I lie sprawled out on the bed, as my mind wandered over that fantastic February night and I recalled every wonderful second of our birthday celebration. We shared our love and experienced some of the most intimate moments we’d had so far. I wasn’t sure if we could ever match that night, but any time together with David was special.
David’s father didn’t seem to be in a very good mood when we ran into him the next afternoon, but I shook it off as a bad day at the office. David said later that his father started making little comments about finding friends closer to home and suggested that we came from two different worlds and would never be long-term friends. After he first said this, we were worried he had somehow found out about our sexual encounters, but David concluded that if he had, his dad would have most likely have ordered him to stop seeing me, so we dismissed the idea. Even though I didn’t tell David this, I felt his father’s comments were more about me coming from a poor, working-class family and he was afraid I was going to take advantage of his son.
Even though we were somewhat concerned by those comments, David and I were still planning to spend the week of spring break together. My mom, unlike David’s father, was happy that I had such a special friend and had agreed to the arrangement. I just wondered if she would have been so happy about our friendship if she learned how special a friend he was. She also persuaded Grandpa to grudgingly agree to do my chores that week, so I was glad she had asked him, instead of me. I wasn’t convinced he would have been so willing to do it at my request.
All signs of winter were slowly starting to fade away and the warm spring weather was steadily becoming the norm. Every morning, I could hear the birds singing their welcome to the spring renewal of life and I could smell of the blossoming of new plant life.
We were in the midst of attending our last week of classes before the weeklong recess when David revealed some bad news. I was supposed to be going home with him after our last class ended on Friday, because his dad was going to be attending a corporate business meeting in Tampa, Florida, but it was rescheduled, due to the CEO’s hospitalization. Since that had been announced, his dad decided to take him on a special outing this weekend instead and they wouldn’t be back until late Sunday. Since he wasn’t sure how late that would be, David told me it would probably be best if I didn’t come over to his house until around noon on Monday, so he’d be able to sleep in. Reluctantly I agreed, while praying nothing else would spoil the rest of our time together.
Once I’d calmed down from receiving this disappointing news, I began to focus on the time we’d be spending together instead. As I considered the different things we might do, I was hoping the poets and authors were right when they claimed that in the spring a young boy’s fancy turned to thoughts of love – and hopefully sex. If I was truly lucky, then David would already be infected with this bug and we’d have a wonderful time together. I knew this saying was at least partially correct, because it was definitely true in my case.
Once school ended on Friday, I wasn’t in a very good mood, although I should have been. I had the next nine days off from school and should be ecstatic, which I would have been if I’d been going home with David as we’d planned. Unfortunately, I was going home alone to do my chores as usual. It wasn’t right and it wasn’t fair.
I spent most of the weekend either wandering aimlessly around the farm or alone in my room. My disposition began to steadily improve as the weekend drew to a close, so I was back to normal by the time I went to bed on Sunday night. I even set my alarm for the next morning, which I didn’t usually do when I was on vacation, because I liked to enjoy the extra sleep. This was a special situation though and I needed to make sure I had plenty of time to clean up and get ready, because I wanted to get to his house as soon as I dared. I guess you might also say I was a hopeless romantic, since I wanted to be certain we had time to do everything I had in mind.
After having breakfast and packing up the items I was going to take with me, I still had a couple of hours to kill before I took off. Shortly after 11:00, I grabbed my backpack, hopped on my bike and took off to spend five days alone with my soulmate.
When I arrived at David’s house, I didn’t see him around. I rang the doorbell and one of the domestics let me in, because she knew who I was from my previous visits. I bounded up the stairs, quietly opened his door and saw him sleeping peacefully on his bed. I ran toward his prone form, leaped into the air and landed beside him on the bed. David jolted upward when I made contact with the mattress, since he obviously wasn’t prepared for my entrance.
“Wake up, sleepyhead,” I teased. “Time to rise and shine.”
“You scared the shit out of me, you asshole,” David barked. “Fine way to treat the one you love. You almost gave me a heart attack.”
“Sorry, but I just couldn’t resist the temptation,” I playfully apologized.
“Apology accepted, although I’m not sure why,” David replied. “Let me get dressed and we’ll go get something to eat.”
“I prefer you without clothes,” I stated, only partially joking.
“I bet you do, but the help doesn’t get much work done when I run around naked,” he quipped.
“So, you’ve done it before?” I pressed, with a smirk.
“No, you asshole,” he snapped. “I just concluded they would be hopelessly distracted once they saw this perfect male specimen.”
“Think again, buddy, and that’s the second time in a few minutes that you’ve called me an asshole,” I observed with a pout. “Are you hinting that you want me to leave or saying you don’t love me any more?”
“Neither. I was just was lashing out at you because of the extremely rude way I was awakened,” he explained. “Come on, I’ve got to eat to build up enough strength to fool around with you.”
“In that case, one multi-course breakfast coming up,” I offered, imitating a waiter in a restaurant. “Please follow me to your table, sir.”
I sat down and ate with him, even though I had already eaten at home, so for me this was like having lunch. Either that or my boy metabolism was on overdrive in anticipation of the day’s menu of events. When we finished eating, we returned to David’s room, shut the door and then David made his first request.
“Billy, I’m really horny and want you to ride my dick like you were busting a bronco, you know like we saw in the video the last time you were here,” David suggested. “What do you think?”
“I don’t have to think. I’m ready, willing and also hope to prove to you that I’m able,” I quipped.
We hurriedly began to undress each other and eagerly fumbled with buttons, belts and zippers in the process, as we prepared to fulfill David’s request. We started out with a little foreplay, which consisted of all of the usual activities, such as kissing, licking and groping, and then rolled over, reached into his nightstand and extracted the bottle of baby oil I gave him for Christmas. I then used it to lube up his granite pole, while he started to oil up my love tunnel, as he worked various combinations of fingers into my chute. When I finally informed him I was ready, he laid back and pushed his penis into an upright position, since it was normally closer to his abdomen.
Knowing what I had to do, I squatted over his waist and lowered my puckered hole until it came into contact with the head of his cock. Slowly, I dropped onto it and let my body swallow up the head, and then I slid down the rest of his shaft, until my testicles were resting in top part of his patch of pubic hair. I took another few seconds to make certain my body had an opportunity to adjust to the intruder before I began.
I also glanced up and noticed that David was smiling blissfully in anticipation of what was to come, so I started to ride my boy in the same fashion that a rodeo star would bounce around on a bronco or a bull. I was energetically launching my butt skyward and then allowing it to crash back onto his lap, and the incredible sensations his penis caused as it constantly stroked against my prostate was driving me totally delirious. We were in the throes of this passion when the door to his bedroom opened and we realized, far too late, that we had forgotten to lock the door.
“David. Have you seen my….” but the voice trailed off.
It was David’s father and he froze when he saw what we were doing.
“You fucking little faggot!” he screamed. “What are you doing to my son?”
I jumped off of David and landed on the far side of his bed, away from his dad, and was trying to apologize to him as I reached for my clothes. I found my pants and shirt quickly, but I knew my sneakers were on the other side of the bed. There was no way I was going to worry about my briefs or socks, so if I could just get to my shoes I’d have enough for modesty sake and could get out of there.
When I looked up again, I saw David’s father charging at me, as he bolted around the foot of the bed. I leapt into the air and bounded over the still immobile form of my lover and landed on the floor on the other side of the bed. I hurriedly grabbed my sneakers, flew out the door, bounded down the back stairs and bolted out of the house. I ran off the deck and onto the lawn, as I headed toward the tree house. When I turned around, there was no one following me, so I decided David’s father must have either given up or was talking to David. Damn, was I glad that I wasn’t in my lover’s place!
I dressed quickly, slipped on my shoes and tied them. I was just finishing up when I saw David’s father striding out onto the deck. He looked around, saw me under the tree and came off the deck on the same side that I had. As he was moving in my direction, I raced to the other side of the yard, past the pool, over the stone patio and out the gate by the garage. I ran out front, jumped on my bike and set off for home. When I was at the end of the block, I heard a car start up behind me, so I looked back quickly and saw David’s father backing his vehicle into the street. Shit, he wasn’t going to give up.
I started cutting down side streets, turning left here and right there, in an effort to lose him in a maze of streets. I had already turned several times, as I approached the less desirable side of town and got closer to the road I’d take to get to my grandfather’s house. Thank God David’s father didn’t know exactly where I lived. I was making my final turn before I reached the home stretch when I heard the wailing of a siren and saw the flashing lights of a police car approaching rapidly from behind. Damn! He must have called the police from his cell phone while he was chasing after me.
I quickly turned and started pedaling up the road that led home, but the cop car suddenly pulled up even with me. The officer inside the vehicle was telling me through his open window to give up.
“Pull it over, son,” he announced. “You can’t outrun a car, so you might as well save your strength.”
Although I knew it probably wasn’t the right thing to do, I kept going, because there was no way I was about to give up and let him arrest me.
“Listen, kid. Stop right now before you force me to take more serious action,” he warned. “You don’t stand a chance of getting away, so just quit trying.”
Unfortunately I didn’t heed his advice and began to pedal harder. I glance over and saw the cop shaking his head, so I knew he couldn’t understand what I was doing.
“Have it your way then,” he yelled, as he sped up in his vehicle, swerved it directly in front of my bike and slammed on the brake.
I tried to avoid crashing into his fender and rapidly turned to the right, but the front tire of my bike grazed the bumper of the police car and the collision knocked me into the ditch. When I looked up, the police officer was rushing toward me and quickly reached my position. Once he was standing over me, he held out his hand to help me up. I didn’t take it and jumped up instead, as I tried to run away. He must have expected something like that, because he quickly grabbed a hold of my shirt to prevent me from getting away. When that happened, I instinctively swiveled toward him, which he obviously hadn’t expected, and was able to knock his hand free from my shirt and I took off running again.
I heard him utter a few expletives as I raced up the bank and I was just about at the top of the little knoll when something entangled my legs and caused me to come crashing to the ground. I quickly discovered the officer had tackled me, which seemed to figure, considering the way my luck had been running. It turned out that he was a former standout high school football player.
Once I was down, he slid his body forward and put his weight on the back on my legs. He then grabbed my left arm, twisted it behind my back and then I felt the cold steel of the handcuffs slide around my wrist. With my left arm secure, he reached for my right arm and performed the same operation. Now, there wasn’t a whole hell of a lot I could do to escape.
Since I was now at a severe disadvantage, he pulled me into a standing position and dragged me down the embankment toward his cruiser. Just before he pushed me into the back seat, he took a second to address me.
“You should have listened to me, because you just made matters worse. Unfortunately for you, this means you’re in a whole heap of shit now, son,” he announced, in a masterful way of stating the obvious.
As the officer was loading my bike into the trunk of his vehicle, I saw Mr. Michaels pull up beside us. He glared at me through the window, pointed toward the bike and said something to the officer. Then, he drove away, but not before flashing me a smug, self-satisfied look.
The cop then got back into the car, and the next thing I knew I was standing in front of the desk sergeant, who was filling out some forms. I was then placed in a holding cell separate from the other prisoners, probably due to my age, and told to chill out. I sat there alone, with my body trembling, as I wondered what was going to happen to me next.
I was suddenly experiencing this massive sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach, which gradually overwhelmed me, because it indicated my life, at least as I knew it, was now over and I would probably never see David again. I was wracked with feelings of guilt, consumed by fear and growing more and more depressed as the seconds passed. About an hour later, I heard the door to my cell open and in walked my mother, grandfather and some guy in a suit.
I couldn’t look my mother or grandfather in the eye, but they introduced the other man as my attorney, Mr. Gardner. I couldn’t believe this, me in need of a lawyer. Who’d have thought I would have ended up in a mess like this? Mr. Gardner then started to explain the situation and let us know what would happen next.
“The boy’s a juvenile, so this will be handled in family court,” he announced. “We will have to go before the judge and he will order an investigation. A few days later, you will be contacted by various organizations and some people will come to your house to speak with you. They will ask a lot of questions and then submit a report to the judge. We will then go back to court and the judge will make a ruling. Even though the situation may look bleak at the moment, you’re in the best possible position by having this dealt with in family court and not in criminal court.”
“What’s the boy charged with?” My grandfather wanted to know.
“From what I’ve seen, he’s being charged with petty larceny and resisting arrest,” Mr. Gardner told us.
“What’d you steal, Billy?” my grandfather asked, while looking me directly in the eye.
“Nothing, honest!” I exclaimed, since I had no idea what they were talking about.
“Mr. Gardner, what did they say the boy stole?” Gramps pressed.
“The report mentioned something about a bicycle,” he stated, “but I won’t know for sure until I get my copy of the complaint form.”
“I didn’t steal the bike,” I protested. “My friend David gave it to me to use.”
“Well if we can verify that, then we should be able to get rid of that charge,” he reasoned. “They’ll probably release Billy into your custody while we’re waiting to go to court, but he’ll probably end up here until he’s arraigned, which means he’ll probably be staying here overnight. The reason for this is that the police haven’t finished filing the charges yet, had the complaint forms signed or forwarded copies to my and the D.A.’s office. When they do, they’ll find a judge to handle the arraignment, but since it’s already late in the day and the court session is winding down, it probably won’t happen until tomorrow morning. Just hold in there, Billy, and I’ll see you prior to going to court. Mr. & Mrs. Maynard, if you’ll come with me, I have some things I need to go over with you and some paperwork that requires your signatures.”
“My name’s Ross,” Gramps corrected. “Maynard was the last name of my daughter’s worthless husband.”
“I apologize for the error,” Mr. Gardner offered. “Mrs. Maynard and Mr. Ross, will you please follow me?”
While they had been discussing those issues, I had been thinking about what the lawyer had told us. I felt a twinge of optimism when I remembered him saying he could probably get the theft charged dropped, once David confirmed he had given me the bike. Unfortunately, my heart sank again after I recalled him mentioning that I’d probably have to spend the night here.
At that moment, I heard the lawyer call out to my jailer and tell him they were ready to leave. I felt as if I was being abandoned, as I watched them walk out of the cell and exit the cellblock, because I really wished I was going home with them. Then, I heard the dull thud of the lock click securely into place, which indicated I was completely alone again.
After getting over the initial shock, I looked around and studied my surroundings. The cell must have been about a ten foot [3 m] square and had a stainless steel cot fastened to the wall on one side, with a thin mattress upon it. I must not have noticed it when someone, possibly one of the cops, had placed a blanket and a couple of sheets, all of which were neatly folded, along with a ratty, old pillow on the mattress. There was also a stainless steel sink and a stainless steel toilet, but without a toilet seat, as well as a stainless steel table with a stool, both of which were bolted into the cement floor. Yeah, this looked like it was going to be a whole lot of fun.
About an hour later, I heard the cellblock door being opened again and one of the guards came in carrying a metal tray of food and a carton of milk. It looked as if it must be dinnertime. As he passed it through the opening in the cell door, I noticed the tray contained some unknown meat, a few French fries and a scoop of corn. There was also a small piece of cake, which reminded me of the birthday cake that David and I had shared on our special night. This, of course, only helped to worsen my already depressed mood.
The guard came back a half hour later and collected the tray and spoon I had been given to eat with. He said lights out would be at nine and breakfast would be served at six. I haven’t gone to bed by nine since I was eight-years old and don’t remember ever getting up at six. I usually get to sleep until 6:45, because the school bus didn’t come until about 7:20.
Since there was nothing else to do, I walked over to the cot to lie down, got comfortable and then stared at the ceiling, while going over the events of the day in my head. My dream week with David, which I’d looked forward to with such expectation, had unexpectedly crashed and burned and now I was spending my vacation behind bars.
I must have drifted off to sleep while constantly replaying images of the nightmare that had only just begun, because the next thing I knew I could hear someone yelling it was time for me to get up.