The Jigsaw Puzzle
by Pink Panther
Chapter 6
September 2007
I'm heading back to school. I'm still really upset about what Jimmy did. He knew I'd never done anything before and he took advantage of me. Most of the time I manage to blank it out, but just occasionally, well, it gets to me. But I've just got to try to put it behind me. I'm not going to let it ruin everything. I'm hoping that being back at school will help to take my mind off it.
It's weird, you know. You don't see your classmates for six weeks, and when you get back to school, they've changed, or at least some of them have. They've grown. It may not be much, but it seems like it is. Zav definitely has. It suits him. I'd really fancy him now if he wasn't such an arsehole. Dean's grown too, not taller, I don't think, but he looks older somehow. I've never thought of him as hot before, but he is now. I'd go with him like a shot, except that he's friends with Zav and that . . . complicates things.
And guess what? Even though I've grown almost six inches in the past year, I'm still the smallest. I still look younger than all the other boys too. I wouldn't care, but half of them are actually younger than me. But that's how it is. There's nothing I can actually do about it.
It's morning break when I go to see Mr. Gault.
"Hello, young man!" he says, smiling. "So what have you been doing over the summer?"
I open my art folder and show him the material from the design project.
"This is very good," he says, nodding. "I'd like to display it if that's okay."
"I've asked Claire," I respond. "She said it was fine."
"Right!" he says, "Leave it with me."
"We went to Florence during the holiday," I tell him. "It was amazing, especially the buildings. I think that's what I want to do, sir, you know, be an architect."
"Well, the key thing the architecture schools look for is the ability to draw," he says, looking right at me. "That's what you'll need to focus on."
"Actually, I've been doing some drawing since we got back," I say, taking out my sketch pad and showing him the drawing of the cathedral.
"Not bad at all," he says guardedly. "It definitely shows promise. But you'll need to do a lot more of this. If you're serious about it, you should work on your technique. I've got a couple of books in my office that you might find useful. You're welcome to borrow them."
"Thanks sir!" I say, smiling. "When can I collect them?"
"How about after school tomorrow? I'll get them out ready for you."
We're waiting for afternoon registration. Mrs Vickers' punctuality hasn't improved, not that I'd expected it to. Zav and Dean stroll in. Zav walks across to us.
"Still sitting with the girls, gay boy?" he taunts. "Well, we all know what you are!"
He strides off to his desk. As usual I ignore him, but he's hit his mark. I know it's nothing I haven't heard before, but it's the very first afternoon and he's straight back on it. That's depressing. I'm going to have to deal with it all over again.
Two days later, we're waiting again. Matthew's sitting with us, chatting quietly to Jane. They seem to be getting on really well. I'm happy for them. Zav enters the room and saunters across.
"Oh look!" he announces. "The dirty little gay boy's sitting with the girls again!"
"Why don't you leave him alone?" Jane demands, interrupting her conversation with Matthew. "Oh, I forgot. You're too much of a coward to pick on anyone your own size!"
"Who cares what you think," Zav sneers.
"I wouldn't go out with you if you were the last boy on the planet!" Jane snaps.
"I wouldn't want you to," Zav retorts. "Stupid bitch!"
That gets everyone's attention. There's a collective gasp, followed by total silence. This is a full-on confrontation. You can feel the tension in the room. I'm sure Jane is about to give him a mouthful, but Mrs Vickers walks in and the opportunity's gone.
I feel terrible. Jane didn't need to get involved, but she did cause she's a friend. So Zav called her a stupid bitch. That's not right. This is my fight. I've got to take it on. I have to do what Mr Ashton said. I might not be comfortable with it, but I've got to start giving him some back.
When I arrive for registration the following morning, Matthew's not sitting with the girls. He's sitting on his own looking less than happy.
"What's going on?" I whisper in Rebecca's ear.
"Jane's not speaking to Matthew," she tells me. "He let Zav get away with calling her a bitch. She's really upset about it."
That makes me feel even worse. Jane and Matthew aren't speaking to each other, and it's all because I won't stand up for myself. Well it's got to stop. It's going to stop. I've been a wimp for too long and I'm stopping it right now. Zav can go fuck himself.
Zav's late, as he often is in the mornings. He arrives thirty seconds after Mrs Vickers, so he doesn't have a chance to have a go at me. But later in the day he will. And when he does, I'll be ready for him.
Morning break has just finished. We've got history. Surprise, surprise, we're in the classroom waiting and there's no sign of Mrs Vickers. Zav saunters in. If Mrs Vickers had been on time, he'd have been in trouble.
"Gay boy! Gay boy!" he taunts.
"Oh really!" I retort. "Can't you think of anything original to say?"
"Arse-bandit!" a squeaky voice interjects.
I turn to face the speaker. It's Olly Stephens. Olly's a blob, the one kid in the class that's even worse at games than I am.
"Oh, you needn't worry," I say, remembering to smile. "I wouldn't touch yours with a barge-pole!"
There's general laughter. Olly's gone bright red. He's very self-conscious about his weight. Maybe he shouldn't spend all his time eating. Zav stomps off to his desk looking very put out. I feel much better. For a first try, that went pretty well. With a little help from Olly, I knocked Zav out of his stride. Maybe I can do this.
It's the following day before Zav has another go. We're waiting for afternoon registration. Matthew's sitting with us again, though Jane's being pretty cool with him. Zav strolls in, sees Mrs Vickers isn't there and saunters across.
"Oh look," he sneers. "The little gay boy's here again. You should be careful," he adds, smirking at the girls. "You might catch something."
I'm just about to give him a mouthful when I'm interrupted.
"He's a fairy!" Olly squeaks. "That's why he's so small."
I turn to face him. "Olly! That is so clever!" I say sarcastically. "Did you know there's a new production of The Wizard of Oz? You should audition for the part of the scarecrow. He didn't have a brain either!"
There's a general murmur of what sounds like approval. Olly's gone red again.
"Zav could be the cowardly lion," Smudger suggests.
That causes even more amusement. Zav gives him a look of sheer hatred and stomps back to his desk.
"Nice one!" Matthew whispers to me. "You should have done that ages ago."
He's right. I should.
Year Nine have their games class on Friday afternoons. It's been drizzling on and off for the past couple of days, so I'm hoping the class will be cancelled. I'm out of luck. By lunchtime, the rain's stopped and by the time we get to the Sports Pavilion it's dry enough for us to play. More purgatory: I just get through it as best I can.
Afterwards we're all wet and muddy, so we have to have a shower. Zav tries to argue, saying that as we're about to go home, it doesn't matter whether we're dirty or not. He's wasting his time. The rule is that if we're wet and muddy, we have to have a shower. Arguing the point isn't going to change it.
I see straight away that most of the boys have grown quite a bit down there since I saw them last. At least half of them have hair too. Andrew certainly has. His dick's still smaller than mine, but he's got hair. All I've got are few tiny strands that you can hardly see. Mark still hasn't grown much though. His voice is still quite squeaky too. I guess he'll catch up sometime.
Dean emerges from the showers. I do a double take. The last time I saw him, his dick was smaller than mine. Well, not now it isn't. He's got a monster! His balls are big too and he's got a crop of thick, dark hair right above his dick, matching the hair on his head. I can't believe he's grown so much in just a few months. I'm like 'Wow! What's he been feeding that thing?' And after my encounter with Jimmy, I can think of all sorts of things I'd like to do with it. He is well hot! I hurry back to the changing room, pulling on my boxers before my growing erection becomes too obvious.
It's Monday afternoon registration. Mrs Vickers still hasn't appeared when Zav walks in. I know what's coming. He strolls across.
"You're Ashton's bum-boy!" he accuses.
I'm furious. Zav having a go at me is one thing, but that is totally out of order.
"You're disgusting!" I snap, my eyes blazing. A thought suddenly occurs to me. "Anyway," I demand. "How do you know about that sort of thing?"
Zav hesitates.
"Been after yours, has he Zav?" Smudger enquires.
There's general laughter. That's Smudger all over. He'll say anything to get a laugh. But it's a bonus I wasn't expecting. Far from joining in with Zav's taunting, for a second time he's intervened on my side. Zav looks thoroughly uncomfortable and slinks back to his place. Hmmm! With Smudger's help, I think I won that one!
When I arrive at Junior Arts Club, I'm surprised to find one of the senior boys in the far corner of the art room, working on an oil painting. His name's Phil. I remember him from the choir. He's very good-looking. I stroll across.
"Hi!" I say brightly, smiling at him. "What are you doing here?"
"I was sick at the end of last term," he says. "I had glandular fever. I got behind with my A-level course work. Mr Gault said I could use this time to catch up."
"It looks great," I say, standing back to admire the painting.
"Thanks!" he says, smiling back at me. "I hope the examiner thinks so!"
A moment later, Mr Gault calls us to order and sets us to work. The next hour flies past. Before I know it, it's time to pack up. As I'm putting my stuff away, a boy called Anthony Howes strolls across to me. I'm instantly on my guard. Anthony's in Year Eight. I got one of the art scholarships that the school awarded two years ago. Anthony got one last year.
I've avoided him from the first day I saw him. The main thing that puts me off is his appearance. He's an inch or two taller than me, quite tall for a boy just beginning Year Eight, and very slim. He's actually quite fit-looking, except that he dyes his hair. Over the course of the past year he's had it all sorts of colours: dark brown with crimson streaks, black with electric blue streaks, and dirty blond, his natural colour, with pink and green highlights. Right now, it's almost white. No other boy in the entire school does that. He has it in a strange style too. The front and right hand side are really long so it hangs down over his right eye and covers his right ear. His left ear, with its little gold stud, isn't covered at all. It looks well weird!
Then there's the way he dresses. We're supposed to wear grey trousers for school. His are almost black and very tight, almost like skinny jeans, and he wears very trendy pointy-toed shoes. I know some of the older boys dress like that, but for a twelve year old to do it, it's like he's trying to look older than he is. But more than his appearance, it's his manner that really puts me on my guard. I'm not saying he's unpleasant like Zav, but he has the same sort of swagger about him. From the day he arrived he's seemed totally sure of himself. I'm always wary of kids like him.
"I saw you chatting to Philip earlier on," he says quietly. "You won't get anywhere there. As far as I know, he's one hundred per cent straight."
"I wasn't trying to chat him up," I say defensively.
"You were flashing your lights," he comments.
This is alarming. Not only does he know I'm gay, he's seen me ogling one of the older boys. I hadn't realised it was that obvious.
"It's okay," he says disarmingly. "I like boys too. My gaydar was bleeping. I thought maybe we could talk."
I'm still quite wary of him, but to be fair, he seems okay, really nice in fact. And he's gay, or at least he says he is. That could be a real bonus. Strange, isn't it? When I'm looking for someone like me I get nowhere. When I'm not looking, Anthony falls right into my lap. It's a chance I have to take. And maybe being gay explains his appearance too, you know, a bit like the Scissor Sisters, sort of showy and off the wall. As soon as we've finished packing away, we make our way out.
"We could go to my house," he says. "I live in Grosvenor Terrace, it's only just across the road. Not now though, it's gone five o'clock. Dad will be home from work in a bit. Can you meet me after school tomorrow?"
I nod my agreement. I need to get home too. We quickly make the arrangements.
"See you then!" Anthony says, smiling.
He really is fit when he smiles. I head for the bus-stop with my mind in a whirl. Is this finally what I've been looking for?
I'm not quite sure what Zav will do next. He could just back off, of course, but he won't. That would be totally out of character. In one way or another, he'll raise the stakes. I don't know how, but whatever way it is, I need to be ready for him.
The following afternoon I'm waiting for him to appear for registration. He saunters in, but instead of coming across to us, he goes and sits down.
"Hey, gayboy!" he calls. "Why don't you come over here and suck my cock? You know you want to."
Well that certainly ups the ante. He's never said anything like that before. Most of the girls look shocked, except for Sophie and Amanda, of course.
"Well, I don't know," I counter, grinning at him. "You're so shy when we're in the showers, nobody's ever seen it. I'm not even sure you've got one!"
The girls start giggling. The boys are falling about laughing. They know what Zav's like in the showers as well as I do. But Zav's reaction takes everybody by surprise. He gets to his feet, his face purple with rage. He strides across to me, grabbing the collar of my blazer, his fist raised level with his head. I'm terrified; I don't mind admitting it. But in an instant, Matthew's in his face, pushing him away from me.
"What's your problem, Zav?" he snaps angrily, steadily moving Zav back where he came from. "Very clever when you're dishing it out, aren't you?" he continues. "Ian gives you a bit back and you lose your rag!" He parks Zav in his seat. "Now calm down!" he orders. After a second's pause, he puts his fist right in front of Zav's nose. "And you don't call Jane a stupid bitch!" he growls. "Not ever, right?"
Zav doesn't answer. He doesn't have to. He's been shown up in front of the whole class. Matthew returns to his seat. There's total silence. You could cut the atmosphere with a knife. I glance across. Matthew looks more upset than angry, like it was something he hadn't wanted to do. I can understand that. Despite being the biggest and strongest in the class, he never pushes the other kids around. I'm grateful that he did this time.
The day's finally over. I take my time. I'm meeting Anthony by the newsagents on the corner opposite the school five minutes after the bell goes. I'm not in a rush. As I wander out onto the playground, Rebecca and Louise are standing there chatting.
"Where's Jane," I ask.
"Oh, she's giving Matthew some TLC," Rebecca informs me. "She thinks he deserves it."
I can't stop myself smiling. I'm sure Matthew didn't do it for that, but he does deserve it. So right now he and Jane will be tucked away in one of the school's numerous nooks and crannies. That is so sweet! After everything that's happened, I'm delighted for them. He won't get that far, of course. A bit of a kiss and a cuddle, that'll be it. But being back in Jane's good books, I guess he won't be complaining. I head out of school, glowing again.
When I reach the newsagents, Anthony is just coming out. I walk beside him along the side street leading into Alexandra Square and round a couple of corners onto Grosvenor Terrace, two rows of solid-looking terraced houses with small-paned sash windows and white rendering. I guess they'd have been built in the early years of the last century.
Anthony turns onto the short front path of one of the houses, unlocking the front door. He ushers me inside before leading the way upstairs and into a good sized back bedroom. He flops down on the bed, indicating for me to sit next to him.
"So how long have you known you were gay?" he asks.
"I first suspected I was about a year ago," I tell him. "I went to see the new Harry Potter film. I kept getting a hard-on."
"Yeah, Harry is pretty hot these days," he says.
"So how long have you known?" I enquire.
"Oh, I've known for ages," he says casually
"So have you found anyone . . . you know?"
"I wish!" he says emphatically. "And it's not for want of trying!"
"What d'you mean?" I ask.
"You know, hanging out around the toilets, different times, different places. I thought I'd be bound to meet someone eventually. I never got a sniff."
"I got so desperate I even came onto Mr Ashton." I tell him.
"Oh, you had no chance there!" he said smiling.
"Tell me about it," I say, feeling somewhat embarrassed. "He gave me a right talking-to, you know about his professional responsibilities and all that. He was very good though, really helpful."
"You're not his type in any case," Anthony states.
"What d'you mean?" I ask.
"His partner's a big guy with muscles, obviously works out a lot," Anthony says. "So I'm guessing that's what he goes for. Dad knows them. They came to our barbecue in the summer."
"Really?" I query. "So what does your dad do?"
"He's the Creative Director for an advertising agency," Anthony says. "Gary, Mr Ashton's partner, is a freelance web designer. He designs new websites for some of the agency's clients. I think Mr Ashton was surprised to see me. He doesn't teach me, but he obviously knew I was at the Grammar School."
That figures. Anthony's not easy to miss.
"D'you have Mr Saunders for games?" he asks.
"Yeah, why?" I question.
"You'd have much more chance there," Anthony says. "He always pervs on us when we have a shower afterwards. I hate games, and having him staring at us while we're naked just makes it worse. It's so embarrassing!"
"I've never noticed," I say. "I thought he was just, you know, supervising."
"Oh, he's doing a lot more than supervising!" Anthony asserts. "Of course, that doesn't mean he'd actually do anything. He'd probably think it was too risky."
"Oh," I say absently, not knowing what to think.
"Dad's gay too," Anthony says, like it's no big deal. "His partner lives here with us."
"Don't you mind?" I ask.
"Oh, James is really nice!" Anthony says, smiling. "He's one of the creatives at the agency. He's twenty-three and knows lots of stuff about art and film and photography. So what's not to like?"
"Where's your mum?" I question.
"Ran off to the States with this film producer when I was three," he says, "haven't seen her since."
"So have you and your dad ever . . . , you know?"
"No way!" Anthony says vehemently. "Dad's gay. He's not a perv!"
"Sorry," I say sheepishly. "But he knows you're gay."
"I think so," he says vaguely. "We've never actually talked about it but I'm pretty sure he does. Of course, he'd be alright about me being gay, but he'd be worried what other people would think, like he made me gay, which is total bollocks."
"I guess he's pretty cool about, you know, the way you have your hair and that," I suggest. "I mean it is pretty out there for a twelve year old."
"Thirteen, actually," he says, smirking. "My birthday was last week. I could have my hair all shaved off if I wanted. He wouldn't mind."
"You're not going to, are you?" I ask.
"I don't think so," he says. "I like being able to change the colour though."
Somehow it makes sense. It goes at least some way to explaining why he is like he is. It's a world away from what I'm used to. Fortunately I'm quite happy with the way my hair looks, but it's just as well. Mum would go bananas if I even thought about dyeing it.
"So have you actually done anything yet?" he asks.
"Yeah," I admit. "Only once though, a few weeks ago."
"So what happened?"
I tell him about going to the park, meeting Jimmy and going back to his house.
"So what did you do?" he enquires.
"We felt each other's dicks," I say quietly. "Then we lay on the bed, you know, with our dicks rubbing together."
"Did you kiss?"
"No."
"What about sucking?"
"Yeah."
"Were you okay with that?"
"Not really. I mean I loved it when he sucked mine, but then he asked me do him. His dick was really thick. I couldn't do it very well."
"I'd love to try sucking," he says, eyes sparkling. "So was that it?"
"No," I admit.
Almost in a whisper I tell him the rest of it.
"Oww!" he says, visibly wincing. "That must have hurt! It must have been a shock too, you know, realising that you'd got another boy's cock inside you and what was going to happen."
He's got that right. It definitely was a shock.
"So I guess you won't be doing that again anytime soon!" he says.
"What I don't get," I say, struggling to overcome my embarrassment, "is why I . . . you know."
"Oh, that's your prostate," he informs me. "It's the gland that gets your balls to make spunk. His cock would have been massaging it. That's why some guys enjoy being fucked. Apparently, it's like being wanked off from inside, only ten times better."
He kneels up on the bed, opening the front of his trousers. He takes out his hard dick. It's about the same size as mine, but unlike mine, the head is completely exposed.
"Let's see what you've got then!" he says, grinning.
I kneel facing him and follow his example.
"Nice one!" he breathes, running his fingers over it. It feels wonderful.
"Are you circumcised?" I ask.
"No, just got a short foreskin," he says, easing it forwards. "It comes right back when I get a hard-on." He pauses for a moment. "Come on, let's get naked!"
Within seconds, we're lying on the bed, our dicks rubbing together, just like I did with Jimmy. His balls are also about the same size as mine, and like mine, they're still completely hairless. Mine hang a bit lower than his though, and he's only got a few wispy hairs above his prick, so I guess I'm ahead of him on a couple of fronts.
"Want to try doing a sixty-nine?" he says.
"What?" I ask.
"You know," he says, "Lying top-to-toe so we can suck each other at the same time."
"How d'you know about all this stuff?" I question.
"I've seen it on the internet," he says nonchalantly.
"Haven't you got parental controls?"
"Nah, Dad never set them up."
"Promise you won't squirt in my mouth."
"Yeah, okay," he agrees. "I'll tell you if I'm going to cum."
Moments later we're doing it. And this time I can do it properly. I can't believe how good it is. Anthony slips his hand between my legs, stroking the area behind my balls. Oh wow! Just as I thought it couldn't get any more exciting, it has. I do the same to him. It's pretty obvious that he likes it too. Suddenly I feel myself getting close.
"Anthony!" I gasp. "I'm gonna . . ."
It may have been too late anyway, but he makes no attempt to pull off. Man! That was something else! After a few seconds he lets me go. I keep right on. I'm not going to wimp out this time.
"I'm gonna cum," he warns.
I move my head away, watching intently as the little drops of watery fluid spurt onto his tummy. After a few seconds, I snake around, turning to face him.
"Mmmm, nice!" he says, smiling. "You cum a lot don't you?"
"Yeah!" I confirm. "That was wicked! Did you swallow it?"
"Yeah!" he responds, grinning. "It's only protein. It won't hurt you."
So okay, I did wimp out. Well I won't next time. We quickly get dressed.
"Wanna meet again Friday?" he asks.
"Yeah, sure!" I tell him.
"You can find your way here, can't you?" he asks. I nod. "Just remember it's number eighteen," he continues. "Don't rush. Give it ten minutes after school finishes, yeah?"
"Sure," I say, smiling.
Two minutes later I'm on my way to the bus-stop, hardly able to believe what's just happened. That was so exciting. I was with a really cute boy. Better still, it was a boy from school, someone I can totally trust. What could possibly be better than that? Friday can't come fast enough.
So much has happened it's hard to take it all in. I'm not sure what Zav's going to do next but I'm pretty sure he won't have a go at me in the classroom again. It's not just that I've had the measure of him the last couple of times. Matthew is seriously pissed off with him. He won't want to risk another confrontation.
He saunters into afternoon registration with Dean in tow. I was right. He ignores me completely. It's a welcome change. But I don't think he'll just let it go. I don't know how exactly, but he'll find another way to have a go at me. So I'll have to stay on my guard. This isn't over by any means.
It's Thursday lunchtime. I emerge from the dining hall and head out onto the playground. I spot Anthony on his own. I stroll across. He's got pink streaks in his hair.
"Hi!" I say quietly. "Everything okay?"
"Yeah, course!" he says confidently. "So you're into design then? I saw the project you did over the summer. Mr Gault's put it on display. It's good, man!"
"Thanks!" I say.
"I'm more into painting and sculpture," he says. "That's what I want to do."
"I don't know much about sculpture," I say.
Zav and Dean walk past, a few yards away.
"Look at those two queers!" Zav shouts at us.
"Who are you calling queer?" Anthony retorts.
I'm alarmed. For all Anthony's confidence, Zav is taller than he is, heavier too. He swaggers across, Dean trailing behind. My heart's in my mouth.
"Are you looking for trouble?" Zav challenges.
Anthony doesn't flinch. He doesn't answer. He just stands there, arms by his sides, fists loosely clenched, his pale blue eyes trained on Zav's.
"Leave it, man!" Dean urges.
Zav hesitates.
"Come on," Dean adds, looking increasingly uncomfortable. "Let's go!"
The two of them stride away. I breathe a sigh of relief. I'm not sure how, but we got away with it.
I stroll into afternoon registration and sit down with the usual gang.
"What happened on the playground?" Rebecca asks.
"I was chatting to Anthony Howes," I say. "Zav and Dean walked past. Zav called us queers. Anthony shouted back at him. There was a bit of a confrontation."
"How d'you know Howesy?" Matthew asks.
"Junior Arts Club," I say. "Anyway Dean told Zav to leave it, so they just went off."
"Good decision," Matthew says. "Zav's nothing. He'd have got battered."
I look at him like he's gone mad.
"People think Howesy's soft," Matthew says quietly, "you know, cause he talks posh and dyes his hair and stuff. But he isn't. When I was in the top year juniors, one of the idiots from our year tried picking on him over something or other. Howesy smacked him right in the mouth, knocked one of his teeth out."
"Anthony says he hates games," I say.
"Well, he's pretty useless at football," Matthew agrees. "He can look after himself though. Fast hands, yeah? The kid he hit never even saw it."
So is that the secret of Anthony's self-confidence? It's certainly part of it. He can look after himself. I wish I could.
Friday afternoon finally arrives. That means games. It's another wet muddy one, so once again we have to have a shower. For the first time, I actually pay attention to what Mr Saunders is doing. Anthony was right. He's definitely perving on us. I feel stupid that I haven't noticed before.
I'm not sure if I'd want to go with him, but knowing that he's watching us is exciting. I start to get a hard-on. Of course, with all the other kids around, I couldn't do anything even if I wanted to. I just make sure he's seen it before strolling back to the changing room to get dressed.
As usual, we're released a few minutes before the bell goes, so I have time on my hands. I wander out of the sports pavilion and stroll towards the gate. Rebecca, Jane and Louise are standing there, chatting. I stroll across to join them. I don't say a great deal. To be honest, I'm not paying much attention. My brain's too full of what I'll be doing in a few minutes time.
It's nearly four o'clock. I say my goodbyes and make my way out of school. I cross the main road, taking the side street that leads to Grosvenor Terrace. Seconds later, I'm outside number eighteen. I check my watch. It's two minutes past four. School's been out for twelve minutes. I walk up the path and ring the bell. Anthony comes bounding downstairs to answer it. He's changed from his school uniform into black tee-shirt and black shorts. Man! He is sooo cute! He ushers me inside and up the stairs to his bedroom.
"We've just had games," I say as he closes the door. "You were right about Mr Saunders."
"Told you!" he responds, grinning.
Within a matter of seconds we're lying on the bed, naked as the day we were born, our dicks rubbing together. Anthony moves his lips towards mine. For the briefest of seconds I tense up.
'Relax,' I tell myself. 'This isn't going to hurt. Just go with it.'
Of course it doesn't hurt. It's fantastic, his tongue running over my teeth, the whole, wonderful smell of him flooding my nostrils. It makes me hornier than ever. I feel like I'd be up for just about anything. After around thirty amazing minutes, we finish with another sixty-nine, except that I stay with it the whole way, just as I said I would. And guess what? When it happens, I love it!
As I head for home I'm on cloud nine. After all the frustrations I've finally found another boy like me. It's wonderful, the best thing that's ever happened to me. It's weird though. I'd always imagined that I'd do it with a boy a bit older than me, but Anthony is so cute and sexy. And now that I'm getting to know him, I'm starting to realise what a great kid he is.
Best of all, he seems more than happy to take things at my own pace. After my encounter with Jimmy, I really appreciate that. I'm not sure that an older boy would be as patient. There's another thing too. An older boy would probably have a bigger dick. I'm not sure I'm ready for that. Anthony might not have been my obvious choice, but right now I couldn't imagine being with anyone better.
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