“Ride on! Rough-shod if need be, smooth-shod if that will do, but ride on! Ride on over all obstacles and win the race! ”
(John Dryden)Charles Dickens – David Copperfield, 28)
Scotty stepped forward as I led Jamie to the side, bringing him close to my chest, hugging him, kissing him lightly on the forehead as he sobbed his heart out!
“Mr. Delaney,” he began, “Did I understand you correctly when you said you didn’t want any ‘homos’ running track and representing our school?”
“Right!” Delaney responded, almost strutting he seemed so proud and sure of himself! “Can’t stand faggots and those two definitely are!”
“Well,” Scotty said with a shrug, “I guess you don’t want us then,” reaching out to Derrick, grabbing his hand, “let’s leave Honey.”
I don’t think either of them are gay, but what they were doing was for our sake and definitely a challenge to Delaney and his perverted view of the world! Derrick grinned, flipped Delaney the bird, and the two of them walked toward us. The rest of the squad, there were only fifteen of us left of the original twenty that went out, gathered listening to the exchange and Delaney’s rant about gays, began following Scotty and Derrick!
Chris just couldn’t resist the moment as he walked by, jabbed Delaney in the belly with his finger, said with a smile, “You just let your ass overload your mouth you homophobic prick!”
That remark seemed to enrage Delaney, turning him into a mad man, and he did something we never expected from an adult and a student teacher besides, and were completely unprepared for! He quickly hit Chris’s face with a couple of really hard jabs of his fists, started screaming obscenities at him, grabbed Chris’ shirt and an arm and literally threw him across a players bench alongside of the track and onto the ground behind it! Chris’s face was bleeding and he was moaning and groaning, doubled up on the ground!
Delaney started to go after him to deliver more blows to his body, but was stopped when Scotty screeched, “You dirty son-of-a-bitch!” and piled on Delaney but was promptly shrugged off and punched a couple of times before Derrick shouted, “Get him boys!” and led the attack by the team on their student teacher!
Delaney was a pretty strong man for a former track runner, but he evidently worked out with weights since he started swinging and punching, knocking boys down, who bounded back and attacked again! They outnumbered him and soon had him swinging indiscriminately! I thought it wouldn’t be long until they dropped him, I hoped!
Coach Schroeder was running toward us from across the field, toward the melee, blowing his whistle hoping to stop the battle; from the parking lot near the track I saw two uniformed campus police officers running toward the scrambled pile of punching, howling, cursing, kicking boys!
Suddenly, a hand appeared on my shoulder and Chief Kraft asked, “Is Jamie okay?”
I nodded he was, wondering where the hell he came from, and Chief Kraft waded into the middle of the brawl! I could hear sirens in the distance and also could see several more campus police leaving their cars and racing toward us!
The boys’ anger and penchant for revenge couldn’t be soothed or diminished by the presence of a few police officers, Coach Schroeder, or Chief Kraft! As soon as one bloody kid was pulled away from Delaney, another bloody boy would leap in, engaging the miscreant, assisting his fellow track team mate in the assault, screaming in anger, punching, kicking, eager for blood, to be bloodied, seeking vengeance, and justice! It soon became a matter for the officers, rather than protect the boys from Delaney’s menacing and punishing blows, to protect Delaney from the angry mob! Those track boys were out for payback, and fuck anybody who tried to stop them!
Jamie had ceased his crying, turned to watch the battle, yet held on to me tight. There was, I thought, just the slightest of smiles on his face. Then, he giggled!
“What’s so funny?” I asked as the battle was beginning to wind down.
“I pushed the button,” he said softly, “and my daddy came!”
One of the officers was leaning over Chris and I could hear more sirens coming into the parking lot. An EMT leaped from the first one, opened the gate, and two ambulances drove toward the fight.
Shit, I’d forgotten all about Jamie’s panic or GPS locator button he wore either hooked to his running shorts or tucked away in his pants pocket. I’d gotten so accustomed to it, it simply became part of him each day! Hell, I never thought in a million years he’d ever use it, but he did today; no wonder help came so fast!
“So he did,” I acknowledged, whispering in his ear before giving him a kiss on the forehead, “so he did!”
Chief Kraft was shouting at Delaney, still thrashing and swinging, not only at the occasional boy who broke loose from the officer trying to corral him, but the police as well. The Chief and two officers were trying to subdue Delaney, but he was having none of it. Finally, Chief Kraft shouted,
“Dammit, stop fighting us or we’ll mace you!”
Derrick, bloodied nose, cut face, torn shirt, shorts ripped off during the fight and leaving him clad in his jock strap and track shoes, pulled away from the campus police office, a lady I might add, raced toward Delaney and with a well-placed kick with his track shoes, landed a solid blow to Delaney’s crotch and baby makers, bringing forth a loud, painful, keening; “E E E E E E E e e e e.” diminishing until Delaney was slumped over, all the fight kicked out of him, literally!
“That works much better, Chief Kraft!” declared Derrick and walked back toward his track mates, his bare ass cheeks flexing with each step. I have to admit, Derrick did have a fine looking ass and he didn’t seem a bit reluctant to return to the young female officer who’d detained him previously!
Everything pretty well quieted down at that point; the police had plenty of backup, as if any was needed now, the EMT’s were checking out the boys, treating injuries from their triage kits as needed, and clucking their tongues. There were bloody noses, knuckles skinned and bleeding, eyes starting to blacken, bruises forming on faces, ribs, stomachs, and, in most cases shirts or short were torn or ripped off completely. Someone decided Chris needed to be transported to the hospital for a checkup since he seemed to be the one most seriously injured. I hoped my older brother was on duty in the ER; he’d make certain Chris was examined well and taken care of!
I overheard Chief Kraft tell one of the officers to transport Delaney, who now wasn’t as scrunched over as previously but still just as mouthy, to the county lockup and charge him with assault of a child, “Make that children,” Chief Kraft added.
“The little shit hit me first!” bemoaned Delaney, pointing at Chris, now being loaded on an ambulance gurney.
“You’re a fucking liar,” Scotty shouted, “he touched your stomach with his finger and called you a homophobic prick and you hit him!”
“Calm down, Scotty,” Chief Kraft said, “we’ll get your statement in a few minutes. I happened to see what happened and …”
“So did I, Chief,” one of the officers who arrived first, announced.
“So did I,” shouted out about a dozen boys in chorus.
As the arresting officers were reading Delaney his rights, Chief Kraft walked over to Jamie and me and as he neared, Jamie almost leaped from my arms in his eagerness to get to his step-father.
“Oh, Daddy,” he cried out, embracing his step-father, “you came when I pushed the button!”
The Chief pulled him close into his arms, smoothed Jamie’s hair softly with his hand, and with a voice choked with emotion, yet comfort, replied, “Yes, I did Jamie, and I always will!”
The Chief then looked at me, smiled, and continued, “Besides, you had Whit to help protect you, didn’t you?
Jamie nodded as his step-father asked, “Now boys,” speaking to Jamie and me, “what caused this brouhaha?”
Before I could answer, Jamie stepped away from his step-father, wiped his eyes free of tears, and with anger in his voice, face flushed with outrage, pointed an accusing finger at Delaney, and shouted,
“HE SAID BAD THINGS ABOUT WHIT AND ME!”
“What did he say, Jamie?” the Chief probed.
Not to be quieted until he had his say, Jamie, still pointing his finger as if it were a dangerous weapon, waggled it threateningly and shouted, “HE SAID ‘NO HOMOS’ OR ‘FAGGOTS’ COULD RUN TRACK AND TOLD US TO LEAVE AND THAT’S A BAD THING TO SAY!”
Chief Kraft raised his eyebrows, he thought a moment, and said to the two officers holding a handcuffed Delaney in custody, “You heard that; I think we’ll consider an additional charge of bias discrimination, if the States District Attorney will approve.”
Turning to the rest of the track boys, he said, “You boys need to get cleaned up and dressed, after you give the officer who’s watching you, your parents name and phone number. We want them here when we take your statements concerning this little dustup.”
Then with a laugh, he added, “We can’t let them see you running around with your bare asses hanging out, now, can we?” looking at Derrick and a couple of others.
I took a quick look around and the only other one with no shorts and only in his jock strap was Bobby Petrosky. His best friend, Stan Wenzel, his shorts only ripped up the side but his shirt gone, was standing with his arm around Bobby as if comforting him. They were best friends and always together so no one really noticed anything different in how they stood. However, it looked to me Stan’s arm was a little low and if I didn’t know better, had his finger stuck up Bobby’s ass! He just grinned at me and removed his hand after the Chief’s speech. I knew then I wasn’t mistaken! Bobby certainly didn’t object having a digit up his butt and I’d bet it was probably smaller than something else Stan stuck up there every now and then, although I’d never seen Stan or Bobby hard.
Coach Schroeder hustled us all into the locker room to get cleaned up and dressed. “Hustled” probably isn’t the right term to use, since Jamie and I were the only ones dressed, not dirty, or bruised and battered and needed no shelter from a prying public. Derrick on the other hand, wiggled his butt at the female officer that had detained him and received a smack on the shoulder from Scotty.
“But she’s cute,” came the retort from Derrick.
“She’s fucking old enough to be your older sister, much older,” groaned Scotty quietly. “Would you fuck your sister?”
Derrick made a face like he’d swallowed a whole lemon and rattled his head from side to side and wiped his face, smearing some blood across his cheeks. His nose really hadn’t stopped bleeding completely!
You might think it’d be a pretty subdued crowd as we entered the locker room; just the opposite was the case! Our compatriots, our friends, our teammates were a happy band, yakking, chattering, bragging about how each one of them almost won the battle single-handedly, regaling how he or another teammate connected a telling blow on the offending and deserving homo-phob who beat their friend Chris. One after another proclaimed in no uncertain terms how no one better “fuck with anyone on our team.” Occasionally, I could hear one or another say, “no, it doesn’t hurt that much,” or “he couldn’t fight worth a shit; just got in a lucky punch!”
The bravado was all boy talk, but good boy talk since it gave us all a sense of belonging, a bonding of boys into a “real team,” and for Jamie and me, as a couple of now very out gay teens, a sense of belonging to that team! As gay teenagers, an announced couple, it was important and gave us not only legitimacy, but a sense of pride in our fellow students, no matter their sexual preference!
Coach Schroeder, with Chief Kraft by his side, announced he’d visit with us all before practice the next day after we’d given our statements to the police, telling us to get dressed since our parents would be here soon. Those of us who weren’t injured seriously or bandaged badly could take showers before coming out, if we wanted. Boys scurried around getting dressed without showering first; mainly they were excited and wanted to share their stories with the police, their parents, and the world for that matter; they were hyped up and raring to go!
While all of this excitement and chatter was going on, Chief Kraft walked up to our locker, sat down on the bench, got Jamie’s attention, and said,
“Jamie, a policeman will ask you some questions pretty soon, okay?”
Jamie nodded he understood.
“You have to answer them truthfully, only what you saw and heard, nothing else; okay?”
Again, Jamie nodded.
“Momma will be with you, but not me!”
“Why not, Daddy?”
“Because I’m the Chief and I’m in charge and your,” he hesitated, “step-father.”
“Can Whit come with me?” Jamie said softly begging.
“No, Honey,” Chief Kraft responded, “he will be with another policeman answering the same questions.”
Jamie looked at me seeking either support or reassurance, so I said confidently, “Jamie, they just want to see if we tell the same story.”
“Of course we will!” he snickered. “Why wouldn’t we?”
Such innocence he expresses at times and other times he seems so worldly; I just nodded acknowledging he was right and Jamie was happy again!
With that he announced, “Daddy, I’m going to shower; I stink!” and peeled off his shirt and dropped his shorts after taking the GPS device from the waistband and putting it in our locker. Shucking off his shoes, he grabbed his body wash and shampoo.
Chief Kraft laughed and stood up. “I’ll see you boys outside then,” and gave Jamie a light smack on his bare ass and left.
The locker room was pretty well cleared out, except for Jamie and me – and, Stan Wenzel and Bobby Petrosky, who seemed to waiting for everyone to leave, watching us closely as if wondering what our next move would be. It was to the showers!
As usual, Jamie wanted me to shampoo his head and I obliged! Massaging his soapy hair, listening to him hum happily, Bobby and Stan walked into the shower room. It didn’t take long, watching me shampoo Jamie’s hair and his cock start to lengthen just a little, for both of them to bone up. Their four to five inch cut cocks were as hard as fence posts; not big fence posts but quite respectable for our ages!
They seemed quite comfortable in our presence, giving me assurance the four of us batted for the same team, only Bobby and Stan weren’t out to the public yet! With no one else around, they seemed to lose their shyness and secretiveness, feeling secure we wouldn’t reveal their secret. After Jamie shampooed my hair (something he also loved to do), we washed up, rinsed and left Stan and Bobby together in the shower room, carefully and erotically washing each other. I knew why they wanted to stay and so did Jamie; he grinned like a mule eating shit when we walked to our locker, his stiff pecker pointing out front and leading the way!
We stood drying ourselves when we both heard a soft moan emanate from the shower room. Jamie, alert and curious, just had to go look. He scampered back, grinning, and motioning me to follow him.
“They’re doing sex stuff!” he whispered excitedly.
I quickly followed him and when I peeked in the shower room door, Jamie stood behind me, his head over my shoulder, his stomach and chest resting on my back.
Sure enough; Stan had Bobby bent over head first, Stan’s crotch up tight against Bobby’s ass, his chest resting on Bobby’s back, and his ass clenching and relaxing with each little thrust forward as he emptied his boy cream in spurt after spurt into Bobby’s rectum. No doubt about it, folks; Bobby Petrosky was being well and truly fucked by Stan Wenzel and was loving it!
I tried to back up so we could leave and get dressed, hindered somewhat by Jamie’s cock resting in my ass crack making me think of a summer sausage in a hot dog bun! My movement slid it up and back down and part way up again, stopping right at my twitching rosebud.
“Ooops!” Jamie said with a giggle and pulled away, but not before giving the puckered twitchier a bit of a poke!
He was ready for it and I was anxious for it, but maybe this was too soon in our relationship, I thought!
Jamie and I were separated as Chief Kraft said we would be. I was reunited with my parents, taken to an empty room where an officer, one I was familiar with since he was one of those who caught us after our run through the residence hall, made certain I understood I was making the statement voluntarily and my parents were present. He recorded that part with his cell phone; recording the questioning of me with his body cam (all of the campus cops had body cams now) while taking notes as well.
I told him, as he asked the questions, exactly what happened as I recalled it. When I mentioned Delaney told “my boyfriend and me to leave” I took a quick look at my parents to see their reaction. As crazy as it sounds they merely smiled, as it they’d known this all along! Parents can be difficult to understand sometimes, I think! The session didn’t take very long and we were soon on our way home.
Jamie called that night for his goodnight and, when I asked him about the questions he was asked, convinced me we told the same story. At home, he said, his mom and dad expressed how happy they were he had me for a boyfriend. Parents can be so difficult to understand sometimes, I think, but a warm, good feeling settled in my inner self knowing both sets of parents approved of our relationship. Hearing that made me so happy I damned near blew my load in my underwear right then and there. Well, after we rang off, I did blow my load, but into a wad of toilet tissue!
The school, the next day, was just abuzz with talk about what happened at the freshman cross country practice. Jamie and I, when asked about it, only smiled and responded we were told not to talk about it. At track practice, I thought Coach Schroeder would really be mad and punish us for what happened, but all he said was he was disappointed our disagreement with Mr. Delaney manifested itself in a fight, but he could understand why we acted that way. He also made it very clear there are ways, other than fighting, to settle disagreements, and he really didn’t’ expect it to happen again!
Before he turned us loose to run, he informed us starting the next week on Monday, Chief Kraft and a number of officers from the campus police force, the city force, and sheriff’s deputies, would be joining us, on their days off, to run. The officers all expressed their desire to do so, through Chief Kraft, and thought it’d not only keep them in shape, but would be part of their wellness program.
“All of the officers who will be running with you, are former cross country track runners and since I don’t have a student teacher to help me, their help will allow me to spend more time with the junior-varsity and varsity teams.”
A couple of eyebrows went up and Coach just laughed, “Don’t worry; there are some state champions and collegiate champions among them and they can probably teach you more than I can!”
Chris was back in school Friday, black and blue eye and a couple of stitches on his left cheek, but otherwise seemed no worse for wear. He did have a couple of nasty bruises on his left side and leg where he was tossed over the bench, but it didn’t hinder his running that night after school.
Saturday was the University’s first home football game and I asked Jamie if he wanted to have a sleepover afterwards. Naturally he said yes, but he decided he’d better ask his folks first. Chief Kraft thought he’d be pretty busy that day so he felt relieved Jamie would be at my house, out of harm’s way, so to speak. If I had my way, part of me would be more than ‘harmed,’ it’d be completely and accurately bred!
Jamie had never been to a college football game and, man, was he excited! He really had no idea what was going to happen, other than what he’d seen on television, deciding, “I’d really not like to play football; the guys are so big and I think I’d get hurt!”
Our university made a real party out of game day, usually starting around ten in the morning with game time around one in the afternoon. There’d be tailgate parties in the stadium parking lot where alumni and fans celebrated with cookouts, beer, sodas, and just general enjoyment. It was a time to tell tales, laugh at jokes, eat a lot, and brag about days gone by. The closer it got to game time, the conversations usually turned serious; how many points the team would score; whose ass was going to get kicked, and so on. Jamie and I’d make a circuit through the parking lot and help ourselves to food and sodas, along with other stuff, but I knew better than to go near “Frat House Row” on the west side of campus. It could get a bit rowdy over there sometimes and I didn’t want any part of that and especially didn’t want Jamie near it either!
The other three Horsemen met us near the campus school and we walked up to the main campus where the party was in full swing! There were food booths (some free and some you had to pay for (guess which ones we helped ourselves to?) and, in front of one of the residence halls, a small band, set up on the front steps was playing. There was a refreshment table set up with soda and small sandwiches, cookies, and buttons with the university colors (purple and old gold) and the mascot on it, all free, of course.
Some of the college students and adults wandering and gathering in the street and sidewalk were dancing. The band was really quite good so the five of us stood and watched while we munched our goodies and drank our sodas. I noticed Jamie sort of moving, in place, in time with the music, so I grabbed him by the arm, led him into the middle of the group dancing and joined in. It was typical young people type dancing; not arms around each other waltz type like older folks do, but just plain good dancing; feet, arms and bodies moving in time with the music. God it was fun!
Jamie really got into it and, surprise to me, was really, really a good dancer. His body seemed to flow with the music; his slender hips, lithe frame, nimble feet, and delicate hands seemed to be directed toward pleasing me, performing a dance not dissimilar to those mating dances one sees birds or animals or natives in far off lands do when they wish to attract a mate or trying to impress with their own beauty. His eyes fixed on mine and I became lost in those hazel, deep-seeing, passionate windows to the world! He placed his arms over my shoulders, wiggled his way close to me as the music moved him until our crotches touched and began an erotic, rhythmic, controlled action against me, telegraphing his deep passion to my inner core! At that moment, at that very point in time, on the sidewalk of the residence hall, there was no other care in the world for either of us, other than for each other! The surrounding people, the crowd, the game, the other Horsemen, were invisible to us, focusing our barely contained passion, expressing our love for each other in public!
When the song ended, we both were sweating, oblivious to others until we heard people clapping! We looked around and discovered we’d been the only ones dancing! As strange as it seems, neither of us were embarrassed and the Horsemen acted as if it happened every day. Well, it didn’t and neither did Chris’s dance with one of the university girls. He bragged she wanted him in her room for another “dance” but when she found out how old he was, she dropped him like a rock!
The tailgate parties were next; people were always generous in sharing food and drink. We loaded up on grilled burgers, brats, hot dogs, chips, and sodas. Who could turn down a small band of handsome troubadours such as us? My bladder was filling rapidly so I suggested we make a detour to some of the porta-potties set up on the peripheral of the parking lot. I don’t think Jamie ever saw one before and when I explained what it was, he just laughed!
“What’s so funny?” queried Derrick.
After he calmed down, he said, “They’re just like the outdoor biffy behind Grandpa’s barn we use when we’re outside only these can be moved all over.”
“What in the hell is a ‘biffy’,” Chris asked, guardedly.
“One of those,” countered Jamie, pointing at the line of blue fiber-glassed enclosures.
“Didn’t you have indoor plumbing at your grandparents?” Derrick asked uncertain of the possible answer.
Jamie giggled, “Sure we do, you silly goose , we just use the biffys when we’re outside;” thought a moment and with a warning tone, continued, “you have to be very careful when you use them though.”
Scotty was the one who asked why, although I think he was thinking if your bare ass or boy danglers hung invitingly below the open-holed seat, perhaps a barn rat might come along and take a bit of a munch!
“Once,” Jamie explained, eyes wide and expressive, “one of my cousins looked down the hole to see where his turd landed and lost his hat!”
“One of the big-cocked cousins?” Scotty inquired.
“No, it just a baseball hat and it fell from his head.”
“No,” snorted Scotty, “was it one of your big-cocked cousins who lost his hat down the shitter?”
Jamie just waggled his head “no” and illustrated with his finger and thumb a spread of about two or three inches. “He was younger than me and didn’t have any hair around his pecker yet.”
We walked a little further, before Jamie said, “He had to get a new hat. We just about pissed our pants listening to him tell Grandma why.” Jamie thought it was just as hilarious now and laughed just as hard then, I’m willing to bet!
At the edge of the stadium parking lot, a campus policer officer stopped us to visit; he was one of those first to arrive at the scene of our little “dust up” as dad referred to it. The officer was all friendly and nice; asked how Chris was feeling, and finally, smiled and announced, “If you boys don’t mind, I’ll be joining you for practice on Monday. It’s my day off and I think it’d be fun.”
We didn’t mind one bit, it’d be nice to have someone, other than Coach Schroeder, run with us and give us some pointers. As he walked away, evidently to continue his patrol duties, Jamie watched him carefully, silent, totally lost in his thoughts as only Jamie can do sometimes. Finally, with a nod of his head, “I think,” he observed, speaking softly aloud to no one in particular, “I can run faster than him.”
From the parking lot we headed up to the Commons. When Jamie asked why, Chris laughed and said, “You’ll see!”
The drums were sounding their rhythmic marching beat off in the distance. As we stood, amidst the growing crowd of students and fans, the entire marching band could be heard, playing the university fight song, then fast marches, as they loomed into view coming down one of the campus streets from the music building. The drum major, dressed in his bright purple and old gold uniform, head topped with a tall white fur hat, long golden baton pumping up and down as he strutted his stuff, led the band and the phalanx of cheerleaders waving pompoms, shouting, cheers, and encouragement, firing up the crowd!
The band stopped for just a few minutes for the cheerleaders to do some cheers, lifts, and other things before the drum major blew his whistle, pointed the top end of his baton forward, and the parade through campus began, university students, fans, Jamie, me, and the three Horsemen marching, jumping, cheering, and laughing with the rest of them winding through campus, ending up at the stadium!
We headed for the student gate where our activities passes, waved across the scanner, admitted us to the stadium, the game, and all of the festivities inside. The afternoon was sunny, not too warm, just right for a game, and Jamie loved it, especially the half time show the band put on. To make it even better, the university won and the celebration left the stadium and headed for the campus and downtown. The five of us decided it time to go home, so we parted company and Jamie and I headed for his house to pick up his overnight bag. At the house, Jamie’s mom admonished us not to go roaming around since Chief Kraft told her on the radio, “The troops are restless!”
At my house, mom and dad welcomed Jamie and I led him upstairs to my room. It’s not a large room, but overlooks the street through a set of French doors leading to a small balcony on the front entrance porch. Jamie thought that was way cool! Across the hall is the bathroom, one of two on this floor, but the other one is in my folk’s bedroom. I have a double bed, night stand (I keep some lotion, among other things, in the drawer to assist me in jacking off sometimes) desk, dresser, computer table where I have a laptop and desk model, and a console with a stereo, CD player, and television. I have everything in there for studying and entertaining, including Jamie now.
We put his duffle on my bed and I gave him the tour of the house, upstairs (bedrooms), downstairs (kitchen, dining room, bathroom, living room), and basement (family room where my brothers spent a great deal of time when they were home). Jamie spotted the piano in the living room, so I had to promise him I’d play after the tour.
I pulled out the piano bench, opened the cover over the keys, sat down, and was joined by Jamie. Mom and dad were pleased I was going to play so seated themselves in the living room as well to listen. I played through my recital piece, which Jamie loved by the way, and continued for another hour with not only classical, but a mix of popular, and “moldy oldies” as I referred to them my parent loved. Jamie loved it all and there were times I could hear him softly humming along if he recognized something.
After dinner (pizza) we headed upstairs, watch a little television while we lay on my bed. I sat with my back up against the head board while Jamie settled in between my legs, his back resting up against my chest. Putting my arms around him, I heard a sigh of satisfaction from him. After an hour or so, we decided it was time for bed, grabbed couple of towels, and headed across the hall to brush our teeth and shower. The shower is big enough for the two of us to get in together, so we did. Scrubbed and rinsed, hard as rock candy, we giggled, and bare-assed naked, raced across the hall to my room, shut the door (and locked it by the way), to get ready for bed.
I rummaged around in my dresser and found a pair of sleep shorts to wear. Ordinarily I sleep either in my underwear or most time, just in my birthday suit, but Jamie was sporting pajama bottoms, so I figured I’d better wear something too. The bedroom was lighted only with the reflected light from a street light down the block, but it was enough to see each other.
Jamie snuggled up against me, his head on my right shoulder, his warm soft chest up against my side, his pajama clad bottom half pushed tight against my hip, and his big stiff cock lengthened out against my hip bone, slipping about in its cloth enclosure.
“Whit?” he asked.
“You make me hard!”
“Yeah, I can feel it. Mine is too.”
“Can I feel it, please?”
Without hesitation, I quick assented, provided, “Can I feel yours, Jamie?”
He nodded his approval as his hand creeped across my stomach to the fly front on the sleep shorts, encountering my stiff cock, and gently squeezed it. I quickly slipped my shorts down and off to give him better access and me more pleasure from his touch.
Jamie explored my nether regions, running his fingers gently through my pubic bush, lifting and fondling my balls as if they were precious jewels, and finally ran his fingers up one side and down the other side of my cock, and using his fingers, felt all around my cock-head, feeling the sticky pre-cum emerging from the slit, before rubbing it carefully around.
“It feels different than mine,” he said, almost adoringly. “It’s so smooth, warm, soft and hard though like mine, but there’s no extra skin like I got.”
Before I could explain circumcision to him, he said thoughtfully, “All of my cousins, the boys only,” he quickly added, “got extra skin like me, but one has a really long piece that doesn’t skin back when he gets hard.”
I reached over and, with Jamie’s help, removed his pajama bottoms, leaving him just as naked as me. Even in the dim light he looked absolutely beautiful to me. His light, natural tan complexion only seemed enhanced by the faint light. His cock, big, twitching as I touched him, was smooth as velvet, stiff in its erection, warm and inviting, the knob peeking out of his foreskin about half way, and inviting me to stroke it several times, which I did! He moaned in pleasure and my heart started doing flip-flops, so deeply in love was I with Jamie Long!
Jamie tried getting closer, if he could, but I moved him to his back much to his puzzlement, until I began kissing him, first on the mouth (man could he ever kiss), down across his chest, nibbling on his nips as I went by, down to his lower stomach, just above his pubes, stopping to move his throbbing cock out of the way so I could nuzzle that sparse hair patch, before taking the head of his penis in my mouth. When I did, he gasped and straightened his legs out, but I brought him back to me before he could cum, by securing that large scrotum with his precious jewels inside, in my hand. Jamie started to thrust and after about a dozen bobs up and down on his thick magnificence (it was too big to deep-throat him and this was the first time I’d ever had a cock in my mouth), his cock-head began to swell, his balls shrugged up tighter, and he came and came and came; so much I couldn’t swallow it all, although I wanted to, and his abundant cum dribbled down my chin onto his stomach.
When he finished, he announced breathlessly, “I shoot a lot!”
He sure as hell did!
Jamie continued to shiver and quiver slightly after his release; relaxed his body somewhat, sighed contentedly, but didn’t soften as I cleaned up around his cockhead and balls, lapping and licking like a mother cat does to her kittens. He seemed to purr just as happily! His hand on my head, softly caressing my hair, gently stroking my face, and his soft noise of joy, indicated to me, not only his satisfaction with what happened, but an outward manifestation of his love for me!
Letting him slip from my mouth, I savored his lingering essence, tasting slightly salty, nutty, yet sweet and pleasing on my tongue, before raising my head and shifting my body so our lips could re-engage, allowing him to taste himself from my mouth as I enjoyed his marvelous lips and tongue.
Jamie permitted my facial contact for only a few minutes, but during that time, caressed, tickled, and passionately fueled my ardor through his lips, before pulling away, swiveling around and engulfing my own turgid rod in the same moist cavity my own lips recently opened and my tongue explored!
“Oh, my God, Jamie!” I moaned as I stiffened ever more, if it is at all possible, the head of my penis swelling to what felt like the bursting point, as his tongue and soft, moist lips, danced, pranced, cosseted, and stroked my length and head. I didn’t last long under this erotic, stimulating, orgasm-producing assault, my voice shivering in ecstasy, “Jamie, my love, I’m cumming!” expecting him to pull off and let me shoot on my stomach, but he locked his lips on tight, swallowing each spurt as I twitched and pulsed through my very strong orgasm!
His lips popped free at my finish, raised his head, and positioned his body so his hips rested between my thighs, his cock resting just below my balls, stomach on mine, and his head resting on my shoulder, close enough to kiss me.
“You taste good, Whit!” he sighed, kissed me and lay his head on my shoulder his lips resting on my neck.
“You do too, Jamie,” I responded, breathing in the fragrance of him, feeling his warmth against me, as my arms wrapped around him. “I love you so much!”
“I love you too, Whit!” he said softly just before he dozed off.
Waking in the morning, I was not surprised to find Jamie still sound asleep, basically in the same position, except now, with every breath he took, his hard, big cock, resting up tight against my wrinkled pucker hole, would nudge forward, bringing a little jolt of anticipation from me. I contemplated raising my legs, taking his cock in hand and seeing if I couldn’t seat it where I wanted it to go, but decided not to. He wasn’t lubed, I wasn’t lubed, he was big, and I never had anything larger than my middle finger up there before!
Good thing I didn’t; a light rap on the door and the voice of my mother announced breakfast in a half hour and we should be getting up! Jamie woke at the sound and we had a few minutes to enjoy each other and we did before dressing, brushing our teeth, and joining my parents. The night together was our first and for both of us, heaven on earth!
Coach Schroeder announced on Monday, at practice, we had a week to prepare for our first cross country meet; an invitational held by the city school district at the public high school cross country track route they usually use on the outskirts of town at the state park a few miles outside of the city. There’d be six teams participating from five other schools, including the city public school. It was one of but a few meets to involve schools in our area with large numbers of freshman participants in cross country track, introducing young runners to competition without having to compete against the older high school runners.
The varsity and junior varsity cross country track teams were already, practicing, running our course when we started. We were joined by Chief Kraft, a county deputy sheriff, and the campus policeman we saw at the football game. Jamie thought his step-father and the other two officers looked comical and absolutely hilarious dressed in tee-shirts, shorts, running shoes, bullet proof vest, and gun belt with gun, badge, and small radio attached.
I saw something entirely different; Chief Kraft was lean, but well developed, quite fit for his age, and definitely a runner in times past and present by the way he stretched and limbered up for the run ahead. His body frame was not that much different from Jamie’s, only more mature and developed. The other two officers were just as lean, just as fit, but younger; clearly runners before and runners now!
After Chief Kraft explained to Jamie, and the rest of us since we were just as curious but didn’t ask, although they were all technically off duty, they still had to be prepared, especially when working on campus where there were many young people, us included. I thought somewhat differently; a policeman is always a policeman wherever he or she is. One branch of law enforcement I was familiar with has on its badges “protection all ways” or something similar.
Jamie, the Horsemen, and the campus policeman led the pack while Chief Kraft and the deputy sheriff brought up the rear. I watched Jamie carefully as the campus policeman picked up the pace; Jamie did the same, keeping up but maintaining a one to two strides behind him; not leading, but just, and barely just, behind him.
The Horsemen kept up, running with Jamie, sort of sorting ourselves, but staying ahead of the rest of the team. I heard Chief Kraft, somewhere in the back, instructing runners to “lengthen your stride and pace yourselves,” and “draft behind the runner in front of you if you can.” As we neared the finish line, the campus policeman decided to step up the game, but Jamie would have none of that; of course, neither did the Horseman so we kicked ass as well! Fifty yards from the finish, Jamie really kicked ass, sprinted across the line a good five yards ahead of the campus cop! We were pumping just as hard, following Jamie’s lead and sprint, and finished behind him, followed by the campus policeman. Jamie, shy, humble Jamie, prone not to brag or call attention to himself, just grinned at me after he crossed the finish line! I love that guy so much!
The next day at practice, we were joined by Chief Kraft, Coach Schroeder, and a very lean, legs well-muscled, city policeman, who in everyone’s assessment, might just be more of a challenge to us and very well was going to best us. Walking out from the locker room, Jamie walked behind the city cop and, on the course, perhaps the first one hundred meters, ran about four or five strides behind him, watching the man’s moves carefully.
“What’s up?” asked Scotty running beside me, just behind Jamie, wondering why we were hanging back.
I shrugged! At that moment I was just as much in the dark as he was as to Jamie’s intentions. The other Horsemen were just as anxious to bust loose, but Jamie wasn’t. Something was going through Jamie’s head, but at that point in time I just couldn’t figure it out! I took about two more strides, and suddenly remembered what he said in the parking lot, watching the campus police officer walk away! Jamie was assessing the man’s running style, checking out his moves, trying to determine how to best him in the race! Whether he fully realized what he was doing, in so many words, I didn’t have a clue, but that’s exactly what he was doing. I came to the conclusion there have been many people who underestimated the capabilities of Jamie Long! Perhaps he did have a reading problem; perhaps he struggled in math, science and other academics, but his mind worked in other ways than most people, and was very gifted in other ways as well!
Jamie suddenly pulled up alongside of the city policeman, joined by the rest of us, glanced at him, and maintained a steady pace. As the policeman increased his speed, so did Jamie; if he slowed down, so did Jamie, but kept just about one stride in the lead. Today, instead of fifty meters, Jamie kicked his ass in gear about one hundred meters from the finish line. The cop seemed to have anticipated the move and poured the gas to it as well. That son-of-a-gun was one fast mother-fucker! We had no choice but to try to gain the advantage and pumped our ass to catch up!
At the finish Jamie was first, the cop second, Scotty third, me fourth, Derrick fifth, and Chris, sixth. It took us a bit to cool down and catch our breath. The cop congratulated us and we just wheezed a “thank you!” We later learned the police officer was not only a high school state champion, but a collegiate champ as well!
In the locker room, after practice and we were heading toward the showers, I overheard Coach Schroeder talking,
“I tell you Jack, he runs just like you did in college; assessing the other runners, watching for the leader, letting the leader set a pace, and then tromping the shit out of him toward the end!”
“We’ll see!” was the response.
The voice responding was Chief Kraft and Coach Schroeder called him “Jack!” “It gets curiouser and curiouser said Alice,” I thought, but would bide my time. With that, Jamie tickled my butt with his finger as he walked by and began chattering how the city cop almost beat us, but “Pegasus and the Horseman raced ahead,” he said with a giggle and a jiggle of that cute, pert, ass of his as he walked ahead of me to the shower!
I was in the process of shampooing Jamie’s hair when Chief Kraft poked his head into the shower room (luckily we weren’t boned up); “Want a ride home, Jamie?”
“No, Daddy, Whit will walk me home, okay?”
Our lips met with the tenderness, eagerness, and passion of youth as we said our goodbyes in front of Jamie’s. Walking home, I could only wonder at the changes in my life since I met Jamie Long. It was all I could do to keep myself from grabbing him, hugging him, or pleasuring him as we did at my house that night, while in school. We both knew, however, there are certain things done between lovers which are quite private and really not for public consumption or criticism. Still, Jamie holding my hand as we walked to and from school or in school was not seemed to be unusual by others or frowned upon; after all it was “Jamie and Whit.”
Eating our lunch the next day, the five of us, actually four of us since Jamie was engaged in eating and not talking, were curious what adults would be at practice and what different approach or strategy would be used by Coach Schroeder. As I said, Jamie could’ve cared less, he was carefully examining one of the chicken strips served as the main entrée. Holding it in front of his mouth with two fingers, he tilted his head from one side to the other, finally took a bite, sort of rolled over and around in his mouth, chewed it, and swallowed it before taking another bite.
Chris, always leery of Jamie’s dining habits and side comments, narrowed his eyes suspiciously, before asking, “What’s wrong with the chicken?”
Jamie slowly chewed the piece now in his mouth, swallowed it before answering (“Grandma Long said it wasn’t polite to eat with your mouth full” he informed us one day), “Some people say frog legs taste like chicken,” he said slowly, pondering another chicken strip held between his fingers and extending it for us to inspect it.
“Frog legs?” squeaked Chris, clearly aghast and somewhat queasy someone would venture to eat a portion of those denizens of meadows and ponds.
“Yeah,” continued Jamie, “in the fall, when the bullfrogs got nice and fat, Grandpa and me, and sometimes some of my cousins, would go out at night with big flashlights, nets, and sometimes little frog spears on long poles, and either net them or stab them. Shine a light out on the pond or in the meadow and when their eyes light up, WHAM,” he exclaimed hitting the table causing us all to jump and Chris’ eyes to get big and his Adam’s apple bob up and down, “we’d have him!”
“Grandpa would skin them out, just the legs; Grandma would roll them in flour, salt, and pepper, and fry them in butter. Boy were they good, but they didn’t taste like chicken.”
“What did they taste like?” Chris asked swallowing hard.
“Frog legs!” snorted Jamie, “but,” he continued after plopping another chicken strip in his mouth, “some people also say crawdads taste like lobster, but I never ate a lobster before so I don’t know about that.”
“Crawdads?” groaned Chris, now becoming more certain things were not going to get pleasant for him, convinced he was going to hear something he had no desire to hear, but, like a moth to the flame, couldn’t resist!
“Yeah, Grandpa had these wire traps we’d bait with dead fish or rotten chicken guts or anything stinky, put them in the river at night and the crawdads would crawl in to eat and in the morning we’d pull the traps and empty all of the crawdads out. They were always big and fat.”
Jamie took another bite of chicken, chewed on it as Chris watched, listened, and began swallowing hard again.
“You really had to be careful though,” Jamie cautioned, “’cause they can really pinch with their claws,” taking another bite of chicken. “One time when we were skinny dipping one of my cousins was pinched.”
“A big-cocked one?” Scotty asked. He seemed to have quite an interest in Jamie’s big-cocked cousins.
“No, it was a small crawdad!” Jamie answered.
He thought a moment and said conclusively, “I never looked to see if a crawdad has a cock, so I don’t know!”
Okay, was the story over? Not by a long shot!
“Grandpa would put the crawdads in a tub of fresh water for a couple of days to get the muddy and stinky taste out of them and then we’d drop them in a pot of boiling water to cook them.”
“Alive, I’ll bet,” lamented Chris, a painful expression on his face.
“Yep! Sometimes they really wiggled! When they turned red, they were done. Grandpa would scoop them out of the boiling water, we’d break off the tails, peel them, and Grandma would make a stew she called ‘gumbo’ she learned from her grandma. It’s really, really good!”
“I’ll bet!” remarked Chris, wrinkling his nose in doubt and distaste.
“You know what’s really good?” Jamie asked, eying the last chicken strip with contemplation.
Chris just had to ask; “What?”
“When you pull the heads from the tails, sucking all of the good stuff out of the head!” and snapped up the chicken strip!
“That’s it!” Chris snorted, swallowed really, really hard, and bolted from the table heading toward the hall and the boy’s restroom!
Jamie looked around and wondered if the bell had rung since Chris was in such a hurry to leave.
Practice after school was different; Chief Kraft was accompanied by almost a dozen officers from campus, the city, and the county. They were all dressed for running, lean looking, and trim like distance runners do! Should be interesting, I thought to myself looking the crew over. I wasn’t the only one scrutinizing the newcomers; Jamie was checking them out like they were naked new boys joining us in the shower; carefully appraising each one’s qualities!
Coach Schroeder explained the adults were going to lead the pack and our job, as a team, would be to get through their blocking action as we ran!
“When you’re in a large group of runners,” he explained, “such as you’ll encounter in this weekend’s invitational and you’re started in the back or middle of the pack, you have to break through as quickly as possible. If you don’t the others in front of you can slow you down and affect your time. You don’t want that to happen, if you can prevent it.”
We all nodded we understood, but he added, “Jamie, Scotty, Whit, Chris, and Derrick, since you seem to have some of the fastest times, you’ll be at the very back of the pack to start!”
Scotty quickly huddled the five of us and said quietly, “Jamie, we’re going to follow you, okay? We’ll be so close to you you’ll think our noses are up your ass.”
Jamie thought that was funny and waggled his eyebrows at me!
“What you do, we do! Right guys? Pegasus leads the Four Horsemen, understand?”
Jamie added softly, looking at Chief Kraft, “I think we might have to watch my Daddy pretty good, but …..” and broke off, narrowing his eyes as if taking the measure of Chief Kraft as a running opponent.
One hundred meters into the race, Jamie maneuvered us into the middle of the pack, then soon behind the cops! Soon, he was drifting to the right side, causing us to follow and allowing the rest of the pack to slip in behind the officers again. The course made a relatively sharp curve to the right and just before we entered it, Jamie hauled ass and started to pass the others on the side of the curve! As he came even with the cops, he dropped behind them just a bit before shuffling and sliding up between a campus officer and Chief Kraft. Taking the hint, the four of us then slipped between two officers as well, cutting off their contact with each other and causing them to break ranks.
I heard Jamie say, “Hi, Daddy,” and we ran! Two hundred meters from the finish, where Coach Schroeder waited, Jamie said, “Bye, Daddy,” and poured the coals to his legs and feet! The Four Horsemen, following Pegasus’s lead, did the same and the cops and Chief Kraft had no choice but to energize their efforts as well.
The faster we ran, the faster and harder they ran! At the finish, Chief Kraft and Jamie were pretty much tied, while it was different I thought from my point of view, to determine who placed after that. I know I was about an arm’s length in front of the campus officer who’d been dogging my pace like a stud pup chasing a bitch in heat!
We were all tired, trying to catch our breath by bending over, breathing deeply, walking around gasping for breath, taking in big gulps of air as we stretched our legs and bodies in an effort to recover! Looking over at Jamie I noticed Chief Kraft had his arms around him, hugging him close and sort of rocking him. I heard the Chief say, “Jamie, son, run like that, and you’ll win every race!”
Jamie looked up at him, smiled his delightful smile I loved so well, and I was struck, again, looking at both of them smiling at each other, noticing the color of their eyes, their light, natural tan, and the shape of their smile, how much they looked like each other!To be continued.
Thank you for reading “Jamie’s Gift” Chapter Four.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or locales is entirely coincidental.
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