Little Bud

Little Bud. April 15, 2004 A. Cheshire Catt Email comments to: kierkegaard_is_cool@hotmail.com

My parents went away that weekend. There was no way they'd be back and no one was worried about me. I was staying with my brother. My brother was about three years older than I was, and that meant that he was nineteen. Being in Canada, that meant he could buy booze. As fast as the word went around that my parents were gone there was speculation of a party in their absence.

Basically, secretly, obviously, and vicariously, we, the boys of the neighborhood lived for the moment they'd be gone. My brother was so cool. I wished I could have been as cool as he was. His friends were the pot-smoking, beer-drinking, lady-fucking menaces that leave a legendary shadow over the school for a year or so before it fades in someone else's. Technically they were all out of school by now, they were old enough to be considered graduates, though truth be told a good lot of them hadn't graduated. One can't be a legendary cool kid and an astonishing academic at the same time, it's just not plausible. Unfortunately, I was a bit on the geeky side, being in grade eleven and working on my grades so as to make it into a reasonable university, I spent all my times rubbing my nose up the crack of a book more than anything.

I may have been an amateur in the realm of the literati, but I was always looking up from my Wilde and my Proust to see the cool boys out there living in their little societies and taunting girls with a code of ethics beyond the grasp of most adults. I was torn by my desire at this time in my life between being smart and being cool.

With my parents out of town, I decided it would be a stellar opportunity to abandon my shell and be as cool as any of the guys. I just wanted to be cool, basically, that's all it comes down to.

That Thursday the stocking up began. I gave my brother some money to get me some beer and he agreed. He even got me my very own pack of cigarettes. I'll never forget it. He was so nice to me. He was also excited. My brother's name is Rob. He's a skater kid sort of. He wears his hat askew, long sleeves under the tee-shirt, and jeans so baggy his boxers show. This may seem stylish, and it really does make him look super hot, but to be honest, all his friends wore the same thing.

I just wore simple jeans and sweaters, I didn't care what I looked like. I was still sixteen. Sure, that may seem like the right time to start caring about what you wear, but, well, this was right before I started to care about anything like that. Surely you can understand that by being a geeky kid, always in the books and never at the parties, I was willing to accept my role as the one that never gets invited. I was horny though. Even though I didn't seem like the sort of kid that was at all aware of the power of sex, it's undeniable I was a fiend when it came to jerking off. At night, in the morning, in the afternoon, after supper, in the middle of the night, and at school in the washrooms, I jerked off about everyone around me, especially those linked to my brother's life. I even did it a few times in the locker room in the gym while the football team was practicing and I could smell the men's day-old clothes and rub their boxers in my face (but that's just a secret between you and me).

Finally the night came. Mom and Dad left as soon as they got home from work around five. They probably knew there was going to be a party. Well, they were sure. They hid some of their possessions in case they were broken or stolen. My brother wasn't there when they left, he'd told me he'd bring everyone by later on. It was Friday, school had ended, it was Spring, the air was fresh and smelled good. Proust would have loved it. I sat around and had a couple of beers and tried smoking one of the cigarettes. I was a natural.

By the time they got there I was spinning on the couch. A couple of beers and a couple of cigarettes and I was more intoxicated than I'd ever been before. I felt a little ill.

More and more people came. It was crazy. All these faces from high school poured through the door. Suddenly I, the nerd, found myself surrounded by the elite of the too-cool-for-school, and I loved it. They joked about how drunk I was, but I was handling it all very well. I started to meet some people, and the mingling was going on in just such a fashion that Wilde would have been proud. I felt so alive. I'm sure I even said that a few times.

As the night wore on everything went well but soon people started leaving. Some guys went with girls, some went home alone, some went home because their parents told them to get home at a certain time.

The crowd boiled down to just the guys. They started to give me shots of scotch. Let me explain though, these were the coolest of the cool. They were Brian Henderson, I mean, they don't get any cooler than him. He had him box of weed with him that he'd dispense joints from like a candy machine. A few would step outside every once in a while to savor that smoke and then rejoin the giggling inside. There was Steven Webster, a football player/drunk, who'd make all these weird sex jokes that made people blush and squirm and call him a jack ass and stuff. He was actually really funny, just awkward. Kyle Roy, who was sitting beside me, was all about the music. He was a bit of an amateur disc-jockey, and he kept asking me to go find something for them to listen to because he was getting bored of the "shit" that was playing, even though he'd just approved of it two minutes before. There were others, but eventually even the others left and I was left with those three.

Brian was blonde with blue eyes. He was really well-built, with massive shoulders that rolled under his blue sweater in such a tanned and sculpted way that it seem as though he'd stepped down from a pedestal in a Greek forum to join us at that table. He kept running his fingers through his hair and laughing. I would stare at him for a moment and then he'd see me, smile nicely, then turn to catch the punchline of some joke I had missed entirely. And it was probably one of Steven's jokes. Steven had really curly brown hair, long and bouncy. Every once in a while he pulled the elastic off his wrist and tie his hair back, and he'd expose the shape of his face: strong jaw, darkened with a beard growing, needing to be shaved, and a smile as broad and white as a dreamy cover boy from one of those glossy exercise magazines. Kyle was a lanky character, fidgeting in his seat constantly. He had short dark hair and dark skin, he was probably from Montreal and had Jewish roots, but his father was more or less local, everyone knew him. Obviously he'd gotten his mother's good looks. He kept looking at me strangely and not saying much, and Steven would say he was getting into one of his drunk moods, and Brian would say the they were lucky I was there, but I had no idea what all that meant, I'd thought they just meant because I was the only one who lived in that house that was still there.

My brother had fucked off with some chick that was trying out for cheerleader. She was a year younger than me, and now that she was getting nailed by my brother, and knew it was my brother, already my social status had climbed a notch.

When they kept looking at the stuff in the house and growing really quiet I started to get mad that my brother had just left the party he'd started. I yawned, and realized how drunk I was and how much I wished these guys would just leave so I could go to bed.

"Tired bud?"

"Yah, I think so."

Brian then said, "Why don't we all go out and smoke one more big spliff and see what happens, I'm sure we'll go home." We all agreed. As he started to roll it he did the talking. "Are you mad your brother left?" He was really calm about it, he didn't seem as drunk as the other two, and I would learn that he was just stoned, not drunk at all really, and there's such a convenient difference. I told him I was kind of pissed about it for sure. "You know where he is, right? He's buried in the cunt of that little bitch that came in here wearing the black skirt and the tight little number of a shirt." They all rolled their eyes and told him to shut up, that they were horny enough without remember what she'd looked like. "Have you fucked anyone yet little bud? No? Too bad, don't worry, you'll get some action before you know it. Us? Hehe, you bet. Not as often as we'd like. We're not quite the john your brother is, but we get what we want. Don't we boys?" They all agreed with sinister grins and chilling chuckles. They looked down the table at me. I felt the spotlight lower on me and I couldn't help but be blasted with inhibitions suddenly. The boner in my pants made me very nervous. "What's wrong little bud, nervous or something? Cat got your tongue?" He shook the joint while holding one end then twisted it off and declared it ready. It was time then to step outside.

The fresh air felt amazing. I sat on the step and was about light the cigarette when Brian told me to have some of his joint first. The three of them, though thoroughly intimidating, were actually really nice to me. They weren't really trying to mean, I was just getting so nervous, or self-conscious that I felt like everything they were doing was an attack. At school I was so used to being ridiculed for being a geek and called a fag for not caring about what I looked like, but realistically these guys were beyond the realm of school and didn't know me from anything else but Rob's little brother that it was just a learning experience adapting to being something else than others' interpretations of me.

Kyle suddenly blurted out, "Oh man, I'm so horny."

We all looked at him.

He went on, "I wish I could just blow my load and then I could handle myself."

"I know how you feel man, I'm just thinking about how lucky Rob is right now, burying his cock in that slut's mouth."

I don't why it is exactly that I said what I said next but all I know is my lips parted and syllables past between them which were undeniably laced with the sound of my voice: "A mouth's a mouth, just find someone to suck your cock."

They all looked at me.

"Little bud, you little slut, are you offering your mouth?"

Had I?

Kyle laughed, "Oh man, you should have seen the look on your face. It looked like you didn't know what to think of that."

Steven laughed a little, and grabbed his crotch as if he was aching to get something out of his pants.

The joint was passed to me. I took an adolescent puff and looked at it. I had never smoked weed before and the soft thud of the high crept up on my naivete. I took another haul and my head starting swimming. I didn't want my cigarette anymore and I tossed it. I felt tired and dizzy, almost overwhelmed with an unexpected wave of nausea.

"You alright bud," Brian said. He took a seat beside me. I was suddenly very drunk. It might not seem as though I had done much to intoxicate myself but I was starting to regret those puffs. Embarrassment made me blush, I had done so well all night to secure a role in the fickle social ladder that is everything to a nerdy high school boy, but this last incident threatened everything. Brian was saying stuff but I couldn't even be sure if I was hearing him or if he was talking to me. I just kept staring forward.

I had no control over myself. Brian said, "Come on bud, let's get you inside." It was as if he leaned through a bush of hawthorns and yelled it in my ear with only a slight whisper next to my lobe. I could feel his warm, spicy breath on my jaw. My skin cringed with delight. He pulled me up a bit and got me into the dining room just inside where we'd all been a moment before.

I heard Kyle crack a joke, "Why, are tender hands feeling a bit dry? Dude, bud, where's your mom's hand cream?"

"Bathroom," I managed to belch out. I had no idea why I was answering such a stupid question.

Brian was standing on the opposite side of the table watching the goings-on of the boys behind me, searching in a bathroom for the cream. I watched him as earnestly. I found this fuzzy, dimly lit version of him to be the vision of a god. My mind searched for something for him to be the god of. The God of Cool, the God of Lust, of Smoke, of Boys, or maybe not a god, maybe a Hercules, an Achilles, a Trojan public bath fresco model: oh my mind went murky with dirty thoughts.

He saw me looking. He smiled. "You like what you see little bud?"

"Yes."

Brian stuck his hand inside his own shirt and started to rub his hairy stomach muscles. I could see their furry softness was like the underside of a little cat. I wanted to stroke him. He unbuttoned one after the other of his fly and started to reveal his red boxers beneath. My boner, suffering the terror of the intoxicants, struggled against the weight of booze and smoke to stand tall in my crotch. It didn't seem real though, it seemed I was already dreaming. He shoved his hand in and smiled at me.

"Want to see a big boy's cock?"

"Yes please."

He lifted from the red package the uncut cock. The balls hung low and dark. He stroked the shaft only a couple of times, slowly and dryly, until it was hard in his hands. He then let it hang straight out in front of him like a compass point on a foggy trail, and it pointed his way to me. I could see, and imagine the taste of, the juicy head oozing the nectar of his man size beast.

"Have you ever sucked cock before?"

"No."

"You can suck my cock if you want, but then you have to suck theirs too."

I didn't turn my head, I just stared at his penis staring at me.

"You want to suck my cock?"

"Yes."

"What do you say?"

"Yes, please."

"Yes, please, what?"

"Yes, please, may I suck your cock sir?"

He laughed, the other guys behind me, probably holding onto their jaws and cocks all at the same time, laughed too.

Suddenly I was at their disposal.

Brian walked over and put his dick in my face. Admittedly I sobered up a bit in order to focus on the throbbing, unsheathed bulb in my face. I reached out with my tongue and licked it. Then I wrapped my lips around it, stretching my jaws to fit it in. His cock was huge compared to my young mouth but I struggled for the sake of reputation to get it in. Within in a minute I felt Brian's hands delicately embrace my head and start to my himself inside me. "Oh yah, you're a natural lil bud."

"I can't wait to get some of that," Steven said.

"Shut up, I'm first," Kyle demanded, "I brought it up."

"Shut up you two, this feels fuckin' hot!" Brian said, as he looked down on my efforts with endearment. I grabbed onto his sack with the tenderness of an infant blindly groping at the breast. I pulled on the testicles, loosening them in their package so that they may give forth their milky wonder all the more easily.

"Look at that dude, that little faggot sure knows what he's doing." Kyle said.

"Okay!" Steven boasted, "my cock's gonna have to take advantage of the warm-up Brian gave it. Let me stuff that little faggot's mouth."

Like a cat with a light shone on it in the night, at the sound of that word (faggot) I pulled off Brian's cock and practically hissed at the other two. They stood their stupidly stroking themselves anticipating my mouth's work. Brian told them to lay-off, that I was a part of the gang now, I wasn't any sort of faggot.

I smiled. Recognition was mine at last.

I told Kyle to come over. They all laughed that I was making Steven wait. Kyle's cock was nowhere near as big as Brian's was. Brian's was like a pylon, thin at the head, and wider toward the base, and perfectly symmetrical. Kyle was cut, first of all, and not really all that hard; his circumcision scars were a dark, almost chocolate color; but his hair was trim and neat and his stink was all but strong. He was a handsome man from this perspective I had of him. I suckled his soft head in my lips and he loved it immediately. He looked over at Steven and laughed at his misfortune, "It feels fantastic, better than any chick's mouth!"

"Like you'd know," Brian said.

"Shut up, let me enjoy this." He rolled his head back on his shoulders and I took advantage of this moment to, like a shift in the beat in a song at a rave, take things to a new level. I started suck harder and stroke stronger and faster and faster. I slurped and sucked and made noises. He started fucking my face and then, with only the tiniest grunt escaping his lips, he blew his hot load in my mouth. It was the first time I'd ever had hot semen in my mouth. It dribbled down my chin and his last spurt went up my nose.

"Oh cool," Steven said, "now take mine lil bud."

He shoved his cock in my face and I beheld the ungodly, inhumane creation. His cock was super long. Not very wide, but ver long. I could never have hoped to get that thing in my mouth. Easily one of those mythical ten-inch cocks that one reads about never sees. When I understood it, comprehended the magnitude of it I gasped, "It's tremendous."

He laughed, "The last chick cried when she saw it."

I started to work on it, but right from the beginning it was obvious that I was tired of sucking. "If you don't suck it I am going to have to fuck you, and this thing isn't easy going up the ass. So suck it!" I wrapped my hands around it and started to lick it and slobber all over the shaft of it. He shoved in my mouth with a sense of disappointment. "No, you fail. This cock is going up your ass kid, you can't suck good enough for me."

"Hey now Steven, he's just a kid, you'll tear something with your club," it was actually Kyle who said that. Brian was in a daze at the other end of the table. He was jerking himself quietly, drooling about a fantasy that existed somewhere between he and me.

"Fuck off Kyle, you already blew your load. I want to fuck him, no, I'm going to fuck his little ass."

"Don't do it."

I hadn't said anything. They were arguing for no reason though. I stood up and dropped my pants to the floor. Stepping out of them I spread my legs and pressed my belly against the table. I lay against the cool surface and my feet lifted off the floor.

"See, he wants it."

"Have you ever been fucked before kid?" Brian, that voice of his, so calm, asked from the other end of the table.

"No."

"It will hurt you. Are you sure you can do this?"

"Use the hand cream."

"Don't worry, we will." He looked up at Steven and with his eyes told him to be a good man about all this. I wasn't sure if it was received. I couldn't see him, I was looking at Brian and imagining it would be him.

I heard the tube of cream squirt and make a ketchup-bottle noise and then the cold sensation of being lubricated sent shivers up my spine.

"Kyle, go put some music on."

There was no response.

(Is it that I seem young, is it that I seem like I might scream or break or never be the same again? Is it that I must be given a pompous ceremony, is this what everyone goes through when they lose their virginity? Where was my brother, was he giving the cheerleader the same breaks that I was getting?)

"Kyle go put some mother-fucking music on."

"Why?"

"Just do as I say."

There was too much commotion. Suddenly I felt Steven jab against my virgin ass. Pushing like a log through a bottleneck, the object he was intending to insert in me seemed as massive as a whole new person. I closed my eyes and let him push. I broke out in a sweat and turned red in the face.

"I can't do this."

"Come on little dude, don't make me rape you."

"It hurts man," I said more to Brian than to Steven.

"Take it easy on him Steven."

At that moment I was penetrated. I moaned and felt a great pain and then all at once there was only the great presence of Steven's cock up my ass. Then he started fucking me. I couldn't stand it. I was leaking pre-cum all over the floor and tears were forming in my eyes. I thought I'd be such a man by doing this but I was turning out to be such a wimp.

"Oh little bud, you're super tight."

"He's a virgin jack-ass. You're that too."

"No I ain't," Steven said. I realized, despite my physical anguish, they were making idle chit chat, riding me and gossiping.

That's when some stupid song came on. Fleetwood Mac or something idiotic like that. It was really loud. He changed the song, it was newer, it was something like Stone Temple Pilots. It must have been the radio. Then I couldn't think anymore. All I could feel was as if I was tearing and this guy wasn't stopping. I squirmed and squinted, moaned and clawed at the table, and then suddenly started to push back against him as if making him hurt me more, begging him with the simplest of gestures to remind me how great it felt to be hurt that fantastic way he was hurting me.

"He likes it Brian, he's fucking me."

"Don't tell me tell him moron."

Brian decided to start rolling a joint, more out of habit than out of desire.

As I lost my virginity I watched a man roll a joint.

I turned my head toward the door to the living room, there was Kyle with glittery eyes, as if watching a porn movie being made. He told me with body language this was something he'd never really seen before.

"You like my cock little bud?"

With lips bit I mustered up the phonetics to mutter an affirmative response.

"I'm going to cum up your ass."

I made a similar noise.

"OH yah, all over your insides."

I looked at Brian who licked the shaft of his joint in just such a subtle way that I suddenly blew my load all over the floor without really knowing it. I gasped extra loud and Steven suddenly moaned and said he was cumming. Just then I felt my ass gulp it in.

I wanted off the table. I wanted him out of me. I wanted outside. I wanted to cover my ass, to sit down, to fart, to have a cigarette.

"Where's my cigarettes," was the first thing I said after I was deflowered.

The three guys burst out laughing and soon I chuckled and laughed too. We all headed outside for a smoke. I smoked some of this one and discovered that, though it made me high, it didn't do anything I couldn't handle. I was ready. I couldn't sit, but I was ready for the things they offered me now.

We smoked and laughed and then my brother drove in. The guys got all nervous and everything but I told them to calm down and let him do all the guessing.

He walked into the backyard, all cocky and king-shit.

"Hey boys," he said.

"Hey Rob."

"Rob."

"Rob."

"What's going on at home little bud?"

"Oh not much."

"Really?"

"Not really, your friends made your little bud into a man is all."

Silence, I took a puff of my cigarette and blew it out with grin on my face. Such glory, it's the sort of stuff all the great writers ever dreamed of.

We had to clean the cum up, and all the beer and stuff from the night before on that Saturday. Mom and Dad were coming home on Sunday but we thought that maybe an aunt or friend of the family might be sent to spy on us, just to check the place out.

I did most of the work and afterward I wanted a cigarette (the new habit was working out just well with me). I sat on the front step and read for a while. I was basically waiting for the uncertain family spy and after no one had shown up a long blue car (I've never been good at car models and makes), with tinted windows, drove up. I knew it was Brian. He unrolled his window and a cloud of smoke billowed out. "Hey man," he said, I looked over my shoulder, "fuck off. I'm talking to you. Come on, let's go for a drive."

I jumped off the front step and ran to the passenger side. It was only Brian, I opened the door and through my book on the seat. He picked it up and said, "What's a Guermantes?"

"Oh, it's the name of a famous family that the character gets to know, it's the third book of six."

"It's huge."

"It's Proust. There's nothing small about Proust."

"Just like you," he said, and drove off into the sun. Yes, I just realized that. This story ends with me riding off into the sunset with my own Prince Charming.

(Of course I returned in two hours, stoned and fucked, but that's real life not good fiction.)