Chapter 02. My history, the early years.
In southwest Houston everyone seemed to have some amount of Hispanic blood, I wasn't Hispanic but I grew up with friends who had names like Miguel and Pancho. My neighbors called me 'AH-lay.' My grandparents told me their ancestors were from France and Belgium, but I'm not sure I could find Belgium on a map. I was only 14 so I still got time to find it.
By ninth grade I'd never done it with a girl. I've dated a couple but nothing happened beyond hand holding and me paying for everything. In all honesty I could go either way. I think I could get naked with anyone I loved a lot, regardless of if they were named Juan or Juanita. To me, love is love. But I ain't never been in love with anyone yet. At 5'10" I'm not the tallest guy and it seems girls only notice the tallest and best looking boys. So for now I'll focus on homework and riding my bike.
I'm into long bike rides. My longest trip so far was 29 miles across the south suburbs of Houston, and then Mom rescued me at a gas station over in Pearland. I got a really nice TREK aluminum 21 speed street bike and a riding suit, helmet, and bright flashing lights front and back. My helmet has speakers so I just keep pedaling and see how far I can go before hunger or a flat tire makes me stop. I bought my TREK used on Craig's List and then got Kevlar tires ($115 each) that were supposed to be nearly impossible to puncture. I worked an entire summer and fall mowing lawns and raking leaves to afford it last winter, it was my Christmas present to myself. It was the biggest investment of my life so far and I was very protective of it. The Trek was only for road trips, never for errands. I had another small mountain bike for riding around the neighborhood but I usually rode the bus. The new bike stood in my bedroom against the wall.
The guy selling the bike was a middle aged man that really wanted me to own it so he held it for months while I earned the cash, then he gave me (free) all the accessories he got for it, like a really nice tire pump and tiny LED lights for the front and back. The new tires are the kind that needs around 105psi.
I met Daniel in my first week of high school; he was in two of my classes. I noticed him because he sat in front of me in English (I got to stare at the scars on the back of his head for 55 minutes, three times a week) and our lockers were close in PE too. Otherwise I recognized a couple guys (Tom and Scotty) and Jennifer from eighth grade English. In PE everyone had to do eight laps around the track which was something like two and a half miles. Since Dan recognized me from English (and the smoking area) and our lockers were really close we got to talking and introduced ourselves. He was about one inch taller and rather thin with short black hair and eyes and much darker skin, I assumed he was Hispanic like everyone else in town. Like me, he had a local south-Texas accent, we both spoke fluent Houstonian.
In case you don't know, the H in Houston is silent. It's pronounced 'YOU-stin.' How you say it is a BFD in Texas. Texans will correct you, I hear it's the same deal in Arizona with how you pronounce the town name: 'Prescott,' they say it so it sounds like: presSKIT. But I ain't goin there any time soon!
The two of us slowly jogged our eight laps and talked, he seemed to be panting harder than me so I suspected he was a heavier smoker, more than me. Smoking these tiny battery powered things is currently popular in our school, but I can't afford it very often and it's a waste of money. Daniel said he worked at a grocery store as a part time stocker, I told him I was self-employed in my neighborhood cutting lawns every weekend and blowing leaves in the fall. He said he liked working at Piggly Wiggly because they left him alone and he was allowed to stock shelves while wearing wireless ear buds linked to his cell. We both liked the same music, but so did everyone else. If you want to be counter-culture-cool here you gotta like classic rock from the 1960s to the 80s and dress like Mick Jagger in 1961 going to the record store alone.
On the oval track we actually started walking but swung our arms so it looked like we were jogging, and we realized nobody was actually counting so we just kept moving slowly around the track and made it look like we were good Do-Bees, doing as ordered.
After gym when we stopped at the water fountains I wrote my cell # on his calendar, and he said he'd text me later so we could do English homework together. So we sort of hit it off right away. He said he was a bachelor but looking. He already picked out a few babes to target, he said they were checking out his ass and commenting to each other.
After PE I had Spanish-1 then I was done for the day, but I had two periods off (before it was time to get on the bus), hopefully enough time to get ahead on homework and reading. I spent my last two periods in the library, but I went out to the smoking area when I saw Daniel out there. Sometimes I ask people for a little hit off their cigarette. After 12th period I got on the bus for the horrible ride home. I often got a headache riding the bus because it's too loud inside.
Over the rest of the year Daniel and I got to be very good friends and did English homework together and paired off in gym. For the first few months in PE we did track, flag football or basketball. I cannot do basketball and Dan tried to cover for my inability to dribble or shoot. Early in our friendship I told him I was diagnosed in 5th grade with Asperger Syndrome but he didn't know what that meant and I told him I had almost no hand-to-eye coordination but I was great at remembering things and pretty good with number and puzzles. Dan's only comment was 'whatever dude.' If I had said something like with Asperger's girls are magically attracted to my penis, he might have been more interested and maybe even checked out a book from the library on the subject.
Dan was into pencil sketching, he took it in art class for some easy credits. I had zero artistic ability, but it was neat watching him turn a blank sheet of paper into a really nice drawing. He loved drawing rural farm scenery with horses, lots of trees, and old barns. He said he hated roosters and never sketched large birds because one time when he was a kid he was attacked by a Canadian goose. He showed me the scars on his back and his neck. He said geese are horrible birds and he'd love to shoot a bunch of them for revenge some day. I laughed but the look on his face said he wasn't kidding. I could see it someday: his name in the news being arrested for shooting twenty geese on a pond somewhere.
In early October one weekend I invited him over on Saturday night for pizza, I made it myself and the dough too. He brought over his sketch pad and pencils. We ate in my bedroom and I showed him my collection of true crime books. "What's true crime?" He asked. "They're stories based on real crimes but the names and locations are changed. Most of the time they describe how cops solved the crime and busted the perp, I love the language the cops use, and the science too."
"How many's there?" He gestured to my rather large collection of paperback books. I smiled and mumbled that "I have five hundred thirty seven. People throw 'em away in recycling so I pick 'em out. And I buy them by the bag at garage sales but it's getting harder to find ones I don't have."
"You read all them?" he asked and I simply nodded yes. He sighed and pulled one off the shelf. He grabbed the one about the dead twin-sisters in Maine back in 1965. That was a grisly murder but it took nine years to solve the case and convict the killer.
He leaned back on my bed and started reading. "Oh, they got pictures too!" he commented. "Yep, sometimes they get gross but the cheap ones only have pictures in black and white so blood looks like black paint." He said he could sketch some if they were outside, he said he never did an indoor sketch before. I thought that was weird. I almost said, 'Whatever dude,' but I kept it inside.
I sat on the chair by my desk and glanced at him reading with his head on my pillow and noticed how nicely shaped his upper body and chest looked. He said he never lifted weights but his chest looked a little developed and his arms looked like he's done some curls. I was pale and skinny and looked like a 6th grader under my shirt so I was slow to pull my shirt off in front of anyone. I had to in school but I did it really fast. Dan and I had been showering together twice a week since school started, which I think made us a little closer. I always noticed he looked tanned all year and his nut sack was rather dark.
That evening after pizza he asked me if my hand-to-eye thing included art and I said it was across the board, "I have a hard time with computer games, joysticks, and ball sports in general." He said he looked up Asperger but didn't really understand what it said. I got my cell and did a search and read it out loud. It's important to me if we're going to be friends that he understood this one thing about me.
Wikipedia says: "...significant difficulties in social interaction and nonverbal communication combined with restricted and repetitive patterns of behavior and interests."
Daniel asked what all that meant and I told him I'd explain it over time. But the good news was it wasn't contagious. I paused for a moment then told him that most Aspies had some kind of obsession, mine was true crime books. I was standing in front of the shelves in my bedroom, he looked at them and laughed and said "I see!" And then he said his obsession was Marta Glunt's breasts. Then he made a kissing motion and pretended to be jerking off, that made me laugh. I guess that also meant he was right handed like me. Marta was some chick in his art class and I think he knew her in 8th grade too.
"I swear she takes off her bra just before art class, I checked. Third period: no visible lumps, fourth period art class, lump city!" I suggested it might be air conditioning in the art room, he said he never thought about that, but that could be it. "Anyway, she certainly looks perky for a fifteen year old, makes me wonder if she's been pregnant before because they really poke out sometimes."
I said, "Some girls get 'em because their mother and grandmother were that way too."
He reached his hand under his shirt and rubbed his chest and said he loves tits. I told him "Amen brother!" My friend Jennifer got breasts early, Jen's started to grow in fourth grade. We talked about her tits and my dick almost weekly back then, Jen was more curious about dicks than I was about female body parts.
I told Daniel "You know why in grocery stores the milk and frozen foods are always just before the check outs?" He said, "So their Klondike bars don't melt?"
I said, "No, it's so their nipples are still perky and erect when they get up to the register so everyone can admire them." He laughed loudly and boasted he was going to transfer to frozen foods. We both had a good laugh. But I wasn't kidding.
By the December holidays we'd become best friends. We texted often and visited a couple times a month for some kind of dinner one of us made. Daniel liked to make a big dinner for his family and they invited me over to join the party. Those were great evenings. Neither of us had driver's license but they were visible on the horizon. I think his father quickly guessed I had Asperger and asked me once, but Dan still acted like it was a non-issue, yesterday's news. His father was a psychologist who taught courses at two local universities. His mom worked for a mortgage broker.
Dan's father was very respectful when he asked for permission to ask me a personal question at the dinner table, I said yes. He asked if I knew what Asperger Syndrome was and I said I was an Aspie. He said he could tell because everything I said was very concrete, no innuendo, no hinting, no mention of sports, and denials of doing anything that required dexterity. And then he let the subject drop. I asked him if Dan had a diagnosis and he said, "Nope, Danny is boringly normal, reached all his developmental milestones on time."
Listening to his parents I sort of got the idea they smoked weed but Dan refused to even consider it.
At the table in a serious tone Daniel told his father, "Alex hasn't reached all his developmental milestones yet." His father said, "Really?"
Dan said if being able to hit a ball with a bat, dribble a basket ball, and draw stick people are developmental then Alex is still not there. We all chuckled, but his joke was the truth. His dad said it sounded like Asperger Syndrome.
During freshman year Dan and I invented a technique called 'team-homework.' We studied over the internet so well that we decided to form a homework alliance and coordinated some of our classes to make high school easier and more effective. My grades went up and up, except gym. He tried to cover for me but my lack of balance and coordination was obvious. I tripped and fell in basketball nine times that semester. Yes, I was that one kid that could not catch a baseball, and I swung a bat like a girl. Everyone laughed and I learned to ignore it. Dan even took me and three balls and two bats to a local park to practice one Sunday but I only got marginally better. He said he thought it was something to do with my eyesight. I told him it was something to do with my sensory nerves, but mostly it was hand-to-eye coordination. We tried the same thing with basketball but I never improved dribbling. It's just too many things going on at once for my brain. We tried pinball once but although it was fun I sucked at it. He got me to play some games on his Playstation but that was also a total fail. Trying to make it as easy as possible he put in the disc with the old game called Pong and I was totally unable to play. I think watching me struggle with Pong really opened his eyes to the idea that there were invisible handicaps some people had. I was the first person with Autism he ever met.
One time when the coach shouted at me for my inability to dribble Daniel stepped up and shouted back, "He's got a medical condition, leave him alone, or else!" The coach stepped in and shouted, "Or else what?" And Daniel stepped closer and softly said, "Or else civil rights lawyers and Board of Education, Sir." The coach blew his whistle in Dan's face and told the entire class to hit the showers, but it was almost time for the bell anyway. Nobody laughed at me after his stand and the next time we were alone without saying anything I hugged him tightly and nearly cried. Dan actually hugged me back; it was a bonding moment for us. From then on every time we played ball in gym the teacher politely asked if I wanted to try or watch from the bench. It opted for the bench along with one other kid with Asperger.
Freshman year turned into sophomore year and the next big topic at school was Driver's Ed and getting a license. After that goal was accomplished the next big goal (the unspoken drive to lose one's virginity) was losing our V's that summer. I spent more time with Jen and Daniel was frequently seen with Liz. Despite our romance obligations we kept studying for our common courses and the next big goal was SAT prep, those were scheduled for May-June in junior year. We also discussed continuing 'team-homework' in college, he wanted to be in psychology or sociology (like his father) and I wanted to be a scientist/detective, but I guess you had to be a cop first, but I had no desire to be a cop.
Then I learned in larger police departments you could be an entry level investigator with a specific graduate science degree. My mother and I drove to an open house at the Houston Metro Detective Bureau where for the first time I publically confessed my interest in solving cold case crimes using science and math as primary tools. During junior year the school offered a SAT prep course during both semesters so I took it all year and made an appointment to take the SATS three weeks after the school year ended (June 12th).
That was one of the first big mistakes I found in Mom's high school Bingo sheet, she never listed taking SAT prep courses in school. She said when she was in high school there were no SAT courses, you had to know your shit. She told me she took SATs too but forgot since it was over 20 years ago.
Whenever Jen and I hung out we often brought along an SAT study book and quizzed each other. One weekend while my parents were out of town we studied together on my bed but took off our clothes first because she wanted me to gently mess around with her body, she was on her back with her knees up and wide apart while I had my arm on her stomach. I was on my stomach on a pillow with the fat SAT study guide open reading questions out loud with the other arm on her belly and chest. She spent time with her fingers in her crotch rubbing her spot while I fingertip massaged her areolas and nips. Her nips don't stick out very far and they are kinda small too, probably because she never got pregnant.
After an hour we swapped positions and I got on my back with my legs spread. She laid on her tummy between my legs with the SAT book on my chest and my boner at her lips. She licked the head and read questions out loud then we discussed why the right answer was correct. Every time I produced a drop of boy lube she licked it off and read a few more questions and answers. We spent a lot of hours that way studying but seldom had actual intercourse.
The rest of high school I obsessed over college (and getting away from my parents), Dan spent a lot of time licking and kissing Liz. Romance lowered his grades but he snapped out of it and brought his GPA back up to get into UTA with me, we'll be on a buddy system agreement and focus on the classes we had in common, which for the first year is nearly everything. Year-one at college you mostly took courses that started with 'Intro to.'
We got our total scores back and forwarded them to UTA, Jen got 1445 and I got 1340. Dan got 1290 but I had to pry it out of him. She was proud she scored higher but she always has been smarter. I think she maintains focus better/longer than me. The day we all mailed our scores to UTA we celebrated with pizza at Hardy's Pizza in town. It was a pizzeria inside a bowling alley, we split the bill equally.
Finally, we graduated from high school and spent that summer saving cash and getting packed for the move to Austin. I was super scared and super excited to leave the nest. One evening during dinner my asshole father said something he thought was terribly funny, "After you leave for Austin we'll empty your room and fix up the house and sell it and not send you our new address." He laughed and then mom back-handed him across the mouth (hard), at the dinner table! He sat there with a stunned look on his face then finished eating and remained silent the rest of the day. She went to their room and cried. I went to my room and imagined pushing needles into my Daddy voodoo doll.
Just before Labor Day weekend I turned 18 and went to a party with Jen (turned 18 weeks ago) at an outdoor venue. We spent Saturday night there wrapped in a blanket on the lawn, the band played until 2am and we made love. I lost count, but my history of conquests was small enough to be counted on one hand, if you don't count practice sessions. For that you'd need Microsoft Office.
Jen was a real character. She's about 5'6" and curly red hair, thick ugly glasses, maybe A-cup breasts, maybe 110 pounds. She has a great personality and a boy's sense of humor. She prefers the company of boys and always liked to do boy stuff. Back when we were little kids she frequently wanted to show off how her breasts were developing.
Her body back then and now could best be described as squishy looking. She's round and smooth and looks like God put her on earth to crank out several liters of puppies, but I don't think she wants to be a mother or a housewife. But back in fourth grade I showed her mine and she opened her shirt and displayed her growing breasts and her widening nipples, but it wasn't very interesting. She wanted us to touch and she closely examined mine many times over the years. I pulled down my shorts and got on my back and let her examine it like she was pretending to be a dick doctor. She was curious about the scar, so I told her about foreskins and mine was cut off the day I was born. I felt her breasts several times but decided not to touch her baby making parts.
We were very good friends but I'm not 'in love' with her. You know that special feeling when you meet someone and their presence does something to your common sense. I don't have that with Jen, but she is a very good friend, maybe my only true friend. I could see us being friends forever.
Jen seems to confuse like and love. So I say 'hi friend,' but she hears 'I love you babe.' If I buy her a can of soda she thinks its proof. Jen believes I don't say the three words because I'm one of those men. She's already forgiven me for not saying the 'three words' enough. So I sort of have to be careful what I say to her. Jen has an older brother so I have to be careful around him too. If she told her brother I hurt her they'd never find my corpse. Jeff is a huge dude.
My parents agreed to store some of my belongings and my two bicycles. They put hooks in the garage ceiling and hung my bikes upside down.
Labor Day Weekend eventually arrived and we got in Daniel's used clunker on Tuesday morning (an old Chevy Impala) and drove northwest to Austin on Highway 290. The university campus is in the middle of Austin. He printed out two road maps.
We shared a dorm room and did everything together. His GF from high school (Liz) enlisted in the Navy to serve on the carrier Nimitz as a medical corpsman after she finished nursing school (in Houston) and passed NCLEX. Of course having a best friend in the military was usually a relationship killer. Jen also went to UTA and we continued to date a couple times a month. Jen lived with her aunt in Austin but her aunt was extremely Baptist so we couldn't visit there. We weren't even allowed to sit on the sofa together!
At home and Austin we regularly talked about sex but she (pretended she) had no clue how to handle a boner. I demonstrated the proper technique several times but she failed every tutor session. I considered maybe she had Asperger but not too many girls could master the simple technique of properly wanking or blowing a boner. Sorry girls but you know it's true. Dan said, "She won't perform the way you want because she wants you to fuck her, like seriously dude. Believe me, some chicks crave the hot beef injection. She'd probably rather have you fuck her while she rubs it herself. Let me tell you some girls have very complex sexual needs. Jen might be one of 'em, it's very possible she hasn't figured it out for herself." He went on to tell me how some girls liked to have him on his back with her sitting on top, then she puts her fingers on the spot and slides front to back across 'em and pumps you at the same time. That's one of the most favorite ways girls like sex. He said the problem with missionary sex is it avoids their magic spot, up front under their flaps. He said tongue was the best to work it when she's on her back. I thought about asking him how many he'd had sex with but I assumed his answer would be a lie, maybe all his expert knowledge comes from watching porn.
One night while Dan and I were in our dorm room and both of us were drunk and horny something happened between us. Let's say our drunken conversation started as innocent guy talk (about the best ways to suck dick) but eventually our door got locked. Then he acted like he passed out drunk so I carefully opened his pants and took him in my mouth and stroked it until he orgasmed. Days later he admitted it was the best he'd ever had. The next day we acted like nothing happened but we finally discussed it again weeks later and he said he wasn't gay or interested in guys, I admitted (to him) I felt sexual desires for anyone I loved but preferred girls too, and he said he didn't care about other people's desires. I took that to mean he didn't wish to hear my secrets and wasn't going to talk about his either.
Later that school year we wanked regularly in the dorm shower but never touched each other. So it never became weird and we remained best friends. Sometimes we did it to see who came first, he usually won that too. The best part was he had no barrier between us. I often gently pulled his pointy nipples and he never stopped me. His only interest in touching me was in innocent wrestling on the grass somewhere, just to prove he was stronger. By the time we graduated from UTA we'd seen each other naked hundreds and hundreds of times and wanked and orgasmed in the showers at the same time dozens of times. To Dan wanking in the shower was part of daily body maintenance, like shampooing your hair. He'd stand there under the hot water and face me and wank until he spurt semen on the shower floor, then re-soaped his dick, rinsed and shut off the water.
After four stressful and expensive years we graduated with our bachelor's degrees (age 22), him in Psychology and me in Math. We continued on in college but moved off-campus into a shared one-bedroom apartment. We put two twin mattresses on the bedroom floor and fabricated a barrier across the middle of the room. Two years later we both graduated with our Master's degrees (at age 26) and were recruited immediately. I went to work for the Houston Metro Police Department as a crime scene evidence technician, he went to work for the same company where his father worked but also applied for a special police investigation unit in a suburb of Houston. That unit specialized in behavioral sciences along with scientific crime scene analysis for major crimes. He was learning how to create psychological profiles. I purchased the entire TV series Dexter on DVD, it became my most fav TV show of all time.
I kept taking classes part time and eventually got a Master's degree in Math; he did the same and got his second bachelor's in Computer Science. Over time we both developed a great interest in solving cold cases. We graduated again just before our 30th birthdays.
Contact the author: borischenaz mailfence
If you like this book you may like my other stories on Nifty like Response Team (Sept 2, 2022) and Crossing Panama.(Jan 1, 2022) both in: gay/adult friends.