Chapter 5: October 1993. Saturday night.
Daniel came over tonight, in the past we hung out together more often after school, but I still see him every day during school. He rode his bike over even though our homes were only 200 feet apart. By bicycle we had to ride around the block, on foot we took the shortcut across the yard of the house that sat between us and climbed over the wall.
Dan's been 'out and proud' since elementary school, before he actually learned what those words meant (I think he assumed `out and proud' meant something like: Boldly Different) to grownups. An advantage that gave him in high school was his provocative appearance was old news. When he designed his androgynous look I doubted he considered how people would react (especially his parents). I think the costumes of the singer Boy George (of the band: Culture Club) was briefly his style but he soon went beyond him once he learned it was just a marketing gimmick to sell records and concert tickets.
He called his new costume 'coming out' which was not what it actually meant, but he liked the way it sounded. Daniel shunned things he considered conformist (like blue jeans, cigarettes, and skate boards). Originally, I think Dan intended his new look to not represent sexuality but instead to represent originality, creativity, and counter-culture ideas, and he was shocked/dismayed to learn the entire world saw it as purely sexual.
In the 1960s it was long hair, flower power symbols, peace signs, blue jean bell bottoms, and hand painted cars. For Daniel in the 1980s it was odd girls clothing and lots of bling. At the time in our school he was the only boy doing it. He was also the only deaf kid.
During fifth and sixth grade Daniel got hassled a lot, he got it at home too. The pressure he received to conform came down especially hard from the middle school principal (he was a combat marine who served during WW2 on Iwo Jima and Guadalcanal). For a time it seemed like the entire world hated him. It started the morning he walked into school with (improperly applied) eye make-up, fake pearls, a very loose tank top, and a kilt-type dress. I told him he should have started on Halloween but never switched back to jeans and a t-shirt. I saw his girly clothes collection in his closet, he said all of it came from Goodwill.
That year it seemed like there was a hunting season for Daniel, he lived in fear and seldom had a day when nobody hit him, shoved him down, or took something from him, including his book bag. But he always got up and soldiered-on as if nothing happened, he really was a tough little kid, which was in stark contrast to being the only boy in school wearing eye make-up and a skirt.
That first week at school his baggy tank top shirts were so loose they slid sideways and often exposed parts of his chest in the classroom, which also earned him grief from some teachers. His nips are flat, round, red and about the same size as a nickel or quarter coin. His chest is mostly flat and his upper body probably looks the same as it did when he was nine years old. His belly button was a shallow cup with lines across the bottom that sort of resembled a spider's nest pattern. So his body ain't particularly attractive and was not very well designed but he was just a kid at the time.
At the time his new look didn't mean much to me, he just wanted to make a bold statement that our jeans and t-shirts were just as much of a costume as his kilts (skirts) and eye liner. But theirs was very conformist and socially acceptable, but his was original and creative. I stood up for him almost daily at first. In school he acted like he didn't understand why everyone avoided/hated him. I absorbed a lot of the abuse intended for him, but he was my friend and neighbor so I felt obligated. I kinda felt sorry for him too.
He knew before fifth grade he was only interested in girls as allies because he was boy crazy just like them. His only friends back then were me and the girls we called the `Fans of Kermit' (The FOKS). Lots of kids back then called him Kermy at school because of his small stature.
But not only was he a misfit his hearing loss made him talk funny. Daniel avoided conversation which made him appear aloof when he really wasn't. Lots of people believed he was retarded because of how poorly he spoke. He lived on the fringes of middle school society and tried very hard to go unnoticed. The Daniel Paradox was a concept I felt truly described him. I think he wanted to spark a revolution amongst the student body: be creative, be original, stop watching TV, and question everything.
He even designed a logo for his revolution that was a TV with rabbit ear antennas on top and the power cord cut.
Daniel was the first boy to wear eye makeup at Puckett Elementary School, some adults tried to find out who taught him and how he got the stuff. I think, like everything else Dan figured it out by trial and error. I think the other boys he hung-out with outside of school (the local masturbation club) were also experimenting with eye makeup but none of them did it at home or at school, just in private.
After high school Dan told me they'd dress up like little girls and perform a strip tease dance on a platform with lighting, boners on display, when they were old enough they'd come on the floor during the dance as part of the show but it was very private and by invitation only (I was never invited). He also said on occasion there were adults in the audience but it cost them a lot of money to watch the shows. I think someone eventually got the idea to video record them. Daniel joined them during 4th grade and continued until 11th grade, this was probably where the rumors of him doing porn came from.
Like I told you before, Dan was the smartest person I knew, the fastest learner, and best chess player. Soon after he `came out' his grades went from a consistent 100% to exactly 89%-90% on every test and paper.
I think the entire thing was caused by his hearing and his difficulty communicating with people. He was essentially an invisible deaf kid in a world of sound. His entire outward presentation was a reaction to the situation in which he lived, we did it to him, not the other way around. His parents weren't interested in having a special needs child at home, so they pretended he wasn't deaf. The blame started with his father and spread to the school and the kids around him. Crow and I were the only people that never turned our backs on him. And the school treated his deafness as if he wasn't trying hard enough, maybe his ears were lazy, or he really wasn't paying attention.
I think his outrageous appearance was his way of telling the world they were full of shit too, worse than him. Eventually the outrage faded, but it was a rough school year (1985-6) for us. That year a group of older boys trapped him in the bathroom and beat him bloody. He had a busted lip, bloody nose, and bruises, but he refused help and stayed at school the rest of the day like nothing happened. He wanted everyone to see what other students did to him. Every teacher sent him to the nurse's office but he refused treatment and went back to class. That night his parents talked on the phone with the principal and I think a lawsuit was threatened and the boys that beat him were soon expelled and there was never any mention of it again. Two boys simply stopped attending that school suddenly one day.
I asked him once why he was deaf and he said he got really sick when he was an infant and was in the children's hospital in Dallas for a week, and that was when they thought he suffered permanent hearing loss. One of his doctors thought he might have had brain damage caused by a blood clot but it was impossible then to MRI the brain of a 13 month old infant. When you spend lots of time with Dan like I have you start to notice his deafness is not the only problem he has, but most of his other symptoms are subtle. So I also suspect he had a permanent brain injury. Not only is he deaf but he has trouble speaking, as in fine control of his mouth and tongue. His face has a slight droop on one side (you can only see it when he smiles), and his handwriting is dreadful. He can understand math just fine, in fact he is genius level with algebra but sometimes he gets confused about the meaning of words and gives us gibberish answers.
I learned over the years when he speaks in gibberish not to make fun of him but simply tell him I don't understand' so he'll start over and talk slower. We also made our own hand sign for that phrase. We touch one eye, then the ear, and then hold-up one hand as if to say I don't get it.'
In third grade we practically lived at each other's houses but after he met other boys in our neighborhood (The Masturbation Club) I saw much less of him. There were a couple years in our history where I had little to no idea what was going on his life. I heard a rumor in high school that Dan did porn and sold drugs but I don't know if that was true or just a school rumor, but I heard it several times. I bet that he could easily appear on video as a child because of his petite physical size. I have no plans on asking him if it was true, but he would have had to buy some kind of fake ID to get paid to appear in porn videos.
I heard there were porn films shot in some of the hotels along the Interstate and sometimes he seemed to have a lot of cash for a 14 year old kid, but I never asked. But like I said he could easily be made up to look like a nine year old boy who was able to have an orgasm.
Twelfth grade was good for us, we saw each other in school several times a day and often ate lunch together and saw each other naked in the gym locker room twice a week. We visited outside school about twice a month, usually at my house so he could mess around with the dog. The summer (June 1989) that Crow was born he came over every day and helped me bottle feed the baby for three weeks straight. Taking care of the newborn doggie was a 24 hour job.
Daniel held Crow like an infant with the bottle at his mouth and softly sung to him, he caressed the pup and held him with great care, it was nice to see. They really clicked and I knew some day Daniel would be a great father.
A few times a year I rescued him at school, his appearance (and size) triggered a certain type of local boy. They saw him and were instantly filled with rage. Because of our size difference, over time I started to treat him more like I was his older brother and he seemed to like that.
But today he was sitting on my bed I finally told him about Tom, beyond what he may have heard about the stabbing. Because his speech was lousy sometimes I'll show you here what his voice actually sounded like:
"Did I tell you I met someone on CompuServe?" I asked.
"What ew me?" Daniel asked with a sudden look of paying really close attention to my every word.
"I met a boy online, we're dating."
"F.A.B.! He ah one got knife? Oh wait, izzy ah Mexican frum Caprock?" He said with a look of excitement on his face.
"Yes, his name is Tom, he's a senior, but he's not Mexican, he's Texan like us, but he's half-brown." After that I carefully signed the spelling of his name: THOMAS RILEY.
"Ats great Bert. Oh my God! I real happy for ou. So-u do it yet? Gimme juicy detayohs!" He asked still looking all excited.
"No, not really. We've done stuff but there's a looong way to go, we're still getting to know each other. He's still being evaluated by Crow." Dan laughed loudly and slapped his thighs when I said that because he knew exactly how hard it could be to get approved by the Director of Pack Security (DoPS=Crow). Crow was usually easy to befriend, but sometimes he just seemed to hate certain people for no apparent reason!
"U haff regwet we ne'er fuck?" Dan asked.
"You know I love you, but I know how that would go when our mates would eventually say: you gotta pick, it's him or me, but not both!" When I said that it reflected on his face as a sudden surge of emotion he couldn't hide. His eyes got watery just then, like me Dan cannot hide his inner feelings. I signed: I love you.
"Yeah, I cah see it happen to boaf us." He said wiping his cheeks dry.
It was interesting that we both knew we could fuck any day but decided not to, it hung over us like overdue late book fees at the library. Mom shouted down the hallway, "Robbie, five minutes honey!"
"I geh I shoobe go." He said with his typical look of disappointment.
"Thanks for coming over, don't be a stranger, okay?"
"Nufin stranger den me!" that was his slogan, he thought it was funny. I've told him he should stop belittling himself. I just signed: STOP, he knew what that meant.
Actually I just signed STP, he knew it meant STOP, but it was one of our secret sign codes.
We both got up off the bed, Daniel leaned into me leaving a small kiss on my cheek. I gave him a big brief hug (and lifted him off the floor).
I turned and bowed slightly for him to lead the way. But Daniel put his arms back around me and held me firmly, and rested his face on my shoulder and we stood there holding each other in silence.
I felt him reach up and itch his nose but we stayed near my bed holding each other in a very emotional embrace. I always believed that for most of his life I was one of the few people that actually embraced him like that and sometimes he came over because he needed to feel like someone actually cared about him.
I slid my hands up his back and felt his shoulder blades while he leaned his face against my chest and hung on me. Minutes past and he stayed in place, I thought he might cry too but he didn't. Finally, he stepped back and slid one hand under my shirt to my chest and rubbed one of my tits then turned to leave. I let him do anything he wanted, I would never stop him and he knew that. Even though we had boundaries the truth was: we had no boundaries. We were just waiting for one of us to cross the line and become intimate, maybe. I expect some time before we got into adult relationships we'd go all the way once to celebrate a lifetime of love for each other and friendship too.
We left my room, I followed him to the back door where his bike was leaned against the gas grill. We waved as he stepped out the kitchen door, I went to the other side of the kitchen to see what was cooking.
About nine minutes later I was sitting at the bar with Mom eating dinner when my phone rang so I pushed back from the bar and ran to my room.
"Rob's phone!"
"Hi Robbie it me. Where you dog?" Dan asked with an odd tone in his voice.
"He's around her somewhere, why?" I asked.
"Well bro, a large black dog curl up on my bed!" he said as he laughed into the phone.
I pulled the phone away and yelled: "CROW!" but there was no sound of ticking toe nails on our hardwood floors. I told Daniel: 'I'd be right over, sit him inside the front door.' We've done this drill many times.
Back in the kitchen I put on my shoes and told Mom that the dog followed Daniel home (again), she looked at me while chewing a bite of food and smiled. I grabbed the longer leash and ran out the kitchen door into the back yard. At that moment Dan walked Crow to their front door and had him sit and stay, then he gave Crow a kiss on the top of his head and went back to his room. And like a good boy Crow sat there beside the front door waiting for further instruction.
I stood up on a lawn chair and looked at the house behind ours, it looked totally dark so I slipped over the rock wall then ran across their yard, out to the street and up Daniel's driveway.
I've spent a huge amount of time inside Dan's house, his parents liked me and Crow. I cracked open their front door and slowly pushed it inward. The first thing that appeared was a large black nose sniffing the air just above the door knob, he snorted. I pushed the door in a little more and steered the dog outside and clipped the leash to his collar and ran us back home around the block.
Crow was so close to Daniel that he probably considered their house and family to be part of his extended pack so escaping our yard and running to Dan's wasn't really a rules violation in Crow's brain. He never got punished for scratching at their kitchen door. The biggest problem was when Crow went over there he always lied. He tried to act like he hadn't been fed or petted in days, which was of course a big Danish lie.
His parents did not want Crow in their pool, but it was fenced now so that wasn't a problem. Crow had been in their pool a few times before the fence was installed. He would run over to their place, bust open the back yard gate and walk over to the pool and step down the steps and swim around until he had enough, then back to the steps and out onto the pool deck where he could shake himself dry. If he was shedding he got those little black dog hairs all over the pool, the patio, and inside the pool filter (which was a major issue).
When he escaped our yard and went to their house (after the fence went up) he usually went to the kitchen door and stood up on his back feet so he could look in the window. To his parents it was very startling to see a six foot tall dog standing up looking in the back door window. They'd let him in and give him food scraps then he'd go to Dan's bedroom and assume the position there, trying to be unseen. I guess Crow also liked the change of scenery, different smells, and they often gave him a slice of ham as a treat for being so well behaved and friendly.
Crow was an expert handler of humans, he knew precisely how to behave to win over people in seconds. He often did the cat routine by rubbing against you, which worked well. But his black fur was so soft few people could resist petting him.
His favorite way of telling people he hadn't been fed in a week was to sit on the floor and stare at the refrigerator door and pant. He was an absolute master of fakery.
Back when Crow was about 13 months old he discovered that since Dan cannot hear our gate latch shut when he leaves the yard he sometimes leaves the gate open. He also learned that at Dan's house if he goes to their gate, stands up and puts his feet on top of the gate and rocks it firmly it sometimes opens, then he can go swimming.
Just like Daniel and me, Crow also learned a lot by experimenting with things that got in his way. Two years later their insurance policy required them to put a fence up to keep kids (and dogs) out of the pool.
When I want to introduce someone new to Crow and I want to influence Crow into liking the visitor the best way to do it is this: 1. When he comes over put Crow in my bedroom and close the door. 2. Then bring the person into the kitchen and slice up a hot dog or some ham and wrap it with saran wrap and then have him sit on the sofa. 3. Let the dog loose.
Then after the initial nose-to-nose introduction: 4. The visitor pulls out the meat and acts like he is just snacking and once the dog zeroes in on it act like you are going to eat it all. 5. At the last second move your hand from your mouth and offer it gently to the dog. He always liked people who handed over their own food. Just hold it flat on your palm and let the dog grab it. Most of the time nobody gets injured or slimed but you gotta move quickly. I usually tell them to talk to the dog like he fully understands English, "You want this?" "You want all of it?" Crow does appear to fully understand.
Let me explain how the dog escapes our yard. Daniel cannot hear the gate latch shut. When he rides off sometimes the wind blows the gate open and if Crow's outside he'll take off running behind Daniel on his bicycle. When Daniel gets home he parks his bike against the side of his house then he feels a bump on his back from the big dog nose, which he does a lot to people to let them know he's right behind them (because he's afraid of having people step on his paws). Dan turns around sees the happy and panting dog so he brings him inside and then calls me. But since they all love the big soft dog they usually give him something to eat and drink first. Food rewards for most animals really click in their brains so it's easy to buy your way onto his `preferred human' list. He likes the Lund family so much sometimes he just goes over there to visit, that's when they see him standing upright looking in the kitchen door window! It's quite shocking to suddenly see a 6'3" tall black animal silently standing upright staring at you through the kitchen door.
They always bring him inside and he goes directly to the refrigerator and stares at the freezer door, hoping for ice cream most of all. Sometimes they give him a whole ice cream sandwich cut into two big bites.
Mom asked the vet once about ice cream sandwiches and he said, yes chocolate is not good for dogs, but to really poison one it takes a lot of pure dark chocolate with a high concentration of cocoa. Most milk chocolate is 90% harmless for dogs because it doesn't have much theobromine in it anyway. The vet said most of the chocolate fear for dogs is bullshit because actual real chocolate is rare in the USA, he said it can give some dogs a very high heart rate.
By Mom's rules we feed Crow a diet of about 70% people food since she thinks most grocery store dog food is junk. He will eat a few vegetables but turns his nose up to certain ones, like Brussels sprouts, onions, and lettuce. He likes: corn, bread, cereals, milk/cheese, potatoes, and rice. We think dogs can smell protein and that is a big part of what attracts them to certain foods.
Sometimes we stop for burgers and we always get Crow a Whopper junior, but order it plain. We used to get them with everything but despite the fact that he inhales the burger somehow his tongue still is able to do a high speed sort and a few moments later some onion and lettuce chunks get ejected from his mouth and fall to the floor of the car. We buy the whopper junior and break it into three or four pieces and hand it to him and hope to not lose any fingers in the process. I try to hold it in such a way that he can clearly see my fingers. Sometimes I remind him first, "Gentle."
One time we were in the car and I was driving and we got him a plain burger, she fed it to him and he bit her fingers so hard she bled. Mom had me park the car and she got out and got in the back seat and grabbed his collar and pulled his head, nose to nose with her after she held up her hand so he could see the blood, she scolded him loudly. And Crow sat there trembling like a frightened child and took his scolding, the look on his face was priceless. But he never got hit in any way, mostly what she did was yell at him and force him to see and smell the blood on her finger. Crow was visibly shaken and acted like her silent shadow the rest of the day and slept in her bed the rest of that week.
We're still careful about hand-feeding him anything. Sometimes he still needs to be reminded to be gentle with those big white teeth. `Gentle' is one of the words we taught him. No matter how much he gets socialized he still always eats like there are creatures nearby threatening to steal his food.
By the time I got home my dinner was barely warm but I finished it off quickly.
After helping Mom with clean-up I waited to call as directed. Tom was home from work, showered and back to his room by 7:40pm. I picked up the phone and punched-in the number. He answered on the second ring.
"Bueno?" He usually answered in Spanish.
"Dude, howz biz tonight?"
"We were super busy, specials on Saturday night always sell out, people drive from outside the city to eat at Stars on Saturday nights. I think the boss (the other owner of Star's Diner) made a killing. The waitress was happy too, my fingers'll be wrinkled for days I think!"
"You okay?" I asked fearing he might be too tired for much of anything.
"Yeah, I'm fine just tired, worked my ass off all evening." He said with a slight sigh.
"What was the special?" I asked.
"Mexican Stew, beef chunks, in a tomato sauce with rice and sweet corn in a bowl with two tortillas on the side." Then he added it was very popular and always sold out, some people used it to make their own fajitas.
"Any way we can get together?" I asked.
"Sure, why not? Can you get wheels?" Tom asked.
"Probably."
"Wanna come over?" Tom said with a slight Hispanic accent in his voice just then. He shows that in his voice on certain words.
"Your Mom home tonight?"
"Yep, she's here all night. I think she's watchin' last Sunday's Cowboys game."
"Want my peeps to talk to your peeps?" I said with a laugh.
"Hang on I'll talk to management." He set the phone down, I could hear his bedroom door open with a squeak then I heard distant voices and music that must have been the TV in their living room.
Silence.
I always thought it was funny how Tom referred to Maria as Management' instead of Mom' since she was half-owner of Star's Diner and was his boss sometimes too.
Then the sound of a door closing and rustling around the phone. "Robert?"
"Yeah, what'd she say?"
"Put your Madre on the phone, tell her it's Maria on the phone."
I walked out to the living room grabbed the remote to pause the movie. I turned the little knob to line two and lifted the phone handing it to her, "Its Maria."
She put the phone to her ear with a moronic smile, then started to speak.
"Hello? Hi Maria, yes that was me at the hospital, I'm Lisa Davis, and you're welcome. Fine. You? Good. Yes, same thing. No, not at all. He needs to be home by eight tomorrow. Yes. Thank you Maria, bye." She handed the phone back to me, I hung up that extension and ran into the bedroom grabbed my phone and laid on the bed.
"You there?" I said into the phone. "HelloooOOOooo?"
"I'm back, sorry. So what's the deal?"
"Sounds like my mom gave permission to spend the night. Is that what you had in mind?"
"Like for the past four weeks now!"
"Okay then. Anything you need me to bring over?" I asked thinking about the limited funds I had in my wallet.
"That's a temptation to be crude you know?" He spoke with a playful quieter tone in his voice.
"Go ahead, run it past me," I dared him.
"Okay then, KY, rubbers, porn, munchies, and a Mad Magazine too."
"I don't have any of that stuff."
"I was kidding, how long'll it take?" He said sounding like he was setting a stop watch.
"Half an hour, let me take a quickie shower, okay?"
"Cool, see you then. Park in the drive, up close by the garage and lock 'er up."
"Cool, see you soon. Bye."
"Bye."
I grabbed clean clothes went to the shower and within ninety seconds I shut off the water and grabbed the towel, next stop was my closet. I grabbed clothes for tomorrow, gym shorts and a loose tank top to sleep in tonight. Stuffed them in a grocery bag, got the keys from my mom's purse, a kiss on the cheek and out the garage door. I re-checked my hair and teeth in the mirror at the traffic light on the overpass on I-27.
The best street to cross southern A-Town was 34th Avenue. There's a 7-11 store just across the I-27 overpass. I stopped to see if they had any of the stuff from Tom's list, but all I found was munchies. On the drive the rest of the way I considered all the time I spent asking for permission for things and hoped that after graduation most of it stopped. An 18 year old asking his mother for permission to sleep over was ridiculous. I didn't mind telling her where I'm going but asking to do stuff was weird. Mom needed to grow up just as much as me. I was also surprised to see Tom lived under almost the same rules. I think Mom will roll back some rules once I graduate.
Like me, Tom lived near his high school (3001 E. 34th Ave, Amarillo). I hit the turn signal and turned onto his street. I could tell right away that houses in his neighborhood were probably half the size as the ones on my block.
Like he said I parked a few feet from the garage door, locked the car and walked to the front door. As I reached out to knock, the door swung inward, Tom reached out, grabbed my shirt, and yanked me in the front door. We laughed at the movie cliche. He pressed me against the wall and whispered the theme for the night was a fake kidnapping into sex slavery, then he held his finger to his lips, `shhhh' with a smile he took my hand and pulled me into the living room.
We entered the living room where I spoke to his Madre briefly, she was trying to watch a movie (She Wore a Yellow Ribbon, 1949) on the VCR, so we went back to his room where he had a 13-inch color TV, an old top-loading VCR and an old game console with a stack of worn game cartridges. At a whisper Tom told me I was his prisoner and I shouldn't resist or I'd pay dearly. He gestured to get on his bed, which in this case doubled as the sofa, just like in my room. In fact the layout of his room was nearly identical to mine but his room was lots smaller and his closet wasn't one you could walk inside. His floor was free of dog toys and stinky socks.
Tom had a rental tape of the movie Lawnmower Man. All he really wanted was to see Jeff Fahey with no shirt on. He started the tape as we got ourselves comfortable sitting side by side at the head of his bed leaning against the wall, he turned off the lights and cranked the sound up on his stereo from the movie.
7:30pm Saturday night.
Tom hit PAUSE twenty minutes into the movie so we could go to the kitchen to make some munchies: melted Velveeta (with Cholula, crushed red peppers, and jalapeno slices) over tortilla chips to munch during the movie. By 9:25pm it was over and the chips were gone. He hit rewind and switched to cable-TV to check out VH1 and a few other channels (A&E played music videos on the weekend too). Nothing really interesting was on so he shut it off and turned his stereo to the pop/dance station here in town.
Tom came back to his spot beside me. It was a long and uncomfortable silence while I racked my brain thinking of something to say. Finally it came to me.
We spoke at the same time, then stopped and started laughing.
"How was your school week?" I spoke first.
"Same old. I'm countin' down the weeks 'til high school's finally over." He said looking at his toes."
"So does your mom just go to bed after the movie or what?" I asked.
"She usually falls asleep on the sofa and goes to bed later."
"Sounds like mine too. But she's pretty forgiving with what I can do at home so her being there really doesn't change much." I replied.
"Oh bull! Like what would you do when she's home that you couldn't do here?"
"Like watch TV in my underwear and drink one of her beers."
"You'd do that in front of your mom?" He asked raising his eyebrows in disbelief.
"Just about, I've done it and just sort of ignored her. I've been walking around the house in my undies suit since I quit wearing diapers."
"That's weird. I would never do stuff like that in front of my mom."
"Don't worry, they know what we look like and all the stuff we do. It's no different than when they were in school."
"You drank beer too?" Tom asked.
"Once. She always keeps a 6-pack in the fridge so one evening after dinner I grabbed one and sat beside her and drank it."
"What'd she say?"
"She asked if I liked it."
"And you said..."
"I told her it sucked, it was bitter and nasty."
"What was it?"
"Uh... I think it was some Mexican beer in a red can. Mom said it needed to be salted."
Then I asked Tom: "Is your door locked?" I asked glancing at the door.
"Yep, but don't think about escape." His answer made me chuckle, I forgot I was his prisoner tonight. He hadn't really done anything to me yet, or I maybe I blinked and missed it.
"Is she gonna come in here anytime tonight?" I asked but already knew his answer.
"Only if someone screams for help!"
"Can I tell you something?" I asked hoping he would say yes.
"Yeah."
"My mom said we should get tested at the hospital. She said it's free. We could go right now."
"Right now? You nuts?" Tom said grabbing my forearm.
"Yes and yes. We got a car, a full tank of gas, and it's early, wanna go?"
"God, I hate needles. Okay. You know wheretago?" he asked.
"Same hospital they took you after..." I didn't want to remind him. "Road Trip!" Tom declared almost too loud for the small bedroom.
We got up, put our shoes on, grabbed our wallets and headed outside. On his way out the front door he pressed his finger to my back as if it was a pistol and told me, "Don't try anything stupid, like shouting for help or driving weird."
We drove west then north past the Star's Diner then to the interstate then west to the hospitals. We followed the signs to the urgent care at the corner of Port Lane at Woodward Ave. Within 45 minutes we had bandages on our arms and blood samples submitted. We were given numbers (and codes) to call Monday for results.
Walking back to the car he pressed his finger into my back and reminded me not to struggle or he'd let me have it. I wasn't sure I understood the reason for his charade, but I kinda played along. Then we drove back to Tom's.
11:35pm Saturday night.
We made it back to his bedroom to the same positions. I started to get the yawns while Tom clicked through the cable channels again and again (Cable TV sucks). His huge old VCR had a clicky knob on front to change channels, and no remote control. It was made before they were a standard feature on all VCRs. He said the top loading VCRs lasted a long time and were huge but didn't have many features. There was a sticker on the back that said it was made in Japan in 1982, he said it cost $1100 new but he got it for free. He found it in the trash three years ago and brought it home. It said Panasonic Omnivision on top. You pushed a tape in the holder and pressed it down into the machine. The disadvantage with that design was you couldn't put anything on top of it. And back then many of the top loading VCRs were huge too, but they lasted a long time. You might have to replace a drive belt or clean the spinning video head but they still kept working. The original owner set it on top of their trash bin so he grabbed it.
The only light on in his room was the small lamp by his alarm clock. Tom climbed out of bed (again) and shut off the TV (locked his door) then stood beside me and slowly took off his socks and dropped his jeans and boxers. Then he slowly unbuttoned his shirt from the top down then took it off revealing his entire body. I wished he'd just stand there in the light and let me admire him all night.
In my brain I pictured me photographing him naked in a studio, all the different lighting angles and backgrounds, film types, and light temperatures. His body looked like a Greek statue of an Olympic athlete, or some kind of male underwear model.
His body was fantastic below the ribs, in that light he looked darker brown and the shape of his butt was gorgeous. His flesh looked so smooth and inviting I fought the urge to touch him. His thighs looked strong and his upper body too, but around the middle he was curvy and beautiful.
His wide inny belly button `stood out' the most. The flesh on his stomach started to curve down into it way out like two inches all the way around which made it look enormous and highly erotic. I've actually never seen one like his before. Mine was just a small bump like the tip of a pool que-stick.
He had a decent crop of pubes that didn't spread upwards at all. His penis hung neatly in front of his balls. His balls were plump and looked rather large. Being half-Mexican his skin had a nice tanned look. I wanted to taste him real bad right then but opted to stare at the magnificence of his body and the show he put on for me. It was obvious he sometimes trimmed the bush. I've done it too in the shower.
He stood beside me like a living statue so I could examine his body, then he turned so I could see his profile and his back side. The skin on his back was flawless and inviting, his butt cheeks were bigger than mine and his shoulders were wider too. His upper body had a nice mild V-shape to it. He looked very healthy and his flesh was nearly flawless, except for the new scar on his belly like he just had surgery.
I scooted closer and reached over and put my hand flat on his back and felt his muscles then slid my hand down below his hip, across one butt cheek with my finger tips slid across his butt crack then down his thigh, and then I leaned over and placed a couple tiny kisses on his butt.
Slowly he turned back around but now his dick pointed straight at me and had part of a drop of something at his pee hole.
I rubbed my hand across his lower belly and carefully dragged my fingers over his belly button and stopped when my index finger dropped down inside the deep hole below its wide entrance. His tummy was warm, baby soft, and totally hairless.
I moved my hand up the center of his abdomen to his lower chest and ran my fingers across his right tit and watched it squish and pop back into shape. I very gently stretched it out which made it shrivel up after I let go. A glistening string of Cowper's juice hung off the tip and swung side to side when I pressed his flesh. Tom watched me with a smile and a sultry stare down the front of his body.
"Would you come for me?" I looked in his eyes and whispered as I gently cupped his nut sack in my hand.
Tom smiled and climbed on top with his knees in my arm pits and bounced his rod against my lips several times then rubbed it all over my face. He moved the pillow so my face was perfectly positioned.
His slid his head side to side across my mouth until I opened my mouth and half of it went inside.
His dick felt wonderful in my mouth. I rubbed the head with my tongue and tried to lick the drops that oozed out of his dick, one after another. He tasted salty and very nice. His dick felt like soft rubber in my mouth, and he seemed to get even stiffer as his pleasure level increased. I could have stayed in that position for hours. Tom leaned forward and put his arms on the wall and kind of settled lower into my face and his dick went even further into my mouth. I felt his balls setting against my neck.
I think he lasted about two minutes before he started to softly moan and twitch his pelvic muscles, seconds later semen started to flow. At first it spurt then it oozed, and it kept oozing for about 6 seconds, it came in waves. I swallowed so I didn't drown.
His body relaxed, leaned back, and slowly started to pull his dick from my mouth. I think that was the second time in my life I swallowed semen. I'm glad it was his.
After a minute he pushed off the wall, with his head between my lips. He reached down and manually pulled it out and sort of fell sideways onto the other side of the bed, his smiling face pressed into the pillow. I reached over and rubbed his body. It looked like he was almost asleep. The thickness of his semen felt like I needed to swallow a few more times.
I got up and pulled on my underwear and tiptoed to the hallway bathroom, used the toilet and drank water from the faucet then went back to bed, by then he was gonesville.
After a few minutes of watching his nipples slowly rise and fall I shut off the light by his bed and rolled onto my side and pressed my lips to his shoulder and leaned against him like a spoon beside a fork. In my mind I pictured his body and thought to myself, `the lion sleeps tonight,' and then I was gone too.
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