Tuesday, August 26, 2008

My Story, 2



I’m back!! Surprised? You should be; I’m known for starting things and not finishing them. You should see my room, it’s full of half-finished stuff – bits and pieces of models and things everywhere.

My mum says that I’m “Just bloody messy and lazy”. But that’s not the reason for it; I don’t think so anyway. I just get side-tracked and starting something new is always more exciting than carrying on with yesterday’s stuff. One day, I’ll get back to the other stuff – maybe.

Anyway, where were we? Oh yeah, here. We’d just arrived in Tiroroa and moved into the house across from the school, my mum, my gran and me. As soon as we’d got all our stuff inside and halfway sorted, the “responsible adults” in my life left me to it and went down the road to check-out the local pub.

I was meant to carry on unpacking until they brought fish and chips back for our dinner. Think that was going to happen? Of course it wasn’t. My bed was set up, the TV was plugged in, there was nothing else that couldn’t wait and there was a whole new town out there to explore. So, I put a leash on Jimmy and we went out for a walk.

(Jimmy is a dog, by the way. He’s a pure-bred Alsatian and he comes from a long line of good breeding stock, which is more than could be said about me).

To the right, the highway went out of town. There were only two houses after ours and then there was nothing but farms and things. So, there was only one way to go – left and down through the ‘town’. Damm small town; I could see the other end of it from where I stood.

We didn’t have to find the school, it was right there over the road. The school was the biggest place in the town. Apparently the primary school was on the same site and they shared a lot of the facilities. It was a big school, much bigger than the one I used to go to in the city. Turns out, they served a big area, it was the only school for miles around and buses went in all directions.

A lot of the kids came to school in their own cars, either driving themselves or with older siblings, cousins or neighbours. That would explain the big parking area in front of our house. In some ways, many ways, country kids grow up faster than city kids – and if you’re thinking ‘sex’, stop it right now! (But you’d be right).

Anyway, enough about the school. I’d be spending far too much of my life there anyway.

On our side of the road there was nothing but houses, a big long line of them with farm paddocks behind them. Over the other side, after the school, there was the Playcentre, for the preschoolers, then a paddock with a couple of horses in it, and then more houses.

A street branched off the main road, to the right, the pub was over the other side of it. There was a block of shops after the pub. But we couldn’t go that way; someone might be looking out of the windows and I’d get sent straight back home. So we went around the corner and up the side street.

More houses, and then, over the road, there was a park – a huge park. It looked to be far too big for a town of this size, but, I supposed, that space wasn’t an issue around here – there was way too much of it. We crossed over the road to check-out the park.

It was mostly just a wide-open grassed area, with a few trees dotted around and a hedge of trees all around the edges. There were a few people around, but not many. There was a kids’ playground to the right, with swings and climbing frames and stuff, and there was a small, concrete, skate-board ramp to the left.

That looked interesting, so we went over that way. There was no-one using the ramps, but I didn’t have my board with me, so I just sat down on the park bench to have a look at it. Jimmy flopped on the ground at my feet. I tell you – that dog’s even more unfit than I am!

It was nice sitting there in the warm sunshine with just enough breeze to keep it from getting too hot. I didn’t like the look of all that snow on the mountains in the distance though. It was warm enough then, but the nights were going to be bloody cold around here.

A kid, a teenager, came across the park, riding on a too-small-for-him BMX bike. He rode up and stopped on top of one of the skate-board ramps and sat there looking at me. Then he came over for a closer look and stopped in front of us.

For about 2 minutes, we sat quietly looking at each other. I liked what I was looking at. He was a bit older than me, (he was 16 as it turned out). He had short, blond hair, big blue eyes, and a nice, open, sun-kissed face – small nose, thick red lips and a strong, square jaw-line. His body was very well-developed, solid and strong-looking. That was not hard to see, he was wearing nothing but brief, faded, blue-denim shorts – no shirt, no shoes and not even a cycle helmet, (which you are supposed to wear).

Jimmy didn’t move, he didn’t even lift his head, but his alert eyes were missing nothing as he checked the kid out as well. The kid sat staring at me like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. That was nothing new, it was probably the hair, it usually was.

I was pretty ordinary looking really, maybe a bit skinny, but I did have long hair – really long. Did I mention that? You think you’ve seen long hair on a boy? Well, you haven’t if you haven’t seen mine. It was just straight and an ordinary brown colour, but it was really long, and thick. I’d never had a hair-cut in my life, apart from the fringe. When it was loose, which was not often, I could sit on my hair. That’s long! Mum’s and gran’s hair was exactly the same. Maybe mum’s was a bit longer and gran’s was starting to go gray. We were a long-haired family.

I hated it when I was little. It took a lot of looking after and it took forever to get it dry after washing it, also it got in the way when it was loose. I usually wore it tied back, loosely, just above my shoulders. By 13, I’d changed my mind and I was proud of my hair. It made me different.

The kid glanced down at Jimmy. “Does that dog bite?”

“Only if I want him to.”

“Oh, okay. Is the hair for real?”

“Yeah, it’s real. Is yours?”

“Of course it bloody is! Who are you and what are you doing in our park?”

“It’s your park, is it? I’m Virgil and we just moved here. What are you doing here?”

“Living, I suppose,” he shrugged. “If you can call it living. What does your father do?”

“I wouldn’t have the foggiest idea. He doesn’t live with us. My mum’s the new woodwork teacher at the Highschool.”

“She is? That’s cool. I heard that we were getting a woman teacher. Is she any good?”

“Good enough. She knows her stuff.”

“I hope you’re right. Woodwork is my best subject. I’m Joel Stafford, I’m 16 and I live over there, with my dad. He’s a teacher at the school too, so we’re both teachers’ brats. How old are you?”

“Thirteen.”

“Thirteen? That much? I thought you’d be younger.”

“You thought wrong then.”

“Okay, you’re 13. Do you party, or are you still too young?”

“I’m old enough.”

“I’ll bet you are. Cocky little bugger, aren’t you? I don’t think you’re a bit scared of me.”

“Should I be scared of you?”

“Not while you’ve got a bloody great dog at your feet anyway. I was going down to the river, for a swim. Do you want to come with me?”

“You’re asking? Yeah, okay. I’d like that. But, where is the river? I don’t want to walk past the pub.”

“Why not?”

“Mum and Gran are in there. If they see me, they’ll send me home, I’m meant to be unpacking.”

“Okay. We don’t want that then. We can go out the other way, around the back of the shops. Come over this way.”

We walked out the short track at the end of the park, around the back of the shops, passed the garage, (Wordsworth Motors Ltd.), passed the old hall, along the road to the corner and down the side-road to the river.

As we walked, we talked and found out a bit about each other. Mostly I just admired the view – of him that is, the rural scenery didn’t interest me at all, but he was very nice to look at. That smooth, hairless and golden young body was solid and compact. He had a raw magnetism and an air of muscular power about him. This was a magnificent young male just coming into his sexual prime.

Was I interested? You bet your life I was! Yeah, I‘m gay – you’ve probably figured that out by now.

We crossed the long bridge over the river, and passed a couple of girls, going the other way, on the bridge. They’d been swimming and they were going home. That was good. Joel exchanged a few words with them, but they didn’t stop. That was good too. Neither of the girls spoke to me; probably thought I was a little kid or something.

Was I worried? You guessed it.

We clambered down the bank at the far end and down to the swimming-hole in the small, busy, river, underneath the bridge. Joel manhandled his bike and I struggled to manage the excited Jimmy.

There was no-one else around at all. (‘Good!’) There were plenty of signs that it was a popular hang-out place though. The underside of the concrete bridge was covered in tag-marks and graffiti, some of which would make your grannie blush. I decided that I’d have to come back sometime to have a good look at it all, there was no time for that right then, I had better things to look at.

I let Jimmy have a drink of the clean, clear, water, and then tied him up, under a tree where he could lie in the shade. Bad move. When I turned around, Joel was already in the water and his denim shorts were lying on the stones. Bugger! He was probably naked and I’d missed it. Yeah, he was naked all right – I could see the white globes of his bum in the water.

“So?” he grinned up at me. “Are you coming in?”

“I dunno. It’d be a bit cold, wouldn’t it?”

“It’s not cold. You’ve just got to get in quick, and then it’s okay.”

“If you say so. But, I’ve got no swimming-trunks with me.”

He swam over to the side near me, stood up in the knee-deep water, and gave me a full-frontal look at his glorious naked body, before dropping backwards into the water.

(‘Oh, wow!’)

“I haven’t got any togs either. Come on, Kid. Come skinny-dipping with me – it’s the only way to swim. There’s no-one around, no need to be shy.”

A truck rumbled past on the road above us. I looked up at the bridge and Joel knew exactly what I was thinking.

“They can’t see us. As long as you stay close to the bridge, no-one can see you.”

“Yeah, but you can see me.”

“So?” He stood up again. “Have you got something that I haven’t?”

“No, definitely not. But I haven’t got as much of it as you have.”

“I didn’t think you would if you’re just 13. Besides, I’m bigger than you are.”

“You certainly are! Oh, okay, whatever – I’m coming in.”

“Great!”

‘He wants me!’

I sat down and took off my sneakers and socks, and then my t-shirt. I stood up, dropped my trousers and boxers together and stepped out of them. By the time I’d exposed my skinny white body, my face was bright-red. (I couldn’t see it, of course, but I could feel it). My dick was as stiff as a bone.

Joel stood chest-deep in the water and smiled as he watched me. I kept my back to him and cupped my hands over the naughty bits when I turned to face him. I waded out a few steps and then flung my arms out as I plunged into the cool water.

He was still standing there, grinning like a Cheshire cat, when I surfaced, spluttering. He splashed a bit of water at me.

“See? It’s not so bad. You’ve got nothing to be ashamed of, Kid.”

“It will grow.” I splashed some back at him.

It seemed that my life had taken a definite turn for the better. We’d only been there a couple of hours, and there I was, naked, with a good-looking, studly boy and he was naked too! Jealous? Yeah, I would be too. Sometimes, it’s good to be me.

5 comments:

Anonymous said...

Crumbs, I turn my back for two minutes and there are two whole chapters to read!

Good beginning - I like the kid already, and who knows where we're going now we've got a whole new town to explore!

Thanks,
Alastair

Anonymous said...

Hey David, Alistair and Tom: I´m back!!
And Indeed a new story is out, dunno I just hope the author doesn´t make the poor lad state in every chapter that he´s gay. We already knew that, otherwise we never ever would have start reading the story. Yet perhaps a certain Kiwi is jealous that a cute Aussie gayboy won a goldmedal????
See you in the next chapter!

Thanks,

Joah!!

Anonymous said...

Once again I turn up late at the beginning of another Kiwi (and that makes it interesting) story, and what makes it worse, Joah is there before me and gloating about some Aussie swimmer. He and his bfare cute. David, good to have you back, hope life is getting back to normal.

Anonymous said...

Great beginning to a great story! What's this I see about cute boys winning medals? What about that cute one from the US? Phelps, I think was the name...

Great to have you back David. love the adventures in the Land Down Under. I think this one could be as popular as Westpoint!

Mark

david said...

Cheers Guys.

People are getting medals? Is there a war on or something? :)

cheers