Copyright © 2014-2019 DouglasDD. All Rights Reserved.
Welcome back for more of the Posse. I appreciate you readers who stick with my long stories—it means a lot to me.
The twins arrived at Patrick’s house close to their usual time. They were disappointed to see that he was already dressed and ready to leave for school. They were surprised to see Patrick’s father, Brian, in the living room sipping from a mug of coffee.
“Hey, Mr. Gardner, wazzup?” Mark asked as he and his brother entered from the dining room. The side door was left unlocked in the morning so Mark and Matthew could enter the house on their own in case nobody was in a position answer the door.
“I’ve told you boys you can call me Brian.”
“The rents say we have to call adults by their last name,” Matthew said.
“Yeah, but we can call you Mr. G if you’re cool with that,” Mark said.
“Hey, Wombat, how’d the game go yesterday?” Matthew was referring to the soccer game between Patrick’s Kickers and Will’s Red Devils.
“We won, 7-2.”
“Oh, wow, that was a serious ass kicking,” Mark said. “How come you didn’t call us last night?”
“I knew you were busy with Misha,” Patrick said, “and that your family was going out to dinner in the evening. Plus, I knew I’d see you guys this morning.”
“You should have called,” Matthew said. “We really did want to know the score.”
“Yeah,” Mark said, “it’s called voice mail. Plus, there’s this thing called texting that works, too.”
Patrick blushed. He wanted to call the twins but was afraid that if he called they’d think he was bragging. He was quickly learning, however, that the twins wouldn’t think that at all. Mark and Matthew simply wanted to be his friends and they wanted him to be their friend and that was all they cared about.
“That means we’re still tied for first,” Matthew said.
“Your teams both have three games left, correct?” Brian asked.
“Yeah,” Mark answered.
“What are you doing at home today?” Matthew asked.
“I have the day off so I can work on Saturday to help with a problem at work.”
“You’ll miss the Wombat’s game,” Mark said.
“I play Sunday again,” Patrick said, “so he can watch.”
“You have three chances left to lose,” Matthew said with a cheerful grin.
“So do you,” Patrick grinned impishly.
“Let’s go outside and be ready for the bus. It should be here any minute,” Mark said.
The boys gathered up their books and started out of the front door. “You know, boys, the Lake Monsters really do have three chances left to lose,” Brian teased, repeating what Patrick said.
“In your wet dreams, Mr. G,” Matthew shouted as the twins and Patrick ran howling out of the door. Brian shook his head, not quite as shocked as he was the first time. The boys were going to have to come up with a new line, he thought.
“It was really a fun weekend,” Mark said, as the boys took their seats on the bus.
“Yeah,” Matthew agreed. “We won our soccer games, we got our projects started, and we had some special fun.”
Patrick gave Matthew a look of surprise. “You mean you two and Misha…?” He left what he thought had happened unsaid, but the twins knew exactly what he meant. “Wow, cool.”
When Will boarded the bus, the attention turned to him.
“Hey, Will,” Matthew said in greeting, “I hear the Kickers kicked your ass.”
“Matthew, watch your potty mouth,” Mrs. Deaver yelled back.
“All I said was ass,” Matthew said.
“Yeah, and bus drivers all need one to sit on so they can drive their bus,” Mark pointed out.
“Which you won’t have to look at when you’re searching for alternative transportation to school every day,” Mrs. Deaver retorted, only half joking.
Will sat next to Patrick and said, “I’m glad I didn’t make that bet. We really sucked yesterday. Three of our best players were home sick.”
“What do you mean you didn’t make the bet?” Mark said. “You said you’d do what me and Matthew did if you lost.”
“I didn’t make any bet,” Will said, looking a bit perplexed.
“Yes, you did. I heard you,” Matthew said. “You heard him, too, didn’t you, Patrick?”
“Whip it out,” Patrick said, copying one more thing he’d heard his Uncle Roy say.
“No, way. I said I wasn’t going to make the bet because…um…I whipped it out on the bus before and I promised I was never going to do it again.”
“We don’t have soccer practice after school,” Mark pointed out.
“Yeah, so when you get on the bus be prepared like we were.” Matthew leaned over the seat and grinned, looking at Patrick as he said, “That way you can whip it out.”
The three boys loved watching Will fidget as he tried to remember what he had actually agreed to. Even Jeremiah’s exaggerated politeness when he boarded the bus didn’t darken their good moods.
The day was the usual, hectic, busy day at the Puget Academy. The boys in Mr. Jackson’s class received two bits of news during the morning announcements.
Mr. Jackson started by saying he had some really good news. “First, while costumes and make-up will not be allowed in school on Halloween (quite a few sets of eyes looked over at Ellis), there will be a Halloween party after school in the cafeteria.”
“I thought there was going to be a dance,” Mark said.
“There is, but that’s for sixth grade up. It will be at the Fuller school.” The Annie Fuller School was the girls’ grades school a couple of miles up the road from the Academy; it taught grades 1-8.
“That’s not fair,” Matthew protested.
“Why, did you plan on dancing the afternoon away?” Mr. Jackson asked.
“No, I planned on seeing lots of girls, who all seem to be missing from here,” Matthew answered amidst a chorus of giggles.
“The fifth grade girls from Fuller have been invited here; there just won’t be any dancing.”
“Then what are we going to do with them?” Will asked.
Mr. Jackson was quickly thankful that he was dealing with fifth graders and not seventh and eighth graders. He could hear their answer in his mind just as soon as Will’s question had been asked.
“You mean you don’t know?” Mark asked to loud nervous titters. That had been the exact answer Mr. Jackson had been thinking of.
“Girls are lame,” Randy the geek stated.
“Totally. Who needs them?” Ellis asked.
Mr. Jackson could tell that not everybody understood Mark’s question, unlike eighth graders, who would probably have asked the question in unison.
The other piece of news had to do with the student council. “Each team will be meeting with their eighth grade guide and Mr. Vargas during one of their lunches over the next month or so to learn what student council does and learn how to run for an office. As you know from orientation, you will be allowed to be voting members of the council starting in March.”
Five hands shot up at once: Mark, Matthew, and Neville, along with Will and Chase from the Fantastic Five. Mr. Jackson called on Neville since Will and Chase were a pair of alpha males and the twins, the ultimate alpha boys in the class, had had their say. Neville, on the other hand, was more laid back in his understated British manner.
“Mr. Jackson, why is it that we have to wait until January to be on the council and still cannot vote until March?” Neville asked. Mr. Jackson was hoping that by calling on Neville he would be avoiding that question.
“The reason is so that you can all get used to being students here at the Puget Academy first, and then slowly learn about how the system works.”
“It’s unfair,” Mark said without being called on. “The other grades get to vote for our stuff instead of us being able to do our own votes.”
“Yeah, like them voting for us having a lame party with a bunch of girls,” Ethan said. Ethan was a quiet boy on the X-Brains who rarely spoke up.
“Boys, let’s wait your turns to speak,” Mr. Jackson admonished.
The disagreement went on a while longer until Mr. Jackson decided everybody had had his say and no new ground was being covered. He brought the discussion to a close, satisfying nobody. He did let them know if they wanted to be part of changing what they disagreed with, as they rose up through the grades at the Academy, then they should plan on getting involved in student government from the start, vote or no vote.
When lunch came, Will sat with Patrick and the twins. “Guys, did I really bet that I’d ride the bus with my dick out?” he asked with a quiver of trepidation.
“You mean you don’t remember?” Patrick asked.
“If I remembered, I wouldn’t ask. I don’t remember ever doing it.”
“Just cover it up and it’s all good,” Mark said.
“Yeah, and you don’t have to even try jerking off. That wasn’t part of the bet,” Mark said.
“It wasn’t?” Patrick asked with a straight face.
“No—way—I—said—that,” Will said with exaggerated emphasis. “I’d remember that, because I would NEVER do that on the bus.”
“Which means you’d do it someplace else?” Mark asked. Will blushed a deep, deep red.
“We’ll make you a deal,” Mark said.
“What?” Will was certain the three were yanking his chain, but he wasn’t completely positive.
“If you let us watch you jerk off, you can keep your dick in your pants on the bus today,” Mark said.
“You mean, I have to show you, but I don’t have to do it on the bus?”
“Something like that. Does everybody think that sounds like a good deal?” Matthew and Mark nodded.
“When do I have to do it?”
“We’ll give you until the end of the year,” Patrick said, enjoying his role as the near equal of the twins.
“Sounds like a plan to me,” Mark said.
“Yeah, and that’s end of this year, not when school ends,” Matthew added.
“I’ll think about it.”
“You got until you get on the bus to make up your mind,” Matthew said.
The result was, when Will got on the bus, he sat next to Patrick as usual. As the bus pulled away from the school, he took off his jacket and placed it on his lap. He reached under the jacket and undid his pants and started pulling down the zipper as slowly and quietly as he could; the zipper sounded like rolling thunder to Will.
“Hey, Will,” Patrick whispered.
“What?” Will’s voice seemed higher pitched than usual.
“You can zip up.”
“What do you mean?” He turned back and looked at the twins who started rolling on their seat with laughter. “You guys are dead. All of you are totally dead.” Will pulled his zipper back up and refastened the top button.
“You really didn’t remember?” Patrick asked.
“Nope.” But as Will spent time after lunch thinking about what he was going to do he became sure he hadn’t made the bet. The only way he could see to get out of paying off a bet he hadn’t made and save face was to call the bluff of his friends. If they really were his friends, they weren’t going to let him go all the way. He was relieved when they stopped him, even if they were having a good laugh at his expense. He could put the three of them on his friends’ list, right up there with Chase and another boy in his neighborhood as his best friends.
On Tuesday night, Michelle and Megan came through as promised. The “scientific experiment” ended up taking place in Megan’s room. The girls were wearing flannel nightgowns while Mark and Matthew came into the room dressed in boxers and t-shirts. The boys agreed that, if this was about sex, they’d be wearing only tight briefs to show off their boners to the girls. But since it was about science, they decided to dress up.
Mark partnered up with Megan and Matthew with Michelle. The girls let the boys set the tone for the kisses. Those kisses started out as simple hard kisses on the lips and went from there to the boys invading the girls’ mouths with their tongues. Their sisters were soon moving tongues the other way and the kisses took on a bit more passion than any of the four had bargained for.
Without asking for her permission, Mark’s left hand found its way to Megan’s right breast, kneading it through her flannel nightgown. When he realized what he was doing, he expected his arm to be knocked away. Instead, Megan’s hand found itself inside of Mark’s boxers, wrapped around his thin, boy erection.
Mark looked over at his brother and Michelle and saw him unbuttoning his sister’s top, exposing a breast. His kiss moved from her lips to her breast just as her hand snaked its way into his boxers.
Mark felt himself close to orgasm. “Squeeze me tighter,” he whispered, which ended up being a mistake.
“Huh?” Megan said, coming out of her trance. She quickly pulled her hand out of Mark’s boxers. Michelle moaned loudly as Matthew sucked her exposed breast, his own hand moving up her leg, pushing up the bottom of her nighty, as he tried to find her pussy. Suddenly, his arm was slapped by Michelle and he yanked it out of forbidden territory.
“You boys are just gross,” Megan said. “I knew you’d be gross. All you think about is sex. Some experiment.”
“Whatever,” Matthew said. “You were letting us do it, so there.” He looked at his brother, whose boner was sticking out of the pee hole of his boxers. “Come on, bro, let’s go.”
As the boys headed for the door, Michelle yelled out, “You still have to do what you promised.”
“Yeah, we will,” Mark said. “Bitches,” he muttered as he closed the door to their own room.
Sexual needs were fulfilled by both sets of twins. The boys came quickly as they got naked and got into a sixty-nine on Matthew’s bed. The girls’ orgasm was the result of mutual masturbation, their own fingers entering the regions that had been denied the boys.
“So, who wins?” Mark asked Matthew in the shower the next morning.
“Our sisters were okay until they got all bitchy,” Matthew said. “It’s not like we were going to do sex or anything.”
“Yeah, it was all about science.”
“I gotta say that kissing the goalie is better than a tie game or kissing your sister.”
Mark gave Matthew a long, deep kiss before turning off the shower. “It’s almost as good as kissing your brother,” he said as they stepped out.
“You’re gross”, Matthew told him.
“Gee, thanks, ‘Michelle.’”
The Posse started making good progress on their projects. In the almost three weeks since they had elected Patrick their leader and made the plans for their dioramas, they also moved well into their individual reports. They discovered the project to be much more interesting when they quit bickering about it and actually started putting their best efforts into it.
Halloween was on a Wednesday, which would also be the day of the after school dance and party, or just plain party, depending on the grade. The teachers agreed to go light on the homework. The party used to be held on the Friday before Halloween, but three years ago the faculty had arbitrarily decided that tweens had outgrown trick-or-treating so why not hold the affair on Halloween? The students didn’t agree, but they had been told it was a school policy decision and they had no say in it.
“We all are gonna have to change this,” Matthew said as the Posse and the Fantastic Five squeezed into one of the larger lunch tables on Halloween day. “Having the party on Halloween is just wrong.”
“That means we need to get elected,” Chase said.
“And even if we do get elected, we still don’t have a vote,” Patrick said.
“If we do nothing, nothing will happen,” Misha said matter-of-factly. Nobody could disagree.
Everybody noticed that Ellis had painted his fingernails black. They wondered when Mr. Jackson was going to call him on it, but nothing was ever said by him or any other teacher. The significance of the party for the boys centered on the girls they would meet and the effect they would have as the boys started to reflect on their sexuality.
The party was set up in the old gym, which was part of the original “castle”. It started with the boys and the girls maintaining a generous amount of spacing between them. For the boys some of their reluctance to break the ice was because of the low opinion many preadolescent boys had of the females of the species, some of it was because of innate shyness, but most of it was simply inexperience in dealing with girls.
“We’re supposed to be having some games or something,” Mark said as he, Matthew, Misha, and Patrick wandered over to the food table to inspect the offerings.
“The sandwiches look lame,” Matthew said. “They should be cooking up hamburgers or something.”
“Those sandwiches look like they’re healthy instead of tasty,” Patrick offered.
“You got that right, Wombat,” Matthew replied.
“This is why we should have had student council from the start,” Patrick said. “We should have been the ones planning this, not the adults.”
“They think we are too young to know anything,” Misha said, thinking of how this was the way he was often treated at the orphanage.
“Before we leave this school, we’re gonna make some big changes,” Mark said, unaware that almost every fifth grade class before him had said the same things, and none had succeeded in making much of a dent. Usually, by the time they hit sixth and seventh grades, the plight of the fifth graders didn’t interest them nearly as much.
From a distance, Madison looked over the boys with her friends Carla, Naomi, and Paige. “See those twins over by the food?” she asked her friends. They all nodded yes. “They are so fine. I want to meet them.” She headed off to the food table, her friends following her. Ten-year-old girls were much more into boys than ten-year-old boys were into girls.
When the four girls arrived at the sandwich table, they became tongue-tied. The boys did not fail to note their arrival, however. Before anyone could become embarrassed, Mr. Nash got everybody’s attention and said it was time to have a game so the boys could get to know the girls and visa versa. Everyone groaned, but the game ended up actually being fun and each student managed to meet at least two students of the opposite sex.
After the game ended, the food table was opened up for eating. Even with the introductions, the boys and girls gravitated to their own sides of the gym, with some exceptions. One of those exceptions was Jeremiah, who made sure to walk past the twins and the Posse and Fabulous Five members, showing off his friend, Allison.
“Me and Allison were friends in fourth grade at my old school,” Jeremiah didn’t tire of saying. He all but said that Allison was his girlfriend. Very few of the boys were impressed. The twins were irked because Jeremiah was once again being so sweet and nice. To them, the nicer Jeremiah became the more annoying he was.
Jeremiah eventually gravitated to his friend Tony. The Posse members noted that Ellis, who had been talking to Neville, wandered over to where Alden was standing with some students from Mr. Nash’s class. Neville came over to where the other four Posse members had congregated.
“Are you and Ellis friends?” Patrick asked.
“Not really. He just seems to like me a lot.”
“Maybe you can be his girlfriend,” a voice said. They turned to see Chase, from the Fantastic Five.
“Maybe you could be nicer to him,” Neville said. Neville couldn’t figure out why he was being nice to Ellis. But then, he was getting used to Patrick, which made it easier for him to tolerate Ellis.
“Me and Mattie are going to talk to those girls over there,” Mark said. “They came to see us before we played that lame game.” Those girls were not among the girls they had been introduced to.
“Don’t call me Mattie, Markie.”
“Come with us, Wombat,” Matthew said. “I think one of the girls likes you.”
“The rest of you can come, too,” Patrick said. “They can meet the whole Posse.”
The five boys took their food over to where the four girls were sitting. “Oh, look,” Madison said. “I think they’re all coming over to see us. Both of the twins are coming.”
“And so is that cute little boy,” Paige said, referring to Patrick.
“Hey,” Mark said, displaying uncanny glibness as they arrived where the girls were sitting.
“Hi,” Madison said.
“I’m Mark and that’s my brother Matthew. And then we got Neville in the glasses, and Patrick and Misha.”
"Are you two twins?" Madison asked Mark, unable to think of what else to ask.
"Are we?” Mark asked his brother.
"No, just wombmates.” That sent the twins into howls of laughter. The girls didn't seem too impressed at first, but eventually the joke broke though the tween girl seriousness and they began to laugh as well, the proverbial ice having been proverbially broken.
“Misha is a cute name,” Naomi said, causing him to blush.
"My real name is Mikhail, Misha is nickname," poor Misha stammered nervously. Although his grip on English was excellent, that excellence deserted him when nervousness set in.
The chatter from that point on was dominated by Mark, Matthew, Madison, and Paige. The rest of them sat in their chairs and ate, with the boys feeling uncomfortable around the girls. As they finished eating, Carla became interested in Neville and his English accent, while Naomi started chatting with Misha once she found out where he was from. She asked him about living in Russia, but didn’t receive a lot of feedback.
“I need to throw my plates away,” Patrick said. He was feeling constricted around the girls and was ready to take off looking for Will or some of his other classmates. Paige watched him walk away, thinking about how cute he was and how short he was and how vulnerable he looked and how he must really need a girlfriend.
The time for the party to end arrived, to the relief of many. Madison and her friends were sorry to see it finish. Madison had exchanged phone numbers and email addresses with Mark and Matthew. She was not yet allowed to be on Facebook. Other than the twins, the Posse boys were among those relieved to see the party end.
This would not be the last time the two schools would have a function together. Madison and her friends were already eager for the Valentine’s Day party and they knew exactly who they were going to set their sights on.
The weekend after Halloween was big for some of the soccer players. It was the year-end tournament for the Northwest Youth Leagues. The Lake Monsters and the Kickers both finished undefeated with only the tie between them marring their records.
“We better end up playing each other,” Matthew said on the bus ride home from school on Friday.
“We could,” Patrick said, “but it’s hard to tell.” He’d seen the bracket for the tournament and knew there are many permutations based on what teams won and what teams lost during the two-day tournament.
“Want to make a bet on our game if we play?” Mark asked.
“Don’t do it,” Will said.
“Are you asking me, or me and Will both?” Patrick asked. Will’s Red Devils had also qualified for the tournament.
“Just ask Patrick,” Will said. “I learned my lesson already, and I didn’t even say I was going to bet.”
“Yeah, but we didn’t make you go all the way,” Matthew said.
“It was close. If you guys start making bets, I’m going to want witnesses that I never said anything.”
“What’s the bet going to be?” Patrick asked.
Matthew and Mark literally put their heads together, talking just above a whisper. Patrick strained to hear what they were saying, but could only catch a word or two. What he did see was sinister grins and could hear giggles that started breaking out into laughter.
“We’ve got it,” Mark said. “How about the loser has to go down the stairs from the school to the tracks? Then he drops his pants and moons a passenger train.”
“Or they drop THEIR pants,” Will said as he looked directly at the twins.
“No chance of that happening,” Matthew said. “We plan on kicking the Kickers all the way to Oregon.”
“But, we’re not allowed to go down those stairs,” Patrick said. “We could get in serious trouble if we do it during school.”
“That’s why we do it after school,” Mark said.
“Plus, it is impossible to get in trouble if you don’t get caught,” Matthew added.
“It’s gonna be totally fun,” Mark said.
“An adventure.” The twins loved adventures, getting involved in them with the idea of never getting caught.
“Can I think about it?” Patrick asked. Patrick had a bigger problem with going down the stairway on the side of the hill than he did mooning a train. The naughtiness of dropping his pants, or watching the twins drop theirs, appealed to his growing sense of naughtiness, even at age nine.
“We both play at nine tomorrow,” Mark answered. The tournament was in a sports complex that had four soccer fields laid out. “You need to tell us after our games are over. Me and Matthew will do it if you do it.”
“Don’t do it,” Will said one more time.
Patrick ignored him, at least for the moment. “I’ll tell you tomorrow.”
When Patrick got home he and the twins ran up to his room. Patrick took off his uniform and hung it in the closet. Every time he changed with them watching, it gave him a thrill. He was certain they liked seeing him strip down to his underpants and socks. Sometimes it even made him hard when he did his almost daily strip show.
“You can tell us now,” Mark said. “Will can’t listen and say stuff.”
“I told you, I have to think about it.” Patrick pulled on a pair of sweats.
“Okay, that’s cool,” Matthew said.
“And if you tell us now, it’s still cool,” Mark said.
“Yeah, we won’t even give you a bad time like we did Will,” Matthew giggled, which got all three of them into a fit of giggles.
Kristy arrived a half-hour later, picking up the twins. Brian came home just afterwards with Uncle Ted not far behind him. Uncle Ted had news for the family at dinner. It wasn’t surprising news and it wasn’t the first time he’d had news of that nature.
“I will be moving out next weekend,” he said.
“Is it Andre?” Brian asked.
“We’re going to move in together.”
Uncle Ted moved out often. Sometimes it was to live with a new boyfriend, sometimes it was to be alone, and sometimes it was because his job had him working in a different town for awhile.
“How old is he again?”
“Twenty-two.” Ted was fifty-two.
“Twenty-two going on twelve, knowing you.”
“You have nothing to say. You and I share similar tastes.”
Patrick knew what they were talking about. He knew that his Uncle Ted perved on him just like his Uncle Roy did. There were differences, however. Other than lingering hugs and chaste kisses, Ted was never sexual with him. Also, Patrick found himself drawn to Roy, and still savored the weekend he spent learning about sex from his teen uncle. He had no desire at all to do the same thing with Ted, and his older uncle respected that. The irony was that he loved Roy because Roy took him to bed and did sexy things with him, and he loved Ted because he didn’t do those things.
“I’ll miss you, Uncle Ted,” Patrick said.
“I’ll miss you too, young Master Wombat.”
“Are you coming to the soccer tournament tomorrow?”
“I wouldn’t miss it.”
“You just want to be around a hundred boys wearing shorts,” Brian said with a grin.
“I can’t deny that,” Ted replied.
“Oh, you men and your sex,” Maxine said. “You never seem to think of anything else.” She looked over at Patrick. “You don’t plan to be like that do you?”
“Oh, no, Grannana, I don’t plan to ever think of sex,” Patrick said as he crossed his fingers. He blushed when his reply brought a roar of laughter from all three adults at the table.
After dinner, Patrick called his Uncle Roy for some advice. He found out his uncle was in the school locker room getting ready for his football game. Patrick told him about the twins’ proposal and asked what he should do.
“That sounds like fun,” Roy said. “Of course, you guys might not play each other and if you do you might beat them. Or it could be a tie like the first time you played.”
“If it ends in a tie we have a shoot-off. Somebody has to win in a tournament game,” Patrick explained patiently.
“Here’s what I would do, kiddo. First I’d whack my pud to get me in the right mood to decide. If you take the bet, and I bet you will since you are a wild and crazy Wombat, tell them the loser gets to pick the time to pay it off.”
“Okay. Thanks Uncle Roy.”
“Now, go beat your meat and good luck tomorrow.”
“I hope you win today.”
When Roy hung up the phone, his teammate Lou asked him who he’d been talking to.
“The nine-year-old? About whacking his pud? Damn, you are one dirty old uncle,” Lou laughed.
Patrick went out to the living room where his dad and uncle were sitting. “Don’t bother me for awhile,” he said. “I have to do something important.” His uncle had told him to jerk off now and not later, which was exactly what he planned to do.
“Don’t worry,” Brian said. “You know we always knock first.”
“Don’t even come and knock.”
“Whatever. Tell us when you’re free to be sociable again.”
Patrick turned and headed back to his bedroom.
“You don’t think he’s going to…,” Ted asked.
“Ted, he’s nine.”
“And your point is?”
“He’s been in love with his penis since he came out of the womb.”
“He could learn to be more subtle, though,” Ted said with a laugh.
“I think his Uncle Roy removed all hints of subtlety from his dictionary.”
While Brian and Ted were chatting, Patrick was in his room busily removing his clothes. He looked down at his three inch plus erection. Roy had told him he had a big one for his age, which pleased the preteen immensely.
He grabbed the jar of Vaseline that Roy had given him and plopped himself on his bed. He rubbed the Vaseline on his cocklet just as Roy had shown him and started to work on himself. He knew his father wouldn’t bother him, but he didn’t trust his Uncle Ted. While Ted never touched him inappropriately, he made no secret of how much he loved seeing his nephew naked or playing with himself in the living room.
Uncle Roy had told him to decide on the bet while he was masturbating and he was doing just that. Losing the bet would be scary, but the twins had fulfilled their bet and then some. He wanted to do what the twins would do, or even what his Uncle Roy would do.
As the thumb and forefinger of his left hand rubbed his shaft and played with his little pink head, he used his right hand to rub his balls like Roy had showed him. He then dipped the middle finger of his left hand into the jar of lube and spread his legs, sticking it into his smooth crack and rubbing it up and down. He had no idea that touching his butt hole could feel so good until Roy had showed him. In fact, Roy had stuck his finger into his hole, but Patrick wasn’t about to do that. While it made him shiver with excitement to watch and feel it, it seemed way too gross to actually do it. Tickling his grommet with his finger was an entirely different affair, however.
As he masturbated, Patrick thought about the sexy things he did with Roy, and about him and the twins jerking off in his bedroom. He couldn’t wait to grow older so he could be sexy like the twins, or become a teenager so he could shoot white stuff out like Roy. He could sense the feelings hitting his groin and making his junk feel good, not to mention the rest of his body. His torso shook, his belly quivered, his balls drew in, his penis started to spasm and he was hit with the sensation he had already grown to love. He knew as he came down from his dry orgasm that he would accept the bet from the twins.
If Patrick was an adolescent, he’d also be thinking of jerking off again after he went to bed for the evening. However, he was a prepubescent boy and his orgasm would satisfy him for a few days.
The Kickers won their Saturday morning game 5-1 while the Lake Monsters had a 7-0 win. Both teams were playing lower seeded teams. After the game Patrick found Mark and Matthew and told them he was accepting the bet.
“You’re sure?” Mark asked.
“Yeah, no backing out after you lose,” Matthew said.
“We might win,” Patrick said.
“In your wet dreams,” Mark told him.
“I want to add one thing to the bet before we make it final,” Patrick told them. “The loser gets to pick when he does it.”
“Fair enough, as long as it’s before school ends in the summer, Mark said. The three agreed and shook on the bet. One thing that hadn’t occurred to the boys was that Daylight Savings Time would end that night. The combination darkness setting in earlier and the deteriorating weather conditions of late fall would end up delaying the payoff until spring.
The Lake Monsters and the Kickers went deep into the league tournament. The Red Devils were out in three games, getting knocked out of the tournament by the Lake Monsters. The Kickers and the Lake Monsters met in the semi-finals on Sunday. That meant the bet would be in force.
Carter was the goal keeper for the first half and Patrick took over the duties in the second half. The Lake Monsters had a 2-1 lead at the half on two goals by Matthew. The Kickers scored early in the second half to tie the score, but Mark drilled a goal off of a great feed by Matthew to score what turned out to be the winning goal.
Misha had come out to watch the game. The complex wasn’t far from where he lived and he and his father bicycled to watch the big matchup. Patrick had let Misha know the night before that the two teams would be playing each other.
While the twins rested between games, Patrick and Misha walked over to visit with them. “You guys played great,” Matthew said. “My dad said it was too bad we both couldn’t win.”
“I was way out of position on that goal. That was a great pass by Mark.” Patrick made sure to give credit to the twins, even though he really had been out of position.
“Yeah, but it needed a perfect kick to get it by you. You’re a pretty good keeper,” Matthew said.
“It was a really good game,” Misha said. “I will be trying out for one of your teams next year.”
“That would totally rock,” Matthew said. Patrick was already planning to recruit Misha to be on the Kickers. That would let him see even more of his friend.
“When are you going to pay off the bet?” Mark asked.
“We said whenever I am ready,” Patrick reminded him.
“When will you be ready?” Matthew asked.
“When I say so.”
“Fair enough.” The twins had a lot of respect for Patrick because he never backed down to them.
“What is your bet?” Misha asked.
Patrick told him.
“I would not be ready for a long time,” Misha giggled. “But when Patrick is ready, I wish to be…to be…to be a witness, I think is the word.”
“But you could get in trouble for going down the stairs.”
“Then we must not get caught,” Misha said, sounding like the twins.
“You’re on,” Patrick said.
“You can even help him if you want,” Mark said. “He might need help getting his pants off.”
“I did not make this bet. I will watch only.”
A couple of hours later the Lake Monsters defeated the Cosmos 4-2. The Cosmos were the champions of the other league division and had the first seed even though the Kickers had a better record and had defeated them. The Lake Monsters had the second seed even though they had ended up tied with the Kickers in their division because they had the best margin of victory during the season, and that was by only four points. The Lake Monsters were now the league champions, with the Kickers finishing third. While Patrick was disappointed his team didn’t win the championship, he congratulated the twins for their play and their team’s overall success.
On Monday morning, most of the Posse arrived at school in a rowdy mood. Patrick and the twins were still excited about soccer. The day was even more exciting for Misha—it was his eleventh birthday. He was going to have a small party at his house on Saturday. He’d handed out invitations the week before to the entire Posse as well as Will, Chase, Randy, and Ellis. Randy was a total geek and Ellis was plain weird, but Misha liked them both and invited them. He also invited three boys from his soccer team, and, of course, Ben would be there as well.
Misha wished that Ben could spend the night, but Ben hadn’t done so since school started. Misha suspected that Ben no longer wanted to get involved in sex play. He was willing to tell his friend they didn’t need to do any sex, but he was afraid to bring up the subject. He didn’t know his other friends well enough to ask any of them to spend the night.
Everybody he invited said they could be at the party, making Misha almost giddy with excitement. This was a party that would include boys he was starting to know really well, including Patrick, a boy he wanted to know even better. Maybe they’d be all spending the night soon.
When Dean Blowers, the Headmaster, read the morning announcements over the PA, one in particular struck Misha. He knew he’d heard it before, but this time, now that school soccer was over, it gained more meaning. Dean Blowers announced that the chess club would be meeting on Wednesday after school in the library. Misha made a mental note to ask his parents if he could attend the meeting and ride the activity bus home. He already knew what their answer would be, but he also knew that he had to ask.
Of course Ryan and Lois said yes. They were happy to see how excited their son was, both about his birthday and about the chess club. Misha had blossomed in ways that seemed almost explosive since he started school at Puget Academy, a state of being that was not lost on his parents and to those who knew Misha, from Olga, to his psychologist, to Ben’s parents, as well as for many others.
Misha’s presence in the library on Wednesday afternoon was quickly noted by the eleven boys who attended that day’s chess club meeting. “Hey,” Cole, an eighth grader announced, “we have a newbie.”
“Well, so we do,” said Arno, another eighth grader. “And he sure isn’t a seventh grader or an eighth grader, which must make him a sixth grader.”
Misha felt self-conscious from being the sudden center of attention. “I’m in fifth,” he said with unaccustomed shyness. While Misha was a quiet boy, he was not shy. Shy boys did not survive well in the orphanage.
“Fifth!” Vern, a sixth grader, said. “That means somebody is here in a lower grade than me.”
“Do you even know how to play?” Cole asked. “We have beginner’s meetings at lunch if you want to learn.”
Before Misha could answer, a gray-haired man came dashing in. Misha recognized him as an upper grade teacher. “Sorry to be late. Dean Willis seemed to believe he had something important to tell me which, as usual, was not the case.” He saw Misha sitting at a table and smiled. “Well, we have a new player do we? I’m Mr. Nichols, the chess club advisor and reputed math teacher.”
“I am Misha.”
“Misha, eh? Then you must be the Russian boy in fifth grade.”
“Yes, I am.”
“Russian?” Cole said. “I hear Russians are good chess players.”
“I will not need your beginner’s class,” Misha said, trying not to sound like he was full of himself.
“We have some very good chess players in the club,” Mr. Nichols said. “You will find the competition here very tough.”
“I am happy to learn more about chess.”
“Well, then, let’s get the boards out. Having Misha here gives us an even number in attendance, so I will be observing instead of playing today.”
Cole pulled a board and a box of chess pieces out of his backpack. Misha took a beautiful box out of his backpack that was small enough to be easily portable, yet big enough to fit full-sized pieces. Misha didn’t bring his chessboard with him, however, thinking the boards would be provided, which was the case. Chess sets and boards were removed from a closet by Arno and Yung-Li, a seventh grader. Soon six boards were set up and ready for play.
Mr. Nichols pulled twelve slips of note paper off of a desk and wrote a name on each one of them, dropping them into Cole’s box. He then pulled the slips out two at a time, each pair being a game matchup.
His fifth draw was Cole, and the sixth was Misha. “It seems this pairing was inevitable. Please be kind to our youngest member Mr. Harding,” Mr. Nichols said. “Cole is our best chess player and does quite well in our interscholastic competitions,” he told Misha. Misha felt a surge of excitement. He had not known there would be matches against other schools. This was going to be even more fun than he had thought.
“Mr. Nichols, I know you like to live by your draws,” Cole said, “but I really think it would be better for Misha to play somebody like Vern or Lucas or Beno.” Vern, Lucas, and Beno, while decent players, were the three weakest players in the chess club, at least among those present.
“Misha, you may take that option,” Mr. Nichols said. “We want you to feel welcome and comfortable here on your first day and Cole is quite good. But, he was not quite as good when he was a fifth grader as I recall.”
“I beat you once,” Cole smirked.
“The stars were obviously out of alignment.”
“I will play Cole,” Misha said. “I am not afraid.”
“Whoa, the boy has some gonads,” Arno said. “You tell him, Misha.”
While the boys sometimes played using a chess clock because of their time restrictions, they preferred playing a regular game. If the game ran too long, they’d write the positions and finish the game during a lunch period or even after school on a later day. There would be no chess clock on these games.
In the case of Misha and Cole, a chess clock wasn’t really needed. The game was over in less than fifteen minutes as Misha worked Cole into an untenable position and checkmated him.
“Damn, that was lucky,” Cole said. “He snuck right in there and got me.” He looked up at the clock. “We have time to start another one so I can get my revenge. Are you game?”
Misha nodded and the game was quickly under way. Mr. Nichols and the other ten boys stopped what they were doing to watch the rematch. This one took longer as Misha picked Cole apart and checkmated him again in twenty minutes.
“How the ‘F’ did he do that?” Cole asked.
“Methinks he did it by being better than you, Cole,” Arno said. “He not only has steel ones, he’s got brains, too.”
Cole looked at Misha, stood up, and shook the young boy’s hand. “Welcome to the chess club, Misha. It looks like we might have some things to learn from you.” Misha did everything he could do to swallow a shit-eating grin.
“Misha totally ruled today,” Vern said.
“And we all know that the tsars ruled Russia,” Mr. Nichols said.
“We do?” Arno asked.
“So that would make him the Puget Academy Tsar of Chess,” Vern said.
Cole looked at him with a smile as he issued his challenge: “At least for today.” That was how an intense, but friendly, rivalry got its start.
Misha’s birthday party was a big success. Plenty to eat, fun games, along with the general silliness and goofiness that only a gaggle of preteen boys can produce. Misha felt much more at ease with his friends than he had at his first birthday party when he had Ben plan everything for him. This time the party was all Misha’s.
The invitations had stated “no presents”, but Misha did receive a lot of funny cards, which he planned to keep. The best part of the party, however, was Patrick. He found himself finding a lot of reasons to hang with his fellow Posse teammate during the party.
“I think Misha and Patrick are getting to be good friends,” Matthew told Mark as the party wound down.
“They’re both pretty cool guys,” Mark said.
“How long before they have their first overnight together?”
“By the time winter break comes, maybe earlier.”
“I think it will be during spring break or by the time school ends.”
“Wanna bet?” Mark asked.
“I kinda hope you win,” Matthew said. “Misha needs lots of friends.”
“Well, we did say we would have him over to our house.”
“We’ve had him there for the project.”
Mark nodded. “Yep, but not to spend the night as a friend. He needs practice before he spends a night with Patrick.”
“Practice? What kind of practice? Your friend comes over, you eat tons of food, play lots of games, and then go to sleep. What’s to practice?”
“All the extra,” Mark said with a leer.
“You’re nasty.” That had the twins roaring with laughter.
“What are you laughing about?” Neville asked.
“About guys spending the night together,” Matthew said.
“What is funny about that?”
“It’s just something you gotta learn.”
By four o’clock every boy had left except for Patrick. He and Misha sat on the couch in the family room chatting about the things boys liked to chat about. They talked about soccer and baseball, about TV shows, about games, about Misha’s wins over the school chess champion, about their project, and they even mentioned Patrick’s boner at Wild Waves. Anyone listening in would have pegged them as older than eleven and nine. Eventually they ended up in Misha’s bedroom.
“You have a cool bedroom,” Patrick said. “It’s huge.”
Misha thought about the size of his room often. He would lie in his queen size bed and wonder how many of the little beds at the orphanage would fit in his room. He wondered what sleeping with Nikki would be like in a big bed instead of the ones they squeezed into.
“I like my bedroom very much,” Misha said. He kept it neat and orderly, but it had a look to it that said a boy lived there. There were a variety of pictures and posters on the walls.
“Did you have your own room at the orphanage or did you have, like, a roommate?”
“I had many roommates. We had many boys in a room.”
“I bet that sucked.”
“I had many good friends, but some enemies, too.”
“I can’t believe you would ever have any enemies.” Patrick told his new friend.
Patrick looked at the table in Misha’s room. It had an inlayed chess board with beautiful wooden chess pieces set up for a game. It was an expensive chess set which he had received for his birthday. It was not the set he had taken to school.
“You love chess,” Patrick stated matter-of-factly.
“Very much. Do you play chess?”
“I know how, but I’m not very good.”
“Maybe some time I will teach you how to be better.”
“That would be fun.”
The boys found out they both knew how to play cribbage. They’d each been taught by their fathers. They’d gotten two games in when Misha’s mother knocked on the door. Misha invited her in.
“Patrick, your father called and asked when you were coming home. I told him after you were going to have dinner with us.”
“You mean I can stay for dinner?” Patrick asked, excitedly.
“If you want to, of course. Misha seems to like you a lot and we’re happy to see him get new friends.”
Because of all of the food that was consumed at the party, dinner was a light one. Afterwards, Patrick and Misha played another game and then the time came for Patrick’s father to pick him up.
Patrick and Misha had been playing at the game table, having set the chess pieces aside. They both felt a sense of sadness that their time together was over.
“I had lots of fun,” Patrick said. “Happy birthday, again.”
Misha started to say something, but got hit with a case of nerves. He took a deep breath and decided to take the gamble. “Do you wish to be best friends with me?” he asked.
Patrick flashed his huge, trademark smile. “Yes. That would be awesome.” His reply allowed Misha to relax again, and he traded grins with Patrick.
Patrick had removed his shoes earlier. As he put them back on, Misha admired his new best friend’s face and body. He admired his short, but not buzzed, hair cut. He admired the bubble butt pushing out his jeans. He admired the bright eyes and the full mouth. He looked at all of the things he’d enjoyed checking out at the orphanage, and Patrick was better in every way. To top it off, the vision of Patrick and his erection at Wild Waves took over a spot in his head.
Patrick stood up and grinned again. Misha took his second gamble and stepped over to the younger boy. He gave him a brief kiss on his lips and stepped away, hoping he hadn’t overstepped any boundaries.
As soon as Misha’s lips touched his lips, Patrick felt his knees wobble and his breath come up short. The two-second kiss was sweet and innocent, with a touch of love attached to it. The preteens were too young to place any significance to it, but as their friendship and relationship deepened, that moment in Misha’s bedroom after they’d agreed to be best friends was a moment that would be etched in their minds
As Misha stepped back, Patrick thought he was in heaven, and as Misha looked at the smile break out on Patrick’s shocked face, he knew he was in heaven. There would be a lot to learn, a lot of barriers to be overcome, a lot of experience still needed, but that innocent kiss started Patrick and Misha on a path they never imagined that evening in Misha’s bedroom.
Next: Releasing the Genie