Disclaimer: This is a FICTIONAL story describing the love triangle of a teenage boy. If you are not over 18 years of age, or if you find this type of story offensive, or viewing this material is illegal where you are, then refrain from reading it. The story consists of lust, passion, teenage romance, interracial, love and all the rest of the good stuff in that order... Prepare for sin
CHAPTER 1
It was always so alone in Bushwick. It was a city where anything could happen and sometimes mostly anything did happen. I woke up one day in Bushwick to find myself without a mother and a father. I remember that day like it was yesterday.
It was yesterday.
They had called. They said that my mother and father had died in a car crash. They called me to go identify the body of my parents. I wasn't even 18 really. I'm still 17. I had been waiting eagerly for that birthday and for that freedom that so many young children wish for. I wanted to be away from my parents, but now I had been away from them . . . permanently.
It wasn't really a sad affair, it was sort of a shocking affair. I didn't remember much about what happened after yesterday. All I remember is sitting home today and having to lock myself in the room because all of the family that had come to mourn and talk my brains out. I hated the talk. I hated the sadness and I hated to feel so confused. Most of all I hate having to start off this story in tragedy. I am not a very tragic person. I don't have the emotions that other people have. I think that is one of the reasons that I locked myself in the room. The people outside would be expecting me to feel sadness and it was a feeling that I just couldn't deliver.
I stared at the wall because of the sudden knock on the door.
"Syn, you in there?"
That was my name. Syn. I had always hated my parents for naming me that. Who names their only child "Syn". I used to remember sitting in class and hearing the teacher call out names. When she reached my name, a little smirk would roll over her ugly face. She would say my name "Syn Clinton" and then follow up with a short, mocking "Syn." I knew it amused her. I knew she would go home and tell all her friends and family that there is a boy in her class whose name is Syn. Probably exchange some "what was his parents thinking" and "what kind of name is sin" in between it.
Fuck em. Bastards. They don't know shit about me...right?
Well, I don't know if I live up to my name. Sometimes, I have these thoughts. I didn't want to sound like that lil obsessive, delinquent kid from "Catcher in the Rye" or anything, but I found a problem in almost everyone. I had to admit it. I wasn't a very 'people' person.
"What is it?" I asked, trying to as nice as I could possibly muster, stating that some of the people that came to visit me would also be some of the people that would help me financially.
"Its Ms. Nicole."
I lazily went to open the door. Not this bitch again. She was supposedly my godmother. She was one of the most annoying people my mother ever became friends with. They had told me that I would be going to live with her and her family near downtown Bushwick, after the funeral procession. I never met her family, but I was sure, if they were anywhere as annoying as her, it wouldn't work out. She walked in and began to preach almost half the bible to me. She preached for an 47.5 minutes...I knew this because I counted the time. I heard parts of whatever she said, but not enough to get the point. I just looked at her with the most bored look on my face, but did she get it? No...She just kept bullshiting on about how the death of my parents was god's will.
She left after the 47.5 minutes and went back out. For the next couple of hours, the people in the living room came in my bedroom and counseled me. I had never been so bored in my life. I had never felt the urge to bang my head against the dresser as much as I did now. After the next hour, I had completely stopped listening to people. All I heard was "bye". This one guy (I have no idea who he was) was saying something to me in the room when I just turned and looked out the window. The street was dark, but this one street light was outside. It shined out and made the street seem to glitter almost to bring these shadows or what not. Well...at first I thought they were goddam shadows, until I saw this figure. It was a guy and I could tell because of the lean in his walk. The guy was hooded up, almost like it was raining outside. I stared, almost entertained by how hard he bounced in his walk like he was about to break out into breakdancing or something. I started to smile and then I caught his eye. I recognized them immediately. He smiled back when I saw him. He made this jerking action, which meant to come outside.
"Syn...Syn...are you listening?"
I had just realized that the man had been calling me. I jumped up from off my bed and said something to the guy. I wasn't sure exactly what I said... it was probably a "I'll be right back" or "I'll have to go". It didn't matter. I had never been so bored with someone in my life. No matter, what I had to get out of that house. I walked into the living room, trying to sneak past a crowd of sad people, crying their eyes out and thinking about memories. The thought had come to me to tell these people all of the mean, selfish gossip my parents had spread about them in the past...but I didn't feel like it was worth it. These idiots would be gone back to their homes soon enough and I would be free.
I managed to sneak out and go into the streets to meet the cool 'break-walking' cat. He had always been so cool to me, so relaxed. When I walked closer to him, he took my hand and pulled me away from all the street lights. He always did that. He would always then take off his hood and stare at me. He was a sexy guy. He had as dark as I was. He had the trademark African American hair with the waves inside and everything. His hero was Omarrion, the singer of some dumb ass boy band. Some dumb bitch somewhere told him he looked like Omarrion and he got carried away. He began to push his image to be just like Omarrion's image a little far...but sort of worked. He was one of the people that all the loose girls would follow around in school or what not. He had this raw sexuality to him that made people feel safe. He bit his lip a lot too. Don't get me wrong, I wasn't in love with this cat. See me and him, we are best friends. I mean, we will always be best friends. We are...friends with benefits. Him and I had always been like this from as long as we can remember. From little kids I remember we would sneak into the bathroom and jerk each other off just for the thrill of it. He had grown since little kids though. We never really did much as far as sex was concern. The furthest we went was kissing, jerking each other off and letting out hands play in other places...
"Tommy boy," I said. Tommy was his name, but mostly all his close friends called him Tommy-boy.
He gave me his signature smile and then leaned in to kiss me. At first I didn't want to kiss him cause I thought it would mean we were getting a little more serious in whatever... "thing" we had going on. It had happened a month ago. We were on my father's bed, watching his father's porn. I was jerking him off and he was jerking me. Right after he orgasmed, he leaned in and kissed me. It was weird because T-Boy had this thing about him. He messed around with me, but he never saw himself as gay, bi or even curious. At first I thought it was just denial, but then I realized that when he was around his 1001 girlfriends, he was also very homophobic. Unless we were about to touch each other or he wanted to, we "NEVER" talked about the playful, borderline gay shit we did behind closed doors.
"You was bored in there?" he asked, licking his lips.
"You have no idea."
I licked my lips too. I mean, he was the best kisser that I'd known. We are yet to tongue kiss or anything, but he tried a couple of times. You might think that the shit we do is mad innocent, but then again...T-boy was a straight boy. I mean, as far as me, I guess I was curious. The relationship we had was so very complex that it would be hard to explain it. T-boy leaned in again and kissed me, this time pressing his lips harder against mine. I could never get used to it. I was so afraid to get attached to this kat, because I knew that he was straight. He was hard to read, but I figured he didn't want a boyfriend or anything of the type. I figured T-boy only wanted to bust a nut at times and to have someone do it for him, when he wanted it done. That was where the kissing thing came into play. To me, kissing was an actual passionate and sincere sign. Kissing wasn't sex. I didn't see why he wanted to kiss me. I figured maybe he was getting me confused with his girls since we'd been busting nuts together for so long.
"Yo, you want me help you release that tension?" he asked quietly.
He had reached down and grabbed the piece of my sweat pants where my dick. He was very sexual once it was only the two of us in a room. I moaned loudly as he did it. He began to move his hand around and stared dead in my eyes. It was almost like he was trying to challenge me not to squirm and moan at him. He enjoyed to see me in pleasure...I could tell. I mean, his eyes got real narrow like he was concentrating on what he was doing. He leaned his hands inside of my pants and began to rub his skin against the warm shaft of my dick. He didn't stroke it . . . at least not yet.
He leaned forward and kissed me again. It seemed like he kissed me more and more often lately. We were in the complete shadow of the dark street now. Soft "Syns" were coming out as his mouth as he leaned into me. Our foreheads touched and we looked down towards my dick. He tugged at it, slow at first but then increasingly faster, harder strokes.
I was compelled to reach out and unbuckle his jeans. The dick popped out and was already erect. His dick was one of those that curved upward. He used to make these little jokes about how good it would feel in my ass, but then T-boy was the type to make jokes. He made a lot of sexual jokes, even with the teachers in the school that we went to.
"Damn, I don't gotta tell you how good that feels," he told me as we both stared down at jerking one another's dick.
Naw, he didn't have to tell me. It was so clear. I was feeling the same exact feeling. The tugs and pulls against my member. He began to look at me with this more intense look. I liked the look. It was so sensual. As we pulled back and forth, we both began to realize that we were getting real close to cumming. I clutched his dick and squeezed it a little. He didn't have a lot of hair around his dick, but I used my pinky finger to run through the little that he did have. I reached for his balls. His ballsack was a lot bigger then most I had seen in porns or what not. It hung down low and it was easy to cup in my hands. They were soft. Every time I touched his balls he made this noise. It was like a squirming noise, but not exactly.
"You got the best looking balls..."
"You got the best looking face." His comeback felt so strong that I sort of blushed. I mean, it wouldn't have meant so much if he hadn't been staring in my eyes for the longest time now. I had been staring down at our dicks, but I knew he was staring at me. His sexy eyes burned in my forehead. Of course . . . I had known he was just joking. He always joked around . . . always . . .
I could feel him coming closer.
It was sudden what happened next. He leaned forward and kissed me. This time, I could feel his tongue. My mouth had been wide open...probably from the heavy breathing and moaning that I was carrying on. I was so close to an cumming. The kiss turned things off. I mean...why did he have to do some shit like that? His tongue in my mouth completely stopped our jerking motions. We stopped jerking one another off. I stopped jerking him off because of shock and he stopped jerking me off so that he can use his hands to pull my face closer to his. His wet tongue curled around my mouth. He rolled it into the back of my tongue and softly slid it back and forth like he was trying to fuck my mouth. His two hands were clutched on the side of my face like he was trying to squeeze my cheeks together or something.
I breathed heavily, stopping him.
"I think I'm falling in love with you," I said, pulling away.
I didn't look at his face. I didn't know how he would respond. I didn't know why I had said it. I mean, I wondered whether it was really the kiss or maybe some hidden emotion from my parents dying. He was suddenly very silent. I looked up at him. He looked back at me. I wanted to say something. I wanted to take back what I said. I couldn't do anything now though. A look of fear rose up on his face. He was still holding my cheeks and his dick was still hanging out and still so erect that it was sticking me in my stomach.
"Naw, yo," he suddenly said, dropping his hands off my cheek and violently stuffing his hard dick in his jeans, "I ain't on that shit . . . I thought I told you. I knew I should of stopped doing this . . ."
"Tommy. . . I. . . ." I remember reaching out for him, trying to calm him down.
"Get off me . . ."
The words echoed in my ears.
Get off me... Get off me...
I had heard him say it before. He had said it to the girls he broke up with. T-boy was known as the "get off me" kid. He used that line to break so many hearts. After he broke up with them, he would never talk to them again. It was almost like he was emotionally lynching them. He found it funny though. He would call me up and tell me about it.
As T-Boy turned away and walked down the street, his hands stuffed in his pockets, I wondered if I was losing a friend. I didn't know why I said those words. Love was something that I didn't understand. I had no fucking idea what it was. All I knew was that at that moment, the tongue kiss felt as though T-Boy was really admitting himself to me. I mean, the tongue kiss felt so good that I was still feeling it after T-Boy had disappeared down the block. I knew it was going to be crazy from then on. I had managed to keep our relationship completely emotion free during this entire time, but now I had broken m own rule. I was sure it had something to do with my parents. They probably cursed me for not crying when I found out they were dead or something.
The week had gone by so fast. I was sort of happy cause I didn't have to go to school. I knew the house that my parents had was being given to my father's greedy ass brother until I turned 18 though. It sucked because he swore he didn't want me to live there because I might not get the 'attention' that I deserved. Instead, the plan was that over the weekend I would go live in downtown Bushwick with fucking Ms. Nicole. My uncle didn't care that I hardly knew who the fuck she was and that before my parents died I had only seen her once before. I was packing that entire week, knowing that I was going to live in the house of a complete stranger, who had no relationship to me at all. I kept thinking about movies like Cinderella or Flowers in the Attic. I mean, I really just didn't trust anyone like that. The situation with T-Boy was really getting me pissed. He was the only person that I had even relatively cared about. That wasn't saying much either because at times I hated T-Boy. T-Boy was so deep in the closet that he told his friends that I was his cousin, which would explain why we were together almost 24/7 like we were some couple or whatever. T-Boy also never let me meet his family. He said that his mother was a real bitch and that his brothers weren't 'real' like me, so they wouldn't understand our close friendship. I regarded all this as bullshit. He was just afraid that people would suspect us of being a gay. I mean, neither T-Boy or I had gay tendencies really, but when we were together, we were REALLY together. The fact that T-Boy didn't want me to know his family, just proved that he was a fucking asshole. I wondered how long it would take me to get over him . . . Ms. Nicole finally came to take me away. This time I was paying quite a lot of attention to her. I didn't trust her at all. She had the cheesiest ass smile on her face like she was on some fucking Mother Theresa tour. Her sweetness was making me sick actually. She had this short, very boyish hair cut but wore a motherly Martha Stewart dress with it. She smacked her lips intently at almost everything. It was almost like she was dramatizing her speech. My greedy ass uncle was also a pervert. They flirted completely the entire time that she had come to pick me up. They were both married too, I believe. I had the lone task to pack all my shit in the car. She had a hummer. I wondered how the hell a total retarded looking chick like her could afford a hummer. I wondered it the entire time I was packing and even when I was done packing, I just stared at her wondering how the hell such a dumb looking lady could have so much money. I mean . . . she lived downtown. Those houses are expensive. They were still flirting back and forth when I interrupted. "Um . . . I don't mean to be rude," I said, lying, because I meant to be very rude, "but I'm really kind of sleepy and the mental state that I'm in right now . . ." I stopped and paused. Being dramatic as though I was thinking about my parents death. I knew it would get a chick like Ms. Nicole. The dumb ass lady turned around and came close. "Aw poor boy," she said and hugged me, "Lets get you to the house and find you something to eat." I gave her a half smile when she let go of me. She waved goodbye to my greedy ass, perverted ass uncle and we made our way in the car. She gave me a look and when I looked back she smiled. "What radio station do you like?" she said, probably shaken by the awkward stares back and forth. "None. I'd prefer silence if it was ok with you." She let out this little sad sigh like you would do for a dog that got hit by a car. I tried to fight the urge for laughing. She was just so corny. I looked around the car. It smelled of straight lemons and peaches. What kind of hummer smells like lemons and peaches? It was fucking ridiculous. "You know, me and your mother were really good friends," Ms. Nicole started to say, "We actually went to college together. She was always the popular girl. All the boys liked her." Why would I care about that... "Oh really," I said. I smiled, like I was actually interested. As soon as I hit 18, I wouldn't have to see this bitch anymore. "Yeah you know, I figure God does everything for a reason," Ms. Nicole said, "I actually have 2 boys around your age. I bet you'll get along well with them and hopefully they'll help you get over your great loss." Good. Fresh meat. I kept thinking that hopefully one of them was cute and hopefully one of them was willing to jerk me off every night and sometimes afternoons like T-Boy. That was bullshit. As we drove downtown, I began to realize that it was actually close to my high school. The crack addicts, the noisy businessmen and the rude cabdrivers all seemed so familiar. I figured it wouldn't be that bad living around here. I guess I would know a couple of people that lived near Ms. Nicole. I figured the only bad part about living with Ms. Nicole with be Ms. Nicole. We began to roll up to this brownstone house. It was real nice looking from the outside. As we went, I recognized this boy sitting on the stairs. He seemed to be waiting. We drove closer to the house and as I came out, he gave me this smile. The boy was sexy! He was my height with a cute ass face. It was a real personal face. Almost like he had to be 'your type' for you to be really attracted to him. He was real sexy to me though. The thing that got me was his skin color. His skin was smooth and had a rich copper tone to it. He sort of looked like Ms. Nicole, but not really. I really had to stress to see the resemblance. The boy actually walked up to the door and opened it for me to get out. I "That's my younger son, Sampson. Sampson, this is Syn," Ms. Nicole introduced us, "Sampson why don't you help Syn out with his bags and I'll go in the house and make us something to eat." Sampson smiled again. He reached out his hand and shook mine, "Hey, what's up. My mother is real blunt. What was your name again . . . I didn't quite catch it." I knew he fucking caught it. I was used to people acting like they didn't hear what my fucking name was. I think they just wanted to make sure. I knew this guy was probably thinking, "His name couldn't possibly be Syn." "My name's Syn." "Oh, nice name. I like it." My mouth dropped open. Either this guy didn't hear the name right or he was the only understanding person left on the world. He gave me a smile again and all of a sudden I forgot T-Boy. He rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, exposing his biceps as he helped me take my bags out the car. He just looked like one of those people that were It was silent for a while where we were just catching one another unload bags. The way he moved reminded me of how T-Boy moved. Matter of fact T-Boy and Sampson had the same kind of body. Their biceps looked similar and they were almost the exact same build. It was almost freaky. I figured maybe I hadn't forgotten T-boy that much. The two people were so similar in my mind and yet so distance. Once again, I tried to shake off T-Boy from my mind and found myself actually shaking my head. The boy Sampson laughed, "You ok?" I nodded. We were in the middle of the street taking the bags and it seemed like we were going way too slow or at least he was. He seemed to be just as helpful as his mother, but I guess I wasn't as annoyed because he was A LOT better to look at. He didn't have a belt on and his hand the tendency to fall right under his ass. His boxers were tight and I could see the nice shape of his ass through them. I found myself dazed for a moment. I was staring and didn't even notice it. "Is it a girl?" he asked. I stopped looking at him. I felt like fucking shit. He caught staring. I knew he saw me staring because he sort of pulled up his pants and had this sort of suspicious look on his face. I had made it so fucking blatantly clear that I was staring! "Ugh . . ." I paused for a moment. I held the 'ugh' for so long that he suddenly laughed. I sighed relief, figuring he found it kind of funny, probably like he could relate. "I'm sorry," he said, suddenly stopping his laugh as if embarrased that I didn't laugh as well, "I was out of place. You are probably having problems with your parents death. Or maybe it is relationship. Maybe its moving away from a girl. Maybe it's a boy for that matter. Maybe the problem is moving here." "What?" Did he just say . . . maybe it's a boy? "Listen, whatever it is . . . I'll be here to talk if you want," he said, real refreshingly and sincerely while he reached and put his hand on my shoulder. I didn't know what the fuck was happening to me. Usually I would have just cursed someone out for even hinting that I had some kind of depression or mental stress. However, the way he said it made it sound so nice. It wasn't that he was nice. I guess it was the fact that he was nice, cute and reminded me of T-Boy a little. All of these things was the reason that I just smiled back at him. "So, what school do you go to?" Sampson asked. "Montclair, its off Houston. "I know it. My brother actually goes there. I go to St. Peter's School down the block from there." Wow. I kept trying to think which of his truths was worse. I was going to be living with someone that went to my boring, wack ass school or that Sampson was one of the uppity ass St. Peter's kids who always thought they knew better then the Montclair kids. Sampson didn't seem like that though. He seemed genuine, bu then my instincts never got me very far in life. Sampson chose to pick up the heavy bags and who was I to stop him? We went up to the house and I noticed exactly how big it was. A soft, short ring came when Sampson opened the door and we began to bring the bags in the house. It was nice inside the house. It had marble floors and a lemony smell just like I figured from Ms. Nicole's car. I didn't know which was better to look at, the house or Sampson. I realized that I wasn't the only one who was looking at the other. He seemed to stare a lot too. His stare wasn't pure lust and awe like mine, but it was a sort of stare someone would give a cat they found on the street. He was just so nice, that I couldn't figure if he was flirting with me or if he was just that nice to everyone. "Your room is going to be this way." He led me upstairs in this long hallway. He pointed out his brother's room and then said that his mother's room was around the corner. All the way at the end of the long hallway there were two doors adjacent. He said almost proudly that his room was the one across from mine and then opened the door to my room. My room was plain. The floor was carpeted but with office carpet. There was a full size bed against the wall and the rest of the room was just space. It was almost like too much empty space. I put the bags around and turned. Sampson looked back at me. He smiled with that same 'GOOD BOY' smile that he had before. "We're going to have a good time," Sampson said and then added, "I mean, my brother's cool, but you seem cooler. Plus he's hardly home, always out visiting his girl. He has like so many and breaks up so easily. You don't seem like that, you seem like you know exactly what you want . . ." I wondered what he meant, but didn't get the chance to ask him. His mother was calling downstairs that dinner was ready. We went down the stairs. All the while, he kept telling me about how fun its he was gonna make it for me and that there was really a lot more stuff to do then it seemed. I didn't doubt that I was going to have fun, I doubted that they were going to like me when I had my fun. I wasn't mean, but most of the times, my fun was on the expense of another. The way that Sampson kept saying "fun" was strange. It was almost like he figured that all I wanted to do was have fun. That was true, but it was just weird coming from Sampson because he seemed like he was trying way too hard to push the issue. As we went into the dining room he was telling me, "You would probably get along with my brother too. I mean, when he is around, he is a lot of fun. Here he is now . . ." "Tommy-boy . . ." This time, both of our mouths dropped open. Tommy-boy looked back at me, then at his brother and then at me again.