Malcolm, Chapter 1

Malcolm

Chapter 1 First Experiences

by Michael Peterson

Be advised that in the following one will find graphic sexual depiction between minors and minors and adults. The story is fiction but based on real characters, events, places and situations. There is no relationship between the names used and that of any real person.

As far back as I can remember, sex to me has meant getting fucked.

I think the first successful time was with a freckle faced neighbor kid two years older. It was summer 1947. I was six. We had stepped down into a culvert behind our suburban row houses to pee. He caught my obvious attempt to see his cock.

'Wanna touch it, Malcolm?' he inquired and arched his hips forward.

'Absolutely!' would have been my reply had I said anything, which I didn't. I just reached out with my left hand and grabbed it. My neighbor, Carter, either had previous experience or considered this possible situation.

'If you put mine in your mouth and go up and down on it, I'll do it to yours,' he offered.

I recoiled at the idea of putting something in my mouth that had just peed. Anyhow, I knew what I wanted, had long wondered how to accomplish it.

'I don't wanna do that but you can stick it in my back.' I pointed at my rear end.

Carter stared at me for perhaps five seconds before saying, 'Sure! Let's go back in the bushes so nobody can see us.'

I was six and hadn't considered the problem of visibility to passersby. I just wanted to see what it was like to have a dick up my ass instead of fingers, pencils, candles and the other inanimate objects I had used.

We pushed our way inside a dense patch of tall bushes that grew over the ground like a dome leaving a narrow space inside. My older neighbor was opening his pants as we crawled in.

'Take off your shorts and underpants,' he told me.

I slid both off together and leaned over, hands on my knees. Carter lowered himself by bending his knees and stuck his stiff peter into my crack. I reached back and pulled my butt open as wide as I could. He found my hole but his dick was too dry to do more than push my flesh in. I knew what he needed.

'It's gotta be wet. Put some spit on it.'

He immediately saw the wisdom in my words and dribbled saliva on his cock and down my crack. Well lubricated, he poked around until he found my hole and pushed partially in. It felt great but he had a problem.

'It's too hard like this. Get down on the ground on your hands and knees.'

I obeyed, at that point quite excited by the brief feel of his cock inside me.

He waddled in behind me, dripped some more spit, pushed his dick head down to my hole and thrust, sliding full inside. It took my breath away. The feeling of something warm and smooth pushing inside me with no effort on my part was incredibly exciting, ecstatic, better that I had dreamed it would be.

'Go in and out,' I ordered unnecessarily once I could speak.

He pushed in and pulled out a couple of times slowly then gripped my bare hips and got right into it, smacking his flesh to mine, banging me forward with each thrust. I let go of my buns and folded my arms under my head. My little penis was hard as the shrub stump my head was bumping against. I didn't want him ever to stop but, a couple of minutes later, Carter squealed and pushed full into me holding my butt tight to him, throbbing away.

'Don't stop yet,' I pleaded in vain.

'I gotta, it tickles like crazy. Don't move.'

He pulled his dick out slowly. I missed it immediately.

He sat back on his heels and looked at his red little pecker, still throbbing gently. I rolled over and looked too expecting to see at least a couple of brown streaks but it was shiny and clean as if it had just come out of the bathtub. I wanted him to put it back in. And my bloated weenie needed attention. 'I gotta go home now but we can do it tomorrow if you want,' he said while pulling up his white underpants. I felt panic grow in my chest. He was still adjusting his shorts as he crawled out of the brush hut we'd been protected by.

'But, Carter, wait...' A jar full of the world's best tasting cookies had been opened and I'd only been allowed a sniff. I desperately wanted much more. Worse, I didn't yet know how to jerk off. It was very frustrating.

The next day I was at the culvert waiting, anxiously watching his back door. He didn't appear for what seemed like all day. When he did, he did so apprehensively, nervous that someone was going to see us. My only concern was getting his peter back inside me and keeping him there longer.

It went the same as the day before except that the saliva was there from the start.

'Why can't you do it some more?' I asked as he was pulling up the undies he'd only dropped to his ankles.

'I'm not supposed to go out today. I gotta get back to the house or I'll be in big trouble.' Whoosh, he was gone. I wanted to scream.

He must have screwed me another dozen times before my father informed us that we were moving to a larger house in another part of the city. I finally did convince Carter to suck me a few times before I'd allow him in my rear end though never to fruition which I didn't yet know existed. The throbbing I felt when he climaxed didn't register as anything but Carter enjoying himself.

The family move was supposedly to be nearer a new school that I was, in two weeks, to enter for second grade. I was smart, you see, and even though I didn't turn six until November, they put me into grade school at five, right out of nursery school.

The more likely motivation for the home change was the great step up the social ladder our new house represented, and the improved lifestyle. It was made possible by my father's success as an engineering consultant.

He had been a top engineer with an airplane manufacturing company during the war and within months of VJ Day, had set up his own engineering consulting firm and was making a lot of money with military contracts much as his father had done since the thirties. Giving credit where it was due, my father's success was based more on his own hard work using business knowhow he picked up from his father. His father never provided any contacts, insisting his son develop his own. My father worked long hours, bringing a briefcase full of papers home each night and laboring over them on his desk in the second floor den sometimes until late at night.

My grandfather was a hard man, self made, the son of factory workers, not one to display emotion or affection, and a very strict Roman Catholic. My earliest memory was a beating he gave me at age three, and having no idea why I was being punished. I never liked him or his wife who, like her husband, was demanding and distant.

My father inherited his father's religion and inability to give affection. I have no recollection of him ever hugging me or saying anything that indicated he loved me. We never had a genuine father-son conversation. At mother's behest, he once, when I was five, played ball with me for a few moments but a phone call ended it.

For the most part, this empty relationship was no more than an inconvenience but, unfortunately, he had a nasty streak that surfaced every once in a while when he was irritated about something, often me. There'd be a swat on the back of my head or a curt order to go to my room or both. For a long time, I tried desperately to please him but gradually learned it was best to just stay clear.

My mother, like her mother, was pure housewife, keeping the house and me, their only child, clean and in good working order and hosting nearly daily bridge parties. She too was very much a Roman Catholic. Her parents attended Mass almost every day for as long as I knew them. Both my grandparents on mother's side were kind and affectionate. My grandfather was forever making me things, well, religious things like statues he painted, a wooden rosary and even a fancy wooden tabernacle with a gold painted wine glass for a chalice. And, he was generally good for a quarter, a lot for a little kid in those days.

Mother, alas, was not of the same fine stuff as her mom. She was shallow and unable to make me feel really sure of her love. I have no recollection of her picking me up or sitting me on her lap though she probably did when I was an infant. That's not to say she didn't care. I know she did but was never willing to make that extra effort to do special things for me. But you'll see what I mean as I go along.

The important thing you'll learn about my relationship with my parents was that there wasn't much of one. I could have been a pesky puppy and received as much attention, no, more. Money was spent on me but not time. Demands were made but compliance never appreciated.

Neither my father nor mother did much parenting but we did go to Mass together every Sunday.

I had attended Catholic parochial school for first grade but my father, his income rising like the aircraft he helped design, switched me to a private Catholic school with nuns and relatively small classes. It did have a gym but with no dressing or showering facilities. On gym day, we wore our gym shirt and shorts under our school uniforms. There also was a swimming pool with doored stalls for individuals to change in absolute privacy. The official swimming trunks were just that, baggy shorts that left everything to the imagination. Even the bathrooms had baffles between the urinals. Worse, the nuns were always talking about chastity, which they dwelled on more than any other of the so-called high virtues to which we should aspire. We were taught not to unzip our flies until we were in front of the urinal. I liked to drop my shorts to pee. That was specifically prohibited. The nuns in the early grades had no compunctions about entering the boys' room to observe our chastity in action. It was all very frustrating.

My new twenty room home was on two and a half acres of land spotted with great oak and other hardwood trees. It had seven fire places, front and back halls, front and back stairways, a basement and a large attic. We had an old barn halfway down the slope from the house to the back property line. It had been used to house carts and horses. My father kept it well locked up, claiming he didn't want vagrants sleeping there. Never having heard of them before, I imagined vagrants to be some kind of nasty animal like a really large squirrel. The rest of the houses in the area were similar in most ways. The back of our property was across the street from a field that bordered a mile and a half long tract of thick woods through which ran a wide, polluted stream. Half a mile up that stream was a hundred year old Negro settlement of dilapidated clapboard houses that all got their water from a well in the side of the hill behind them. They had electricity but no telephones. Entry was a dirt path. None of the residents owned a car or truck.

I went down to those woods every day to hide from the sterility of my new world and to play, setting up water diversions at the side of the stream and tiny twig huts, pretending I was living alone in the wild.

One afternoon, during the second week of school, as I was constructing a bridge over a small water diversion I'd made with rocks from the stream, a slim, smooth featured black boy about my size who later said he was either seven or eight - he wasn't sure which - wandered toward me. His thick, unbrushed black knappy hair made his head look slightly misshapen. His skin was as dark brown as it could have been without being coal black. He had an oval face and a smooth nose with wide nostrils. His large droopy eyes seemed to see right through me. I'd never been inculcated with a fear of dark or any particular kind of people so welcomed him without reservations.

For a while we just looked at each other. Then the boy wandered over slowly and squatted next to me. His knee poked out a tear in the denim of his overalls.

He asked, 'What you makin'?'

I went into a detailed description of my stick house with its kitchen, living room, bedroom and bathroom and the bridge leading up to it.

'Uh huh,' he said. While I worked on the roof, he watched then asked, 'You live 'roun' heah?'

'Back up there,' I answered pointing behind me over my shoulder.

He looked. 'Wheah?'

I stood and put my arm around his shoulder to turn his body in the right direction and pointed through the trees at the patch of green lawn visible a hundred fifty yards or so away. He bent over and tried to see.

'In one a them big houses up theah.'

'Uh huh. Where do you live?'

He put his arm on my shoulder - we were now draped over each others' shoulders -, turned me upstream and pointed toward where the black settlement was. Even though he was a year or two older, we were the same height. However, from the way he easily turned me, I sensed he was stronger than me.

'What's your name?' I asked. 'I'm Malcolm.'

'Maa, what?'

'Malcolm.'

'Hmmm. Mah name's Freddy.'

He took his arm off my shoulder to offer his hand. I'd never shaken another boy's hand. I did his. He could grip harder than me too. He smiled and I smiled back.

'You wanna play?' I asked him.

We did and had a good time. Although he deferred to me at first, after a while he insisted rather than suggested some things. But when I snatched away a toy truck he wanted to treat like a boat, he relented with a shoulder shrug. Being an only child and not accustomed to others making even the smallest play decisions for me, I was probably a bit overbearing after that. Freddy gave me puzzled stares at times but, in the end, let me guide most of what we did.

I found his speech strange and, occasionally, difficult to understand.

'How come you talk so funny?' I asked.

'You's the one talks funny. Ah talks like mah mama. You talks like white people,' he finished with a good natured grin.

I asked him about school. He told me he didn't go because his mother hadn't the money for the streetcar and bus required to get to the black school in another part of town. He might be going the next year if she could get a better job than what she had as a maid for a family a couple of miles away. It had never occurred to me that there were different schools for different color people. I didn't yet know that in the large Eastern U.S. city in which I lived, the schools, like movie theaters and restaurants were segregated. There wasn't really a law making it illegal for us to study, have fun or eat together like in some southern states but that's how it was.

'Why can't you go to the public school?' There was one roughly a block from where we stood.

'Negroes ain't allowed in that school. Gotta go to they own.'

'What's a negro?'

Freddy laughed. 'Me. I'm a negro.'

That didn't help. 'But, what, how?'

'Cause I look like this, see?' He stood and opened his arms, smiling broadly, his great eyelids almost closing.

I stood too and looked at him. 'Like what?'

'Shit, boy, you don' know nothin'.' He came close to me and took my arm and held it against his. 'You's white and I'm black. We's diffrent. See?'

I looked but only saw two boy arms, one more muscled and a lot darker than the other but an arm nonetheless.

Freddy leaned over sideways and looked into my eyes. 'Din't yo mama teach you 'bout us?'

This was a whole new kettle of fish for me. For whatever reason, my parents had never discussed the race topic with me. And there were only whites in my school. Of course, I could see the difference between us. I'd noticed Negroes years before but had never seen them as being any different from anyone else who didn't look like me. I had straight light brown hair, light skin that sunburned easily and blue eyes. There were other kids who had darker skin and tanned a deep brown, had dark or red curly hair, were fat or skinny. I'd always surmised that these were just normal differences, like big dogs and small dogs, lions and cats.

Freddy straightened up. 'You ain't never heard a no negro?'

I shrugged my shoulders. I had heard the word but never associated it with any particular type of person I might meet, just tribal people in Africa. Was Freddy from Africa?

'So why can't you go to the public school?'

'I don' know. Mama says that's jes' the way it is.'

I thought about that while we played but finally just accepted it as another of the mysteries of the world.

I asked about his father.

'He died in the war, in France, couple three yeahs ago.'

'What happened?'

'Some big bomb fell on him wheah he was workin'. Mama s'posed to git some money but she ain' got none yet.'

World War II was a mishmash of separate conceptions in my little brain. I remembered VJ Day because my parents had friends over to celebrate. My father hated the Japanese because they killed his brother. That victory party was the only time I ever saw him drunk.

One of the girls in my parochial school told us the Germans had killed her father but we Americans were getting back by killing a lot of the 'Krauts' as she called them. The nuns were forever collecting money for Chinese orphans who had lost their parents in the war.

I didn't know whether the Germans or the Japanese had killed Freddy's father in France, wherever that was, but I was sure they must have been terrible people to do something like that.

He had a terrible time pronouncing my name. 'Maacum,' he said.

'Mal-colm,' I corrected.

'Maa-cum,' he mispronounced.

We both repeated as before.

'Ain't nobody heah but us so's you knows who I'm talkin' to, Maacum,' he said finally with his hands on his hips.

I didn't want to lose a playmate so just grinned sheepishly.

At one point, I asked him why was wearing a torn shirt and one of his shoes was missing its lace.

''Cause we po'. I already tole you. It's how come I don' go to school, 'member?'

We played until I worried it was dinner time. We agreed to meet the following day after school.

The next day, I brought him a shoelace and a shirt I hoped my mother wouldn't miss.

'Yo mama gonna whup yo ass she finds out you done give this to me.'

I'd heard about ass beatings from other kids but had yet to receive one. 'My mother never beats me.'

'You one lucky chile, then. Mine done whupped me plenty, even fer nothin'.'

The following day, we decided to set up a rock passage across the stream. My new friend took off his old torn brown leather shoes rather than risk getting them wet. He had no socks to remove. I was daring, and got my shoes, socks and pants wet when I slipped on a slimy rock and fell butt first into the fetid, cool water. Freddy laughed so hard he had a difficult time pulling me out. I stood on the bank and looked myself over, now worried about my first beating.

'Well, dummy, take 'em off and we can wring 'em out. I got matches so we can make a fire and dry all yer stuff out but we best wash yer shoes first. They's all green!' He laughed some more.

Not being in the least shy about my puny body, I stripped down. We dunked my pants a couple of times in the water to get the mud and green slime off then wrung them between us, with me twisting the legs and Freddy the top. Freddy was twice as strong as me and twice turned the pants right out of my hands. He did my underpants and socks himself since there was no doubt he'd get out a lot more water than I.After tossing the clothes on some low branches, rinsing off my shoes and sticking them on stakes he stuck in the ground, Freddy went about gathering wood for the fire. I followed suit. He knew just how to do it, putting up a small teepee of skinny dead sticks then larger around. He explained that he learned all about this from helping his mother gather wood and getting the fire going in their wood stove. Only one match was needed to get it burning. Freddy piled on some larger pieces of wood as the fire grew. The heat felt good on my bare flesh. Then Freddy got some more dead branches and, stacking them one against the other, made stands around the now blazing fire for my clothes and shoes. I admired his knowledge of such things I'd never even considered. I'd have either gone home wet or stayed out until I was dry, either way getting in big trouble with my mother. It seemed he was an expert in avoiding parental problems.

He made me a comfortable seat on a rounded stone cushioned with thick moss he found in the side of the hill. Admiration turned to a very friendly esteem.

'Maacum, you got one tiny dick,' he commented from across the fire, pointing his chin at my groin.

I thought dick was a name so wasn't sure what he was talking about. I looked down at my middle. 'Dick? What?'

'You don' know what a dick is? Yo cock, that tiny thing between yo legs.'

Now informed, I studied it and thought about how it compared to the few others I'd seen. 'Well, it's gotta be or, or, well, that's how they are.'

'Whatta you talkin' 'bout. Mines is twice as big as yo's.'

'No, it's not, you're just bigger is all. Lemme see.'

Freddy stood right up, flipped open the suspenders on his overalls and let them drop. Without underwear to hide it, his penis was immediately there to see, easily twice as thick as mine and longer. You can imagine my first thought on seeing that monster: how to get it up my butt.

After a year and a week of nuns teaching the evils of sex, I wasn't quite as forward as I'd been with my neighbor. For a moment, I just stared and sought words that wouldn't cause me trouble. He stood in front of the fire and allowed me to admire it.

'You, uh, how big does it get in the bathtub?' That's where I played most actively with mine and assumed everyone else did the same.

'We don't got no bathtub but it do get a lot bigger. Wanna see?'

Excitement robbed me of words so I just nodded my interest.

Without moving his feet, he sucked in his lips and massaged his penis between the fingers and thumb of his right hand. It was up in seconds. Mine came up just as fast with no manual aid. I couldn't take my eyes off it. I forgot the nuns.

'Wanna stick it in my rear?' I asked with baited breath while pointing as my butt.

Freddy grimaced and stared. I held my breath waiting for a nasty negative reply.

'You wants me to fuck you in the ass?' he asked his head cocked to one side.

Once again, I had no words so nodded.

'Shit, you a crazy white boy. Lemme fix you a place ta lie down.'

I could hardly breathe. If butts were able to wet themselves, there'd have been a stream running down the inside of my leg. Freddy gathered moss, bunches of it.

'C'mon, Maacum, you gotta hep too.'

I jumped up and took the patches of moss he gathered to a flat place beside the fire. He made a bed long and wide enough for my knees to my head. Then he pushed off his shoes and stripped. He hadn't an ounce of fat on his slim muscular body. His skin was the color of burnt toast. I particularly noticed how his stomach muscles formed a V that led right to his huge cock that stuck out like one of the wooden dowel towel hangers in my bathroom.

My body, on the other hand, was soft, unmuscled. My only bodily asset was my fat rear end. At the tender age of six, I appreciated my own ass.

'Put spit on your penis so it's all wet,' I suggested as I lay where he pointed.

'Mah what?'

'Your penis, silly.'

'You mean mah dick?' He smiled. I nodded. 'You the one talks funny, Maacum. What you call this?' he asked pointing as his dick.

'It's a penis. Hurry up.' Semantics weren't on my mind at the time.

He got on his knees and pushed in between my thighs. 'You ain't gonna say nothin 'bout this to nobody?'

'Unh uh,' I answered and shook my head. I'd have crossed my heart and hoped to die but couldn't with my chest flat on the moss.

'Stick yo ass up here an' lemme see yo ho',' he said as he pulled on my hips. 'I hope it's big enough.'

I knew it would be and reached back with my hands to open up my portal. He pushed in closer.

'Don't forget the spit,' I reminded him.

'I ain't gonna fo'git nothin'.'

I felt the tip of his cock at my hole. It was slippery and gained a quick entry. I pushed my ass up higher. He slid right in, setting off sparks that my former neighbor, Carter, had never ignited. I held my breath.

Freddy pushed in even tighter and leaned into me, the warmth of his body against mine exciting me even more. I reached back for his hips to pull him tighter still. He began fucking. I breathed out sharply.

'Man, Maacum, you got one great assho'.' He rammed in, sending a stream of those sparks up into my gut. He pulled nearly all the way out then pushed hard back in, each time making me worry he was going to take it all the way out. I wanted this to go on forever. I forgot where I was, about my wet clothes, the fire, except, of course, the wonderful fire raging in my rectum.

Freddy pushed full into me and said, 'lay down flat.'

I did. He lay on top of me, wobbled his ass side to side a few times then began fucking again. I wanted to tell him to go in further and not to stop. He slipped his hands up under my shoulders and went into me harder still. With each thrust, he groaned a little, 'umph, umph'. I reached back again to his hips and wonderfully round buns, riding them up and down. This went on for several minutes until he was jamming harder then, 'oooooo!' He pushed in me as far as he could. I felt the throbbing of his cock deep inside me. 'Oooooo!' he repeated.

Gradually, I felt the tension go out of him and his body settle on top of mine.

'Don't take it out,' I said a bit worried he was about to do as my former neighbor always had after his much less pronounced throbbing.

'No, I ain't. I could go ta sleep like this. I ain't too heavy on you?'

'No. You can stay like that. Just go in and out some more.'

'Don't worry, I jus' gotta rest it some.'

He lay still on top of me. I moved my rear side to side much as I could to enhance the feel of his big cock's presence in my bowels.

'Lemme put some mo' wood on the fire an' we can do it some mo'.'

He lifted up, leaving me empty and anxious. After dropping a few thick pieces of wood he found quickly, he kneed his way back between my legs, found my hole and pushed easily inside. The sparks surged back.

Freddy fucked me again, taking twice as long as the first time, ramming harder and faster. Near the end, with Freddy sweating all over me and making smacking sounds as our bodies met, I felt like I was gonna pee. I felt better than I'd ever felt in my short life. This was way better than Carter's summer fucks. My head was swimming. My body felt light as a feather. My peter throbbed like crazy. I though I was peeing into the moss. It was my first orgasm. The tightening of my ass muscle was probably what set off Freddy seconds later. I lay there, breathing hard and fast through my mouth. Freddy settled again on me, dripping sweat over my ribs, breathing hard as I.

'Shit! I wanna do this e'ryday.'

I knew I did too. I felt strangely satisfied, no longer in need of him continuing though it still did feel comfortable having his cock inside me.

After a while, Freddy asked, 'I wonder what time it's getting' ta be?'

It was then I noticed the fire was providing as much light as the sky. He pulled loose and looked at his still rigid long cock. 'Tole you mines was bigga.'

He checked my pants. They weren't a lot dryer but I had to get moving. My underwear was dry, my socks almost but my shoes were still soaked.

With the next day being Saturday, we agreed to meet early there at the stream. I worried a little I'd be punished for getting home late and being all wet but mostly I thought about the wonderful feelings I'd experienced and looked forward to more of the same the next day.

Back at the house, still feeling warm all over, I noticed that mother was setting the dining room table. That enabled me to walk up the rear stairs without her seeing me. I quickly changed in my room, hung my wet pants and shoes in the closet and fingered my hole to remind myself of what had so recently gone on back there. Then, I set out a few of my toy army trucks and soldiers like I'd been in my room all afternoon. My mind, however, was on the feelings I'd experienced, especially the incredible new sensation in my penis. Minutes later, I heard her on the back porch calling me. I shouted out the window. 'I'm up here.'

At first, she doubted I'd been there for long but my protestations finally forced her to accept if not believe. I told her that earlier in the afternoon, I'd met a boy down at the stream and that we were now friends. She seemed happy about it so I went a step further.

'Can he come here for lunch tomorrow?'

'Certainly, dear.'

Saturday morning, I headed for the stream right after breakfast. Freddy didn't show until nearly lunchtime. He'd had chores to do.

'Wanna do it again?' I asked anxiously, my dick already pushing out my shorts.

'If you wanna,' he replied.

We used the same moss bed from the previous afternoon. It had cooled overnight. I felt the warmth of his body more intensely. It was comforting to feel him against me, inside me. He fucked a bit slower, punching deeper, making me squirm with delight. With each of Freddie's thrusts, my little dick slid back and forth inside a comfortable groove it had carved into the moss. Once again, my head swam as I rose into orgiastic heaven just seconds before Freddy joined me.

'How come you like this so much, Maacum?' he inquired from on top of me after his pulsing stopped.

'I dunno. It just feels good.'

Freddy lay his head over my shoulder and said 'hmmm'. After a few moments of silence, he started in again even slower, then stopped. 'Yo dick hard? He asked.

'Mmmm hmmm,' I replied.

He continued his slow dance into my rectum.

After a few strokes, he mumbled into my ear, 'If you was bigger, I'd let you do it to me too but you too tiny.'

I was small, only an inch and a half or so hard. He was probably right. Anyhow, the last thing I wanted was for him to take his long rod out of my hole. So I just said, 'Mmm hmm' again and let it go at that.

It was great. He lay snugly on top of me, slow fucking for the longest time. I held onto his gently bobbing buns with both hands, wishing I could watch them. His hands were under and around my shoulders again. They began to tug and squeeze. My weenie hardened. Freddy pushed in hard as deep as he could. Then came the pulsing inside my ass. I pumped into the moss, going for my own climax.

'Don't stop, don't stop,' I pleaded.

He made a series of shallow pumps, only pulling about halfway out each time. It worked. The sparks came roaring up through my rectum, into my groin right to the tip of my very happy penis.

Freddy must have felt my pulsing. 'You getting' it, ain't ya?'

'Mmm hmm.'

'Good, ain't it?'

'Mmm hmm.'

Once again, we lay there with him draped over me, his slowly softening cock staying up inside me. I'd reached climax two times, just like him. Life was good.

When we finally pulled apart, I felt my stomach asserting itself after all that attention to lower organs.

'I'm hungry,' I said, 'wanna come to my house for lunch? My mother says you can.'

'Unh uh, I cain't do that, Maacum, but you can come to mines. Mama left plenty to eat.'

'But if I don't go home for lunch, my mother will get mad and I'll get punished. I asked last night and she said you can come. Why can't you come to my house?'

''Cause negroes ain't s'posed to go to white folks' houses 'les'n they works theah.'

'Why?'

'Shit, Maacum. Because I cain't, that's why. My mama would whoop me fo' a hour if'n I went to yo' house.'

I really didn't understand but tried a different tack. 'If I go get the lunch, we can eat out back.' I grabbed his arm. 'C'mon, Freddy. It's gonna be peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and probly chocolate milk.'

Freddy laughed. 'An' you gonna go naked?'

I really had forgotten. 'But you're gonna come?'

'Jus' ta the back. I ain't goin' neah to the house.'

We dressed. I watched his snakelike cock disappear behind his overalls.

We climbed out of the woods and crossed the field between them and the street that bordered my family's property. The house was still nearly as far off as we'd already come.

'Woowee, Maacum, tha's a big house. Who else live in theah wi' ya'll?

'Jus my mother and father and me. We're gonna get a dog one day.'

Halfway up the rear lawn, Freddy stopped by a large oak. 'I'll wait heah.'

I sighed, went up to the back porch and inside. Mother was reading a magazine in the breakfast nook.

'Hungry, dear? Where's your friend?'

'He's outside and won't come in. He says Negroes can't come into the house.'

Mother took a moment to absorb my news. 'Your friend is a Negro?'

'That's what he says. Why can't he come in?'

Mother tried to cover it but I could sense her discomfort and didn't understand why she should feel that way. Mother tried to look past me into the back yard.

'How, old is he?'

'He says he might be eight, or seven. So why can't he come in?' I was becomming angry.

Mother grasped her one hand with the other, still staring into the back yard. I think she saw him. She bit her lower lip and said, 'Does your friend want to come in?'

I looked back in his direction. 'He just said he can't. I want him to come in. He's my friend, my only friend, the only boy I know around here.'

Mother walked to the back door and looked the fifty or so yards to where Freddy was squatting beside the big old oak. Seeing him like that made me want to run out and sit with him. He wasn't just my only friend, he was the first real friend I'd had in my life. Carter and the others in the old neighborhood were sometime playmates. None of them had ever spent the kind of time with me that Freddy did. None of them talked to me and did things with me like Freddy. School was even worse. I wanted him with me inside the house.

'Tell Freddy to come into the house,' I told my mother, 'right now!' Ordering adults around wasn't my custom. It surprised the both of us. But it worked.

'Freddy,' mother called out softly, too softly for Freddy to hear.

I pushed out the door to the small rear porch rail. 'Freddy,' I shouted, 'my mother says to come in here so we can eat lunch.'

Freddy stirred but didn't stand. Mother waved him to come to us. He stood and looked around.

'Come on, Freddy, I'm hungry,' I yelled.

He stuffed his hands in behind the bib of his overalls and began walking hesitantly toward us. I ran out to him.

'Mother says it's okay. Now come on.'

'My momma finds out an' I'm gonna get whupped. Who else in theah?'

I took his arm. 'Just my mother. Now, c'mon.'

He allowed me to drag him up and onto the porch. As we went past mother, he glanced at her like he was expecting a smack on the back of the head.

Mother asked us what we wanted to eat and prepared the requested peanut butter and jelly sandwiches along with Bosco flavored milk. We went into the bathroom between the kitchen and the dining room to wash our hands. Freddy washed his face too. I noticed how his wet face shone.

'What you looking at, Maacum.'

'You look different when you're wet.'

'You crazy, Maacum,' he laughed.

I made a mental note to be more observant the next time he got wet while we were naked.

While we ate, mother alternated between the sink and the table asking Freddy about his father - 'He was killed by a bomb in the war, ma'am.' - and his mother - 'She a maid, ma'am.'

'Oh?' Mother went back to the sink then returned. 'Then she has a job right now.'

'Yes, ma'am, but she lookin' fo' one fo' mo' money.'

'Oh, a, do you know your telephone number?'

'We ain't got no telephone, ma'am.'

'Yes, of course. I'm looking for a maid. You think your mother knows someone who's looking for a job?'

'I don' know, ma'am. I'll tell 'er you's askin'.

'Mother, why don't you tell Freddy's mother she can come and work here.' My mind was spinning with the thought that Freddy could come to the house every day with his mother and we could play inside when it got cold. I was quite aware that sex outdoors was shortly going to be far less pleasant as the temperatures fell.

I convinced Freddy to come play in my room after we ate. He was enthralled with all my toys and clothes. 'You got mo' clothes than my whole fam'ly, Maacum, includin' my cousins.'________________________________

Sunday, when my parents and I got back from church, a short black woman and Freddy were waiting in front on the sidewalk at the driveway entry. Freddy's mother, looked to be an adult, female version of her son. She too was slim, dark and had the same large sleepy eyes. My father had seemed unenthused about my Negro friend and wondered aloud why I couldn't find other boys my age in the area.

'They're all little or real big.'

He'd asked about kids from my school but I told him none lived anywhere near us so how was I going to play with them.

Freddy's mother was very gracious, charming my mother and gradually my father, too. She offered to make us lunch to show what a good cook she was. Using leftovers and macaroni, she came up with a casserole that convinced my mother. Freddy and I were scooted out of the kitchen when they discussed money. We went up to my room and played with my checkers game that neither of us much understood. We were far too interested in hearing any sounds from the kitchen window below mine to do more than move the pieces around each other. The negotiations took nearly half an hour but Freddy's mother agreed to start a week from Monday.

I hugged Freddy from behind, almost lifting him off the floor. His mother gave him a stern look so he let me do all the celebrating though not resisting my elation.

To my chagrin, Freddy's mother took him home with her.

Monday, after school, I rushed down to the stream but Freddy didn't show up. Tuesday when he again didn't appear, I walked up the path along side the stream hoping to find his house. I found him sitting against a tree not far from a huddle of small, dark, unpainted wooden homes. He jumped up when he saw me and pushed me back up the path.

'Shit, Maacum. You gon' get me in big trouble if somebody sees you heah.'

His mother had told him she could see clear as day that 'that white man din't want his son playin' 'roun' with no Negro boy' and she could lose this good paying job if Freddy was to get anywhere near me.

I was crushed.

'Please, Maacum. Go away befo' somebody sees you o' sees I ain't up neah to the house. Please!'

I walked slowly down the path, very angry, eventually crying, plotting how to make my father go tell Freddy's mother he could play with me.

'Did you ever think maybe he just wants to play with his own kind?' my father asked me when I confronted him that evening.

His own kind meant nothing to me. 'He always came and played with me at the stream.'

'What about Saturday when you forced him to come inside for lunch. He didn't want to come in here and you know it. And he didn't look so excited Sunday when we took on his mother. He's already got friends down where he lives.'

'No he doesn't. I saw him and he was sitting alone.' There I was again challenging adults. This time, though, I felt I had right on my side and should be making the challenge.

Mother intervened. 'They do seem to get along very well, dear.'

'Sandra, that's not helping.' He walked out of the dining room.

I dared to follow. 'Freddy likes me and wants to play with me too. He doesn't do anything wrong. So why can't he play with me?' My little speech started as a tirade but, as I realized how close I was to making him angry and being punished, quickly cooled to an entreaty.

He sat in his big stuffed chair and grabbed the newspaper. 'Malcolm, there are just some things you don't understand yet. This matter is closed. Go do your homework.'

Tears made doing homework impossible.

I didn't speak to my father the rest of the week. He acted like he was ignoring my anger but I caught the glances.

Each afternoon and Saturday, I went to the stream and played wistfully with the hope Freddy might appear. He didn't.

Sunday, feeling very angry and unhappy, I refused to go to church. Mother cajoled but I sat cross legged in my room, clothed only in pajamas and refused to dress. I was left to stew. When they got back, I was refused breakfast.

Stomach aching, I put on play clothes and headed on down to the stream, on the way deciding I had to speak with Freddy's mother. It had rained the night before and the leaves of the bushes and small trees bordering the path were still covered with raindrops. By the time I arrived at the small settlement, my shirt sleeves, shorts and legs were thoroughly wet. There didn't seem to be anyone around. I had no idea which of the dozen or so houses was Freddy's. There were plenty of dogs and they all barked. Most were tied up, some on very short pieces of rope. A couple of younger animals were loose and ran at me, teeth bared. Terrified, I started to back off.

An old woman came walking awkwardly around the corner of a house waving a cane in the air and shouting best as she could with her weak airy voice. The pups tucked their tails between their legs and retreated though darting an occasional nasty looks at me.

'Who you lookin' fo', boy?' she asked suspiciously.

'Uh, Freddy's mother.'

'They's all at church, sugah. What you want her fo'?'

'Uh, she's gonna be our maid and, uh, I just wanted to talk to her.'

The woman stared at me for a few seconds, then said, 'You be that little white boy Freddy's been botherin', ain't cha?'

'No, no. Freddy's my friend. He doesn't bother me.'

A few more seconds of staring and, 'Well, they's at church. Best come back later. Now you go on back home, boy. I cain't watch them dogs all day.'

'Thank you,' I said backing out. The two loose pups were together to one side watching my every move. I stopped. 'What time are they gonna be here?'

'That's right, boy, you go on home now.'

I walked dejectedly back up the path and sat on a rock above the stream, feeling very sorry for myself, and very hungry. I went home and stood in the dining room entryway where my parents could see me.

Mother finally fed me.

One thirty found me back at Freddy's settlement. There were plenty of people about this time, most still dressed up for church. Freddy was with two older boys playing marbles. The dogs alerted him a stranger was about. He turned away for a moment then got up and walked over to me. The two other boys stood and watched.

'Maacum, you getting' me in all kinds a trouble. My granma hit me with her cane when I come home an' mama's already put a belt ta me. They ain't gonna let us be togetha so go on home befo' I get another whuppin'.'

The pain in his eyes made me want to cry. But I had to try. 'Please let me talk to your mother. She thinks you've been bothering me. You're my friend and I'm gonna tell her.'

'Maacum, she's gonna lose her job at yo' house if'n I'm around. Yo daddy said so.'

I felt like I was going to explode. My father had lied to me and worse. Had I known a few cuss words, I'd have used them all. I still wanted to hug Freddy before I left but noticing all the eyes looking my way, I just said, 'You're my friend and I'm gonna make my father let you come.'

With that, I turned and headed resolutely back up the path angrier than I think I'd ever been.

By the time I reached the house, some caution blunted my planned speech. My mother was with a pair of friends in the living room. I wanted her as an ally.

I walked up to her easy chair and whispered in her ear. 'I gotta talk to you now.' Mothers are almost always easier to boss around than fathers, at least in 1947.

Mother excused herself. I told her what I'd found out. I got the immediate impression she already knew.

'Listen, dear, I'm going to find a way for you to play with some of your classmates. They can come here and you can go to their house.'

That was not what I wanted to hear. 'I don't wanna do that. Anyhow, I don't like most of them. Freddy's my friend. I want to play with him!'

Mother sighed and led me to the kitchen and sat us at the breakfast table.

'Dear, it's just not that simple. You see, white people and colored people don't really want to be friends like that. Freddy's mother doesn't want her boy playing with you either.' She paused and sighed. 'This is ridiculous. Dear, you may not play with Freddy. I'm sorry. Now I'm being rude to my friends so I have to go back.'

I stood on the bench as she walked out and screamed. 'I hate you both! I hate you!'

My father stormed in through the back door. 'You just go to your room, boy, now! And don't come out until it's time to go to school tomorrow.'

My mind raced over alternatives from sitting down where I was to obeying. I was furious but also afraid I was crossing a line not to be crossed. Fear won out. I did slam the door to my room.

When I came down for breakfast in the morning, Freddy's mother was in the kitchen alone. I glared at her but said nothing. She started fixing scrambled eggs. I got up, dragged a chair to the kitchen cabinet, climbed on it and pulled down a box of Wheaties. Freddy's mother watched as I got a bowl and spoon from the dish rack and milk from the refrigerator. All the while I was trying to think of something nasty I could say but nothing that made sense came into my mind.

I was testy all day in school, almost hitting a boy who annoyed me. At home, I dumped my book bag in the kitchen and went straight out and down to the stream. There, I cried. Then, I heard footsteps crunching leaves. I looked up and saw Freddy. I rushed to him and gave him a long, powerful embrace.

'Maacum,' he whispered, 'they's a other boy heah wi' me'.

I wiped the tears on my sleeve. An older boy, nearly a head taller and several shades lighter stood behind Freddy looking apprehensive. Freddy gently pulled loose.

'Maacum, this heah is Douglas. He's ma cousin.' He leaned close and said in a lower voice, 'He's s'posed to be watchin' me that I don' go away from the house but I told him he could do, you know, do what we do, an' he said okay.'

That was completely unexpected but not worrisome. I leaned to my right and looked past Freddy at his cousin who smiled sheepishly at me. Even his hair was lighter than Freddy's. I straightened back up and asked, 'back here?' pointing surreptitiously with my thumb.

Freddy nodded in the affirmative. I was game, and it wasn't just to have Freddy back. Another penis was always of interest. I hugged him again.

The moss bed we'd made before was mostly dead and rough so Freddy, Douglas and I went about making up a new one. Douglas didn't say a word, just followed Freddy's instructions and occasionally glanced nervously, or possibly in anticipation, at me. I was increasingly curious about what his penis looked like, how big it was. He was a lot bigger than Freddy but wore the same baggy overalls which effectively covered all.

Freddy told Douglas he could go first but Douglas nudged him in my direction, still not saying a word. I was already stepping out of my shorts and was completely naked before Freddy dropped his overalls. Douglas looked me over thoroughly.

I lay on the fresh moss and raised my rear. Freddy dribbled saliva on his cock and slipped in close. I closed my eyes in anticipation. His entry was smooth, filling me with tiny butterflies. Douglas squatted at our side and watched intently. Freddy settled on top of me, instantly warming my body with his. He began pumping into me, pushing my little wiener into the moss, making it grow.

Douglas reached inside his overalls to his crotch. Freddy pushed deep inside me, causing me to forget our observer. I came first, at least a couple minutes before Freddy. I expected him to keep on as usual but he whispered in my ear, 'It's Douglas' turn then we can do it again.'

Slowly, he lifted off, his hard cock snapping out. Douglas looked very nervous. He said something in Freddy's ear. Freddy looked irritated. 'Take off yo' pants, Douglas. Ain't gone be no problem long's you don't say nothin'.'

Douglas took a breath and unsnapped the flap on his overalls. They fell revealing clean underpants with something pointing out in front, way out. He sat on a rock and took off his shoes then the overalls, one leg at a slow time. Then came his T shirt, arm by arm by head. He had a smooth body as opposed to Freddy's tight muscles and skin the color of mud. His tummy was perfectly smooth and flat. Finally, he hooked his thumbs in his underwear and, looking at Freddy like he really didn't want to do it, pushed them down. A penis, bigger than anything I'd ever seen, bounced out. It was half again as long as Freddy's and thicker, its head stretching his foreskin tight. A pair of balls the size of plump cherries hung below in a soft, brown sack. Not that I'd have expected any nor knew it existed, there wasn't a pubic hair in sight.

Freddy said, 'He's a high yaller.'

I had no idea what that was but nodded anyhow. My thoughts were on the likelihood that Douglas' penis might be too big for my hole.

Douglas spit into his hand three times and rubbed the saliva on his dong. 'He's too big,' I told Freddy. I'd unsuccessfully tried a broom handle during the summer. It had been about the thickness of Douglas' cock.

'Jes try it Maacum. You say stop if'n it hurts.'

Douglas knelt down between my legs and leaned forward, his hands on either side of me, and tried to aim his tip at my hole. Freddy knelt beside us and guided him to his target with one hand and pushed his rear forward with the other. It hurt immediately. I pulled away.

'I tole you I was too big,' said Douglas.

There was frustration all over Freddy's face. He leaned over to my ear. 'Why don't you put it in yo mouth so's he won't say nothin' that I come heah. Don' worry, we washed both a ours real good befo' we come heah.'

The idea was repugnant. But it allowed Freddy to be with me. I looked back at Douglas four hard inches now sticking out over my buns. 'You put yours in when I do it?' I entreated Freddy.

'Sho.'

Freddy stood up then leaned over to Douglas' ear. The bigger boy massaged his penis as Freddy spoke. Finally, he frowned and stood. Freddy pushed him forward. Douglas sat in front of me, legs out to either side under my shoulders, his cock level with my nose. I looked at it for pee or any sign of dirtiness. It did look clean.

Freddy climbed in behind me and slid his cock up inside. It felt great as usual.

'Go 'head, Maacum. Put yo mouf on it and go up and down.'

I lifted myself up on my elbows. Douglas pushed his cock downward until the head was in front of my lips. I sniffed but didn't smell anything but skin. I opened my mouth. Douglas pushed forward. His cock entered and rested on my tongue. I closed my lips around the shaft and sucked gently. It was incredibly smooth, not as bad as I'd expected, actually, kind of nice. Freddy pushed my head from behind. Douglas cock went to the back of my mouth almost making me gag. I pulled my head back. Freddy shifted his hand to the top of my head and pushed and pulled, running my mouth up and back Douglas's slick shaft. Freddy was hardly moving inside me. I wiggled my ass to alert him to his inaction. He got to it, pumping away in time with his hand on my head. I tightened my lips about Douglas and ran my tongue up and down the soft bottom of his cock. Douglas began pumping in an out. His abdominal muscles flexed. I ran one hand over his middle, enjoying the feel of the smooth flesh and the movement of his muscles underneath each time he pushed into my mouth. I found I enjoyed having two cocks in me. I was even beginning to like sucking on Douglas' growing penis.

Freddy gradually let go of my head, slipping his hands between me and Douglas onto their familiar place around my shoulders as he fucked harder and deeper into me. My head, no longer in need of a guide, was going up and down on its own. My peter was well on its way toward an explosion down in its moss cavern. Douglas' cock bloated. He stiffened and pushed into my mouth. I was totally unprepared for the strange bittersweet taste that filled the back of my mouth as he shot his young sperm across the back of my tongue. I swallowed involuntarily. Freddy sped up, banging me forward with each thrust. I climaxed, clamping down on the still pulsing cock in my mouth and the other sliding in and out of my rear. It set off Freddy who kept pumping as he throbbed.

When I looked up, Douglas was smiling. 'You right, Freddy, Maacum is real good at doing sex. We can come here e'ry day if you wants.'

Freddy relaxed on top of me as usual, his peter still inside me. Douglas cock began to soften allowing me to slip down the shaft and rest my face on his smooth groin, my shoulders on his thighs. I put my arms around his waist. Douglas cuddled my head. Freddy started in fucking again, his head between my shoulder and cheek. It was his third time and would take a while. That was great by me.

With sex finally over, we played in the stream making a walkway to the far side. Freddy and I were still naked. Douglas had put on his underwear, covering an attractive well rounded backside and his pretty peter.

'You're going to get your underpants dirty, Douglas. You better take them off,' I remarked.

Freddy knew what I wanted and told his cousin to strip. Douglas laughed and hopped out of his briefs. Where Freddy's buns were tight, Douglas moved around like a pair of balloons pressed against one another. I spent more time watching Douglas' body parts than playing, eventually slipping on a rock and falling into the cold, polluted water. I grabbed Freddy's arm as I fell and pulled him in too.

Freddy was upset but only because I'd also knocked over the rock structure he had been building. He quickly built a fire to warm and dry us. My eyes were on the sheen his wet body had taken on. He gave me a strange look when I ran my fingers across his back. A silly grin was the only reaction I could supply to his question, 'What you doin', Maacum'.

As we huddled around the fire, I learned that Douglas, twelve years old, had never gone to school and worked occasionally with his window washing uncle. His father had died of a heart attack a couple of years before. Both boys were sure it was due to his heavy drinking. Douglas' mother was a dish washer in a bar and restaurant in the small shopping and business area a couple hundred yards down the stream where the woods ended. His grandmother, the old lady who had chased away the dogs then me, was really his great grandmother. His real grandmother had died the previous winter. His grandfather was a shoe shiner at a hotel in the city. All were church goers except the great grandmother. They didn't take her because she was always farting and making noises, embarrassing everybody.

I got home as the sun was going down, later than I should have but no one said a word. I tried to look a bit sullen so they wouldn't guess that Freddy and I were back together. Freddy's mother left after washing the dinner dishes, shortly before eight.

Freddy, Douglas and I got together every afternoon that week and Saturday morning. We completed our rock bridge, built a hut of sorts against the far hill, climbed a large vine covered tree and set up a lookout tower in it, and fucked and sucked. Douglas could never get off more than once though he tried very hard on Thursday leaving me with sore jaw muscles. Saturday, we walked down the stream to where the woods ended at the shopping area. We climbed a large tree and watched white people drive their cars, get on and off the streetcar line that ended there and white kids go in and out of the soda fountain on the far corner. We spotted a couple of teens making out just below the bridge over the stream. Later, back in our watch tower, we talked about what we wanted to be when we grew up. Douglas' chosen career at the time was chef in a hotel. Freddy was torn between carpenter and shoeshine boy. I wanted any job that would allow me to live in a forest.

Sunday afternoon, with a fire to keep the cool at bay, we kept our shirts on while we had two hours of sex. Freddy got off four times. Douglas finally made it to two, the second time fucking me between my well lubricated thighs. By the time we gave in to the dropping temperature, the fire was bigger than it had ever been and we were as close as we could be to it without burning flesh off our bare asses.

Monday, it was downright cold. October had arrived. I wore a jacket to school. Monday afternoon, it was too cold to strip down so I sucked both my friends cocks sticking out of the fly of their overalls. We needed to find a warm place where we could be alone. The only place I could think of was my bedroom.

'Mommy, I still don't have anyone to play with. I want Freddy to be able to come here again,' I told my mother that night.

'Dear, we're not going over that again. Now do your homework.'

My parents' racism complicated my life. I examined my relationship with them as I knew it and found it wanting. In school, I heard a lot about parent-child activities. There'd been similar stories by children in my old neighborhood but they hadn't registered as clearly. Parents, I found, took their children to places other than church. They helped their kids with their homework. They even discussed things with them. Mine gave me all the toys and clothes I wanted and a considerable degree of freedom but that was it. My father certainly never played, much less conversed with me. One boy talked about his parents both coming to his bed every night to tuck him in, talk a bit and say good night. That never happened in my house. Mother had promised to take me to other kids' homes to play with them and arrange for some to come to our house. Granted, I hadn't been much help but she hadn't mentioned it after making the promise when she refused to allow me to play with Freddy.

I wondered if my parents loved me.

I told Freddy about my thoughts when we met the next afternoon. He didn't have a father, he said, so he couldn't comment. His mother was always working so they didn't do a lot together. But she did talk to him and his two younger sisters, talked about everything under the sun. And, every once in a while, a bunch of the families went somewhere together. The past summer, they'd gone to an all black beach twice. He had no doubt that his mother loved him, very much.

'But don' e'rybody got good folks. Bobby Quarles' father when he's drunk beats the shit outta him even if he ain't done nothin' an' he don' let him do nothin'.'

We talked about parental problems and relations most of the afternoon. Both of my friends felt their mothers were too strict but not so much to be a problem, except, of course, for not allowing Freddy and me to play together.

'If'n yo daddy said so, she'd let us be togetha all the time but yo' daddy says no.'

My father's position infuriated me but I had no way to counter his orders. The concept of racism was seeping into my brain through my father's attitude and remarks I was hearing in school. For instance, I had learned the meaning of the word nigger and the scorn which it carried. It bothered me that my classmates, who didn't know any Negroes other than the occasional maid, should have such a low opinion of them. It just didn't make sense that one person would think another sufficiently different not to want to associate with them.

Douglas began playing more and more with his crotch. Freddy said I better do him before he had an 'attack'. I sucked both boys but really wanted more. My dick got hard but went completely unattended to.

Wednesday, it rained but Thursday warmed up enough for campfire warmed, half naked all out sex. Friday was cooler so pants were just dropped enough for penetration. Douglas poked his out of his overalls again. That night, I went looking for old blankets and found two that I took along Saturday morning. It worked just fine. We hid them up in our tree lookout post but worried what would happen to them when it rained.

Sunday, after successfully refusing to go to church again, I found a waterproof Air Force duffle bag my father had in the attic. The blankets fit inside with room to spare. The olive drab coloring made it more difficult to see from the ground.

A few weeks later, I saw an ad in the newspaper for Army surplus sleeping bags complete with waterproof covers. I really wanted one but had no money nor any idea how to get to the store where they sold them. I tore out the page and showed it to Freddy and Douglas. They showed it to a man who could read. He offered to buy it for them if they gave him the money. Seven dollars was required including bus fare.

None of the three of us ever had more than a few small coins. I was given five cents a day to spend at school. Asking for such a large amount would raise a lot of suspicion and probably no for an answer. The negative thoughts building in me about my parents made the decision to steal the money much easier.

I was smart enough not to take it all at one time so watched for opportunities to take a dollar or two in coins as much as possible. Seven dollars was a lot of money in 1947.

My father left his wallet on his dresser when he showered, slept or was outside working on the lawn. Mother's was always in one of her purses. Over two weeks, I stole nine dollars and twenty-five cents from both of them and never heard a word.

Freddy gave seven dollars to the man the following Saturday morning. He promised to bring us the sleeping bag in the afternoon. He didn't come back until late that night, so drunk he could hardly stand. Freddy and Douglas searched his pockets but found only a quarter.

We'd lost the stolen money and our means of buying the sleeping bag. Douglas felt he could do it himself by asking directions. He could read numbers so bus lines were not a problem. It was the first week of November, just days before my birthday, before I'd again accumulated the seven dollars. Freddy went with Douglas. It took them most of the day but they found the surplus store, bought the bag and got it back. We had just enough time to try it out. It was warm and cozy though a bit prickly against our naked flesh. Freddy fucked me while Douglas waited outside wrapped in his coat and the blankets. Out of sight of Douglas, I kissed Freddy on his cheek, very close to his mouth as he was pulling his overalls back up. He made no comment. Douglas clambered in. I had to get on my hands and knees and back down to the end of the sleeping bag for Douglas to lie flat. We'd never done it quite that way. Douglas found he could pump up into my mouth and did so with a fury. Afterward, Freddy said from where he was it looked like they were two dogs fighting inside.

Mother apparently remembered my birthday that Sunday at the last moment. She promised a little party at dinner on Monday. We had a cake for desert at dinner. My gift was a new coat, my fourth. My father gave me a dollar.

I hadn't forgotten. I was finally going to be seven like the rest of my classmates. I told Freddy Saturday and requested a gift.

'But I ain' got no money, Maacum.'

'Then make me something.'

That seemed to enthuse him but didn't distract him from sex.

Sunday afternoon, the two of them brought a plate with cold chicken, cold cooked vegetable greens and a piece of cornbread with honey.

'Ma mama cooked it,' said Freddy proudly.________________________

My birthday wasn't mentioned at school either but neither was anyone else's.

I began developing shallow relationships with some of my less popular classmates. Being unathletic and uninterested in much of what most considered of interest, I ended up with that select group found in every school that is chosen last for sports activities and not included in active games in the schoolyard. The only boy who interested me at all was a tall, skinny seven-year-old boy with a huge nose who seemed to have the same feelings as I regarding Negroes. He never used the word nigger and even called Tommy Atkins, the most popular kid in class, stupid for saying that the reason there are separate schools for niggers, his father had assured him, was because they had to be taught slower than whites and were terrible at sports. Tommy called him a 'nigger lover'. I took Glen by the arm and walked him to another part of the playground so he wouldn't get hurt.

Sadly, our lack of antagonism for Negroes was about the only thing we had in common. Academically, Glen was one of the slower members of our class. His interests were zoo animals that he convinced a series of relatives take him to visit and comic books. I could take both in small doses but listening to Glen with that nasal voice of his go on and on about giraffe necks drove me to hide in the bathroom.

Christmas of 1947 was a good one for me, not because of the many toys my parents and grandparents bought me but because of the joy on Freddy's face that afternoon when I gave half of them to him. It got even better. Three times over the holidays, while his mother was out

buying groceries or running errands with my mother, we were able to sneak into my bedroom and make love in my bed. The last time, they came back early. I had to divert them to the living room while Freddy sneaked out the back. But we'd had two orgasms each in a warm bed instead of our prickly sleeping bag.

The school year dragged on interminably except for my afternoons and weekends with Freddy and often Douglas though he came less and less. Freddy said he was working with his window-washing uncle. That was fine with me. Annoying pubic hair had sprouted around his growing cock that he was too often pushing too far down my throat. Snug inside our sleeping bag, I tried kissing Freddy on the lips a few times but he wouldn't allow it. We did vary how we had our sex. I preferred lying on my back and pulling my legs up to my ribs. That way I could put my arms around Freddy and enjoy the feel of his abdomen against my cock. Sometimes he'd drip saliva there so it was all slippery. That always got me off before Freddy. Then pulsing constrictions of my rectum would take him over the top. I tried to get him to suck me but had the same success as kissing. He did agree to jerk me off while I sucked him or he fucked me.

What I really liked most was the physical closeness sex afforded us. Freddy gradually became the most important person in my life, easily surpassing my distant parents. Our play was far ranging. Nearly half my toys were stashed in our tree lookout. We explored every inch

of the woods all the way out to the new houses being built nearly a mile and a half away, well past his house. I had my mother buy me extra notebooks and textbooks claiming mine had been used up. I began to teach Freddy what I was being taught in school. He was a fast learner and within a few weeks could write most of the letters of the alphabet and read a little. We could and did talk about anything that came into our seven year old minds.

Freddy's eighth birthday was on March fourteenth in that year of nineteen forty-eight. We found that out by accident a few days before. One of Freddy's cousins, a sixteen year old named Vivian, was a birthday maven of sorts and mentioned to Freddy's five year old sister that her brother's birthday was just a few days after hers which was the eleventh. The sister made comments to Freddy's mother about her own birthday, casually mentioning that Freddy's was close to hers so they should both have a party. The little sister's comments were overheard by Douglas' sister who told him. Douglas told us. When Freddy asked his mother, she apologized and promised something for the following Saturday, the day after his actual birthday. All this happened within two hours on Sunday afternoon, March ninth.

Naturally, I wanted to give Freddy a present. He already had a bunch of my toys at his house and played with others we stashed in our forest lookout. I wanted something he could use. Even though he was eight months older than me, we were both the same size so clothes were an easy choice. I had plenty of everything including some nice coats and sweaters. The problem was what his mother was going to think about it. We'd covered his Christmas gifts saying that some families on the far side of the forest were giving away Christmas toys. Douglas reluctantly backed up that lie and Freddy's mother didn't have time to check it out. Keep in mind, he wasn't supposed to be hanging around with me or my father threatened he would fire Martha as our maid.

Freddy needed the coat. His was torn and only had insulation on one side. But I just couldn't think of any believable source for that coat. I'd wanted to surprise him but needed his help to come up with a reason for him to have it.

We recruited Douglas to help think of something but the three of us never came up with any remotely viable reason why someone would have given him a coat. Were he to claim he'd done some work for someone and they gave it out of the generosity of their heart, already a shaky proposition, his mother would want to thank them. In the end, the coat stayed in my closet. Freddy brought me some chicken and cornbread with honey from the party. I gave him a blowjob and an ass wiggling fuck, the best I could offer.

I have no idea what my mother and father thought I was doing all that time away from the house but guess they were just as happy I wasn't underfoot.

Then came summer vacation. Though I fought it furiously, I was packed off to a YMCA camp to spend four weeks in a cabin with screens for windows and horrible drinks at meals appropriately called 'bug juice'. We were grouped twelve to a cabin by age placing me as one of a dozen noisy seven year olds. Generally, it was terrible. The food was bland. The bathrooms were 'latrines'. We peed and pooped into smelly holes in a broad wooden plank. Showers were cold and unroofed. But, at least there was no hiding bodies. Everybody was naked in front of everyone else. Nonetheless, I cried for Freddy the first couple of nights. Masturbation to thoughts of Freddy's dick inside me, with my finger doing his part, was how I got to sleep.

There were bright spots during my stay. One was watching one of the counselors having sex with two of his boys, about eleven, from the cabin across from mine.

On about the fifth night, I couldn't go to sleep from fretting over Freddy. I was sitting up, teary eyed, staring out through the screen into the dark, listening to the crickets when I heard whispering and quiet giggling. A door squeaked open and three figures wrapped in blankets darted out and down the path into the woods. A flashlight came on when they were about thirty yards away. At first, I figured they were going to the bathroom but they went on by it. My mind drifted back to Freddy. Sunday night, upset at being one of the few kids not visited by his parents, the only one in my cabin, I again couldn't get to sleep. The same door opened and three figures followed the same path as before. More for something to do than anything else, I climbed down off my top bunk, slipped on a pair of sneakers and, clad in my pajamas, ran after the trio. They weren't hard to follow with that flashlight bouncing all over. There was a noisy, wide stream that blocked me from hearing them and vice versa. They stopped at a picnic area. One boy tossed off his blanket, jumped up on the plank tabletop and stripped off his pajama bottoms, wiggling his ass back and forth and playing with a hard on. The half moon revealed that one of the three was a man. He pulled the dancer by the arm down to the table and dropped his mouth onto the boy's groin, licking all about his peter. The other boy sat across from him and watched. The first boy grabbed the man's head, lifted it and lowered it onto his cock. The second boy put his hand on the man's head and pushed it down each time it came up.

My dick responded. I began massaging myself.

The boy on the table pumped up into the man's mouth. His companion put his hand between his friend's legs up against his balls. The first boy said something then sat up suddenly and held the man's head tightly into his crotch. The second boy quickly took off his pajamas and underwear and began pushing his buddy off the table but his friend motioned for him to wait. The second boy didn't. He sat along side his friend and started pulling the man's head to him. The first boy finally relented and moved off.

I was bitten by a mosquito. Up until that point, I was so completely absorbed by what I was witnessing that I hadn't noticed the high pitched whining around me. A nasty bite registered the presence of the insects. I flung my arms all over to chase the annoying bugs away. I remembered seeing the boy on the table wave his arms several times and now knew why. That boy now held the flashlight right on the action. I saw the man's face clearly. It was the counselor for the two boys' group. The second boy took longer and stayed lying down when he came. I could tell he had reached orgasm because he grabbed the counselor's head and held it on him.

The two boys argued amicably then the first boy again removed the pajama bottoms he'd put back on and climbed back on the table, this time tummy down. The counselor spread the boy's legs and pushed his face between them, obviously licking up and down. Then he stood up, dropped his own pajama bottoms and underwear and hopped on the table behind the boy. The flashlight was on the big mancock as he dripped saliva over it. He lowered himself, his cock dipping between the boy's legs. Was he sticking it inside of him? That would really hurt. The man lay on top of the boy and fucked up and down. The boy with the flashlight pushed on the rising and falling ass. I hardly noticed another mosquito bite. I was masturbating fast as I could. I think the man and I came at about the same time.

Eventually, the counselor pulled out and the boy got up. His friend had a canteen they used to clean up something off the table. I surmised it was sperm and that the man had cum between the boy's legs as Douglas had with me with the same resulting mess below.

The three, again wrapped in blankets, walked quietly back to

their cabin. I followed them at a distance trying to figure how I could become part of what I'd seen.

I got a better look at the two boys the following day when we were all in the pool. I wasn't really in the pool but under an umbrella covered with suntan oil having burned myself a deep red. The two were very pretty boys with strong bodies and blonde hair, nothing like puny little me, more like Tommy Atkins from my class. I doubted the man, well built and handsome, would be interested in me. Nor would the boys who already had the man. I developed another hardon anyway. I followed the two boys into the dressing room to check out their cocks in the shower. Freddy had always said that fucking felt much better than getting sucked. Maybe they'd prefer my tight little ass to the man's mouth. One's cock was not a lot bigger than mine. The other was larger, about the size of Freddy's.

My mind drifted away from the rest of the day's activities trying to figure a way to get the larger cocked boy to fuck me without being turned down and everyone in the camp hearing of my offer. I came up with nothing though I did briefly toy with the idea of speaking with the counselor and seeing if he'd make the offer.

At bedtime, I looked at the other eleven boys in my cabin. A couple were nice and had enough of a cock to fill me up but they were a lot like the kids in my class. They ignored me when I tried to do something with them. Non-athletes were just not a very popular bunch.There was one boy, Jimmy, who had a decent sized penis that he played with a lot. Our counselor was forever pushing his hand away from his crotch saying that wasn't polite in public. Jimmy had a thick muscular ass and strong legs but not much of an upper body. His face was a bit like that of my first fuck, Carter: squarish and freckled.

By the end of the second week, I was masturbating every night, occasionally sneaking off to the woods for more, and in great need of another body, very lonely for Freddie. Jimmy became increasingly desireable. Saturday afternoon, I managed to go to the urinal with him. I said, 'I like to play a lot with mine too but I don't let Mr. John see me.'

Jimmy looked at me, then my hand massaging my penis. 'Whatta ya mean?'

'I do it in bed and in the woods.'

'No, I mean what do you do?'

'I go up and down on it like this.' I demonstrated my fingertip masturbation technique.

He imitated me. 'Like this?'

'Uh huh.'

'Then what?'

'Just keep doing it until it feels really good.'

'How long?'

'A few minutes. Wanna go do it in the woods?'

'Unh uh. Mr. John'll catch us. Anyhow we're supposed to do archery now.'

'Wait a minute, we can tell him we don't feel good and go back to the cabin.'

'Anybody can see us in there.'

'No, then we can go back up the trail into the woods. I know a place.'

His cock had become erect. I was sorely tempted to take it in my hand. He said, 'Okay.'

Our counselor nodded at our request to rest in the cabin. We walked back past the picnic area, up a hill and over the top. There was absolute silence, no one in sight. I suggested this was the place.

I unbuttoned my shorts and pushed down my underwear. Jimmy followed suit. I lost control.

'Wanna stick yours inside my rear?'

Jimmy's eyes widened. He stared at my wiener. 'You do it to me first.'

That was absolutely the last response I expected. I quickly agreed, thrilled that I was finally going to experience what Freddy and Carter had so many times. He had no idea how we were going to do it. I wasn't entirely sure myself.

'Lie down,' I instructed him.

He lay on his back.

I was about to tell him to roll over but decided it might be easier from the front. Freddy was able to get deeper inside me that way. My cock felt like it was going to burst.I knelt between his legs and lifted them up and back. He caught on and raised his rear high as he could. I dripped spit on my cock and his hole then leaned in. I had to adjust the position of my knees to line up but once there, I poked right inside. It was incredibly wet and warm inside him. The same butterflies Freddy generated flew out from my groin. I pushed in hard as I could. Jimmy's eyes were closed. I lay forward and began fucking, being careful not to pull all the way out. Jimmy held tightly to his knees, pulling them back hard as he could. I was then pushing off with my toes, the weight of my body on Jimmy's and my hands. Each time my cock was completely buried in him, his flesh against mine, the warmth took my breath away. I understood why Freddy loved this so much, wanted to do it everyday.

I don't know if Jimmy realized when I reached my climax. His position didn't change a bit; his eyes remained closed. I was dizzy from the ecstasy of the feeling flowing through my body. I collapsed on top of Jimmy and waited for the throbbing to dissipate.

'How come you're stopping?' he asked.

''Cause it's your turn.'

'Okay.'

He waited for me to get off him then watched me lie down in the leaves. His cock was hard as a totem pole and stuck almost straight out from his body. He was one of the few uncircumcised boys at the camp.

I raised my knees up to my shoulders. Jimmy was very hesitant, unsure. He spit into his hand, glancing at me probably for approval then rubbed the spit on his cock. I slobbered into my palm and wet my raised rectum. He wobbled back and forth trying to line up his cock head with my hole. I guided him with my hand, pulling him in until his tip was inside my pucker.

'Go in, now,' I told him.

He pushed all the way in. His mouth opened; his eyes widened. It was almost as good as Freddy for me. Jimmy pushed up and down without withdrawing, obviously immersed in the joy of the moment. I was perfectly happy to let him do whatever he wanted. It had been almost two weeks since my hole had had a live occupant other than my hard finger.

Watching where we were joined, Jimmy started rocking back and forth rather than fucking, forcing his cock to swish up and down inside me. It was wonderful. I'd have to tell Freddy about it. Gradually, he increased the rate of his rocking, forcing me back in the leaves. He followed, moving forward on his knees and toes, his eyes now closed. I gripped his hips to stay with him. He opened his eyes.

'What?' he asked.

'No, nothing, don't stop!'

The base of his abdomen was now rubbing against my balls and the base of my cock. I pulled him tighter to me. He rocked harder, faster. I felt and saw him tensing. He gritted his teeth and went faster then shook all over. His cock throbbed powerfully inside me. He dropped on top of me and gave me a frantic embrace.

'Wow, that was really neat, he said after a while. 'Let's do it again.'

Now that I'd cooled my cockles, I was a bit more cautious and worried that we were in too open a place to continue.

'We better get back now. We can do it tonight.'

He agreed. We dressed and walked swiftly back to the cabin. Two of the kids were inside changing shorts they'd dirtied probably at the stream.

After dinner, Jimmy and I told the counselor we were going to the latrine but headed up into the woods, stumbling in the dark over every twig and bush in our way. The silence and darkness frightened Jimmy.

'Let's wait 'til tomorrow,' he said already heading back down the hill.

The next day was visitor's day. Jimmy's mother and four sisters and brothers came and spent most of the day with him. Once again, I waited in vain to hear my name called. I fell asleep weeping for Freddy. At dinner, Jimmy whispered in my ear, 'Let's go into the woods and do it again, wanna?'

I did and we did.

Jimmy and I managed to have sex at least once a day in every imaginable location, even the stream. He sat on a large rock under the water and I sat on his stone pillar. There were other kids as close as five yards away. We laughed but Jimmy couldn't get off like that. We did it several times at night right there in the cabin in his lower bunk. We tried mine but the squeaking was terrible. We were sure someone would be awakened.

I showed him how to suck but he much preferred getting fucked and fucking.

I forgot about the boys and their counselor from the eleven year old kids' cabin. I had what I needed with Jimmy.

Neither of my parents came to visit making the last Sunday as unpleasant as the others but I knew that later I'd be inside Jimmy and he'd be inside me. I thought about what other boys might be doing what we did. It seemed sure most were but very clever about it because, other than the two with their counselor, I hadn't seen any evidence of other liaisons. The end of camp was very difficult for Jimmy. He lived in another city over an hour from mine. There was no way we would see one another before the following summer. He gave me his address and telephone number. I gave him my address but didn't know my telephone number. We managed one more session on a hill above the cabins. After each had his turn inside the other, Jimmy suggested, 'Let's do it again so I can remember.'

Even though I'd just fucked him, he wanted to go last. That worked for me too. I preferred to be on the receiving end. I screwed him for a while and faked my orgasm so I could have one with him inside me. He lay on top of me and pumped slowly for a long time. That was when we heard our names being called from below.

'Hurry up,' I told him.

He thrust in hard a few times and had a slow pulsing orgasm. I left frustrated but content.

I arrived at my house just before dinner. The camp station wagon brought me home. My parents apparently were too busy to pick me up even at YMCA headquarters right there in the city. Freddy's mother was preparing dinner. She stopped when I came in and smiled. We'd been reasonably nice to each other the last few months before I went off to camp. I knew the situation with Freddy wasn't her fault.

'You have a nice time?'

'It was okay.'

'You make a lot of friends?'

'Well, one, a boy named Jimmy. We played together a lot but he lives far away.'

'Look, Maacum, I know you been playin' wi' my Freddy an' it's okay but don' never bring him aroun' here o' I'm gonna be in seros trouble wi' yo' daddy.'

'I'll never, promise.' I lied and gave her a big hug.

'I'll tell Freddy you home so's ya'll can play tomorra.'

Mother feigned interest in what I'd done at camp but I could tell she was thinking about other things. My father only said, 'Welcome home' and ruffled my hair.

The next morning I was at the stream right after breakfast. Freddy was waiting. I embraced him with all my strength, tears coming to my eyes.

'Who told your mother about us playing together?' I asked him after we'd danced around a bit.

'I dunno' but she weren't too mad. Din't hit me o' nothin'. You can come to mah house if you wants.'

'Let's go today but first...' I grinned. We climbed the watchtower tree and retrieved a blanket. While he was fucking me from the front, I told him about Jimmy.

'Who does it better, him o' me?' he asked seriously.

'You!'

That seemed to settle that. He lay on me and put his head on my shoulder. He did do it better. It felt so much cozier, nicer inside with my wonderful friend. After a while, he pulled out and rolled me over onto my back. He raised my legs with his arms under my knees and was quickly back inside, fucking slowly, gently, prolonging our union for the longest time we'd ever done it. When he finally got close, I hugged him tight and kissed his cheek by his mouth repeatedly. Just before the pulsing began, he kissed me softly on the lips. Once his orgasm had subsided, he rolled us onto our sides, him behind me, pulled the blanket over us and just lay there. I drifted off to sleep. When I awoke who knows how much later, he was pumping gently again, not going for an orgasm, just enjoying the feeling. I reached back and caressed his back and buns. He took my cock in his hand and slowly masturbated me to a gentle orgasm. Although I only climaxed once that day, it was still the most memorable sex I've ever had.

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Malcolm

Chapter 1

First Experiences

by Michael Peterson