We go to Alice’s where Joey explains our business of the day. The reason he was so high last night was the heroin he had scored in New York. It’s very hush-hush, as the local hypes are seriously into keeping a low profile. We sit there all morning and conduct business. It’s cool to be part of the crowd. Joey keeps calling me ‘dude.’ Seems that there are a lot of hypes in Stockbridge that summer. When I ask Joey what it’s like to score in New York, he says it’s like going to another planet, the Planet of the Zombies. He promises to take me next time, but I figure my folks will nix it. I’m wrong.
We get back to the house. Our folks are upset that we missed Sunday dinner.
We go upstairs so Joey can count his money and smoke a joint. Once I’m high, all I want to talk about is what we did last night.
“So, Joey, um, that wasn’t the first time for you?”
“You mean getting fucked?”
“Yeah, like it was the first time for me with a girl or a guy. That’s not how I expected it. I mean, with a guy. I guess I want to know, am I still a virgin?”
“Calm down. Yeah, if you haven’t fucked a girl, but you sure didn’t act like a virgin. So don’t sweat it.”
“ Well, neither did you act like the first time.”
“I do that all the time in New York, at least a few times, anyway.”
“Really? What’s it like to get fucked?”
“The thing,” he answers, “is not to get fucked up in the head about it and start acting like a queen.”
“What’s a queen?”
“Man, I forget you’re from the sticks. Like in the song: “shaved his legs, then he was a she. I say hey, babe, take a walk on the wild side.’”
“’and the colored girls go, doo, de doo, de doo, de doo, de de dooo,’” I sing with him.
Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, SONY ATV MUSIC PUB LLC
“When you go to the City you’ll see things you can’t imagine.”
“I don’t want to get fucked!”
“Well, you’re still a virgin, man.”
“It’s just more complicated than I thought. In Alaska, you fuck a chick and you’re experienced: ‘Are you experienced?’”
“I know you want to tell all your buddies you’ve done it. But it’ll be hard to explain last night in detail. You’re a natural, bro. When it’s time to do it with a chick, you’ll be great. So in reality you’re experienced. It’s just something you can’t brag about. – your first lesson in kissing and not telling.”
“You still haven’t told me what it was like for you.”
“When I get high like last night, it’s something I want to do. It feels so good. You just let go. I mean, you were the top. I just responded to it. Let me see your dick.”
He sees I have a hard-on from just talking about it. He reaches over and pulls down my jeans. It gets so hard, it starts to curl back against my stomach. As he fingers my balls, the scrotum tightens up, pulling the testicles up into my crotch. With his fingers, he starts to slowly rub the front of my hard-on. Clear liquid starts leaking out. I lean back on the couch as he squeezes my dick, stroking it up and down. I moan as he strokes harder and faster. In five seconds I know I’m about to blow. The tip expanded, opening wider. The first surge of hot liquid cum flies and hits me in the face. He laughs, bending the shaft forward as surge after surge gushes like a geyser. I can’t believe we did it again. This time I only last a minute.
Joey looks at me laughing, “You’ve got cum splat on your forehead and in your hair.”
He reaches up and smears the cum like hairspray, to keep my forelock spiked up.
“The unicorn has returns,” he jokes.
Looking in the mirror and laughing, “This is how we looked in Alaska when the cold would freeze our wet hair after swim team.”
I look at my dick which seems bigger than I’d ever seen it.
“I think my dick is swollen or something.”
“You’re still hard. It’s like you were too quick for your dick.”
“The second I think about cumming, it goes off.”
“You went off all right, all over my couch, your pants, and your hair – ‘Cumface.’ Here, put away your dick. We have things to do.”
“Yeah, places to go, people to see.”
“You catch on real quick, dick. We gotta see my military buddies. They’re not like your GI Joe types. They’re Viet Vets.”
Joey drives his VW Bug into the countryside near Stockbridge. We park up a dirt road with no houses, just abandoned fields and broken-down stone walls. We hike a recent path into the woods, until we reach a clearing where there is an abandoned shed.
“Welcome to the hooch of Frank and John,” announces Joey, as two guys with long beards and worn fatigues come out of the shed.
“Joey, man, you’re a sight for twisted eyes. We knew you’d come through,” says the taller guy.
“Hey man, it’s the first of the month. I know you got your checks. Where Uncle Sam pays, the dope man will play. I got you some of New York City’s finest Persian Brown. I’ll take the cash now, please.”
“And you’ll take it all, you draft-dodging faggot. But right now you’re holding; we’re flush and need a fix. Let’s see what you brought.”
Joey goes with them into the shed, while I scope out the ‘hooch.’ It’s an open shed used to store hay when the land was farmed. It looks 50 years old. There is a cooking fire in front and an old commode set up out back as a latrine. These guys aren’t guerrilla warfare experts. They are just camping out. From the trash that has accumulated, they’ve here awhile. About twenty minutes later, the three of them come stumbling out of the shed. Glancing strangely at me, they ask Joey who I am. They hadn’t even noticed me when we came up on their camp. Joey introduces me as in the military, which they seem to buy.
“Did you go to ‘Nam, man,” John asks.
“Joey’s putting you on. I’m fourteen, just a military brat.”
Frank thinks out loud, “He looks like that Kruikshank kid from California that got fragged by mistake.”
“No, man. That kid was blond. He looks older. I’ll bet he’s an MP, come to make us go to Reserve meetings.”
I play along, “Yeah, you guys got to follow me into town, hup, two, three, four.”
“How come you ain’t got no gun? MPs gotta have a gun. Frank, get this MP a gun. Joey one too. He’s a turncoat for bringing the MPs out here.”
Soon as said, it’s done. Frank brings out at least ten weapons. 45s, a M-16, a grenade launcher, boxes of ammo.
“Choose your weapon. You’ll never take us alive.”
They each grab two rifles and run into the woods. Joey and I look at each other and laugh. Grabbing guns we ran after them. Just as we start off, the assholes started shooting, kicking up dust by our feet.
“They’re fucking shooting real bullets at us,” I scream at Joey.
“No fear; they’ll never kill their dealer. They’re too self-centered to do that, and they’re really good shots.”
“What makes you think they know what they’re doing. They’ll shoot me, and you’ll still get them their dope.”
“Shut up and get behind some cover before they do hit us,” as more dust kicks up. “We’re ‘sposed to be chasing them.”
We make it behind a big tree as shots rip by. Joey has me take off my white tee-shirt, which he attaches to a branch and holds up. Instantly three or four shots tear through my shirt.
I freak out. “You dumb mother-fucking sons o’bitches. You’re going to hit us, you psycho, hyped-up Viet Vet losers.”
“Listen to the whiner, the little wimp. If you can’t take the heat, don’t come in the kitchen.”
“You slant-eyed mother-fucking gook. You’re gonna die,” they go on as if they’re still in Vietnam. I lose it, jumping out from behind the tree. “I’m only fourteen, you old bastards. Stop this shit.”
For a second, my jumping out makes them stop, then they let loose with their weapons again. I barely make it back behind the tree.
Joey looks strangely at me. “You shouldn’t call them old. They hate that.”
“What are we gonna do, Joey. They still think they’re fighting the War.”
“Calm down and think about it. It’s just like in the movies.”
“You’re as fucked up as they are.”
“What can we do? Just sit here hoping they snap out of it? Or, figure some way to get their weapons and stop this shit? I’m for action, and I got a plan. I know where they’ll eventually go. It’s a bunker they built to store all their weapons and ammo. You hold them down with gunfire, so I can sneak around and surprise them there. They’ll surrender their weapons. All you have to do is shoot in their direction so they don’t realize I’m gone. Watch to see if they move, then chase them over that hill behind them.”
“Don’t worry. I’ve got the grenade launcher. I’ll use it after you’ve loosened them up with these two M-16s. Just make sure you chase them when they move. Start shooting, so I can get outta here. If they attack you, I’ll come back and get them from behind. Don’t freeze up. I’m counting on you.”
I get the rifles and ammo. When Joey is ready, I move on my belly to the side of the covering tree and let off a burst of fire. Joey takes off in a roundabout way to the hill behind the vets. My shooting surprises them. No return fire comes for a minute, before they start again. Once they stop, I fire back. They are yelling to each other when Joey drops a grenade into the trees above them. Screaming, they started running away from me. I jump from behind the trees and fire off all the rounds in both rifles. I see dirt flying, but quite far from where Frank and John are running. Yelling for them to stop, I hope Joey will hear that they are heading toward him. Cresting the hill I see their goal. I stop to reload and cautiously move toward the bunker. The two dive inside Then I hear Joey yell for them to drop their weapons. Covering the entrance, I step out front just as John backs out.
“Oh, shit. Drop your gun asshole.”
He looks at me for the longest second, then raising his rifle, he takes solid aim at my head. Looking down that barrel, I can’t pull the trigger that will save me. His gun goes click; he’s out of ammo. Swinging my rifle, I hit him squarely above the ear, and he goes down. Joey pushes Frank out of the bunker, smiling as I stand glaring over John. Pushing Frank to the ground, he turns around and fired a grenade into the bunker. The entire cache of weapons and ammo go up in a deafening roar, knocking us backward and leaving a gaping hole where the bunker had been. Frank and John are too dazed to fight anymore. While I cover them, Joey retrieves a rope from the shed. He ties their arms and legs together like hogtied cows, then throws the remaining rope over a branch about ten feet off the ground.
“Help me pull them up.”
First John, then Frank are suspended from the branch, swinging about eight feet off the ground.
“Let’s go. This place stinks,” Joey said.
“You’re gonna just leave them like that?”
“Damn straight. They’re so fucked up they would kill and eat our bodies for dinner. You got a better idea?”
“We can lower them so when they swing back and forth, they eat dirt. As long as they don’t struggle, they’ll be on the ground. I heard you can strangle from being suspended in the air.”
“Okay, what a kind-hearted dude. It’s a plan, man.”
We sit under a tree awhile, laughing at their predicament. They won’t stop struggling and eat a lot of dirt. Joey finally motions to go.
“They’ll either figure out how to help each other out of this, or they’ll swing forever.”
All this time they say nothing, cursing and mumbling to themselves. Pretty pitiful.
Walking to the car, my legs begin to tremble. I sit down hard. Joey has to help me to the Bug.
“Hey, finally got the shakes, huh.”
“Man, how did that all go down? I mean, I’ve never seen anyone go off like that. Was it Vietnam flashbacks?”
“That plus the speedballs they shot up while you were outside. Normal freaks shoot the coke, then the heroin to bring them down. They shoot the dope, get wasted, then the coke, and they are off on that trip. Well,” he says, punching me in the arm, “we taught them a new meaning of dirt bags. You look pretty pale.”
I lean over and puke my guts out. I not even smoking pot. Joey keeps quiet, and then drives home. He puts an arm around me.
“You’re pretty cool, little dude. You saved our asses out there. No wonder they lost the War. Two stoned teenagers beat their butts. He slaps me five, real jive-like. I fall asleep with my head on his shoulder, until we get to the main road. A fire engine and cop car roar by, going where we’ve been.
“Guess we know where they’re going. I hope they don’t shake down the hooch. There’s needles and shit all over that place.”
They don’t bust them, at least as far as we find out. That night I sleep in Joey’s waterbed; no sex but it feels right. I’m not ready for more soldiering. I throw out my tee-shirt with the bullet holes.
Next day Joey has more deliveries to make. He tells me I’ll enjoy these people a lot more. We drive to Pittsfield where a college-type lives with his supposed girlfriend, Tyler and Linda. They live in his mother’s large old house on the good side of the mill town. When we arrive Tyler says Linda’s out feeding the slugs, so we go to see what’s up. The slugs are humongous. Linda is a dark-haired chick about twenty-five, who talks fast through an over-sized nose with a nasal accent. She explains about the slugs; they just eat fungus or slime. You need to keep track of them, or they’ll invade your neighbors’ gardens. It seems logical to me. I ask if she races her slugs; she laughs, “It’s snails that race in Alice in Wonderland.”
I say she’s Linda in Delusionland. Everyone laughs. The three go off to do their dope deal, leaving me with the slugs. They don’t make a mad rush for the neighbors.
Soon Linda comes out and asks me to follow her to a cottage in the back. She says it’s where she stays when Tyler’s mother is home. It’s pretty simple with a just bed. Weird psychology and Greek mythology books lie about.
She looks at me, “Joey said I should ‘do’ ya ‘cause ya neva been laid.”
“Don’t ya wanna ‘do’ me so yer not a virgin no more?”
“I kinda wanna decide when that will happen myself. I mean you’re pretty and everything, but really I just find you interesting and strange in a cool way.”
“You’re cool, too. Tyler don’t mind. He just wants ta please Joey; he’s the coolest dealer in the Berkshires.”
“If I pass, will it hurt your feelings?”
“Naw, but don’t tell Joey. Tyler wants to please Joey. We just wanna keep him happy. Let me give you some Zen massage I know. Maybe it’ll make you wanna do it.”
She takes my hand, cracking each knuckle, and pressing extra hard into the muscle by my thumb. Then she repeats it on my left hand. She says the pain and hurt cleanse my body of tension and bad diet salts, saying I seem really tense. Then she works on my arms, stretching out the biceps and triceps. From behind my back, she has me straighten up as she twists my head from side to side. Placing one hand on my forehead and the other at the base of my skull, she lifts my head away from my shoulders, turning it left and right. Then she lifts my skull straight up and holds it for thirty seconds. She removes my tee-shirt and starts on my back, rubbing beside my backbone with long strokes up and down. With each push toward my head I feel a tingling up my neck and into my scalp. With each push down my back, the tingling and warmth shoots into my buttocks and legs. Taking her thumbs she pushes into the upper flesh on both sides of my butt, hitting a nerve that caused me to twitch. She reaches around, unbuttons my jeans, pulling them down to expose my butt and thighs. For five minutes she rubs up the inside of my thighs, up both cheeks to that nerve spot, letting her thumbs casually scratch the fuzz around my butt hole as she massages past it. When she rolls me over, my dick flops onto my stomach. Ignoring the obvious, she rubs the lower half of my stomach, letting her fingers scratch the pubic hairs below the dick shaft. I let out a low moan each time she touches the shaft. When I reach to grab her, she shakes her head.
“No. Zen massage requires you to lie absolutely still.”
She moves from my stomach to my feet, strongly kneading the arches, then rubbing the tops of each leg as she sits on my ankles. She uses the tops of my feet to turn herself on. Again she says not to move as I start to be aroused by her rubbing cunt. My dick is as hard as it can get. My moans become louder. Lydia takes off her top. Her bra-less tits flop free. Leaning over me, she places my throbbing dick between her tits, squeezing it as each nipple rubs my stomach. More moaning from me. I can hear giggling outside the cottage door. I’m too into it to care that our performance has an audience. As the pre-cum started to ooze, she pushes her belly against the front of my dick. With her hand stroking the shaft, she proceeds to jerk me off. As I start to come, I feel the release of fluid start from deep below my belly. My back arches as my dick hardens even further, the slit widening to twice its normal size. As I moan the cum spurts onto her tits, over and over, until they drip with white, hot jism, pooling on my belly. As I slow and finally stop cumming, her hands dig into the pool of cum on my belly. She spreads it all over me, into the pubic hairs and onto my nipples. She digs her fingers into the butt nerve spots, making me tense every muscle from my back to my toes. More cum oozes out as I give a final moan.
Rolling off me, she whispers in my ear, “Some girl is going to be very happy when you’re really devirginized. Don’t tell the guys we didn’t go all the way. Tyler really needs to keep Joey happy.”
We walk out the door with the two of them sitting there, with conspiratorial/guilty looks on their faces. Actually, we all look that way.
In the VW, Joey expects a blow-by-blow recounting. I just tell him, “Hey, you’re the one who says never kiss and tell.”
“You’re learning from the master,” he laughs. “I guess I get the water-bed back for myself.”
“No way, man. Just ‘cause I’m not a fag don’t mean I don’t love ya. Dig?”