him too. So forget it."

     I begged a bit longer but Sean never gave up the name.
The moment we were alone, I asked Benny.

     "How'm I supposed to know. He didn't tell me neither."

     We went to the stables to see if we could do something
with the horses. Neither of us had any real friends, just
lots of frightened acquaintances like Arnold Detweiler.

     Mr. Belfiss, the stable master, was the closest thing I
had to a friend at the Academy. Although fifth and sixth
graders weren't supposed to ride the horses for some reason
I never understood, he let me groom, feed them and help
clean out the stalls. Occasionally, he'd allow me to saddle
one gentle steed named Balfour and ride him inside the
corral.

     "You two help me clean up this morning and, after
lunch, you can ride with me out to the pasture for a while.
Gotta fix the far fence."

     Benny wasn't as interested in horses as me but had
nothing else to do. We spent the rest of the day there,
sharing sandwiches Mr. Belfiss brought from the kitchen for
lunch.

          We spent the next day too at the stables. Benny
was even less enthused than the day before but, as I pointed
out, neither of us had any real friends, just fearful
acquaintances. Benny did have a strange relationship with
his even stranger classmate Jorge De La Cruz but he was back
in Peru for the holidays.

     By lunch time, Benny was sticking one of the horses in
the ass with a pitchfork handle. Mr. Belfiss was off getting
us our lunches. The horse didn't like it a bit and kicked at
the walls of his stall. Benny laughed and stuck him again.

     "Benny, stop!" I said with alarm in my heart, "he's
gonna kick down the walls and kills us."

     "He isn't gonna do shit, 'cept shit."

     The horse turned around and eyed Benny fearfully.

     "See, he's scared a me."

     He pushed the handle up at the horses nose. "Here,
horsey, sniff your own ass."

     Mr. Belfiss opened the door. Benny dropped the
pitchfork. That was the end of that.

     When dinner time neared, Benny headed off to find Sean
and I went to the dormitory to wash up. Marcelino joined me
in the bathroom. The moment we were alone, he approached me.
It made me harden.

     "Neville, you want to do something after dinner?" he
asked softly though not shyly.

     I was immediately suspicious. Was someone listening or
watching us? I looked around but saw no one.

     "Don't worry, it's just you and I," he said.

     "You want me to stick you?"

     His conspiratorial expression turned to confusion.
"What? No, the other thing."

     "Suck?"

     He nodded assent. "Maybe tomorrow we can do back here.
I hurt there now."

     I was still a bit concerned but beginning to believe
that, being a queer, he naturally just wanted me to do what
queers liked.

     "Where?" I inquired as coolly as I could.

     "Wherever you want, but just us."

     Suspicion again picked at my brain. I wanted backup.
"And Benny. He isn't all that big." I assumed he wouldn't
want Sean.

     His head drooped. He sighed, leaned forward and said
quietly, "Why can't just you and I do it?" It was close to a
plea but didn't make any sense to me.

     If he wanted to get a dick in his mouth, wouldn't two
be better than one?

     He lifted his face to mine, only inches away. "Please.
Just this time?"

     "Why not Benny?"

     He sighed again and answered to my chin, "I like how
you do it better."

     That boosted my ego enough to say, "Okay, but just
once."

     We brothers ate together, the one privilege we got out
of holidays. Normally, we had to eat with our barracks
mates. Benny repeated his oft expressed desire that the
carnage still be going on in Vietnam when he turned
seventeen so he could kill some "yellow pinkos". He figured
new weaponry would allow him to massacre great numbers in a
few minutes time. Sean doubted it would go on very long.

     "The Americans got really good advisors teaching the
gooks how to fight the Commies and keeping them from being
so chicken shit. Few more months and they'll wipe the
Commies out."

     I said little, feeling guilty about not letting my
brother in on the sexual fun I expected after dinner. My
uneasiness was tempered by the suspicion that he had another
boy or two he hadn't told me about. I expected they were
more his age and probably wouldn't have allowed an eleven
year old inside them. However, as we left the table, my
control fell apart.

     "Marcelino wants to suck me, but just me."

     Benny shrugged his shoulders. "So do it. I don't give a
shit."

     "How come he just wants me?"

     "So how'm I supposed to know that. Mr. Atkins says
you're almost a pretty as me. Maybe the spic's in love with
you." He laughed.

     "You don't think maybe he's planning something. Maybe
he won't be alone or, shit, I don't know."

     "What? You afraid of some spic? Want me to make sure he
doesn't hurt you? Shit, Nevie. Just stick him. What's he
gonna do? He's a fag. He likes dicks."

     "So where can I do it? In the school?"

     He thought the school was a good idea.

     Marcelino was waiting in the hall outside our barracks.
He seemed anxious, and a bit put out. I was anxious too, and
quickly stiff between the legs.

     "You told Benny, didn't you? I just want to do it with
you."

     "Just go to the school, fifth grade like last time.
Benny isn't coming." I immediately wished I hadn't mentioned
I'd be alone. There was still a small worry he was planning
something I wouldn't like.

     I watched him go, fingering my hard on through my pants
pocket. Arnold, Henry and two others were on their beds. All
avoided my eyes. Arnold was lying belly down on his bed,
supposedly reading a book. I figured he was just trying to
avoid me. I checked out his ass and considered the
possibility that he could be fucked without any
repercussions. He didn't really act like Marcelino or the
others like him but he was definitely a sissy and was
probably being sucked by Mr. Atkins, maybe sucking him back.

     Marcelino didn't just have his pants down when I
arrived. He was stone cold naked. He didn't even have his
socks on. He stood with his arms crossed, watching as I
looked around, checked out the storage closet in the back of
the classroom.

     "Oh, Neville. It's just us."

     I loosened my belt and walked to him beside the
teacher's desk.

     "Take all your clothes off too. It feels better that
way."

     "Just suck me, spic. Shit. How come you don't wanna get
fucked. Been two days. Can't hurt that much any more."

     "Well, it does. And you're going to like this. Take
your pants off so I can do it really good."

     "Why? C'mon. Just suck my dick." I stood with my pants
at half mast and my arms folded across my chest.

     Marcelino sighed and went to his knees. He took my hips
in his hands and licked the bottom of my cock. It was nice
but I hadn't the patience for nice.

     "Shit, spic, suck me!"

     He took me in to my balls. That was the nice I really
wanted. As he began to move my dick around inside his mouth,
his hand slid around to my butt. I yanked them off and
smacked him softly on the side of the head.

     "I don't want any queer shit. Just suck me and hurry
up. Do it right!"

     Marcelino sighed again, this time through his nose. His
whole mouth tightened around my cock. He moved his head back
and forth. The feeling was as close to being up his ass as
it could get without actually being there. A minute later,
with my hands on his shoulders to keep from falling forward,
I came.

     I gripped his head to me with one hand and enjoyed the
continued gentle throbbing. I hadn't noticed that Marcelino
had again taken my hips into his hands and was holding on
lightly. It didn't bother me too much. I knew I wanted a
second go, but not yet.

     I straightened up and released his head. He kept me
inside his mouth. It was starting to tickle so I pulled
loose.

     "Don't you want to do it again? You always like to do
it twice," commented Marcelino as friendly as a puppy.

     "Yeah. Just wait a minute."

     I wanted to relax for a few moments. Marcelino wanted
to talk.

     "Why can't we be friends, Neville. We can do this
whenever you want and we can teach each other our languages.
I can teach you how to speak Spanish so you will understand
what the other Latino boys are saying."

     It was an interesting thought but I wasn't about to
show any interest. There was no way I could allow myself to
be friends with somebody everyone knew was a queer.

     "Want to be friends, Neville?" he asked again.

     "Shut up, spic."

     I felt the need to assert my power over him to
eliminate any thoughts he was having about friendship or
equality. I rubbed my dick to be sure it was ready and said
gruffly, "I'm gonna stick you this time so get on the desk."

     I pushed him toward the teacher's desk.

     He stepped back and said, "No, Neville. I told you. It
still hurts there from your big brother."

     "You're just a big sissy. Turn around and lay down." I
pushed him again.

     "Why are you so bad to me, Neville. I want to be
your.."

     "I said shut up, spic. Just lay down. Shit!" I poked
him hard in the shoulder with the palm of my hand, knocking
him back against the desk. Before he could say or resist, I
yanked him around with pushed him down. His ass popped up in
the air. I held him down with one hand and dripped spit into
the other. After a quick lube job on my cock, I spit into my
hand again and rubbed the saliva between his cheeks. It was
done to avoid doing any further damage to his hole. When I
thought about it afterward, I wasn't sure what my real
motivation was, fear of doing something that might get me
into trouble or some dash of sympathy for the pain he'd have
if I did less. Naturally, I quickly rejected the latter.

     His hole didn't look any worse for the wear when I
pulled his cheek back. Entry was swift and easy.
Nonetheless, there were tears on his arm where his face lay
against it. It took me a while. His hole didn't seem as
tight as it had been before. And, there was anger. I had
looked forward to two pleasant orgasms then Marcelino had
started with his `friends' shit. All he had to do was shut
up and suck me. The rest was a distraction from the real
purpose of what we were doing. It took hard thrusting and
longer than I could remember to finally get off. Marcelino
just lay there as I pounded away. There were no more words,
even when I pulled out and left.

     The climax only deadened my anger. The residue of
emotional discomfort stayed with me as I looked for Benny.