Rock and a Hard Place
Chapter 14
By and © Hans Schrieber
Special thanks to my editors, Flip, Smallfox, Lisa and Pablo for their valuable assistance in making this story so much better.
Barnacles and Brothers
I was pacing nervously after the neighbor kid left me. I couldn't stand it. I had to go back and tell that bastard barnacle what I thought of him. I planned on telling him that I knew he was abusing William and if he didn't stop, I was going to make his life a living hell. It occurred to me that I was too late to make that threat, since he was already in a living hell of his own making. He was dragging his family into the same hell. I thought and thought how I could get it out of him what exactly he was doing to William. I needed to trick him somehow. I considered acting like I already knew everything and dropping the part about locking William out of the house as evidence that William had confided in me.
As I walked up the lane and approached the trailer, I saw that the old barnacle had company. A thin, greasy man stood on the doorstep furiously sucking on a cigarette and waving his hands expressively in animated conversation. I ducked between two neighboring mobile homes and went around the back. I crept carefully through the weeds to the edge of the adjacent motor home and kept concealed between a battered, old, metal storage shed and the neighbor's faded, pink trailer. The sun had so faded the pink paint that it was more the fleshy color of my old dog's penis. "Doggy dink pink!" I thought.
I was close enough that I could hear the conversation. Mr. Thames was standing on the porch holding a large black lawn and leaf bag. The contents were oddly shaped. "This one's too big. I told you I like smaller ones," Mr. Thames said.
"Listen Will, it ain't that damn easy. You can't call me at the last minute and think it's so damn easy to get one. You're not in a position to be picky here."
"All right, but in the future make them smaller. Is it at least fresh?"
"Hell yeah, it's still warm."
"Good. I've got to get started on it before my nosy wife and dumbass kid get home."
"Hold on. When am I gonna get paid? I ain't got nothin' but promises from you so far. It ain't worth the risk. If I get caught, I could go to jail and I ain't doing it for nothin' no more."
"I told you. You'll get paid well when I succeed. I'm really close."
"Bullshit! I've heard that before. The shit you're giving me hasn't worked one damn bit. I think you're full of bullshit."
"I explained this to you before. You're in the control group. Nothing's supposed to happen to you because you're not getting the real stuff. It's working on the others and wait until you see the transformation on my idiot kid. In a couple weeks, you won't believe your eyes when you see how I transformed him."
The plastic bag rotated slowly in Mr. Thames hand and I tried to figure out what was in it. It was maybe sticks or something long that poked out from a larger mass in the bottom. The greasy guy flicked the stub of his cigarette over the railing and moved toward his car. "I'm just telling you, if you want me to keep supplying 'em, you better cough up some green stuff and I ain't talking about your disgusting phlegm. Hah! Phlegm - Green Stuff! Get it?"
Mr. Thames shook his head and disappeared with his bag of whatever into the mobile home securing the door behind him. I heard the deadbolt clack as it latched. The visitor slithered to his run-down, primer gray Celica and drove off mumbling to himself. I realized as he drove off that my father might be out front waiting for me. I rushed back to the curb and spied my father's Mercedes rounding the corner. I popped open the door and clambered in quickly. "Let's go. I need to try and catch William and his mom at their church. It's the Presbyterian Church with the big cross out front down on Maple Street."
"Okay," Dad said as he pulled from the curb even as I was buckling up. "So tell me what's going on."
"William's old man … umm, father came to the door. He was obviously drunk as usual. He told me that William wasn't home and then started cussing me out about the bonfire mess. He accused me of setting William up to be humiliated. I got angry and told him off and he basically told me to get lost. So I came out here fuming and sat on the curb. This kid from the trailer park came up to me and asked if I was Willy's friend and I said I was. So he starts telling me how sorry he feels for William because his dad locks him out all day sometimes when his mom's not home and says he's mean to him. What really upset me though, is that the kid says sometimes he hears William crying out from inside the trailer and pleading with his father to stop doing something to him. The kid said his mom called the police over it once but William refused to say anything had happened and he didn't have any marks on him, so the police just left."
"Hmm, I see. I never observed any signs of abuse when I examined him. He's certainly had a thorough exam of his whole body by several medical professionals recently and if there were any evidence, I'm sure they would have mentioned it to me. There's not much that can be done if William won't talk about it. So exactly what do you have in mind when we get to the church?"
"I want to talk to William and his mom. I want to make her aware of what I just found out. What would you think of letting him come live with us to protect him from that bastard father of his?"
My dad sighed and was thoughtful for a minute. "Let's assume for a minute that something is going on. What if his mom already knows about it?"
"What?"
"What if she already knows about what's going on and isn't willing to do anything about it? Or possibly, whatever it is, isn't a big deal," dad expounded.
"Well, that can't be, or she would have left already to protect William. And Dad, I'm telling you, something messed up is going on with him."
"Kyle, your motives are pure, but you're jumping to conclusions on some really limited knowledge. You got some third hand information from a young neighbor boy. What if William is just telling his father to stop drinking or maybe to stop spitting on the floor? Who knows? You can't just assume he's abusing him and start accusing."
"Dad, you've never met this guy. He's a real creep. Just before you came to pick me up, he had a really creepy visitor. He was delivering something in a plastic trash bag that William's dad ordered him to get. The guy was asking for payment but Mr. Thames said he wouldn't pay him until he succeeded. Whatever he's trying to succeed at involves William. It all just stinks, I'm telling you."
"No, you're right, I've never met him, but it doesn't change the fact that you don't have any real evidence to go on. And creepy people usually do have creepy friends. None of what you've told me is in any way conclusive or proves any wrong doing. You just can't go off half cocked and start accusing someone of committing abuse."
"Dad, where are you going? Maple is the other way."
"I know. We're not going to the church. We're going home."
"No, Dad! I mean it. William is in trouble and I know it. Look, I won't make any accusations if I can just go talk to him. I need to apologize to him tonight. Please."
"You promise not to go off accusing his father of abuse or anything else like that?"
"I promise. I'll just apologize for leaving him alone at the bonfire."
"All right. I'm not saying we shouldn't do some investigation into your suspicions. In private, you can try to get William to discuss it with you. But don't overdo it and press him too hard. Don't try to convince him that your theories are right, because if you try to do that, he may agree with you just to be agreeable. That could ignite a firestorm." Having said his piece, my dad made a U-turn and we headed back toward the church on Maple Street.
The sign out front amused me a little. It read: The Rock of Salvation Presbyterian Church. I was shocked to see the parking lot was mostly empty. That didn't make sense for such a large church. We walked in and William was sitting in the foyer reading from the Bible. He looked up in puzzlement when he realized it was me. "For what purpose have you ventured into this house of worship?" William asked setting aside the Bible. My father walked off and pretended to read the bulletin board.
"I came to find you. Where are all the people at? Why are you sitting alone out here?"
"The congregation has dispersed to their homes. Services ended hours ago."
"So why are you still here?"
"My mother is meeting with Pastor Morgan. I accompanied her. My father did not desire my presence at home this evening."
"Really? Why not?"
"I am unaware. He did not confide in me the particulars. To what end have you sought me out here at my place of worship?"
"I need to apologize for last night. I need you to know I had no idea any of that would happen. I thought you were safe watching the movie with Gina and I left you to go help Dig and Rochelle with a problem they were having and I'm just really sorry for what happened to you. Please forgive me, William."
"You lied to me. You vowed not to leave me. My father said you did it on purpose so your real friends could laugh at me. He said you are not really my friend. He said you convinced me to have my penis mutilated so that you could take me there and let your real friends make fun of me."
"That's a ridiculous lie! He's the liar. I made a mistake. Haven't you ever made a mistake before? Think about how ridiculous it sounds for us to do that to you. Besides, it wasn't any of my friends who pantsed you. It was those stupid drunk buddies of Hawk, Bodie's brother. My friends wouldn't do that to you. I'd never do anything to hurt you or make you feel bad on purpose. I am your real friend. I totally mean that. Please forgive me."
William looked me in the eye for a long time without any discernible expression on his face. My father had turned and was watching us. William reached for his Bible and began flipping through the pages. I looked over at my father in exasperation. He motioned for me to be patient by raising both palms toward me then pressing a single finger to his lips.
"In St. Mark, chapter 11, verse 25, I was just reading, 'And when ye stand praying, forgive, if ye have ought against any: that your Father also which is in heaven may forgive you your trespasses. But if ye do not forgive, neither will your Father which is in heaven forgive your trespasses.'"
"So does that mean you forgive me?" I asked.
"I am most grateful that you sought me out this evening. My heart was greatly troubled at the supposed loss of our friendship. "
I reached a hand out and pulled him to his feet. I took him into an embrace and hugged him. He stood stiffly with his arms to his side and then very tentatively placed his hands around my back. "William, I can't promise you that nothing bad will ever happen to you again. It was stupid of me to promise something like that in the first place. Bad stuff happens to lots of really good people. I don't know why that is. I can promise you this, though. I'll never purposely hurt you or allow you to be hurt. I'll be there for you anytime you need me. My dad will too. Won't you dad?"
My father stepped up to us and put his hand on William's shoulder. "That's right. If you ever need a place to go to be safe, you can come to our house. If you ever need anything, we will be there for you."
"Thank you sir, your magnanimous generosity is greatly appreciated." William said sincerely.
The door in the hallway opened and Mrs. Thames walked out of the office followed by a very distinguished, tall, middle aged man in a black suit, white shirt and black tie. His hair was jet black with just a small hint of grey at the temples. I assumed him to be Pastor Morgan. Upon seeing my father, Mrs. Thames flushed a bit, straightened her dress, and hurriedly stuffed something into her purse. She confirmed my suspicion as she introduced Pastor Morgan to my father and then introduced me as an acquaintance of William's from school.
"I'm William's friendactually, not just an acquaintance," I corrected.
Pastor Morgan was very gracious and I felt drawn to him. He praised my father for lending such a valuable, helping hand to correct William's medical problem. William shot his mother a questioning glance, which she ignored.
"Are you two church-goers?" the Pastor asked.
"No, I'm afraid we don't attend any organized religion. I do believe in God, but I've been quite delinquent in my parental duties to share any kind of real faith with my son. He actually has recently gained an interest in God and religion as a result of his friendship with young William here," dad explained.
"I see. And how do you feel about that?" the Pastor pursued further.
"Fine. I actually agreed to begin attending church as often as my schedule would permit, if Kyle decided to start attending."
Turning his attention to me, he asked, "So Kyle, are you interested in attending church services?"
"I think so, yes." William beamed when he heard me say that.
"Would you consider joining our congregation? I am quite proud of the good work we do here."
"I guess so. I really don't know one church from another. But William and his mom attend here, so it would be nice to know someone."
"Wonderful!" exclaimed Pastor Morgan, flashing a broad smile. "If you would like, you may attend our youth group for their activity night on Wednesdays. You might drag William along. He generally only attends Sabbath services." Pastor Morgan exuded a warmth and acceptance that drew me in.
"What do you say, William? Will you come with me? But you have to "vow" not to leave me alone there. I need you to hang with me, so I'll feel comfortable around a bunch of new people I don't know." I smiled and winked at him.
William looked torn. I could see the fears churning inside of him. I imagined the fear of being in a social situation, especially so soon after the last disaster, yet I sensed some excitement in being able to show me around and take the lead for a change. "Yes. I will accompany you and assist with introductions, since you require my assistance." Smiling, he added as an afterthought, "This makes us brothers in Christ."
"I like that. I've always wanted a brother."
"Yes, as have I," William said. His eyes were moist and so were mine.
"Great." I held my hand up and we bumped knuckles. I thought it would have been uncomfortable for him to hug with everyone watching us.
"Kyle," began Pastor Morgan, "could I speak with you in my office for a moment before you go?"
"Sure, I guess so."
"Is that all right with you, Mr. Davis?"
"Certainly. I'd actually like a minute to speak with Mrs. Thames as well."
I followed Pastor Morgan into his office. It was fairly large and there were nice pictures of scripture stories on the walls. There were pictures of Noah and the Ark, Moses, Christ preaching to a large multitude, and a picture of Christ being baptized. It was odd to me that the artist depicted Christ entering the water naked, from a backside perspective and mostly submerged. John the Baptist was clothed in skins. A white dove flew overhead and a small gathering of people were on the shore. In the Garden of Eden picture, the artist cleverly placed foliage and the head of a lion to obscure the private parts of the innocent naked couple. They were smiling fondly at each other and I was immediately reminded of Scotty's parents and their passionate kiss and looks of loving tenderness.
"Kyle, I want to thank you for your friendship to William. He holds a very special place in my heart. He has a difficult life and bears his burdens with great courage. It is rare that someone of your obvious athleticism and social status would befriend a boy such as William. His mother filled me in briefly with her understanding of the, well … difficult situation at the bonfire party last night. Can you further enlighten me on it?"
"I felt horrible about it. I really care about William. I started out being annoyed by him at first, I can't lie. But, as I've gotten to know him, I've come to realize what an amazing person he is. He's helped me more than I've helped him. He taught me the value of prayer. So when that happened last night, I was completely freaked out over it. I hope I haven't like really messed him up from it. While I was away from him for a short period at the party, because another friend needed me for something, they started playing this stupid game where the loser of a race has to moon the crowd. When William refused to do it, they ganged up on him and pantsed him in front of everyone, and he was totally freaked out about it. I'm pretty relieved that he seems already willing to forgive me. I didn't expect it to happen so easily."
"I think he is still quite 'freaked out' as you say. But his desperate need for your friendship is forcing him to take another risk on you. You can't let him down again though. If you don't intend to continue as his friend in spite of any negative consequences you might encounter from it, then you should break it off now. If you are sincere about your feelings toward him as a friend, then I am much relieved. Do you understand what I'm saying?"
"Yes. I get it. I promise you that I won't purposely hurt him."
"All right. I'm satisfied with that. Thank you so much. It means a lot to me personally. I care about him and his dear mother deeply."
"I can tell. Can I tell you something else that's bothering me?"
"Of course," Pastor Morgan agreed. He leaned forward in his chair and gave me his full attention.
"Well, I sort of told my dad that I wouldn't bring this up, but I feel like I can trust you with it." The Pastor leaned in even closer.
"I'm worried that William's father is abusing him somehow. I don't have any real evidence of it, but I was talking to this kid in his neighborhood, and he told me that the drunken creep locks William out of the house for like all day sometimes leaving William crying on the steps. He also said that he hears William crying out for his father to stop doing something to him once in a while. He's a miserable drunk who belittles William constantly. William won't admit to me that anything is going on and just says he has to honor his father and mother like one of the Ten Commandments says." I nodded toward the picture on the wall of Moses holding the stone tablets.
"Yes I agree with your description of his unfortunate male role model. He is verbally abusive and I have spoken with William about ignoring his unkind comments. The idea that physical abuse might be going on is new and very disturbing. See if you can get William to give you some concrete information. Just don't press it if he withdraws. Now that I'm aware, I will see if I can coax anything out of him as well."
"Okay. That's what my dad suggested also. Thanks."
"Thank you. See you on Wednesday then."
"For sure."
When we came out of the office, everyone stood up and we all left together. I held the door open for William and his mother and as William filed out of the door, I noticed something that made me smile inside and out. William was wearing one dress shoe and on the other foot was the sole remaining shoe I had bought for him. I wondered if he slept with it on. It hit me stronger than ever how important I really was to William. I determined to live up to that responsibility no matter what.
On the way home, I asked dad if we could stop by the mall. "What for?" he asked.
"I want to get a replacement shoe for the one that was lost at the bonfire. Did you notice he was wearing the one that I gave him with a dress shoe on the other foot?"
"Hmm, I did notice it; I just thought it was one of his quirks. That's kind of sweet."
"Sweet? Can't you think of a little more masculine word for it?"
"Hmm, cute?" I shook my head back and forth and playfully scowled at him.
"All right, then how about tender?"
"Wow, are you serious? You're going in the wrong direction here."
"Let's see. How about, that's a real macho sign of male bonding, dude!" I busted out laughing and so he did too. We sniggered on and off about it all the way to the mall.
Unfortunately, we got there too late. The mall was already closed up early because it was Sunday evening. Dad sensed my disappointment and agreed to bring me back after practice on Monday. I was thrilled that he sensed how important it was for me to replace the shoe for William.
"What've we got to eat at home? I'm hungry."
"Well," Dad began, "there's plenty. We have moldy chicken, wilted lettuce, and stale bread. How's that sound?"
"It sounds like we should stop at a restaurant."
My dad agreed and we went to the Elephant Bar restaurant. It was right there in the parking lot of the mall, and we both really enjoy it. I had the Chicken and Shrimp Jambalaya. I love all the Cajun spices in the sauce. I decided to splurge a little since I'd been really good all weekend and had a pound or two to spare and still make weight. Besides, I didn't have to make weight again until Thursday. Dad ordered the Salmon and we both just drank water with a slice of lemon in it. He's into healthy eating, being a doctor and all. He has one vice, though; I catch him eating Oreo cookies with milk every now and then. He pulls them apart and licks the frosting off before eating the cookie part.
"Dad," I asked, "What did you and William's mom talk about while I was talking to Pastor Morgan?"
"I mentioned our need for a cleaning person and asked if she knew anyone that might be interested. I also let her know that if she or William ever needed anything, they should feel free to call us no matter what it might be. I just wanted to open the door to her and let her know if she needed a place to escape to, we were an available resource without being too intrusive."
"You're good at that. I wish I could learn to be a little more diplomatic like you are."
"You will. It comes with age."
"So Dad, are you really serious about attending church with me?"
"Yes, as long as I can. I'd really like that."
"Cool, we can rock it together at the Rock of Salvation."
"You don't seem to hang out with your old 'Screw Crew' as much as you used to. Why is that?" Dad asked out of the blue.
"Well, Dig's got a girlfriend and since Bodie doesn't wrestle, I don't see him all that much at school, so we just don't plan stuff that much. Plus, I started hanging out with Scotty and Kirk and they're really cool. You met Kirk but you should meet Scotty. His parents are really neat people too. A little, umm, different, but in a good way."
"Different how?"
"Well, just different. They're really into all natural stuff. That's where I got the taste for carrot juice." Our food came and saved me from having to get into further detail. I leaned in and drew in a deep breath. The Cajun spices enticed my senses, so I inserted my nose into the aromatic steam and drew in a deep breath. I closed my eyes dreamily and smiled in ecstasy. I took a large bite and chewed slowly, sensually savoring the tender morsels from front to back and side to side, allowing each of my taste buds to be fully stimulated by the erotic mixture of spices. The texture of the sauce covered noodles slid romantically between my tongue and the roof of my mouth, slithering deep into my throat, and then I instinctively swallowed with a sigh and a moan.
I opened my eyes and saw my dad smiling at me in high amusement. "Shut up!" I said blushing.
"I didn't say anything," my father protested.
"Yes you did; you just didn't say it out loud."
"Well okay, but I really wish I had that on film. That was priceless." Dad was chuckling and smiling at me as if I were a small, amusing infant playing with my food. I didn't mind though. The attention was nice. He reached over and speared one of my small shrimps with his fork.
He plucked it off his fork and studied it for a second before popping it into his mouth. "Mmm, I love these little devils."
"What were you thinking before you ate that shrimp just now?"
"Hmm, oh nothing."
"Don't lie. Something flashed in your eyes like a memory of some kind. What was it?"
"Well okay, when I was a kid, I had good friend we called Shrimp."
"And?"
"And what?"
"And the rest of the story is?"
"All right. I had three special friends in the neighborhood I grew up in." Dad looked over at the two fat broads gossiping about another woman in their office at the next table. He lowered his voice a notch. "We were inseparable. Sort of like how you and the Screw Crew are, or were. One of them, Donny Barker, we called shrimp because when we were about seven or eight years old, we were all over to his house one day. We were in the house all by ourselves and we got talking about girls and sex stuff, and Timothy dared us all to pull down our pants and show each other our little wieners. That was my word for a penis at that age. Well after some giggling and no small amount of peer pressure, we counted to three and pulled our shorts and briefs to the floor. We all focused on Donny's amazing little wiener that was uncircumcised. None of us knew anything about circumcision; we all assumed everyone's penis looked like our own. Timothy pointed and said, 'Donny's looks like one of those little shrimp thingy's my mom eats.'"
I snickered. "What did Donny say?"
"Nothing, he just clapped both hands over his privates and turned around to pull up his pants. After that, we always called him Shrimp. He hated it at first, but later on he wore it as a badge of honor. He confided in me once that he talked to his father about it, and his father told him that his boy part was special and better than the other boys' private parts that didn't have skin on them and that made him feel better. He said his dad even showed him his penis, or pecker, as he called it, to let him know his looked the same as Donny's. He told me it was really big and had lots of hair on it. My goodness, I haven't thought about those guys in a long time. I should look them up. We were such great friends. It's a shame that such wonderful friendships drift apart."
"Oh man that's a great story. You know there's a ton about your life I don't have any idea about. What was it like growing up for you? I bet Gram and Gramps were great parents."
Sometimes you have to be careful what you ask. My dad launched into story after story of all the exploits of the Musketeers. That's what Gram called his little group. I didn't really mind too much because it was kind of fun to hear all his stories and even fun to see how he lit up as he remembered all the good old times.
I couldn't resist and I leaned in toward him and asked, "So tell me, how did you learn how to, umm, 'you know?' Did Timothy teach you?"
Dad blushed a bit, glanced at the annoying women again and then smirked. "You really want to know that?"
"Yeah. I do."
"Okay. Well, we were over at Shrimp's house, and we were just hanging out. His mom had run to the store and we were all alone. He was an only child. We were in junior high, seventh grade at the time, so we were probably twelve or thirteen, I guess. Anyway, only Timothy had any pubic hairs. The rest of us were bald and pretty small still." Just then, we were startled by the waitress wanting to know if everything was all right. We assured her it was and she left. I was relieved that dad continued with his story. Neither of us were sure how much she heard before we realized she was standing there.
"So Timothy blurted straight out, 'Who spanks their monkey?' I remember that's the way he said it. I had no idea what he meant. I'd discovered recently that rubbing myself in the shower felt good and made my penis get stiff, but I had no idea it did anything more than that. I still thought it was only useful for urinating. I can't believe I'm telling you this in a restaurant. Good thing it's not crowded."
I polished off the last of my jambalaya and said with my mouth full, "Go on."
"Well Max knew what he meant and he got all embarrassed and told Timothy to shut up about that stuff. I could sense that Shrimp was in the dark like me, but we both tried to play it off and act cool about it. Timothy saw right through Max and started bugging Max about doing it. He said, 'You do it, I can tell.' And he asked him how he did it. Max kept blushing and refusing to get drawn in. When Timothy asked me, I gave him the old standby answer, 'Maybe I do and maybe I don't. Wouldn't you like to know?' He couldn't tell if I knew about it, or whether I did it or if I didn't, my bluff was so good. Then he said, 'Well my brother and his buddies were talking and I overheard them and they did this thing called a circle jerk, spanking each other's. You guys wanna try it?' Max was all freaked out now and said something like, 'You mean in front of each other?' Timothy replied, 'Hell yeah. It'll be fucking awesome,' he said. 'Besides,' he continued, 'we've all seen each other naked before in gym and at camp so it's no big deal.'"
I was leaning on both forearms and completely engrossed in the story. Dad took a sip of his water and continued, "I was shocked with his use of that kind of language. It clued me in that whatever he was suggesting we do was definitely taboo and had something to do with us getting naked. I got kind of excited and scared at the same time. We just didn't use that kind of language ever around our house, and besides a little of 'I'll show you mine if you show me yours,' I'd never done any naked stuff with others. Timothy was always the dodgy one of the group. Finally, after we all promised on our mother's graves not to ever tell anyone that we did it, we pulled off our pants and underwear, sat Indian style, knee to knee and stared at each other's penises for a minute without speaking. Timothy and Max already had erections, since they knew what was up. I looked across at Shrimp and he had the same deer in the headlights look that I assumed I had. I was fascinated by Tim's larger, erect penis, probably three plus inches and fairly thick, with a few dark black pubic hairs at the base where it protruded from his abdomen. His balls hung loosely between his legs. Shrimp's penis didn't look much different from when we showed each other our jewels at the age of eight. Mine had grown but was still hairless and fairly small. Max was about my size and our balls were still mostly just little, crinkly pouches. Timothy reached over and took my penis in his fingers and started pulling on it. Max did the same thing to Shrimp. Instantly, my penis began to inflate and so did Shrimp's. Are you sure you want all these details?"
"Oh yeah! this is awesome. Go on," I said in rapt attention.
"Okay. So Max said 'What are you waiting for you spaz, do mine.' I reached over with a shaking hand and took his penis in my fingers and began pulling the skin up and down like Timothy was doing to mine. I remember to this day, the rush of excitement I felt when I actually touched another boy's privates. Shrimp got the clue and started on Timothy's penis. Very soon, we were all squirming and I distinctly remember Timothy's large feet twitching wildly and then he would suddenly clench his toes. Shrimp arched his back and told Max to stop because something was tingling in his prick. Then Timothy called out, 'Okay, reverse directions everyone. Do the person on your left now.' We all switched and I started rubbing Timothy's. It was big enough that he showed me how to use my whole palm on his bigger prick instead of just a couple of fingers. That was another new exciting experience. It didn't take long after I started rubbing his that way until he sucked in a breath and stiffened up all over. It scared me. I thought I'd injured him and stopped rubbing it. 'Don't stop you dipshit,' he growled, 'go faster.' So I rubbed as fast as I could with my left hand, but it had been much easier to do Max with my right hand. Still, I felt it happen as his penis surged in my palm and then witnessed the most amazing thing I had ever seen. It was better than peeking in Cathy Jensen's window and seeing her naked tits. Timothy squirted white stuff out of his penis and onto his stomach and my hand. I cried out in surprise and disgust thinking he'd peed on me at first and wiped my hand frantically on the carpet. Timothy started giggling. Then Shrimp arched his back again and said, 'Oh man, oh man, oh man as his little shrimp clenched in Timothy's fingers twitched and jerked. He shook his whole butt in little spasms. He stopped doing Max's so Max grabbed his own with his right hand and did us both. That sent Max and I over the edge, and I remember vividly how the tingles started in the tip of my little penis and travelled all the way up my spine to my brain where it seemed like an explosion took place. I swear it was like a twenty minute firework show in my brain. I've never been quite the same from that day forth. And that's how I learned to umm…" glancing at the ladies again, he completed the sentence with a hushed, "you know."
"Wow. That's so cool. It's like I got to see you, my father, in a whole new kind of way. Like, you really were a little kid once just like I was. You really had to go through all that growing up and discovery stuff too."
"Yeah. I'm not so different from you. It's the circle of life, I guess. Let's get out of here if you're finished. You can tell me about your first time on the ride home." He smiled and winked at me.
We left without dessert and drove home with more stories and questions about his fun times in junior high school with the Musketeers. He actually gave me an idea to try out with the Screw Crew next time we get together - pool hopping sounds really fun. I tried to avoid sharing my first time, but he was relentless until I told him. I told him how Bodie had described it to me and demonstrated on his finger. I explained about heading out to pretend to pick berries and then going to my secret spot in the woods where he'd helped me hang a rope swing. I gave all the details of my first experience on the big log and how much my first dry orgasm sounded just like his.
"Is that the same spot you and Kirk run to in the mornings?" he asked.
"Yeah, that's where we turn around to head back from," I answered honestly.
"Is it fun doing 'you know' with him?"
"Oh ye… umm, what? Oh wow, that was slick. How did you know?" I was sure my face was going to spontaneously combust it was so suddenly hot.
My dad chuckled, very pleased with himself. "I thought so. I was born at night but it wasn't last night. Don't worry, though, I don't have a problem with it. Don't be embarrassed. I did my share of sword play with the Musketeers in my day after that first experience at Shrimp's house. It's pretty normal behavior for boys your age." Well normal or not, it was sort of the conversation breaker. Neither of us knew where to go with it after that.
As we pulled into the driveway, I asked dad if we had a Bible. He told me where to find it in the library bookshelves. I retrieved it when we got home and thumbed through it. I carried it up to my room and stripped out of my clothes. It felt good to be naked. I plopped on my bed. My belly was full, my friendship with William was miraculously restored, and my relationship with my father was stronger than ever. I grabbed my cell phone and called Scotty.
"Hey dude."
"Hey Rock. What's up?"
"I had to call you and let you know that I took your advice and went to see William."
"So how'd it go?"
"Better than I expected. We tracked him down at his church. He'd been reading the Bible and had just read a part that was about forgiveness and so he forgave me. Just like that. Wild, huh?"
"That's great, dude. I'm glad you went. You know it was no coincidence that he'd been reading that passage. He was probably directed to turn there by God's Spirit."
"You think?"
"Yeah, I totally believe in that kind of thing. Just like I was inspired to call and talk to you after I heard about it. It was like something wouldn't leave me alone until I called you."
"Wow. Cool. Hey, I want you to know I really appreciate your thoughtfulness in calling me. It's like so cool of you to do that. I feel like such a complete ass for all the crap I gave you before we became friends. I need to ask for your forgiveness."
"Done. We already kissed and made up, remember?"
"Yeah, I didn't know that whole repenting thing could be so fun," I joked. Scotty just chuckled. "Oh and guess what?" I added.
"What?"
"The name of the church was Rock of Salvation. Crazy, huh? I think I'm going to start attending there. I mean, how can I go wrong since they named the place after me?"
"Really? Did you meet Pastor Morgan?" Scotty asked.
"Umm, yeah. How did you know that?"
"I know him."
"Do you go to church there?"
"No. I just know him from somewhere." I could tell Scotty was purposely avoiding telling me how he knew him, so I didn't press him on it.
"Anyway, thanks for your call and encouraging me to go apologize tonight."
"You're welcome. So see you tomorrow?"
"Yeah, see ya." I hung up and realized I had been absentmindedly stroking myself into a state of erection. I considered having a nice slow jack-off session while I reminisced about kissing and making up with Scotty. However, my throat was feeling a little sore, so I decided to go get a cup of Chamomile tea with a little honey and lemon in it first. I thought about pulling on a pair of shorts but decided what the heck and just went nude. I figured Dad would be in his room anyway. By the time I reached the kitchen, I was down to semi hard and was surprised to see my dad sitting at the table with a stack of Oreo cookies and a tall glass of milk. He was also naked and relaxing. He looked up and smiled at me. I was a bit embarrassed at first, out of habit mostly, in having a semi stiffie going, but I just smiled back and shrugged. I filled a cup with water and stuck it in the microwave. I felt his eyes on me.
"You are a very handsome young man. You have an amazing body. I know how hard you've worked to get in such good shape and I'm proud of you. You're even more beautiful in the nude, like some sort of Greek sculpture."
"Dad! Geez, that's embarrassing."
"Don't be embarrassed by legitimate and honest compliments, son. I'm a little amazed at your large testicles. I'm not sure which gene pool they came from, certainly not mine. Are you checking them regularly like I taught you to do for any sign of cancerous lumps?"
"Yes Dad, I check them like every time I shower. You freaked me out so bad about boys my age getting cancer of the balls that I'm like fanatical about it."
"Do you want me to examine them for you? I haven't done that for a long time for you."
"No! I seriously check them all the time. If even the slightest hint of a lump shows up, I'll show you. Trust me. I think the only things on earth that get felt up more often than my balls are Lindsay Lohan's tits." He burst out laughing.
"What're you reading?" I asked to hopefully change the subject.
"Just a medical journal."
"Why?"
"I have to stay current with what's happening in the profession. Things change quickly and if I'm going to be effective for my patients, I have to stay up on new methodologies."
"That sucks. So you're like never done with school?"
"I guess not, but it doesn't 'suck' as you say. I like learning. Learning's the most rewarding and exciting thing in life … well, most rewarding, but second most exciting thing in life." He smiled wryly.
"Second? What's first?"
"Umm, you know!"
"Huh? Ohhhhh! Funny."
"Seriously though, being able to learn and grow your mind is what keeps you alive. When you stop learning, you stagnate and start dying." Dad turned his attention back to his article.
"I guess I can see that." I pulled the hot water from the microwave and it was so hot it burned my fingers. I gingerly rushed it to the countertop and added the teabag to it.
"It's still early enough; would you like to play a game together?" Dad asked suddenly.
"A game? Where did that come from?"
"I don't know. I was just thinking how much fun we used to have playing games together. I know; how about a game of chess? We used to play that every Sunday."
"Chess? No way, that would take too long. I need my beauty sleep," I complained.
Dad got up and walked into the pantry just outside the kitchen where we kept our games in a cupboard. "There's Candyland," he called out.
I cracked up. "Yeah right. I thought that game was dumb even when I was a little kid."
"Hmmm, I know! Let's forget the board games and just play a little 'you know' together."
"What?!?!" I said astonished.
"I know it's not as fun with just two, but it would still be fun to play with you and me. It was my favorite pastime as a kid. The other Musketeers and I played with each other all the time. We'd either go in my bedroom and all sit on the bed or else we did it over at Shrimp's place. Sometimes, if the fishing was boring at the pond, we'd find a place to play it up there even. We were always up for a game of it. I haven't played it with anyone else in a really long time."
"Are you serious about this?" I was thinking maybe all the talk about his old times with his buddies and missing my mom was like messing with his head. That, and thinking about me and Kirk doing it together, might have emboldened him. Plus, he was acting kind of turned on by my amazing naked body. I couldn't believe he was really suggesting this. I started to bone up a little, even though the thought of doing it with my dad was a little creepy, it was also sort of tantalizing in a really weird way.
"I'm completely serious. It's a perfect ending for our wonderful father/son bonding evening that we've had. It doesn't take too long to do, so you can still get your precious sleep. It's fun for all ages. It's exciting to see who finishes first. I bet I'll win. He peeked out from around the corner of the pantry doorway, grinned, and bounced his eyebrows a couple times. I used to love making my friends switch directions or change hands just as they were about to end." He came sauntering up to the table grinning with something behind his back. I halfway expected him to already have a boner after the way he'd been talking about doing 'you know' together.
I wondered what he had behind his back. "Could it be some kind of cooking oil or something to use for lube?" I wondered. I was nervous and starting to sweat. I started tugging at my eyebrows. "I guess if you really want to do it that badly, I'll go along, but are you really sure about this?"
"Why are you so hesitant? It'll be fun. You'll love it and want to play again after we do it, I'm sure." I could see he really wanted to this and my heart started pounding in my chest as he teasingly drew his hand out from behind his back. I also knew he would surely respect my wishes if I turned him down. It was critical decision time.
"Ta-da!" he exclaimed as my eyes widened in shocked surprise and sudden embarrassment.
Authors deserve your feedback. It's the only payment they get. If you go to the top of the page you will find the author's name. Click that and you can email the author easily.* Please take a few moments, if you liked the story, to say so.
[For those who use webmail, or whose regular email client opens when they want to use webmail instead: Please right click the author's name. A menu will open in which you can copy the email address (it goes directly to your clipboard without having the courtesy of mentioning that to you) to paste into your webmail system (Hotmail, Gmail, Yahoo etc). Each browser is subtly different, each Webmail system is different, or we'd give fuller instructions here. We trust you to know how to use your own system. Note: If the email address pastes or arrives with %40 in the middle, replace that weird set of characters with an @ sign.]
* Some browsers may require a right click instead