In Skaters Time Chapter 25 Feedback
THE BOOK IS HERE! THE GOOK IS HERE!
Where's Paul Revere when you need him?
I now have a supply of books on hand and all ordered books are on the way to you. Watch your mail after July 1.
Amazon.com has now listed my book:
Antiques & Homicide/Homocide
By: Rick Beck
Go to Amazon.com, go to books, type in the title. It will show you the cover and how to order. For plastic users or if you are overseas, now's your chance to get my book. You can put it and my work in front of people by ordering now. You can buy Harry Pottery and Hillary's book later. They're way more expensive.
And If you really care, go to your bookstore, especially the gay friendly kind, and order there. Ask them to stock the book. This will help me reach a larger audience. Tell a friend if you can. Word of mouth goes a long way.
Thanks!
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Chapter 25 Feedback
While it wasn't easy, Paul and I refrained from sneaking around. His latest difficulties were weighing heavily on him but he still couldn't explain why he had gone off so violently because of a pair of boots. It was a question that kept coming to my mind and while my mother never got all the details, my father also questioned Paul's actions.
By Sunday he was becoming a bit more comfortable in my house, but our Monday morning date with the district attorney's office was looming and scary. At dinner on Sunday my mother outdid herself, fixing lasagna and garlic bread, which Paul inhaled like he hadn't eaten in weeks. He'd been inhaling food all weekend and if not as my lover, he had won my mother over somewhat with his compliments about the real food he was suddenly getting.
"Are you going to let your father know about this," my father tactfully said as he dished himself more lasagna.
"He's in Europe. I don't know how to contact him. My brother leaves messages he seems to get. I don't think he is able to come back even if he wanted to."
"Oh! He's a pilot?"
"Yes, a commercial pilot but he's working for a corporation. He flies the execs around the world."
"I see. I think you need an attorney," my father added, before crunching some garlic bread.
"I can handle it," Paul said firmly. "I don't want a lot of mumbo jumbo going on around me."
"Attorneys know the system and will help you."
"I don't want one. I can say what I know without someone else getting in the way of my words."
While I could tell my father didn't agree, he also didn't persist, since it was obvious Paul had made up his mind.
He lay on my bed later in the day while I did homework on my computer. He seemed right at home. My mother brought cookies and milk up and tapped on the open door before entering.
"I thought you boys would enjoy a snack," she said, an hour after dinner was done.
Of course Paul would now take anything my mother offered and the cookies started to disappear, as did the milk. My mother wasn't talking to me beyond courtesy considerations but she didn't have much trouble with Paul, which was confusing. I figured she'd hate him.
On Monday morning my father accompanied us to the Courthouse in El Cajon. We walked up the long staircase and were directed to the proper office that was handling Paul's case.
"Oh, well, glad we don't need a search party," the man behind the desk said as we entered. "On time too. I'm Harvey Hill. I'm handling this... this case. I think I have some good news for you. Please sit down. Your attorney is where?"
"I don't have an attorney," Paul said, squirming. "What's the news."
"You need attorney, son. What I have to say requires an attorney to be present. I'm a little reluctant to discuss it without your attorney present."
"I talk fine. I'm a college student, so my comprehension level is good," Paul said sarcastically. "Why don't you try it out on me and if you say anything I can't understand, I'll raise my hand."
"Yes," Mr. Hill said, shrugging uncomfortably as he looked at my father, who shook his head like he couldn't do anything about Paul.
"Well, this is unusual. You're facing assault charges, son."
"Paul... Paul Cooper, Mr. Hill," Paul said. "I know that. You had something to say." "Yes," he looked at my father again. "You need an attorney, son... Paul. It's how it's done."
"Well, if he hasn't been charged," my father said, "Why don't you just come out with it and if he needs an attorney we'll secure one for him."
"You aren't his father."
"No, I'm Z's father. He was in my custody."
"Ah yes, Z. Mr. Poor briefed me," he said, looking at the file. "I have a proposal so we can get rid of this entire mess this morning. I really am uncomfortable speaking about this without your representation being present."
"Why not go ahead," Paul said. "I can take it."
Mr. Hill looked up from the file and wasn't pleased with the unrelenting boy. He was made uncomfortable because Paul didn't seem intimidated and in fact he was a bit combative when he was being told that they couldn't simply talk.
"We've gotten some additional information. Mr. Doyle will not press charges if you don't pursue his son."
"What?" I said. "That doesn't make any sense."
"Z!" My father interrupted.
"That doesn't make any sense," Paul said, picking up where I had left off.
"Here," Mr. Hill said, sliding a picture across the desk. "You know him."
Paul's eyes narrowed in on the picture but he had a blank look on his face.
"The kid at the theater," I said, looking over his shoulder.
"Yeah, that is him," Paul said, shaking his head in confusion. "What's this about? I didn't hit him. I don't think I did anything but push him a little. What's he got to do with the kid in the boots."
"His boots," Mr. Hill advised and the picture became clearer.
"What?" Paul said, standing up, and Mr. Hill leaned back, not sure of what Paul was going to do next.
"Sit Paul," my father said, seeing Mr. Hill's alarm.
"Billy Doyle, brother to Chris Doyle, was the boy in the boots. The boy you hit. When we identified the boots as the ones used in the attack on you, Billy Doyle then becomes the number one suspect in the assault on you, giving you some leeway there in your assault on him. Billy Doyle gave us Chris Doyle, his brother, to save his own butt from being charged with assaulting you. Chris being the owner of the boots and now looking at the assault charge in turn gives us the two other boys that were with him when you were assaulted. They can be charged with the hate crime that you are pushing on us. Billy Doyle drops the charges against you and goes free, and so does his brother Chris, who isn't prosecuted in exchange for testifying against the other two boys who assaulted you.
"That's the deal. You're home free the way I see it. All you've got to do is sign on the doted line and you can walk out of here clean as a hounds tooth. Free as a bird."
"I needed an attorney for you to tell me this?" Paul snarled.
"We've got to deal with the Doyles and there are numerous charges pending in several cases. Yes, we should have legal representation looking out for your best interests. We can dispose of this today and move on to the hate crime charge."
Paul reached onto the desk for the picture and he sat down staring into it.
"I want him. He's the one that kicked me in the face if those were his boots."
"Those were his boots but I just explained to you why we can't go after him. I'm trying to keep you out of jail, Paul," Mr. Hill said in a why aren't you appreciating my efforts kind of voice.
"No you didn't. You talked me around in a circle so that I'd buy on to going after two guys I don't have a clue about. I know this guy and he's the one that kicked me in the face. I want him. I don't want two clowns he digs up to save his ass."
"Mr. Doyle will then insist you be charged with the assault of his son, Billy, the innocent third party in all this. It's their wildcard. They have you by the... they have all the cards."
"Fine!" Paul said without hesitating. "Charge me. I want Chris Doyle to pay for my face."
"We've already got the other names. We've got warrants for them," Mr. Hill complained. "We can't just stop now that Chris Doyle has given us the information."
"I don't care about them. He's the one that initiated it. He's the only one that had a reason to jump me and he was the one that kicked me in the head. I want him."
"Can't you reason with him? We spent all weekend getting this deal," Mr. Hill said to my father.
"Maybe my son can talk to him. I have no control over him. I took him on because my son... because he's my son's friend and he's recovering from a serious operation."
"I'll give you five minutes. Reason with him. If you don't go along with it, I have no alternative but to have you taken into custody for the assault on Billy Doyle. You suit yourself. I knew I shouldn't talk to you without an attorney," Hill said, gathering the file and taking the picture from Paul as he exited the room with my father behind him.
"What are you doing, Paul?"
"Looking for justice."
"He just offered you a way to get out of this and you aren't going to take it? Paul!"
"He didn't offer me anything. He offered me an easy way out for him not me. I'll take my chances in order to get the right guy. They don't care if they get the right guy or not. They want a guy so they can clear a case. That's not justice to me."
Paul wouldn't budge and a big burly cop came back with Hill and Paul was arrested. My father intervened, questioning the logic of locking him up, because of the injuries he was still healing from. Attorney Hill made a call and made arrangements to release Paul on his own recognizance.
I was waiting at the door for him when he came out and so was Mr. Poor, the DA from the weekend meeting. He shook Paul's hand and questioned his logic.
"Paul, a lot of people spent a lot of time working on this case over the weekend. One of our concerns was seeing that you weren't charged."
"I thought your concern would be justice. The guy you're letting get away is the guy that needs locking up."
"So you intend to continue with this? I can still make this deal and get your record cleared before it's too late. You need to give this some thought."
"I'm not worried about that. I want the guy off the streets before he hurts someone else. You should want that."
"I do, Paul, but some time you've got to make the deal and get the best offer you can in order that other people aren't hurt."
"I've already been hurt. Hurt a lot more than this will hurt me."
"It'll stay on your record," Poor said.
"I have no apologies. I was the one who was stomped, remember? Maybe I was off base going after that kid. I don't know. I went off. I really didn't give it a lot of thought once I saw those boots again. Regardless of that, you know the real bad guy here, and you're willing to let him go for two punks he wants to trade. I don't call that justice. In fact I call it fraud. You aren't giving me justice. You are giving me bullshit."
"Paul, you don't understand how the legal system works. I don't want to see you hurt. You're a good kid. You've suffered serious injuries but you were wrong jumping Billy Doyle. You should have gone to the police. We got the best deal we could once you made getting Chris Doyle impossible."
"What about now?"
"What do you mean?"
"I'm on the hook for the assault. That means there is no deal. Get Chris Doyle off the street."
"We can't. He's part of a deal we tried to make. All the information we got is related to that deal. We can't use it against him in court."
"There's something wrong with your legal system, Mr. Poor. Billy Doyle gave you Chris to save his butt. His father wants to give up punks to save Chris. I didn't go for it. Why not go to the punks and turn them on Chris so they're off the hook and he's back on. That's what I'd do but I know I'm just a stupid college kid and I don't know anything about attorneys and the legal system, but I'd call that Justice and I bet those two punks will turn on a dime if you threaten them with time. They don't know you can't arrest them but they do know they were in on the crime and that should be enough to get them to give you Chris. You didn't make a deal not to talk to them now that you know who they are?"
"No, technically I can talk to them but I can't charge them because the information came out while we were making a pleas arrangement."
Mr. Poor wasn't real happy with Paul's attitude and he could get in line with Mr. Hill who was equally put off by Paul's unwillingness to compromise. I wasn't sure what I was. I liked what Paul said because it wasn't just about him and he was willing to go to jail for what he believed. I didn't want him to go to jail and I didn't think getting Chris Doyle was worth losing Paul.
School sucked because all I could think about was Paul. He met me when I got out and we took the trolley into San Diego and roamed around the Harbor until it was time for me to get home for dinner. He went home and for the time being all the legal mumbo jumbo was a distant memory.
When I called him on the phone after dinner, he wanted to talk and we did talk for hours. Once again there was talk of me moving in with him in his grandparents house. Then there was talk of me coming over after school the next day. We hadn't done much of anything since he was hurt and we both had it on our mind, only there was something else on my mind once I got to Paul's.
Seated in the Jacuzzi on the back porch was Dart. His arms were stretched over the top as he leaned back as the bubbles bubbled around him.
"Hey, Z, long time no see," he said, giving me a tight little smile as his eyes stayed on me.
"Hi, what are you doing here?" I asked, seeing no sign of Paul and knowing he couldn't go in the pool with his bandage.
"Just visiting Kenny and Donny."
"Donny? You know Donny?"
"Someone call my name," Donny said, coming out of the kitchen with a glass full of ice and soda he handed to Z.
"Just asking Dart about being here," I said.
"Oh, I asked. Kenny said it was okay. He's hot for Dart too."
"Z use to be hot for it," Dart said, glancing at me as Donny walked around and started into the pool. "Come sit on my lap some more. It's still hard for you."
Donny smiled from ear to ear and headed straight to Dart, turning to sit on his lap. I watched him reach into the water under him as Dart leaned back.
"Ouch," Donny said. "It keeps getting bigger."
"You'll adjust little stuff," Dart said.
"You said that yesterday and my hole is still sore. Take it a little easy, okay."
I left the two love birds and found Paul standing at the kitchen window watching.
"What's he doing here?" I asked after closing the door.
"Ask Kenny. He told Donny to invite him over." "How does he know, Donny?"
"Through Kenny. He introduced them last week. Dart likes the young ones and Kenny still wants to make it with Dart."
"You don't?" I asked.
"Only young ones named, Z."
He kissed me after calling me over to the window. We watched as Dart leaned Donny over the edge of the Jacuzzi and started fucking him in long strokes. He had lost none of his ardor and was going at the little boy's ass at a very good clip. Donny simply leaned forward on his forearms like it was no big deal for him.
"How can he take that?" I said. "Dart's big."
"No bigger an me and I use to do that to him. Kenny still does."
"What's the kids story?"
"He likes taking it up the ass. What can I say? He's been that way ever since I've known him."
"Come on. I can't do you but you can do me," Paul said.
"Why can't you do me?" I asked.
"Something about passive participation. I'm still pretty sore. It's just better if I don't exert myself. Makes it better for you," he said, kissing me and taking my hand to put it on the front of his poked out pants where his erection was waiting for my hungry fingers. I suddenly couldn't wait to get him into bed.
He lay on his side and guided me inside. When I reached around to grab his cock, it was thick and throbbing and the tip was already wet. He moaned softly as I moved the skin up and down over the head, pinching it gently, which made him moan softly and turn his head so we could kiss as I fucked him.
I fucked him as easily as I could, but it was hard to do it easy as hot as I got being up there. The warm moist hold he had on me didn't make it any easier either. My mind said I should be doing more like Dart was doing to Donny upstairs but my reason said that Paul was still healing and that I might hurt him if I did what I really wanted to do.
I loved the feel of him in my fist and I stroked him gently too, but he still wiggled and wriggled against my cock. After I was done, we lay facing each other and I kissed him. We cuddled for a time, until we ended up in a sixty-nine, and I got more than I bargained for, when he pumped out what he had pent up over the days we hadn't been able to get hooked up together.
I held him in my mouth until it was almost soft and then took it out to look at it and examine the way the skin covered the head. It was covered completely when he was soft and the head seemed so small but when I turned him on the head was a blown up puffed out version that I could hardly get into my mouth.
When we went back to the kitchen for something to quench our thirst, Dart was leaning against the sink with Donny kneeling in front of him trying to swallow his dick. Dart looked at us like it was no big deal and Donny didn't look at all, being dedicated to the task at hand.
"Kid's got talent," Dart said.
"Kids only fifteen," Paul said.
"Yeah, well, he said he had a good teacher," Dart retorted, locking eyes with Paul.
The slurping sound got me going again and Paul watched Donny swallow most of Dart as Dart acted as thought it was merely routine.
"Let me sit down, little stuff," Dart said, and Donny let his erection loose. "You can sit on my lap if you want."
"I want," Donny said, gleefully following Dart to a chair.
Dart was swollen even more than usual and that torpedo look was enhanced by the blunt plump head that had rejected all attempts by his foreskin to keep it contained.
When Dart sat down, Donny immediately turned around to back up onto Dart's lap. I watched as Dart held the torpedo upright until Donny could get his asshole on it. He then moved back far enough so that just the head could gain access to his bottom, at which time it did with little effort. Then, ever so slowly, he sat on it, easing his ass down on the shaft an inch at a time while he watched our amazed faces at such a small boy accommodating such a big dick.
For the first time Dart's face showed some distress and I recognized he was nearing the moment of truth if he made no effort to fight it off, which he did. After he pulled Donny all the way down on him, leaving him no wiggle room, and then he reached around Donny to grab his swollen cock. Donny's dick was a similar color to the rest of him, maybe a shade or two darker. It had gotten way wide once he had Dart up his ass and Dart held the four or five inches in his fist, squeezing and pulling it gently to get the clear fluid to leak down its sides. He massaged the liquid back into the dick, causing Donny to moan in appreciation.
Donny made no effort to escape or to lessen the amount of cock inside him, seeming almost content to wait for Dart to do whatever Dart was going to do. They sat together in the chair, smiling at us like there was some great truth revealed, but it took a few seconds for Paul and I to realize we'd both gotten hard watching the fucking Donny was taking.