Philmore High -2- Eli
Samantha Rice's party tonight would have had to been near epic to pull my mood up. Ever since last night with Brock, I was feeling, well, off.
We were woken up about eleven as Bock's Mom cooked pancakes and bacon; my favorite. My head pounded from the vodka and my shorts were a little crusty from the after sex sperm that managed to linger long after the deed was done. I managed some coffee laced with sugar and cream to was down some big assed pain killers. As my throbbing head subsided and the morning faded into clarity I was able to get more of a handle on the whole situation.
Pretty simple really. There was no situation. Brocks Mom, I called her Elizabeth even though most of the world called her Liz, chattered away at Brock. We had a full breakfast spread in front of us complete with toast and three kinds of jam and we were just hanging out, another weekend of highschool frivolity.
"Whatcha gonna spend your big cash score on bro? Some sweet ass Maui Jim's? Maybe a coupla pair of Buffalo?" Brock snapped my wandering mind back to reality.
"What money? Who is Maui Jim and what are Buffalos?" Elizabeth questioned us.
"Maui Jim's are sunglasses Elizabeth. Expensive ones." I replied taking another sip of coffee
"And Buffalos are jeans" Brock chimed in.
"And where'd you get, to quote my eloquent son, "Your big cash score?" I thought Cindy's dead beat husband was still sliming out on the child support?" Elizabeth pressed. I paused wondering how to handle it all.
Brock, that fantastic devious mind didn't falter, "Oh, his Grama, on is dead beat Dad's side, slid some money under the table at him. He's not sposed to even tell his Mom, so don't tell Cindy. It's all sposed to be on the down low." he said.
"Hey." I protested. "I am sitting right here." I threw a glare at Brock and continued, "See, my Grama felt bad that her son, aka that dead beat father of mine, aka the sperm doner, aka asshole of the year and she slid me a big wad of cash providing I didn't tell no one. I made the slip of telling Brock who now has leaked it to you. Elizabeth, you won't wreck it for me? Please? If Mom finds out, well, it could get complicated, my family politics being what the are and all" I made my eyes look like a doe and tried to look pathetic.
"Don't cuss. Don't make that pathetic face. Of course I won't say anything, but just as a word of advice, if you want to keep something secret, don't tell Brock. He's terrible at keeping them." She said. Brock winked at me with a hopelessly innocent face and it was all I could do not to laugh.
"I cussed?" I tried to sound shocked and truthfully I didn't remember saying anything too bad.
"You said "asshole" when describing your father."
"Sorry." I mumbled.
"Hey Liz. You can drive us to the mall? I am gonna get my hair done and Danny needs to revamp his look."
"I am your mother Brock Ashley McSweeney. You may only call me Mom or Mother." her rone dripping with mock hostility.
"Sure thing Mom or Mother. When can we leave Mrs. McSweeney?" Brock said with a devious smile.
"Help clean up these dishes and I can take you. Why didn't I have a daughter instead?" She replied smiling.
The mall looked pretty much like every other mall in the entire world. I loved it. Brock went off to the left for his hair dresser thing and I, along with some help from Mandy and Christy, some girls in my English class I just happened to bump into while I cruised through the food court. I bought a couple sets of seriously cool jeans, a couple of shirts that spoke of upper class snootiness and a sweet pair of shades from the Maui Jim clan. The girls bailed when their boyfriends showed up and I, dressed to kill and looking like a billion bucks, sat outside of Brock's hair place.
Brock came out of the salon, his hair, still thick moppy and unruley, but now a bright blue, I mean like a bright flame blue. His eyes sparkled more blue and he was ecstatic.
"Wow! Blue?" I managed.
"Yah. I told you last night. Weren't you listening?" He told me, his smile still beaming at the look on my face.
"Apparently not."
"Well?"
"It's blue."
"I know."
"Very blue."
"What do you think?" He asked. What did I think? He was pretty fantastic looking with jet black hair, now with jet blue hair. He looked, different. His face was brighter, still sort of hiding behind the locks and curles, but his skin seemed whiter and his eyes bluer.
"Looks good." I said. I couldn't really think of what to say, really.
"That's it?" he replied, his smile starting to fade.
"No. That's not it. It's just surprising. Your black hair was fantastic and now your blue hair is, well, different. Nice. I don't think many people could get away with blue hair, maybe seven or eight on the whole planet, but you are on that list. At the top, actually. I like it. A lot." I ceased stammering like an idiot and now I gushed like one. It lit his smile back up to a hundred percent.
"Dude. I told you last night just before we went on the porn and the jackoff session--"
"Sorry. My mind was elsewhere." I said and looked around to see if anyone might have been listening. I didn't really want anyone else to know what we'd done. I quckly changed the subject, "I think Samantha Rice's party is gonna be a bomb. You and me is gona be he only life of the party and I'm not in a big party mood. Especially if the ask me to take off my clothes. Again."
"I guess. O'course, you could always do it for em."
All my cheer drained and I was opening my mouth about to rip him another when he interupts my about-to-be-temper-tantrum, "Kidding. kidding. Dude. Just kidding." he said. I tried to laugh about the whole thing, but it seemed my mood, in spite of my super new expensive clothes, was pretty shitty.
Unfortunately, my prognostication about the party being a total bomb was right on the money. The music sucked, through a shitty sound system. The refreshments were soda and chips, the crowd was limp with boredom. No one danced.
Then they played a Justin Beiber song and I was on the way to the door, along with pretty much everyone else. Mom picked me up at the restaurant down the street and dropped Brock off before we got home.
"Those are new clothes." She said. Mom noticed evverything, I was surprised she didn't say something sooner. "Where'd you get them from?" There was an edge to her voice. She was pretending to be calm but ready to erupt.
"Value village. I borrowed twenty from Brock. I'm gonna pay him back." I lied.
"We are not a charity case, Daniel. How many times have I told you that we can make this on our own power?"
"I know Mom. It was just a loan. I said I'd pay him back."
"How? How do you think you are going to pay him back? Twenty dollars doesn't seem like much, but we are out there on the edge of poverty. The bill collectors, the lawyer's fees, everything adds up!"
"I could get a job."
"No. You know I mean no. No. You have to finish school and concentrate. Sure your grades are good, but it's because you don't have a job that makes them that way. If you get a job, your grades will fall and the schollarship goes right out the window along with your future."
"Yah, Mom. You've told me that before."
"Listen honey. Times are tough. I know it's tough without any cash to do things. But we just have to hang in there. Your father might pay us one day and that will loosen things up. When did you say you'd pay Brock back?"
"I didn't"
"He's such a good boy. Such a good friend. Well, when we get some extra cash, we'll settle accounts with him." She finished like something major had been accomplished and that evverything would turn out all just fine and good.
Fuck. My mood turned to the worst sour.
Trying to sleep when your life is shit was tough. Well, it was tough for me. I laid in the upstairs bedroom of our shitty row housing, window open a crack listening to the late night shenanigans in crackville on a Saturday night. The light beside my bed glowed red, 2:01 AM. I had tossed and turned and laid there thinking and re-thinking of all the things that could go wrong or went wrong in the last, well, my whole life.
Then there was a blood curdling scream. It wasn't very loud, but it stood the hairs up on the back of my neck. I bolted to the window to look out. Nothing but the street light and the usual empty street of nothing. I knew I'd heard something. I grabbed some pants and walked down the stars and onto the street in my barefeet, no shirt and no phone. The fall wind iced me to the bone as soon as I got out there. Down the street I could see a bunch of people gathered round something and then they scattered into the alleys around the corners and all but vanished in a the blink of an eye.
I jogged down the street, my senses on high alert. My ears told me that no one else was coming. My eyes saw shadows and movement. There was a sack or something on the street. I heard Mom calling from behind and knew she was following. The closer I got to the sack, the louder it got; sobbing. I got to the sobbing pile to find a boy, in what used to be clothes sobbing and bleeding, the street empty and quiet as it normally was.
Mom arrived a few heart beats after.
His sobbing turned to complete crying and his clothes were ripped and he was trying find the correct way to put on his boxers, but they were pretty much shredded.
"Hey. Are you okay? I'm here to help. I'm here to help." My words sounded empty, but I thoght the soothing tone might reassure the poor little guy.
"Here, wrap him up." Mom said, taking his t-shirt, torn and ruined and handing it to me.
"C'mon guy. It's okay." I helped him up and wrapped the shirt around his middle part. I wasn't wearing a shirt, damnit, so I couldn't give him mine. We took the kid and escorted him to our house, once inside we locked the door, all the while consoling him and telling him everything was okay now.
I got sent to my room to get a bath robe that I never wore. I handed it to him. Well, I had to help him put it on as his makeshift clothes fell to the floor it was plain to see there was cuts and scrapes all over his body.
He cried.
"Okay." Mom said taking her take charge voice, "We are calling the police."
"NO!" the boy said and began to scream, "NO NO NO" all the while crying and pancking.
"Okay okay." Mom said taken aback. "No. We won't call the police." He calmed down a little and tried to stuff his sobbs back in.
"Why can't we call the police?" she asked and he replied only with sobs."Okay honey. What's your name?" she asked, again sobbing was the only reply. His eyes seemed to fade in and out of sheer terror to sadness to pain.
Looking at me, Mom looked at a loss. "You try Daniel." She said. "Okay. Look little fella, you look real bad right now, -- umm okay. Let's go get you cleaned up.
I took him by the hand and he walked or hobbled up the stairs and into the bathroom following my gentl grip. I closed the door.
"Okay. I'm gonna take off this robe and see how injured you are. Okay?" I said. He just sobbed back. I pulled the robe off and took in his body with my eyes. He had some scrapes, they were red and probably hurt a lot but didn't look serious. I gently wiped them with a wash cloth. He had some bruises to his chest that were just developing, but to my inexperienced eyes, they didn't seem that bad either. I touched him gently on some of them and he barely winced. His face didn't fare quite as well. he had a black eye devleoping and very fat lip. I got the cup out and had him rinse out his mouth. The red slop that came out wasn't that bad either.
"You look like we don't gotta take you to the hospital, at least. Here little buddy, lets get you some clothes that look more like clothes." I threw the robe on him and tied the belt. His sobbing had quieted down.
"Can you at least tell me your first name?"
"Eli" he said so quiet I wasn't sure I heard him.
"Eli?" I asked. He nodded his head. In my room, I dug into my underwear drawer and rummaged I couId only find some tighty whities that were pretty small. He opened his robe then turned away from me to put them on. I smiled in spite of the whole thing. I dug out some old pjamas I had and gave them to him. The whities weren't very tightey on him and the pjs had to have the legs rolled up and the waist tied tight. I found a tee shirt that was a little better and didn't quite look like a night gown on him.
"Okay Eli. I gotta get Mom to not call the cops." I said emphasizing the 'Not,' "So you gotta help me with that.
"I'm sorry. I am just in trouble with those boys. If the cops are called, well, this could be way worse." "How could it be worse? They gave you a beating and left you naked and bleeding out in a crack neighborhood. How could it be worse?"
His somber eyes stared back at me, "It could be worse. Please don't call the cops. My Mom would be so--" He never finished. He just stared at me with the big brown eyes threatening tears again.
"Okay." I said, "Let's go negotiate with my Mom and see if we can come up with something." I lead him back down stairs, dressed better and I wasn't holding his hand anymore. His bleeding had stopped and he looked more beaten up but less beaten down if you know what I mean.
"Mom. His name is Eli. He's only got bruises and scrapes. He doesn't need a hospital or anything. The guys that beat him up, well, they can do worse. We can't call the cops." I gave the whole story up front and didn't waste time trying to butter her up.
"The police are here to protect us and they will know what to do." Mom said. For a smart lady she can be pretty thick sometimes.
"Yeh, protect, like the did tonight? Mom. Look. Our neighborhood is a crack neighborhood. You've seen them protect us. You feel very protected?"
"Okay, young man. You've got a point. But his mother will be worried sick about him."
"I will call her. I can stay the night? We don't have a car. My step dad has to work." Eli said. What could Mom say? She'd all but conceded and considering the cirumstances it was the safest way out of this mess.
"Okay. Call her and tell her your okay. We'll deal with the rest of this tomorrow. Things always look brighter in the morning anyway." and she offered Eli her phone. He dialed and talked.
"Yah Mom. Sorry I'm late calling. I'm just going to stay at a friends house. You remember Daniel Jordan? My friend from school? No? Well I'm at his house now and his Mom said it's okay if I stay. I should have called sooner, but time got away. I'm sorry Mom. Here, she wants to talk with you." He handed the phone over to Mom. I thought for sure Mom was gonna sell Eli out to his Mom but she played it cool.
"Oh no. I don't mind if Eli stays the night. He's a good boy. Him and Daniel have been friends for a long time and it's good they finally get to spend some time together." Mom said. Sheesh, she can sure lay it on thick. I thought I was bad and I thought she might go a little too far and still manage to blow it.
"Okay. He's fine and he'll be good. B'bye" She finally finished.
I woke up in the middle of the night with someones hand digging in my region. I remember through the night fuzzies that I a little whisper voice didn't want to sleep alone so I crawled up off the floor. It was a single bed, but I was so tired I just kind of flopped into the bed and died where I plopped.
Yep. The light was filtering through the window, so it was morning and someone had his hands lifting my elastic to my boxers and sliding a hand into my private area. I had to shake my head a bit to put together where I was, home, what happened last night and who was in my bed. Eli.
There was no mistaking it. I could feel his boner through my boxers pressing up the crack of my butt. He found my stick and was exploring it with a tender hand.
Shit. Again. First Brock, now Eli. I shouldn't enjoy this. I shouldn't be okay with this. I shouldn't want this. It was gay. I'm not gay. I'm just Dan. My boxers, well, I shucked them and let Eli do his thing. I couldn't help it. I was horny, he was there making everything so very good. He was too young. I didn't know him. At all.
I rolled over and looked into his big brown eyes. He said nothing but reached for my front again. I reached for my old tightee whitees and yep, he had them on, but his boner poked the front. I reached inside and his hotness surprised me. It shouldn't have, but it did. I explored him some. He had no foreskin, his head poked out naked, no sheath, nothing, just a mushroom connected to a hot shaft. He played with my foreskin, putting his finger inside and running it around the tip.
Fuck I loved this.
Then he started pumping me. I pumped him a little, but without all the extra skin, I wasn't sure how far or what. I think I might of gone a little too hard, I thought he winced a little. So he went soft on me and then pretty soon he was beating me up and down, pumping fast. I mirrored his actions.
A thought sprang from no where popping into my mind from someplace I didn't know even existed in my psyke. I wanted Eli in my mouth. Why? The reasoning or question never entered my mind. It was just an instinct, a desire. I resisted for about four or five of Eli's strokes. He started this, he must like it.
He must want it.
I let go of him and grabbed his wrist. He didn't want to let go of me. I gently pried him off my shaft and as soon as I could move I went down to his goods with my mouth and put it in. He had a little taste to him. I can't say I liked it. I found that with some saliva it washed away and I had his bald mushroom head bouncing in my mouth. He found my cock with his hand and continued stroking me.
A funny thought ran through my head. I hoped Mo didn't walk in right now. She wouldn't, but I could almost imagine her face if she found her son like this. Suddenly, with that thought nearly making me laugh, Eli's cock jumped in my mouth and that nasty salty bitter taste tanged my mouth. I spit it all out.
Eli stopped stroking me.
"Dude. You shoulda warned me." I said in near a whisper.
"Sorry." he replied.
I grabbed my gear and went to work to finished the job. I jacked while Eli watched, not moving to get dressed. He was hairless, almost pretty much though I could see a couple of sprouts coming around his whole member, like maybe five or so hair in total. His cut cock grew soft and sort of hung there, off to the side. It was thick and his mushroom head had no where to hide, it just hung out. His balls were thick and dropped and then I blew my load. I groaned and shivered as the first explosion hit, followed by a bigger second and a smaller third and a fourth. I stopped counting as they finally subsidded.
I laid there panting letting my heartbeat slow and my member soften. Eli watched and took some of my spunk and played with it with his fingers examining it closely and putting a bit in his mouth, tasting it.
I ragged off the most of the sex quickly with an old tee shirt that littered my bed room floor and as I got cold all bare in the cold morning air I found myself tucking us both back into bed.
Eli cuddled up to my back, his naked body and soft member he stuffed in between my naked cheeks. I had just blew it all, but was getting semi again. His arm wrapped around me and his hand held my semi not moving, just sort of holding me.
I couldn't believe it. I had just blew my load like huge and here I was getting hard again. I just let it ride.
"Okay, Eli. Spill. What happened last night? Really happened last night." I whispered to him over my shoulder feeling hims squirm in even closer.
His voice low, not quite a whisper, he started, "K. Here's what happened. I met a kid at school, John Jenkins, and well, we just moved here like a month ago. All my friends got left behind and so John pretended to be my friend. He seemed like a nice guy. Anyway, we went to his house after school and he asked me if I jacked off. I admited I did. He asked if I wanted to do it together. I said sure. So then we pull them down and he sees that I'm cut and I got no hair. He's got lots and he's got that skin, like you. So he shows me how it works. I want mine back. But anyway, we jacked, he jizzed and then he told me I had to go. I didn't even get to finish. He said his Mom was gonna be home or something. The next day everyone started calling me Baldy and laughing. I didn't cry, exactly. But everyone knew I got no hair. And then Kristopher Landon said the doctor cut way too much off and that's why I was so small. I kind of lost it and told him his mom was a crack whore."
"Shit." I said.
"Yah," I didn't know it was true. "So last night those guys grabbed me and beat me up, one of them was Kristopher and some really bad guys. They talked about raping me and cutting off my --" He started to sniffle a little. I had long gone soft in spite of his hand holding me. I gave his arm a squeeze.
"Dude. Your fine now. It's all good. You took your beating so Kristopher might be okay with leaving you with your balls attached. He was just pissed you said what you did."
"You think?"
"Oh yah. But you gotta keep our--" I gulped, "sex" I breathed, "quiet. I'm not good with this, I don't think. You are way too young and I'm a hetro, or was, or I don't know anymore." Now it was my turn for my eyes to tear up.
"Our secret." He squeezed me. "Don't worry. I think you are the hottest god in the fucking world. I am not much younger than you, just a year."
"But you got no hair. Hold on a second. How'd you know my last name? How'dyou know what grade I'm in?"
"I seen you at school. Your nude picture made you kind of famous."
"Ah. Right. But you got no hair?" I dug for details.
"I know. I should be hitting the growth part any day now. At least that's what I been telling myself. Mom has been hinting I might need to go to a doctor or something."
"What happened to your skin?"
"I'm jewish."
"Sorry. What?"
"The rabbi cirumcised me when I was seven days old. He cut off the foreskin. It's part of the religion."
"Ah." We just kind of laid there a moment. Then he continued, "I'm not out either. Dad caught me one time jerking off to porn, but I don't think he knew it was gay porn."
"You got a Dad?" I asked kind of thinking it was a stupid question. He'd just said he had one. But since the boy was nuzzled into my back with me hugging his arm as held my member so tenderly he just glazed over my stupidity and said, "Yah. Mom wouldn't tell me who my real dad was and she married some Mexican guy. I even got a step brother I gotta share a room with. He's older than me and bigger than me. In every way. I see him in the morning when he wakes up and his big thing sure tents out his shorts." Eli paused. "You won't tell any one I'm like -- well, a perv like that?
"Bro. Don't worry. I got your back. We better get up and eat some breakfast, get you back in some of your own clothes and get your Mom and mine all unworried." I said, my mind now more abuzz than ever before. We disentangled and dressed. I helped him roll up the cuffs of the pjamas and made sure he looked more or less presentable.
The fall out from the night wasn't that bad, actually. Jorge, pronounced 'whore-hey,' Eli's Dad, picked him up and our Mom's talked on the phone. Eli's bruises weren't that bad and his scrapes hurt were just scapes.
Now my convoluted life just got way more complicated. Was I really gay or just going through a phase or what the fuck?
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Characters and events portrayed in this story are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead is coincidental and not intended by the author.