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larkin

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larkin last won the day on October 17 2018

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  • Gender
    Male
  • Location
    Massachusetts
  • Interests
    Art, art history, history, wank-media. Dennis Cooper's books, Bruce Benderson, "The Romanian".
    Deranged queens and drug addicted hairdressers.
    Sex first then we'll discuss romance.
    NYC, Venice California, Berlin and Cape Cod.
    Genre, coming of age, alienated youth. outsider.

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  1. Thank you but I might have to issue the rest of it to you privately..
  2. I may still be in the doghouse, not sure. The Enduring Memory of Mischief Randy called it the castle but it was just a very big, dilapidated old house. It rose up higher than the street and the enclosed yard was completely over-grown with brambles. I think boys are blessed with some sort of invisibility when they trespass, go through yards or invade empty houses. Like mice and rodents, boys leave damage but by the time it is discovered, they are long gone. "No one's lived here for years." He told me he some old lady used to own it. The paint on the old house had peeled away leaving it gloomy, grey and ominous. All the doors and windows on the ground floor had been boarded over. His voice was hushed. "Tommy, this way." I followed Randy around to a small enclosed back porch. Up a few the steps there were columns that were on either side of the door. I was under Randy's bad influence and I followed him, no questions asked. He climbed up one onto the small porch roof and once secure, he reached down and pulled me up. Beyond the porch roof was a window. It slid open and the two of us climbed in. It was very quiet. The only sounds were from us. We stood in a large, mostly empty room. Chunks of plaster had fallen from the high ceiling leaving debris and long settled dust. Randy stopped and proceed to pee in the middle of what used to be a dark green carpet. There were windows all around that let in lots of light but the room still looked stark and haunted like a place where something tragic had once happened. A few scattered pieces of chest furniture with drawers pulled out and upturned, were here and there. "There's nothing good here like treasure or gold. It's all been stolen before I got here." I kept close to Randy, almost touching him. I was doing my best to hide my fear. There were two doors leading to a dark hallway that was in turn, surrounded with doors to other rooms. At the one end there was a large staircase that descended into the murky darkness of the boarded up ground floor. At the top stair I immediately said "I'm not goin down there, you can go but not me!" "We'll go next time. We have to find a flashlight that works and remember to bring it with us." Opening one of the bedroom doors revealed a massive, black, drippy, skull and cross bones on the wall. It had been sprayed painted and it hung there like a demonic alter in a video game. The image was crude and defiant in this strange forsaken bedroom. On the floor, in the center of the room lay a pillow that had been slit open causing its stuffing to emerge like guts. Sensing that I was creeped-up, he said, "Oh I forgot to tell you, the old lady that owned this place died here." That sent a chill up my spine. Randy continued. "Oh, it gets worse. When they found her she was totally covered with flies and maggots. It was so bad that the police left her here and she turned into a mummy. She's still in one of the rooms. Grabbing Randy, I actually cried out with fear. My voice rose up an entire octave. I said, "Let's get out of here!" He was almost laughing and getting pleasure out of my distress. "Don't worry, they took the body away, I was just kidding you. I admitted it, "I don't care, I am really scared!" I had to exercise restraint to keep form peeing my pants. He opened one door that was just a dark, narrow, stair case to the next floor up. Randy had to drag me by the hand. He told me that this was where all the maids and butlers lived. They had their own private stairway. The rooms on this floor were smaller and not as creepy as the floor below. There was a white porcelain bathroom with a big tub that was filled part way with old sash weights. All the other rooms were small bedrooms and closets. In one room there was a collapsed bed frame and a small mattress on the floor. Randy asked, "We could do it here?" I said, " No way! Let's get out of here." Randy responded, "Why?" I told him I was afraid. "Oh, like afraid of what?" "Suppose we get caught or captured or maybe kidnapped or what if her ghost is real and demons are real and that there are vampires or we might be murdered." "Tommy, Shut the fuck-up!" The afternoon had turned late and we could see that the sun was going down and we were up on the third floor of an abandon house. "Randy, we better get out of here while it is still light." "Why don't we stay here all night?" "No way, you're crazy!" "Tommy, it'll be fun." It was getting dark. "I should have brought candles or a flashlight but a flashlight would never last all night." "I can't believe it, you're fuckin serious. Randy, let's get out of here!" "Oh yeah, like you want to go home to your mom and put up with her drunk asshole, boyfriend?" "No, I just don't want to stay here." There was a noise. Randy hushed me up. We heard it again and it was coming from downstairs. My entire back stiffened with fear. Every horror movie I had ever seen was creeping through my mind. The window was just a dim amber and the open door to the hall was black hole. Not a word was said but we knew we had to get out of there fast. We were trying not to make the slightest noise. Along the hall to the back stairway was bringing us closer to where we heard the sound. It opened to the main second floor hall that led to the room where we came in. Once in the room, we ran, slid open the window, jumped out onto the roof. Both of us jumped down to the ground and ran as fast as we could. When we got far enough away, hot, sticky and out of breath, we laughed about our exciting adventure.
  3. Thank you for the comment. It is appreciated.. The ruins are any derelict structure where guys go for furtive encounters. I've called it flash fiction as a contemporary description but it is more commonly a vignette or potentially a piece of something larger. You might read, Oregon Grunge. It is a related although disjointed piece of a younger Sammy. It is all experimentation.
  4. A Boy Like Me by Larkin There was no doubt about it, Anthony was a prick. Maybe that's what I liked about him, I don't know for sure. When I first met him I knew something was going to happen. He told me that he heard from other kids that I was gay. The word gay sounded so strange coming out of his mouth. I didn't say anything, I just shrugged my shoulders. He asked me, "What's it like, being gay and all?" He was trying to make friends with me and I had a right to be suspicious. Even so, someone else might have run off but I stayed there and listened to him. He said, "I might want to try it, you know what I mean, being gay and all. What do you think?" I didn't answer. I just kept listening to his story. He was big, Italian and a football type. I was skinny, small for my age and easily mistaken for a girl. He pointed at the "Big Deal Clothiers" and said, "That's my Dad's store." We went around to the side of the building and then I followed him up an outside stairway. It led to an unrented apartment on the second floor. It had just been freshly painted. As we walked around, our voices and footsteps echoed in the clean and empty rooms. I felt Anthony behind me. When I turned around, he had his cock sticking straight up out of his pants. He stroked it up and down and displayed it for me. He moved closer and then I felt his hand on my shoulder. He said, "Come on, I won't tell anyone." He moved closer and pushed me down.......So I did it. I was untroubled by the experience because to be honest, it had not been my first. Once I finally gave in and let him force me to do it, he wouldn't let me alone. He'd use all these stupid excuses to get me alone somewhere. I may be a wimp but I'm not stupid. If it was going to happen, I didn't want to make it too easy for him. I wanted him to talk me into it so if anything happened, I could blame him. I'd make up all kinds of excuses like, "I have to go home." He'd say, "Don't give me that, you don't have to go nowhere." Then I'd say, "I have to go meet someone." And he'd say, "Yeah, like who?" I couldn't think up a name of who I was supposed to meet. I could have just run away, but I didn't. I'd just hang around and hang around driving him crazy. He'd whisper in my ear. "Come on, you like to suck my dick. Don't you remember how much fun it was last time?" I'd say, "Oh, I'm not really in the mood right now." "What do you mean you're not in the mood?" I said, "Oh, I don't know, maybe later." I just gave him a ray of hope to keep him interested because I really did like the attention. "Later? What's wrong with now?" It is a completely different dynamic if I was the one begging to suck his cock. Imagine if I was saying, "Oh please, please let me suck your big cock." Oh, he'd let me do it for sure and he'd act all cocky like an asshole which he is anyway and I'd come off looking like a disgusting little piglet and after I did it and he'd make like he gave me a special gift and now I owe him and then he'd throw me away like I was trash. "Fuck you, Tony!" Instead I'd say, "Why do you want to make me do that? You're cock is all big and horrible." Even thought he could kick my ass, I was not afraid of him at all. The only one working in the "Big Deal Clothiers" was old Mrs. Haas. She looked at Anthony and then at me,... and then back at Anthony. She had a puzzled look on her face as if to say, "What's this all about?" Since Anthony was the owner's son, she kept silent. Anthony helped me pick out a bunch of new clothes. Afterwards, we went back upstairs to the empty apartment. As I was saying, Anthony is a prick and he's obnoxious too. I didn't really like him. I know that he didn't really like me or anything; he just wanted to get his cock sucked. I dropped the bags of clothes he got me in the corner of the room. I got all ready so he could make me suck his cock. Actually, I was really excited. It was fun and I really liked doing it. The main reason is that Anthony feels like I owe it to him for the clothes and all, so he feels justified in using me. That makes it fun plus, when he cums, we're even again. He's big, masculine and aggressive. I'm small, defenseless and feminine...I mean, when you think about it, we're perfect for each other. Well, perfect if all we're talking about is sex. I'm not really ready for a relationship anyway and if I was, I sure wouldn't want to be owned by Anthony Lanciano. Before you get all critical of me and all, why shouldn't I figure out how things work and what I like before I make a commitment? I mean, if I was going to really fall in love, I would want a boy with the bluest eyes and beautiful blond hair. A boy that people in the street stop to look at because he is so unbelievably cute. He would be skinny and delicate and have the smoothest skin. He would be a boy who is intelligent, sensitive and emotional. You know what I mean, someone just like me.
  5. Perhaps like Huxley's "Brave New World" It must told from an outsider's point of view.
  6. Your love story is full of tempestuous and emotional, twists and turns. As one writer to another, I would suggest that the story might less cumbersome if written as a first person narrative from Terry's point of view. He is the common voice who is more suited to give us the backstory about Lothario, Lance and the relationships through personal reflection. Please feel free to tell me to go fuck-off if you disagree but my comment is meant to be constructive and not to be critical. I wouldn't bother if I didn't think that you work has potential. You have a writer's voice.
  7. I didn't start the thread as a challenge but as one writer to another.. Most of the people on CR are still reading and writing. This is not the current norm in the culture at large. I went into a McDonald's dining area the other day and every individual was on one sort of device or another. You might see the same thing on the subway or at the airport. For someone like me who loves video games, I am certainly not passing judgment. I am making an observation. My point is that a lot of people are immersed in devices and are communicating through artificial interfaces. Reading is very low on their list and it is difficult to describe these new cultural manifestations using old media (writing). The advent of video moves it from abbreviated text and voice into the visual. The phenomenon of up-loaded body language. This emulates real life and the participant can easily forget what world he is in.. My question might be, how would you portray a world like this, characters, story and dialogue, in written story form and still be authentic? In regards to your comments about feedback and support, perhaps every writer should make an effort to contribute encouragement and a constructive critique as an obligation for having their own work receiving its due?
  8. Thank you Shayn, To say deluded is the perspective of an observer. Perhaps you have not fallen in love yet? It is something very different than affection and mutual admiration. Who really is the villain? Is it Brent for allowing himself to suspend his ethics? Yolo for being a murderer to stay alive? or the villagers who want to destroy anything unlike themselves? This a fantasy story and Yolo is a concoction but the emotions are drawn from real life.
  9. Ode to Wesley and Provincetown by Larkin The arguing and fighting seemed to go on and on until he went to his bedroom and slammed the door. He locked it and hastily grabbed a few things. Crawling out his window, he headed for the highway. To be specific, it was the onramp for the Pennsylvania Turnpike. In an instant, that part of his life was over. The boy was picked up almost immediately. Feeling emancipated, he looked towards a new world. At the moment it would be a summer resort on Cape Cod. At the beginning of each season they arrived from here and there. Boys fleeing home, boys rejected or ejected and for the first time in their lives finding themselves free and out in the world. Tee-shirts and jeans, long or cut-off and maybe a canvas bag of basic items. An extra shirt, small amount of money if any, a zipped pouch with drugs of one sort of another and perhaps a pack of cigarettes. Life for some of them was promising to become a superb adventure and their optimism and readiness infected anyone in their company. Wesley was one of these boys. Small and slim in stature, his blond, curly hair had not been fussed over. He let it fall where it may. Perhaps one reason was that he was blind as a bat without his glasses. The two prescription lens were set into a pair of frames they were not designed for. To overcome this problem He applied multiple layers of glue. Periodically one lens or another would suddenly pop out and Wesley would blindly re-apply more glue. It gave him the look of being sort of a patchwork boy. When he put the glasses aside so that the glue could dry, it was then that you could see an incredibly alluring face promising nothing but mischief, fun and trouble. He sat on one of the park benches that were not already occupied by others and spread out to enjoy the sun and watch the passer-bys, He believed in giving the appearance of being completely,... good for nothing. This had always worked well in drawing to him, others like himself. A guy, tanned and more substantial in frame, sat down next to him. They side glanced each other but avoided direct contact. That went on barely a minute. It was the Italian who spoke first. "You live here?" Wesley gave him a quizzical look and then shook his head no. It was immediately followed with a broad smile and then one of Wesley's silly, stupid laughs. The Italian, maybe in his late twenties, laughed too. With nothing to prove, Wesley was entirely friendly and physically familiar. They had a few more lines of small talk until one said, "You wanna go smoke a joint?" Do you want to go smoke a joint, was usually code for something much more explicit. Both boys rose up and crossing the street, slipped between two buildings. They climbed a narrow stairway into a fire exit alcove. The Italian was proud. He arched his back and opened his pants. Wesley repressed what sounded like a giggle, looked up and smiled. When the Italian pulled out a large uncircumcised cock. Wesley slid down the foreskin to give it a quick look and then took it into his mouth. Looking down at the patchwork boy, the Italian said, "Don't worry, no one ever comes up here." This was not entirely true, but short of a fire, the worst that could happen is that you might run into someone else wanting to do the same thing. Wesley held on to keep his balance and the Italian roughly carried out the motions of intercourse into the boy's mouth. He pushed harder trapping Wesley awkwardly into the corner. It was exactly the way he liked it. He liked being taken over, used for someone else's selfish pleasure. It was good enough that Wesley was sure that he would swoon over it later. To say it lasted more than 10 minutes would be pushing it. When they came out of the alley, they both went separate ways behaving as if nothing had happened. Walking along and appearing to be lost in his thoughts, he swallowed the last of the Italian's cum. They never did smoke a joint. Other than his basic needs, money didn't mean much to Wesley. He didn't require money to have sex with someone but if afterwards, they offered it out of gratitude or perceived obligation, that was just fine with him. The encounter with the Italian was so perfect that neither one gave the idea of money a thought. Wesley's life was governed by events like this and he was already preparing for the next. This is, after all, why he left home. There was a slightly feminine guy that had been watching Wesley from across the street. The tall boy had been doing it for sometime before Wesley noticed. It was someone who looked much like himself only taller. He was wearing a summery but trendy outfit and dark sunglasses. The boy in his early twenties was slender like a beanpole and had a slightly swishy gate. Looking intently at Wesley he said, "Where'd you get those glasses?" Wesley shrugged his shoulders and smiled. "You really should consider contacts." Wesley gave a slight embarrassed laugh. "Ahm Simon, what's your name?" He kept looking one way and then the other. "Oh come on, let's go, too many people I know around here and I have to do some things." They walked along, casually but conspicuously together. It was mostly Simon's doing. "I wanted to get away from the park. I didn't want anyone to think I was pickin you up or anything." He pulled down his glasses so Wesley could see his eyes and smiled. Wesley said, "Were you pickin me up?" Simon kept right on walking and looking forward as if he didn't care one way or another. "Of course I was but if you're not interested, you can go back and sit on the benches until some old faggot troll comes along." They both laughed. Because he was in jeans and a tee-shirt and young, Wesley wasn't apparently homosexual but Simon certainly was and Simon did care who knew it. Simon would say, "The best way to get dick is to make it obvious to all that you are perfectly willing to suck it. It works for me.." In saying this he left Wesley with no doubt but then, he didn't know that Wesley had just emerged from an alley with someone he didn't even know. Simon's cottage consisted one small room kept tidy and spare. There was a sink and a small counter that served as a minimal kitchen and a bed covered with throw pillows to serve as a casual couch. Without hesitation the two began to make-out. Wesley felt his cock being tugged at through his pants. It erected without resistance and Simon opened them exposing Wesley's cock and balls. "God damn I guessed wrong, I thought you'd have a small skinny dick cause of your age and all, it's almost as big as mine." With that he put Wesley's dick back in his mouth. It was reciprocated by naturally falling into an attitude of 69. It was a personal and intimate investigation of each other's privates. Simon Changed his position. "You wouldn't want to fuck me would you? I hate to think of all that work. if you do it right, I can cum spontaneously!" Being without any reservations and using only spit, Wesley pushed and penetrated the tall girlish blond boy. Their congress was trouble free and pleasurable. Wesley's basic personality was characterized by a cheerful and silly cadence. He liked to give the impression that he hadn't a serious bone in his body and was sort of a pliable feather brain. What it concealed was a clever, crafty and intelligent boy when it came to understanding those around him and when it came to sex, he knew how to make it work. During the day, marijuana was the perfect modifier but at night, it was a combination of pizza and alcohol and perhaps pills if they were around. Alcohol made him languid, seductive and receptive to even the dregs. As it got later and the bars and clubs closed, dark men wandered the streets looking for "it". Wesley was standing under a street light when a portly man stopped to ask directions. It was a ruse just to engage him. Wesley was still up for most anything but he was starting to be concerned about finding a place to stay for the rest of the night. He listened to the man's mediocre chatter and soon doubted its potential. The man said, "No, I can't, I'm staying at the Harbor Light and I am not allowed guests..but we could....." Wesley had a good idea of what the man was like. He guessed that he was apologetic, conventional and only interested in sucking cock. Probably a nice man, but a one way street that really would require remuneration. Right or wrong, that was his impression. Getting his own cock sucked wasn't out of the question but ideally it would have to be from a kid who was more like himself. Something that would play itself out as an erotic tug of war with mutual objectives and fearless perversity. He really liked doing that, but not with a portly man from the Connecticut suburbs wearing white loafers. The man suggested a trip into the shadows or down on the beach. Wesley gave no lead because he had lost interest. The man moved on. His indecision was rewarded because a few minutes later he was passed by a man trudging home from the bar. He was drunk and appeared to be pissed off. They had exchanged quick glances and Wesley immediately knew he was on. He was so confident that he took a chance and ran to accompany the weaving man home. He especially liked men. He would look up at them and charm them as a son would to an adored father. Wesley had the gift for taming straight guys and some even found him irresistible. There was always danger in sexually approaching a straight man but Wesley's instincts were good and his feminine side made him very desirable to man who had plenty to drink. Not a single word had been shared between them and together the two settled on a bed in a dark and unfamiliar room, The man stripped revealing animal nakedness. His erection sprung up hard and stiff. Wesley was trying to undress but he couldn't take his eyes off of the man's cock. He reached out to tug at it. Still half in and half out of his clothes, the dark man moved forward, physically taking Wesley over and pulling his remaining clothes out of the way. He parted Wesley's exposed butt with both hands and then probed his asshole with his fingers. Wesley's pose was inclined in a way that told the man that he had been fucked before. It really didn't matter because the man was going to do it anyway. It was rough and hard and it left Wesley in a state of near delirium. After the man cleaned up the overflow, he threw Wesley out. He didn't mind, the experience left him vibrating from the inside. He considered the experience well worth it. It was after 3 am and Simon's little house was dark. Wesley approached it and carefully opened the door trying not to make a sound. Still unfamiliar with the surroundings he stood there for a moment not knowing what to do. He had only met Simon just that afternoon. There was a rustling in Simon's bed and the room was suddenly lit up with a string of Christmas lights. Simon was not alone. There was a mass of black curly hair on the inside of the bed, dead asleep. Simon, raised the blanket inviting him into bed with them. Wesley stripped off his clothes and climbed in bed and went to sleep. Simon cuddled up next to him, took a hold of Wesley's cock and said softly, "I'm glad you came back." In the morning, In a room filled with marijuana smoke, Three piss-hard, post adolescents formed a lusty knot that went on until almost noon. The third member was Mario. Dark Latin who lived in New York's East Village. Simon loaned Wesley money for a pack of cigarettes. "You should go to the nude beach today. It's a great way to spend the day and if you don't bring you glasses you can't tell if they're ugly or not but if you're suckin dick, who cares!" They both laughed. "I'd go with you but Mario goes back tomorrow and I want to spend some time with him." Wesley had found home with Simon in the rented cottage. He would remember that summer for the rest of his short life. When the winds got cold and the rains came, The boy was out on the highway heading to New York City..
  10. larkin

    The Misfit

    The Misfit by Larkin 2013 Leonardo: He was tall and very skinny. He wore peculiar glasses that made him look like a bookworm. His clothes were often mismatched and sometimes they were strange and uncommon as if they were from somewhere else in history. There were other things that made him different, but then what would I know being a jeans and tee shirt boy. He wore a ring with a big glittery stone. He took it off and let me look through it and see a shattered world. He said, "That's what the world is really like. It shows you how broken everything is." I gave him a puzzled look. I didn't know what he meant, but he said it as if he knew things no one else did. He wore raw hide bracelets strung with different colored beads. He told me that they were magic. Around his neck he wore a very ornate cross but claimed to be an atheist.. He said, "I don't believe God or governments but I do believe in magic. I had never met anyone like him before. I stopped my bike to take a closer look. His blond hair was short and combed. It was the only normal thing about him and because of that, it didn't fit his overall image. It only made him look stranger. "My name's Leonardo, you may shake my hand." He extended his hand like he was some kind of royalty. We shook and became friends. I told him my name Jamie. I looked up at him and saw that his face had broken out and that he had already started shaving. I remember noticing that he had an Adam's apple that seemed to go up and down when he laughed or swallowed. He looked all grown-up to me but he didn't act like any of the adults I knew. I asked him how old he was. He said he was sixteen. Leonardo also had many weird gestures that where dramatic, expressive or just plain crazy. There were so many and they changed so often that I couldn't keep track of them all. When I closed my eyes and listened to him talk, he sounded almost like a beautiful girl. I rolled along on my bike next to him while he walked and talked. He went on and on about things I never had heard of before. I didn't understand but I liked listening to him. It was sort of like a new and unfamiliar music. Being on a street lined with development houses was like being under a magnifying glass. I think we both had the sense that we were being watched by people behind windows and fenced in yards. Gradually we made our way towards a less populated area. We walked together along a road that connected one small town with another. Vines and reeds had become overgrown on the side of the road and I showed him a secret path that led to a hole in the fence. I dumped my bike in the underbrush and we walked out into the open field together. Once free of civilization I relaxed with him and he with me. He said, "What's your full name?" I said, "Jimmy, actually James Wooly." Leonardo said, "That's not nearly enough of a name for you. I've changed my name lots of times." I said, "I like it." He continued. "You need something more aristocratic. You need a name like mine." He cleared his throat and puffed himself up. "My name is Leonardo Alexander William Florien Victor Baxter." Before I could say anything he said, "The third!" It was comical but I accepted it as truth. He seemed to like that I listened to him with interest and that I didn't see the need to challenge him. "If we get to be really good friends I'll invent a name for you. I think you look sort like a, Maximilian. You might be in the direct line for the throne of some lost kingdom. You never can tell." I knew it wasn't true but I liked that he imagined that about me. We waded into a patch of tall grass and then smoothed out a space where we could sit secluded from the rest of the world. Leonardo sat length ways and looked at me as if he was calculating or something. "I like your hair. You should grow it longer and use plenty of cream rinse. I would grow mine very long but my dad makes me get it cut once a month like clockwork." I had no idea what cream rinse was and I never really gave my hair a thought. I only got it cut when it became a nuisance. He reached out and ran his fingers through a hanging down lock of my hair. "Black hair with blue eyes is very exotic. Jamie, you are very cute, did you know that?" I shrugged my shoulders. Leonardo could clearly see that I was enjoying the attention even if I did look slightly embarrassed. Maybe I should have been afraid of a stranger paying me this kind of unusual attention but I wasn't. Leonardo looked harmless. He reminded me of a kid in school who always used to get beaten up. I could see where Leonardo's high horse about aristocracy invited pissed off boys to drag him down just for the fun of it. When he moved closer, I wasn't afraid and if there was a reason to be afraid, I didn't care. "You have any brothers or sisters?" I told him that I just live with my Mom. Leonardo said, "My parents split up and my sister is with my Mother and I live with my Dad." He continued. "My Dad hates me but that's okay because I hate him too. He says I'm hopeless. I don't know why but I still try to please him." I studied his face and suddenly I could see passed his glasses. He looked fragile and defenseless. He smiled at me and said, "My dad said that I am totally useless. He says I should have been killed at birth. I think he is probably right." Leonardo was going on about how miserable he was living with his father. He said, "I wish I could live somewhere else. I wish I could find a place where people liked me and everyone is happy. Let's change the subject, talking about my Father is making me depressed." I sat up and offered encouragement. "I haven't known you very long and I like you." Saying that seemed to put him off balance. He tried to say something but was blocked by a stutter that seemed to go on and on. I had heard about things like that but I didn't understand what caused them. When he finally got passed it he said, "That's because you're a nice person and not an asshole." We were stretched out together in the tall grass, unobserved, carefree and pleased with our new friendship. There were several long pauses where there was barely word or maybe a laugh. Finally Leonardo looked over to me and said, "You ever jerk-off?" He said it as if it was something that had been troubling him. I looked up at large clouds that had formed in the sky. Still looking up I said, "Yeah." He looked relieved. I said, "I do when I'm in the mood." Leonardo laughed and said, "I do it all the time. I can't help it." Without a word of agreement we did what all boys do. We opened our pants and started a stroke. We also did what all boys do. We looked at each other's cocks. My self image was pretty good and since I had just started playing with myself I was proud of my dick. It was almost five inches when I was hard. I liked the idea of showing it off. I pulled it out so Leonardo could see. He looked at it with great interest. Then he pushed his pants and shirt out of the way revealing a large boner and big balls. I think my mouth must have dropped open at the sight of it. He let me see it and then hid it as if he was ashamed. I had no idea that cocks got that big. "God damn Leo, did you ever measure it?" He looked sheepish and said, "Yeah, I think it is a bit over 8 inches." We lay together and worked on ourselves. I looked down at our two sets of feet twisting and turning as we got closer. Leonardo started breathing hard until his whole body tightened up. When he came, he squirted cum all over his chest and as high up as his chin. He even had to wipe it off of his neck. I was totally amazed. I never came much more than a teaspoon full. Leonardo cleaned himself up. I knew that boys do this with other boys for reference and comparison so I was untroubled by the experience. However, it was my turn to finish up. I had to show off my dose of cum to complete the bond of friendship between us. I started stroking again. Leonardo moved closer and slipped his arm around me so that I could rest my head on him while I did it. Without stopping I turned so that I could see his face. He looked calm and gentle and it felt good being close to someone. I was getting close so I began to do it faster. He pulled closer to me so that the length of his warm body was next to mine. He began to whisper words into my ear. I couldn't understand what he was saying but it sent chills through me and it was making me cum. The experience was so intense that I cried out. I had never done anything like that before. I lay next to him exhausted and out of breath. I felt him cuddling me as if I was something rare and precious. Sometime went by before I recovered enough to sit up and look around. Leonardo was strangely quiet and subdued. Silently we put ourselves back together. He wouldn't look at me directly and behaved as if he was guilty of something terrible. It took walking through the tall grass and exploring before it wore off and he was back to being his silly self again. It was the heat of the day and thirst that drove us back to civilization. We both walked into the QuikiMart. Before we could get very far into the store, Mr. Daggett, the manager came out from behind the counter. He pointed a finger directly at Leonardo. "You! Get out of here before I call the police. If you come in here one more time I will kick the shit out of you!" Leonardo had a horrified look on his face. He backed away and turned and ran out of the store. Mr. Daggett looked down at me and said, "I not talking about you Jamie, I'm talkin about him comin in here and stealin stuff." He might as well have been talking about me because I was just as scared as Leonardo looked. I got two cans of coke and pulled out my money. I went to pay and Mr. Daggett leaned forward and began to talk to me in confidence. "Jamie, what do you want to be hanging around with that trash for? I know you are a good kid but he's not for you. He lies and steals and you don't want to be associated with that do you? That kind of stuff rubs off and he's headed for serious trouble." He lowered his voice and continued. "Jamie, he's never been seen with any girls. You know what I'm talkin about when I say something like that? So if you don't want something bad to happen to you will tell him to stay the fuck away from you." I thought he was finished when he added, "Listen to me Jamie, if he touches or tries anything funny, you come and tell me and you can bet your ass I'll do something about it." When I came out of the store, Leonardo was gone. Freak: A few weeks went by before I saw Leonardo again. It's not like I wasn't on the lookout for him, I was but we never crossed paths. The time had come for me to go down to the Freedom and Liberty Mall and shop for a new game. Since it took an hour to get there by bus, I always spent a few hours hanging around. There was a pitiful excuse for an arcade that was good for about a half an hour distraction so after I bought my game I stopped by. I always liked to watch whoever was on Dance Revolution. Sometimes there would be a cute girl or a pair of girls or more often two boys competing to see who was best. No one was there but off in the corner was someone I recognized. Although I don't know how I recognized him because he looked completely different. His hair was yellow with black and brown leopard spots and both his shirt and pants were red. Today he was wearing one earring with a black sharks tooth hanging from it. When I came up to him I must have looked confused because all I could say was "What happened to your eye brows?" He laughed. Leave it to Leonardo to try to look daring or ultra cool and end up looking silly. To make matters worse, he was standing in front of a brightly lit machine and was holding a large green mallet that looked like it came out of a cartoon. A bucked toothed chip monk popped out of a hole behind him and he quickly turned and swung at it. He missed. Then another one popped out of another hole and he tried to hit that one and missed. He had a slight fit and then clawed at his own face in exasperation. "Oh Fuck!" On top of all that, he had a four foot long skateboard with him. No one who is serious about skateboards has one that long. Leonardo looked proud. He said it was for cross-country. I already had my game and I told him I had to get home. Before I did, he grabbed me and pulled on me. He said, "You hate me, don't you?" I laughed and said, "No Leo, I don't hate you, you just look so weird without eyebrows. I was looking for you and this is the first time I ran into you." He put his glasses back on and didn't look quite so weird. "I figured once you got to know me you wouldn't like me anymore but I have to tell you, I'm already prepared for that, so don't think you can just hurt me because I'm used to it." I said, "Leo, relax, I like you and you haven't given me any reason to hate you so calm down, okay?" He switched his glasses for a pair of wrap-around sunglasses. He slanted his gate and said, "Cool." I couldn't help but laugh but I had no bad feeling towards him. Crazy: It was another week before I saw him again. This time he snuck up behind me and tapped me on my shoulder. When I turned and looked at him I didn't know who he was. I soon realized that it was Leonardo. His hair was black and his eyebrows had almost grown back in. What was lacking he had enhanced with a marker giving each eye brow a neat plaid pattern which was a much better look. It was a subdued Leonardo, a Leonardo that looked like he had found even more trouble. "Jamie, I'm really sorry, I get manic. Please don't hate me." I asked, "What's Manic?" He said, "It's when I sort of go crazy. Usually it's when I stop taking my meds." He smiled at me and said, "I'm fine now." He reassured me, "Really I am." Secretly I didn't believe him and I decided that the smart thing would be to lose him in a hurry. He got up close to me and whispered in my ear. "Let's go back to that place and jerk-off." The suggestion was a surprise because I hadn't been thinking about anything like that. I said, "I don't know, I don't think I'm really in the mood." Leo became sly and mischievous. He whispered again in my ear so that I felt his warm breath. "I'll get you in the mood. I'm very good at that." I went along reluctantly. I had other things to do so I guess I was doing it just to please Leonardo. We went through the hole in the fence and out into the field. When we found our spot and settled in. He cuddled up next to me and said, "Jamie, let me do it for you. Just lay there and let me make you cum. I want to do it and I promise you don't have to do it to me." It seemed strange that he released me from any obligation but I didn't question it. I watched while he fiddled with my pants and then felt me through my underwear. He whispered in my ear. "You don't have to do anything. All you have to do is cool-out and let me make you cum." He pulled my pants further down and then my underwear. We both looked at my boner sticking up, twitching. He pet my balls and my penis. I noticed that his hand seemed to be trembling. He made it easier for me to cuddle closer to him. This was much better than a quick jerk in my own bed. He whispered in my ear. "Jamie, I dreamed about you and in my dream we were doing this. In the dream we were both happy." Hearing him made my boner so hard. He said, "Tell me when I'm doing it right to make you cum." He was stroking me and I moved my body up and down under his hand. I was breathing through my mouth and I looked into his face. I said, "Like that. Keep doing it like that." He knew exactly what I meant and he brought me closer. He whispered into my ear, "Cum. I want you to." It started with a tremor that went through my whole body and I started squirting. Leonardo held me so that I could let go of everything.....and I did. I came out of it in a much better mood. I felt refreshed and energetic. We gathered ourselves and started out. Out on the road I said, "What about you Leo? You didn't get to cum." He said, "Feeling you cum was so much better." I didn't understand but he seemed to be happy. We headed our separate ways. Isolation: My mother opened the door. A tall boy wearing glasses, tight pale blue pants and a black shirt, stood in front of her. "Is Jamie here?" Without looking away from him she called, "Jamie! Someone's here to see you!" Leonardo extended his hand but my Mother didn't respond. She looked suspiciously at him. The strange boy was taller than she was. When I showed up at the door there was a standoff. She wouldn't let him in and Leo didn't try. I said, "Leo, come in." My Mother grudgingly let him pass. She was sarcastic and under her voice she said, "He's a little old for you to be associating with, don't you think Jamie?" I said, "He's alright." She relented and we headed for my room. Leo looked around my cluttered room and said, "God, you have so much stuff and it's all out where you can see it." He turned to me and said, "My Dad is very militaristic. Everything has to be put away and be perfectly neat. The only place to sit was together on my bed. Leo picked up my photo book and flipped through it. The door to my room slowly opened and I looked up to see my Mother standing there. She was motionless but her eyes went from me to Leonardo and back to me. Her expression was both serious and doubtful. She crossed her arms and said, "Jamie, I have to go to work and I want you to know that I don't want any trouble or unexpected surprises when I get back." She looked at Leonardo and said pointedly, "How old are you?" Leonardo answered almost apologetically, "Sixteen." She slowly turned to go and said, "Okay, no trouble, understand?" We heard the front door close and then the car start up. I was used to my Mother's ways and we actually got along but it was plain to see that she regarded Leonardo with caution. It wasn't until we heard the car drive off that Leo seemed to relax. He looked at me and said, "Adults are the enemy. They always look at me like they want to destroy me. It's like I can hear them saying, You're a failure or you are a fuck-up. My Dad wants to put me in the army so's I will learn to be a man. Even your Mom looked like she was going to call the cops on me and I didn't even do anything." I tried to reassure him. "No, that's just her way of trying to look out for me, she's okay, really." Leo made an uncharacteristic frown. "I hate adults!" I said, "But you're almost an adult yourself. I mean in less than two years you'll be eighteen and I got four more whole years to go. I just want to be old enough to drive." I thought for a moment and then said, "You can't hate adults when you're almost going to be one." He said, "I'll have no problem. I'm used to hating myself." He continued, "I won't grow-up, I don't want to! I hate everything serious, I hate responsibility and I don't want to go to work, get married and have kids and buy a house and all that shit! I just want to be who I am without people trying to force me to be what they want me to be." His tension gave way to defeated resignation. He held his face in his hands and mumbled, "I can't, I can't, I can't." I was fourteen and I didn't seem to have a problem striving for maturity. I was even looking forward to it. Leonardo wiped his eyes. He had been crying. I put my arm around him and tried to comfort him. He seemed to cheer up a bit and was wanting to leave his frustrations behind. He dug into his pocket and pulled out something enclosed in his hand. "Here, I got this for you." It was a small pewter dolphin mounted on a crystal. Its body was arched as if it was jumping above the waves. I placed it on a shelf where I kept my collection of little things. "Look, Leo, I'm putting it right next to Pika the Pokemon. Thanks him, "You didn't need to do that." He was returning to normal, at least as normal as he was able. "I got it for you because I really believe we are friends. I mean I hope we are friends." He looked at me wanting a confirmation. I said, "Yeah, You're weird, but I do like you." A long moment of silence set the mood in motion. I was waiting for Leo to start it. For all I know he planned it out in advance but I didn't care. He put his hand on my leg and I spread out in willing acceptance. He was looking at me and I reached out and carefully pulled off his stupid glasses. I looked into his face. He looked fragile and vulnerable and in a funny way, he even looked younger than me. He moved his hand over my crotch and gently squeezed. I would probably jerk off before the end of the day anyway so why not share it with him. I didn't care and it made him feel good so what's the big fuckin deal? It didn't matter if I liked girls or maybe there was a possibility that I might be gay, here was someone who liked me and devoted himself to me. Besides, I didn't have to return the favor if I didn't want to. I unbuckled my belt and opened my pants for him. Leo raised himself and looked out the window to make sure that the car was gone. I said, "Don't worry, she won't be back until evening." He whispered into my ear. "Jamie, I'll do anything for you. I know about all the bad things people say about stuff like this, but I believe we didn't do anything wrong. Everything we did was sort of friendly, natural and I wouldn't have done it if I didn't want to. I can't speak for Leonardo but he was always kind to me and even though he might have tricked me into having sex, he never made me do anything I didn't want to. He said to me, "Have you ever been in love?" It was a strange question and I had no idea how to answer it. I pushed out my lower lip and shrugged my shoulders. Leonardo looked off in the distance as if he was trying to see something far away. "I have. If you don't you're lucky because it can fuck you up so bad." He looked sort of sad but suddenly began joking and laughing again. It was puzzling but I didn't have nearly enough experience to understand. I think it was the first time in my life where I saw someone that exposed and defenseless. I loved Leonardo from that moment on.
  11. larkin

    Help an Angel.

    Full of empathy and compassion.. Very nice. This is what I call a seed for a longer story, told by the narrator from an observational point of view. Use almost no dialogue. Make us fall in love with the subject.
  12. Not as rough around the edges as some of my stuff, but sweet and beautiful.. keep doing it.
  13. In the first part, there is a line where Brent asks Yolo if he is drinking his blood and Yolo smiles and nods, yes. Then he asks, "If you keep drinking it will I die?" Still smiling, Yolo says yes. Brent love is so intense that he will accept it just as long as he can continue the relationship. It is the result of a charm spell that is so intoxicating that Brent is even willing to give his life. This level of passion and sexual dependency happens in real life all the time, especially when one loves the other more. than the love he is getting in return. It just makes him more desperate.
  14. I think cybersex was very popular for a time but diminished after pic exchange and today, skype. It changed from fantasy to people seeking real contact.. Seeking to connect using text only could be dodgy. There is a hardcore RP community but I could never get used to the protocols. Although it can draw from cyber and tech style communications, creative writing, fantasy or realistic, is something separate. It is story telling.
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