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By Chris Carr
Copyright © Sept, 2012
goin’ or not?” Startled, Russell stirred, glancing at the boy. His steely
eyes regarding him, Damion tilted his head to the side in a ‘well?’ gesture.
“Told you I
wasn’t going today,” Russell muttered, lighting his cigar.
com’on, Mr. G, I thought you was gonna hook me up?” Shaking his head Russell
blew a plume of smoke.
Damion plopped down on a bucket in Russell’s garage. He hated when Mr. G got
like this, but he really liked the old sucker’s company so he didn’t trip
too hard. Taking his phone out, he opened his Facebook account, checking for
updates. As he studied his phone Russell watched him. That he kept coming back
proved both bothersome and intriguing.
is the game?” Damion said, eyes still on his phone.
Francisco got a chance?”
“They got a
good offence. Good quarterback. Should do good.”
Damion assented, nodding his head. Flipping another screen on his phone he
continued studying it.
that?” Looking up, Damion replied,
is that you’re doing?”
Damion replied, walking over to Mr. G’s chair. The same chair he’d caught
him dosing in the day his ball went astray…
He called, running into Mr. G’s garage. Rubbing his head, Russell glared at
Damion apologized again, his eyes darting away as Russell glared at him. “I
was tryna hit it at the tree,” He explained, pointing to a tree in the yard.
Fuckin’ tree is over THERE!” Dropping his head, Damion muttered,
say!!” Russell said, snatching his ball. “Get yo’ ass over there.”
Taken back by
the man’s gruff demeanor, Damion nevertheless jogged opposite him, picking up
his bat. Staring at him, Mr. G barked,
way you hold it?”
boy! That how you hold it? No wonder you beaned me on the head.” Walking over
to the boy Russell moved his slight hands about the bat until they were more
your elbow up,” He added, moving the boy’s slight arms. “Spread your
legs.” Kicking the boy’s feet apart, he pushed down on the boy’s back
until he was in a proper stance. Walking away, he stood opposite him once more,
aiming the ball towards him.
old man would address him so harshly, Damion found himself complying. There was
something about the man’s sure handling that put him at ease; like he’d done
this with countless boys before.
suddenly propelled towards him, his eyes bugged and he ducked, Mr. G’s
delivery one he’d never seen before.
you runnin’ away for?” Russell irked.
fast was that ball moving?” Damion gushed, looking behind him to see where the
up!” Darting for the ball, Damion flicked it towards Mr. G, the ball falling
short of the man. Retrieving the ball, Mr. G wound up again.
don’t throw it so fast this time,” Damion cautioned.
supposed to throw it? Like a girl?”
no girl!” Damion protested.
shut the fuck up and hit the damn ball!”
again, the ball sailed towards Damion. His urge to duck surfacing again, he held
his ground, swinging his bat at the fast moving ball only to hear a swoosh of
empty air. Throwing the ball back, he assumed his
stance again, his hairless balls cringing nervously close to his groin when the
ball whizzed past his head once more.
slow,” Russell said. “Swing before
the ball gets to you.”
several failed attempts, Damion eventually hit the ball, his eyes popping wide
as it sailed towards Mr. G’s window. Both of them watching, Damion’s balls
snuggled even closer to his groin as it just missed the window. Ecstatic, he
jumped up and down until he heard Mr. G say,
“Now go get it.”
Damion first saw Mr. G perched in his garage, he imagined the old man was no
doubt cool, just
cranky at times. He never yelled at him or his friends if they rode in his yard
like Mrs. Richards.
“You boys stay out my yard!” Damion
and his buddies tried to stay out her yard but sometimes they couldn’t all fit
on the sidewalk so one or two of them would spill over into her yard. When he
passed Mr. G’s yard, he’d regard them with some scrutiny but never said
In the evenings Damion would see Mr. G
watering his yard. A well-worn cigar almost always on his bottom lip, he
didn’t seem like the kind of guy you’d have sodas with. That is, until he
beaned him with his baseball. And although Mr. G took time to give him needed
pointers on how to hit the ball, he didn’t always seem cool about the boy
One day Damion noticed him loading an
old lawnmower onto the back of his truck. Running over he inquired as to where
Mr. G was going. Shifting his cigar from one side of his mouth to the other, he
hitched his pants up as he stared down at the boy.
“Cut some lawns,” He muttered,
returning to his garage. Picking up some tools, he headed for his truck,
flicking the remote on his automatic garage door as he exited, the closing door
almost trapping Damion inside before he darted out.
“Can I come?”
“Help what boy?” He smirked,
regarding the diminutive youth.
“I can help. I cut my granny’s
“With what, a pair of scissors?”
Walking off, Mr. G opened the door to his truck.
“Com’on Mr. G, give me a chance,”
Damion said, running to the opposite door. Opening it, he plopped his small
frame on the seat.
“What’re you doin?!”
“I’m gonna help you.”
“I don’t need any help,” Russell
grumbled, still standing in his door. “Besides, where’s your momma? She know
where your little scrawny ass is?”
“She doesn’t care!”
“How you know?” Pausing, Damion
blinked a couple of times.
“Want me to ask her?”
“Yeah!” Russell said, swinging into
the truck. Expecting the boy to dart off to his house, he’d planned to leave
the little snot. But to his chagrin the little rugrat extracted a small phone
from his pocket and pushed his thumb across the number pad.
“Mom? Can I go with Mr. G… I mean,
Mr. Gilkes to cut lawns?” A short pause, then he quickly added, “You know,
Mr. G? The guy’s been helping me with my baseball?” Another pause, then he
looked up at Russell. “I dunno, where we goin?”
Russell wanted to tell him he wasn’t going anywhere but he was so outdone he dropped his head
and merely replied “The Nelsons, two blocks over.”
“You hear that?” Damion said,
smiling at Mr. G.
Damion kept an eye on Mr. G after that,
running across the street the moment he noticed him loading his old lawnmower.
At first Mr. G mostly tolerated him, refusing to let him push his old mower. But
eventually Damion showed him he could handle more than he assumed, the boy
helping him load the lawnmower one day, just as Mr. G almost lost it on the ramp
to his truck.
His back bothering him that day, Russell
shouldn’t have been cutting lawns but “need-mo” dictated a lot of things,
his pockets bare.
“What’s ‘need-mo’?” Damion
asked, the first time he heard Mr. G use the term.
“Need-mo boy! You never heard of
that?” Shaking his head, Damion waited.
“Need-mo. Need-mo money, need-mo food,
need-mo, gas. Need-Mo!”
“Oh, I get it,” Damion said,
Struggling with the old heavy mower,
he’d made it halfway up the ramp when his back shot him a pain that almost
made him cry out. Grabbing his back, the lawnmower lurched, heading back towards
him. Jumping on the old makeshift ramp, Damion grabbed the mower, holding it in
place. The boy’s scrawny arms a bold relief pattern of sinewy muscles, he held
the heavy mower in place until Russell gathered himself enough to push it into
the bed of his truck.
“Thanks,” He mumbled, lighting his
ever-present cigar. With a simple nod, Damion hitched up his low hanging pants,
dashing back to the yard to retrieve Mr. G’s weed whacker. It was the first
time Russell actually appreciated the boy tagging along.
Eventually Russell cut him in on a
percentage of his profits, the youth proving helpful on more than one occasion.
Thrilled, Damion was like sticky gum on the bottom of his shoe after that.
Learning the man’s schedule, he no longer waited until Russell started loading
his equipment onto his truck, instead accosting him about their prospective
customers like he did today.
Theirs was a tentative relationship,
founded on their mutual need for each other, despite Russell’s misgivings.
He’d lived alone for some years and hadn’t anticipated a kid tagging along
at this stage. Damion wasn’t all bad, however, the kid intuitively aware when
he should shut the fuck up and when it was cool to talk. When given a chance to
gab, Damion could really go, his animated repartee almost endless, it seemed,
but, to his credit, he didn’t gab all the time. That day Russell almost lost
the lawnmower, Damion never said anything, even though he might’ve saved
Russell’s life. When he ran to the yard to retrieve Russell’s weed whacker
it was like he knew the man needed his help more than ever that day. He needed
little thanks for his ‘help’, gladly pitching in where he could. Russell
would’ve been loathed to admit it but the little twerp had actually made his
way into his heart. Which is why he was hurt more than ever the day Damion
showed up with that black eye.
“What tha hell?” He said, hopping up
from his chair. Grabbing the boy’s face, he examined the puffy eye. Steamed,
Damion said nothing, yanking his face away when he felt Mr. G had looked long
“Terriyon ,” Damion muttered with a
“How you know Terriyon?” Russell
“School… he’s my tutor.”
“Yeah, in math. I go to him twice a
Trying to imagine a more mature Terriyon,
Russell went back a few years in his mind.....
Passing the house a third time, he was
certain his eyes had to be playing tricks on him. Completely on a whim he’d
glanced at the house, his mind on the pastrami sandwich at the corner burger
stand. Doing an actual double take, he only saw a flash but couldn’t believe
what he was seeing.
Walking up the block he casually doubled
back, coolly darting his eyes several times to make sure. To his utter shock,
the boy passed the security door again, his form almost a shadow behind it.
Almost tripping over his feet, Russell’s eyes grew large as he spied the
His heart thundering in his chest, he
still couldn’t believe his eyes. No way,
he gaped. Your eyes are playing tricks on
you. Stopping up the block, he stilled his racing heart, composing himself.
Waiting a respectable period of time, he walked back, this time paying special
attention to the house.
Slowing as he approached, he shoved his
hands in his pockets. Straining at the door, at first he saw nothing, concluding
that his mind had played tricks on him. Then the form reappeared and this time
the boy was wagging his erect dick at him! Naked from the waist down, his only
piece of clothing was a very revealing shirt he’d obviously outgrown and a pair
of briefs, which he was pulling down to reveal his upright boy hardness!
Captivated, Russell stopped, gawking at
the boy. A car passed and the boy darted away from the door. His heart thumping
in his ears, Russell continued on, not wanting to get caught. Walking more than
halfway to the corner, he could no more stop himself from doubling back than
stop the sun from rising.
His third time past the house, his dick
shot up with his heart rate, the boy actually pressing his stiffness against the
door. Frozen, Russell looked up the block to his left, then his right. Not
seeing anyone, he cautiously stepped closer.
Not wanting to scare him away, Russell
just stared. What the fuck? No way this little runt was flashing strangers through his door?
But there it was, right in front him. The hottest cutie you’d ever
seen. Cute as a button, he was a pint sized, coco brown version of Damion, his
frame smooth as a baby’s, his unmistakable boy dick pointed straight at him.
At a loss, Russell wasn’t sure how
long he’d stood there, his head reeling. The world suddenly quiet, the birds
in the trees fell into the background while the ambient noise of the city was
quelled. He’d almost walked into the yard when the sound of an approaching car
startled both of them. Practically hopping in the air the boy ran off, his
retreating brown bottom heartbreaking to watch.
His world becoming the boy behind the door, he lost several nights’ sleep. He couldn’t count the times he’d passed the house, his heart in his throat but, to his great disappointment, he didn’t see the gorgeous boy. How Terriyon’s mom never caught him passing the house so many times, he didn’t know. All he knew was his heart ached for just one more glimpse of the beautiful boy...
He was at the neighborhood grocery store
a few days later when a flash passed him going down an aisle. Russell was at the
front of the store about to get in line when he spied the cutie walking down the
middle aisle that traversed the center of the store. Certain his eyes were
playing tricks on him again, he bounded up the nearest aisle, hot in pursuit.
Abandoning his basket near the front, he all but ran down the aisle, hell bent
on catching the vision.
Making a quick turn at the center aisle
he looked to his right and left as he passed each aisle. He was so busy looking
from side to side, he almost ran right into the boy. Both of them freezing, Terriyon
gawked at him, his eyes like the deer in the headlights. It’s
him! His eyes screamed.
Gawking at each other they stood frozen
in place, the boy eventually dashing off towards the back of the store. Russell
followed, his heart thumping in his chest as he threw caution to the wind.
Although he’d talked to a lot of boy’s he’d never done anything so risky. Who
was this boy and what if someone caught him pursuing him through the store?
Terriyon turned at the back aisle,
walking deliberately towards the deli section. Russell followed, his heart in
his throat as he stopped near the cold cuts. Hanging back a couple of seconds,
Russell cautiously approached. Sidling up beside the boy, he idly shopped the
various meats. Glancing a couple of times at him, his heart practically jumped
into his throat at his inordinate beauty. Gathering his courage, he finally
“What’s your name?” The boy
glanced up at him, his face troubled, but Russell never noticed.
My name is Russell,” He said,
smiling at the boy. Darting his eyes over his shoulder, Terriyon looked more nervous
“My mom...” He whispered.
“Huh?” Tossing his eyes towards the
aisle behind them, he nervously repeated,
His heart leaping into his throat,
Russell casually moved on, as if nothing had happened. Seconds later Terriyon’s mom
appeared, pushing a shopping cart laden with groceries.
“You find it?” Shaking his head, Terriyon
scoured the wall of deli meats.
“What you been doin’ then?” She
accosted. “Right here boy! Can’t you read?”
“Yeah,” Terriyon muttered, reaching for the
package of smoked ham and they walked off.
His heart bleeding, Russell watched them
leave, everything in him wanting to follow. They were half way up the aisle when
he heard Terriyon say,
“I gotta pee.” His mother expressing
frustration, Russell almost fainted when he heard her say,
“You better hurry up, I’m about to get in line!”
With a flick of his eyes towards
Russell, Terriyon dashed past him towards the bathrooms. Waiting until his
mother was well out of sight, Russell made haste to the bathrooms.
Standing at the urinals, Terriyon
was actually peeing, his eyes down on his steady flow. Was
he here because he really needed to pee or was this the chance of a lifetime?
Taking another risk, Russell walked to a urinal closest to the boy. Reaching in
his pants, he pulled his hardening dick out and pointed it at the urinal.
Seconds passed, Terriyon ’s flow eventually ebbing until they were both just
His eyes straight ahead, Russell could
hear the blood rushing in his ears, his heart was beating so loud. Now what? He thought, both of them still standing. After what seemed
an eternity, Russell dared to look down. When he saw the boy’s growth proudly
erect he let out a surprised gasp.
Without thinking, he reached out,
encircling the boy’s hardness in his hand. With an audible gasp, Terriyon
actually stepped back, his eyes nevertheless glued on his dick. His boy dick a
solid projectile of hard flesh, it swelled in Russell’s hand.
Time of the essence, Russell slipped his
hand up the boy’s hard as steel pipe a couple of times then, with great
effort, released it.
“Come to my place,” He whispered,
his own dick hard as a fence post. Terriyon said nothing, his eyes
glancing at the door.
When he returned home, he was so filled
with emotions, he couldn’t really function. Going through the motions, he put
his groceries up, his head whirring as he absently worked. God,
if that gorgeous boy shows up, I’m fucked, he thought. He’s
not coming, he kept saying, trying to lessen the blow should the boy not
Hours passed, Russell’s desire slowly
turning to dire sadness as the evening approached. The air slightly chilled, he
refused to close his door, still hoping the boy might show. He’d just made a
pot of coffee in preparation for his even shows when a nervous shadow appeared
in his door. Still wearing the same blue t-shirt and low hanging shorts he’d
worn at the grocery store, he peered into the door. Russell was so unprepared
for the boy’s appearance, he almost forgot to let him in.
His brain finally kicking in gear, he
ran for the door, pushing it open so fast he almost banged the boy’s nose.
With a quick glance over his shoulder, Terriyon looked up at Russell, then
passed under his outstretched arm to nervously stand in his living room.
Closing the door behind him, Russell
turned to face the brave little soldier. “Hey,” he quietly greeted, smiling
at the boy. Terriyon’s eyes darting up at him, they darted around the room,
nervously checking things like a cornered field mouse. Gushing, Russell blinked,
amazed the little vision was really in his living room.
“How much time you have?” He said,
walking further into the room. Glancing at Russell’s clock, Terriyon finally
“My mother don’t know I’m here.”
“What did you tell her?” Shifting
his weight from one foot to the other, Terriyon looked anxiously at the door. He’s going to bolt, Russell thought, disheartened.
Without thinking, he reached between the
boy’s legs, deftly fondling his concealed package. Leaping, Terriyon stepped
back, looking at his groin like he’d been scalded, then up at Russell.
“I have to go,” He said, heading for
the door. His first inclination to let him leave, Russell couldn’t bear losing
the heavenly creature again.
you stay a few minutes?” He called, following the boy. “Don’t you want me
to suck it?” And with that, he reached around the boy, sliding his hand in his
oversized shorts until it rested on the extending growth in his briefs.
Trembling, Terriyon paused, his eyes fixed on what Russell’s hand was doing in
Making haste, Russell popped the boy’s
shorts open, his heart racing when they fell about his scraggily ankles. The
same ass he’d seen running away from the door that day inches away, he swooned
at its outline through the boy’s snug briefs.
Emitting a soft gasp, Terriyon shuddered
when Russell’s hand slipped inside, encircling his rapidly hardening boy tool
once more. Terriyon was so breathtakingly adorable, Russell felt weak in the
knees. Fighting the urge to grab the boy and ram his tongue down his throat, he
gently massaged his wickedly hard growth, praying he wouldn’t leave.
After a few minutes stroking, he heard the boy’s breathing picking up as his smallish hips edged forward. Not wanting to spook the boy he quietly circled around him to kneel before his anxious tool. Before Terriyon could protest, he’d enclosed his achingly hard inches in his mouth...
"Yo, wassup? We doing this or
not?” Glancing at the boy, Terriyon felt his ire rise.
“You late,” He spat, taking a seat.
“Don’t hate the playa, hate the
game,” Damion quipped, turning a chair backwards and spreading his spindly
legs about the seat.
“Whatever. You finished those
“Whoa. What’s up with you? Am I
feeling a bit of the green-eyed monster
from this way?” Damion smirked, swerving his hands in Terriyon’s direction.
“Why yo’ mouth always gotta be goin’?”
“Told you, cain’t be hatin’ on me
because my game’s tight,” Damion quipped, a smug look on his face.
“Oh, what’s that supposed to
mean?” Ignoring him, Damion reached in his back pack. Pulling his math book
out, he plopped it on the desk.
“No, tell me,” Terriyon pressed, his
“It ain’t nothin’,” Damion said,
opening his book.
“I ain’t feelin’ this shit
today,” Terriyon scowled, gathering his things. Eyebrows rising, Damion looked
at him as he stood.
“What… you leaving?” Terriyon said
nothing, angrily slamming his belongings in his back pack. “Because of what I said? Wow, ok, I see somebody on the rag today.” Glowering at him,
Terriyon fought the urge to pummel him. “But ok, I’ll tell you. All I’m
sayin’ is that it’s too bad you and Russell ain’t tight like us. But I
didn’t mean to rub it in,” Damion said, that smug grin on his face.
“Fuck you Damion! I don’t know why I
waste my time with you! All you do is run yo’ BIG mouth but you ain’t got game. Whatever you thinking, I’m sure I could blow you out the
“Everybody that’s kickin’ it with
Russell after school, raise your hand,” Damion goaded. Looking around the
empty classroom he slowly raised his hand. “Oh… what’s this? It’s just moi?” Giggling, he slapped his hand on the desk.
“That’s why yo’ ass is flunkin’
math!” A sullen look on his face, Terriyon shook his head.
“What’s math got to do with it?”
“Because yo’ little ho ass always
gettin’ fucked and not doing your math assignments.”
“Uh… you don’t know what
we do. And maybe it ain’t me but my tutor!
He’s all uptight because he can’t get none, so he’s a lousy tutor.”
“Damn! You so immature! And you
don’t know shit about my sex
“Oh really? How many people gettin’
busy today? Raise yo’ hands,” Damion taunted, raising his hand. Suddenly
face to face with the smug boy, Terriyon snapped through clenched teeth,
“Who you think called moi
yesterday?” When Damion’s
eyebrows raised, he gleefully added, “Who got game
Irked, Damion said nothing. Why was Russell messing around with Terriyon and what did that mean for
him? Regretting his previous gloating, he couldn’t afford to let Terriyon
see him sweat.
“Yeah, whatever. We doing this or
“You did your assignments?” Opening
his notebook Damion produced the work he’d been assigned, that smug look on
his face again. Sitting, Terriyon started their session, secretly smiling inside
at his small victory.
small rivalry developing ever since the boy’s encounter with Russell, they’d
been competing for the man’s attention. Secure in his knowledge Russell wanted
him, Damion’s confidence had been rattled by Terriyon’s revelation.