Date: Wed, 25 Jun 2014 22:56:04 -0700
From: Douglas DD DD <thehakaanen@hotmail.com>
Subject: The Puget Posse  Chapter 13

Welcome back. The first day of orientation at the Puget Academy is
over. This chapter is about the reaction of Misha, Patrick, Neville, and
the twins to that first day.

All disclaimers apply, like they always had and always will.

Please donate to the Nifty Archive. Every dollar counts.

Email is always appreciated. thehakaanen@hotmail.com


CHAPTER 13
LIFE AT HOME

The five boys from table five went home to their families. They told
varying stories and had varying thoughts about how the day had
gone. But, the one thing they had in common was their eagerness to
return; their first day at the Puget Academy had left a positive
impression with them.

++++++++++++

Patrick was greeted by Grannana when he came into the house
through the back door. Uncle Ted had picked him up and was putting
his car into the garage. "Well, here comes our little student. How was
the first day in academia? Have you learned all you need to know to
enter the university?"

Patrick gave her a tight hug, then stood on tiptoe and gave her a kiss
on her left cheek. Even at an even four feet in height, Patrick didn't
have to stretch much to reach his great-grandmother's cheek.
"Grannana, today wasn't a school day, it was orientation. And I am
only going into fifth grade. I'll never learn enough for the university,
not this year."

"Well, Paddy dearest, you must have learned something."

"I did. I learned how to get around the school. We played the funnest
game to teach us."

"There is no such word as funnest. It would be `most fun', my dear,
not funnest,"

Patrick ignored the correction and asked what was for dinner; not that
he couldn't tell from the fragrant aroma permeating the kitchen.

"We will be having spaghetti and meatballs, as I am sure your very
sensitive nose told you."

"I can't fool you, can I, Grannana?"

"A little wombat like you will never fool a wise old woman."

Patrick flashed his trademark grin and said, "But, I can always try."

The old lady returned his hug and said, "Yes, you can always try."

That evening at dinner, Brian, Grannana, and Ted listened with great
patience as Patrick excitedly told them about his day, pausing only
long enough to suck in strands of spaghetti or dive into a meatball.

"The kids at my table were pretty cool, which is good because Mr.
Jackson said our teams are going to have to work together all the
way to winter break before we could make changes, so we better
learn how to get along."

"Do you think you guys will get along?" Brian asked.

"I don't know. The twins are really cool. They are super friendly and
talk a lot, but they like to argue with each other. They play soccer and
baseball and basketball and want to play football. Mikhail is really
quiet, but he did say we can call him Misha. He's from Russia. I like
him a lot and I hope we can be friends. Neville is like a snob and
everything. He's from England and you can tell when he talks."

"Well, nobody is perfect," Brian observed.

"He made fun of me being Irish, even though I have never been to
Ireland in my life."

"I hope you dished it right back on him," Ted said.

"I tried. I think he thinks he's better than me because he's got lots of
money and I don't and go to school on a scholarship."

"Well, dear, we all know that the world doesn't turn on money,"
Grannana said.

"Unless you don't have it," Brian said.

"Mr. Jackson says we need to come up with a name for our team. We
can't just be a number, we have to have a name."

"Do you have any ideas?"

"Nope, but I've been thinking hard about it. We'll come up with
something good."

That night, after his father tucked him into bed, Patrick thought about
his first day. While it wasn't a perfect day, it had been a good one. He
liked the boys in his group. The twins were really nice and were
funny. He really liked Misha, and hoped they could become friends.
He wasn't sure what to make of Neville, but he seemed to be okay.
He was excited about returning for the second day of orientation. He
had a feeling he was going to like the Puget Academy.

++++++++++++

Mrs. Pettigrew picked Neville up at school since no transportation
was provided for orientation. She dropped him off at his house and
left for home.

When Neville arrived home, Maria, the cook, was busily preparing
dinner. "Hello, Neville," she said as the ten-year-old peeked into the
kitchen.

"What are we having for dinner?" Neville asked. Maria noticed his
failure to return her greeting. While she liked the ebullient Dylan, she
did not care for Neville, whom she saw as condescending and rude.

"Meatloaf."

"I like chicken better." His words had no effect on Maria. Neville never
seemed satisfied with the menu. She was certain that if she had been
cooking chicken, he would have asked for meatloaf.

Neville went to his room, wondering if Dylan was home. His step-
brother's bedroom door was open, but the room was empty. Neville
went into his own room, stripped down to his underpants and flopped
onto his bed. He thought about his first day of orientation and the
boys in his table group.

He did not like the twins. They were noisy and much too full of
themselves. He didn't like how they teased him about his accent. He
was upset that he was going to be stuck with them until Christmas
break came. To Neville, that was simply unacceptable. Misha
seemed to be okay, but it was hard to tell, and his being a Russian
didn't help his cause much. He seemed to be really quiet, which
made him the opposite of the twins. Patrick appeared to be really
friendly, but he had an attitude, mostly because he was proud of
being Irish.

Neville thought about jerking off, but wasn't in the mood. He didn't like
the fact that there were no girls at the school. Not that he would know
what to do if there had been a girl there, but he at least liked to think
he did. After all, he did have some experience. He was certain the
other four boys were not nearly as worldly as he was when it came to
sex. He was willing to bet none of them wanked, and if they did they
certainly didn't wank with another boy like he did. His experiences
with Kathy and with Dylan and his friends convinced Neville he was
much more knowing than his four table partners.

He fell asleep and woke up when he heard Dylan and somebody
outside of this room. Not bothering to dress, he got up and opened
the door. He was not surprised to see that the other person was
Cody.

"Hey, Neville," Cody said, looking at the slender ten-year old dressed
in just his white briefs. Neville said nothing, but simply nodded. Cody
turned to Dylan and said, "Looks like your brother is ready for some
action."

"No," Neville protested, "I was just taking a nap. I wanted to see who
was here with Dylan."

"Who did you expect it to be?" Dylan asked.

"I assumed it was you, Cody."

"I love how you talk," Cody said.

After putting up with the twins' comments on his so-called accent all
morning, he glared at Cody and said, "That is bloody stupid. I don't
have an accent. Fuck you." He returned to his room, slamming the
door behind him.

"Whoa, dude, your brother said `fuck'," Cody said. "Is that awesome
or what?"

"It makes him sound human," Dylan agreed.

"Do we have time to play around?" Cody asked.

"If we hurry."

"What about doofus?"

"He can come join us if he wants. But, I think he likes getting all pissy
better than doing anything."

"Better than sex?"

"Must be because he's from England...I dunno."

Cody and Dylan retired to Dylan's room, while Neville lay on his bed
and sulked. He finally got up and turned on his computer, looking for
something to do.

Dylan and Cody might have been just eleven and in sixth grade, but
they were already finding it difficult to think of anything better than
sex, unless it was food. Their session in Dylan's bedroom that
afternoon did little to dispel that notion.

Maria had the dinner finished in time for the family to eat as soon as
Reginald arrived home. He was delayed some by traffic, but not
enough to throw off the schedule of the efficient cook. While she was
welcome to eat her prepared meal, Maria usually left as soon as she
had cleaned the kitchen in order to be with her own family.

Reginald asked Neville how the first day of orientation had gone.

"It was exactly like Dylan said it would be," Neville replied.

"I told you I knew what I was talking about," Dylan said. "What was
your table team like?"

"Mostly stupid. There are two twins at the table, and I do not know
how they passed the entrance test. They do not seem to know much
about anything except for sports and how to try to be clowns. They
certainly do not know proper English."

"Neither do you, since if you have twins there has to be two of them,"
Reginald said.

Neville felt his face flush at his father's rebuke, but went on. "Then
there is Mikhail, who calls himself Misha, but I can't tell why. He is
from Russia and was adopted. We all know what adopted kids are
like."

"We do?" Shelly asked, challenging Neville to tell her what they were
like.

Neville could feel his face flush again. "Yes, we do. I knew a couple in
England and they were very lower class."

"Sorry to hear that," Shelley said. She was trying hard to keep Neville
from having the same annoying sense of superiority his upper-crust
father had. "I have known children and adults who were adopted and
they seemed like perfectly fine people to me." Reginald pointedly said
nothing, since he approved of where his son was coming from.

"Does he have an accent?" Dylan asked. "I think those kinds of
accents sound really cool, like they're foreign spies or something."

"I think he does, but everybody says that I am the one with the
accent."

"Obviously uneducated sorts," Reginald said.

"Reggie, they are only ten years old."

"One is nine," Neville said. "Patrick skipped a grade and is only nine.
Plus, he said he was Irish."

"Irish?" Reginald said. "Odd that he should skip a grade, I don't fancy
the Irish being that intelligent."

"Reggie!" Shelley said. Somehow, the dinner conversation was
getting out of hand.

"I am merely pointing out a fact."

"How did you like Mr. Jackson?" Dylan asked. "Is he cool, or what?"

"A teacher shouldn't be telling jokes," Neville said. "He is supposed to
be a teacher and not a comedian. I don't like him."

"I can see about changing classes if you wish." Reginald said.

"How was your day, Dylan?" Shelly asked, quickly steering the
conversation into a different direction.

Dylan talked about what he did, leaving out the blow job he'd given
Cody. Cody talked about his day as well. The boys had spent the day
at the Fitness Club with two other friends, swimming, playing hoops,
and taking handball lessons. The mother of one of the boys had
provided the transportation. He didn't say that he found Dylan's family
to be a bit weird at times.

"Thank you for the dinner, Ms. Carlson," Cody said. Shelley kept her
maiden name after marrying Reginald.

"Are you spending the night?" Neville asked, hoping the answer was
yes. He was suddenly in the mood for doing something sexy.

"No. We're going to the ocean for Labor Day and are leaving
tomorrow morning." Both Dylan and Cody noticed Neville's
disappointment.

That night, Neville expected Dylan to come into his bedroom. He
wasn't disappointed when the door opened a few minutes after their
parents put them to bed. The light from the hall showed Dylan to be
naked.

"You acted like you were horny at dinner," Dylan said.

"I was."

"Let's jerk off together." Dylan knew better than to mince words with
Neville.

Neville turned on his desk lamp so he could watch his step-brother
and pulled away the covers. He was also naked. The two lay side-by-
side on Neville's bed, jerking their hairless little boners. Not for the
first time Dylan wondered what the difference was between beating
his own meat alone or doing it with Neville. He couldn't think of much
difference other than doing it with Neville was a little bit sexier. But
the real fun was doing it to somebody else and having somebody else
do it you, which Neville refused to do.

Dylan knew that Neville had to get over his hang-ups, but he didn't
know how to make it happen. He badly wanted to touch Neville's
uncut boner. He badly wanted to go even farther and masturbate his
brother's three inch uncut rod. And he badly wanted to have Neville's
hand around his preteen cock, lying back while his step-brother made
him cum. Those were the fantasies in his mind as he had an
enjoyable, but not a mind blowing, dry orgasm.

Neville was thinking of his two nights with Kathy the baby-sitter as he
used his thumb and index finger to stimulate himself. Even with his
thoughts on a girl, he couldn't help but steal glances at his step-
brother as he busily masturbated himself. Neville found his quiet
grunts and moans to be stimulating. Dylan squeaked, raising his hips
as he started fucking his small fist.  Seeing Dylan having his orgasm
set Neville off and his body shook with his own dry cum.

Quite often, after satisfying himself, Neville told himself the whole
process was stupid. This was one of those times. "Okay, you can go
now," he told Dylan.

Dylan was used to these sudden mood changes. "Okay, bro, But
there's more to it than just jerking yourself off, you know."

"Good night." Neville turned his back to Dylan, indicating that the
conversation was over. Dylan shook his head and returned to his own
bedroom.

Neville faced the dark wall and thought about his day. His father had
offered to see about him changing teachers. He'd never had a
chance to reply. He wasn't going to ask him to do that yet, but he
planned to remember his father's offer. Besides, he could end up in
the same class as Jeremiah. As much as he didn't care for his table
team, he found himself a bit frightened by the big ten-year-old.

++++++++++++

Mikhail dug into his beef stew. He knew his mother was the one of
the best cooks in the United States. If nobody else knew that fact it
was only because they had never tasted her cooking. But then, after
some of the meals at the orphanage, Mikhail considered a burger at
McDonald's to be gourmet fare.

"So, Misha, the first day at school went well I take it," Mikhail's father,
Ryan, said. Mikhail had met with Olga, his tutor, after coming home
from school, and told her about his day.  He also told Lois, his
mother, as she prepared dinner, but he knew his father would want to
hear his story as well.

"Yes, sir, it went very well, thank you."

"Tell me what the best part of the day was."

"Meeting my table team."

"What, pray tell, is a table team?"

Mikhail told his father about his table, about the scavenger hunt,
about Paul, their guide, and about Mr. Jackson. He didn't mention
Jeremiah, whom he considered to be inconsequential.

He told his father about the wild and crazy twins, about Neville who
everybody thought was the one with an accent. He also told them
about Patrick. "I hope we can be friends," he said matter-of-factly. He
didn't say that about the other three boys at the table. "One of the
things we must come up with is a name for our team. I was hoping
very much to have an idea tomorrow."

"Do any thoughts come to your mind?" Ryan asked.

"No. I do not think I know English good enough yet for ideas."

"You don't know it well enough, sweetie," Lois said. "You don't know
English well enough yet." Between Olga, Lois, and less frequently,
Ryan, Mikhail was slowly refining his English skills.

"That is why I don't have any ideas," Mikhail said. "I still need to learn
that good and well are much different."

"Can you use the name of the school as part of the name of your
team?" Ryan asked.

"I think so."

"Then think about how you can make that work."

Mikhail ate a couple of spoonfuls of stew as he worked that thought
over in his mind. "Maybe we be the Puget Team," he said. Lois
ignored the grammatical slip. She didn't want to interrupt his train of
thought. Having him come up with an original idea was more
important at the moment than having perfect syntax. While Misha had
become much improved at using English, when he got nervous he
would often make errors.

"That's a start," Ryan said.

"It does not sound good in my head," Mikhail said.

"Think of some other names for team, Misha, honey," Lois said. "See
if you can find one that sounds right in your head."

Mikhail ate in silence. He came up with the Puget Group but
immediately rejected it. He emptied his bowl, sopping up the last bits
with a piece of French bread. "Olga showed me places where I can
look to find words," Mikhail said.

"Where would that be?" Lois asked.

"One is a theser...thesa...it sounds like dinosaur."

"That would be a thesaurus," Ryan said. "An excellent idea."

Mikhail thought it was an excellent idea as well, but he thought a bowl
heated peach cobbler was an even better idea, especially with a
scoop of ice cream on it. After dessert, he went to his room and
pulled his thesaurus off of his shelf. Olga had shown him how to find
a thesaurus on his computer, but he wanted to get used to using
books to find things out. "Books first" was what Olga and his parents
both preached.

He spent five minutes looking through the book. His eyes kept
returning to one word. He was certain it was the right one, but a lack
of confidence seeped into his mind. He was afraid that maybe he
didn't understand the word as well as he thought he did. The best
way to find out if he was right would be to tell his idea to his parents.
He knew they would be accepting of his idea, but would also let him
know if it wasn't what he thought it was. He would rather be wrong in
front of his parents than be wrong in front of the twins, and especially
in front of Neville.

He felt intimidated by the aloofness of Neville and the brashness of
Mark and Mattie. He worried about not being accepted and sitting
alone and apart from the group. He could feel his confidence starting
to lag. He felt terribly lonely and placed his hand on his uncut boy
cock and started playing with it. He loved the sense of comfort he got
by manipulating his penis and his tight little testicles.

His thoughts of Patrick were much different than those he had of the
other three boys. Patrick appealed to him like no other boy had since
he'd left Nikki at the orphanage. He usually waited until he was in bed
naked before masturbating, but thinking of Patrick had made him
incredibly horny.

Misha had a huge boy crush on Patrick. Patrick said we could call
him Paddy, Misha thought. That's what I want to call him, and I want
him to call me Misha instead of Mikhail. He took off his clothes and
started to masturbate. He jerked his thick, three inch uncut cock with
his left hand and rubbed his chest and belly with his right. He loved
the sensations he evoked when he touched himself. One of the few
things he missed from the orphanage was receiving the touches of
his fellow orphans. He missed having someone to share his bed. He
thought about Patrick being next to him as he masturbated to a
satisfactory dry cum.

Misha put on a pair of sweats, but no shirt, and headed downstairs to
tell his parents what he'd come up with. "I have a name," he informed
them as he entered the TV room.

"Tell us what it is, sweetie," Lois said. "Your father and I would love to
hear it."

"We could be a posse. A posse is a group. The dictionary says a
posse is a group...," he fought to remember what he had read before
his session on his bed. "...it is a group with a purpose...a common
purpose." He grinned after he finished giving the definition.

"Very good, Misha," Lois said. "So, you're going to be The Posse."

Misha had a rare moment of impatience, and then said, "No.
Remember what father said about using the name of the school?"

Ryan's face lit up with a smile. "Perfect, son, absolutely perfect."

Lois feigned ignorance and said, "I'm still not sure I understand." She
wanted Misha to say it, as did Ryan, who obviously knew what Misha
was thinking.

"Puget Posse, mother. We can be the Puget Posse."

"Oh, very good, I love it." She gave Misha an approving smile,
followed by a hug.

"What if the team doesn't like it?" he asked. Overall, Misha was a
confident boy, but that confidence was often tempered by a fear of
rejection.

"Then you just live with the knowledge that your idea is better than
theirs, even if they didn't recognize it as such," Ryan said.

Misha grinned and hugged his father, getting a tight hug and a noogie
in return.

After being tucked into his bed later that evening, Misha tossed and
turned. He thought his idea was a good one, but was afraid Neville
and the twins would find a lot of reasons not to like it. He had a
feeling Patrick would like it. He wasn't sure why he thought that way,
but in his gut he thought Patrick would be in his corner. But, that still
left him having to figure out a way to convince Neville and the twins.
Maybe Patrick could help him do that.

Misha wanted to be held. He wanted to feel somebody next to him.
There were four other boys on his table team, but, after one day, he
felt distant from them, even Patrick, who he couldn't get out of his
mind. He pulled off his covers, grabbed the boxers he kept next to his
bed at night and went to his parents' bedroom. They didn't like him
coming into their bed naked, so he wore the boxers as a compromise.

He entered their room and could see them on their big bed. He
searched for the available space, his eyes straining in the dark. There
was room between the two of them. He picked up the extra pillow that
was always at the foot of the bed. He crawled between the two
sleeping adults, trying unsuccessfully not to wake them. He managed
to squeeze down inside the covers, placing his pillow between his
parents' heads.

Ryan's arm was suddenly around his shoulder. Misha felt safe and
loved. The touch of his father's arm sent feelings of warmth through
him. He was safe. Nobody was going to leave him to be by himself, at
least not on this night. He quickly fell asleep.

++++++++++++

Much to the chagrin of their sisters, the twins dominated the family
dinner table with their excited talk of the first orientation day at the
Puget Academy.

"Did you make lots of good friends?" Kristy, their mother, asked.

"Not yet, but we're working on it," Matthew said.

"What's taking you so long?" Michelle said sarcastically.

"Right now we're getting to know our table team since we gotta do
stuff together," Mark said, ignoring his sister.

"Are they nice boys?" Kristy asked.

"I guess. But they're weird," Mark said.

"You would know," Megan said.

"Yeah, two of them got accents. They're from England and Russia,"
Matthew said.

"But the one from Russia doesn't have much of one."

"The dude from England sure does."

For Scott, Kristy, and the sisters, listening to the twins was
sometimes like trying to follow a ping-pong game.

"Tomorrow we get to learn about sports at the school," Matthew said.

"Yeah, and learn why they suck so bad," Mark said.

"The only bad thing is Jeremiah is there," Matthew said.

"But, he's not in our class."

"Thank you, Lord," Matthew murmured.

"Matthew, please be respectful," Kristy said.

"I was being respectful. Since when is saying thank you not
respectful?"

"Was the thanks really necessary?" Kristy asked. "If Jeremiah had
been placed in your class, what would you have said then?"

"I wouldn't have said nothing," Matthew said. "I would have waited for
a chance to give him a bloody nose."

"Matthew, please, that is not something to say at the dinner table,"
Scott said.

"Mom asked what I would do, and I couldn't lie to her could I?"

All Kristy could do was mutter a quiet "Why me?" as she shoveled a
bite of her pork chop into her mouth.

Conversation at the dinner table managed to stabilize for awhile as
the twins concentrated on their food. While they were still ten year old
preteens, they were developing a teenage-sized appetite. However,
long periods of silence were not part of their makeup.

"I think our table team could be very cool," Mark said out of the blue.
"Patrick is only nine and is really smart because he skipped a grade."

"And Neville is smart because he's from England," Matthew added.

"What does being from England have to do with being smart?" Megan
asked.

"Everything. The English invented a lot of stuff," Matthew said.

"Like what?" Michelle asked.

After a momentary silence, Matthew knocked his head with his fist
and said, "Like gravity."

It was all Scott could do not to spit out the food in his mouth.

"Gravity? That is the stupidest thing I ever heard," Michelle said.
"Nobody invented gravity. It's a natural thing that's always been
there,"

"Tell that to that Newton guy after the apple fell on his head," Mark
said as he defended his brother.

"You two are so dumb," Megan said, earning her a glare from both
parents.

"We have to give our team a name," Matthew said, not surprising
anyone at the table by suddenly shifting subjects.

"Do you have one in mind?" Kristy asked.

"Me and Mattie have decided we're going to be the Fabulous Five,"
Mark said.

"That's because there are five of us," Matthew added in case nobody
caught the connection.

"And we are fabulous," Mark said.

"Fabulous might fit the other three," Michelle said, "but it sure doesn't
fit you two." She caught herself before adding the word morons to the
end of the sentence.

"When we get done we'll all be fabulous," Mark insisted

"And it is an alliteration," Matthew said, "and alliterations are cool."

Both Scott and Kristy smiled at Matthew's use of alliteration. For all of
their seeming nonsense, the twins were a bright pair of boys, even
though they often did their best to hide the fact.

"Ooohhh, listen to the little boys and their big words," Michelle said.

"That's enough Michelle," Kristy said, causing Michelle to go into a
brief adolescent sulk.

"What if somebody has a different name to propose?" Scott asked.
"How will your team decide?"

"They'll decide by picking our name," Mark said.

"Yeah," Matthew agreed, "nobody will have a better one."

"And nobody is going to have an alliteration," Mark said.

"Is that a requirement?" Scott asked.

"It is with me and Mark," Matthew said.

That night, Mark crawled into Matthew's bed. The two ten-year-olds
were naked, as they always were when they went to bed.

"I wish our lame sisters would still let us go into their bed with them,"
Matthew said.

"Yeah, then they could jerk us off," Mark said.

"Or suck us off."

"I guess we'll just have to do it to each other."

"Do you want to jerk or suck?"

"Sucking sounds good."

"Do you think Paul will really make us measure our dicks?" Mark
asked.

"I hope so. That will be fun. We can win all of that other team's
credits."

"Their guide's name was Curt, right?"

"Right," Matthew said. "We need to do one thing different, though."

"What?"

"Go by our fun names. Everybody needs to call me Mattie."

"And Patrick has to be Paddy."

"And Mikhail has to be Misha."

"And you have to be Mark," Matthew said with a giggle.

"What will Neville be?"

"He'll be a stuck-up dork."

"That means we have to work on him," Mark said. "He's not a
butthead like Jeremiah. I think we can make him a friend."

"We can make us all friends. Then we really will be the Fabulous
Five."

"The Fabulous Five," Mark repeated. "I can't wait to tell everybody
what our team name will be."	 He turned and put his lips around his
brother's erection.

Next: Orientation-Day 2