It was a lazy Wednesday summer afternoon, and I was sitting on the porch steps just looking around. My mother sent me outside to play, but there was no one to play with. My friends were at the park playing baseball. However, I had fallen out of a tree a few days earlier and hurt my foot. My mother panicked and rushed me to the hospital because she thought I had broken it, but it was only a bad bruise. I tried to convince her it wasn’t broken, but she wouldn’t listen to me. Now, she’s mad at me because the hospital charged her a lot of money for doing nothing except putting some ointment on my bruise.

I could hear my friends shouting in the distance. I wanted to go watch them, but it would be embarrassing for me to tell them I can’t play because I fell out of a tree. I was already small, and it would just make them think that I was weak. Every twelve-year-old boy should be able to climb a tree like a monkey, shouldn’t they? They probably wouldn’t let me play anyway. I’m always the last to be picked because of my size. I’m shorter than my friends, and I only weigh 70 pounds. My friend, Jeff, always kids me and tells me to go lie down and be first base. They get a good laugh, but I don’t think it’s funny.

“Philly!” hollered out Mom as she opened the screen door. “What are you doing? You’re being so quiet.”

I hollered back sarcastically, “What’s it look like I’m doing? I’m sitting on the porch.”

“Don’t get smart with me, Phillip,” she replied angrily. I was going to tell her that it’s impossible to get smart with her, but I bit my lip. She was already mad at me, and I probably would get a whipping with the paddle. She keeps a paddle in the top drawer of her dresser for such occasions. When I was younger, she would use it on me almost once a week. Now that I’m getting older, she finds other ways to punish me like not playing with my friends for a day or two.

I jumped when she slammed the door shut. I knew she would tell my father when he got home. He’s a big man who works at the Ford assembly plant. He spent four years in the Army serving oversees fighting in the war. Sometimes he scares me when he tells stories about how he had to shoot German soldiers. He and mom were married before he left for overseas. I’m the oldest of three kids. I guess I was born nine months after he left for Germany. I have a sister who is a year younger than me, and a brother who is two years younger. Mom joked once that we were furlough babies. I’m not really sure what that means.

Mom doesn’t work. She says she had a job working in a grocery store before she married dad, but she gave it up when I came along. I suppose women weren’t supposed to work when they have babies. Dad makes enough money though. We have a nice four-bedroom house, and he drives a black Ford Victoria. I think he likes Mom telling him I was bad so he can punish me by washing his car.

It was June, and the sun was beating down on me. I took off my shirt, laid back and closed my eyes. It felt good. I was almost asleep when I heard a bike go past the house. I opened them and noticed a boy pedaling away. He had put cards on the spokes to make a flapping noise. Some of the other guys did it, but I was afraid to take cards out of the game drawer to put them on my bike. Dad would have gotten really mad if he found out what I did.

The boy didn’t look familiar. And I wasn’t sure if he had a dark tan, or he was a black boy. It couldn’t have been a black boy because we didn’t have any black families who lived in the neighborhood. There were about five who attended my elementary school, but none lived where we did. Most stayed on the other side of town.

I was curious who he was, so I hurried to the side of the house where my bike was located, and I started pedaling down the street. My right foot still hurt, so I tried to do most of the pedaling with my left. I had to struggle to keep going straight. When I arrived at a stop sign down the street, I stopped and looked both ways. I didn’t see him anywhere. I shrugged my shoulders and decided I would go watch my friends play at the ball field about a block away. When I arrived, I saw the boy on the bike resting under an elm tree watching my friends play. I rode my bike over to where he was and stopped beside him.

He cautiously eyed me. I was right too. He was black, and he appeared to be about my age. When I got off my bike, he became very defensive. I noticed that he balled his fists as if he was going to fight me.

I smiled and said, “Hi, I’m Philly.” He continued to stare at me. I guess he was trying to figure out if I was a threat to him. I don’t know why he would feel like that though. He was much bigger than me, and he could have easily taken care of himself. I walked a few steps away and sat down, watching my friends play baseball.

I watched out of the corner of my eyes as he decided what to do. I know he was afraid because I was white, and he was in a white neighborhood. If he was so scared, why was he even here? After several minutes, he got off his bike and put down the kickstand. Reluctantly, he walked over and sat down beside me.

“Hi,” he said. I looked over and smiled. He was really cute. His hair was curly, and he had sparkling brown eyes. I know I shouldn’t think he was cute because he was a boy. And besides, he was black. I wasn’t even sure if I was supposed to be talking to him. The Black students at my school stayed to themselves. I didn’t’ t know much of what was happening, but I sometimes watched the evening news with my parents. I had seen a few news stories where Black people were complaining about the way they were being treated. They felt they should have the same rights as white people. I didn’t understand it at all. The way I see it, we are all human beings with different colored skin. There are white dogs and black dogs. They seem to get along. So, what was the big deal anyway?

“I’m Phil,” I replied with a smile.

He chuckled and said, “You already told me that.” He looked out over the field and asked, “Are those your friends? Why aren’t you playing baseball?”

I reached down and rubbed the bruise on my foot. “I hurt myself last week. I can’t play.”

“Sorry,” he apologized. “Did you hurt it playing baseball?”

“Nope,” I replied as my face began to redden. “I fell out of a tree.”

I thought he would make fun of me, but he didn’t. Instead, he looked down at my foot and said, “Ouch. That had to have hurt.” I let out a little gasp when he reached down and gently touched my bruise. He withdrew his hand quickly and said apologetically, “Sorry. I shouldn’t have touched you.”

“It’s okay,” I replied. I was puzzled by the way he said it. “Why can’t you touch me?

“My momma warned me about touching white people,” he replied. “She said I shouldn’t do it?”

“Why?”

He shrugged his shoulders and said, “I dunno. She just said I shouldn’t.”

I giggled and replied, “Well, you can touch me anytime you want.” We both leaned back, looked over and laughed. I was beginning to feel that we could be good friends. I reminded him, “You never told me what your name is.”

“Oh, yeah,” he smiled. “My name is Jeremiah Oliver, but everyone calls me Jerry,” he frowned and added, “Well, everyone except my mom and dad.”

I was curious and asked, “Why won’t they call you Jerry?”

He frowned and replied, “I guess Jeremiah is a Bible name. My dad was a pastor, so they won’t call me Jerry.”

I asked, “Are you new around here? I’ve never seen you before.”

Jerry explained that his family had just moved into the neighborhood, about two blocks from my house. He said they had moved from New Jersey when his father was offered a job in a factory across town.

“Why did you move around here?” I asked.

He shrugged his shoulders and replied, “I dunno. We looked at houses in the black section of town, but Dad liked this area. He said it is closer to his job.” He looked out at the boys playing baseball. “I’m not sure I’m going to fit in here.”

I really didn’t know what he was talking about. He seemed like a nice guy to me. I couldn’t understand why he felt he wouldn’t fit in. So, I asked him why. “Dad told me that people might not like me because of my color. We’ve already had a few neighbors who told us they didn’t like us moving next door to them.”

“That’s stupid,” I replied.

He shrugged his shoulders and said, “I suppose that is the way things are.”

I stood and grabbed his arm, pulling him to his feet. “Come on,” I insisted. “I want you to meet some of the guys.” He hesitated a minute before he finally agreed. We jumped on our bikes and rode across the field. The boys in the outfield yelled at us to get off the field. We got off our bikes and watched the game safely behind third base. When the inning was over, a couple of the guys walked over and gave us suspicious looks.

“Who’s this, Phil?” asked Mike, the third baseman. I introduced them to Jerry. I told them he was new to the area. They politely said hello.

“Can you bat?” asked Steven, the pitcher.

Jerry told them that he had played for a little league team where he was from. That seemed to impress them. “I like playing basketball more,” he informed them. Steven pulled him up by his arm, and they headed over to where a group of other boys had gathered. I watched as they talked to Jerry. When the next inning began, they handed Jerry a bat and told him they wanted to see what he had.

On the second swing, he hit the ball over the centerfielder’s head. He quickly ran around the bases and crossed home plate before the fielder could retrieve the ball. All the guys rushed over and patted him on his back. I watched for a few more minutes before I jumped on my bike and sadly pedaled home. I don’t think Jerry was even aware I had left.

When I entered the kitchen, Mom told me that dinner would be ready in an hour. I went to my room, closed the door and lay on the bed. I was upset about what happened earlier. I was embarrassed because I hadn’t been asked to join the guys playing baseball. I know I’m not the best player, but they just ignored me and gave Jerry all their attention. I was happy that they had accepted him so quickly. He was afraid he wouldn’t fit in. But he fit in right away. I’ve grown up with them, but they didn’t even ask me if I wanted to play.

Mom hollered up the stairs for me and my brother and sister to come down for dinner. I’m fortunate that I don’t have to share a bedroom with my little brother, Jeff. We have four bedrooms, so we each have our own room. Jeff’s room is across from mine. Sometimes he thinks my room is his. I come home often, and he’s on my bed reading my comic books. My sister, Emily, has a room next to Jeff. We have one bathroom which we share. Jeff and I have no problem. However, Mom has warned us not to let Emily see our ‘nasty parts.’ I don’t understand what is so nasty about them.

As we were eating dinner, Dad began to rant about a new supervisor who had been hired. “I don’t know why they didn’t hire someone on the inside. But they had to go and hire some nigger from New Jersey.” He took a drink from his coffee mug and slammed it down on the table. “I’m not going to let some nigger tell me what to do.”

“Now, now, Roger,” she warned him as she looked at me and my brother and sister. “Don’t talk like that in front of the children.”

“Daddy?” asked Jeff. “What’s a nigger?”

“See what you’ve done?” She angrily yelled at my father.

She patted Jeff on the hand and said, “Forget you heard your father use that horrible word.” She caste my father and angry look. He ate quickly and then left the table in a huff. Later, Jeff asked me what the word meant, but I told him I didn’t know. One thing I did realize, though. The man he was talking about was Jerry’s father.

The next morning after breakfast, I became bored sitting in my bedroom reading comics. Jeff came in for a little while and joined me until Cooper, his friend next door barged in and wanted him to go outside and play. I went downstairs to get a cookie and ran into my mother.

“Philly,” she said as she grabbed her purse off the counter. “I’m going shopping with Mrs. Ellis this morning. Keep an eye on your brother and sister for me.”

“Sure,” I replied as she left through the door. I waited until I heard the garage door close, and then I went outside grabbed my baseball glove and jumped on my bike. I wanted to see if the guys were playing baseball in the field. There were about nine guys there when I arrived. Jerry was one of them. He smiled when he saw me approach.

“Hey, Buddy,” he said as he put his arm around my shoulder. I wanted to pull away, but I was afraid he would think I did it because he was black. The truth was, I was attracted to him. I had never felt the feelings I was having about him. I was at an age where girls didn’t interest me, but I had never thought of any of my friends in the way I was about Jerry. I had never thought of another boy as cute. I didn’t know what I was feeling, but I knew it wasn’t natural. Boys are supposed to like girls, not another boy.

Since I made the tenth boy, the others had no choice but choose me to play. Jerry insisted that I be on his team. He was going to pitch, and he wanted me to play catcher. I did a really good job. I played better than I had ever played. Even the others kidded me on how well I was catching. I didn’t want to confess that Jerry had a lot to do with that. I wanted to make a good impression on him, so I gave it 110%. Two hours later, I was exhausted. My hand hurt from his fast balls, and my shoulders were killing me from tossing the ball to him. I was rewarded when the last inning was over, and he ran to the plate and hugged me.

When we climbed on our bikes, Jerry asked me what I was going to do. “Nothing,” I replied. “I guess I’ll go back home.”

“Why don’t you come home with me?” he suggested.

“Won’t you parents care?” I asked. I wasn’t sure they would like a white boy just showing up on their doorstep unannounced.

He smiled and said, “They are at work. We’ll be alone.”

Every thought in my head was warning me not to do it. I knew I couldn’t trust my feelings by being alone with Jerry. I wasn’t sure what was happening to me, but I knew I didn’t want to ruin a friendship with Jerry by doing or saying something I shouldn’t. My dick had already gotten hard a couple of times when I watched him on the pitcher’s mount. Fortunately, I was wearing a chest protector so no one could see it protruding from the thin shorts I had on.

I followed Jerry on his bike to his house. I was still hesitant to go in when we arrived. When he saw me standing reluctantly beside my bike, he laughed, grabbed my arm and pulled me inside. Jerry assured me that no one would be home. He was an only child, so we didn’t have to worry about a brother or sister. I followed him down the hall to his bedroom. It looked like a boy’s room. Even though he had just moved in, it looked like he had been there for a long time. He had sports posters on the wall. Most were basketball players I didn’t know. He had a bookshelf with a couple of trophies. He said he had won them playing basketball in New Jersey.

“Are you good?” I asked as I picked up a trophy.

He shrugged his shoulders and replied, “I dunno. My dad says I am. I want to play when I get to high school.”

“If you’re half as good at basketball,” I said, “as you are playing baseball, you’ll make the team.”

“I hope,” he said as he pulled his tee shirt over his head. I stood and stared at his beautiful body. He smiled when I noticed me gazing at him. Our eyes met, and he pulled his pants off. He wasn’t hard, but there was a nice bulge protruding from his boxer shorts. “I’m hot,” he said as he turned to leave the room. “I’m going to go take a shower. Make yourself at home.”

I sat on the edge of the bed and couldn’t believe what had just happened. I saw Jerry almost naked, and my mind was in overdrive and my dick was harder than it had ever been. When I heard the shower turn off, my heart started pounding rapidly. What if he came back into the room naked? How should I act?

And Jerry did. He entered the room drying his hair with a towel. At first, he didn’t see me staring at his cock hanging below a small tuft of dark hair. He already had pubic hair! None of the guys had pubic hair yet. We would check each other out in gym class when we showered waiting for the first hairs to appear. Buddy had a couple that were starting to show, but that was it. I was still smooth. Jerry removed the towel and smiled when he saw me staring at his dick.

“What? he laughed. “You’ve never seen a dick before?”

My face reddened as I stammered out, “Yeah, I’ve seen a dick before. Just not one with hair on it.”

“Oh this,” he laughed as he ran his fingers through it. When he did, it began to harden. “It started growing last year. Don’t you have any?”

“No,” I said embarrassingly. “Not yet.”

He approached me naked and asked challengingly. “You want to feel it?”

“Nooo!” I stammered again nervously.

“It’s okay, really,” he said. “I don’t care.” I couldn’t move when he took my hand and lifted it to his pubic hair, letting me rub it. He was now completely erect.

I quickly pulled my hand away and stood. “We shouldn’t be doing this,” I said adamantly. I was afraid one of his parents might return home and see what we were doing.

“Why?” he asked. “Me and my cousin did this all the time. He’s not around now, and I miss him.”

I asked incredulously, “You let your cousin touch you?”

“Yeah, sure,” he replied. “It was fun. We did more than touch.” He reached out, grabbed my tee shirt and started to pull it off me.

“No!” I shouted as I took a step back. I couldn’t help but look at his erection. I wanted to feel it, but something told me that I shouldn’t.”

“Come on, Jerry,” he pleaded. “We can have some fun. No one will ever know, I promise.” I couldn’t stop him if I wanted to when he pulled my tee shirt off. “Cool,” he said as he looked at my chest. “I’ve never done anything with a white boy.”

“I’ve never done anything with a boy,” I muttered.

“Really?” he asked. “You and your friends have never done anything together?”

“No!” I replied. We had many sleepovers together at each other’s houses, but we never ever thought of messing around.

He pushed me back on the bed, and I didn’t resist when he removed my underwear and shorts. I couldn’t believe I was lying naked in front of another boy. He laid down beside me and started stroking my four-inch dick. “Nice,” he said as I lay back and moaned. I didn’t resist when he took my hand and folded it around his erection. “This is going to be fun,” he said excitedly.

Before I realized what was happening, he had leaned down and taken my dick in his mouth! I couldn’t believe it. It felt great! It was better than when I jerk off at night. A few months ago, I began to cum. My loads were small, but they still felt good. I would grab a few tissues from the bathroom before going to bed. I would cum in them, and then toss them into the toilet in the morning so my mother wouldn’t know what I was doing.

But my mind was in overdrive by what Jerry was doing to me. It was obvious he had done it many times. Then suddenly, I got that tickle in my balls, and I knew I was going to cum. I grabbed Jerry’s head and tried to pull him off, but he batted my hand away. I could feel my dick pulsing as I exploded in his mouth. When I was finished, he sat up, wiped off his mouth and said, “Cool.” Then he grinned, put my hand on his erection and said, “Now, it’s my turn.”

I was stunned. I didn’t know what to do. I just thought he wanted to suck me. I didn’t know that he would expect me to return the favor. “I’ve…never…sucked a dick…before,” I stammered.

“It’s okay, Phil,” he assured me. “Just do what I did. Just be careful and don’t scrap your teeth against me.” He took my hand and wrapped it around his dick. I leaned over and looked at it. It was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. It was about five and a half inches long, and very thick. I was fascinated by his black, curly pubic hair. I ran my hand gingerly over it. When Jerry saw how hesitant I was to suck him, he put his hand gently on the back of my head and pushed me toward the head. “Just put a little in your mouth,” he pleaded.

And I did. I leaned forward and took about two inches into my mouth. I thought I would be disgusted, but I wasn’t. Sucking Jerry was the greatest thrill of my life. He moaned as I sucked in another inch. Within a few minutes, I was sucking him like he had sucked me. And he was enjoying it as much as I was. He kept moaning loudly and encouraging me to continue.

“You’re really good, Phil,” he moaned as he held the back of my head and fucked my eager mouth. “Oh, shit!” he cried out as I felt his cum filling my mouth. I wanted to gag, but I didn’t’ t want to embarrass myself. I let it flow out of my mouth and down onto the sheet. I smiled as I watched Jerry’s chest heaving from the excitement. I was proud of myself for what I had done. I didn’t feel at all dirty.

He sat up and threw his legs over the edge of the bed. “You better go,” he warned as he looked at the clock. “My mother gets off work in fifteen minutes.” We hurriedly dressed, and I followed him to the door.

“Thanks, Phil,” he said smilingly. “That was great.”

I returned his smile and replied, “I liked it too.”

“Now, remember,” he warned. “You can’t tell anyone what we just did. It will be just our secret.”

“I promise,” I replied. I turned and left his house. I whistled a tune as I biked home.

* * * * * *

“Wow!” exclaimed Colin. “That was hot. Did you and Jerry keep seeing each other?”

I lay back and looked up at the ceiling. “A few times,” I replied. “He started running around with my friends. He was always playing baseball or basketball. He invited me home a couple of times, but it wasn’t the same. I started to feel that he was just using me. When we entered junior high school, he started dating a girl. After that, he rarely spoke to me. I think he was afraid that I would tell people what we did. I realized that he was straight, and I think he thought I was too. It was just something fun that we did for a while.”

Colin frowned and said, “Sorry.”

I looked at him and said challengingly, “Now it’s your turn. Tell me about your first time.”

He frowned and replied, “Not too much to tell you.” He stood and looked out the window. “I was fifteen, a sophomore, and he was seventeen, a senior. I had a huge crush on him, and he knew it. I didn’t play sports. I was on the debate team at school. He was one of my teammates.”

Colin walked over and sat down in his chair. “We had a competition in Baltimore, and Bill and I were assigned as roommates in a hotel.” He sighed and continued. “After we won, he went down the hall and got drunk with some of our buddies on the team. I was too young, so they wouldn’t let me join them. When he returned, he threw himself on the bed and fell asleep.”

“He awoke me about three o’clock when he climbed into my bed naked. He pressed his body against mine, and I could smell the whiskey on his breath. He told me he knew I was gay and that I wanted him. He said he was going to give me the opportunity. I tried to fight him off, but he was much bigger than me.”

I looked over and saw tears flowing down Colin’s face. “I really did try to stop him. He scooted up and shoved his dick in my mouth. I started gagging, and he told me I better not throw up on him. I tried to push him away, but he kept shoving it back into my mouth. Finally, he came all over my face. He got up and climbed back into his bed. I went into the bathroom and tried to shower his filth off me. I must have been in there for an hour crying. If there had been anything in the room I could have used to kill myself, I would have done it that night.”

I watched as Colin completely broke down. I reached out and gripped his hand as he sobbed hysterically. He sat up and said, “This is the first time I’ve ever talked about it.” He then put his head in his hands and continued to cry. When he finished crying, I asked him if he was alright.

“Yeah,” he replied. “It was a big relief talking about it. I’ve kept it bottled up so long.” He gripped my hand and said, “Thanks.”

After several minutes, Colin asked, “Did you ever do anything with anyone else while you were in school?”

I looked out the window and saw Bobby looking in. “Yeah,” I replied. “I did.”

Colin rose and smiled down at me. “You can tell me about it tomorrow, Phil.” He looked at the clock. It was after six. “It’s late and I have to go.”

I winked at him and said, “See you tomorrow.” I looked out the window and saw Bobby still looking inside at me.

Send comments to: ronyx@themustardjar.com

Follow TMJ on Facebook

I'm have a Facebook page for those who want to follow and comment there.  Also, receive notices when a new chapter is posted.