Author: admin

Track and Field is a team sport,
until you step onto the track to do what you do.

Two boys who face each other across the track
each week, don’t know a thing about one another.

When one of the two goes missing,
the other one needs to find out why.

Prologue:

Track and field isn’t a sport where most people think of competitors bonding. The word competition brings to mind a desire to win. There are a dozen teams, and in excess of five hundred competitors at larger track meets.

One of the first events that will be run, once the track meet is under way, is the hundred-meter-dash. The race creates its own excitement. When the starter’s pistol fires, the race is over, almost before it starts. Everyone stands to see who makes it across the finish line first, after the most thrilling ten seconds in sports.

Sprinters are a different breed from other athletes. Temperamental, Superstitious, and heaven help you if you dare to get in the sprintersr space while he is preparing for a race. After the hundred yard dash is run, the winner is jubilant. Everyone else is a loser.

It’s the story that’s present in all sports. The winner goes home to celebrate victory. The losers go back to look for a way to get better, faster.

In Sea of Tranquility, two sprinters develop a friendship away from the track, under quite unusual circumstances.

After the fastest sprinter in the city, stops appearing at track meets. Levi Cordoba benefits, because of Moony’s absence. He now wins the hundred, after becoming accustomed to finishing second to the faster Moony. It has not left Levi feeling good about winning.

Unable to get answers about the boy’s disappearance from Moony’s teammates, Levi decides to investigate on his own. What he finds out is disturbing. He isn’t sure what to do, but he has to do something.

The City’s Speedsters

Terry Brown is an athlete, a good student, and he’s always been a good son, and the apple of his mother’s eye.

His father, like most working fathers, is gone from the house most of each day. He’s doing his best to cure the ills of man, while trying to keep the peace.

Mrs. Brown is a housewife. Most of her days are spent at the house. Emily was born in Shreveport, Louisiana. Her one claim to fame as a child, was when visitors to her house said, ‘Your mama is, hands down, the best cook hereabouts.’

This opinion, according to the folks who sat at Elsie Johnson’s table, received no argument. Folks receiving Elsie’s jams, jellies, and canned goods, that she put up each year, felt lucky to receive them. Elsie’s soups, casseroles, and her cobblers, never failed to perk up someone under the weather.

Over the years, many folks, friends and strangers a like, found themselves sitting at Elsie’s table, in good times and in bad. If a family fell on hard times, and couldn’t feed their own, they were sent to the Johnson house, where they were met with smiles, and an open door. Elsie didn’t need to ask why they were there. It was understood, they’d be staying for dinner.

It didn’t hurt a lick, Elsie’s husband, Jubal Johnson, was a Louisiana farmer, father of Emily, and he supplied the food for the table in his kitchen. He’d been heard calling the table his, more than once, but everyone knew whose table it was. Jubal might argue the point, if he wasn’t busy eating, and making certain everyone went away fat and sassy.

The Johnsons were wealthy in a way that didn’t involve their bankbook. They believed in sharing that wealth, and there was no greater joy for the Johnsons, than when they watched hungry folks eat their fill.

Elsie’s daughter, Emily, was an eager student, learning the secrets of her mother’s cooking. At six and seven, she stood on a chair, she pulled up next to the stove, to watch her mother add a pinch of this, a dash of that, to whatever was cooking for that evenings supper.

By ten and eleven, Emily was coming close to being able to capture the flavors her mother coaxed out of the food. By the time she was thirteen and fourteen, when a guest at their table complimented a dish, it wasn’t unusual for Elsie to say, “Emily fixed that. She’s becoming a wonderful cook.”

The reply that followed, “Emily takes after her mama.”

Now, twenty-five years later, Emily is said to be, one of the best cooks on the Southside of Chicago. She put to work all the secrets her mother showed her. There were often guests at Elsie’s table too, and word had gotten around..

Mr. Alvin Brown, husband of Emily, father of Terry, Al to his friends, was the son of a Baptist preacher. His father’s church was in Batesville.

Victims of Chicago’s suburban sprawl, Batesville and Alvin’s father’s church, were buried under that highway. Along the way, the idea parishioners had, Alvin is going to take his daddy’s church, once his daddy’s gone, was buried too.

Al went to college in the South, LSU. He met Emily Johnson there, and he had cause to sit at Emily’s mother’s table, because, when you court a Louisiana girl, you are forced to court her parents, too. It’s not how it was done in Chicago, but Al made an exception, when it came to Emily.

Terry Brown was the result of his father courting his mother. There would be no brothers or sisters to join him in the well-kept house. He never regretted having been born. As children went, Terry was a happy child. He followed his parent’s example, and he didn’t break too many of the family’s rules. The one time he did stray a bit from the straight and narrow, earned him the name Moony.

It’s how Terry was known to his friends, and to the competition, much to the chagrin of his parents. While Terry could hit a baseball a country mile, his sport was track and field. His specialty, the hundred-meters.

Some athletes called him a one event wonder. He was confined to the one event he excelled in, because of a physical problem that prevented him from running the longer sprints. He also started the four by hundred relay.

The doctor advised Terry’s father, “See to it he sticks to the hundred. I’m afraid if he runs the longer sprints, his career will be short lived. As I see it, running the hundred should be OK, but we’ll see as time goes on.”

Terry stuck to what his father told him. The hundred was his race, and it was no hardship to sticking to the race he ran best. Moony was the fastest school boy Chicago. All the sprinters knew his name.

Moony knew, no one wins them all, and in the race he lost, he’d blown his start, and lost the race by one step. Buckling down at practice, he spent an hour a day on his starts. He wouldn’t blow another one.

Moony filled many an official timer’s watch with 9.9s this season. Moony Brown was a gifted runner, and when he stepped on the track, every eye was on him. If someone wasn’t watching, the person next to him would give him a nudge. Being the sprinter the other sprinters wanted to beat, didn’t bother Moony Brown.

Since his junior year, Moony was the man in the hundred. College recruiters had been ringing his phone constantly, since he ran his first 9.9 hundred. Ten flat was a very good hundred, but 9.9 separated the men from the boys.

Moony filled many an official timer’s watch with 9.9s this season. Moony Brown was a gifted runner, and when he stepped on the track, every eye was on him. If someone wasn’t watching, the person next to him would give him a nudge. Being the sprinter that the other sprinters wanted to beat, didn’t bother Moony Brown a bit.

* * * * *

When Moony stopped showing up at track meets, most sprinters, were aware that he didn’t step on the track, when the hundred-meter was called.

His teammates knew, but weren’t talking.

Moony Brown’s father spoke to Coach Moore, telling him, “I don’t want this information spread around. It will only cause trouble.”

Coach Moore told his troops, “Don’t be spreading this around. If someone asks you, play dumb. That won’t take much effort for most of you.”

They’d been told before the next track meet, “Anyone asks you about Moony, shrug, and say nothing. We aren’t here to gossip. Run your events and stick with the rest of the team, once you’ve run your event.”

Everyone was clear on that. The most reliable performer on their team, was no longer on the team. He no longer stepped onto the track, and his name was no longer announced. The points he routinely earned, now went to another hundred man, on another team. He lost once that season, finishing second to Levi Cordoba. He’d won the rest of his races, until he stopped coming to track meets.

Without Moony starting the four by one hundred relay, setting the pace, the relay team was an also-ran. They didn’t always win with Moony, but now they didn’t even place or show.

As dependable as Moony was to win the hundred, that’s how dependable the coach was in keeping his word to Moony’s father. His boys stayed silent.

* * * * *

If things were bad for Moony’s track team, it was no picnic at the Brown house either. Terry’s future was tied to his speed. Being the fastest hundred man in one of America’s largest cities, meant colleges, far and wide, were courting him for their school.

The phone had gone still at the Brown house. College recruiters knew what happened to Moony the morning after it happened. College recruiters were paid to know what was going on with boys they were recruiting, and they’d moved on to recruiting other sprinters now.

The phone calls that interrupted dinner most nights, stopped. It hadn’t been unusual for Terry to get off the phone with one recruiter, and before he sat back down, the phone rang again. It was almost funny, but there was no humor at the Brown house these days. No one was sure how it might turn out.

A future that once had seemed to be written in stone, was now in doubt, as Chicago’s fastest sprinter, sat in the front window of the family home, looking out on the world passing by the the front of the Brown house. There was no longer any joy at 1909 2nd Street, on the Southside of Chicago.

* * * * *

Levi Cordoba, one of the fastest sprinters in the city, wasn’t accustomed to sulking around. He had things to do, and places to go. But for several weeks, he’d felt s though he’d lost something. It hadn’t been his speed. He’d swept the sprint events six straight weeks in a row. Levi was on a tear.

Cordoba was odds on favorite to sweep the hundred and two hundred at the upcoming City Championship, and college recruiters all wanted to be Levi’s new best friend. Along with his speed, his grades would have any parents smiling.

As the track season was nearing its end, most athletes were looking for a college that would take them, but Levi had narrowed his choice down to the two dozen schools who were offering him full scholarships. They loved his speed, but his near perfect scholastic record was a bonus colleges didn’t expect to come with every athlete. Levi offered the college he went to, the entire package, and he was a recruiters dream to boot. He was polite, unassuming, and easy to talk to.

Levi was ready to go. He’d never been in better shape. He’d lost weight in his first two years, as the track season progressed. With adding light weight training to his routine, he’d stayed at one hundred sixty-five pounds, on his six foot frame, and since before mid-season, he’d won every sprint race he’d started. Levi had never been in better shape, and a week after the City Championship Track Meet, he’d graduate from high school, and he was looking forward to life as a college students at whatever college he decided to go to.

He had his entire future in front of him, and he knew he was a lucky lad. Everything had gone just right, and he’d charge hard into whatever it was that awaited him. He rarely gave much thought to kids who were less fortunate than he was. He accepted he was fortunate, and he planned to make the most of it, just like any red-blooded American boy would.

Levi had a target on his back now, but that was nothing new. He hadn’t lost a two-hundred-meter race, since halfway through his junior season. He didn’t plan to lose one now, as his senior season was coming to an end. He’d been everyone’s pick to be the city’s fastest two hundred man, this season. Then, the man he finished second to in the hundred, stopped coming to track meets, and Levi no longer finished second to anyone. He’d become the city’s fastest man.

High school, and high school track, were coming to an end. That could have been what was bothering Levi. He was well-known, popular at school, and he made the right friends, while being close to no one. Making real friends, took time, and more energy that Levi had.

Levi greeted everyone with a wide warm smile. It’s what people loved about him. He didn’t mind smiling. You didn’t get far if you frowned all the time. People assumed he was g friendly, because he smiled.

A 4.0 grade point average, attention to detail, speed, and his friendliness, were what gave him the inside track on his future. They were all handy traits, but the friendliness did not extend to the track. When he stepped onto the track to prepare to race, Levi Cordoba was deadly serious.

There were no smiles or greetings for the competition, whether or not Levi recognized other sprinters. He wasn’t there to socialize, and no one mistakenly thought he was. He had come to win, and he usually did what he came to do. Except for a quick wave to the people in the stands, after he won, he went directly back to where his team was.

Levi was doing what his parents expected him to do, and leaving high school wasn’t a big deal. High school was about preparing him for college, and college would help to prepare him for a career, and eventually independence from both parents and his school days, and nothing about it bothered him.

There would be bigger fish to fry in college. His future would begin to take shape there. That had always been the plan. His last high school track season, while instrumental in getting him the scholarship he was after, was no big deal.

Until a few weeks ago, Levi was on the fast track. Everything was going as expected. There had been no surprises. As close as he was to graduating, he should have been pleased as punch, but he wasn’t, and he didn’t know why, but something was definitely bothering him.

Levi was in the best shape he’d ever been in. His coach added the weight training to his regimen. No muscle building, simply a way of keeping his muscles honed. Ready them for competition. Initially, Levi was indifferent to weight lifting. It was just part of his training.

Once he’d been at it for a couple of months, he liked the way it made him feel. It made him feel faster. The light weights were traded for heavier weights. His body lost any sign of being fleshy. He was tighter, leaner, harder, and he liked the way he looked.

Levi stayed at one hundred sixty-five pounds all season. Each of the previous three seasons, he’d lost from five to ten pounds by season’s end. He was sure, after weight training, he had no weight to lose.

Levi knew who Moony was, and he knew Moony was faster than he was in the hundred. A sprinter has his bad days, just like any athlete. Sprinters also had very good days, and Levi was waiting to put one of his best days, together with one of Moony’s bad days, and that’s the day he might win a hundred race. It wasn’t an obsession. It was simply on his list of things to do. He liked winning.

Remembering his junior year, Levi began beating some of the sprinters, who often finished in front of him. By the middle of his junior track season, Levi began winning the two-hundred-meter race. As a junior, he was beating seniors.

It gave him a good feeling, and when he got on the track in the two-hundred, he began to expect to win.

One day, after he’d started winning, Tim Hammond pulled off what was called an upset of the city’s top two-hundred-meter man. Levi made up his mind he’d lost his last two-hundred race. No one but Levi had finished first in the two-hundred, after he lost that race to Hammond. He knew the moral to the story. Be careful what you wish for, it might not end well.

Moony was in a different league, and Levi knew it. For Levi, the hundred was his second event. The two hundred was the race he trained to win, and Moony pulled off his first 9.9 as a junior. Ten flat was Levi’s best hundred, and he’d only run ten flat once. Everything had to go just right for him to run that fast.

Moony Brown ran ten flat on his bad day, beating Levi by two strides, while doing it. The one time Levi beat Moony, he didn’t think he’d become the city’s fastest sprinter, even when the winner of the hundred usually was given that title.

Levi didn’t expect to win the hundred, and he knew he was lucky to beat Moony once. Then, Levi started winning the hundred. He didn’t mind winning, but the city’s fastest hundred man wasn’t in those races. Moony missed six track meets over two months.

Levi won the hundred, because of Moony’s absence. He still won the two-hundred, and he was still the city’s fastest two-hundred man. When you added the four by two-hundred relay, which usually won, because Amalgamated had four very good two-hundred men, Levi left most major track meets with three gold medals in his pocket.

No one could take home more gold medals. Participation was limited to three events, which included any combination of field and running events that added up to three.

Levi had been called the city’s fastest high school sprinter more than once, in the past few weeks, This bothered him, because Levi knew it wasn’t true. The fastest sprinter, was the fastest hundred-meter man, and that wasn’t Levi Cordoba.

The week after Levi beat the city’s fastest hundred man, Moony threw down the gauntlet. Once he stepped onto the track a week later, his icy stare told the whole story. He intended to erase any doubt about who the fastest hundred man was. Moony Brown ripped off a 9.9, leaving Levi Cordoba in the dust.

The man who beat Moony the week before, could do no better than a 10.1, and a second place. It wasn’t a race. It was a rout. No one finished in the same zip code as Moony.

He’d done what he came to do. Few high school sprinters run a 9.9. Fewer yet disappeared after doing it. Moony Brown did both, with two thirds of the track season left ahead of the city’s track teams..

Chapter 2

Where’s Moony?

Levi was bothered by his continued good luck. No one said, Moony pulled his hamstring, or sprained his ankle. At least that would give Levi some idea how long Moony might be absent, but no one had said anything.

A hamstring pull would put him out for the rest of the season, but a strained hamstring wouldn’t. A sprained ankle might keep him out for a month to six weeks, depending on the severity of the sprain. Knowing nothing about Moony’s condition, meant he didn’t know how long he might be absent.

Each time Levi stepped on the track, before running the hundred, the first thing he did was look for Moony Brown. He continued to be absent, and after everyone picked him as the odds on favorite to win the hundred title at the city championships, Levi moved to the number one spot.

For six straight track meets, Moony hadn’t showed up, and Levi won each of those hundred-meter races. With only a few weeks left, until the city championships, time was running out.

According to the rules, even if Moony showed up at the city championships, he couldn’t run, if he didn’t qualify in the track meet a week before those championships.

Levi didn’t know if the rules could be set aside, if there was a good reason why Moony hadn’t been running. Certainly his official times would qualify him for any race he wanted to run, and rules were fickle, if officials saw the wisdom in bending one.

Levi kept his ears open for news about Moony, and he’d heard everything from, ‘He died,” to, ‘His mother died,’ to, ‘He broke his leg,’ to, ‘His mother broke her leg.’ It was high school, after all, and in high school, you believed half of what you saw, and none of what you heard, if you were smart.

When he asked one of Moony’s teammates,”Where’s Moony Brown?”

The reply was a shrug, with hands held our helplessly.

Could it be possible that the guy just disappeared off the face of the earth? What ever happened, no one was talking about it. Levi was a live and let live kind of a guy, but after winning the hundred, the first few races where Moony didn’t run, Levi became more and more uneasy about it.

Levi considered walking over to Moony’s team to ask the coach, “Where’s Moony Brown,’ but he valued his life. The guy who was winning the races Moony would have won, didn’t want to get too close to his teammates. They might think he was gloating.

The hundred was to sprinters, what the mile was to distance runners. If you won the mile, especially if you set a new city record, you were the king of distance men. If you won the hundred, you were the king of the sprinters, the fastest man. It was a coveted title, when it was deserved.

No one looked to see who won the two hundred. That’s the way it was, and Levi accepted that. He ran the two-hundred, because that was his race, and only his parents looked to see who won the two-hundred.

When Levi was running the hundred against Moony Brown, he often found himself looking at the six foot prototype of a hundred-meter dash man. His chest was bigger, his arms were better defined, and where the rubber meets the road, Moony had big muscular thighs. Levi’s thighs were longer, the musculature not nearly as prominent as Moon’s.

When Moony caught Levi studying him, he gave him a nod, and a confident little smile that said, ‘This is my race. You’re in my house now,’ not unlike how Levi reacted to other two-hundred-meter men.

When Moony looked at Levi, he knew who he was. He was the city’s second fastest man. He knew, Levi Cordoba had a lock on the two-hundred-meter race, just like he had a lock on the hundred-meters. The nod Moony gave Levi, was a sign of respect, and Levi would give a similar nod back.

Respect for your competition was important, because the guy finishing second this week, might be finishing first the next time around. Levi had beaten Moony once. He didn’t think it made him the city’s fastest man.

Levi acknowledged no one, when he was ready to race. He took to nodding back at Moony, after Moony initiated the nods. Moony only nodded at Levi. They both knew who was going to win, and which would finish second. Most people in the stadium knew which boy was about to win the hundred. Moony Brown was, and had been, the fastest hundred man in the city.

Levi hated losing, but it was easier, when you knew you were likely to lose, before the starter fired his gun.

The one time Levi beat Moony Brown in the hundred, they’d given each other a nod before the race, but Moony had broken the silence between them. As Levi realized he had won, he waved to the crowd, acknowledging their cheers. When he turned around to leave the track, after the race, Moony was there.

“Nice race, Cordoba,” he said.

Moony extended his hand for the winner of the race to shake.

Levi’s thought to himself, he’s got more class than I do.

Levi wasn’t in the habit of noticing other sprinters. For a second, he regretted it, but it was what it was. He was there to win races, not to socialize. If his competition wanted a friend, he needed to get a dog.

On that day, the day Levi beat Moony in the hundred, Levi Cordoba found himself admiring Moony Brown. He wished he was that cool. The respect he had for the city’s fastest man had grown, after their handshake.

It was later that Levi found out, Moony slipped coming out of the starting blocks. It allowed Levi to get out two steps ahead of Moony. He won the race by less than a single stride, and it had taken Levi’s best start ever to finally beat Moony Brown.

Knowing the truth about his win, Levi took congratulations in stride.

* * * * *

Terry sat in the window of 1909 2nd Street, where he’d lived all his life. These days he only left the house to see his doctors, and they did him little good. They’d saved his life, but left him paralyzed. He watched the cars, who came down 2nd Street, and turned left to get to the main drag.

Once in a while, a police car, or an ambulance cut down 2nd Street, to get around a traffic snarl on the main street that cut across Southside. Once a transit bus turned down 2nd Street, for the same reason.

His mother brought him breakfast at eight thirty, helping Terry out of bed, and over to the chair in front of the window. He would sit there until she helped him get back into bed in the evening. He could watch the TV from his bed.

It was hard for Emily Brown to see her son become helpless. A few weeks before, everything was peaches and cream, but in one of those instants no one sees coming, Terry’s life changed, which altered all the lives at the Brown house.

Alvin, Terry’s father, had insisted Terry eat dinner at the table, when Al

was able to get home for dinner.

He’d told Emily, “Allowing the boy to sit in that window all day, wasn’t doing him a bit of good. There needs to be some normalcy in his life. No one died, and we’re still a family, in spite of Terry’s injury.”

That’s the day when Terry began eating dinner with his parents again. It was awkward getting him out of the wheelchair, and making him comfortable enough for him to eat, but once they figured out the logistics, it was no big deal.

Terry was a senior who made good grades, when he turned down an offer to allow him to go to school, Terry opted for lessons being sent to his house. They would allow him to use a computer for his homework and tests. Any written work would be picked up at his house, if it couldn’t be dropped off at school.

His coach and some of his teammates had come to the hospital, once they got the news about Moony. He’d accepted that sort of thing as necessary, for them to see he was alive and out of danger. The problem with his teammates, they thought they were indestructible. Looking at Moony had them question their indestructibility. The looks on their faces showed it.

The looks on their faces had Moony asking them not to come back. He would need a while to rehabilitate himself, and then he’d be back, but everyone knew that there wasn’t enough time for him to make a comeback this season, and graduation would end shortly after the final track meet of the season.

Since coming home from the hospital, he allowed the coach to call once a week to check on him. He asked that his teammates not visit, and except for a teacher delivering his assignments to the front door of their house, and taking away his homework and other things that were due, no one came to see him.

His father made it clear to the coach and to school officials, “The less said about this incident, the better. If you don’t want to be stirring up a hornets nest, you’ll simply not comment on Terry’s injury. It could head off violence.”

Terry knew that what happened to him was an accident, a mistake. The boy who shot him, hadn’t meant to shoot the city’s fastest sprinter. The reaction to him shooting the city’s fastest sprinter was swift. He’d been shot, and killed, a few days after he shot Moony.; Moony blamed himself for the boys death. He didn’t send a message, there is to be no retribution for my accidental shooting.

After the fact, he knew that’s what he should have done, but he had still been dealing with being paralyzed from the waist down. His wound hadn’t gotten well enough for him to be off the medications they were giving him, and in that atmosphere, he never gave a thought to the repercussions over him being shot.

Moony Brown didn’t need to wait to grow up to become somebody. Moony Brown was somebody in Southside. Moony was leaving his mark on high school track and field. He’d become Chicago’s fastest human. No one shot someone who had become somebody. If you did, there were people who would deal with you.

The word to his team, ‘I’ll be back,’ were uttered, without anyone, who had half a brain, believing it. The boy could walk. How could he possibly run again?

He wouldn’t go back to his track team. He’d be lucky to walk again. The doctors said, “Maybe.’

Most of the doctors didn’t know who Terrance Brown was. The ones that recognized his name, did so from what was written in the sports pages of one of the local newspapers, but few linked Terrance Brown with Moony Brown. Unlike football, and basketball, track and field wasn’t widely followed, if it wasn’t an Olympic year, and then, more people might look to see who made the US team.

Doctors wanted to be able to tell Terry, “There’s a chance you might walk again.”

But doctors didn’t like to lie to their patients. If there was a chance he could, there was a good chance he wouldn’t, but they wouldn’t say that either.

in high school, if you were the teams fastest man, people would know your name. Once you disappeared from their midst, what you were was part of the student body memory. The student body had a habit of moving on from high school, and the longer you were not heard from, the less you were missed, until no one remembers your name.

Terry gave thought to this reality, after being shot. A team was a little different from the entire student body. When you’re the guy scoring a big hunk of the points the team scored in a track meet, you’re missed in a different way.

Your team scores fewer points without you, winning fewer events. They would think of Moony and what he meant to the team, but no one wants to see a cripple, and Terry had no desire to be seen as crippled.

It worked out nice that way.

Chapter 3

Emily Brown has remained cheerful in the face of adversity. Her son Terry is withdrawn, and no longer communicates the way he once did. She worries about her son, who sits in a front window of the house most of each day. The best she can do is, keep him well fed, and be as cheerful as she’s able. In time, her hope is that her son will rebound.

“Terry, do you want your lunch?” his mother asked.

“No, Mama. I’m not hungry.”

“I’ll make us some tuna sandwiches. It’s your favorite. You know you need to eat. The doctor said…..”

“Mama, I was there. I know what the doctor said. I’m not hungry, you badgering me isn’t going to give me an appetite,” Terry said, more forcefully than he meant it to be. “I’m sorry, Mama. I know you mean well.”

Terry had lost control of everything, and now he was losing control of his mind. He’d always known he lived on mean streets, but it had never applied to him. Everyone knew him. Everyone rooted for him. Now, the entire universe had narrowed to one large window.

“Terry, do you want a piece of fruit?” she asked.

“No, ma’am. I’m not hungry, Mama,” he tried more politely.

“You going to sit in there and sulk all day?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Terry said, as his mom came to the door.

“You know what the doctor said? He knows best,” she said.

“He don’t live in here, Mama. I live in here. I want them damn braces, and if you make me crawl over there to get them, I’ll crawl, Mama, so you may as well let me have them.”

“You heard the doctor as well as I did,” his mom said.

“Where’d you put them, Mama? I’m going to walk again. I may as well get started.”

“I put them up. I know you, young man. If I’d left them in plain view, you’d have had them on by now, and you know as well as I do, you haven’t healed yet, and until you do, no braces. That’s final.”

Terry scooted as far out on the edge of his chair as he dare go. He wasn’t suicidal, not yet anyway, and he wouldn’t do anything that did more damage, than was already done. He knew what the doctor said. He’d been there. The doctor was taking about some damage to his spine, which could heal on its own. He called it a nick. Terry nicked himself shaving. It never stopped him from walking, or running. This nick wouldn’t stop him. He’d made up his mind. He would walk again. It didn’t matter what doctors said.

The doctor said, “Your paralysis might be for good, but more likely, it’s temporary. Your spine needs time to heal, and we’ll know more once it has healed. You need to be patient, Terrance. Give it time to heal, and with a little good luck, this time next year, you might be walking again. If we take our time now, that outcome is more likely. We just don’t know for sure right now.”

He’d show the doctors. He’d show everyone. He wasn’t a quitter, he’d been injured before. He healed fast, and he would heal this time too. What he needed to do was get out of his chair to begin exercising, so he could heal.

A while was a long time to a high school kid. His life hung in the balance. If he couldn’t get back what he’d lost, his life would suck big fat ones, forever and a day. He couldn’t wait. He wasn’t going to wait.

“Mama, I want those braces. They’re mine, and I want you to give them to me. I’ll never walk again if I don’t start walking soon.”

“I heard you the first time, Terrance. You heard what I said. You think a responsible mother is going to let her son cripple himself for life, because he’s too impatient to wait for his body to heal, before he starts making impossible demands on it again? If you ever hope to go back to what you like doing, you better learn to wait. The time will come for you to exert your will over your legs.”

“Mama, it’s been two months. I’ve been out of the hospital a month. I want my braces. I want to walk,” her son insisted.

“I know you do, Baby. It’s not time yet. When the doctor says it’s time, then, I’ll gladly help you put those braces on. I’ll walk with you. I’ll hold you up. I’ll carry you home, when you get too tired, but I will not give you the braces, until the doctor says you are ready for them.”

“Mama!” Terry yelled, like when he was a little boy, and he fell down, trying to walk, and he skinned his knees.

Remembering her son trying to walk as a child, once brought a smile to her face. It was a typical memory for a mother. With Terry in a wheelchair, thinking about him learning to walk all over again, wasn’t going to generate many smiles this time. Learning to walk a second time wasn’t how life should be,

Her son’s demands subsided each day for the past week, and they subsided again. Terry went back to watching soap operas. She didn’t know how he could stand watching those silly damn things, but they took his mind off of his braces, so she could return to the kitchen to caramelize onions and garlic for tonight’s casserole.

If she couldn’t cook, she’d have gone crazy over the last two months. Somehow, cooking took her away from the every day, the mundane, and the overwhelming sadness at the Brown house.

Emily Brown was certain things would gradually improve, but it wouldn’t come soon enough for her.

* * * * *

Levi had his priorities straight. He wanted the full ride, because he’d earned it. He was a member of the honor society, the journalism staff, and he belonged to Mr. Rush’s college prep club, which was by invitation only. Levi had been invited, but during track season, if they didn’t schedule such events after track practice, Levi wasn’t expected to attend. He had bigger fish to fry.

“Mr. Turner, how would I go about tracking down a guy from another school?” Levi asked.

“You know his name, of course,” Mr. Turner said.

“Yeah, he’s a track guy. I had a need to find out what happened to him. I know his name. I know his school, but that’s all I know about him. How would I go about finding him.”

His journalism teacher leaned back in his chair, forming a tent under his chin with his two index fingers and his thumbs.

“Let’s back up a step or two. Ask yourself the questions that are most pertinent to your investigation,” Mr. Turner said.

“Who, what, where, why, when?” Levi said.

“Very good. Who is it you are looking for, Mr. Cordoba?”

“His name is Moony Brown. We ran against each other in the hundred, which means he’s another sprinter. He goes to Southside. He is the fastest hundred man in the city. For the last six track meets, he hasn’t shown up. I need to know what happened to him.”

Mr. Turner could see the angst on Levi’s face. This other runner had left some kind of impression on him, and being the fastest hundred man in the city meant, Levi lost to the boy he wanted to find. Mr. Turner thought that it was very strange for Levi to go looking for his nemesis.

“Who is the city’s fastest hundred man, when your competitor doesn’t compete?” Mr. Turner asked.

He saw the discomfort in Levi’s face, once the question was asked.

“I am,” Levi said.

This made his inquiry that much more curious. The boy who could beat Levi in the hundred, stopped coming to track meets, and so races he would have lost to that boy, he now won. A very curious inquiry indeed.

“The boy who could beat you, doesn’t race any longer,” Mr. Turner said, sitting back up in his chair. “That could bode well for you, Mr. Cordoba.”

“It could, but my winning those races means something has happened to Moony Brown. He’s a tough kid. He didn’t decide he was tired of running, Mr. Turner. Something had to happen to him. I want to know what.”

Mr. Turner stood up, looking at Levi, and turning to look out at the teacher’s parking lot. He stood silent for several minutes.”

“And going over to his school, and asking what happened to this Moony Brown, isn’t the way you want to go, I suspect.”

“No, I wouldn’t feel comfortable doing that. I’ve asked a couple of his teammates. They aren’t talking. Whatever happened to him, has his teammates clamming up over it. That’s why I thought you’d have some idea about it.”

Mr. Turner turned from the window, and he sat back at his desk, pulling a note pad over in front of him, and picking up his ink pen.

“I’ll give you a note. This is for a guy I know at the City news. Go down there, when you have time, and ask for Sid Cleaver. Hand him the note, and he’ll help you out,” Mr. Turner said, finishing the note, and handing it to Levi.

The following day, telling the track coach he had some school business to take care of, Levi took the number 9 bus that went within a block of the City News Building. He went in the main entrance, and he was directed to go to the third floor. Sid was in his office.

Levi said hello, introduced himself, and handed Sid the note.

“OK, let’s start with the name,” he said.

“Moony Brown,” Levi said.

“That shouldn’t be hard. If we have anything on him in our files, the computer should spit it right out. Oh, yes. It appears he is the city’s speed in the hundred. I don’t follow track that closely. There are mentions of him all through the sports section. Always in the spring. Always about the hundred. The races he won, and one feature on him and Southside’s track program,” Sid said. “And you being Mr. Cordoba. Levi according to the small print. Are listed as the two hundred victor. Every week it seems. Here you are listed as the winner of the hundred and two hundred. That was late in March. It seems you’ve consistently won both races, almost every week. Ops! This doesn’t look so good. Slow Field Wins hundred in 10.1. You won. I thought 10.1 and 10.0 were the gold standard. Enlighten me. When did 10.1 become a slow field?”

“Moony ran a 9.9 the last time he competed. If he didn’t run 9.9, he ran ten flat. I only beat him once, I ran my best time ever, 10.0. He beat me every other time we ran against each other, until late March. He hasn’t appeared at another track meet. No one is talking. Mr. Turner sent me to you. He said you'[d find out what happened to him, and why it hasn’t been all over the sports pages.”

“I’m having difficulty wrapping my mind around this. You are the beneficiary of Mr. Moony’s largess, and you want to know why? I’d think you’d be delighted.”

“There was anonymity in being the two-hundred champion. I’m not used to standing out, except after winning a race. It was short lived. I win both races each week, now, and no one has asked me once, ‘Didn’t Moony Brown use to win the hundred, like way faster than you?”

It bothers me not having any idea what happened to him. He’s a real guy. I use to run against him. People just don’t disappear,” Levi said.

“Everything was nice and neat. He won the hundred. You won the two-hundred. Then, everything changed in late March. I can run a check on local stories on Moony Brown, around that time. I can see you are adamant about finding out what happened to him. Once I begin running that check, I can’t guarantee that you’ll like what I find, Mr. Cordoba. You do understand that,” Sid said, “I’m not doing a search, if you aren’t prepared to find out what actually happened to your friend. Are we clear on that?”

“Do the search. I need to know,” Levi said.

“There is no guarantee we covered a story, if there is a story connected to his withdrawal from athletics. We get a hundred stories a day about bad things happening to good people. There is only so much space in a newspaper,” he said, starting to run his search.

“How to find a misplaced sprinter,” Sid said, typing away.

Screens kept changing images faster than Levi could follow.

“All I’m getting is what’s on the sports pages. I can copy articles that mention him. Do you want that? His name stops appearing in March. One might indicating he’s moved. Father could be military. Kids move all the time.”

“No, I know about him winning. I run against him,” Levi said.

“Yes, you do. ‘Levi Cordoba wins the hundred and two-hundred again. He’ll be the favorite to win both races in the city championships. You’re getting better write ups than he did, son,” Sid said, looking all of twenty-five or twenty-six. “You want to see if he’ll be running in the city championships maybe?”

“No, he won’t be running. He didn’t qualify,” Levi said.

“I figured you wanted to make sure he wasn’t going to pop up. Brown is a common name. I can go back, how long ago should I look back in our local section? Could be something newsworthy there. Give me the last date you saw him. I’ll work forward from there. I’ll search the name Brown, but there has to be a ton of Browns in Chicago.”

“Try six to eight weeks ago. That’s when he stopped coming to track meets. His team comes to the meets, Moony isn’t with them.”

“You know his proper name. Jim, Bob, George?”

“Moony is all I know,” Levi said.

“I’ll go back two months, and work our way forward,” Sid said, as things kept flashing across the computer screen. “Pulled hamstring is my guess. Maybe hurt himself in practice. That wouldn’t necessarily make the papers. I doubt we’d cover it. Sprinters often pull muscles. Distance men can run and run and run, and they don’t pull muscles that often. Sprinters, pulled hamstring goes with the territory. It’s like the elbow of a pitcher. Sooner or later, they all need that Tommy John surgery to repair their elbow. Sprinters pull hamstrings, and there might be a few lines about it in an article that isn’t about this kid or his school. You’d be surprised how little is said about routine events.”

Levi sat watching the computer monitor changing screens, while looking over Sid’s shoulder. Even if there was a story, How would they see it.

“Go back,” Levi yelped. No. No. Go back Back one more page. Yeah, there it is. It’s the right time frame.”

“Promising city sprinter shot on his way home from track practice,” Sid read.

“How did you spot that. I would never thought to search for the word promising,” Sid said.

“Sprinter. Promising City Sprinter. I saw the word sprinter,” Levi said.

“You and no news man I know would have caught that,” Sid said. “After a while, I realized Moony would be a nickname. Your man is Terrance Brown. Gives no information on his condition. There are so many shootings in the city.”

“That’s it. Nothing on his condition?”

“Here it is again. Promising sprinter goes home to 1909 2nd Street, from local hospital. There’s that damn work promising again. Says he is paralyzed from the waist down. There is no guarantee that Terrance Brown will ever walk again. Couldn’t ask for more. I’ll print this out. It has his address in the article, but someone has put the fix in on this story. It should have run on the sports page. That’s where the most interest would be, but it is just a few lines in the local section. Someone had to arrange to keep the shooting as low key as possible. His school? His parents? Parents wouldn’t have that kind of sway, unless his old man’s a politician. No wonder you didn’t hear about this. You know now.”

“Damn!” Levi said. “Paralyzed! I’d rather be dead than paralyzed.”

“Death is greatly overrated. I’d take the paralysis,” Sid said.

“Here’s another story. ‘Terrance Brown, well known local sprinter, and odds on favorite in any hundred-meter race held in the city, was gunned down last night, while on his way home from track practice. He was a block from his home at 1909 2nd Street.’ There’s his address again. I’ll print this article out too. ‘Only one shot was fired, and police indicate that Terry might have been mistaken for someone else, as he had no enemies, and was a popular athlete in his neighborhood. Doctors said, ‘He remains paralyzed from the waist down, and it’s impossible to say if Mr. Brown will walk again.’ He is in serious but stable condition, this article appeared before the article about him going home.”

“Shot. Is there a picture? His name is Moony,” Levi said. “It might not be the same guy. There are a lot of Browns in Chicago.”

“Promising sprinter, who has been missing from track meets, since the date of this shooting. It’s the same guy,” Sid said. “What are the odds of two promising sprinters with the same last name disappearing? It’s your guy all right, but how’d they keep it out of the sports pages. An editor could have made that decision. Saw it as a local news story. Everything done in a newsroom doesn’t always make sense,” Sid said. “Don’t tell anyone I said that.”

“Why would I talk to anyone in the newsroom?” Levi asked.

“That’s true. Here’s your picture. Article from two days after he was shot. It’s a good facial shot. School picture I’d guess. Terrance Brown, seventeen, was gunned down two nights ago, as he walked home from school, a half mile from his house. Doctors say that Mr. Brown is out of danger, but the young man faces the possibility of being paralyzed for the rest of his life, but it’s too soon to tell.”

“Man, what a bad break for a guy who has one thing going for him. He’s a fast as hell sprinter. This is your man?” Sid asked, moving back from the screen.

“That’s Moony Brown,” Levi said, standing to get a good look at the picture.

“Moony is a nickname your guy earned somewhere along the line. His name is Terrance Brown, and I think my work here is done. Are you going to go see him? He’d probably be shocked to see you. I’m shocked that you came here looking for him.”

They turned to look at each other’s face.

“That’s it. You’ve got what you came for,” Sid said. “You don’t look very happy about it. You’re the guy who wins the hundred now.”

“Yeah, I’m the guy,” Levi said. “Look, thanks for helping me.”

“Not a problem. When you get back to school, ask Mr. Turner if anyone has put a bull frog in his desk lately,” Sid said. “He never knew it was me. He probably suspected me though. I thought that kind of thing was funny, way back when.”

“I’ll do that,” Levi said, unable to hide a smile.

Sid was a prankster.

Chapter 4

Two days later, and one week before the city track and field championships.

Levi never took a transit bus before. Had he asked a friend to drive him to Southside, he’d have gotten a ride, but he didn’t ask a friend to take him to Southside. This was a journey he was taking alone. He carefully planned what he was going to do, and then, he implemented his plan.

Levi could have had a car in his junior year, but he didn’t want a car. He’d worked hard to get where he was, and a car might have been nice. It would have saved him a lot of time, but Levi knew, a car would be a major distraction. He wanted to keep his grades up, and work hard to be a major force on his school’s track team. That way he’d get the scholarship he was after, and be able to go to the school of his choice. His parents could buy him a car, once he went to college.

No matter who he asked to drive him to Southside, there would be the inevitable question, why do you want to go there?

‘Why in the world do you want to go there?’

It wasn’t a question Levi was prepared to answer. He wasn’t sure of the answer. Sid had asked, ‘Are you going to go see him?’

He didn’t answer. He knew the answer to that question, but the why question had no answer. He needed to see Moony Brown. In some crazy, unexplainable way, his life as a sprinter, had some how become entangled with Moony’s life as a sprinter, and he didn’t know why.

He needed to see Moony. Once he talked to him, he’d be able to answer the question why. After visiting him, if he still didn’t know, that would put an end to that. He could move on without the answer, even though, having the answer seemed important to him now.

It was the first time he’d been sidetracked, for as far back as his memory went. There was an answer to every question, and life went in one continuous straight line. His life appeared to be as close to perfect as life gets. Nothing bothered Levi, up until now, and the more he thought about Moony Brown, the more unsettled he became. Levi knew he was on the road to success. There was no doubt about it, but that road had suddenly swerved to the south.

It was an accident. There was no reason for it. There was no reason for Levi to let it bother him, but it did bother him. He was most likely going to sweep the hundred and two-hundred, at the city championships, and he needed to talk to the guy who should win the hundred at the city championships.

Did there have to be a reason?

Levi admired Moony Brown’s style. He needed to tell him that. All there communicating was mostly done at a distance. Levi wanted to talk to Moony, and not from across eight lanes of a track. He liked how Moony carried himself. He had the kind of confidence Levi didn’t possess. If anything, Levi should have been the more confident of the two, but he wasn’t, and he didn’t know why.

Levi had it made. If he hadn’t been born with lightning speed, his road to success might not have been paved with gold, but he was smart, handsome, and charming, which would have carried the day, if his number one asset, hadn’t become the speed that had him winning most two hundred races he ran.

When all was said and done, if Levi hadn’t been sought after by dozens of colleges, because of his speed, he’d have been sought after because of his grades, and if all else had failed him, his parents were prosperous enough to send him to any college he pleased, even won that didn’t dangle their scholarships in front of him.

According to Moony Brown’s address, his family wasn’t that prosperous. He lived on the other side of the tracks, according to polite company. Moony had one thing going for him that could secure his future, until, in a moment of madness, his future dissolved on the asphalt street that ran in front of his house.

Levi assumed these things were true. He couldn’t put himself in Moony’s shoes. He hoped it wasn’t true, but the address told him a lot. He’d heard heartbreaking stories of children who didn’t make it home from school on the Southside. All children didn’t get to grow up on the Southside. This was a reality he’d never given much thought to, until now.

Levi had no feeling for the guys he ran against. Once he stepped onto the track, he had only one thing on his mind. Winning whatever race he was running, and he usually did that. Levi was on the fast track to a good life. Everyone took that for granted. He never saw it any other way.

Even guys on his team struggled to make the grades that opened o clear path to some kind of a future. Things went right for Levi. The wind was at his back. It was safe where he lived, and all children made it hoe from school alive.

If he’d fallen down on his way to success, or if a faster boy moved into his school district, Levi would have been OK. If his grades hadn’t been enough to make the Honor Society, and there were no scholarship offers, he’d have been OK. His future would still be the same, because his parents would see to it.

Moony Brown, the fastest sprinter in the city, had been gunned down on his way home from school. How could that be allowed to happen anywhere?

The fast track had led Levi to Southside. He was going to see the only boy who had beaten him that season. While Moony’s life was in the toilet, Levi’s senior year, became even better. His prospects had improve, because the fastest man in the city, couldn’t even walk onto the track.

That bothered Levi.

Watching out the window, the bus slowly moving south, Levi had time to give some thought to the races he ran. Whenever his mind was considering the things that could go wrong, Levi thought of the four by two-hundred relay race.

The relay races were the most intense part of Levi’s schedule, on the day of a track meet. The hand-off is what made the outcome of a relay race uncertain. If something was going to happen, if something was going to go wrong, it went wrong in the relays. Many a dream team ended up finishing last, as one of their number, stands dumbstruck, looking at the little metal baton lying on the track. Once you dropped one, there was no reason to pick it up. You’d been disqualified. Dropping the baton, every sprinter’s nightmare, was only a little worse than muffing the hand-off, but not dropping it. Failure to make a good crisp hand-off, caused more than one relay team to finish out of the money. The art of the hand-off needed to be perfected, If you didn’t know the moves of the guy handing off to you, or the guy you were handing off to, the results could be disastrous, even for a dream team, made up of the world’s fastest men or women. The hand-off was the key in every relay race.

Running the open sprints was a piece of cake. The most difficult part, coming out of the starting block. Once you were out, you kicked it into high gear, running for all you were worth, until the race was run. If you were a sprinter running the hundred or two-hundred, it was always the same. Running the relays was never the same twice, because everyone knew how unpredictable the hand-off could be.

Levi ran the anchor leg of the team’s four by two hundred relay. Because Amalgamated High had four solid two-hundred men, Levi almost always had the lead, once the baton had passed to him. Being the fastest two-hundred-meter man, meant no one was going to catch him, and if by some quirk of fate, say a bad hand-off, Levi was the man you wanted to have the baton, if you needed to make up yardage. Because his team spent hours practicing the hand-off, Levi rarely needed to make up yardage.

As Levi thought about the relay he ran, he thought about the relay Moony ran. Moony started the four by one hundred relay. His job, get as far out ahead of the competition, as he could, and hand-off the baton with his team leading. The fastest hundred man in the city, always had a lead, once the baton exchange was made. With smooth hand-offs, a really good team expanded the lead. The four by one hundred relay was electric if the exchanges were crisp and clean, and backbreaking if they weren’t.

* * * * *

Today, Levi was on his way to a part of town, where he rarely went, and then, only with the track team. He didn’t remember driving through Southside in a car. He’d checked teacher’s addresses, and Mr. Tilton lived in Southside. Levi had Mr. Tilton in chemistry a year ago. He figured the man would remember him.

He went to see him after the last bell rang. His teacher did remember him, and he drew him a map to where he was going, listing the number of the two buses he’d need to take, and where he would need to transfer to the second bus. Mr. Tilton took the same two buses every day.

Levi told his coach that he’d be missing practice the next day. It wasn’t like he was going to get in any better shape than he was in. It wasn’t like he’d made a habit of missing practice. He hadn’t missed practice before. It was one of those things he did after school every day, during track season. He liked practice. He liked being on the track team. It was a big part of who he was.

As Mr. Tilton handed him the map with the instructions, he’d held onto it, when Levi tried to take it from him.

“You sure you know where you’re going, son? Are you sure you know what you’re doing? I’ve lived in Southside for twenty years. I’ve never had a minute of trouble, and this may not come as a news flash to you, but you’re white, and while Southside isn’t much more dangerous than most places, there are things that will attract attention. You being white boy is one of those things.”

“I’m just going to visit a friend,” Levi said, folding the map and putting it in his pocket. “I’ll be fine.”

“Uh huh!” Mr. Tilton said, shaking his head. “You want me to go with you, son? I don’t leave school until after five, but I’ll go with you, if you want me to.”

“No, sir,” Levi said. “I’ll be OK.”

Mr. Tilton hoped he was right.

* * * * *

As the buses’ brakes hissed, Levi saw the driver’s eyes in the big mirror next to his seat, “This is where you want to get off, son. 2Nd Street is right at the next corner, and 2Nd Street is one block over.”

“Thanks,” Levi said, as the door of the bus opened to let him out.

Levi saw the street sign that Mr. Tilton marked on the map, and he made the right turn, going one block, and he turned right on 2nd Street. The street was nearly empty. Only one other person got off the bus when he did, but he turned the other way. Levi checked the number on each house.

He was right where he wanted to be. The first address was 1901 2nd Street. It was on the opposite side of the street, and in the middle of the block was 1909 2nd Street. He crossed over to the other side, standing in front of Moony Brown’s house, according to the news articles Sid copied for him.

There were yellow flowers on either side of the sidewalk that led to the steps at the front door. Shrubs grew up across the front of the house. Levi took a step onto the walkway, stopping to look at the house. It wasn’t a big house, but it looked neat, and a small patch of grass was at the right of the walk, and a fence was to the left. He hesitated, looking at the address again. It hadn’t changed.

He would need to force himself forward, because his feet weren’t that anxious to go. He began to wonder if this was such a good idea. Why was he here? How would he explain his presence at Moony’s house?

A fine time to figure out what he was doing there. He contemplated taking a step backward, so he wasn’t inside the house’s property line, while he thought.

As Levi stood there, waiting to be motivated, the front door swung opened. A middle aged woman, maybe his mother’s age, stood staring at him.

“You lost, boy? You look lost.”

It wasn’t a particularly friendly welcome. Levi could hear what the woman wanted to say. ‘What the hell you doing in my yard,’ but she was more polite than Levi’s subconscious was.

“I…,” was the best he could do at the moment.

“Cat got your tongue? What do you want? You’re standing in my yard. I’d like to know why,” she said, becoming more aggressive, but she didn’t come out to shoo him away, yet.

Levi felt out of place for a good reason. He was in-town, when he never went into town. No matter where he went, there was a friend to drive him, but he wasn’t going to ask one of his friends to bring him to Southside. He envisioned a conversation with the sprinter that he’d only seen at track meets. They would talk, because of what they had in common, sprinting. How long could that take?

“Well? What you want?” she said, sounding irritated about him being there.

“I’m Levi… Levi Cordoba,” Levi said, becoming tongue tied again. “I… I….”

“Is we on Candid Camera. I bet we is,” she suddenly said, sounding overjoyed.

“What’s Candid Camera,” Levi said, as the woman smiled at him.

“You aren’t from Candid Camera, are you?”

“I….”

“Spit it out, honey child. I’m well fed. I don’t bite, and if you is my long lost nephew, I ain’t got no brothers or sisters. Are you sure you’re in the right place?”

“Moony. I want to see Moony,” Levi managed to say clearly.

“Moony who? You is in the wrong spot. Ain’t no Moony here?”

“Mama, cut it out, someone yelled from far away from the door. What’s he want? Let him in the house if he came to see me? Who is he?”

“Levi, Levi Cordoba,” Levi yelled loud enough to be heard.

“Levi Cordoba? You sure you want Moony Brown?” the invisible voice asked.

“Track. I know you from track,” Levi yelled louder.

“That Levi Cordoba? What you want with me? Do you know where you are? Mama, let him in the house before the neighbors see him.”

“I guess you better come on in,” she said, pushing the screen open, looking both ways, as Levi scurried into the house.

It was an old house, but it was neat. The house smelled of fresh cut flowers, and there was a long entryway with most of the house on the right side of the hallway. The stairs were straight ahead of him, and the disembodied voice was coming from the left.

“Come on. Don’t want you getting lost. He’s back here. He can’t do the stairs. His father’s study is where he sleeps now, and his name is Terrance. We do not call him by that other name. I’d appreciate it if you remember that.”

“Mama, you didn’t need to escort him,” Terry said. “If he found his way to Southside, I doubt he’d get lost on his way to my room.”

“I ain’t letting no white boy roam around my house. No telling what they might pick up, by mistake,” she said, more cynical than she intended.

“Mama, I’ll see to it he don’t steal nothing. Go on and fix lunch. He ain’t here to see you,” Terry said, not sounding like he was thrilled with Levi being there.

“Don’t you be stealing nothing. I’d never hear the end of it,” Moony said.

“I’ll try to resist the temptation, but those are nice flowers,” Levi said, playing along with his host.

“Terrance, no telling what this is going to do to our reputation. Cut it short. Let this white boy go back to where he belongs,” she said.

“Don’t mind her, some gypsies left her off here, one time. on their way to somewhere else. We kept her out of kindness,” Terry said.

“I bet I make you fix your own lunch, Terry Brown,” the woman said, sticking her head back around the doorjamb. “Well sit yourself down. He ain’t ete, but he don’t bite.”

“Yeah! Yeah! Tuna fish ready yet, Mama?” Terry asked, ignoring Levi.

“A minute ago you wasn’t hungry,” she said from farther away.

Levi felt like he’d just walked into a Three Stooges skit. He didn’t know what to take seriously. He stood just inside the door, looking at Moony Brown. He didn’t recognize him out of his uniform. He couldn’t have picked him out of a crowd.

“Well, what you want? What the hell you doing here, Cordoba? Do you have any idea where you are? I got shot a block from here. Those boys see your white ass, they’ll shoot first, and ask questions later. What are you doing here anyway?” Moony Brown asked. “Sit down, will you. My neck’s getting sore.”

“I… I…,” was the best Levi could do.

“Sit down. Maybe you’ll think better off your feet. You do know that my getting shot was an accident. Those boys down the block get a gander of you coming into my house, they’ll be gunning for my ass,” Terry said.

Levi wasn’t certain he was being put on, but it crossed his mind.

“I…,” Levi said. “How are you? I came to see how you are.”

“How am I? My ass got shot, which means, I ain’t none too good at the moment, and how are you, Cordoba? What the hell’s your first name?”

“Levi. Levi Cordoba. My friends call me Cord,” Levi said.

“You come down to make sure I’m out of it for good? Well, the doctors say, I’ll be lucky to walk again. Run, they get hysterical when I ask if I’ll ever run the hundred again?”

“I’m sorry,” Levi said, a great deal of remorse in his voice.

“Sorry for what? You didn’t shoot me, or did you have something to do with it? Has worked out nice for you. If I didn’t know who shot me, I’d put my money on you. What you want?” Terry asked, speaking rapidly.

“I know how good I have it. I heard about what happened. I just wanted to let you know that it bothered me a lot. I’m not the hundred man you are, Moony. I beat you once in the four times we’ve raced each other.”

“Everyone has a bad day now and then. I had a bad day. You beat me once out of four races.”

“I’m a two hundred-meter-dash man. That’s my event. I run the hundred because it’s a sprint. I’m the fastest guy on the team.”

“Excuse me for not standing up and applauding, but I been shot recently. As I recall, I only beat you by a step or two. You’re pretty fast, for a white boy.”

“Your fast as greased lightning,” Levi said.

“A sprinter is a sprinter. You got nothing to be sorry about. You’re good, and now that I’m out of it, you’ve got even better,” Terry said.

“You still follow track?” Levi asked, not being sure he would, under similar circumstances.

“I don’t want to. I try not to, but I always end up turning to the sports page, looking at the results of city track meets. Even if I can’t run any more, I’m still a sprinter at heart. Why are you here?”

“I had to come. I don’t know why. Once I knew what happened to you, I had to come to find out how you are. Took a while to get my courage up to face you. I figured, last thing you need is a reminder of what you’ve lost. I mean, I can’t imagine it. You’re so fast, and,” Levi said.

“But you came anyway,” Moony said softly. “My guys don’t even come here.”

“Really?”

“I told them not to. Last thing a guy wants to see is a cripple. I ain’t saying I’ll always be cripple, but, well, I am now. I got to live with that,” Terry said.

“When we raced, and they’re announcing our names. I watched you, when they were announcing, Moony Brown, lane 4. You’d lock eyes with me, and give me that nod, like you respected me. The way you carried yourself. I liked that. I was sure I’d like you. Deep in those eyes, I saw a real person, and I can honestly say, everyone else on that track, doesn’t even register on me. Maybe because you beat me, but even after beating me, you showed me respect. You never left the track, until you locked eyes with me. That’s why I’m here. Things might have been easy for me this year, if you hadn’t been there to keep me honest. You do own the hundred, Terry. You keep a lot of sprinters honest.”

“I felt invincible. Then, I let you beat me. Look at me now,” Terry said, looking Levi over, as he sat across from him.

Moony wiped moisture out of his eyes. He hadn’t talked track with anyone. That part of his life had been out of his mind, until a sprinter from another school came to remind Terry who he was, and how he impacted the boys he raced.

While he was running track, he gave little thought to other sprinters. When he went to a track meet, he went to win the hundred, and hopefully to have a good four by one hundred relay race. They did well at some track meets, and they didn’t do as well at others. Relays were like that.

Chapter 5

Moony’s World

The boys sat silent. A car passed on the street every few minutes, and the house made sounds around them, but neither boy spoke, until Terry had a thought he wanted to share.

“The class of the city’s sprinters, for the first few weeks of the season, is right here, in this room, if you can wrap your mind around that.”

“We were something to see,” Levi said, watching Moony’s face.

“Now, I’m just hoping to walk again.”

“You’re Terry Brown?” Levi asked. “Should I call you Terry?:

“Terrance Mann Brown. Ain’t that a moniker. They began calling me Moony when I was 12,” he began to explain.

“Why Moony? That’s an odd name.”

There was some clicking noise, that turned out to be coming from his braces, and before Levi knew it, Moony stood up, used one hand to pivot, until his back was turned, and Levi found himself looking at a perfectly shaped brown butt.

Levi laughed, and Moony was already hysterical over the move he made.

“Now you’ve been mooned by Moony Brown,” he said.

“I get it. Moony. You moon people?” Levi asked.

“Do it once, and you live with it for the rest of your life,” he said, no longer thinking it was all that funny.

“Yes, and he mooned a Southside cop, the one time he pulled that stunt. Luckily his father is a Southside cop, and after they took him into custody for indecency in public, they released him to my husband, once they realized they had his son. He had to promise to keep his pants on, before they’d release him. He’s damn lucky he don’t have a criminal record. I bet, if I saw him do that, I’d turn that little brown butt red,” Mrs. Brown said from the doorway.

Terry laughed.

“Lighten up, Mama. I had bad timing is all,” Terry said. “I’ve been Moony Brown ever since that night,” he said. “It was all over the neighborhood by the next day. The guys I was with that day, bet me a buck, I wouldn’t moon the next car that drove by,” he said. “I won the bet and got hauled in by the cops. My old man was fit to be tied.”

“I bet,” Levi said.

“I don’t bet any more. When I heard a car. I turned my butt to the street, and I dropped my pants onto the ground. It was a cop car of course, and they didn’t see the humor in it,” he said. “Just poor timing, on my part.”

“How did you get yourself shot?” Levi asked.

He wanted to take the question back, as soon as he asked it.

Terry sat expressionless for a couple of minutes. Levi wasn’t sure he’d get an answer to his impertinent question. Then he began talking.

“Mama, I can smell that tuna sandwich you were going to bring me an hour ago. What do we pay you for, anyway,” Terry said.

“You usually let it sit a half a day before you eat it. You’ve got company. You don’t want to be eating in front of your company,” she explained.

“I’m sure he’s got a mother. She’ll get him a tuna sandwich, after he gets home. I am home,” Terry said, and Mrs. Brown was gone again.

“She gets upset if I talk about it in front of her. She carries me to the doctors. It’s not like it’s a secret, but it still upsets her,” Terry said.

“You’re her son. I’m sure the thought of you being shot, would be upsetting,” Levi said. “It was a stupid question to ask you.”

“No, it wasn’t. I was late getting home from track practice. I stayed late to practice my starts. How’s that for poor timing? It had been raining, not hard, just a drizzle, but enough to be annoying. I generally run home. It’s about a half mile, and after practice, a light jog helps me to cool down. My ears got cold. As you can see, that can be a major discomfort for guys with ears like mine. I put my hoodie up, just as I was about to turn right on 2nd Street, down at the corner. I’d left my gear at school, or the guy would have recognized me. He’d have known, just Moony coming home from practice, but I had cold ears, and I knew better than to put my hoodie up, but I wasn’t thinking, as I turned onto Monroe, to go over a block to 2nd Street, I heard a single shot. I knew what it was,” Terry said.

“Next thing I know, I’m on my back, staring up at a street light, it had this neat little aura around it. I wondered what I was doing down there, looking up at a street light. It wasn’t dark, but the sky was black, and I tried to get up. I couldn’t get up. I couldn’t move at first. I remembered hearing the shot. Didn’t feel a thing. Next thing I know, I’m staring up at that light. It took a few minutes to hear the sirens,” he said, going silent for a minute.

“When you hear a random shot like that, everyone looks out to see who is doing the shooting. Someone saw me in the street. They called 9-1-1 a minute after they heard the shot. The hospitals four blocks across the main street you came in on. Otherwise, I might not be here talking to you right now, Cordoba.”

“It was that bad? At first they had to put the bag over my mouth, squeezing air into my lungs. I didn’t feel anything, but the bullet is right next to my spine. I was in the ER in five minutes, and on the way to the operating room, as they scrambled to get a team together to operate on me,” Terry said.

“I didn’t know any of that. You look fine, except for those braces. You don’t look like you’ve lost that much weight,” Levi said. “I didn’t know what to expect.”

It was touch and go after I came out of surgery. They couldn’t say if I’d live.”

“What a waste, Terry. I can’t even imagine being in your position,” Levi said.

“What made you come here? I still don’t get that. Your life is good. I’m out of it now. I won’t do any more racing,” he said.

“That’s why I’m here. Your not racing bothers me. Winning the hundred isn’t much fun, because I’m not racing the fastest guy. I’m winning the races you’d be winning, if you weren’t…,” Levi’s voice tailed off.

“But I am. It’s an ill wind that doesn’t do someone some good,” Terry said something he’d heard somewhere.

“Doesn’t set right with me. I plan to win, when I get into the blocks, but my heart isn’t in it. My times aren’t even close to your times,” Levi said sadly. “I wanted you to know I think about it. I think about you. I didn’t know what happened, until two days ago. Once I found out, I decided to come see you. Tell you that I admire you, and there is no joy in winning the hundred.”

“You are doing what sprinters do. You get in the blocks, when that gun sounds, you run your ass off, until you hit the finish line. You’ve got no reason to feel bad about winning, Levi. You’re the fastest hundred man now,” Terry said. “And, I always knew where you were on the track. You were the one man that came close to me, and I knew where you were. I know who Levi Cordoba is. You are beautiful in the two hundred. Those long legs and powerful strides. It’s easy to see how you put so much distance between you and your competition.”

“Thanks. I’m glad you knew I was there. I know you aren’t there,” Levi said. “I knew when you were there, and you were totally cool about being faster than anyone else on the track. You didn’t strut. You never looked down your nose at the rest of us, even knowing you were going to win, you were cool. I admired that. I am anything but cool. I acknowledge no one. I’m there for one reason.”

“You’re there to win, and that’s what you do,” Terry said. “Don’t be thinking about me. I’m out of it now. I won’t be running any more hundreds.”

“We heard the shot. I was putting dinner on the table,” Mrs. Brown said.

“His father heard it. He stood at the front door, looking out at the street. Terry was running late. That’s nothing new. We knew where he was. It’s a half mile between the school and here. What could happen in a half mile? His father could see the ambulance flashing lights, a few houses down. ‘I’m going to walk down and see if there’s anything I can do. I might need to call something in.’”

“They didn’t waste any time. I guess they took my vitals, got me in the back of the emergency squad, and I was at the hospital a minute later. It’s two blocks over and three blocks. I was having trouble breathing.”

“The ambulance was leaving, by the time Al got to the scene. He looked at it driving toward the hospital, and Mrs. Paul, she lives on the corner, told Al, “It’s Terry, Al. Someone shot Terry. He ran back to get his car, and me, and we sat in the emergency room, waiting for someone to say something. He’d gone to the operating room by the time we got there. Surgeons were running around, trying to get a team to work on Terry,” Mrs. Brown said. “Longest night of my life. Worst night of my life. No one could tell us anything. He was in the operating room until five the next morning, and the doctor finally came to tell us that he was out of danger, for the time being, but there would be more surgery, and he wouldn’t be out of the woods, until they’d done all they could do.”

“It sounds horrible. How can people do that to each other?” Levi asked, having heard of a dozen kids being shot to death in Southside.

“Nothing for them here. Some get jobs. Some go on to school, but the ones that don’t get angrier and angrier that there’s is nothing for them. Some join the military, which is a little better, I suppose, but others join gangs, and gangs are about turf, and anyone who comes on their turf, they feel justified in shooting. Makes no sense, but that’s how it is. My husband tries to get them out of gangs, but it doesn’t work for all of them, and the anger over not having a way off these streets, just builds and builds, and a kid like Terry pays for that anger. My beautiful baby has to live with being a cripple.”

“I’ll walk again, Mama,” Terry said. “Don’t you ever think I won’t.”

“I know you will, Baby,” she said, not as certain as Terry was.

His mother listened to the doctors, but Terry listened to his heart, Levi thought, as the entire story filtered out.

“The guy didn’t recognize me, Mama. It was a mistake, is all,” Terry said.

“It doesn’t matter. He was going to put a bullet in somebody’s kid, and this time, it was my kid, and I don’t like it. I wish they’d take all the guns away. If no one had guns, there wouldn’t be any more shootings. No more mothers would need to watch their kid suffer<” Mrs. Brown said. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt. You go on and talk. I’ll shut up now.”

His mother once again left the doorway of his room.

“She’s more worked up over it than I am,” Terry said.

“Your her son. You had hopes and dreams, and a way to make them come true,” Levi said. “That was taken away from you. I understand why she’s so angry.”

“Yeah, Yeah, it’s an old story. What’s done is done. I got what I got, and I’ll make the most of it,” Terry said. “We live in a violent world. It would be nice if every grudge wasn’t settled with a gun, but that’s how it’s done here. Lots of folks get shot every day in this country. Hundreds, and that’s how it’s done.”

“So now you’ve heard the whole gruesome tale,” Terry said.

“You haven’t lost your muscle tone. You look as hard as a rock. You’ve gut buns of steal,” Levi said.

“You don’t think I’d have showed you my ass, if it was all shriveled up, do you? I do have some pride.”

Levi laughed. He needed to laugh. He felt awful for Terry, and he was glad he came to see him. He seemed to want to talk, even if it meant talking to the competition.

“My legs are jello. They don’t hold me up. The braces let me stand on my own. The doctors say that I’m in such peak physical condition, it might take up to a year to lose my musculature. It doesn’t simply deteriorate right away. I look at my legs, and the muscles are still prominent. They just won’t hold me up any longer. Some days, I just want to cry.”

Another silence set in. Levi wanted to cry.

Terry sat behind the desk in a desk chair. His wheelchair was within easy reach. He hated the wheelchair, and he refused to stay in it, unless he had to leave the study for one thing or another, but he was content to stay put. He no longer had anywhere to go.

A few minutes later, his mother was back.

“Here,” Mrs. Brown said, thrusting a plate, with a tuna sandwich on it, in front of Terry, and turning to hand Levi a similar sandwich.

“Don’t want no one saying I let no white boy starve at my house,” she sang, as she went back out of the room.

Levi laughed. He was sure she was putting him on. He hadn’t known what to expect, and Mrs. Brown knew what a lot of white folks expected, and she was happy to give it to them.

“Don’t mind her. She watched too many episodes of the Jeffersons,” Terry said.

“I heard that,” Mrs. Brown said. “I bet I’ll let you fix your own sandwich tomorrow.”

“You really want to be cleaning up after me?” Terry asked.

“Never mind. I forget I raised a mess of a son,” she said.

“I’m having trouble swallowing this, Mama,” Terry said.

“Hold your horses. I only got two hands. I was making you lemonade. Lemons don’t grow on no trees, you know,” she quipped.

Mrs. Brown handed a glass to Terry, and she turned to hand a glass to Levi.

As she turned to leave, Levi said, “I know. You don’t want no white boys dehydrating at your house.”

Mrs. Brown walked toward the doorway to leave Terry’s room. Just as her brightly flowered dress passed out of sight, she let go with a very big laugh. Her laughter continued as she made her way back to the kitchen.

“Mama likes you,” Terry said. “I don’t think she’s noticed you’re a white boy.”

Levi laughed.

“You’ve got a nice mother,” Levi said. “I wasn’t too sure, after I first got here, though.”

“She is a real put on. She doesn’t take anything off of anyone, but she kid along with you, if she thinks she can get away with it. We don’t get many white folks around here. Pop brings a cop home, once in a while, if he likes the guy, but believe it or not, white cops and black cops work together just fine, but they don’t socialize as much as you might think, according to Pop.”

“I believe it, but I don’t know why that would be true. We’re all just people, when you get down to it,” Levi said.

“True, but your kind of people, and our kind of people, have never spent that much time getting acquainted. Everyone has learned to say nice things, but that’s not always how the feel,” Terry said.

Levi had never given it much thought. There were black students at his school. Not many, but there were black guys on the track team. He saw them the same way he saw the rest of his team, but he knew nothing about them, where they lived, or what their lives were like.

He knew everything about his friends, but they were all white, and weren’t much different than he was. Most lived in nice houses, had nice cars, and dressed according to what they could afford, and when you came right down to it, all of them were similar. Their families were similar. Their lives were similar.

“You still haven’t told me what really brought you over here. I’m sure this isn’t on your paper route,” Terry said.

“No one could tell me what happened to you. You just stopped coming to the track meets. It bothered me. I finally decided to find out what happened to you,” Levi said. “When I did, I didn’t know what to do. I finally decided I had to come here to let you know I thought about you, and I needed to tell you how I felt about our interactions.”

“Black man shot in Southside isn’t exactly breaking news,” Terry said. “How’d you figure out it was me?”

“I take journalism. My journalism teacher sent me to one of his old students, who worked at City News. I knew you as Moony Brown, but he looked for anything on a Brown, from around the time you stopped coming to track meets. He found the story about you being shot, and your address and real name was in the article.”

“You had to work to find that out. I just don’t know why it matters to you. I don’t know it would matter to me,” he said.

“I needed to find out how you were. I wanted to know what happened,” Levi said.

“I must admit, I haven’t had a lot of visitors. Some of the guys from my team stopped by, but who wants to look at cripple guy? They know what happened to me could happen to them. Who needs a reminder like that, and they stopped coming. No one has come to see me for a month. I remember you from our races. I knew you were the man in the two-hundred. That made you somebody in my mind, but if you asked me, who’d be the last guy who would come to check on me, I’d pick you. I was the only guy standing in between you and your sweeping the sprints in every track meet. Why would you give a damn about some black kid, from the other side of town?”

“Strange how we get to where we are, isn’t it,” Levi said, not sure he knew why it was so important to see Terry.

Terry looked at him, looked him in the eye. Levi looked him right back in the eye. They were birds of a feather. Not many people knew what getting into a starting block was like. Fewer people yet, knew what it was like to sprint as fast as your body could take you, for one hundred, or two hundred meters. It was exhilarating, and there was nothing like it in the world.

Almost everyone could run, but sprinting was entirely different.

“You anchor your teams four by two hundred relay?”

“Yeah, that’s the other event I run,” Levi said.

“I started on our 4×100 relay. Starting is the best part of my race. I’m quick out of the blocks, you know,” Terry said.

“I know,” Levi said, sounding like a guy who knew only too well how quick he was.

That brought a broad smile to Terry’s face.

“I miss it,” Terry said. “It is who I am, or was. I got a lot more worked up, before I started the four by one hundred relay. I had to get as big a lead as I could, because the other three guys weren’t as dedicated as I was, and if I got them far enough out front, they’d be embarrassed if they lost. I stood at the finish line, waiting for the anchor leg to finish. I couldn’t sit down until then. We didn’t always win, but I gave it everything I had.”

“I remember,” Levi said. “I always went to stand across from the starter, just before the four by one hundred relay ran. I watched you start every time. Your starts are amazing, Terry. I tried to figure out how you got out of the blocks so damn fast. No one had a better start.”

“You think so?” Terry asked.

“I do. I also think you’ll walk again. Once you walk, they’ll play hell keeping you off the track, and you’ll begin to run,” Levi said.

“I’d like to believe that, but the longer I have no feeling in my legs, the less I believe that,” he said.

“You’ll walk again. You’re Moony Brown, the sprinter,” Levi said.

They locked eyes again. Terry thought Levi believed what he said. He just didn’t know if he believed it any longer.

“You’re OK, for a white boy,” Terry said.

“I have my moments,” Levi said. “I thought the same thing about you, being black and all.”

They both laughed. neither gave much thought to race. You had one, and then you got on with your life. It wasn’t complicated. It wasn’t easy either.

Levi didn’t know what he would become if he could no longer sprint. It was the activity that set him free. For ten or twenty seconds, depending on which race he ran in competition, he broke free of earthly constraints. He soared in a way that he wouldn’t know about otherwise.

Levi had it all, and he knew it. His future was golden, and, now, there was nothing standing in the way of him, and his sprint championships that were almost assured. Without Moony Brown to lay claim to another city record in the hundred-meters, Levi was in the driver’s seat.

Chapter 6

Accidental

Levi began working on the second half of his tuna sandwich. It had taken most of his willpower not to gobble it down. The lemonade was made with real lemons, a perfect blend of sweetness and sourness. He emptied the glass, place the empty glass and the dish on the front of the desk.

“That lemonade is the best I think I’ve ever had. The pulp sure adds flavor to it. Usually I drink instant lemonade,” Levi said.

“You get what you pay for, Cordoba. You buy fresh lemons, and you’re likely to get fresh lemonade,” Terry said.

“My instincts tell me, you’ve walked down that street a thousand times,” Levi said. “How do you explain what happened to you that night. Have you considered that someone might have been laying for you?”

Terry sat with the empty plate in his lap. He stared at Levi. He showed no sign of thinking it over. He reached for his lemonade, and drank.

“Everyone has to know you. How’d you get shot a block from home?”

“Because that’s where he shot me. I’d have been closer to home, if I’d walked farther, before he shot me. I’d have been farther away, if shot me sooner. That’s where he pulled the trigger. If he knew me, we’ll never know,” Terry said.

“I guess you’re right,” Levi said. “Even angry guys don’t shoot someone who is making something out of his life, and your father’s a cop.”

“Accidental. I’m somebody down here. I don’t do gangs, and the gangs know it. I can cross any line, go anywhere, and everyone knows Moony Brown. I’m a star, when there are few stars in the black sky. I’d been at practice. I left my gear at school. Too tired to carry it. I jogged two thirds of the way home. I was sweaty. I stopped to wait for the light on the main drag. I was getting cold, and after getting a cross, I put my hoodie up, as i walked toward 2nd Street. I stepped off the curb to cross 2nd. I saw motion on my left on my left. I never saw the guy, but I heard shot. That’s all there was. The first person to me was a neighbor, and before I could get my senses back. Well, I was at the hospital and then I was in a hospital room the next day. They operated on me all night.”

“It’s worse every time I hear it,” Levi said.

“You should be on this side of the desk,” Terry said. “It’s done. This is what I have, Cordoba. This is what I’ve got to learn to live with,” Terry said.

“For now. You’ll walk again. I don’t doubt that,” Levi said.

Terry stared at Levi. He wanted to believe he’d walk again, but even if he did walked again, it was going to be a long tough road ahead of him. That’s a road he’d need to go down alone.

“You’ve got to believe that, Terry. If you don’t believe that, your life is over. The thing you have to live for is the thing that will make you do the work, so you do walk, and once you walk, no one will be able to stop you from running.”

Again, Terry looked Levi in the eyes. There was a coolness there, an acceptance of certain truths, and there didn’t seem to be wiggle room in his eyes. Terry like that. He knew Levi was doing his best to be encouraging.

“The day I beat you….” Levi started, but didn’t have time to finish.

“The day you beat me. I beat you four times. Why don’t we talk about that,” Terry said angrily.

Why don’t we talk about the times I beat you. There are more of those. You only beat me one time, Cordoba,” Terry said, sitting on the edge of the chair like he was ready to race Levi, if necessary to prove his point.

“If you’ll shut up, I’ll tell you why. The day I beat you, when I came out of the blocks, and took those first few steps, I knew it was the best start of my life, and no one was ahead of me. You were always ahead of me in the first five yards, Moony, but this time you weren’t there, and you know the rest. As long as I live, I’ll never forget what you did, once I beat you. You walked over to me, stuck out your hand, and you said, ‘Nice race.’ Why did you do that? I’ve never done that.”

“I wanted a close up look at you. It took the race of your life to beat me, and I wanted you to know, I wasn’t going anywhere. I would always be there, and I’d always be faster than you.”

It took more class than I’ve got. I really don’t think much about the guys I “race. They’re just guys in the other lanes, while I am winning another race.”

“And here you are,” Terry said.

“Isn’t that the truth. Here I am. I wouldn’t have talked to you on the track. I don’t have anything to say. I’m there for one reason, and one reason only. I don’t need to talk about it,” Levi said. “And that’s why I’m here.”

“You white folks sure is strange,” Terry said.

Levi laughed.

The silence came back. Both boys were deep in thought.

Levi spoke first this time.

“A guy spends his life preparing to do a thing he does better than anyone else, and in an instant, it’s all taken away from him. It’s a terrible waste, and I don’t know what to do about it,” Levi said.

“You don’t owe me anything, Cordoba. This isn’t your fight. You come from a different world. In a few minutes, you’ll go home, and you’ll forget all about me, and I’ll still be here, sitting in my window.”

“I feel like I need to do something,” Levi said. “I don’t know what. This is so wrong, but I can’t do anything about it,” Levi said.

“Do you know who shot you?” Levi finally asked.

“Yeah, I knew him. He knew me. He was one of my biggest fans. If I’d have been carrying my gear, he’d have recognized me. If I didn’t get cold ears, I’d not have had my hoodie up. I knew better. I’d made it through the white neighborhood. I was on my own turf. I never thought that someone I knew would put an end to me,” Terry said, showing the pain it caused him, for the first time.

“Your father’s a cop?”

“Yeah! He’s a cop. A bit hard nosed, and unforgiving, especially when it comes to the rules. There are two kinds of people, he tells me. The ones you ain’t got to worry about, and than there are the ones who need watching. He sure has kept an eye on me. It’s why I’m not in a gang. I’d have probably given into the pressure, if I didn’t know what would happen if my father found out I joined a gang.”

“He wouldn’t have liked that,” Levi said.

“How astute? No, I was never tempted to join a gang. If you ever meet my father, you’ll understand why.”

“He didn’t arrest the kid who shot you?”

“Couldn’t,” Terry said.

“I don’t understand. If he’s a cop, why couldn’t he arrest the guy who put a bullet in you,” Levi asked.

“I never told him the name of the boy who shot me. I may not belong to a gang, but I know not to snitch on anyone. It’s a good way to find yourself with a matching bullet hole,” Terry said, deadly serious.

Levi stared at Terry, not believing what he heard.

“That’s wrong,” Levi protested.

“Walk a mile in my shoes, white boy, then you can judge me,” Terry said.

“He’s still out there with a gun?” Levi asked. “You wouldn’t feel responsible if he does to someone else, what he did to you?”

“He can’t,” Terry said.

“If he still has a gun, he can’t shoot someone else?”

“He’s dead. He was shot to death in almost the same spot where he shot me. They were sending a message. I’m a shining star in Southside. Anyone who hurt me was going to pay for it,” Terry said, sounding sad.

Levi stared at him. He began to realize that he did live in a different world. He had nothing to say. The guy who shot Terry, was murdered.

“No gang was going to touch me. For one thing, my father would have them all locked up, and he’d have a dozen witnesses who’d testify to anything my father told them to say. No gang wants that kind of trouble,” Terry said.

“They killed the guy. While you were in the hospital?”

“I told you, I’m one of the shining stars in Southside. He made a mistake, and it cost him his life. I do have to live with that. He shot me. He took away what made me special. He stole my future, you might say. He knew he wouldn’t live long, once it got out who it was he shot. I was too busy trying to stay alive, to worry about the guy who shot me, but had I thought of it, I would have tried to stop it. I’d have spread the word, what was done was done, I don’t want anyone taking revenge on the guy who shot me, but before I was out of the woods, he was dead,” Terry said, coming up short.

“I don’t know I’d be quite so generous,” Levi said, not really talking to Terry.

“You see, you white folks live such innocent lives, when you ain’t whipping up on your slaves, or shaming your servants,” Mrs. Brown said, putting a glass of iced tea in front of each of the boys.

“Thank you,” Levi said, drinking half the tea down.

“You is welcome,” she said, taking the plates and empty glasses with her.

“Your mother is cool,” Levi said.

“Me, too. If they was going to drop someone off here, she’ll do.”

Levi laughed. He felt comfortable. At first, he felt awkward. He wasn’t sure he was doing something other people might not understand. People like Terry. He felt good about coming. He was glad he made the trip.

“You have a sense of humor. I don’t know I would think anything as funny, if what happened to you, happened to me.”

“What will you do now?” Levi asked.

“Sit here. Look out the window. Count the cars that go by. Think about races run,” Terry said. “Think about races to come.”

Mrs. Brown came in the door with a pitcher full of ice tea.

“Your father is working a case. He’ll have an hour in a couple of hours, and we’ll be having an early dinner. Do you think you can eat,” his mother asked, filling the glasses with more ice tea.

“Sure, Mama. I can eat. I smell your fried chicken. Be a dark day when I don’t want a piece of my Mama’s fried chicken,” Terry said.

“Ask your friend if he’d consider taking dinner with us poor folk, but you has to tell him, we’s all out of watermelon,” Mrs. Brown said.

Levi spit a mouthful of tea onto the front of his Letterman’s jacket, as his laughter filled the room.

“Sorry about that,” Mrs. Brown said. “You can clean me up, but you can’t take me anywhere. I’ll get a damp cloth,” she said apologetically.

Mrs. Brown brought back a dish cloth, wiping the errant tea off of Levi’s jacket.

“I don’t really know her,” Terry said. “She comes in and cooks sometimes. She lives under the porch at the Al Saints Church.”
“Your mother’s a hoot,” Levi said, after she took his jacket, to do a better job on getting the tea off.

“We like her, Never a dull moment when Mama’s around.”

Mrs. Brown brought the jacket back.

“Now that you’ve tried to drown him, you owe him dinner. He’ll stay. He ought to be at track practice. I know he don’t get home that early,” Terry said.

“We have plenty. I’m sure my husband would enjoy meeting you,” Mrs. Brown said.

“Thank you. I’d love to try your fried chicken,” Levi said. “Smells wonderful.”

“Aren’t you the charmer,” Terry said. “Got to warn you, though. We black folk believe in eating our greens, but with eat them with biscuits. Kind of a trade off. Mama makes the world’s best biscuits. You’ll be glad you stayed. I am.”

“I can’t wait. My mother knows a cook that makes her own biscuits. We buy them in a can at the grocery store,” Levi said.

“Her collards are to die for. Her biscuits would float away, if she didn’t wrap them in a towel, so they stay put,” Terry said. “Your mother doesn’t cook?”

“Not that I’ve noticed,” Levi said. “We order in a lot.”

“Sounds dangerous,” Terry said.

After only one tuna sandwich, he’d usually eat three or four, Levi was starving. The fried chicken smelled marvelous.

“You should meet my father. He’s a Baptist minister. His father was a minister, and his father before him,” Terry said.

“I thought he is a cop,” Levi said.

“He is. It’s his calling. He would like he think h can stand in between our people, and the justice that is dished out from squad cars. He is a peaceful man, but he’d shoot you in a minute, if you needed to get yourself shot.”

“It’s not what I expected. You aren’t what I expected,” Levi said.

“What were you expecting? I’d have a wife, three kids, and shanty of a house?” Terry asked.

“You might find this hard to believe, but I don’t know any black people. I’ve never been in a black family’s house before,” Levi said.

“Well!, do we pass muster?” Terry asked. “I wouldn’t be able to sleep tonight, if you didn’t think we was up to snuff.”

“Your mom isn’t that different from mine. Mine doesn’t speak in a black dialect, but I bet you guessed that. Mama was smart, went to all the right schools. She was home coming queen, and she went out with the quarterback. She was the valedictorian of her class. She got a near perfect score on the SAT, and a scholarship to Illinois U.”

“Let me guess. She married the quarterback, and they had a son they named after their favorite blue jeans. My mom and your mom are just a like, up until the part where your mom doesn’t speak in a black dialect. After that, not so much,” Terry said. “And I bet you live in a house twice this size.”

“Size isn’t everything,” Levi said.

“That’s cause you’re a white boy. Us black folk pride ourselves in our size. Now, when you say, ‘Size isn’t everything,’ you got me wanting to whip it out. I’ve already showed you my ass, don’t think I won’t show you my dick,” Terry said.

“Not before dinner. I don’t think I’d want to see it before I had at least a couple of pieces of your mama’s friend chicken.”

“How big is it?” Terry asked.

“My dick. I’ve never had any complaints,” Levi said.

“You house,” Terry said.

“It’s big. Only two floors, but we have five bedrooms six baths,” Levi said.

“You white folks sure must like to bathe,” Terry said. “We’ve got two bedrooms and one bathroom, except this is my father’s study. We currently have three bedrooms, minus a study. I manage to stay clean with just one bathroom.”

“My house smells like Spic & Span and Pledge. Two maids come in twice a week to do the floors, dust, and clean the kitchen, make the beds, do the laundry,” Levi said.

“Our maid lives here. I call her Mama,” Terry said.

Levi laughed.

“Yours smells like flowers. And fried chicken. The only time my house smells like fried chicken, is when one of my parents brings a bucket of chicken home. I can’t remember that last time my mother made me a tuna sandwich, or made lemonade. I do actually remember. She’s never done that.”

“Every conversation between teenage guys, sooner of later, degenerates into some kind of sexual competition,” Terry said thoughtfully.

“You think so?” Levi asked. “I guess I don’t have the right friends. Sex does come up, during our conversations, but nothing I’d call unusual.”

“Exactly. It isn’t unusual, but it is always on our mind,” Terry said. “Psychologically speaking.”

“You don’t take much seriously. I mean, I can see you got that from your mother. It does keep me off balance,” Levi said. “My father cooks better than my mother, but I prefer dinners we order in.

I wouldn’t know home cooking if I fell over it,” Levi said.

“You’ll enjoy dinner then. As you see, Mama is a housewife. Her mother was the best cook in Shreveport. Mama learned from her,” Terry said.

“If I was paralyzed, I’d be in the convalescent home,” Levi said. “My mother has too much to do to be taking care of me.”

“What does your mother do,” Terry asked.

“Whatever she pleases. She belongs to a lot of clubs. She’s a member of the school board, and she heads the Ladies Aid Society.”

“What the hell is that?” Terry asked.

“Near as I can figure, they’re ladies who aid someone,” Levi said.

Terry laughed.

He sensed his mother wasn’t the only one who put people on.

“I guess us black folk don’t have it so bad, after all,” Terry said.

“Our house might be bigger, but it doesn’t look lived in. The only time my house smells like your house, is right after the man brings dinner to the door. You house smells nice, ours smells sanitized,” Levi said. “You’re lucky, Terry Brown.”

“I see we are back to talking about size. Like I said, when two guys talk, every conversation degenerates into a sexual competition. Don’t you think?”

“No, I don’t think that way,” Levi said.

“Cause you white guys got small dicks? Less to talk about?” Terry asked “If black guys didn’t talk sex, it would cut out ninety percent of our conversation, but everyone knows that us black guys have plenty to talk about.”

Levi laughed.

“You’re going to make me have to stand up for my white brothers. I don’t usually take my dick out in public,” Levi said. “But I will if I have to, and that would give us plenty to talk about.”

“I only take mine out in public. Did I tell you how I got the name Moony?”

Levi didn’t know why it sounded funny, but it struck him as funny, and he was glad to be able to laugh. He was happy to see Terry laugh.

They both laughed at nothing in particular.

The atmosphere had grown lighter, as time passed. It wasn’t like they were strangers an hour ago, but if they didn’t know each other before, each knew of the other, closing any distance between them in short order.

“I haven’t laughed so much in a while,” Levi said.

“I was planning on studying psychology. I wanted to know what makes people tick. For all the quibbling about who is civilized, and who isn’t, men are brutal creatures, who’d rather kill you than talk to you, if you’re the least different from they’re particular peculiarities,” Terry said.

Levi thought Terry sounded profound. It was an astute observation, not unlike thoughts he’d had himself. The wrong people always seemed to be in power, they clung to power like they owned it. They fought to keep it, because power put you close to the wealth, and power and wealth go hand in hand, if you are clever enough to get your hands on either.

“You get good grades?” Levi asked.

“It’s all relative. If I like a class, I will get an A. If I don’t like a class, I’ll get a B, because I feel like I need to try to like it, even when it is as boring as hell. Why we are forced to take so much crap we’ll never use is beyond my ability to reason it out,” Terry said.

“Ain’t that the truth,” Levi said, having had the same thought.

Chapter 7

Supper Time

The easy conversation at the Brown table was different than the all business at the Cordoba table. There were things to discuss, and dinner was the only time Levi came together with his parents during the week. They were gone all day, and he left for school before they came downstairs.

Levi’s father had his own firm. He’d taken the business over from his father, when his parents retired to Florida. His father didn’t make it home for dinner every night. His mother circulated in Chicago and the Northside, attending to the outside interests that kept her busy.

His mother would bring in dinner, if her schedule got her home by seven, which was the Cordoba family’s dinner time. If her schedule didn’t get her home by seven, she ordered in, once she was home. If no one was home by the time Levi got home from practice, he ordered pizza from one of the local restaurants where the Cordobas ate, when they ate out.

After Mr. Brown arrived home, he came to Terry’s room.

“Terry, how are you feeling today,” he said from the door.

“Fine, Dad. This is Levi Cordoba. Levi, this is my father. Levi runs track for Amalgamated. He came to see how I was,” Terry said.

Mr. Brown’s right eyebrow raised distinctively, when he turned his attention to Terry’s company.

“Levi,” Mr. Brown said, reaching for Levi’s hand.

Levi stood and shook the big paw that had been offered to him.

“Nice to meet you, sir.”

“I have a feeling your mama is putting food on the table. Why don’t you help Terry into his chair and join us at the table. I trust you’re staying for dinner. If you are, it’ll be one of your better decisions today. It’s fried chicken night. Emily’s fried chicken is to die for.”

Mr. Brown closed his eyes and had a heavenly look on his face, while talking about his wife’s cooking. Mr. Brown went back out of the room.

“You want to get into your chair?” Levi asked.

“I do. I sit in a regular chair at the table,”

Levi moved over to where Terry was sitting. He had him scooped up in his arms, pivoting to sit him in the wheelchair. Levi pushed the chair into the dining room. He moved Terry to the chair he indicated at the table, moving the wheelchair out of the way.

“Your a strong young man,” Mr. Brown said. “I have difficulty moving him.”

“Sit across from me,” Terry said, and Levi sat down.

Mrs. Brown brought a big fluffy bowl of mashed potatoes, before bringing a bowl of greens, chicken, and a bowl with a dish towel covering her biscuits.

After the food was on the table, she brought glasses of ice tea for each of them, before taking her place at the table. She nodded to her husband.

“Heavenly father, thank you for another beautiful day, the bounty you provide us with, and for healing Terry, as I know you will. In the Lord’s name we pray, Amen.”

Blessing the food caught Levi by surprise. His family wasn’t religious, and he remembered Mr. Brown was from a family of preachers. Naturally there would be a blessing. It was short and appropriate. Levi knew to say Amen, when the blessing ended.

“He’s not that light,” Mr. Brown said to Levi.

“I’ve been doing weight training this season,” Levi said, accepting the mashed potatoes and putting some on his plate.

“Thank you,” he said, passing the bowl back to Mrs. Brown, and she filled Terry’s plate, as the food was passed around.

“It’s a strain when I pick him up,” Mr. Brown said. “You make it look easy.”

Levi ate, using his best manners, pausing to speak.

“He’s not that heavy,” Levi said.

“He’s a hundred and fifty-three pounds a the last doctor’s visit. He’s down nearly twenty pounds,” Mrs. Brown said.

“He’s actually sitting right here at the table with you, and he can actually tell his friend those things if he wants him to know all the details.”

“Yes, you are, and please don’t use that tone, Terrance,” Mr. Brown said. “Levi doesn’t know what we know, and I was impressed by his strength.”

“I’m at a hundred and sixty-five pounds, give or take a pound or two. It’s the first year I’ve maintained the same weight throughout track season. In previous seasons, before I did weight training, I’d lose five to ten pounds during track season,” Levi said, wanting to give that information for Terry’s benefit.

“What is that private school like. I hear Amalgamated’s GPA, and its rating among local public schools is through the roof,” Mr. Brown said.

Putting his fork down, Levi directed his words toward Terry’s father.

“I was in public school, until ninth grade. My parents decided to send me to Amalgamated. A few of our neighbors go there. It was certainly different from public school. Smaller classes, better teachers. Their athletics are first class. It’s a different world from public school,” Levi said, picking up his fork to eat some greens, potatoes, and he went to work on a piece of chicken.

“How are your grades?” Mr. Brown asked. “You’re a good student?”

“Private school is a different atmosphere from public school,” Levi said. “We aren’t rushed, like in public school. We have plenty of time between classes. There are fewer kids in a class, but when you get to class, you need to apply yourself, if you want to keep up. If you don’t keep up, you’ll hear about it. Each teacher knows exactly what you are doing in their class. In public school, I was a face in the crowd. My grades sucked. Excuse me. I wasn’t a good student.”

“How did you become a good student?” Mr. Brown asked, working on a chicken breast as he spoke.

“I got my waked up call, halfway through the school year, when I went out for track. My coach took me aside after the first week of practice. He said, ‘Mr. Cordoba, if you want to stay on the track team, you’ll kindly get no grade worse than a B. I don’t tolerate slackers. If a grade in one of your classes falls below a B, you’ll be riding the bench for the rest of the season.”

“Harsh,” Mr. Brown said. “What do you need in the way of grades to stay on the track team, Terry.”

“Pass. As long as you pass, you’re on the team. I think we’re supposed to maintain a C average, but some of the guys on our team don’t read well.”

“What kind of grades do you get now?” Mr. Brown asked.

“I carry a 4.0. I love all my classes, and the teachers are good. Teachers in some of my lower grades weren’t as sharp as my teachers this year, but most of them know their stuff. I don’t have much trouble with my classes. There is a lot of flexibility for seniors, after you take English and mathematics.”

“I’m impressed. Terry’s a good student. He doesn’t attend school, because of what happened, but they bring his work to him. He’ll graduate on time, because he is a good student,” he said. “After that, we just don’t know.”

“Don’t be bashful, son. Take a couple of pieces,” Mr. Brown said. “It’s good chicken. No one stops after two pieces. It’s unnatural.”

Mr. Brown held the platter of chicken out, and Levi took two more pieces, adding bones to the pile of bones he was creating.

“It’s great chicken,” Levi said, taking another thigh, before the platter moved. “It’s tender and juicy.

Levi bit into the flavorful chicken.

“It’s how my mother did hers. The secret is to dip it in buttermilk, then you roll it in seasoned breadcrumbs. Then you let it set up for a few minutes, before you put it your oil,” Mrs. Brown said.

“It’s the best chicken I’ve ever had,” Levi said. “It’s so juicy.”

“More tea, Levi?” Mrs. Brown asked.

“Yes, ma’am. Thank you,” Levi said. “It’s all quite good. Your biscuits are so fluffy. I don’t want to make a pig of myself.”

“Why not?” Mr. Brown said. “We do every night. Emily’s meals are difficult to resist, so I don’t even try.”

“Don’t be bashful,” Terry said. “Eat home cooking while you can, man. Mama is the best cook around.”

“Your mother was from Shreveport, Terry?” Levi asked, knowing the answer.

“Why yes, she was,” Mrs. Brown said. “I was born in Shreveport.”

“I met her at college,” Mr. Brown said. “If she hadn’t been the most beautiful girl in school, I’d have married her for her fried chicken recipe.”

“Don’t be telling the boy that stuff,” Mrs. Brown said.

“It’s true,” Mr. Brown said. Would I lie?”

“Does your mother fry her chicken using buttermilk?” she asked.

“No, ma’am. She doesn’t use buttermilk,” Levi said.

“I can write down the recipe, if you like,” Mrs Brown offered.

“No, ma’am. It would be a waste of your time. When we have fried chicken, the colonel fries it for us. My mother brings it home in a bucket,” Levi said.

Terry spit out the biscuit he was just then biting into. He coughed, nearly choking.

“Don’t gobble your food, Terrance. We don’t want Mr. Levi to go away thinking we aren’t civilized,” Mr. Brown said. “We aren’t timing you.”

Mrs. Brown’s mouth opened. She wasn’t sure she heard him right

“No, sir, we wouldn’t want that,” Terry said, laughing so hard he had trouble staying in his chair.

“You white folks sure know how to live, Levi,” Terry said, shaking his head.

“I don’t know what time the last bus leaves that’ll take me to Northside. I don’t want to miss it,” Levi said. “It would be a long walk.”

“Don’t worry about the bus. I’ll drive you,” Mr. Brown said. “I’m going up that way, after dinner. You may not know where you are, son, but I know, and you don’t want to be taking the bus down here. We belong here. You are a stranger. Some folks don’t like strangers coming into our neighborhood. I won’t tell you that you can’t come. It’s plain to see that Terry enjoys your company, but it isn’t safe for you to take the bus, and walk these streets.”

“Because I’m white?” Levi asked, before he considered the question.

“Well, yes. There’s a long history, and white folks haven’t always treated black folks fairly. Some hold a grudge. Nine times out of ten, you can come down here, and we’ll all be polite, but that tenth time, some angry young man might object to you being on his turf, and that’s when you could be in trouble. There are some bad people in Southside, and I don’t want you meeting one of those. So, I’m asking you, don’t take the bus down here again. We’ll work something out.”

Levi processed what Mr. Brown was telling him. He intended to come back. He liked Terry. He liked the Browns, and when he got off the bus, he had no idea what was going to happen, but he’d bonded with Terry, and Terry seemed happy that he came. He would find a way to come back to visit him.

“I think I understand,” Levi said, as they all looked at him.

“Because you’re white,” Mrs. Brown said, mincing no words. “Because of the history. I deal with everyone fairly. I know most white folks are harmless, but there is still bad blood between some blacks and some whites. Some people down here don’t want white folks coming down here. We don’t feel that way, but there are people who do, and you’ve got to be mindful of that. Like Alvin said, nine times out of ten, you’ll be received politely, but there is always that little bit of risk.”

“I told you about my Mama’s biscuits, didn’t I. Aren’t they the best things you’ve ever put in your mouth,” Terry said.

“They are, Terry. I could eat a dozen of them. Our biscuits come in a can from the super market,” Levi said.

“I’ll put a couple in a bag for you. You’ll have some tomorrow,” Mrs. Brown said.

“I’d love that,” Levi said. “Thank you. I don’t get much home cooking. You don’t know how good this all tastes.”

“I want you to know, I am glad you came by. I haven’t seen Terry this happy in quite a spell, as you can imagine. We can make arrangements if you decide to come back, and I hope you will. You seem like a nice young man.”

“Thank you. I plan to come back. I didn’t know what I’d say to Terry, but we’ve had no trouble communicating, and I’ve enjoyed myself too,” Levi said.

“Don’t I get no say in this?” Terry asked. “What will the neighbors think?”

Levi began to laugh first, and than Mrs. Brown began laughing, before Mr. Brown joined in, as Terry looked at them with a straight face..

“I can see I’m stuck with the white boy,” Terry said with a smile.

“Food is getting cold. We’ll talk about it after dinner,” Mrs. Brown said, and everyone’s focus was back on the most excellent meal, the talk subsided.

After two more pieces of chicken, and two more biscuits, Levi began to feel full. The food was so good, he could keep eating, but he did have some manners. Levi listened to the frankness of the table talk. He realized he gave no thought to his race. It didn’t cross his mind, He never thought about being white. The Browns seemed quite aware of their race, and his. Levi would need to give it more thought, before he returned to the Brown’s house.

Levi never considered Terry’s race. He saw only what they had in common. That was about it. Until he showed up at Terry’s house, he had few thoughts about what Terry’s life was like. Only that the thing they shared in common, was taken from Terry, and what did skin color have to do with any of that.

“I’ve never given much thought to being white,” Levi said.

“I think about being black every time I walk out the door,” Terry said, realizing his mistake, when everyone looked at him.

He realized his mistake, but he wasn’t going to correct it. He did had those thoughts, when he left his house, even if he rarely left these days.

Levi broke the silence, wanting to lighten the heavy air in the room.

“You want to study psychology?” Levi asked Terry.

“That’s my doing,” Mr. Brown said.

Levi’s eyes left Terry and were on Mr. Brown.

“Did you study psychology, Mr. Brown?”

“I did. It’s long story,” Mr. Brown said. “You really don’t want to hear it.”

“You are an interesting man. Terry told me you were a cop. He told me that you were from a family of preachers, and you studied psychology. That’s quite a fistful of credits,” Levi said. “How’d you come to study psychology?”

“I’ll give you the short version, son. After my father was murdered, two kids who believed all the stories they heard about Rev. Brown having a big stash of cash up in his church, went to get it,” Brown said, sipping ice tea.

“There was no money, but those boys, believing that there was money, decided they’d beat it our of Daddy. They beat him to death. After Daddy was dead, they figured they weren’t going to find the stash of cash, and they walked through his blood and walked past the only money in the church, $11.13 in the poor box.”

“Daddy was an institution in Batesville. The only money he ever had, was donations. He managed to feed the poor. He paid rents of people who weren’t making it. There was a good kitchen that fed the elderly. One year someone donated enough money to buy the school band new uniforms, but Daddy spent every dime. There was always a need of some kind, and Daddy did his best to take care of his flock. Those two boys cast the future of Daddy’s flock on troubled waters. They stole more than anyone knew at the time. So much left undone.”

“That’s awful,” Levi said. “A preacher, a cop, and a psychologist. That is quite a background for anyone. They do all seem to be related.”

“I’m a Board certified psychologist. I went to school in Louisiana. That’s where I met my wife. Louisiana.” Mr. Brown said. “Daddy’s church was a few miles outside of Southside. There were a few hundred residents of Batesville, when the super highway came through. It’s an eight lane Interstate these days. Right on top of Daddy’s church. Everyone had me pegged to take the church, once I finished school, but it wasn’t to be. They knocked down Daddy’s church, and the town around it. That put an end to that.”

“They caught the boys?” Levi asked.

“Yes, they left fingerprints all over the place. They walked in daddies blood. Still had blood on their shoes when the cops rounded them up. It was a pretty big deal at the time. There were few folks Daddy hadn’t help at one time or another. I was curious about why those boys did what they’d did. I decided to take up psychology. Try to make sense of it. What I learned, you can’t make sense of senseless violence. No matter how hard you try, there is no possible reason for doing what those two boys did. Terrible waste of three lives,” Mr. Brown said. “But people make a habit of wasting their lives on a regular basis these days.”

“Yes,” Levi said. “Were they black kids.”

“No. Two white boys from Northside. They had a friend, who had an aunt, who went to Daddy’s church. She talked about how much money Daddy spent. All donations from people who supported the church. My father preached the brotherhood of man, and that evil forces get rich by keeping us divided. No time to keep an eye on the folks who are taking all the money.”

“You believe that?” Levi asked, unable to stop what he started.

“I do. I visit those boys. At first I wanted to find out why they did what they did. They laughed at me, at first. Some black man coming to see them. They had as much trouble figuring me out as I had figuring them out, but even their own people gave up on them. Neither of them had visits, except for when I showed up. They finally told me the story. They admitted what they’d done, and what gave them the idea to do it. They are sorry, mostly because they’ve been behind bars for a lot longer than when they were free. They don’t even mind talking to a black man, because no one else will talk to them.”

“How can you stand looking at the boys who killed your father?” Levi asked.

“Which of us hasn’t sinned. Jesus taught us to forgive one another. Jesus would have gone to see those boys, if they’d killed his father. Besides, they’re middle aged. They’ve been locked up for over twenty years. They come up for parole next year. I plan to go to their hearing.”

“You want them to stay in prison,” Levi said.

“No. They’ve been caged for way longer than they’d been alive, at the time they killed my Daddy. Every man deserves a second chance. Kids shouldn’t be locked up forever. It’s a terrible waste. They might want to make up for what they did. They might get out and become perfect citizens,” Mr. Brown said.

“You really believe that?” Levi asked. “I don’t think I could ever be that forgiving.”

Mr. Brown smiled at Levi’s reaction to him wanting the boys out of jail.

“Man specializes in throwing away a lot of humanity. This one is too short. That one is too tall. One is too gay, and another is too straight. One is ugly, and she is just too pretty for her own good. Which one would be a novelist, a nurse,” Mr. Brown said. “Who is to say, one of those boys might get out of prison, go to school, become a doctor, and find a cure for cancer. Whose to say who has unlimited potential, but ends up begging on the street, because he’s gay, and his good Christian parents threw him out of their house. Whose to say which addled minded kid, isn’t an Einstein, unable to learn the way most people learn, because he’s a genius, and so smart that no one is smart enough to understand him,” Mr. Brown said. “There is a cost to throwing away so many people. We’ll never know the cost, because we throw away so much unlimited potential. That was not the way Jesus saw the world, or the people in it. We need to forgive one another.”

“You make a lot of sense,” Levi said. “I’ve never heard it put that way. We do keep a lot of people on the outside, looking in. Wisdom might be in allowing people to find their own way. Give them a structure of education, but allowing them to pick and choose their interests, incorporating that into a career. No one has asked me what I would really like to do. If they really wanted to educate me properly, shouldn’t someone want to know what interests me?”

“More fits in with being a preacher. Who runs across the most people who need to consider the words of Jesus? By treating people with dignity, and acknowledging their humanity, you are giving them an opportunity to excel.”

“You two can talk in the car, when you take Levi home,” Mrs. Brown said. “I have an apple pie cooling in the kitchen. My men take their slice with a scoop of vanilla ice cream, and a glass of milk. How would you like yours?”

“Sounds perfect,” Levi said, mouth watering. “Mrs. Smith makes our apple pies for us.”

Terry laughed.

“You haven’t lived, until you’ve had a slice of Mama’s,” Terry said.

“I do have one question, Mr. Brown. Your philosophy, the things you were saying about everyone having undeveloped potential, did that come from taking psychology, or from the teachings of Jesus?”

“It’s psychology, and from the words of Jesus Christ. He was a man who could harness untapped potential in the people he surrounded himself with. Common sense helps. You’ve got to put the pieces together, and you see a larger picture, once you do that.”

“You are a smart man,” Levi said. “You’ve seen a lot.”

“Being a police officer, I think I’ve seen most conditions the human species can endure and inflict upon one another. You learn from the people who endure incredible horrors, and somehow, they manage to pull it together and go on with their lives. Others go to pieces. That’s what I find most amazing. People can fool you,” he said. “It’s never a good idea to count anyone out,” Mr. Brown said. “People can do some remarkable things.”

Conversation gave way to apple pie and ice cream. The sound of forks against dishware the only sound, except for smacking lips and satisfied noises happy eaters make.

‘Time to get moving,” Mr. Brown said.”They’re expecting me before dark, and we need to get going if I want to drop you off before I drive there? Your parents will feel better, if you’re home before dark.”

“What do you do in the evening,” Levi asked, standing and sliding his chair back against the table.

“I’ll listen to a little music, jazz, sometimes I listen to the blues. I have school work they drop by a couple of times a week. I read a lot. I graduate soon. I need to do something to deserve my diploma. I could ride on my grades and still graduate, but I’d be cheating myself if I did that.”

“Are you going back to the room where you were, when I came?” Levi asked.

“Yeah, I stay in there most of the time,” Terry said. “I like eating at the table with my parents at dinner. Makes things feel a little more normal.”

“I need to get my jacket. I’ll be ready in five minutes, Levi. Meet me at the front door. Wonderful meal, Emily. Wonderful,” Mr. Brown said, kissing his wife.

“Put your arm around my neck. I’ll get you back into your room,” Levi said, slipping his arms under Terry’s legs.

Terry looked down. The side of his head resting against Levi’s cheek. Levi didn’t seem to struggle with the weight. of who he carried. Terry was remembering the times he’d seen Levi looking at him across several lanes of the track. He didn’t see any other competitor in the same way. Once they made eye contact, the hesitation, and a quick Levi nodded back, before they went back to the business at hand. Terry asked who Levi was. He Knew he was a threat, but the real threat Terry felt had little to do with sprinting.

“It was psychology, Cordoba. I was psyching you out,” Terry said.

“When was this?” Levi asked.

“When I waited to shake your hand, the time you won the hundred. I wanted you to look at my back, once I walked away. That was all you were going to see of me after that handshake. I was getting inside your head, Cordoba,” Terry said, looking up at Levi’s face, which put one boys smooth cheek, against the other boys smooth cheek.

“That psychology stuff sure works. You’re inside my head, big time, Terry Brown. “I figured I’d be here ten, maybe fifteen minutes, but once we got past the awkward stuff, I didn’t want to leave. I like you Terry. I enjoy your company.”,

Terry allowed his body to melt into Levi’s body, as they went into Terry’s room. Levi put Terry down in the chair behind the desk, where he’d been sitting, during their visit. He stood up, putting distance between them. Levi didn’t take his eyes off of Terry.

“You will walk again, Terry,” Levi said.

Mrs. Brown pushed the wheelchair into the room, going back out.

“Your just saying that, because you need to believe it. You’re saying that, because if you were in my place, it’s how you’d see it. It’s how I see it, Cordoba.”

“You will walk again,” Levi said. “I’ve watched you sprint, You might say, I have a birds eye view of you running the hundred. That kind of guts and determination is still inside you. You’ll get out of that chair, one day.”

“Could you put me in my chair?” Terry asked.

Levi started picking Terry up again, when Terry put his arms around Levi’s neck, and their cheeks came together, Terry was holding on tight. It was more of a hug than it was anything else, and Levi froze there, in that position, until Terry spoke again.

“I think I’ll stay here. Nix the wheelchair deal. Can’t make up my mind, with you around. You have that effect on me.”

“Sure,” Levi said, easing himself away from Terry’s arms.

They looked at each other in an ill defined way. Each was seeing something different, but they were sharing the same feeling.

“I got to go. Your father will be ready by now. I’ll be back, Terry.”

“We don’t feed every white boy that wanders into our house, you know?”

Levi laughed, before turning to leave. He stopped at the door to look back.

“You take care of yourself, Moony Brown.”

Chapter 8

Easy Riders

Levi walked away from Terry’s room, encounter Mr. Brown as he went toward the front door.

“Come on, boy,” Mr. Brown said. “I got to get moving. They gave me an hour. I’ve taken nearly two, and I still need to get you home.”

Levi followed Mr. Brown to the front door, where Mrs. Brown stood with a brown paper bag in her hand.

“Here, hon,” she said, holding the bag out for Levi. “I put in some of my chicken, and a few biscuits, and a big slice of apple pie. You come back, you here?”

“Yes, ma’am. I’ll do that. Thank you for everything. I’m glad Terry has such good care. Makes me feel better,” Levi said.

“Aren’t you sweet,” Mrs. Brown said, kissing Levi’s cheek.

“Unhand my woman. We’ve gots to get goin’, boy.”

It was a five year old sedan that hadn’t been washed in four years. There were dents in the fenders, the side windows were too dirty to see out of, but the windshield was clean, and the engine sounded powerful. No one would suspect it was a police car. Levi had a hard time believing it was.

Mr. Brown was a careful driver, but he didn’t waste any time.

Levi was at a loss for something to say. Mr. Brown did have that problem.

“Want to tell me what you’re doing down here, son?” Mr. Brown asked, sounding like a cop. “I can tell you are no fool, but you did a foolish thing. I want to know why you came to see Terry today. He was shot nearly two months ago.”

“I came to see Terry,” Levi said, no give in his voice. “That’s all.”

“I’ll say it again. He was shot two months ago. What took you so long? You just didn’t think to yourself this morning, I think I be going to see that black boy who got himself shot, boy. Few white folks feel comfortable coming to Southside.”

“That’s what I did. I’ve been thinking about it. I didn’t know what happened to him. He stopped coming to track meets. My journalism teacher sent me to the City News, and they found the article about a ‘Promising sprinter,’ being shot on his way home from practice. Your address was in the article,” Levi said.

“I remember it,” Mr. Brown said. “They planned a larger article with pictures, and a running account of his recovery. They talked to me about it. I told the editor, he was going to stir up a passel of trouble over what happened to Terry, if he did that. He’d never thought about it, and my people talked to his people, and they killed the article.”

“What kind of trouble?” Levi asked.

“I wouldn’t want anything to happen to some white boy coming to see my son, either, no matter your logic. There are some mean ass people in this world, son, and there are more than a few on the Southside. All you got to do is cross paths with one, and I won’t have that on my conscience, no matter how pure your motives.”

“I told him that I’d be back. I don’t feel like I can say something like that, and then not do it,” Levi said. “I like your son. He is taking what happened to him a lot better than I would.”

“Most halfway normal kids, would sing and dance, if the only guy who can beat them, is put out of commission” Mr. Brown said. “You didn’t drop by to make sure he was out of your hair for good?”

“You don’t believe that for a second. Besides, that would take two minutes. Maybe it was awkward at first, but Terry and I have a lot in common. I like him. I always admired how he carried himself. You can tell he’s a winner. He’ll beat this. He’ll walk again. Wait and see.”

“Psychologically speaking, that’s what he wanted you to think,” Mr. Brown said. “You aren’t familiar with the basic instinct of athletes?”

“I figured that, but it didn’t change anything,” Levi said. “The best hundred man is always a star, and Terry was the best,” Levi said. “I’m a sprinter. I knew what I was looking at, when I looked at Terry.”

“They don’t know. He might wake up one morning, and the feeling could be back in his legs, or he may well be crippled for the rest of his life. The bullet is still in him, and there is a chance they’d make matters worse if they take it out. You didn’t know what happened to him? That’s the truth.”

“My journalism teacher sent me to the City News on Monday, when I asked him how I’d go about finding out what happened to Moony, Terry. That was Monday. They located the story on him being shot. It wasn’t in the sports page. It was under local news. I’d never have thought to look there. Yesterday I asked my old chemistry teacher, he lives in Southside, how I’d get to where Terry lives. He drew me a map and gave me the bus numbers, and how to find 2nd Street. This morning, I told my track coach that I had business, and I wouldn’t be at practice. I didn’t come before, cause it took a while to realize, Terry wasn’t coming back. I was winning the hundred with him out of the field, and I was jazzed about that, for a couple of weeks. Then, I began to wonder, what happened to Moony Brown? I stopped being jazzed, and started thinking about finding out what happened..”

“I’m a cop, son. I know people. I hear a lot of stories. That’s got to be one of the most lame ass stories I’ve ever been told, but I believe you. No one could make that story up.”

“You’ve got to believe he’ll walk again,” Levi insisted.

“It doesn’t matter what I believe. The surgery to remove the bullet is dangerous, which means it’s a ticking time bomb. If it stays there, one day it might move. No one knows what will happens if it does move. It’s wait ad see for the time being. Once the bullet wound heals, and that’s a few more months, they’ll reevaluate his situation. They might want to take the bullet out then, but that’s a long time for my kid to sit in that chair,” Mr. Brown said.

“We haven’t decided which way we want to go. Terry will need to decide, but I can’t believe he’ll accept being a cripple, if he thinks there is another option. I don’t want him disappointed. I don’t want him thinking something is possible, when it isn’t possible.”

“He’s a good student?” Levi asked.

“Straight A student. He hasn’t brought home anything but A(s), since he went to middle school. He’s smarter than me. He may not go into psychology. It’s fine if he does, but he wants to take after me, and that might change, in time.”

“I’m sure he admires his father,” Levi said, and Mr. Brown turned his head to look at Levi’s face.

“I’ve got to say, you’re a very unusual white boy,” Mr. Brown observed, glancing at Levi. “I confess, I don’t know what to make of you. It’s obvious Terry likes you. I haven’t seen him perk up like this, since he was shot. Do you have black friends, Levi?” Mr. Brown asked.

“There are a couple of black guys on the track team with me, but I don’t pay them any mind. I don’t pay most of my white teammates any mind, either. I’m there for one thing,” Levi explained.

Mr. Brown laughed.

“I think most boys who are head and shoulders above other boys, feel similarly about what they’re doing,” Mr. Brown said. “You don’t seem a lot different from Terry. He has similar thoughts about being on a team.”

“To tell you the truth, I didn’t think about where I was going, Mr. Brown. I mean it being Southside, and Southside being more black than white. Until I sat at your dinner table, and we talked about how it is for you, I still had given any though about my race. About us living in different worlds.”

“When Lincoln was reelected, he gave one of the most memorable inaugural speeches ever given. It’s probably second only to the speech he gave at Gettysburg. I happen to believe the inaugural speech was more significant, at the time he gave it. The Civil War had ended, and Lincoln got reelected. He wanted the country to heal. He wanted the people to have forgiveness in their hearts. “Malice toward none, charity for all,” was the way he put it. He had a plan to bring the North and the South back together, and he had a plan to integrate black citizens into the Union that was healing, after the war,” Mr. Brown said.

“He was shot a few days later, and Andrew Johnson was a southerner from Tennessee. He had no charity for anyone, and malice for all people of color. We ended up with Jim Crow, and blacks were treated worse than farm animals in the South. They kept white people and black people segregated, for a hundred years, and that’s why we have what we have. People who always seem to be in power, know that by keeping blacks and whites separate and unequal, that will so preoccupy us, we won’t realize they’re stealing the country blind. Politicians. Rich people buy politicians, and they ass laws to benefit the rich, making them richer. We’re not supposed to notice that racism is a tool used to keep the people at bay. We have to work so hard to pay the bills, we hardly notice how rich our politicians are getting, while they’re minding the store,” Mr. Brown said.

“It’s nothing new. They always manage to get back into power, each time the people wise up, and throw the scoundrels out of power.”

“I’ve never heard it put that way. You’ve seen a lot more than I’ve seen, but I know my family started out with more money than most people ever have. It’s there for me, when I finish school. Join my father in the family firm,” Levi said.

“I was prepared to join my family’s firm too,” Mr. Brown said. “Then than tore down my Daddy’s church, and paved over paradise.”

Levi looked at Mr. Brown. He’d heard those lines in a song, but they were appropriate in his case. Tore down paradise to build a parking lot.

“That’s the way they like it. They like us to think we’re completely different, because of skin pigmentation. Think about that. Think of the shades people come in. When you come right down to it, there are too many shades of skin color to count. How can only people with white skin be the only ones entitled to their full civil rights? Who makes that stuff up? How many shades do white people come in?” Mr. Brown asked. “Which of those shades of white, don’t deserve their complete civil rights, and who makes this stuff up?”

“Keeping us separate, so we don’t really get to know each other, probably has something to do with it. That’s why there is a Northside and a Southside,” Levi said.

“Black folks want exactly what white folks want. They want to have a good job, raise their families, and send their kids off to have a better life than we have. We want our kids to be happy,” Mr. Brown said. “Exactly like most parents want.”

“You’ve seen a lot of grief,” Levi said. “And yet you have a positive way of looking at things. I’m not sure I could pull that one off, Mr. Brown.”

Mr. Brown looked at Levi’s face again.

“A very unusual white boy. The ones I see, come into the precinct. They’re up to their neck in deep shit. It does slant my opinion of white folks, but I work with white cops. We do OK. We aren’t what you’d call friends. When you work with a guy all day, the last thing you want is to is spend time with him after work. Has nothing to do with race. You can only spend so much time with someone,” Mr. Brown said.

“Like with you and your teammates. That’s how I see work. We’re there for one thing, and no one says we should be drinking buddies, once the work is done. Some guys are like that, but not me. Once I finish work, I want to go home and be with my family,” Mr. Brown said.

Levi listened to Mr. Brown’s words. He tried to imagine being a cop.

“You take what comes at you. My father’s death changed my life forever. Terry, Terry wouldn’t be in the shape he’s in if I could have bought a house somewhere else. I looked for a house right where the Southside meets Northside. Several people had houses up for sale. None wold sell to me,” Mr. Brown said. “I wasn’t right for their neighborhood, but if something happens, they find themselves in trouble, they can’t wait to call my ass up to fix it for them.”

“Because you’re black,” Levi said. “They wouldn’t sell to a black family?”

“Because I’m black, and they won’t be the ones who let a black family move onto their lily white block. The South isn’t the only place where racists live.”

“What makes people act that way?” Levi asked.

“Oh, it’ll happen one day, but not in time to save Terry.” Mr. Brown said, sounding bitter for the first time. “I’ve never told anyone about wanting that house. I don’t know why I told you that. Racism is subtle these days, but I know it when I see it. People have learned not to be openly racist. It’s bad form, but if I’d been able to buy that house, Terry wouldn’t be in the condition he’s in.”

“He’s a good kid,” Levi said. “I expected hostility. He has every right to be mad at the world. What made him special, what made him somebody, was taken from him. Life shouldn’t be like that, but he isn’t mad. It hasn’t made him mean.”

“He’s angry. He won’t give into his anger. My boy has worked hard, and life isn’t fair, and I never told him it was. He’ll find his way, in time.”

“I want to be friends with Terry,” Levi said. “I like him. I didn’t know if I’d liked him. I don’t know what I thought, but your family is no different than mine, except Terry’s mama fixes dinner. She’s there for him.”

Mr. Brown looked closely at Levi, trying to put the words with the boy.

“Don’t misunderstand me, when I say this, but don’t you be coming down there on a bus again, you hear me? I couldn’t stop my son from being shot, but I sure as hell can stop you from doing something that is dangerous for a white boy. You get someone to drive you. I’ll give you my card. When you want to see Terry, if no one will drive you, I’ll try to get away. Promise me that you will not take a bus to come and see Terry again?”

“I’ll promise, but I intend to visit him,” Levi said. “It’s track season, and I spend a lot of time at practice. I skipped practice today. I can’t do that too often,” Levi said. “City Championships are in a week. I graduate the week after that.”

“College?” Mr. Brown asked.

“I’ve got my share of attention. Haven’t made up my mind. I want to get high school behind me, and the offers I’m considering are similar, but I’ll need to see the school before I decide,” Levi said.

“Sounds intelligent. We aren’t sure about college at the moment. Terry was set, until this happened. We’ll take it a day at a time, and if he can’t start college this year. We’ll make sure he gets back to school next year.”

“I’m sorry. He was good, Mr. Brown. I never saw him run, because he was in one of the lanes beside me, but when I reached the finish line, I could see him then. He was the guy finishing a step ahead of me. He was the guy who won almost every race, he ran. I beat him one time, and believe me, it was my proudest moment as a sprinter, because I know Terry is faster than I am.”

“Everyone has a bad day,” Mr. Brown said.

Levi laughed.

“That’s what he said. I beat him, and that was a good day for me,” Levi said. “That’s the only time I beat him. He came over and shook my hand.”

“He was putting the hex on you,” Mr. Brown said. “That’s a technical psychological term.”

Levi laughed.

“It worked. I never beat him again. He did seem to get faster. After I beat him, I couldn’t even get close to him, after that.”

“Oh, you’re Levi Cordoba. I know who you are now. I heard a lot about you, after you beat Terry. He was mad as a hornet. He said, he’d blown the start, and he couldn’t catch up. After you beat him, he spent an extra hour working on his starts each day. If I remember correctly, it was the next race he ran a 9.9.”

“I was there. He beat me by five yards. But I finished second,” Levi said.

“You forced him to work harder,, Levi” Mr. Brown said.

Levi directed Mr. Brown, once they crossed into Northside. Mr. Brown stopped in front of Levi’s house, which was a half mile from the gated entrance.

“Before you get out, I want you to understand something, son. My family isn’t in any danger in Southside. What happened to Terry was accidental. The gang bangers, and much of my job is rounding them up, are angry young men that have no future. They’re lucky if they have a presence. If you cross paths with one, and he’s just had a fight with his girl, or someone has cut him down in some way. That boy is looking for someone to take it out on. Someone like you walks down his street, and he’s going to take it out on you, make you as miserable as he is. That’s why you shouldn’t come down to see Terry on your own, son.”

“I get it,” Levi said. “I won’t take a bus, but I’ll be back, Mr. Brown.”

“It has been a pleasure meeting you, Levi. Here’s my card, it has my numbers on it. You plan to come back to see Terry, call me first. I want to know when you’re coming. If you don’t have a ride, we’ll work something out. If I’m not working something urgent, I can probably get an hour off, when I ask for it.”

“Yes, sir. Thank you. I’ll be in touch,” Levi said, closing the car door behind him.

He took two steps toward the house, and Mr. Brown’s tires squealed, as he accelerated back toward the entrance.

Chapter 9

Vans & Tracks

A couple of days later, a Ford van, especially equipped for the disabled, parked in front of the Brown’s house, on 2md Street. In Southside.

“Mama, you didn’t call these people, did you?” Terry yelped angrily.

“What people,” Mrs. Brown asked, drying her hands on her apron, as Terry pointed out the window.

Mrs. Brown bent forward to see under the blinds.

There was a white van with disabled decals all over it, sitting in front of the house.

“Honey, I don’t know who they are.”

“Get rid of them. There are no cripples here,” Terry ordered.

Levi Cordoba walked in front of the van. He was wearing shorts, a tank top, and his running shoes. He hadn’t told anyone he was coming, because he wasn’t sure Terry would agree to go with him. He’d show up and take his chances.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Mrs. Brown asked, as Levi was ready to knock. “He’s already pitching a fit. He isn’t going into that van, if that’s what you’re thinking, Levi.”

“I’m prescribing medicine, without a license, Mrs. Brown. I’m taking Terry with me to track practice. He can’t spend his life sitting in that window.”

“I hope you know what you’re doing. He won’t go for this. There are things he just won’t do. I can hardly get him to go to the doctors.”

“He’ll go. I got the idea last night. My coach isn’t too keen on me skipping practice to visit Terry. So, I’ll take Terry to practice with me.”

“You know he isn’t going to go for this,” she said. “He hardly leaves the house. He doesn’t want anyone to see him.”

“Exactly. He needs to get out, Mrs. Brown. I see no reason why he can’t go with me. I know how to secure him properly. I got a lesson from the guy who usually drives this thing, before he left for the day. I’m officially checked out, and I’m qualified to drive Terry to practice. Just what the doctor ordered.”

“What do you want, white boy,” Terry yelled from the other room. “I know you didn’t come over here to see my mother.”

“No, I didn’t,” Levi said, having been admitted to the house, and he was on his way to picking up Terry.

“We’re going to track practice,” Levi said happily.

“Yeah, and the gimp can spend all afternoon being stared at. Not on your life, white boy. You get out of here,” Terry said in no uncertain terms.

Levi scooped Terry up in his arms, heading for the door, with Mrs. Brown rolling the wheelchair behind them.

“You’re gaining weight. We need to put you on a diet, if I’m going to keep carrying you around,” Levi said.

“Uh huh!” Terry said, relaxing in Levi’s arms.

“There’s only one question I need answered. Your practice, or my practice?” Levi asked, as he sat Terry on the front seat.

Once the wheelchair was properly secured, Levi took Terry back, putting him in his chair, and fastening his seat belt.

“That feels fine. It was a little better when you were holding me,” Terry said. “You know, if I could walk, I’d get the hell up and walk back in the house, but this is your gig, I’ll go along for the ride. At the moment, I see no alternative.”

“Which practice. You didn’t answer me,” Levi said.

“Yours. I can’t stand my guys looking at me like their dog just died. Having a bunch of white boys stare at me won’t bother me.

“You really ain’t all that good looking,” Levi said. “A little cute, maybe.”

“Are you going to get this think out from in front of my house? Everyone’s going to think I’m a cripple now,” Terry grumbled.

“See you Mrs. Brown. I’ll have him back by dinner time?” Levi said.

“If he don’t make you bring him home before dinner, keep doing what ever it is you have in mind to do. I can warm his dinner up.”

Levi put the van in gear and headed back to Northside.

“Where’s you get this thing?” Terry asked, facing the back window.

“I got the idea last night. I’m well-known at school, and that entitles me to certain perks. I asked to borrow the disabled van, after the driver finished for the day. We only have one kid who has trouble getting around, so he brought the van back early. He showed me how to secure a chair, and he went home. He said I had to have it back by seven in the morning. The van was easy. I don’t know what my coaches reaction might be.”

“I’ve got to admit, I was getting a bit tired of looking out that window,” Terry said.

“I figured as much. Besides, you’ll like seeing the track, and watching the guys go through their events for the city championships next week.”

Terry didn’t have much else to say. He hadn’t liked the idea, until they were on the way, and then, he didn’t hate the idea. Going to his school was a nonstarter. He couldn’t go through seeing the faces of his teammates, and he didn’t want them seeing him in a wheelchair.

Levi pulled the van up beside the gate nearest the football field, and the Amalgamated track, behind the school. There was a bevy of activity going on around the track, as his team prepared for the City Championships Thursday. He unfastened Terry, carried him around to the passenger seat, going back for the wheelchair, putting Terry in it, he pushed him through the open gate.

Neither boy said anything, but Terry watched the activity around the track. It excited him in a way nothing had, since he was shot. He didn’t think he ever wanted to see a track again, but seeing one did give him a feeling of belonging. He’d spent a lot of time on a track just like this one,

Levi kept to the outside of the back stretch, as runners ran past at a jog. The season would end on Thursday, and if they weren’t in shape by now, it was too late to get in shape, but they were all preparing for the end of the season. The only thing they needed to do, was go through the motions.

Someone said, “Levi,” as an acknowledgment, as distance runners ran by.

Levi replied, “Hey, Marshall.”

“Someone just cut the grass. I can smell the balm on those guys. Funny what you forget you know, once you’re away from it for a while.”

“Your dad says that you might get the feeling back in your legs any day,” Levi said, refusing to be negative on such a beautiful May day.

“You got yourself a boyfriend, Cord,” a runner asked, as he passed Levi, as he pushed the chair along in the far outside lane.

“Jealous, Barnett,” Levi said.

The boy laughed as he went around the track.

“Who’s Cord?” Terry asked.

“Cordoba. Cord. Some of my friends call me Cord.”

“He’s your friend?” Terry asked.

“Mike Barnett. He’s cool, as jocks go. I’ve known him since I started coming to Amalgamated.

“Why do they always go for the queer deal,” Terry said. “If you think about it. Guys are as skittish about the queer deal, as anything else, and yet it’s the first place they go, if they see guys who are obviously good friends.”

“Boys are masters of contradiction. Everyone checks everyone else out in the showers. I suppose it has something to do with animal instincts. Nothing is as cut and dried as they pretend it is,” Levi said.

“You thinking of becoming a shrink, Cord?” Terry asked.

“Which of us hasn’t had some ideas in that direction? My best friend in public school told me once, we all think about it. It natural. Something to do, when you have nothing to do.”

“And what did he want to do??” Terry asked.

“Kid stuff. We were too young to do much. He wanted to see what I had. He was cool. Scott Masterson. I knew him forever, until I came to Amalgamated.”

“What happened to Scott?” Terry asked.

“What happened to all my old friends. I came here, and I guess they’re still in public school. We travel in different circles now,” Levi said. “I’ve never had friends like those, since I left. I’m not close to anyone here. Didn’t you have friends like that, Terry?”

“You’re the guy driving the van. I just came along for the ride,” Terry said, passing on the hot potato.

“Said like a man wanting to dodge the subject. Some things are obvious. We all have our secrets, and no one is talking.”

“You aren’t pure of thought, Cordoba?” Terry asked.

“Me, I’ve got a mind that could use a good dry cleaning, but it’ll only get dirty again.”

Terry laughed.

“That’s funny. A guy thinks about sex every seven seconds,” Terry said.

“What does he do with the rest of his time?” Levi asked.

Terry laughed.

“Jacks off. I do anyway. Seems like the thing to do, while I’m doing it.”

“Ain’t that the truth. You know it’s a sin,” Levi said.

“All the good stuff is,” Terry said. “That’s how you know what to try.”

“That makes sense. Never thought of it that way,” Levi said.

“Thanks, Levi? I’m glad I came. I’m glad you brought me here.”

“Your welcome. What a beautiful day,” Levi said. “I didn’t do it for you.”

“Spring is in the air, and I’m glad I’m alive,” Terry said. “You just wanted to get me into your arms again. I am irresistible.”

“You found me out,” Levi said. “How do you do it, Terry.”

“You need instructions?” Terry asked. “Your seven seconds are up.”

“You’ve lost everything. You’re still a regular guy. I’d be a basket case. How do you pull it off?” Levi asked. “You amaze me.”

“Sometimes, I amaze myself. It is what it is, Levi. I can’t do a damn thing about it. I’m not gone to make my parents miserable. I put on a happy face, and pretend it’s just another day. Then, when no one is looking, I cry a lot.”

Levi pushed the chair toward the third turn, at the bottom of the track.

“My father likes you,” Terry said. “You’re easy to like, Levi.”

“Your father is cool,” Levi said. “Your mother is cool. You, you aren’t bad.”

“Your father isn’t cool?” Terry asked.

“My father’s OK. He hasn’t lived. Not the way your father has lived.”

“We each have a road to go down, Levi. My road and your road aren’t that different. Are roads were identical, until I stepped in front of that bullet. Now, we’re going in opposite directions. I’m slowing down, and you’re on your way to winning championships.”

That was the same thing Levi knew, and he knew how wrong that was. How he’d love going back to winning the two hundred, and Terry would win the one hundred. That was how it should be, but wasn’t.

As they reached the third turn, no one had passed them for a while. Then, most of Levi’s team came to stand in between the third and fourth turns.

Practice had come to a stand still, and Levi couldn’t be sure why.

“Hey, Moony,” a boy said, coming over to shake Terry’s hand. “Sorry, about…”

Boys moved onto the surface of the track.

Levi looked for the coach. When he found him, he was standing at the end of the bleachers, hands on hips, glaring at his runway track team. No one was doing anything they were supposed to be doing.

“Your Moony Brown,” one of the sprinters said. “What happened?”

“I tripped,” Terry said.

There was laughter, but it was an uncomfortable laughter. The kind of laugh you heard, when things weren’t right, and you tried not to notice.

The boy who spoke, sopped in front of the chair, putting out his hand.

“I hope your back soon,” he said, as they shook on it.

Terry swallowed hard, looking back at Levi, for help.

Other boys stepped on the track to shake the hand of Moony Brown. You could have knocked Levi over with a feather. He’d been waiting for his coach to come over and give him hell. This was unreal. It was unexpected.

Each boy wanted to shake Terry’s hand. They knew who he was. They knew that he was the only one who could beat their sprinting hero.

A big black boy pushed through the throng, as Terry spoke to his admirers. He was caught flatfooted by the attention, coming from Levi’s team. It’s not what he expected.

He thought he’d be anonymous at Levi’s school, but he wasn’t anonymous at all. Everyone knew his name, and then Amos Morris moved up to the wheelchair, sticking out his huge shot putters paw.

“Amos,” Terry said. “How you been?”

“I’m fine, Moony. I should have been over to see you, but I couldn’t. I didn’t want to see this. I’m sorry, Moony. I just went to pieces when I heard. I cried for two days. Now, I didn’t want to face you. I”m sorry, Moony.”

Amos Morris was six foot five inches tall and he weighed three hundred and twenty-five pounds. He was a mountain of muscle, and he stood in front of his team with tears streaming down his face.

It takes a real man to be able to cry in front of your teammates.

“Amos, it’s cool. You didn’t do nothing wrong. I wouldn’t want to see you if it happened to you. It happened, that’s all,” Terry said. “I don’t expect anyone to come by and hold my hand. I got to do this on my own.”

“If anyone can come back, you can, Moony,” Amos sobbed.

That’s when the whistle blew. Coach Becker blew it a second time, and guys moved out of his way. The coach was coming fast.

“Amos, move. Go pick up your shot. Ain’t you boys got something to be doing? All you boys got plenty to do. City Championship. Don’t be standing around,” he barked.

“Why didn’t you tell me this was what you were up to, Cordoba? I have a good mind to toss you off the team. What, you think I’m running a picnic?”

“I didn’t think you’d care, one way or another. It’s just about over for me coach. You can’t teach me much in the time we have left. If I can’t find the finish line by now, there’s not much hope for me,” Levi said.

The coach had moved on, before Levi finished. He held out his hand, and Terry looked at the man’s face, before accepting the man’s handshake.

“Coach,” Terry said respectfully.

“Mr. Brown, I can’t tell you how sorry I was to hear of your plight. You don’t know what an honor it has been to see a master at work. You were something to see, Moony Brown. I’ve been around for a good while, and I can honestly say, you’re one of the best hundred men I’ve ever seen. I wish you well,” Coach Becker said. “As for you, Cordoba. Get this damn thing off my track. You don’t want to be making me mad.”

“No, sir. I don’t want to be doing that,” Levi said, smiling at his coach.

Coach Becker turned to leave the track, but instead he did an about face.

“Thank you, Coach. I don’t know what to say,” Terry said.

“You beat the finest sprinter I’ve had the privilege to coach. You did your talking with your speed, son. You don’t have to say a word. I’m glad I got to see you run. Cordoba, if you’re going to push a wheelchair at practice, I expect you to do it double-time,” Coach Becker, growled, smiling as he walked away.

“What are you crying about?” Terry asked.

“I didn’t plan that, I really didn’t care what my team thought. Then, they go pull a stunt like that. Makes me thing the world might not be so bad. They knew who you were, and they felt bad for you. I’m glad I saw that, Terry.”

“Stop crying. A man comes to take me on a date, and he cries, makes me think I’m not up to his standards. So, quit crying,” Terry said.

“Is that what this is, a date,” Levi said.

“When I show a guy my ass five minutes after we meet, the next time he comes over, it’s a date,” Terry declared.

Levi laughed, wiping his tears away with the palm of his hands.

“Time to get to pushing. Track season will be over before we reach the finish line at this rate,” Terry said.

“Yes, sir. I’ll gets to pushin’,” Levi said in his best black dialect.

“And for your information, I like my men nicely tanned,” Terry said.

“Me, too,” Levi said.

As they moved up the front stretch, Levi began picking up speed, pushing the wheelchair faster and faster. By the time the crossed the finish line, they were at a breakneck speed.

Both boys began to laugh, as if they’d just won the race, as some of Levi’s teammates cheered them on.

“That was fantastic. Absolutely fantastic, Levi. I loved it. It was almost like being able to sprint again,” Terry said.

“That will take a little longer, Terry, but we’ll work on it,” Levi said, as boys surrounded them, patting both Terry and Levi on the back.

The sky was a clear baby blue. The temperature was perfect for any boy involved in track and field.

Epilogue:

When Levi first stood in front of Moony Brown’s house, he’d thought he might stay for fifteen or twenty minutes, if they let him into the house at all. He didn’t know he had a thing in common with Moony, once you got beyond the race they’d run against each other, but never would again.

Levi didn’t have any close friends. His buds from school were just that, buds. They shared the private school experience, without wanting to discuss their feelings, or anything to do with a deeper meaning to life. Athletes weren’t supposed to have feelings about anything but athletics.

On the first day he visited Terry, in the second or third hour they were together, Levi felt like he was getting to know Terry. They might have been from different worlds, but they were a lot a like inside. Levi felt a connection.

By the time Levi was pushing Terry across the finish line, being cheered on by his teammates, both boys felt like this was the beginning of a real good friendship.

The End

---

Sea Of Tranquility, A Rick Beck Story

[email protected]

©OLYMPIA50 2021, all rights reserved

Coming soon: Hitch

Eric

After I had been home for about three weeks, I got a phone call from sexy horny Zain. As I answer the phone, I say “Hello”. 

“Hey fuck buddy Eric, this is your horny dude Zain. I miss you so much and all that hot man sex we had during your month in Germany. Man I miss those wild sessions and those incredible orgasm that you made me have. I know we may never see one another again but are you up to a hot Face Time session. tonight? It is Friday night and I can sleep in as can you.”

“Oh my god Zain, it makes me hard just to hear your voice and yes I am horny. Since I got home, I have had wild wonderful man sex with my awesome fuck lover Dr. Joseph, MD (medical School, student) and a couple of times a three way with him and his fuck buddy Jordan, a very hot jock football quarterback–two hot guys with huge thick cocks: Joseph has an awesome uncut 8 inch dick and Jordan is a cut 9 inch dude. They love drilling my pick hairless man pussy with those amazing cocks and man they know how to shoot big loads deep in my pussy. Fuck yea let’s get it on via Face Time. Fuck yea I see you there stark naked with that sexy dick at full staff leaking man precum, wow you’re so hot and I love your dark complexion and lust after those incredible huge thighs that I have loved kissing and sucking when I was in Germany, man you’re some hot dude and you really know how to dump a huge load in me. Fuck yea man, that is it, jerk that cock while I get naked and join you. Man can you see me naked and I am rock hard leaking precum from my cut 7 inch cock. Yea man that is it. Fuck yea that is the way to jerk that dark cock so fast. OH FUCK YEA I AM MASTURBATING TOO AND MAN I AM SPEWING PRCEUM ALL OVER MY HAND, MMMM IT FEELS SO GOOD. Keep jerking and oh you fucking whore, you are my slut, my bitch, yea that is it.”

“Oh fuck yea Eric, beat that meat, that is it, man what a sexy cock you have, fuck you slut, fuck you bitch, tell me how much you love watching me beat my meat, your my slut. I know how much we enjoy talking dirty to each other. Tell me how much you want me, do you want me to fuck that worn slutty pussy of yours? FUCK YEA, I am so hot and fucking horny right now. Get your big huge black 11 inch dildo and I want to see you fuck yourself, yea that is the one I had you use to fuck my ass when you were in Germany, fuck that pussy now as you continue to jack off. Look Eric I have a 10 inch huge dildo and watch me drill my man pussy with it right now–fuck yea we are using those fucking big dildos to fuck ourselves and lets keep jerking off as we fuck those man pussies, yea that is it. Man I am over heating. How are you doing?”

“Oh fuck Zain, I am so hot and quivering as I watch you fuck yourself and man that dildo feels so great deep in my ass, mmmm this is so lustful. I feel like a wild animal ready to shoot. Man as I watch you I am getting so turned on, man you’re so hot and sexy, don’t stop, let’s edge over and over before we come. That is it, keep edging, it feels so good to edge and make the awesome feeling last for so long. Fuck yea that is it. Man you’re so hot, my bitch, my whore, my slut, you’re so naughty, I love it.”

“Fuck yea, fuck yea, fuck yea Eric, man you’re one hot blond and blue eyed stud, you know how to turn on a guy, you’re such a sexy awesome young college professor. Man I wish I could be in your classes and make you so horny while you lecture. I bet you would have to stay behind the lectern whit a huge hard on as I would watch you with my seductive eyes, fuck yea my bitch, you’re such a slut like me. How many times have you, Joseph and Jordan fucked since you got home. Man they sounds like such great studs. Have they DP you? Man keep fucking your ass and masturbating as I watch. Oh I am getting so horny, I need to come, fuck you have me on the edge.”

“Fuck Zain, you’re so curious but I can tell you yes Joseph and Jordan have double fucked me once since I got home. I bet you could not take those two huge cocks at the same time, that takes lots of practice to open up a man pussy for two such huge cocks but they are so kind and patient and know how to make me feel great and man it is awesome when they both shoot big sticky thick loads in me at the same time. I have learned how to use my ass muscles to grip both cocks at the same time causing them to unload huge eruptions in me and they love eating cum, it is so awesome.  You know I am a real cum eater, a way to get my protein. Fuck that turns you on even more–that is it jerk that meat harder and harder and fuck yes drive that big hard dildo deeper in that experienced man pussy. Man that is awesome. I have goose bumps watching you and oh fuck I am getting close, FUCK YEA, FUCK YEA, WE ARE TWO SLUTS EAGER TO FUCK AND COME, MAN YOU ARE REALLY BEATING THA YOUNG JUICY MEAT, YEA THAT JUICY MEAT, WOO THAT IS SO AWESOME.”

“FUCK ERIC BEAT YOUR MEAT FAST YEA THAT IS IT, WOW YOU HAVE SUCH A SEXY AWESOME COCK, MMMMMMM IT IS SO CAUSING ME TO GET CLOSE TO COMING AND WOW WATCH THAT BIG DILDO GO DEEP AND OUT IN YOUR SWEET HOT MAN PUSSY, GO FOR IT ERIC, BEAT THAT MEAT AND DRILL THAT ASS FOR ME, WOW THIS IS SO STEAMY HOT. I AM NOT GOING TO LAST MUCH LONGER. I LOVE EDGING BUT I ALSO LOVE THE FEEL OF THAT CUM RUSHING OUT OF MY BALLS, UP MY COCK SHAFT AND BLAST OFF.” 

We fuck those dildos and masturbate for another five minutes as we talk dirty and moan loudly until I see Zain moan and cry out: “I am coming, I am coming” as I watch him blast a huge load all over his crotch, cum runs down his awesome thighs and onto his cute feet. Then that does it for me, I can not hold back any longer as I lay down on the bed on my back and blast load after load up my stomach, chest and on my face as I rapidly continue to masturbate.

We both gather up the cum and lick it off our hands as we smile and wink at each other. Then we say goodbye.

THE END OF THE ERIC AND ZAIN STORY

It was two friendship groups from college. My friends and his.  We all came together by chance while we were at the bar and when the vibe there wasn’t great we went back to his place, two groups coming together. 

His name is Frederick but everyone called him Freddie. His parents were originally from Germany, but I didn’t know that then. 

So far it had been a great night.  We’d all laughed, there had been no drama, and we had all had just the right amount to drink. It was good, honest fun. 

I lived further out of town than any of these guys. My parents had moved to the suburbs recently, but I was determined to finish college at the same school, with my friends.  It was a schlep, getting two busses into class, but I was making it work. 

So, when it came to a game of strip poker I had a couple of reason to worry. The first was simple, our rules for strip poker weren’t what you’d call “standard”.

First off, it wasn’t poker because none of us knew how to play poker.  It was strip snap, because we’re all idiots.  

Second, it wasn’t just strip, it was strip AND take a drink. And I’d already had my limit if I wanted to be able to get home. 

But the other reason was that I was wearing a new jock, but not a sports jock. It had a mesh material at the front so it was almost see-through, and it was designed to be cute and sexy because I longed with all my heart to have some guy think I was cute and sexy. But nobody knew that. Nobody but me. 

I’d known for a couple of years that I was gay.  I had fought it, suppressed it, and even binge-watched straight porn in an attempt to condition myself into being straight. I just ended up looking at the hot guys and I barely noticed the hot girls. I imagined laying there and being kissed and caressed by these muscled studs on my screen. I had epic fantasies of my first time being with some sweet guy who’d really take care of me, be gentle and not hurt me, who’d give me something to remember as a positive, wonderful experience for the rest of my days. But all that was tough luck, because I was kinda shy, I found I just couldn’t tell anyone I thought I was guy, and so I lived a secret life at the back of the closest, wondering when all this would change, not understanding how it could. 

Freddie was the opposite of me in almost every way. I was kinda short and had a slight build, while he was tall, with broad shoulders and a runner’s physique. I had dark hair and eyes, whereas he was a bold blonde with gleaming blue eyes.  My nickname was Storm Cloud because I always looked like I was in a dark mood, even when I wasn’t.  People outside my group of friends didn’t really know me or my name. The short-lived goth phase I went through in my mid-teens didn’t help.  Freddie was just Freddie, and everyone knew him. He was bright and popular. The life and soul of the party.  Of every party. 

I’m Hugo by the way.  Nice to meet you. 

Anyway, I pulled some sour faces and one of the girls noticed and asked what was up.  I said I’d have to go or I’d never get home. I said if I drank any more I’d end up on the wrong bus or passed out somewhere.  

Freddie, the life and soul from the other friendship group and whose house this was, jumped in right away.  He’d been listening to this sub-conversation. “Hey it’s no problem!” He declared.  “You can crash here, buddy. There’s a spare.  So as long as you don’t puke everywhere, it’s all yours.”

Now, I don’t know Freddie.  I only know of Freddie.  And I was a little shy, a little nervous around new people, and his really kind offer caught me off guard. I was about to be very thankful, but decline, when a number of my friends piped up and cheered and thanked him and declared the matter settled. 

I was staying.  It was a done deal. 

I sat back in the armchair I’d occupied and took a deep breath.  I glanced over at Freddie, both happy and thankful and very unhappy and thankful, which is hard to pull off unless you’ve had practice. I blushed when he caught me looking. He smiled and winked, and went back to his conversation. 

The game was fun despite the knowledge that in a short span of time I’d be here alone with a guy I barely knew, staying in his house, in strange surroundings. It wasn’t that I was expecting anything to happen because of course I wasn’t. I mean, Freddie was a complete dream, but there was no way Freddie was gay or bi and no way he’d have any interest in the Storm Cloud even if he was.  And he wasn’t.  

No, it was just that I hated new experiences.  I found it hard to make new friends.  You know how it goes.  All that stuff.  I was always too busy daydreaming and internalising my problems. 

Anyway, two games had gone by with two losers who’d had to strip to their underwear and do a little dance.  How embarrassing, totally cringe, but totally hilarious.  We all fell about laughing, having the night of our young lives. 

We were part-way through the third game, taking it in turns with the cards.  It was pretty even so far.  Everyone had lost at least one item of clothing and most of us had lost two or three.  I couldn’t afford to lose much more!

A little time passed. Some more drinks were drunk and we were down to the wire.  I was down to my jeans and underwear, my shirt, socks, and sneakers long since discarded.  Freddie was in a similar position to me, with the exception that he looked totally awesome with no shirt and I looked like a kid. 

Names were drawn and suddenly I was facing him. There was jeering and laughter, because whoever lost this round was gonna be dancing in their underwear. This game was over, it was just about which of us would end up doing the wiggle of shame. 

Our eyes met across the coffee table we were using.  He gave me a little half-smile and I thought for a minute he had winked at me again, but I figured I imagined it.  He wiggled his eyebrows at me, trying to get me to smile.  I obliged. “You look like a different guy when you smile, you know?” He said. Everyone could hear that. They had all been silent, holding their breath, all waiting.  There were some jeers, some comments about the “Storm Cloud”, about trying to put me off, but he didn’t pay any attention, he just smiled at me.  I went a whole new shade of red. 

Okay, I thought.  He’s just trying to put me off.  Concentrate.  Think of the jockstrap you decided to wear….

Cards were dealt.  Cards were laid down one by one. Then, all of a sudden, two cards appeared the same and both of us went for it. We both yelled “snap” and both our hands collided in mid-air as we reached to cover them. The table was nudged to the side, the cards went everywhere, and Freddie fell off the side of his chair to roll in hysterics on the floor.  

There was a fast-paced debate among the friendship groups.  Who had got there first.  My guys were backing down and I felt victory slipping away….

Freddie got back up and calmly said “So do we both have to do it?  Isn’t that the rule, when it’s a draw?”  

He’d thrown a whole new option into the mix. Both of them…..?  Yeah, that’s what it was, everybody said.  Totally.  Both of them. Yeah, a draw.  We knew that……

He met my eyes and this time I was sure he winked and hie wiggled his eyebrows again.  He’d done that on purpose.  He’d seen I was gonna lose and he decided to put himself out there so I wasn’t on my own.  He’d known exactly what to do to manipulate the situation. 

So he was a manipulative son of a you-know-what…!  But it was the sweetest thing. 

He stood tall in from the crowd of friends and gestured to me to come join him.  He placed his hands on his jeans button and I did the same.  He wiggled his hips and ass as he slowly undid the fly and I very reluctantly followed, my eyes rolling back in my head.  Stupid game. Stupid sexy underwear. Stupid me! 

He dropped his jeans and I did too.  He was really showing off now. I pulled my jeans right down to my ankles too, just like Freddie had done.  I wiggled a bit on the spot, whereas he was really going for it.  Everyone was clapping and singing and cheering. It was fun despite my hatred of being here in just my cutesy, sexy underwear.  I figured I had done enough and I pulled up my jeans.  Freddie followed me a few seconds later. 

Someone called out “Hey nice underwear Hugo…” and someone else said “Yeah I hadn’t figured you for THAT kind of thing…..”

Freddie laughed really loudly.  “Well screw you guys!” He said with a massive grin. “My underwear not good enough for ya…?” He glanced at me quickly then said “Besides, that was just a jock. It’s one of those new breathable ones, you know….?  For running…..?”  And he winked at me again and I flushed red and I couldn’t work out why he was helping me out.  If anyone in this room new what a runner’s jock looked like, if there even was such a thing, it was Freddie. 

“Isn’t that right, Hugo…?” He said, staring right at me, one eyebrow raise. 

I blushed again.  “Er….yeah….. when I got ready tonight it was all I had…. You know how it is…..” I said, fumbling over my words, my eyes seemingly connected to Freddie’s.  “Mom’s always going on at me to do my laundry, y’know….?”

Everyone laughed.  Yep, that was perpetual.  They all knew.  Everyone’s experience was the same. Subject changed.  Everyone moving on. 

I sighed a massive sigh of relief.  Crisis averted, and all because Freddie diverted attention and then lied for me. I was willing to bet that more eyes were on Freddie than me, that most people didn’t even see what I was wearing. I was liking Freddie more and more. 

The evening drew swiftly to a close after that.  People called cabs, shared rides, or were picked up.  Finally the last two girls left, one of them clearly angling for an invite to stay and I was pretty sure she didn’t mean in a spare bed. He shut the front door, turned and leaned against it and rolled his eyes, then grinned at me.  

“What a night!” He declared and I grinned.  Yeah it had been pretty good, my best night out for sure.  I wondered if maybe I should try to get out more. 

“Come on, I’ll show you where you’re sleeping. There’s a charge for staying the night though….” He said with a cheeky smile. 

I felt myself blush once more and I hated myself for it.  Was he thinking…..

“You gotta help me clear up in the morning before the old people come home!” He said and he laughed and walked past me back into the house.  I rolled my eyes.  I would have offered anyway, but for a minute there I had wondered….. It didn’t matter. 

He showed me the spare room, just a couple of doors down the hall from his room.  I didn’t have anything to wear in bed and after saying it was fine and that I’d just wear my underwear, which made me blush yet again, he sniggered and grabbed a plain white t-shirt for me. He said it was oversized on him, so it swamped me. It was like a night shirt.  

He hung around in the doorway for ages talking about the night we’d had, telling me he’d had to fight off Sandra all night, the girl who left last. He made it clear he really wasn’t into her and I couldn’t work out why he was going on so much about that. Conversation dried up and eventually he said “Okay, I guess you’re tired so I’ll see you in the morning.  Help yourself to anything – anything at all – if you want anything in the night” he said.  He looked me in the eyes and I smiled and said thanks and he left, closing the door softly behind him. 

I lay there for ages, my eyes closed, but sleep a million miles away.  I couldn’t get Freddie out of my mind. He had been so nice to me all night and I couldn’t work out why. He’d bought me drinks at the bar despite not knowing me. He’d walked with me. He’d tried really hard to make conversation with me.  People didn’t often do that. 

Back at his place he’d been nice too, just little things.  And when I looked in his direction he was mostly looking at me. He’d offered me a place to stay, didn’t want to see me go. I had thought he didn’t want the party to end, but maybe there was more to it…?

And the more I thought about it, the more I realised that it wasn’t his turn to play strip snap. I was sure he’d taken someone else’s turn. And then he’d fallen off his seat and sent the card flying and then made a big show of it being a draw.  

And when I was talking about wearing my underwear to bed, what had he said….?  “I sleep totally naked, but it’s always more fun if someone takes my underwear off for me, ya know?”  I had brushed that off as an overt reference to his skill with the opposite sex. A bit of showing off, you know. 

And in the doorway earlier. He hung out here for a long time.  I had thought he was just coming down off the party high, but was he?  All that talk of how he wasn’t interested in Sandra. Not at all. In fact, what had he said….?  “Girls are so needy, aren’t they?” And did he say something like “If only there was an alternative….”  How had I missed that?  

Was Freddie flirting with me? 

My eyes were open now and I couldn’t close them because I wasn’t in the least bit sleepy and every time I closed them, all I could think about was Freddie wiggling his hips in his boxer briefs….looking hot….amazing actually…..

“Help yourself to anything – anything at all – if you want anything in the night” he had said.  He’d looked right at me when he said it, too.  Anything at all…..

I was hot. I wasn’t tired.  I was confused and I was horny, too.  And thinking about Freddie was making me even hornier. Surely Freddie wasn’t…. Was he?  Was he hinting to me?  Or was I just adding two and two and coming up with five….?

It was driving me crazy. I threw off the covers and sat up. I had to know.  I had to risk everything and find out, because I knew what I’d be like tomorrow if I threw away the chance and I was so utterly desperate for some attention. Dreaming about having someone just to be honest with…it was becoming an unhealthy obsession. 

But I couldn’t.  I couldn’t just march to his room and say “Hey Freddie, are you a bit gay and were you flirting with me in the hope that I am too?” 

A voice in my head said to me “If you ever want to find someone, that’s exactly what you’re gonna do.”  I went cold. 

I found myself creeping, tip-toe, toward the door.  I wasn’t even sure how I’d got out of bed.  I waiting a full minute, listening, before I turned the handle.  I held it for a full minute before I swung the door open.  The hall was dark, empty. 

I crept out into the hall, the bedside lamp that I’d left on in my room giving me just enough light to see. I walked a few paces away from the safety of the doorway.  My stomach was churning. What the hell was I doing…..?

Another few steps.  I was half-way there now.  His was the door at the end of the hallway.  Right in front of me…. The one that was opening….

I froze, my whole body in a cold sweat of fear and anxiety and I don’t even know what. 

Freddie’s door opened and there was his silhouette in the doorway, a dim orange glow behind him. 

Now what….?

“You okay…?” He asked his voice a whisper despite there being no-one else in the house. 

“I…..” My throat closed up and I couldn’t do it.  I wanted to so badly, but I couldn’t. “I just needed…..I was looking for…..the bathroom” I said, my voice also a whisper, but stilted and broken and nervous. The bathroom was the other way.  I knew that. He’d shown me. 

There was a pause that seemed to go on for days before he calmly and decisively said “No, you weren’t”. 

Everything stopped except the thud-thud-thud in my chest.  It was so loud. Surely he could hear it from there.  Oh my god, had I been found out…?  What did that mean, no, you weren’t….?

“Um….” I said, a pitiful noise. I felt like crying.  My brain had gone on vacation and left me behind, left me to fend for myself without the ability to think. 

He was walking toward me.  Slowly.  He was wearing his underwear and a t-shirt. He looked great in silhouette.  That’s all I could think. He looked great…. I was frozen to the spot.  My heart was in my throat. It was pounding and I felt light-headed.  Maybe I could faint…..

Then he was there, in my personal space, so close to me.  His hands reached out and I flinched when they touched my waist. I was confused. What was happening?

He pulled me even closer. We were touching. I could feel the bulge in his underwear against mine and then his lips touched my lips. They were warm and full and they parted slightly and mine did too.  I felt his tongue, hot and wet, slide into my mouth.  Just the tip, just exploring to see what I’d do and I couldn’t help but meet his tongue with mine.  He pulled me into him even more and we were now standing together from toes to lips, our bodies brushing up against each other. And we were kissing, actually kissing, our mouths together with growing intensity and passion.

My groin was on fire and I could feel blood pumping into the area and swelling my dick.  I could feel his too. I could feel another boy’s dick through his underwear, growing harder by the passing second, pushing against me like all this was perfectly normal. 

Freddie pulled back a little and my first kiss was over. I didn’t want it to stop and I didn’t want to open my eyes in case this was all just a dream.  When nothing happened I had to open them, and there he was, smiling. I could see that even in this dim light. 

“You coming back to my room…?” He whispered. 

My heart rate went into overdrive. That was all I could focus on because I was sure he could hear it and I could hear only that. 

“Please…. Please come back to my room?” He asked.  

I took his hand when he offered it. “You’re cold” he said, and he led me. His hand was big and warm and soft and his touch was setting me on fire.  I followed dumbly, no longer in control. I had no ida what I was doing or what I’d do when we got to his room, but I knew I wanted him to kiss me again because….. because wow!

He led me into his room and he closed the door behind us.  There was a warm orange glow from a light in the corner, just enough light to see by.  He smiled at me, pulled me back into him and there we were again, his lips on mine, our tongues together and electricity arcing over my skin.  

It got passionate as we ate each other’s faces and he let his hands drop and he squeezed my ass.  I let out a little squeal because he surprised me, but his touch was awesome and I loved it and I wanted more.  He stopped to see if I was okay and I pushed him back onto the bed and climbed up and we resumed kissing.  

He grasped at the hem of my oversized t-shirt and pulled it up over my body, running those big hands of his all over my back.  His touch sent shudders though my body. He grabbed the t-shirt and pulled it over my head, throwing it to one side. All I had left was my cutesy, sexy jock.  

He pushed me off him, rolled me onto my back and he reversed our positions so he was straddled over me.  He kissed me some more, then left my lips and kissed my cheek, then down by my ear and down to my neck.  He kissed down to my chest where he sucked and bit my nipple while I ran my fingers through his hair.  He kissed downward, to mid-torso, now at my stomach….

I was infused with sexual energy and terrified all at once.  No-one had gone down there since I was out of diapers, no-one.  And all of a sudden he was there.  He kissed just above the elastic of my underwear, then the elastic itself, then the little bulge that had formed under the elastic.  My cock jumped about, throbbing at the attention, at this new sensation. Then he placed his hands on my hips, he grasped the elastic wasitband, and he slowly pulled my underwear down, over my dick which sprang up to attention as it was freed, and down to mid thigh. 

I had no time to react, to move or protest or do whatever.  He closed his mouth around my cock and everything exploded in a kaleidoscope of colour.  The sensation was a thousand times more incredible than my fantasies.  A hot mouth, wet and soft and just wonderful, was slowly caressing the head of my erection. I breathed in deeply, an automatic reaction and I hadn’t drawn breath for about ten minutes, I thought, and then out again.  

He giggled around my dick in his mouth.  He brought his hands to my balls and he played.  I breathed deeply again. It was just the most amazing feeling and I was frozen as every part of me was focussed on these sensations, soaking them up and making sure I didn’t miss a single thing. 

He was great.  He sucked me, licked my shaft, sucked my balls.  I just lay there like a corpse, unable to function with my most private parts being administered to by Freddie’s mouth.  

He released my cock and kissed back up my body and placed his mouth on mine again.  I responded and kissed him back.  I could taste me on his lips and tongue and that gave me such a thrill. When he broke the kiss he was grinning.  

“You okay?” He asked casually. Just checking in.

My brain screamed at me:  “Be honest…. Tell him……”

He kissed me lightly, rubbed his nose on mine.  “Hey…” he nudged. 

“Yeah….” I whispered.  “I just……”

“Never had the chance to do any…..”

“Yeah” I interrupted.  “I….. haven’t done anything…. Ever…..” I said and he kissed me again and nibbled my ear.  I giggled, because it tickled.  “Oh god, I’m such a loser!” I said with a little laugh.  

He kissed me again and it was more passionate this time.  “You’re not a loser” he said between pressing his lips to mine. He trailed his hand up and down my chest. “You’re sweet and kind and super-cute….” And we kissed some more while I blushed and wondered if the fire this guy lit in me could ever be extinguished.  “And I never did anything serious with a guy either.  I’ve fooled around a little.  But I never had the chance to…. You know…. Be with anyone.”

We kissed some more and he grasped my erect penis with his hand and slowly stroked it, stopping only to let his fingers toy with my balls. He ran his fingertips through my trimmed pubes.  I was practically hyperventilating, his touch driving me totally crazy and the thoughts in my head making me dizzy. 

I uttered three words which took more courage to form and say out loud than any words I said before or since.  I don’t know how I managed it, I just knew I wanted him and I couldn’t allow this to end yet. 

“Please….. fuck me……”

He raised his head so he could look at me, his face serious all of a sudden. I could see the longing in his beautiful ocean-blue eyes. I felt his pulse quicken and his body shifted against mine, pressing harder and grinding against me like it was ready to go. 

“You sure…….?”

I nodded.  I couldn’t say anything else because having got those words out I was absolutely broken.  But I knew what I wanted.  I hadn’t wanted anything more than this in my entire life and I knew I was ready.  And I knew Freddie was the one. 

He lowered his head, his face close to mine.  I could feel his breath on me, ragged and lustful. He kissed me and we grasped one another, our hands exploring each other’s bodies as we writhed around on his bed.  

I pulled his t-shirt off his body and pushed him back. I straddled him, sucked on his nipples and play with his pecks.  His body was firm and strong, such a contrast to mine. I wanted to suck him, despite never having been so close to another guy’s penis. I slid down his body and tugged on his boxer-briefs, pulling them all the way down and off, past his feet.  I tossed them down by the side of the bed.

Freddy had hairy legs, unlike mine.  They were definitely more manly than mine.  They were slim but taught and I ran my hands all the way up until I got back to where I wanted to be:  his beautiful hard penis.  It was standing upright, twitching. The veins along the shaft were popping. It had a slim head, but the shaft had more girth than mine and it was a little longer, too.  I looked at it, examining it. I touched it and he groaned a little, my touch making him flinch and squirm. 

Fuck it, I thought, and I opened wide and took him as far back in my throat as I could.  I caressed him with my tongue and pushed him into my cheek where I moved my head up and down.  I wanted to please him so much, just like he had pleased me. 

I caressed his thighs and scrotum, being careful and every so gentle with his balls.  I was dribbling down his shaft but I didn’t care.  I loved the taste of him, loved the saltiness than was building. It was my first time giving a blowjob, and I was enjoying it far more than I thought I would. 

He pulled me off him and practically dragged me up to his face to kiss me some more.  

“Was it no good?” I asked, a little disappointed.  I had tried so hard. 

He giggled and kissed me long and slow and deep, his hands trailing slowly down my spine and tracing circles of fire around the base of my spine.  

“It was a little too good” he said. I raised my head, confused, but when I saw his broad grin I got it.  

“Oh, you…..”

“Yeah” he said.  “And I don’t wanna come yet. Okay?”

“Yeah. Okay….” I said.  “It was my f….”

But I couldn’t finish the sentence because he was kissing me again.  His hands dropped to my bottom, squeezing and kneading. I pushed back with my hips, desperate for him to touch me there, in that one place where I really wanted his fingers. 

And then he did it.  

My whole world exploded with showers of sparks as he trailed a single finger across my asshole.  I whimpered and put my head down beside his and he got the message.  He touched me there again, two fingers now, then both hands.  They played and probed and pulled and pushed and it felt so fucking good that I almost came just from that.  No-one had touched me there, and certainly not like this.  

Freddie moved me off him, slid me to one side so I was laying face down on the bed.  He moved behind me and I hoped beyond hope he was going to kiss me there…..and he did.  He spread my pale cheeks with both hands then buried his face and lapped at my hole with his tongue.  I was in heaven.  It was bliss.  

He began to use his fingers to probe while he licked and lapped with his tongue.  I pushed my ass right up, the clearest sign I could give that I wanted more, and more, and more. 

Then the tip of his thumb slipped almost effortlessly through my ring, past my virgin sphincter, and inside me.  I almost cried it was so good. I could feel it there holding me open, moving slowly and gently within me, while his fingers created sparks on my skin and his tongue melted me. 

He fingered me.  I was so relaxed and he was so gentle, he had two fingers inside me before I knew it.  He was pushing them in, right up to the second knuckle, and then twisting them and caressing the wall of my rectum before removing them and doing it all over again.  I could feel he was pulling on my ring each time, spreading his fingers slightly as he withdrew them, pulling me open.  

He took a quick break to reach under his bed and grab a tube of lube, which he squirted into my ass.  “I’m gonna use lots because…..” And he never finished the sentence, and he didn’t need to.  He went back to fingering me, and now it was even better than before.  

Suddenly, “Oh! Shit!” He exclaimed.  I turned.  What was it?  “I don’t have any…. I meant to get some more but I…..”

I realised what he meant and I can’t think of time when I cared less about something, least of all condoms. I rolled over onto my back and pulled him to me, pulled him back on top of me.  “Don’t care” I said between kisses on my mouth, his cheek, his neck. He giggled and grabbed my legs, brought them back. 

“You sur…….”

“Don’t care!” I said, my fingers touching his face.  To emphasis the point I reached down and grasped his penis.  It was throbbing. So hard, but it was no toy. No hard edges, just flesh and skin and inner warmth.  I pulled it toward my hole as I pulled my legs back to give him access.  

He got the message.  He smiled a lop-sided smile and lay forward. I wrapped my legs around him, pulling him in more. I lined him up and he thrust with his hips. He pushed. There was a strength to it, but he was being gentle and delicate and he was staring into my eyes as he did it. 

For my part I was relaxed and lost in his baby-blues. I gasped slightly as I felt the tip press forward. There was no difficult part, no popping as the head finally lurched through an impenetrable ring of muscle…. Just a soft, gentle, unstoppable gliding of his hard dick as it spread my hole open and slid inside me. 

I exhaled deeply and shifted my body, moving myself around to feel more of him inside me.  And I could feel it.  All of it.  It was like my senses had truly come alive and I could feel everything. I looked back up at him, looked Freddie in his eyes and I parted my lips for a kiss.  His eyes were wide, the realisation of what he was doing written across his face.  He saw me, seemed to see right through to my soul, and he lowered his head so that we could kiss.  He thrust more as our lips met, sliding the rest of him all the way in. 

We lay like that, my arms and legs around him, pulling him in, my lips on his.  He ground gently against me, pushing up into me, skin on skin from hips to nipples.  I could feel my cock rubbing against his muscular stomach, adding to the thrill. 

He stopped kissing me and looked deep into my eyes, wonder in his. “This is so good” he said.  

I smiled.  “So good” I agreed. 

I pushed him, somehow rolled him over onto his back.  His cock slid out of me but I got up on top of it almost immediately.  My knees planted either side of him, his hands on my thighs, I lowered myself down and impaled myself on him. I sat right back, taking him all the way, feeling the head of his dick deep in me. I close my eyes and look up, then I rose up on my knees, and fell back down.  

He traced his fingers over my midsection, playing with my belly button and pubic hair with one hand while he grasped my erection with the other.  I bounced up and down on him, making him moan loudly.  I was whimpering.  The rise and fall, that movement of him sliding in and out, was magnificent.  

I began to feel a glow. It started around my hole and spread to encapsulate my scrotum, my balls, and then my penis.  It was like an electric warmth that was building, getting hotter, sparking more, urging me to rise and fall faster, to move my hips in a certain way, that drove his dick against the wall of my insides in a wonderful way. 

“Oh god…oh god….” He was saying, but I was lost in my own sensations.  “Oh god…I can’t….oh god….” 

Oh god was right.  I knew what this was now.  It was a the longest build-up to an orgasm, ever.  I couldn’t stop. I was past the point where anything could stop it.  I rose and fell faster and harder and more, while he touched me. He was lost, his eyes rolled back in his head. I don’t even think he knew he was touching me any more. 

He gave a final “Oh…..god……” in a strangled voice before he pushed up off the bed, his hips flexing up and pushing into me.  I felt his penis expand and throb and pulse and I felt the sensation of hot wet fluid being pumped into me. 

My eyes went wide and time seemed to stand still, and then I cried out as my own cock throbbed and a huge string of cum shot right up Freddie’s chest.  I stopped bouncing and he stopped moving as we both pumped our balls dry.  It was the most earth-moving orgasm I had ever had, being filled up on the inside while I emptied myself over this hot boy underneath me. 

I collapsed down on Freddie and he caught me and held me tightly, his hands caressing my back, the back of my head, my neck. 

Neither of us could move.  We were temporarily spent, exhausted.  It had been wonderful and new and exciting, but most of all it had been like my dreams. Soft, gentle, loving. There was no pain, not even any discomfort.  Just passionate sex. 

Eventually he made a “phew” sound.  “Oh, My, God!” He said and he chuckled.  I giggled. 

“You were incredible” I said.  

“Me…? You were, you mean!” He replied. 

Both together, both at the same time, we said “I have never…..” And we burst out laughing. 

He gently lifted me off him, sliding himself out of my passage and laying me next to him.  He snuggled down next to me, on his back. I put my arm over his chest.  He put his behind me, pulling me in close.  It was so….lovely. Like something a boyfriend would do. 

“I really want to get to know you better, Hugo” he said, squeezing with his arm. 

“Does that mean doing this again?” I ask with a cheeky smile that he couldn’t see, but I hoped he could feel. 

He sniggered.  “I hope so!” He said.  There was a pause and then he said “I really like you, and I haven’t liked anyone for a long time. Not since I realised about myself…..” 

I got up on one elbow and looked down at him.  “I really like you too” I said.  “I’d like to get to know you”It was my turn to pause.  Then, with a small tear in my eye I said “Thank you…” 

He cupped my face and brought me in for a kiss.  “Why are you thanking me….?” 

“Because you were so kind and gentle and you took your time and didn’t rush…. You made it great. Really wonderful. You made my first time everything I wanted, and more.”

He kissed me again.  “It was my first time, too, and I’ll remember it forever.  And how could I be anything else with your beautiful, delicate body….?” 

I laughed a little and he faked being hurt.  “My skinny, rubbish body!” I said. 

He ran a hand down my back and squeezed my bottom. “You have a totally awesome body” he said with genuine sincerity.  “Come here, let’s snuggle.”

I had epic fantasies of my first time being with some sweet guy who’d really take care of me, be gentle and not hurt me, who’d give me something to remember as a positive, wonderful experience for the rest of my days. I used to wonder when  everything would change, not understanding how it could. And tonight it did, out of nowhere, in the most unexpected way. 

I draped my arm back over his chest and snuggled into his warm body.  As I close my eyes and dozed off, the beat of his heart lulling me to sleep, I dreamed of what tomorrow might bring. And the day after. And the day after that. 

When I was in my early 20’s, I managed a store in a mall. At that time I was playing lots of tennis and lifting weights, I was tanned, and in shape. I was also deeply closeted, and somewhat inexperienced with gay sex. My experience at that point had been jerk offs in restrooms or cruising areas. 

it was a fairly busy weeknight as it was getting closer to the holidays and in walks this man that catches my eye instantaneously. He was at least 6’4”, thick blonde hair, blue eyes, and wearing a navy blue suit without a tie. First 2 buttons of his shirt undone revealing wisps of curly chest hair. He appeared to be in his mid to late 20’s. He walked into the store with a confident swagger. 

I was a bit shy back in that time, but I did walk over and ask if needed help finding anything. When he spoke, his deep sultry voice resonated and his tone was so sexy. He began to tell me it was his brother’s birthday that weekend and he wanted to buy him a lava lamp. He caught me staring into his eyes and smiled and paused before continuing to ask what colors I might suggest.

as we walked over toward the lava lamps, he extended his hand and said his name was James. My hands were sweaty, he made me so excited but I was nervous. I should him some color combinations, and as we looked, he told me he was a lawyer and I told him I was in graduate school. 

At the register, as he purchased our top seller, the purple with clear fluid, he slipped me his card and said I should call him later when the store closed. He said he lived only 15 minutes away. Then he leans over and whispers, “you have a geat ass.”

my staff witnessed this exchange and I turned beet red. I wasn’t out, and I was mortified. A few of them smirked, but said nothing as they saw my humiliation. We cleaned the store and closed out the register and one employee chuckled, “have fun tonight” and I was now alone in the store.

I pulled out his card from my pants and stared at it a few minutes before placing the call. I almost shot my nut when he pjcked up the phone and said “hello. My voice was shaking as I told him it was me from the store. He said he’d hoped I would call and that he’d been thinking about taking my ass ever since he saw me bending down to find his lava lamp. 

He invited me over to his apartment and I accepted this invitation . I was still living with my parents at the time, and although 22 years old, was still treated as a teenager and I had to inform them that I was going out with friends after work. I don’t think my mother believed me, but she told me to have a nice time and to be safe. (Years later she’d tell me that she knew I was lying when I made that call.)

I drove over a nervous wreck. When I came up to his apartment I was a sweaty mess, but I didn’t back out. When James greeted me at the door he was wearing a deep cut v-neck white t-shirt and jeans. That smile was infectious. 

Timidly, I entered and he hugged me and had me sit on the sofa and brought me a beer. He could sense I was unsure of myself so he walked behind md and massaged my shoulders while we talked.  After a few minutes, I began to relax and James suggested perhaps I’d like a shower, to which I agreed. 

Wrapped in the towel he’d given me after showering, James was already in his queen bed, wearing a black pair of briefs, shirtless. “Come lay down next to me”, he said as he patted the mattress.

I kept the towel around my waist and laid down next to him. He then leaned in and his mouth met mine. The first kiss I’d had with a man was exhilarating. Feeling the scratch of his rough beard against my soft face. Our tongues meeting…it was all very intense. 

He paused and whispered into my ear, “i knew you’d let me take that ass tonight. You make my dick so hard I can’t wait to get in there.” Then he kissed me again and kissed down my neck. He moved slowly and kissed down to my hairy pec and chewed on my nipple kissing down my treasure trail, licking the underside of my cock and then my balls, and the he pushed my legs back and began to eat my hole out. I’d not really been rimmed before and it was mind blowing. 

James paused for a moment and pulled out some lube and a small brown bottle. I’d not seen poppers before, and he opened the bottle and brought it up to his nose and inhaled in each nostril and he then held it up to my nose and mimicked him. I remember turning red and flush as the overpowering sensation moved through me, and when his tongue resumed to swipe my pucker I let out an uninhibited moan and I grabbed my dick into my fist. 

Janes knocked my hand away and scolded me, “not yet. You cum when I tell you”. Then he flipped me over so now ge was on his back and I was straddling him. He pulled my head down and I could taste my hole on his lips. It tasted soapy, but good. Then I kissed down his chest and worked his nipples with my lips. Tongue and teeth. I could feel the warmth of his solid 8 inch boner rubbing into my crack, it felt wet from precum.

”suck me. Suck my dick”, James demanded. We were now in a 69 position, sucking each other’s dicks and James shoved a lubed finger into my ass. We did another hit of poppers each and I felt my hole relaxing and taking 2 fingers.

”I need to fuck that ass now.”. 

James flipped me onto my back and propped my legs over his strong shoulders as he lubed my hole and slowly sank his cock inside me until he hit bottom. He kissed me through the initial penetration as we waited for the pain to subside and then James looked into my eyes as he hips began a gentle thrust.  It felt terrific, again a made a move to stroke my cock and James took my wrists into his hands and pinned them down onto the mattress, “you’re a bad boy, aren’t you.”, and he thrusted inside, this time harder and deeper. 

“don’t worry, boy, you’ll get to cum. I promise, but only when I saw. Tell me you understand” 

I shook my head up and down to acknowledge this instruction. “No, repeat back to me what I just said”, James demanded. “I can cum when you tell me to”, I grunted through his pelvic thrusts. 
“that’s a good boy. Your ass feels better than I imagined. Such a tight ass. You like my dick in your ass?”

”oh yes, oh yes, fuck me.”  I pleaded.

He leaned down again and we kissed as I wrapped my arms around him, feeling his intoxicating masculinity. Once again, he propped himself up and looked into my eyes as he took my leaking 7” dick into his hand and began to stroke it while fucking me. I lifted my arms above my head as I felt my cock stiffen, and I closed my eyes and I shouted, “oh fuck, I’m gonna cum!”, and James continued stroking my cock as I unloaded all over my abs and his hand. 

he scooped up my cum into his fingers, pulled his cock out and straddled my face. I closed my eyes as he used my load as lube and he shot a massive load all over my face. Wiping his cock on my cheeks, then he leaned over and we kissed again.

after a few minutes, he brought me a warm washcloth and cleaned my face. We made our some more and then it was after midnight, so I dressed and went home.

That wasn’t the last time I’d hook up with James. Over the course of the next three years, we’d played at least 20-30 more times, he was always becoming more aggressively dominant and breeding my ass with multiple loads on most of those occasions. 

Our Doctor has a shock

Phil was now on his back his head over the end of the bed. I stood up my cock above his face and I pull him further back so that his head dropped backwards, exposing his sexy Adam’s apple. I aimed my cock to his mouth and he eagerly took it into his mouth, greedily sucking on it. I got a great thrill from seeing and feeling his action on my cock. Stephen was at the other end dealing with Phil’s fat prick and looking up at me with a delighted look on his face. As he sucked, Stephen cradled and fondled Phil’s balls. They were small and didn’t hang as low or loosely as Stephen’s. Hearing Phil purr, he gripped the balls more firmly and massaged them more vigorously. Whether Phil purred because of the sucking he was receiving or delivering I couldn’t tell, maybe it was both. Then, when releasing the fat cock from his mouth, Stephen pull the balls tightly downwards which raised his member upright and Stephen dived right down on the straining erection all the way down to the root.

Having the medic’s cock in my mouth with his head stretched right back and my cock in as far as I could get it, his reaction to having his cock completely swallowed in one go, had him thrusting his body upwards and trying to twist unsuccessfully. Stephen used his spare hand to push his belly down to hold him in place as we worked on him.

By firmly holding him down Stephen persuaded Phil to relax and enjoy the attention he was receiving. I, on the other hand wanted to find out just what the doctor was prepared to do. I pulled out my hard dick from his mouth and turned around putting my backside against his face. He took the hint in an instant, reaching to pull me closer and opening my arse cheeks wide, exposing my hole. He even managed to ask me to bend over slightly which I eagerly did. Our new friend and sex partner for the night was a talented rimmer. He knew the difference between to light delicate flicks of the tongue against the sensitive tender nerves of my hole and the full face forceful eating of my arse. He added to the joy and excitement my moaning in delight as he licked and nibbled away, sending wondrous sensations into my body which shot up my spine.

Stephen followed my example by lifting up Phil’s legs into the air and bending them forward and went down on Phil licking away at his hole. The reaction was amazing as Phil’s action on me became more intense and I was in danger of shooting way too early, like Phil was earlier. I had to walk away from the action and stand back and watch Stephen work over Phil’s hole.

When I had recovered my balance, I sat on the bed besides Stephen and indicated by miming that he should fuck the doctor. He nodded his agreement to me. I had to ask a question. We had to know if the doctor was on PreP. We were prepared if he wasn’t but it was fine. He explained that he wasn’t allowed to self-medicate but he knew a friendly colleague who could prescribe for him. “I had to listen to the advice I give out to my patients including you guys from him. It was weird”. He was so cool about it. “Who is fucking me first”?

It was to be Stephen. When we told him, all Phil said was that he hoped I would fuck him too. He was relieved when I indicated that I would. “Great so I get the bigger dick first. I’ve never had such a huge one in me ever, though I have dreamed about one often”. Stephen assured him that he’d take it easy to start but that he never had any complaints guys.

“I should think not”. Phil told him, “I mean look at the size of you, you’re massive and that build of yours is enough to cower any guy before they’d think of complaining. Just how tall and heavy are you”?

Matter-of-factly, Stephen told him that he was 6 foot 6 inches and just under 16 and a half stone.

“And as fit and well muscled man of your size I have yet to beat you, though Gerren is just a built as you if not your equal for his height”.

The preparation started. Stephen set about rimming Phil’s lovely arse, slowly relaxing the sphincter which, I noticed was pulsation in excitement at the attention it was getting. Slowly Stephen also entered his middle finger inside. He has long and thick fingers not at all bony, his nails always clipped and filed so there were no sharp nicks. There was a little resistance from the doctor, but I had laid down besides him stroking his chest, tweaking his buds and gently relaxing him with gentle kisses. He reached down and was holding onto my cock slowly jacking on it and squeezing it when Stephen entered his second and third finger into the tight arse. Further rimming continued. I could see Stephen’s lusting eyes peering just above Phil’s cock and balls as he licked away at the hole, and I noticed the rippling of his biceps as he pushed his fingers deeper into the tunnel of lust that he was going to fill with his monster cock very shortly, stretching open the entrance wider so he could enter his fat uncut cock deeply.

Phil gave out a big loud moan. I could see Stephen grin. “Bet you’ve given some unexpected pleasure to some men during rectal examinations, doc. Now you know how it feels”. I had the prone doctor probe my hole once during a pre-employment medical. He didn’t give me an erection doing it as I already had one that he couldn’t miss it. It had been right in front of his face when he cupped my balls and asked me to cough. I was determined that I too was going to hit his prostate many times when it came to my time to plough his hole and scatter my seed deep into him.

Stephen had completed his rimming and fingering and was satisfied. He leaned over the bed to the side table and pulled out the lube and prepared his cock and Phil’s hole and placed his massiveness against the entrance. He hoisted Phil’s legs onto his massive shoulders, his chest huge and pumped; some of the veins where visible; his six pack well defined and hard. I immediately wanted to go up and lick him but knew that more important pleasures were awaited. I knelt up besides Phil’s head, my cock against his face, if things became difficult then he could suck on my hard on to slightly take his mind off what was happening down below.

“Are you ready”. Stephen quietly asked. Phil nodded, and Stephen raised up his body and Phil’s legs and pushed slowly to spread open the hole. Immediately Phil tensed up. It was very apparent. “Relax”. Stephen again whispered to him. “Just relax”. This was the loving and caring Stephen that I knew and came to love, though I had seen him really punish a guy who had annoyed him which was different and equally as exciting to witness.

Phil did well. He was able to relax and I was excited to see my husband’s huge fat cock slowly enter inside the sexy hole of our doctor. This was what we had fantasised about over the previous weekend. Stephen gave out one of his deep guttural moans as he felt the muscles tighten around his cock head. I was able to see clearly what was happening and was so excited to see so much of Stephen’s shaft sticking out from the hole. Briefly I wondered if Phil would be able to take all ten inches of Stephen. Over the next couple of minutes, Stephen held his position allowing Phil to get used to the invasion, and then once more he whispered to him. “Ready for some more”?

Again Phil gave an almost imperceptible nod, whilst looking directly into Stephen’s eyes. There was a slight adjustment from Stephen moving his knees closer to Phil which raised his buttocks higher, and I saw another inch of Stephen’s manhood move in deeper, followed again by a minute’s rest. I held onto my raging erection at the base of the shaft, holding it up high in the air and then let it go. My cock obeyed the rules of gravity and fell down hard against Phil’s face with a loudish slap. I repeated the action a few times. Phil soon took the hint and turned his face towards me groin and took as much of my erection into his mouth. Stephen grinned at me, and pushed more of his tool deeper inside of Phil, and started to gently pump the hole.

There was still a substantial length of cock still to enter into our now captive bottom.

I was aware that the only sound that could be heard in the room, was the rain and wind outside, the three of us were almost totally silent. Then suddenly, with that sexy gleam in his eyes, Stephen thrust harder, sinking about two inches further into Phil in one go. Phil, his mouth full with my cock, gave out a loud groan of pleasure and Stephen took his cue to start to really fuck and slowly going in deeper. Phil was now moaning with every thrust he received. His button being hit every time, and he reached down to his fat cock to jack on it.

Stephen spoke to me. “Come and do what I always like you to do when I fuck”. I stood up and walked on top of the bed and bend down to kiss my handsome naked husband with his amazing body and hugeness inside another guy. My God were we lucky that we still liked playing around with other sexy guys. I then walked behind Stephen and lay down on my back with my face as close as I could get it to his penetrating cock. It was really stretching and pushing against the hole and for me, it’s thickness and seeing it slide in and out was a major turn on. Seeing him fuck in front of my eyes was so much better that watching it in a porn movie.

I knew what he wanted and I loved doing it. I stuck my tongue out and licked his low hanging balls as they brushed against my face. His reaction was instant, calling out loud for me to keep going and that he loved it. Phil asked out loud wanting to know what was happening.

“He’s licking my balls as I fuck you”. He was told. Then Stephen gave him a warning. “Stop jacking your cock so hard, we don’t want you to cum yet, there is one hell of a lot more to happen mate”. Stephen stopped fucking for a moment resting inside Phil and I took the chance to do something I loved. I was able to take both of his balls inside my mouth. It was a tight fit but I could achieve it. Sometimes when Stephen was really pounding a guy’s hole really hard I was able to keep both his balls in my mouth but my head would be really thrown around, and I couldn’t hold onto them for very long.

This evening I was able to hold his low hangers in  my mouth and give them a good tonguing for a while before I let go of them. I wasn’t forced to release them but there was something else I wanted to do which excited me a lot and pleased Stephen a hell of a lot more. Moving up the bed by two or three inches I was now in complete eyeline with the fucking action. Still on my back and grateful for our extra large bed, my mouth was right by Phil’s hole and Stephen’s thrusting shaft. I could feel my saliva building up in my mouth. Holding onto Stephen massive thighs to steady myself, I began licking the sensitive nerves on Phil’s fucked hole. He called out “Oh Jesus what the fuck is that it feels amazing – keep on doing it – oh wow”

It was just not the fucked hole I licked around. I also loved licking Stephen fat shaft as he fucked especially when he was able to really fuck very deeply and was almost pulling out his shaft all the way. I was mightily turned on licking the well extended piss tube under his cock which was always hard when he fucked. I one orgasmed licking it when Stephen was pumping his juice into the bottoms hole, feeling the jets of cum fly through the tube. Damn that excited me so much, though, we both preferred to see our cum fly out of our cocks when we cum.

Stephen was now just over halfway inside Phil so I was able to lick his exposed cock but also the upper length of his cock sliding out of Phil’s hole. I loved the taste, even though a couple of years earlier, I wouldn’t have dreamt of doing such a thing. This was the liberation of PreP, and it was the man we were working over to our pleasure who had enabled it.

Stephen was now very excited and was pushing in further but met resistance. It was Phil who asked him to hold off. He told Stephen that he couldn’t take any more of his gigantic cock. From my perspective underneath the guys, Stephen had got about six inches inside of Phil. Not bad for a first time. He could get his entire ten into me these days after a few years of trying.

Stephen was reluctant to pull out from Phil, but wanted to see something else so he asked me to get under Phil to suck his cock as he continued to fuck him. I still didn’t mind this because as I lay on my back sucking on the fat meat, I could look up at still see Stephen’s cock inside of the expanded hole, plus, I knew, Stephen would be pushing Phil’s head down on my own cock. I have always been partial to a 69.

There was no resistance from Phil, except for the moaning and groaning as his tight arse was pounded. Stephen as always took charge of events. I never minded this as it seemed always to be to my advantage and excitement.

“Gerren, your turn to fuck him”. I wasn’t going to say no.

I extricated myself from under the doctor, and with some force turned him over onto his back, grabbing hold of both his legs and thrusting them in the air. I looked down on my prey and he seemed to be highly excited at the prospect of what was about to happen. He was stroking his fat cock in anticipation and his eyes were bright. He was talking to me but I wasn’t listening. I was concentrating on just getting my ultra hardness into his arse and fucking him to oblivion. If Phil had been expecting the same gentle fuck he’d got from Stephen then he was very much mistaken. I had revenge in my head for the prostate examination I had from him all those years back.

I nodded to Stephen to get by Phil’s head and for him to take hold of the legs from me. Having Stephen and his huge naked muscled body in front of me would be an added pleasure.

I aimed my dick at his dilating hole. I was happy to see it winking at me, especially after the stretching Stephen had just given it. Just to tease him I gently brushed my cockhead against his hole and was rewarded by a stream of filth from the medic’s mouth.

“God Gerren, put it in me, I wanted that huge dick of yours for ages to fill me. I’ve jacked off so many times thinking of this moment, shot out gallons of cum everywhere, come on you sexy fucker, screw my hole for me. I want to feel it so badly”. And so on.

He got it all right. I rammed into him in one lurch, one single powerful thrust, driving my cock into him so hard that I almost knocked over Stephen from the bed. There was a hard cry of pain from Phil, that pleased me and turned me on even more. I’d got most of my dick inside of him most probably hitting the point in his hole that Stephen had found resistance. In my head I wanted I to go into him even further. After the initial thrust, I withdrew my cock completely before stuffing it back in him again with even more force. I had the same reaction, that cry of pain. Stephen looked surprised but gave me an approving look. For the third time, I slammed into him having pulled out completely, and rammed him a fourth, fifth and sixth time, each time getting faster and faster, and hitting that blocked passage. He was now calling out in pain, but not yet begging me to stop. My arms free from holding his legs I raised my arms high and whilst deep in his arse as far as I could go, I slapped the sides of his buttocks in turn, hard as I could. My hands stung with the effort, how the pain had hit Phil I had no idea, but if my hands hurt…..

Stephen’s eyes were now wide open and he had a massive sexy grin on his face. He leaned over to give me a deep hard sexy kiss, and then leaned back away from me. I continued to pound away into Phil, faster and harder each time, and when he was least expecting it, spanking his buttocks which were now turning a dark pinkish colour. Phil was dumbstruck by what was happening. I don’t think he had ever been fucked like this before. I was silent and so was Stephen, who now gather both Phil’s legs under one arm, freeing one hand to jack on his leaking dick. Again and again, I was pulling out of Phil’s hole which was loosing up but gripped my dick hard each time I spanked him. He started to grunt a lot, which slightly irritated me, so I told Stephen to sit on his face and to give his mouth something to do. Stephen shifted to position himself over Phil’s face and joined my in spanking his buttocks and telling him to lick his hole good and to enjoy it.

Stephen was now so close to me that I was ultra-excited. His scent was always a turn on and his testosterone was tangible it was so strong. With his wonderful body, his height and his superb looks, and his attention to me, it was no wonder I was so much in love with the man. Almost as if I was receiving a mental message from him I felt the urge to keep fucking away at Phil as hard as I could. I was now banging away into his hole as hard and as fast as I could. I could feel the sweat beading on my forehead, and on my chest and back. Phil was making muffling sounds as he was rimming out Stephen’s arse. I could feel that Phil was jacking his cock as I fucked him, his hand and balls hitting my lower belly as he did so. He was getting off on this action.

I was loving the action too. I stopped for a while deep in the guy’s fuck tube, still pushing against the wall, and I smacking his buttocks again and felt his hole squeeze against my dick. When he released the grip, I pushed a little harder expecting more resistance, and another muffled cry from Phil, instead, there was a surprising surrender, and my dick seemed to open the door to allow my cock to slide in further into his hole, there was a sort of moan of pleasure and surprise from Phil, and he must have turned his head away from Stephen hole to call out.

“My God, I’ve never felt that before”. “Christ that feels fantastic”. Stephen was delighted.

“You’ve broken into his second chamber haven’t you! You lucky bastard”. Leaning into me again and giving me a victorious kiss.

From outside, there was another hard blast of wind and rain against the bedroom windows as if the weather was also showing its approval.

“Go on Gerren, keep going into him”. I pulled out my cock entirely and looked at it. I was wondering if I had caused any bleeding inside his hole, but I was clean. I reached over for more KY and greased up my dick again and this time slowly slid my cock into Phil pushing much further than I had before, surprising myself by being able to get into him all the way and feeling that delightful sensation of the base of my cock being gripped by his arse muscles. I called out in delight and Stephen who had a great view of my cock called out in triumph. “All the way in man, that’s fantastic”, and sat down even harder on Phil’s face who was mumbling, groaning or moaning, I don’t know what. I didn’t care.

I didn’t care if I was pleasing him or hurting him. I was just so satisfied that I was deep inside the man and pleasing myself. Come to think of it, Phil’s cock was hard and leaking so he must have been enjoying it. After a few minutes pleasure I pulled out and offered the newly bored hole to Stephen, to see what he would make of a second chamber fuck. He was more than eager to try, lying on his back pointing his ten inches upwards and telling Phil to sit on his cock and ride him. “I’ll let you control the fucking”. He advised.

Phil straddled Stephens neat waist positioning his arsehole over Stephen’s dick, as I greased up my husband’s length with lube. Slowly and surely, Phil lowered himself onto Stephen’s fuck pole. He was still slightly loose from my ramming and he took in the thickness and length fairly easily, and started to fuck himself when he had achieved half of the outrageously huge cock inside of him. Stephen was gently urging him to try to take more inside. I was a bit pissed at the calm action, especially after I had fucked the guy really hard. So I took matters into my own hands, literally, and standing behind Phil I pushed him down onto Stephen, hard so that he took the remainder of the iron hard tool all the way inside of him including the extra inch that Stephen had on me. That and the extra thickness would have really opened his entire hole to be totally fucked.

Stephen called out in ecstasy and surprise. “Christ Gerren what did you do that for”? Phil shouted out more in surprise and pain. I told him to shut up and ride the meat inside of him and to enjoy it and to please my lover, slapping his bruised buttocks hard once again. To his credit, he did, raising himself upwards and letting his weight sink back down over Stephen’s cock until he could take no more.

Stephen told him to keep fucking himself, and pulled Phil’s head down to kiss him as they fucked. I moved around the bed to kneel right by the kissing action offering my cock to them both to suck on. The greedy doctor sucked right down on my length, making a satisfying plopping sound when he released my cock from his mouth. Stephen followed and soon they were both licking and sucking on my cock and balls to my immense satisfaction as Phil continued to fuck himself on Stephen’s erection.

I made a symbol with my index and middle finger silently to Stephen. He knew from experience what it meant and he nodded to me. I crawled around the bed to be behind Phil, and began to hit his arse cheeks with my cock. I wanted to get more blood into my cock and to make it very hard for what was to come. As Stephen was fucking, I applied more lube to his cock once he had almost pulled it all out of Phil and I lubed up my own cock and nodded to Stephen, who flung both his huge arms around Phil and pulled him down holding him tight against his huge chest.

“Don’t struggle, we’re going to try something very special with you”. Stephen told him firmly. “This should complete your sexual education tonight”.

I positioned my cock against Stephen’s as it lay hard and deep in Phil and pushed against his tight hole. There was great resistance. I spanked his buttocks again and ordered him to relax. The battle to get my dick inside Phil with Stephen’s huge cock, didn’t last long. There was great opposition to what we were proposing to do. Even though Stephen’s muscularity was huge and could easily hold him down, Phil’s hostility to being double fucked by us both was stronger and he raised himself up from Stephen’s body, breaking the hold, and he stood up, also releasing Stephen’s cock from his hold.

“No, absolutely no way”. He was adamant about it. “I’m not going to let you invade me like that, and not the size you two guys are”.

I shrugged. I was fine with it and said so. “Let’s jack off and cum”. And that’s what we did. Stephen helped me shoot a decent load using his expert hands, and mouth, and I did the same to him and blasted off a good load of cum as well, and we asked Phil how he wanted us to help get him off. He only wanted us to sit up beside him so he could admire out bodies and cocks and to stroke his body until he shot his load. It was a disappointing load and a disappointing way to end the evening. We lay down together on the bed in silence, the stormy weather outside the only noise heard in the bedroom.

Phil announced that he needed to shower. Stephen offered to show him the bathroom. As Phil got off the bed again, I slapped his backside hard again and he cried out in pain. I had already really bruised his side buttocks. They were really black and blue. Phil turned to me and he looked at me with anger. “Why this hostility to me. The hard spanking and the brutal fucking. Stephen is gentle to me but you are so opposite”?

I said to him gently. “Do you really want to know”? His anger was now really apparent. “Yes I fucking well want to know”.

“OK, I’ll tell you but I am aware that we agreed to the sanctuary rules and what happens and is said here remains here and nowhere else, though I think if I wanted to I could ruin you”. I was firm.

He looked puzzled. Stephen also looked at me with scepticism.

“Remember the medical examination you gave me for my job in Mozambique”? He did, it was mentioned during the evening”. “It was the first time we had met and you had me naked in front of you, and you had me kneel on the bed, with my butt in the air, and you had made me notice the erection you had in your trousers”.

 He did remember. “It was for the anal examination for the enlarged prostate”.

“You didn’t have to do it”? I told him, repeating it more slowly and firmly.

“You, did, not, have, to, do, it”.

“It was on the form, in clear letters, ‘for 40 years plus’. I was just under 27 years old, and what is more, you didn’t ask for permission for that examination, and there was no result written on the form I took to the company. It was left blank. The result of the rectal test was not entered because I was younger than 40. You took advantage of me to have a go at looking at my hole and invading me when it wasn’t necessary”.

Phil’s face showed that I was correct.

I continued, “Actually I didn’t mind being naked in front of you as I found you very attractive, and I enjoyed seeing you hard on in your pants. I didn’t mind the rectal exam, until I read the form afterwards and saw no result there”.

Stephen asked Phil if it was true, and he shamefully admitted that it was. “Well at the look of those welts on your buttocks, I’d say you’d been punished enough”. Stephen was judge and jury. “Would you say he has been punished enough, Gerren”?

I thought for a couple of seconds. “Yes, I’d say so, he was fucked further than he’s ever been fucked before, I suppose we can try a double fuck again another time, maybe when we have another guest with us. It would be a great pity if Phil never came back here especially after we have set up a code of secrecy with the sanctuary rules. Besides, he is still very handsome and sexy”.

We joined Phil in our extra-large shower, soaping him and making sure he was clean all  over.  He was instantly back in dirty mind mode. “So who would be this guest that I could join you with”. His dick was hard again, and all thoughts of his bruises, and his sore arse had gone. He stayed the night in the guest bed. Alone in our bed, cuddled up and content, Stephen told me that he had no idea what I had in mind during our bout of fucking with Phil.

“I had no idea that I’d do it until the guy was naked on the bed with us. The revenge part came to me whilst we were getting ready to fuck. It came in an instant. I’m pleased though that you came up with the idea of the punishment being completed. Now we can have more fun with the man. I wonder how he’s going to treat his own bruises though”.

 We drifted off to sleep as the wind blew and the rain splattered against the windows.

Summer, Miami Beach and a nearly deserted hotel gym at the end of a horrible twelve hour day.  I had the gym to myself and desperately needed to work of some stress.  Actually, I needed a romp in the sack but that wasn’t likely to happen give my work hours and the lack of people in the city over the summer.  No one in their right mind would want to spend summer, aka hurricane season in south Florida so the hotel was almost empty.  So I was working out my frustration with weights.

A few minutes into my workout another man entered the gym.  Though referring to him as a mere man was an understatement.  Dressed in tight workout shorts and a revealing muscle tank, he was a stunning example of beefcake.  He had to be at least four inches north of six feet and had the thick muscled body that made him a walking wet dream.  I was in pretty good shape but nothing like him.  There are no words to describe how his ass looked in those tight shorts, solid and defined with no hint of slack.  Add in the chiseled jaw and short black hair and just, wow. 

I pushed my way through my workout as he did the same and tried not to stare, or drool. Keeping my gaze locked on his beyond perfect ass for a few minutes too long earned me a knowing smirk.  Oops, my bad, though it was nice he had a sense of humor over my ogling him.  A few minutes later I found myself stopping to stare as he did his glute routine with deadlifts, squats and I’m caught again. This time though I got a wink added to the grin. I think I actually blushed at this point but I kept my composure and I smiled back.

Deciding to refocus on my own workout I started on my shoulders.  Part way through my set, I noticed he was just a few feet away from me watching.

“If you don’t mind, I can show you how to tweak your form a bit to improve your workout.” He said with a warm gravely voice.  His eyes a shade of blue so dark they appeared almost black.

“Sure, that would be great.” I replied.  For the next almost the next half hour or so he and I made some small talk and he guided me through a workout. Dave really knew his shit, which sort of made sense given his insane body.  I had to fight not to pop a hard-on though as there seemed to be a bit too much touching and physical closeness.  Other than that there really wasn’t any indication he might be interested playing around.  It almost felt like he was interested but wasn’t sure or hesitant for some reason.  Well if he wanted to explore, I’d be more than willing to help him out.

A bit later, I thanked him for all his help and explained I’d be in the hotel for some time and would be happy to work out with him again or buy him a drink as a thank you. Dave seemed agreeable but left it open since his own schedule was as whacked as mine.  Oh well, I knew his image would be fueling my jack off fantasies that night at least.

I will say just the thought of running into Dave again kept me going to the gym every night for the next few nights.  Sadly though, I didn’t see him until late on Friday but having the gym all to myself was rather nice.  We worked out together again and this time it was even more difficult not get even more turned on since the touching and closeness was even more intense than the previous session.  I was in a burning state of constant arousal and once or twice I’m sure he felt my erection brush up against him.  Even with shorts that weren’t very tight, it wasn’t easy to hide eight inches of hard cock trying to escape. 

We made small chat as we went into the locker room about plans for the weekend.  Trying not to stare, I stripped down and stepped into the private shower stall.  Though having privacy in the shower was nice as it gave me less chances to embarrass myself.

After pulling the curtain closed, I luxuriated in the warmth of the spray for a just a moment when Dave poked his head in.

“Think you could do me a solid and wash my back? I over did the workout a little.”  He asked softly.

Nodding, he stepped in and suddenly the space seemed so much smaller with both of us sharing it. There was no way he was not going to notice my already half hard dick went on red alert at his presence and was now rock hard.  This close I he radiated more heat than the hot water and breathed in the steam mixed with the musky delicious scent of his skin.

I think he muttered a roughly whispered thanks as he leaned against the wall opposite the shower head. His back was a work of art with his muscles outlined and rippling.  Grabbing a couple globs of shower gel, I lathered up his back and worked his tense muscles with slow steady strokes.  I was still being careful though and trying to behave.  Really.

As my hands did their work, he relaxed and gave little moans of encouragement as I worked my way to his lower back.  After two minutes though he arched his ass farther out bumping my erection and whispering “lower, please…”

There really wasn’t any ‘back’ left to wash so I gave up any pretense of nothing happening. Grabbing some more shower gel, I massaged his ass a few times before running my fingers down his crack and lingering over his hole.

“Yes, right there.” He hissed.

With the slick gel, I slid one finger in to stretch him out a bit before adding another.  Dave’s hole was tight and hot and crap I wanted to be in him more than anything.  As he started to loosen I kept working him and then grazed his prostrate. Shuddering he finally said the words I wanted to hear.

“Fuck me. Please.” Dave’s voice almost hoarse with need.

I positioned my dick and slowly started to push into that hot slick hole. We both moaned as ground into him and started to fuck. My hands were all over him, reaching around to play with his nipples and down to his cock which was rock hard.  I was already close to shooting. Every time I took aim at his prostate he gasped, murmuring words of encouragement.

“Your ass feels fucking amazing.”  I whispered in his ear as I kissed and licked his neck.  His only response was to push back with a muttered more so I fucked him even harder against the wall. 

A minute later, his hole clenched and he let out an inarticulate gasp as he shot into my hand. The repeated pressure of his ass clenching from his orgasm on my cock caused me to shoot my own load deep inside him. Though I never wanted to move, I realized the water was still running and my hands were pruning. Slowly I pulled out before maneuvering him into a long slow kiss where our hands explored each other under the spray.

“Think we can continue this back in your room?” Dave said softly after breaking the kiss. “Hell yes.” I answered.

Bobby stood before the exhausted Ron. He kissed him roughly again, grabbing the back of his neck to bring him closer. “You like daddy’s kisses, that’s good, boy. And looky here, your getting so hard again!” He grabbed the shaft of Ron’s thick cock, squeezing it somewhat forcefully. Ron moaned out loud. Bobby felt Ron get even harder. “Ohhh, I see you like it a little rough! I’ve heard about gay cops, but I’ve never had one…until now. And, make no mistake boy, I have you.” 

Ron was lost in the moment, until Bobby referred to him as gay. It felt like a slap in the face. He began to blurt out “I am not g…” 

Bobby cut him off “hahahaha you’re going to stand here hard as a rock after you came, and shot all over the floor while I was balls deep in your ass, and deny it? It’s ok my furry fucktoy cop, I won’t out you. You are too valuable to me, for obvious reasons. You have a hot body, you’re a great fuck, and your job can be valuable to me. Now, I know you aren’t about to tell anyone what happened. But you need a story about what happened here. I’ll leave that up to you.” 

About this time, Sherry returns. “Geez, it smells like cum and ass in here!” Bobby just smiles. “He’s mine, Sherry. Fuck off. Go grab officer Baer’s uniform, duty belt, and gun.” Sherry looks confused. “What?” “Just do it!” He barks. While she does so, Bobby gets dressed. He then takes a sharpie marker, and writes his phone number on the shaft of Ron’s hard cock. “Sorry, it’s the only place that isn’t covered in fur. The next time you get hard, you can put it in your contacts.” 

Ron’s mind is nearly overwhelmed with all that’s happened. He is thinking about what he’ll tell his supervisor and the third shift officer, who’ll be coming on duty soon. Bobby walks behind Ron, and wraps his muscular forearm under Ron’s chin. “Now, when you come to, you’ll be in uncuffed, and your gun and uniform will be next to you. I’ll be gone. Call daddy when you need fucked, boy.” Ron lets out a surprised “what?” But Bobby begins tightening his forearms around Ron’s neck. Ron’s starts to see flecks of light before his eyes, and the room gets darker, until he passes out. Bobby orders Sherry to reach up, and untie the unconscious Ron, while Bobby holds his limp body up. His thick forearms fall limp in front of him, still cuffed. He lowers Ron to the dirty floor, laying him on his side, and uncuffs him. “Cmon, Sherry. Let’s get out of here before he comes to. I don’t trust him just yet. Before he turns to go, Bobby looks down at the unconscious cop laying on the cement floor, thick penis no longer hard. Bobby feels his own cock stirring. Damn he’s a hot fucker, he thinks. They walk out of the abandoned factory, driving off into the night.

Moments after they have left, Ron comes to. It takes him a moment to realize where he is. He remembers that Bobby applied a sleeper hold on him, but has no idea how long he was out. He wonders if Bobby fondled his body while he was unconscious again. Unexpectedly, this thought arouses him. His penis begins to thicken. It’s at this moment that Ron realizes there are things about himself that he needs to sort out. Could being rendered helpless first be what his mind needs to excuse his own need to be used by a man? A justification of sorts? Being tied up was much the same thing, he thinks. An “unwilling victim”. Yeah that’s it. He didn’t want it. But the next thought in his mind, was You loved it, and you know it. 

Ron stops the self analysis, and begins to build his story while putting his uniform back on. He pulls on his light blue bikini briefs, covering his asshole, which is still oozing some of Bobby’s spunk. After donning the rest of his uniform, he picks up his phone, the radio is still down. 

Ron dials the shift sargent, and prepares to give his version of events. He likes him, sarge is sort of a father figure to him, being in his late 50s. 

“Hey Sargent, officer Baer here. My radio is down. I’m down at the old candy factory, I got a call about suspicious activity here. I arrived, and discovered a man and a woman trespassing. They were in possession of a large quantity of what appeared to be cocaine, and a scale. I drew my gun, and ordered them to drop the contraband and get down on their knees with their hands in the air. They were complying, but there was a third man. He snuck up behind me, and had a gun to the back of my head. He ordered me to put down my gun, which I did, I had no choice, sarge.  I squatted down to put it on the floor. I was trying to reason with them, to de-escalate the situation. That’s the last thing I remember, sarge. He must’ve knocked me out. I came to laying on the floor a few minutes ago. I have no idea how long I was out, but they’re long gone. I’m sorry, sarge.” 

“Sorry? Good heavens Ron! Are you ok?” responded the Sargent. “Yeah, just a big headache, and a bruised ego.” Beside everything else that occurred, Ron was embarrassed that someone got the drop on him. Though not as embarrassed as he was about being molested. “Ron, I’d like to have the    EMTs look you over.” Ron responded quickly “No, really. I’m fine.” He didn’t want anyone looking too hard at him. He was sure he smelled like a combination of the biker’s huge cum load, and his own ass funk. The Sargent seemed genuinely concerned “Ronny, you don’t have to be the big, tough cop all the time.  You’re like a son to me, you know? He paused, then, “Alright then, but take tomorrow off with pay.”  Ron humbly answered “Ok, Sarge.”

At that moment, he realized he was wondering what the Sargent’s cock looked like. He was getting hard, thinking about how the sarge could be a different kind of “Daddy” to him. Like a polar opposite of the biker daddy, who treated him roughly. My lord, what’s happening to me? He thought.

When Ron got home, he went straight to the bathroom, he needed a hot shower. He took off his uniform, which was dirty from laying on the factory’s dusty floor. He stood naked in front of the mirror, as he often did. He supposed he was a narcissist of sorts. The sight of his own fur covered muscular body turned him on. His penis began to stiffen as he thought to himself, No wonder that couple couldn’t keep their hands off of me. At that moment, with his cock harder than ever from thinking of Bobby fondling his unconscious body, he realized another thing about himself. He got off on that the most. Being totally helpless, totally submissive, by force. He supposed there was some psychology behind it all. He didn’t have any choice, because he was knocked out, right? He reasoned. Was that his macho ego making excuses for him liking to be fucked and used by an alpha male? He grabbed his erection, and began stroking it. He can’t remember a time in recent memory when he’d had erections like the ones he’s had in the last several hours. He looked down, and there it was…he’d almost forgotten. Bobby’s phone number on his cock, clearly visible with his current state of arousal. No! I’m not about to call him, he mumbled to himself. Instead, he got in the shower, washed his freshly fucked “pussy” as Bobby called it, and lathered up his throbbing dick, washing off the phone number he knew he would never use. He thought about how it felt when Bobby was pounding him, and touching him everywhere. Bobby referred to him as a fuck toy. As objectifying as it was, he liked it. He came really fast, moaning loudly.  

Ron crawled into bed, and slept like a baby. He awoke in the morning, and having the day off, spent the day doing chores around his apartment, and trying not to yield to the urge to think about what happened last night. It happened, yes it was hot, but it was a fluke. Everything returns to normal today. He wasn’t going to try and reconcile what the events of last night might mean to his sense of identity. 

At 4:30 pm, his phone rang. He didn’t recognize the phone number. He answered in a professional voice “officer Baer here.” Bobby’s gruff voice came out of the earpiece. “Better watch your back, officer. I have it on good authority that there’s some bad actors about tonight, hehehe.” Ron’s heart skipped a beat. “What…how…” Bobby cut him off “ Boy, did you think I wouldn’t get your number?” Even though Ron was hoping to put last night behind him, his cock had a mind of its own. He was getting hard, just hearing Bobby’s voice. “Well, I’m not on duty, what do you want?” His better judgment wanted him to hang up, and block his number. But Ron knew he could very easily out him. Bobby continued, “My cock is hard, boy. Well, since you aren’t in uniform, keeping us citizens safe, I’ll just have to wait. Sure, I could break into your house, and fuck you silly, but it’s more fun when you’re on the job, so a rain check then.” He added, “Oh, one more thing. You won’t see me coming, hehehe.” CLICK. The phone went silent. Ron should have been a lot of things. Outraged, frightened, vengeful. But instead, he was hard as a rock. 

To be continued…

Whilst I longed for Roy’s old cock again I had to wait a few days for my arsehole to stop throbbing as the sexy old fucker had shagged me ragged.

Roy, my elder brothers car mechanic was almost sixty but sexy as hell with grey stubble and cheeky eyes. It was Roy who had made up my mind that gay sex was for me, though it appears that Roy fucked anything with a pulse.

My elder brother Alan had arranged my first fuck with a woman which turned out to be a disaster and not exciting at all but as soon as I saw Roy I immediately wanted him

Of course Alan, as it turns out would also fuck anything as he was randy as hell most of the time.

He’d also fucked me and was also trying to get his cock back up me but I told him no as my hole was too fucking sore after the epic three-way we had all had.

Anyway a few days later I was out of my mind thinking of Roy’s handsome big prick so I had called to arrange another session with him.

Roy was in his towelling robe waiting for me. He hugged me tight, so tight I could feel his dick pressing against me. Not only that he greeted me with a surprise kiss shoving his hot tongue into my mouth and kissing me sensually for some moments.

“I’ve been waiting for you to call me” he said “My cock has been pining for you”.

Having fucked Roy in a three way with my brother I had every hope of fucking his hole again too.

“Let’s go through to the lounge, it’s nice and warm in there. and I have a new bottle of poppers for us to enjoy too”.

His lounge like the rest of his house was pretty nice and he’d obviously spent a lot of time and money making it very lavish,  not at all a bachelor pad as you would expect an old rough car mechanic to have.

He sat down on the settee and let his towelling robe fall open. His cock stood upright above his heavy balls and my own dick twitched just looking at it and the pubic hair around it which ran up his abdomen to his hairy chest.

“Suck on this Tom, you have a lovely soft mouth and my cock wants your lips around it”.

I knelt between his open thighs and licked his cock from his balls and up to his throbbing knob head.

“Lick all around my knob. Yeah! Just like that lad, lick it good. “Yeah! Right on that thread of skin at the back, lick it hard”

Once I had enveloped his knob with my mouth he started to moan and I started to realize that it was still growing bigger.

With half of his dick in my mouth I could really show him what a good cock sucker I was so I smothered his shaft with saliva and wanked it whilst gobbling and gnawing on his helmet with my teeth.

Roy held the bottle of fresh poppers to my nose whilst I sucked his prick, the effect was amazing and my mouth worked the hell out of his cock.

I had him gasping and then pulling me off his cock as he was so close to creaming off. In fact his dick jumped about three times, the third jerk producing a nice blob of spunk at the tip.

“Well are you going to lick it off lad?” said Roy and I smothered his cock with my mouth and my tongue licked the cum off.

“Think I need to fuck you lad” he said “Why don’t you sit down on my prick and ride it good and hard”.

I climbed onto Roy’s lap and he lubed up my arsehole. Slowly I sat down on his cock taking the thick beast inch by inch until It was ball deep up my fuck hole and throbbing hot. I had my back to him so that he was able to hold my cock and wank it.

I rode his big cock up and down feeling the thick girth stretching my hole.

“Sniff some more poppers” he said “I want to get some speed up and jack hammer your arse”.

I indulged in a few snorts of the poppers and let my hole relax completely. Roy held my hips steady and fast fucked my poor arsehole till I was yelping and whimpering.

“Oh! Yes” I cried “Give me that fucking big cock, jab the fucker up me, It feels so good, so good”.

Some hard jack hammering of his cock in my hole and my balls were jumping and his must have been fucking bouncing.

A surprise visitor stopped us for a moment.

“Took the liberty of inviting your brother to join us” said Roy.

“The more the merrier” I said as my older brother Alan walked into the room.

“Get your fucking clothes off and join us” said Roy and my brother quickly undressed to show off an already stiff cock.

My dick was rock hard and Roy’s thick prick was still jammed up my hole as my naked brother came over to us.

He knelt down and began to suck on my cock and then worked his tongue up from Roy’s balls and tried to insert it into my cock jammed arse before running it up my balls and to the under side of my straining stiff prick.

Roy was keen to start fucking again and told Alan my brother to help get me on the floor and on my back so that he could fuck me like a whore.

Not only that he suggested that my bother might like to shove his prick up his arse as he fucked me, a suggestion that Alan was keen to try.

Roy got stuck into me and then waited for Alan to work his stiff dick into his hole. A few grunts and groans and Alan was fuck tight inside Roy’s arse and the fucking commenced.

The three of us were soon groaning and all of us grabbing the poppers to sniff.

Roy deep fucked a load of creamy jizz into my arse and pulled out almost at once to let the last drips of cum wet my hole.

“Stop fucking me and get inside your brother” said Roy “I’ve left his hole all wet and juicy for you. You can slide up him on a river of spunk”.

Alan pulled from Roy’s hot arse and slammed his brother cock ball deep into my hole.

I whimpered as he began to fuck me, the sloppy sounds of a spunk fuck keeping my prick rigid.

“Oh! Tom, you’re hole is so juicy and sexy, it’s creaming my cock” said Alan, his hands now on my prick and balls.

Roy helped feel my nuts, tugging them as Alan wanked my cock and shafted my arsehole good.

Cum was bubbling in my ball sac and I was ready to unload but Alan spunked his lot first increasing the volume of cum slopped in my hole.

His groans of orgasmic pleasure had my dick jerking and Roy took the opportunity of collecting my cum load in his mouth and then sharing it with Alan and myself.

It was a fucking dirty session of sucking, fucking and cum lust and I was loving it so much.

Later I told Roy that I wanted him to fuck me wearing just a vest top as I found the sight of men in just a singlet cock erecting.

Of course he was keen to grant my wishes and looked amazing in just a vest, chest hair spilling at the top and big cock standing up at the bottom.

I pulled him onto me my hands feeling for his hot bum cheeks my tongue seeking his in a passionate kiss. Alan held his cock to our kissing lips and Roy and I caressed his hot knob with our mouths our tongues circling the helmet lustfully.

I could feel Roy’s knob hitting my hole and still being sloppy with cum his cock slid into me right to his balls.

I clutched Roy’s arse cheeks and felt the force of their thrust as his prick gored my fuck hole.

Alan’s cock was dripping with our saliva, our tongues still wrapping around his shaft and knob like there was no tomorrow.

Roy’s cock felt incredible and packed my hole, his knob battering my prostate to fuck heaven and back.

I was whimpering and sucking cock my head swimming with poppers my lust for cum taking over.

“Fuck me Roy” I squealed between sucks “Fuck my brains out, jerk that cock inside me, let me feel the throb of it”.

Roy jerked his cock a few times to see if I could feel it jumping in my arse. I was so high on poppers I imagined I could feel every twitch of his dick.

“Oh! Yes! Fuck me! Fuck me! Spunk my hole up.”

Alan keen for a fuck didn’t quite make it, his prick shooting a load of spunk between Roy and my lips.

We gobbled and licked as his cock  spurted uncontrollably.

Roy was quick to follow, his pulsating prick splattering my innards with a juicy supply of sweet old man cum.

I writhed under his hot body knowing that his cock was giving me a fantastic gut creaming.

Roy and I were cum kissing and licking Alan’s cream, my own need to cum driving me into the cock lust of a deprived whore.

Both guys helped me out, stretching my legs wide and working their tongues and mouths all over my cock and balls.

When I said I was almost creaming , Roy shoved his tongue into my randy cum dripping hole and Alan sucked the spunk from my balls.

I came with a loud groan, my sperm shooting high into the air and splattering my body. Alan licked at my cream working some over my nipples, sharing some with Roy who was felching my hole wildly.

My poor ravaged arsehole was tingling and throbbing my head still swimming with poppers my mind still hoping for more cock. I was a cum slut there was no other words for me, a fucking randy cum slut, my arsehole free for Roy to use and for my brother to enjoy anytime.

Fuck! Was I a lucky slut!

As always, leave a comment below or email me if you liked the story, or have any feedback! Follow me on twitter @QuesadillaNFrys for previews and depictions of my stories! If you have a story idea you’d like me to write, check my profile for instructions and email me at [email protected]!

Thank you, and enjoy!

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Having just acquired his powers, Jake had no idea how to use them. Still though, he had classes, and dug through his drawers for something to wear. That’s when he saw a strange outfit, one he’d never seen before. He pulled out the black and red outfit, letting it unfold: it was a supersuit. “Can’t be a superhero without a supersuit,” Jake chuckled. It was black with red detailing, matching colors used in most comics. A red mask was there to cover part of his face, hiding his identity. There was a pouch for his big cock, but also an opening to take it out, and a latch over his ass, both presumably to allow him to use the bathroom more easily when he was wearing it. The suit fit perfectly, but oddly a mesh covering over his abs and most of his pecs, displaying how ripped he was. It also had a cape behind him, going from his neck to just above his ankles. He admired how he looked, and tried to figure out how to access his powers.

“Maybe my powers haven’t kicked in yet?” Jake wondered aloud. “Maybe it takes time, right? But then why did my body change so quickly?” He heard an alarm go off. “Shit, I’m gonna be late for class,” he thought. He changed out of the suit and put on the most casual clothes he could find that would fit him, heading off to class.

Jake sprinted out of the elevator, and out of his residence hall. Most students had already gotten to class, so the quad was sparsely populated as he ran to class.

That’s when he felt his feet lift off the ground, carrying him faster than ever before. Quick as lightning, he arrived at the building door, tripping over himself as he tumbled to the ground. He picked himself up and opened the door, getting to the classroom just before the professor closed the door.

Jake took his seat, studying everyone in the classroom. Everyone else seemed normal, and nobody seemed to have noticed his first experience with flight powers.

***

After getting back from his classes for the day, Jake was excited to finally try out his new powers. His brief, low-flight before class had made it clear he needed some practice, so he put on his supersuit and drove to an empty alley not too far from campus. He figured super-strength would be the easiest to get a hold of, so he started with that. Starting off with some trash cans, he effortlessly picked them up before moving on to the dumpsters. Lifting those with ease as well, he managed to lift his car too.

Getting a handle on his flight powers would be much harder to do, however. His first few attempts caused him to spin out and crash into to the ground. Without warning, he found himself floating higher into the air. Once again, he spun around and crashed to the concrete below. “Dammit!” he thought. “How the hell am I supposed to do this? Wait a minute…” He went to his car and pulled out the genie’s bottle, rubbing it. When he did, a cloud of smoke came out and Hadi the Genie popped out. “Man, you look worse for wear this evening,” Hadi commented sarcastically. “Didn’t you learn anything today?”

“No!” Jake pointed to Hadi. “You didn’t exactly make it easy!”

“Well, you never asked.” Hadi floated up into the air and sat cross-legged. “If you’d like, I can teach you how to fly.”

“Yes, please,” Jake replied, desperately willing to learn. He hadn’t flown more than a few feet in the air and was amazed at how much control Hadi had over it.

“Okay, then. Stand there,” Hadi said. “Close your eyes.” Jake closed them. “Now imagine the air flowing around you, like waves of water.”

“I’m imagining it,” Jake said.

“Quiet,” Hadi replied. “Now feel it hitting your face, your body. Then imagine yourself lifting up, becoming part of the air.”

Jake let that image run through his head, until he opened his eyes, and noticed he had lifted a few feet off the ground. He flew upwards a bit higher, feeling weightless as he rose upward. To test his control, he pushed forward, causing himself to accelerate. He twisted around, looking straight down, seeing the alley beneath him. He held himself there for a second longer before coasting downwards, returning to solid earth, although still crashing, not yet having firm control over his landings.

Hadi grinned. “Excellent job. But work on your control and landings.”

“Thanks, man,” Jake told him gratefully. Hadi began evaporating back into his bottle. Jake stood up, adjusting his supersuit and putting the genie’s bottle away. He looked at his phone, seeing an alert: there was a hostage situation at a local bank, which was only a few blocks from here.

“This could be my chance,” he said to himself. “I could actually save someone!” Looking around to make sure nobody was around, Jake flew up. He couldn’t fly very high yet, but it was enough to get him to the bank. Jake lifted off the ground, using his lessons to get over to the scene of the crime.

Jake stopped near the roof of a building across the street, where nobody could see him. He could hear police sirens near the other side, no doubt trying to get the hostages out and take down the robbers. Hovering near the roof of the building, he spotted three men through it’s glass doors. They wore handkerchief masks, except theirs covered their mouths instead of being completely concealing. One of them held a gun, threatening to send bullets flying everywhere. Another fired wildly inside the lobby as he knocked patrons aside. The third calmly held hostages’ hands behind backs while pushing them toward the back.

Jake landed atop one of the pillars holding up the ceiling, watching as the robbers questioned the hostages for access to the vault. He watched them for a few minutes, finally formulating a plan. “This is gonna be so badass,” he said to himself. He flew down, managing not to crash this time, and found a back entrance that led to a basement. He ripped the lock off, and entered the building. It must have been old, because there were no cameras around this entrance or the basement. After wandering through the basement storage for a few minutes, he opened the door to a hallway. Thankfully, the basement’s doors were locked from the outside and the hallway, but not from the inside, presumably just to keep people out, rather than lock them in.

The glass windows showed police still outside, trying to figure something out. When Jake reached a side door to the bank, he opened it. Immediately, two of the robbers tried spraying him with bullets. Instinctively, he flinched, but his invulnerability let them easily bounce off his mesh-clad stomach, as if his abs and pecs were made of iron. It was no use for them as Jake punched them out.

Before they could come to, Jake tied them up, making sure they couldn’t do anything once they did, and tossed their guns. Jake proceeded past the hostage room, and could hear something coming from the vault. No doubt the third robber!

Jake ran to the vault. “Hey!” He shouted, getting the robber’s attention.

“Who are you?!” The robber shouted. The robber was a bulky guy, probably not much older than Jake. “Nevermind, it doesn’t matter,” he decided, and began firing his gun at Jake. Jake let the bullets bounce off him, and quickly, the robber ran out. He tossed the gun at Jake, who dodged it as the robber ran for the vault entrance. Jake grabbed him, and threw a punch, but to his surprise, the guy wasn’t knocked unconscious. Instead, the robber grabbed his bag and tried running again, surprisingly fast for someone of his size. Jake ran through the maze of hallways until he realized he had another power he could use.

Jake had never used his seduction powers before, and was hesitant to use them on a guy, but the situation called for it. He’d use it just long enough to stop the guy, and get him tied up for the police. When Jake got close to the robber, he began trying to use his power, his mind spreading thoughts of infatuation to the criminal. The criminal stopped, and turned towards Jake.

“Fuck dude, you’re hot…” the robber said. Jake could tell the guy’s dick was hardening, and it looked pretty big. Jake’s own dick grew as well, to his surprise. The robber walked over to him, and started rubbing Jake’s abs through the mesh, making Jake moan softly. Jake knew he should end it but… he didn’t want to. He opened his fly, letting his hardening cock pop out of his supersuit. Almost instinctively, the robber got down on his knees and started sucking Jake’s cock.

“Goddamn, Fuck!” Jake moaned loudly as the robber sucked him off. He’d never had a guy suck his cock before; usually girls did it. This felt weird though, especially since it was against every rule in society. As wrong as it felt, though, Jake soon gave in, moaning louder as the robber sucked his cock clean. The robber stripped down and continued to suck Jake between his legs, taking his rock-hard cock deep into his mouth. With each thrust of his hips, he fucked his face, forcing out loud slurping sounds. Eventually, Jake had what he wanted – a blowjob. A really good one. And after a little while, his moans deepened and matched the robber’s sucking. Before the robber even finished blowing him, he shot cum all over his mouth and chin. “Ahhhgghhhh… Oh fuck!” he screamed. “Oh god!” A little surprised by how quickly it happened, Jake continued jerking off, shooting ropes after rope onto the thief’s face and chest. Finally finishing, Jake quickly put his cock away and punched the robber unconscious.

When Jake regained composure, he tied up the robber and put his clothes back on him. He tossed him into the storage room with the rest of his unconscious crew, and untied the hostages.

I admire my toned abs in the bathroom mirror. I am sweaty from the football game I just played, and my muscles shine with sweat. My biceps flex as I raise my arms above my head, and I grin at myself. My body is at peak athletic and aesthetic perfection, and I love it. I am the number one linebacker on my team and probably the strongest guy at my school. I am 18 years old and a senior in high school.

Finally, I turn away from the mirror to walk over to the showers. I slowly strip off my pants, my girdle, and my shorts, until I am standing in just my revealing jockstrap. I hesitate for a moment before running back over to the mirrors to check myself out one more time. I feel pretty comfortable that no one will come in because I am always the last to get undressed and shower off. A lot of the team has probably left already. 

I almost drool when I look in the mirror, my thighs are massive works of art, my quads rippling on either side of my barely contained bulge. The shape of my meat is clearly imprinted on my jock, and I rub my hand along it. It’s one of my favorite parts of my body, sitting at 7.5 inches, it’s one of the biggest ones I’ve seen. I turn to the side to reveal my large, muscular ass. The straps of my underwear extenuate the roundness, and I bite my lip in horniness. 

After a bit more posing, I am finally satisfied and return to the shower. I remove one leg and then the other from my remaining garment and hop under cool water. It is chilly but refreshing, and I scrub quickly before shutting it off. I grab a towel and dry off before wrapping it around my waist. Unfortunately, all the school towels are very small, so it barely reaches the bottom of my ass. That’s fine by me, though, because by this point everyone is always gone from the building. I walk back to the locker room to put on my clothes but freeze when I get there. Someone is still here, a fullback by the name of Liam, and he is looking right at me. He is also 18 and a senior, but I don’t know him well, he has always seemed shy and antisocial and I don’t know anyone who is friends with him. He is wearing nothing but compression pants and he is jacked. His muscles aren’t quite as big as mine and he’s not quite as tall, but he’s still an elite specimen. What draws my eyes and makes my jaw drop, though, is the enormous imprint on his pants. They are pulled incredibly tight over his thick quads and leave nothing to the imagination. 

He grins when he sees me and beacons me over. I hesitate, but give in and pad over to him. He doesn’t speak, but lays his hand on my smooth chest and starts to slowly trail it down. I shiver in pleasure as his finger glide over my nipples and belly button. When he reaches my crotch, he hooks one finger into the towel and swiftly snatches it off me. I yelp and rush to cover myself, but he gently stops me. He lays three fingers between my pecs and gives a playful push. I fall back onto the bench and he giggles. My face blooms bright red, but I realize I want this to continue. He is so attractive, I can’t look away from him. He blows me a kiss before turning around and slowly pulling down his compression pants. Bit by bit, his ass is uncovered, and I am transfixed. It is toned and smooth and enormous. Each cheek is the size of his face and beautifully round. If it wasn’t before, my cock is now fully hard and straining to grow, even more, pre-cum leaking from the tip.

Liam’s pants finally reach the ground, and he steps out of them languidly. In a fluid movement, he spins to face me and reveals the monster between his legs. It is much bigger than mine, at least ten inches long, and as thick as a soda bottle. He saunters towards me and I am rooted in my seat, saliva nearly dripping from my mouth. He reaches me and grasps my arm, pulling me upright. I am spun around, and I bend over to present my rear expectantly. 

Liam runs his hands over my curvy ass before he gets down on his knees and aligns his face with my caboose. His tongue is warm and soft as it roams around my opening. I moan and a shiver runs through my body as it pokes into me briefly. He steps back and straightens up, pausing for a moment. I look over my shoulder and see him working his hands between his legs. I take a deep breath and look back forward just before his fat length slides between my buns. It’s slick up to his balls with pre-cum and he dry-humping my crack, gyrating his hip sensually. My hole twitches in anticipation until I can hardly stand it.

At last, Liam carefully aligns his massive head with my opening and presses forward. He grips my hips and lets out a small grunt. My entrance has never stretched this wide before, and it takes a minute for the muscles to loosen. With a moan from both, Liam takes my anal virginity as his third leg plunges inside my body. 

The penetration brings immediate, intense pain, and I whimper in distress. But as he presses deeper and deeper into me, a wave of warmth and pleasure washes through my body. My eyes roll back and my tongue lolls out as he slowly hilts himself in me. When his orbs finally slap my ass cheeks, he pauses for a moment, leaning over me. We both breathe deeply, our bodies warming the air between us. 

He plants a light kiss on the back of my neck before swiftly withdrawing his weapon from my gut. He pulls out until just his head remains, and before I can catch my breath, he slams back into me. I let out I yelp as my body jerks forward but Liam just draws out and propels back into me. 

With each thrust, bliss floods my mind. My brain functions begin to shut down until I can only focus on the beautiful hunk behind. He is using me to fulfill his sexual needs, and I am loving it. Our bodies are slick with sweat and we are panting but Liam continues to drive into me with reckless abandon. 

It takes over half an hour for him to finally slow down. By the time he does, I can barely put together a complete thought. I am but a hole, a vessel for pleasure and lust. Liam comes to rest buried deep in me. His rod flexes and jerks, and I feel his whole body shiver as he cums. Our ecstatic moans echo around the room as his seed gushes into my stomach and coats my insides. My own sizeable dick rears to life and unleashes on the benches in front of me. His load fills me completely and when at last his mushroom head pops out of my gaping opening, his cum spills out of me and down my legs.

He releases his hands from around my waist and, with that last bit of contact severed, my muscles give out and I slump to the floor. I hear him chuckle behind me and then padding footsteps as he walks to the showers. I am left laying sprawled naked on the floor, cum still leaking out of me. With the little brain power I have left, I wonder what this could mean for me, can I ever go back to my old, heterosexual lifestyle? As my mind drifts into a semi unconscious fog, I know, this is what I need.

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Thank you for reading!