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by Michael Peterson






Malcolm

Chapter 9

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.

Freddy insisted on going with my mother and me to my grandparent's house.

His aunt helped him put together some clothes for himself and me and stuffed them into a shopping bag. He and Brenda helped me back up the hill.

At the hospital, mother told the nurse I'd fallen. They X-rayed my back but found no broken bones, just the obvious bruises. They gave me aspirins and told me to rest for a day or so.

My grandparents were surprised by our late arrival. They'd been preparing to go to bed. It was nearly ten thirty. My grandmother was very distressed when she saw me.

'Not again.' She put her arms around me and took me to the sofa to lie down.

My mother and grandfather huddled in the hall. My grandmother left me with Freddy and joined them. The three of them came and sat around me.

My grandfather said, 'First, I want you to know that you can stay here as long as necessary, as long as you want. So don't worry about that. You are our grandson and we love you very much. Beyond that, maybe we should wait until tomorrow to see what we're going to do about your things and school and so forth. But don't you worry. That man will never touch you again.'

It was too late to call Freddy's mother but my mother was sure Aunt Martha would be told where her son was when she arrived home.

Freddy helped me up to our third floor room. It was actually comfortable lying on my back. The ache in my head persisted but was mild.

Mother was put in the second floor bedroom she'd grown up in.

Freddy lay beside me and kept up the same theme he'd been harping on since we arrived at his house. 'Don' nevah go back wi' that son-a-bitch. I come see you heah eryday if I hafta. School's closah tah heah anyways.'

We slept naked at my request, not for sex, which would have been quite painful, but for the feel of his body against mine and the comfort and security it gave me.

Long after Freddy was breathing deeply, I lay wide awake, thinking about what my father had shouted at my mother in the hall and from the back porch. The remark about the doll and calling me homosexual to my mother was the first indication that my father saw what so many others had recognized so easily. There was no reason he shouldn't see the same. I tried to think of anything else he'd said or done before that should have given me a clue to his thoughts.

He never took me anywhere. Never. Anything done with a parent was with my mother. Did how I acted embarrass him' Was I really that effeminate'

Why didn't he ever talk to me about it'

I remembered he had said that he wasn't my father. Was that possible' I looked more like him than my mother. I had to ask her.

In the morning, I awoke before Freddy, the same thoughts on my mind. I nudged him awake.

'My father said he wasn't my father.'

Freddy wasn't completely conscious and just stared at me for a moment before sitting up.

'Mebbe he ain't. Mama won't tell us who my little sister's daddy is. Mah daddy was dead an' gone before she was born. Missy and me gots a daddy but we don' know 'bout Bea.'

'And he says I'm a homosexual.'

'Well, ain't he a smart white man, ' said Freddy facetiously. 'Erybody knows that.'

'Everybody' You just said some.'

'Damn, there you go bein' a lawyer agin. Most erybody, okay' Anyhow, don' matter none to me or nobody else who's yo' friends. An' it sho' ain' s'posed ta mean nothin' to yo' daddy.'

We talked about it until breakfast time. It still hurt to get up but I didn't want to stay in bed all day so, with Freddy's help, I went down to the kitchen. My mother tried to hide it but she'd been crying. I hugged her and told her I loved her.

After we ate, I asked to speak alone to my mother. We went to her room.

Right off the bat, I asked, 'Is my father really my father? '

'Oh, you heard that. Yes, he is your father. He just has a lot of difficulty dealing with some things.'

'Like homosexuals.'

'Oh, Malcolm. He doesn't, no one knows that about anybody when they're so young. I don't think you're a homosexual.'

'What if I am? '

She had a difficult time finding words. 'Well, you're my son so I don't care one way or the other.' She paused and kneaded my hands. 'Are you worried about that? '

'Not, some. All the kids think I am, even Freddy but he says I might change when I get bigger. And everybody around Freddy's, they think so but they're still my friends. I don't know.'

Mother kept working my hands, looking at them instead of my face.

'I don't really care, mother. If I am, I am. I don't mind. I'm still as good as anyone else. I'm not afraid of anyone.' I was thinking of my father but didn't want to come out and say it.

My grandfather took Freddy and me to a department store and bought us clothes and shoes and coats and ice cream.

By Monday, New Year's Eve, I was functioning. My back and leg were still tender. Rather than watch the festivities on TV, Freddy and I celebrated with some front to front in our bed. Freddy permitted our longest lip to lip kiss, but didn't open his mouth.

We celebrated the day itself by getting back to our exercise regimen minus sit ups and leg raises which hurt my back too much

Thursday, my mother finally agreed to the talk my father had been begging for since the previous Saturday morning. The two of them met in a department store restaurant where a friend of my mother was general manager. That afternoon, we all sat at the dining room table to hear her report. Aunt Martha was there since her son was an integral part of what had happened and my grandfather wanted her to be part of any decision.

'Henry is, I believe, very sorry for what happened, for what he did. He went so far as to admit he brought it on. The bicycle was a very big mistake. He wants me back very much. We all know he loves me and, I, want to love him, have loved him.' She was very uncomfortable but not nearly as uncomfortable as I was hearing what sounded like a capitulation.

Freddy, sitting in the same chair as me, had one arm over my shoulder and the other around me holding the first. He pressed his chin into my back and squeezed me. We were both obviously very nervous about what this meant for us.

Mother continued. 'I did not agree to go back, yet, but said I'd think about it. I told him what I needed from him was for him to retract some of the terrible things he said about Malcolm, both to me and to Malcolm. And he's got to learn to accept Freddy because he's part of Malcom's life whether he likes it or not.'

Aunt Martha nodded. Freddy squeezed me again.

'He talked about possibly me coming home and Malcolm staying here.'

My spirits rose.

'I told him we'd discuss it but I felt he had to accept us both completely or neither.'

It took me a moment to understand that she was opening the door to my return also, something I was completely against.

'I don't ever want to live with him again, ' I said calmly and resolutely.

'I know you don't dear, but if he can accept you as you are and admit what he did, to you, was wrong, and promise before all of us it will never happen again, we must consider it.'

I saw my grandfather shift in his chair. I guessed he was remembering, as I was, that he'd made that promise once before.

'Miss Sandra, ' said Aunt Martha, 'that's a awful big chance ta take, that he won't do it agin. Maacum's been lucky so fah.'

'That's my feeling too, Sandra, ' interjected my grandfather.

My father had promised that, no matter what, he was financially responsible for me and all my needs would be met. So, at least, I was still in school.

I took the streetcar to school on Thursday, and had to answer questions from other riders, including three who knew me from my class, about why I was on the streetcar when I lived within walking distance of the school.

'I'm staying with my grandfather for a while.'

A third grader asked, 'Your parent's getting divorced' Mine did and I had to move too.'

'No, I don't think so.'

The word got around quickly at school. Once again, Tommy Atkins told everyone to leave me alone. I wished I understood what his real attitude was concerning me. When I thanked him quietly for defending me, he poked me gently in the ribs and said, 'What are friends for? '

Francis cornered me at lunch. 'Your parents getting divorced? '

'No.'

'Then how come you're living at your grandfather's? '

Francis knew there was a problem between me and my father and that it became violent at times. 'You know. It happened again so now I don't live with him but don't say anything.'

'You know I won't. So where's your grandfather live? '

I told him.

'You wanna play around. I'm horny as shit. I got the crŠ me.'

'Not today. Maybe in a few days.'

'Wow, you must really be feeling bad.'

'No, I just hurt a little, that's all.'

'Where'd he hit you? '

'Everywhere.'

I was trying to figure out why I turned him down. I couldn't think of ever having done that before in my life. Freddy and I had had sex nearly every night since New Year's Eve. I liked the feel of Francis' big cock inside me. He was nice about it and always jerked me off afterward and never said a word or even hinted at anything with anyone else. I looked around for Tommy Atkins and spotted him playing marbles in the dirt at the base of the flagpole. If he were to ask me for sex, what would my response be' I wasn't sure I'd say no but the fact that I wasn't sure was very strange.

I told Freddy about it back at the house. 'I dunno. Mebbe that hit in the head yo' daddy give you changed you.'

'I'm still doing it with you.'

'We's difrents. I let you fuck me and I ain't like that.'

We were different, for sure. Georgie recognized it. Freddy and I were more than brothers. The sex was just something we liked to do together. It had nothing to do with whether we liked boys or girls outside our relationship. Was I changing'

Each night, my grandmother, who had been a teacher right up to the birth of her first child, worked with Freddy on his homework and more. Freddy kidded about it but I sensed he enjoyed and appreciated it. His handwriting improved immediately. He started correcting his grammar mid sentence like, 'I done, I mean, I did' this or that. I was impressed that he cared.

Monday after swim class, I stood outside my locker and watched. Victor Cibelli take off his suit in front of Pat O'Riley's locker. The two of them stood there naked talking for a couple of minutes.

The sight evoked neither an erection nor desire for either of two boys whom I'd have sucked dry, given the opportunity, just a couple of weeks before. What was going on in my brain'

As soon as I got back from school, I pulled Freddy away from the radio and took him up to our room to tell him about my lack of sexual desire.

'I don' hafta fuck you if you don' wanna.'

'No, no. I don't mean that.'

Freddy grinned. He'd been kidding. 'Maacum, I don' know why you don' wanna get fucked no mo', any mo'. Yo' gramma is gonna make me crazy with her white folks English. Next thing I'm gonna be talkin' foolish like you.'

'Me? '

'Coin! '

'You win. I'll shut up.' Freddy's English was horrible. I understood him because we almost didn't need to talk to understand each other but I figured others, like my grandmother, probably had a hard time.

Freddy hadn't been much help with my dead libido. A psychiatrist probably wouldn't have been able to decipher it either. After six years of seeking cocks, I all of the sudden had lost the desire, completely. Victor Cibelli had been almost godlike to me with that gorgeous long thing of his. I'd many times made a fool of myself trying to get close to him just for the purpose of getting that great thing up my butt. And now, I wasn't at all moved by the sight of it.

That night, I realized something else disturbing. I didn't get hard with Freddy pumping into me until he began jerking me off. It wasn't that I didn't enjoy him inside me, I did, very much. However, I surmised, it was the physical closeness with someone I loved that I liked the most. The sexual aspect really had nothing to do with it.

Maybe I wasn't homosexual. Well, if I wasn't homosexual, I had to be the other way, I couldn't think of the word, and like girls.

'Freddy, we gotta talk to Brenda and.. '

'Maacum, hush up an' let me finish.' He was into his second time and hadn't yet cum.

Apparently I'd broken the spell. He had to bang into me hard for a while to get off.

'Damn, Maacum. Don' evah do that agin. Now, what about Brenda? '

We met the next day at the stream and walked to the settlement looking for Brenda. She was with some friends. Freddy pulled her out of the house.

'Brenda, we think mebbe Maacum done changed and like girls now.'

'Why you think that? '

Freddy looked at me. It was embarrassing. I knew she knew but we'd never come out and discussed it.? 'Cause I don't wanna do the other thing.'

'Mebbe you just sick o, shit, I don' know. So what am I s'posed ta do about that? ' asked Brenda with her hands on her hips and a silly grin on her face.

Freddy answered. 'You gotta git Mary ovah heah Sataday so we can see.'

'How'm I s'posed to do that when taday's already Thursday.'

'I dunno but it's real important.'

Brenda leaned against a tree and folded her arms. 'You got any money' I'm gonna hafta take a couple busses.'

I gave her a quarter leaving just enough to get back to my grandfather's, my new home. I promised to come see her the next afternoon, but Freddy couldn't due to the extra bus fares. My mother only gave me enough each day for bus fare and a candy bar. I had some money hidden in the barn but was afraid to go anywhere near the place.

Brenda scored but it was going to cost me. Mary wanted bus fare and a dollar. I was going to have to go to the barn. The duplicate key was on a little key chain along with a key to my grandfather's garage where we played occasionally when the car wasn't in it. Janet figured to be there so the pig sty door was the better option.

The nail we'd placed into the door was stuck. I had to use a rusty piece of iron to get it out. Everything inside was as I'd last seen it. Three dollars and eighty cents was in the sleeping bag. It occurred to me I'd need the sleeping bag for any sex I was going to have. It was January and cold. I hauled it and the blanket out, walking back with them wrapped around me.

I showed Brenda the dollar and gave her twenty cents for Mary's bus fare.

'An' whattabout mines' How'm I s'posed to go git her? '

I took back a nickel and gave her a quarter.

'What time? ' Freddy asked.

'Oh, 'bout ten o eleven o theahbouts.'

I climbed our tree house and dropped down the duffle bag. After stuffing the sleeping bag in on top of the blanket already in there, I couldn't get it back up so hid it under some bushes and tossed a couple of dead limbs on top for good measure.

On the streetcar home, I examined my feelings about sex with Mary. I closed my eyes and tried to re-enact in my mind the time I'd fucked her there in the woods. I even stuck my hand in my pocket to stimulate myself a little. That felt good but I wasn't sure if it was related to my dick going in and out of Mary.

Freddy and I didn't have sex Friday night so I'd be as fresh as possible for Mary's little vagina. What we hadn't considered was that the last time we'd seen Mary she was still ten, though about to turn eleven. That had been a year and a half before. Mary was now almost twelve and a half. When she arrived, I hardly recognized her. She was only a bit taller than me but had breasts and considerably wider hips.

'Hi, Maacum. Hi, Freddy. Wheah we gonna do this' I don't got a lot a time.'

The sleeping bag was laid out on top of one blanket and under another. Freddy had a warm fire going beside them.

I was experiencing a serious case of performance anxiety. My dick wasn't a lot bigger than it had been when I first stuck it in that cavern of hers, a cavern that now had to be a lot bigger. If she was charging me a dollar, she was charging others too and was well opened up by the man sized cocks she was renting herself out for.

But, there was no turning back, and maybe I'd learn something.

We took off our coats and wiggled inside. There was no way we could both undress in there so I got out and stripped down to my undershirt as close to the fire as I dared.

She was warm and still smooth as before. My cock was soft. 'You ain't very excited yet, Maacum, but Mary'll take care of that.'

While she rubbed her hands all around between my legs and over my cock, I felt between hers to see how much of a change had taken place. The first thing I found was a patch of pubic hair over her vagina. Then my fingers pressed inside her. It was huge. Douglas and a friend could have screwed her simultaneously.

However, she was getting my cock hard.

'Suck on my titties if you wants, Maacum.'

I slid down and tried it. They were soft like my ass. I caressed one while sucking the small nipple of the other.

'That's good, Maacum, ' she said softly, just for us.

My cock was as stiff as it was going to get. I released her nipple and slid back up. Mary rolled onto her back and grabbed my buns. She opened her legs and I slid right in.

'Good, Maacum. Now fuck me.'

I thrust again and again but it was like screwing warm pudding. It was pleasant but I'd never get off doing it.

'Do it hardah, Maacum. Feel good.'

I obeyed and pushed in as hard as I could. She yanked on my butt cheeks with each thrust.

'Oh baby, this is good! ' she said passionately.

I was starting to sweat from the exertion but fruition was miles down the road.

After a while, she let go of one cheek. A moment later, I felt her wet finger at my anus. She pushed in. Her finger nail hurt as it entered but went straight for my prostate. After wiggling it back and forth and stretching and pulling on my sphincter, she pulled it out and stuck in two fingers. That turned on something. She fucked my ass and twiddled my prostate. Seconds later, I felt everything happening. I tried to keep fucking but my body wanted to be rigid. My groin felt like a flashbulb was going off inside it. I came, throbbing time after time. I didn't feel her pull her fingers out.

She couldn't have been there more than fifteen minutes. I had to dress outside. The fire wasn't much help with my damp body. Mary was gone with her dollar before I tied my shoe laces. I was shivering so badly, Freddy had to tie them. He laughed the entire time he was doing it.

Freddy was dying to hear how it had gone. 'You came. I seen that.'

'She stuck her fingers up my rear and fucked me.'

'What? '

'She fucked me with her fingers, two of 'em.'

'Shit! '

'I couldn't do anything until she did that.'

'She was awful big too, wasn't she.'

'I hardly felt anything inside her.'

'What if we gits a girl mo' little, mo' like you. Whattabout them, those girls in yo' school erebody's fuckin? ''

'Everybody's not fucking any of them, well, maybe one or two but they're not going to want to do it with me.'

'Mebbe if you give 'em money.'

'They've got money. They get more than me.'

'Whattabout if…? '

'Freddy, wait. Just wait. I still like it in my rear end. I haven't changed. I don't think I ever will.'

He stared at me then pushed around the wood in the fire. 'I still think you oughta try one mo' time.'

'Why' Remember when she was almost my size, I didn't get off until she stuck her finger in my hole, just like today except she did it a lot more.'

'Coulda been 'cause she was a girl. Shit, that's stupid. You right.' Freddy chuckled and lay back looking at the bare limbs of the trees above us. I lay beside him.

'Woulda been sumpin', ' he laughed. 'Maacum Lloyd gits smacked by his old man an' goes from a fag to a whatevah you call 'em jes like that. Shit. You coulda been famous. Wanna git back in the bag? '

'You gotta let me fuck you too.'

'No I don't. Anyways, you ain't big enough.'

We did it the old way, first in front then from behind, drifting off to a semi-sleep afterwards. I wondered how I'd feel next time Francis propositioned me.

Sunday, mother went to Mass with my father at the church we'd regularly attended. She didn't get home until dinner time, shortly after Freddy and I returned from his mother's house. Her silence about what they'd discussed worried me. My grandmother served apple pie with ice cream for desert. My grandfather had a heart condition so it was a rare treat.

'I want you to know this has been a very difficult day for me, not difficult in a bad way, just, well, it required a lot of hard thinking. After Mass, your father and I met with Father Simons.'

Father Simons was the longest serving priest at the three priest parish. He was older than Father Lindenhal but younger than the Monsignor and fat, not obese, but definitely overweight. He taught Catechism once a week to the fifth through eighth grades in my school so I was familiar with him. He didn't seem any better or any worse than the rest of the nun teachers I'd had.

My heart sank at the next words. 'I really miss Henry. He has some terrible faults but overall he has been a wonderful husband. He does love me very much. Father Simons suggested we just visit for a while and see how it goes.'

The 'we' made me shiver.

'He'd like you to come once or twice too. Henry really wants to talk to you, to tell you how very sorry he is for everything, not just for recent events but for all these years he hasn't been a very good father. He's been in counseling with Father Simons since the first of the year.'

'I'm not going, ' I said quietly.

'Please, dear. It doesn't have to be at the house. We can go somewhere, to

a restaurant or the park, wherever you want.'

I shook my head.

'Sandra, ' said my grandmother. 'It might be too soon to be talking about that. It's only been a few weeks.'

Mother turned to me. 'All right, you can wait until you're ready, but I, I want to be with him. I want to go back to the house. Will that make you angry at me? '

I felt a constriction in my chest, like a rope was being wrapped around me, trapping me and dragging me slowly back under my father's cruel control. She was going back to him. I was their son. They could insist and my grandparents would be as powerless as I to prevent my return. I could hardly breathe. I tried to stand and fainted.

When I regained consciousness, I was stretched out on the sofa, my head in Freddy's lap. My grandmother sat beside us with a glass of water.

'Here, take a drink, ' sounded like it was coming from some place far away.

My hand took the glass and put it at my lips. Freddy tipped it back, spilling water down my chin onto my lap.

'Maacum, drink some water.'

I opened my mouth and drank.

Mother was very apologetic. She should have broken it to me slower. I didn't have to come until I was ready. At no time did she say I didn't ever have to come back if I didn't want to. The frustration in my grandfather's eyes frightened me. The inevitability of being forced back sank into me like water into a drowning dog.

I couldn't, wouldn't speak to my mother. She was betraying me. Her promises of protection were a con. Anger built in my chest. I quickly went to my bedroom before I said something that might make matters worse. Freddy chased after me.

I told him how I felt, what I believed was happening. We fell asleep clothed, in each other's arms.

Grandmother woke us. We bathed together.

'You ain't thinkin' 'bout doin' nothin' stupid, are you, Maacum? '

'I don't know. They're gonna make me go back. I can't go back there, ever.'

'Talk to yo' granddaddy. He's smart. He'll know what to do.'

My mother wasn't there for breakfast. She'd gone to him the night before after I went to my room.

Freddy took the trolley to school. My grandfather drove me.

'I spoke to your mother before she left last night and explained that I didn't think it was a good idea for you to be pressured right now to see your

father. I think she understands that. I'm going to arrange to speak with Father Simons then I'll sit down with your father and see what we can arrange.'

'That I can live with you? '

'That's what your grandmother and I want but, you understand the situation. We can fight for you, go to court if necessary, but, in the end, parents have strong legal rights. And we don't have much in the way of concrete proof of abuse. Unless we were very lucky, the court would probably be sympathetic to your father's attitude about Freddy. I just want to be very honest with you so you understand your situation. But I don't think anything's going to happen any time soon.'

After dropping me off at school, he was going to the rectory to see if he

could see or set up an appointment with Father Simons.

Francis approached me again at recess. Had his sex been more affectionate, I probably would have agreed but, good as it felt, being the receptacle for someone's cock wasn't what I wanted at the time. He frowned but didn't plead, then put his arm over my shoulder and led me to where his friend Glen was sitting with some others on the wall. I listened to the sound of the conversation for a minute or so but was thinking about Francis's arm over my shoulder.

'Francis, ' I said, 'I forgot to show you something.'

He knew immediately what was to be shown. He forced the boiler room door. Inside, we dropped our pants and I flopped across old newspapers the janitor kept piled in a corner. Francis lubed himself from the tin he kept in his pocket and pushed inside me. It did feel good. He had grown since that first time the previous Fall and filled me perfectly. He stood leaning into me and fucked slowly.

'Lie on top of me, Francis.'

I pulled his hands under my shoulders and enjoyed the feel of his body undulating as he thrust into me. I was worried he'd be fast considering how long it had been but he went on and on.

'Do me just before you come, ' I asked.

It took a while. His passion rose slowly. I came the moment he touched me. A few more hard thrusts and he shot his load into me.

As we cleaned up with the folded toilet paper he carried, I asked, 'How come it took you so long? '

He smiled. 'Weekly blow jobs by a certain young lady.'

'Oooh. Who' I won't tell.'

'Can't do that. A promise is a promise.'

'She go to school here? '

'Of course.'

'Are you the only one she's doing? '

'Too many questions.'

We went upstairs to the hall outside our classroom to await the bell. I ran to take a pee just before it rang.

When I told Freddy what Francis and I had done, he said thoughtfully, 'Tha's okay, Maacum. Tha's the way you are. You jus' doin' what you s'posed ta do.'

It was really cold outside so we played Monopoly, a game that always ended with an argument preventing coin toss. We both hated losing such a long endeavor.

My grandfather's talk with Father Simons hadn't resolved anything, hadn't even given him a feeling of how Father Simons felt about the situation. However, he was to meet with my parents and Father Simons on Thursday at eleven. I worried that Father Simons would have the same attitude toward Negroes as the nuns.

Freddy and I were sitting on the sofa, my grandfather in his easy chair.

I asked, 'Did he say anything about me being homosexual? '

My grandfather seemed uncomfortable with the question. He and I had never discussed it but I assumed my mother had mentioned it to him. And if everyone else noticed it, why not my grandfather'

He glanced at Freddy, sighed, and answered, 'Well, not exactly. Father Simon talked about both you and your father having some character problems and you having a particular moral problem.

'Malcolm, I know you and I have never talked about this, and, we don't have to. But, if you want to, I don't really know anything about it. If you'd like, we can go see someone who does, who might be able to help you.'

Help me do what, I thought, change' 'No, that's okay. Did Father Simons say anything about me having to go back? '

'He thought it should be a goal that we work toward.'

'I don't ever want to go back.'

'I know, son.'

Freddy helped me work off some of my frustration with our exercises. The sweat made what came next so much more delicious.

I could hardly concentrate on anything the next two days awaiting the results of the Thursday meeting. By lunchtime on Thursday, my stomach was in such a knot, I gave away my sandwiches and chocolate milk. Watching the others eat made me nauseous. I went into the bathroom but nothing came up.

In the classroom, Sister Bernice noticed and sent me to the nurse. She called my grandmother to come pick me up but no one was at home. The nurse had me lie on the examination table and covered me with a sheet. Half an hour later, she tried again and was successful.

Both my grandparents came. In the car, I begged for news from their meeting.

'Malcolm, I'm still thinking about it. Let's wait until we're home and can sit down calmly.'

My stomach reacted immediately. I gagged and threw up on the floor in front of the rear seat. My grandmother handed me a box of tissue and opened the window. I was so weak they had to help me climb the stairs to the kitchen.

They wanted me to rest before we spoke. I wanted to hear everything immediately. Grandmother had to clean up the mess I'd made in the back of the car. She was probably grateful not to be part of what I was about to be told.

'I want you to know that I fought for you, and if you wish, I'll go to court, but both your parents are insisting you come home this weekend. Your father did seem willing to admit his mistakes and be a better father. He swore there would be no more violence on his part but that you had to do your part too.'

'What part' He attacks me! '

'Calm down and listen. Your father says in each case the matter has started when you refused to do something and then started calling him names. One time, he insists, you started calling him names while he was asleep in bed.'

'All I want to do is be with Freddy. What's wrong with that? '

'He is willing to compromise on that. You can go see Freddy twice a week after school on the condition that you never leave the area of his house with him, especially not anywhere near your house.'

'That's stupid! '

'Malcolm. Calm down. There's more and it's not all bad. As long as you obey the two time a week rule with Freddy and do your chores, you can go off and see friends any time you want, bring them to your house, come see us.'

'Can Freddy come here? '

'No. Remember, you can only see Freddy near where he lives, not out in public.'

'And if I go to see him more? '

'You will be restricted to the house again.'

'I'm not going back.'

'Malcolm, they can force you to go back. If you don't, you'll be a runaway. If I let you stay here, I can be charged with kidnapping.'

'Kidnapping' You're my grandfather.'

'The only people who have a right to have you with them, unless a court says otherwise, are your parents.'

'Then let's go to court.'

'You still have to go home this weekend. With that lawyer Belstone of your

father, it will take weeks to get it into court and we will almost certainly lose.'

'And, if I run away, what can they do to me? '

'Take you back home or a foster home or, if you keep running away, a reformatory. In those places you will never be allowed to see Freddy and they are far worse than your house.'

I jumped out of my chair. 'This isn't fair! ' I walked back and forth from one end of the kitchen to the other. My grandfather sat silently. I stopped and hugged him. I was sure he felt as miserable and frustrated as I, but not as angry.

'Twice a week with Freddy isn't enough. Why can't I see him whenever I want' We don't do anything wrong.'

'Sit down, son. There's more.'

I knew it would be bad from the tone of his voice.

'The reason you can't see Freddy more than two times a week is because you'll have chores one afternoon and will be stopping by the rectory twice a week for counseling with Father Simons.'

'Why' For what? '

'A priest from another parish called Father Simons a year and a half ago about you and one of his altar boys. Father Simons discussed it with your principal but she said she didn't think anything was going on there at the school so he dropped the matter. They are concerned about you and Freddy.'

'Freddy likes girls.'

'Do you know the boy he was talking about? '

Admitting what went on with Philip wasn't easy. 'He wanted to do it too. That stupid priest.'

'Malcolm, I've an idea that might help. What if I arrange for a doctor to see you instead of Father Simons.'

'There's nothing wrong with me.'

'I agree but you're going to have to see someone and I think it will be a lot easier on you if it's a doctor rather than Father Simons.'

A growing depression made me feel like I was being buried alive. Inside I was crying but my eyes stayed dry.

'So I'm being blamed for everything. I'm a nigger loving fag. I, ' I sat and finally cried tears.

My grandfather stood behind me and massaged my shoulders.

Freddy took the news better than I. 'Fuck them. We always found a way ta be togethah. We gone do it again.'

'I don't think I can handle this counseling. I know what he's gonna say, the same crap that priest told Philip.'

'Philip ratted you out and mebbe us too.'

I wondered how hard the nuns had been watching me at school. There had been sex right there with three different boys and Francis admitted that many of the boys knew of my orientation.

So much had come to light that afternoon. Sister Kathleen knew about me and Philip. Had she said anything to the other nuns' Philip had seen Freddy and me naked and guessed we'd been doing things. Did he tell his priest that too' Is that why they were 'concerned' about Freddy and me' Why was what I did with other kids, that we both liked doing, a problem' Why was it anybody's business but ours'

Freddy and I discussed it all over and over again, breaking only for dinner. He wanted me to fight them, not to let them destroy our lives. 'They said you can go out whenever you want.'

'Sure, to see white boys, not you.'

'Well, we find another white boy like Louis but we gotta be smarter, that's all.'

I didn't know much about the vast majority of my classmates. I'd need to learn more. Freddy mentioned all the kids in the public school and the parochial school. Maybe I should go to the playgrounds and see what I found. The challenge lifted my spirits a bit.

We wore our pajamas, tops and bottoms, to bed but lowered the bottoms to make love.

Francis was horny again Friday. 'I can't, ' I said, 'I think the nuns are watching me.'

'Who told? '

'Some kid a long time ago, not from here. He told a priest who told Father Simons. He told Sister Kathleen.'

'Gees. You gotta be careful then. Simons is a prick. You sure? '

'Not completely but, well, they told my father.'

'That prick. What'd your father say? '

'I haven't seen him yet.' I told him about having to go home the next day.

'Just tell him it was just that one time and it was the other kid's idea, not yours. You doing it with anybody else here? '

'No.' Frank Stillings and Mitchell Sanders had graduated the year before.

'Gees. This is so stupid. You don't do that much and there's all kinds of sex going on around here, kids jerking off, girls giving blow jobs, getting fucked. There's only a few guys from our class but seventh and eighth, there's a bunch of them. And they're bothering you. Pricks.'

That evening at dinner, my grandmother said to Freddy, 'You know, if you'd like, Freddy, on the days you're not going to be with Malcolm, you can come here after school and I can continue to work with you on your studies. We'll be happy to pay your car fare.'

Freddy looked at me. 'Do it, ' I urged.

He agreed to come Mondays, Wednesdays, Thursdays and even Saturday mornings. We couldn't do anything before eleven Saturdays even if it turned out to be possible.

My grandfather told me that my parents would be by the following afternoon between three and four.

In bed, I told Freddy to 'fuck me all night, don't stop.' I had the feeling my sex life was going to be curtailed dramatically. Freddy and I would be reduced again to our sleeping bag, possibly just two times a week though Freddy was sure we'd get around that. Sex in bed, though, would be hard to come by.

Freddy lay on my back and pumped slowly. Around the middle of the night, I got up on my knees so he could do it doggie style. 'Do it hard, ' I insisted.

Later, I rolled over and he fucked me from the front. 'Harder, ' I said.

'We gone wake up yo' granfolks, Maacum.'

He fucked me a little harder. I wanted to hear the smack, smack, smack of our bodies coming together.

Each time, I lay back on my stomach and he pushed back inside. What time we slept, we did so in that position though his cock eventually slipped out.

Saturday morning, we went to Freddy's house and the stream. We wanted to set up a place for more comfortable sex and some late night rendezvous if they became necessary. What we planned was ambitious but, if we could pull it off, offered a hideout should we ever need one. Our idea was to dig a small room into the side of the hill on the church side of the stream, a third of the way to the top and about thirty feet upstream from our tree house. The hill there was almost vertical. The problem would be how to prevent rain runoff from destroying the front and creating a muddy pool inside. The tools we needed were in my father's barn. It rained off and on that morning, probably a harbinger of the bad times to come when I was taken back home. My coat was water repellent. We borrowed a raincoat from Freddy's aunt for him.

The bushes were bare of leaves and offered only partial cover. I saw no one in the living room or the kitchen so we ran to behind the barn and crossed into my father's property. Freddy had a pair of pliers to pull out the nail and open the pig sty door. Inside, we chose a pick and shovel.

It was lunchtime so we ate at Freddy's aunt's house. I had to be back by three so there wasn't much time.

With a bucket from Douglas' house, we carried the dirt we dug down to the stream and dumped it into the water. Digging was difficult. The ground wasn't frozen but there were rocks and roots everywhere.

I stopped digging after a while and sat by our hole. 'I don't want to go home today. Why can't they wait 'til tomorrow? '

Freddy slipped down the hill and sat beside me. 'You gotta, Maacum. You don't and they gone be a whole lot worse trouble.'

I felt like crying.

'Look, Maacum.' He put his arm over my shoulder. 'We gonna be okay. We too strong fo' them. Once we sees how it is, we can do a lot a stuff, you'll see.'

We covered the hole with limbs, brush and leaves and walked back to his house. The tools were hidden in Douglas house in case my mother or father came by to see Aunt Martha.

My mother arrived alone at four thirty. I hadn't packed anything since most of what was at my grandparent's house they'd bought for me the day after I arrived.

She wanted to talk to me. I didn't want to talk to her. My grandfather said nothing.

'Dear, things are going to be so much different now. You can see Freddy.'

'Yeh, twice a week.'

'That might change in time and you can go visit friends on weekends. You can use your bicycle. It has gears so climbing hills is easy.'

My control slipped. 'You lied to me. You said I never had to go back.'

'Dear, sometimes, we say things that aren't possible. At the time, I meant it but we are a family and? '

'No we're not.'

'Don't say that Malcolm. Your father and I love you.'

'Bullshit. Let's just go.'

I walked to the front door and out to her car. My grandfather caught up to me. 'Malcolm, you've got to calm down. Acting like this will only make things worse. Just relax.'

'But I hate them.'

'Please don't talk like that. Just try to be agreeable. You don't have to do any more than that. It will be so much easier.'

Mother opened the door on my side and walked to hers. I hugged my grandfather. Grandmother stood on the porch and waved. There was a glint in her eye. It brought tears to mine.

For a while, my mother tried to talk about how my father looked forward to being a better father and spending time with me. I refused to respond. She finally gave up.

It was raining again when we pulled up to the house. My father was waiting in the hall when I walked in. I turned through the dining room, went through the kitchen up to my room and closed the door.

I sat at my desk and turned on the radio, searching for some black music.

There was a knock at my door and my father walked in and sat on the bed.

'Can we talk? '

The moment he spoke, I instinctively looked for a weapon. I grabbed a metal ruler and sat without a word.

'Malcolm, I know you're angry at me and in some ways you're, right.

I whipped around with the ruler in my fist and glared at him.

'Don't forget, boy, ' he said with a smile, 'it was you who tried to kill me. I've got the scar to prove it. All I did was smack you one, as you deserved, for a pretty foul remark. You going to stab me with that? '

'Whatta you want? '

'I just want to talk, like father and son.'

'I'm not your son. You said so. So just go away.' What he said disgusted me, shattered any fear I felt when he entered the room.

'That was an unfortunate remark and I apologize for it.'

'And the doll' Just go away. I'm here. What else do you want? '

'I want us to be friends.'

'You're crazy.'

His smile was fading. 'Look, Malcolm, life is a two way street. I'm trying to be right with you. I have admitted my mistakes but you've made some too and are making more right now. We need to start over. I'm willing to forget the past. You've got to do the same.'

'How come I can only see Freddy two times a week and only at his place? '

'Didn't you learn anything from that beating down on the tracks' People don't like seeing Negroes and whites together. That doesn't mean it's wrong, just that it's dangerous. I'm trying to protect you.'

'Right, two times a week.'

'Two times a week is all the time you have. I had to cut down your chores to one afternoon and Saturday morning to get in those two afternoons.'

'Yeh, so I can go see that priest so he can tell me how bad I am and save my soul.'

'Malcolm, you have a problem. I can't believe you like being the way you are. You only have one friend. All the rest left you. Most of the kids at school don't want to play with you. Ever ask yourself why' Wouldn't it be nicer if you could be like everyone else? '

'What, like you? '

He stood and sighed. 'We're not getting very far, are we' You need to start thinking about what I've said.'

He almost slammed the door.

I mouthed 'fuck you' at him.

I did think about what he said but didn't find anything that provided hope.

At the dinner table, he tried to be funny, about how wobbly I'd be when I started riding my bicycle.

'You know what, maybe I'll get one and we can go riding together, ' he said.

I shook my head and forced myself to eat mother's overdone meatloaf. Janet had left the day of our little war and had never returned. They were looking for a maid, a white one, I was sure.

By the time I drifted off to sleep, my anger had melted a bit. At least there weren't threats. Maybe if I just got back to doing my chores ahead of his orders, I could limit my contact with him and gain a little more freedom. The counseling sessions would need to be dealt with. Perhaps, I could convince the prick priest I'd changed and cut them short. I'd go to confession on Thursdays and use his confessional when he was there and talk about sins of omission, and maybe impure thoughts about Virginia Bailey.

Then I met him. My parents took me to the rectory after Mass. He was waiting for us in his office. The smile was as thick as Chinese tissue. I tried to make mine thinner, then remembered my plan.

'You know we'll be getting together Mondays and Thursdays after school.'

'Yes sir.'

He smiled some more of his Chinese tissue. 'That's father, not sir. I'm not a policeman.'

I tried to force a 'yes, father' but it stuck in my throat.

'Have you and your father had a nice talk? ' He looked back and forth at the both of us.

I studied the seam in my slacks.

'We got a few things out of the way, ' answered my father.

'That's really important. I want you two to spend some time with each other every day just talking about whatever comes up. That's what Malcolm and I are going to do.' He reached over and patted my knee.

He asked my parents how things were going. They said great.

He gave me a rosary and a little, fake leather bound prayer book he suggested I read a bit from each night. I was to come see him Monday right after school.

After breakfast, I asked, 'Am I allowed to go out? '

'Depends on where you want to go, ' answered my father with a smile he borrowed from Father Simons.

'I don't know. Down to Benson's, around there.' I really wanted to see Stewart, the altar boy and very briefly my friend, and find out what I could about Father Simons. He'd served Mass for him for at least three years.

'That's fine but you know where you're not to go? '

'Yeh'

'Where? '

'Freddy's'

He waved his arm toward the door. I got my coat in the pantry and walked down the lawn to the street and from there past the public school and a pair of large houses to the broad intersection where Benson's occupied the most prominent of the four corners. Benson's was the candy store and soda fountain frequented early morning and afternoon by students from all area schools. About ninety percent of the students had to pass the intersection to get home. The streetcar turnaround was across the street. I was told that teenagers hung out in there nights, especially weekends. I was the only patron at eleven fifteen Sunday morning. I sat at a table and searched the tree lined sidewalks. My mother was just below the public school, trying to hide behind a tree.

'Stupid', I thought.

I walked down by Stewart's house. He was out front cleaning the dirt yard. He had to be at least thirteen but wasn't much taller than me, and as three years before, probably weighed less. We'd winked at each other when he served the nine o'clock Mass I attended when I went and had waved a few times on the way out. I stood behind a car across the tracks and watched, debating whether to go say hi. I was worried his uncle might be home.

Rather than risk a confrontation, I walked across the street to the tracks and waited for him to see me. His face lit up when he did. I motioned for him to come over. He shook his head and shrugged his shoulders. I pointed at myself and then in his direction. He looked around and waved me in.

Our greetings were uncomfortable. I noticed his voice hadn't begun to change. He kept his distance. I sat on an old railroad tie on one side of his yard.

'Still can't leave Sunday's? '

He shook his head.

'How's school? '

'Okay.'

'Still eating breakfast at the rectory? '

'Sometimes, when I serve for Father Lindenhal.'

'How come not other times? '

He walked over and sat on the far end of the tie. I waited for his answer. 'Nothin' special. Father Lindenhal always asks me if I want.'

'What about Father Simons? '

He pursed his lips and picked up two small stones. 'We don't get along that good any more.' He threw one then the other stone at a wooden chair by the door of his one room apartment.

'I gotta go to him for counseling.'

'Just be careful.'

'Why? '

'Just be careful.'

'What'd he do to you' I'm not gonna tell. I don't like him much either.'

'How come you gotta do counseling with him? '

'You know, problems with my father.'

'Well, just don't tell him nothin' you don't want yer father to know.'

'He a snitch? '

'Oh yeah. A big one.'

'So what happened? '

'I told him somethin'. He told ma uncle. My uncle kicked ma ass, couple times.'

'What's you tell him? '

'What we talked about.'

It had been three years. 'I don't remember, what? '

He waved his fist over his crotch like he was jerking off.

'He beat you for that' That's stupid. Everybody in my school does it. I'll bet Father Simons did it.'

'I'm sure he did it. Way he talked about it. But he just wanted me to say I did it.'

'And he told your uncle.'

'Kicked my ass two times.'

Stewart still had no friends outside of school. In school, they were more friendly classmates than real friends. He was by far the smallest kid in eighth grade. We talked about school and girl friends that neither of us had and how often the trains went by. The steam engine was often replaced by a diesel locomotive.

I promised to come by the next weekend.

I looked all over for mother but couldn't find her. I walked up to the church and past it. Mother wasn't behind me. A hundred yards ahead was a road that went up the steep hill among some medium sized homes. I figured that somewhere along there I could cut between a couple and down through the woods to the stream.

It was farther than it seemed but I finally slipped down the hill through trees and brush to the stream and up to Freddy's house. He grinned and patted me on the back. 'See, you done it, did it.' My grandmother was still having an effect.

I changed into some of his clothes and we took my father's pick and shovel down to our project. We wore ourselves out but made twice as much headway as Friday afternoon.

As we worked, I told him about what Stewart had told me.

'Well, I tole you what ta do with that white man. Just lie an' deny, deny an' lie.'

'I was thinking, well, what do I do that makes everybody think I'm a fag.'

Freddy chuckled. 'Jus' 'bout everything. Yo' talk and what you always doin' wif yo' hands.'

'Like what? '

'Like that. Look at yo' hands right now.'

They were up and open. I stuffed them between my legs.

'An' that.'

'Freddy! '

'An that.'

'What? '

'An' the way you said 'what' all like a girl.'

'So how am I supposed to say it? '

'What? ' He said it the way I thought I was saying it.

'What? '

'What, you tryin' ta change how you talk so nobody thinks you a homo? '

'Yes.'

'Well, you can fo'git that. That's just too much to change.'

'Oh Freddy, I don't wanna get stuck seeing this priest for the rest of my life.'

'Then just tell him you holy an' don' nevah touch yo'self down theah.'

That became my plan.

My father questioned me about where I'd been. I was clean as a pin from bathing at Freddy's. Aunt Martha had brushed off my clothes so they looked like they'd been in church all day.

'I went down by the lumber yard and talked to that boy who serves Mass for a while then went out the tracks to a bridge over a stream. This man was fishing. He had two fishing rods so I held one.' I'd seen that in some magazines.

'Catch anything? '

'I didn't. He got one.'

'You like fishing? '

'I don't know. It's awful boring.'

Before sleeping, I read a few pages from the prayer book so I could say something about them at the next day's session with Father Simons.

At school the next morning, I asked Tommy Atkins, who I knew sometimes served Mass for the nuns, about Father Simons.

'You wanna be an altar boy? '

'No. Don't tell anybody, okay? '

'What, that you don't want to be an altar boy? '

'No, what I'm gonna say, what I'm gonna tell you.'

'What? ' He didn't look too happy about me confiding in him.

'I gotta go to him for counseling.'

'Father Simons? '

'Yes.'

'Why' Oh, I guess I know. 'Cause of the way you are? '

'Mmm hmm.'

'My suggestion is just tell him you aren't. He's always telling us not to touch ourselves, that it's some terrible mortal sin and we'll go to hell.'

'That's what my friend says. Deny and lie.'

Tommy laughed. 'Perfect. Deny and lie.'

'Thanks, Tommy. I owe you one.'

'I hope so.'

I stared at him trying to decide if I should take the next step. He'd

certainly given me the first one. Caution overruled. I touched him on the arm and said, 'Soon.'

When I turned I looked all around without moving my head, up to the second and third floor windows to see if any of the nuns were watching me. There were two in the entry speaking to a group of older boys and one shaking a rag out her third floor window. But none seemed to be paying any attention to me.

When I arrived at the rectory after school, Mildred, the maid, welcomed me and took me to Father Simons' office off the main hall.

Same phony smile, same stilted greeting. He held out a beefy hand. I almost ignored it but thought better and shook it briefly. He took a while to let go. He waved me to a sparsely upholstered brown leather chair in front of his desk.

'All that I want to do this week is get to know you. For instance, what do you like to do in your spare time? '

'I dunno, play with my friends.'

'Doing what? '

'Toss baseball cards, listen to music, make things at the stream, like that.'

'Do you play any sports? ' I noticed how the fat on his throat jiggled when he spoke.

'Sure, some basketball and baseball and I'm a real good swimmer. Last year at camp I was tops in push ups and that stuff. I'm still the best in gym at school.'

'How many pushups can you do? '

'Depends. Around thirty-eight, forty.'

'That's pretty good. What else do you do? '

'I read a lot, go to the park and the zoo with my grandfather, work in his shop and do drawings but I'm not very good at that.'

It seemed to be going very well.

'Tell me about Freddy? '

I was prepared for that. 'He's my best friend.'

'How long have you known Freddy? '

'Since I was six, five years.'

'How did you meet him? '

'I was playing at the stream and he came by. We started playing together and, well, we still do.'

'What do you and Freddy do together? '

'Everything. We still play down by the stream but not as much. We make tree houses and stuff like that. And we play stuff with his friends like hide and seek and tag and marbles. Sometimes we play ball but there isn't any place big enough to play baseball or anything like that.'

'Why don't you play on the public school playground'

'You know.'

'Because Freddy's a Negro.'

'Mmm hmm.'

'Do you think that's fair? '

'No, do you? ' It wasn't a good thing to ask but it just came out.

'This is about you, Malcolm, not me.' That's when the animosity seeped into my consciousness.

I straightened my pants cuff.

'What else do you and Freddy do? '

'Oh, listen to music, eat at his house. His mother's a really good cook. She was our cook for a while but my father fired her because she got angry when he beat me.'

'Hmmm. Do you sleep with Freddy sometimes? '

'Mmm hmm.'

'In the same bed? '

'Mmm hmm.'

'And you play around a little in bed like boys do? ' he asked with a smile that would have made a used car salesman proud. Stupid was the word that popped into my mind.

'Nah, we're always sleepy when we go to bed.'

'Aw, come on. You never do anything in bed other than sleep? '

'Like what? '

'What boys do.'

I tried to look as confused as possible, then embarrassed as possible. 'You mean with our privates? '

'Mmm hmm.'

'Oh no, father. That's a sin. A mortal sin. Freddy goes to church too, every Sunday and his mother would beat him silly if she ever caught him doing that.'

That led to my body being a temple of Christ and we shouldn't defile that temple and on and on.

I wasn't sure he believed any of my denials and lies but I didn't believe any of his platitudes. The man sounded like a door to door salesman selling hair brushes or encyclopedias.

'What a jerk! ' I told Freddy the following afternoon. 'And what's really stupid is that he wants me to go to confession with him on Thursday and tell him everything because God is listening and it's a terrible sin if I don't tell him everything. What a jerk! I haven't been to confession in so long I forgot what to say. I'm gonna talk to this kid in my class tomorrow. I think he knows it all.'

We spent half an hour in the sleeping bag committing mortal sin after mortal sin. 'You gonna tell 'bout this in confession? '

'Unh uh. Then he'd wanna do it too.'

Tommy Atkins was very helpful on confession. 'That's easy. You know about 'Forgive me father for I have sinned. It's been two weeks since my last confession', right? '

I nodded.

'Never say more than three weeks or they start yapping about that. Then you confess stuff like you got angry at your little sister and your mother, or you got in a fight with a friend, or you lied about eating some cookies. Don't use that too much. I did and Simons caught it and wanted to know why I kept doing it. And, this is good for you, tell him you had impure thoughts about a girl when she bent over to tie her shoes. He'll talk a lot about your body is a temple but it'll throw him off.'

'He's not going to believe that from me.'

'Maybe not, but who knows. Piss him off enough with that and maybe he'll quit trying to change you 'cause that's what this is all about, right? '

We grinned at each other. I really wanted to sin with him. And I was pretty sure he had the same impure thought.

'I wish I knew a safe place, ' I said.

His smile broadened. 'I do. Wanna eat lunch there? '

'Yes.'

Just before lunch, Tommy volunteered to clap erasers. Pat O'Riley joined him. Tommy motioned for me to leave with the rest. Five minutes later, he came down with Pat who went off to the plaza. Tommy said, 'Come on' and led me back up the stairs. Our third floor classroom door was open. He closed and locked it behind us.

'In here? '

'As long as we stay against this wall, no one can see us.' We indicated the wall bordering the hallway. There were doors at each end of the classroom and a blackboard on the wall between them. 'We've got, ' he looked at his wrist watch, 'thirty-nine minutes before the bell.'

We sat against the wall. Tommy asked, 'Wanna eat first or, '

I put my hand in his crotch. He was ready. I undid his belt and opened his pants. He lifted up so I could pull them down. His balls were the size of marbles. His cock was a growing three and a half inches.

'You wanna fuck me? '

'Not this time. Just put your mouth on me.'

He lay out flat against the wall. I lay over his dropped drawers and felt his groin. I ran my hands up under his shirt and took his thick cock into my mouth. It was smooth and warm and delectable. He lay his hands softly on my head. I caressed his pectorals and slowly moved my head around on his cock. His powerful stomach muscles flexed. I raised up on his cock to taste the circumcised head and look up his body. I pushed his shirt up but it was stuck beneath him. I let go of his cock and asked, 'Raise your back up'. He did and I pushed his shirt up to his underarms. His body was magnificent.

I slid my mouth up and down that stiff rod, going down far enough to run my tongue over his succulent testicles. His hips rotated up at me, pushing his cock to the back of my mouth and allowing my tongue to taste his rounded perineum.

There I was, after years of yearning, looking lustfully, with the body of the top class athlete, Tommy Atkins, under my hands, his dick and balls in my mouth. It was incredibly erotic. My cock lifted my groin off the floor.

My hands slid up and down his torso, right to the base of his hairless cock. His hands tightened on my head, flexing those thick pectoral muscles I so loved. He pumped faster and moved my head in time. His chest heaved with the deep breaths he was taking. He made a muffled, high pitched sound. His muscles tensed. He pulsed rapidly in my mouth. I heard a thump the moment he came. As the pulsing slowed, he pumped a few more times into my mouth. I sucked in his balls and moved them around with my tongue. He sat up.

'Gees, Malcolm. That was great.' He was rubbing the back of his head. He grinned. 'I banged my head on the floor when I came.'

Lunch wasn't nearly good as the appetizer.

We walked out a few minutes before the bell and waited down in the second floor hallway.

Thursday afternoon, armed with the sins I'd worked up the afternoon before while cleaning out my father's basement shop, I walked confidently into the confessional that the kids there before me said held Father Simons. Tommy Atkins had come along for moral support.

I heard the far side window slide shut. Mine opened.

'Forgive me Father for I have sinned. It has been two weeks since my last confession.'

'Just two? '

'Yes father, two. I went with my grandfather to Holy Name.'

'Go ahead.'

'I got angry at my parents a couple of times and said a curse word to myself.'

'To yourself? '

'I didn't say it out loud.'

'What else? '

I tried to sound embarrassed. 'I had some bad thoughts.'

'What kind of bad thoughts


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