An Overheard Conversation - 4. AOC 4

It quickly became apparent that Wayne was thinking similarly. “My butt is twitching, Ethan. He's going to be looking to find a way to strike back.”

“Literally you mean?”

He looked at me and grinned. “Yeah, he's looking forward to the next time he's got my ass bent over the table in his office.”

“Then we'd better make sure we keep our noses clean. Not give him any opportunity.”

“You've never been paddled, have you Ethan?”

“Nope, never experienced that delight. It was banned in California some years ago and my father didn't believe in spanking me when I did something wrong. I either lost my allowance, got extra chores or was confined to my room if it was really bad.”

Wayne laughed, “I can't imagine you ever doing anything really bad, Ethan.”

“Can't say I ever did anything really bad, but a few things like staying out late, going places I wasn't supposed to, breaking windows with a baseball. Just general growing up things.”

“Shame you didn't stay in California.”

“Don't say that Wayne. Had we not moved here I wouldn't have met you.”

“Yeah, that was my good fortune.”

He stopped walking and I automatically stopped too, but a step or so ahead of him. I turned back to see why he'd stopped and he took a couple of steps to close the gap between us and stand just in front of me. He placed both of his hands on my shoulders. “I really mean that, Ethan. I've only known you for a few weeks, but I feel my life has changed for the better. I know how lucky I am as I can't work out what you see in me.”

“This isn't the place for that discussion, Wayne. Save it until we're in my bedroom. You are coming home with me tonight, aren't you? We've still got work to do on our project.”

A look appeared on his face; one which I didn't recall seeing before but his eyes spoke of devilment. “Which project is that, Ethan?”

Wayne had made a joke! That definitely hadn't happened in the time I'd known him – not that he'd had much to cause him to make a joke. “You know damn well which project I mean, Wayne Parnell.” He still had his hands on my shoulders, but knowing we were early and alone in the corridor, I took a chance and used both my hands to tweak his nipples through his t-shirt. “What's to say though we couldn't work on both?”

“I know which I'll enjoy more,” was his retort.

“Me too. I'm really enjoying doing our Code Talkers project.”

He mouthed a very rude two word phrase to me as he removed his hands from my shoulders. “Time to get to Homeroom. We don't wanna be late.”

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Naturally our haircuts drew plenty of attention from the other kids. As usual though none of them spoke to either of us about them, although we could see several pointed conversations taking place. Crew cuts were not unusual, but I doubt anyone had ever seen hair cropped as close as ours was.

Perhaps I should have expected it, but while Mr Reynolds was taking the roll call, after I had answered when he called my name, he made a comment, “Looks as if your barber got a bit carried away on Saturday, Ethan.”

I couldn't resist responding, “No sir, he did exactly what I asked him to do.”

That earned me a glare and I remembered what Wayne had said about making sure we stayed out of any possible trouble. He just harrumphed before carrying on with the roll. When he got to Wayne and Wayne had answered, he couldn't resist another dig. “Looks like you visited the same shearing shed as Berenson, Parnell?” That drew a titter of amusement from the room. Wayne was wise enough not to take the bait and simply replied, “Yes sir, we did.” That brought forth another harrumph.

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Because we'd left for school early I hadn't asked mom to make us sandwiches, which she now usually did for both of us when Wayne stayed overnight. Thus come lunch break he was waiting outside the cafeteria for me. As we were going through the line to get our food he asked me if anyone had given me any trouble during the morning. I told him I hadn't had any problems before asking him the same question. He shrugged in response, “Only from the usual dickheads who seem to consider I chickened out and should have continued to have my butt busted. They think they're better than anyone else because they're on the football team. A lot of them would have been bawling if they'd been paddled every day.”

“Wayne, there's always loudmouths and big talkers around. Just ignore them, they're trying to provoke you.”

“Yeah, I know I shouldn't expect anything else. They've always been the same and won't change now.”

We took our trays and went and sat down at our usual table. I looked up in surprise a couple of minutes later when two other boys appeared, one on each side of our table.

“Mind if we join you?” asked the fair haired one who I knew to be Jerry Gilmour because he was in our homeroom.

I glanced at Wayne who I saw gave a hardly noticeable shrug of his shoulders.

“You really want to be associated with us?” I asked.

“Yeah, we do, if you'll have us,” responded the other one, who had dark brown hair in a crew cut. “I'm Willy Muller, by the way and he's...” “Jerry Gilmour,” I cut in. “I know as he's in our homeroom.”

“Right,” said Willy. “Can we sit down then?”

“Yep, always glad of some company. Don't get much round here.” I said.

The pair put their trays down on the table, pulled out a couple of chairs and sat down. Willy next to me and Jerry next to Wayne.

“We just wanted to say we admire your balls, getting your hair cut like that.” Jerry said. “I had mine long at the start of the semester, but a couple of days of Jackson paddling my butt and I went and got it cut. Dunno how you,” he continued looking at Wayne, “could take it as long as you did. Then you didn't really give in did you? Sorta gave him the finger getting it cut like that. And as you both had it cut the same he couldn't try picking on you for getting it cut that short – brilliant.”

We should have spoken to you before Wayne, not leave it to the new kid.” This was Willy talking now. “But everyone considers us a couple of nerds so we get enough grief for that. We talked about it but decided not to show our heads, cowards that we are.”

“Well, thanks for joining us.” I said. “It'll be nice to have a couple of friends, won't it Wayne?” Wayne sort of grunted until I kicked him under the table. “Yeah, thanks. You should know though I was going to give in today anyway, my butt had had enough, but Ethan came up with this idea so it didn't feel like I'd totally lost.”

“I think you'll probably gain some more friends,” said Jerry. “I know several girls who quite fancy one or both of you.”

That was news to me as I hadn't paid much attention to the girls in school. A glance at Wayne showed he was as surprised as me by the news. However, it did prove to be true and by the end of the week we had found it necessary to rearrange some tables at lunch to accommodate the five or six girls as well as another couple of boys who joined us.

Meanwhile Jerry had said something that I needed to raise with Wayne, which I did as soon as we left school for the ride home.

“Why didn't you tell me Jackson had made everyone get their hair cut and that you were the only one holding out? I thought he was just picking on you.”

“Does it make any difference Ethan? I wasn't trying to look a hero, or whatever they called them people who got tortured for what they believed. We Comanches like to have our hair long. I know I ain't a full Comanche and my hair wasn't that long, but I didn't want to get it cut, just 'cos he said I should.”

“It doesn't make any real difference I guess. Talking of Comanche though, when do I get to meet your grandpaw and grandma?”

He almost fell off his bike as he turned his head to look at me. “You really want to meet them?”

“Course I do. Never met a full blown Native American before. Just as long as you promise me I won't get scalped.”

He laughed. “I've gotta work tomorrow night, but I'll talk to them and see if we can go over on Wednesday after school. I'll make him promise not to scalp you as you're my paleface friend.”

“I'm not that pale!” I protested.

“True, and when he inspects you and sees it's all over...”

Now it was my turn to nearly fall off my bike. “What!” I exclaimed.

“Oh, Ethan. You should've seen your face when I said that.” He stopped his bike and started laughing out loud.

“Yeah, well... I ain't used to you making jokes.” I stopped my bike alongside him and joined with his laughter. Was the real Wayne emerging now. I was growing to like him more and more as his personality had begun to show.

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After we arrived home, had our snacks and a talk with my mom as usual, we went up to my room.

“Homework or project?” I asked.

“Perhaps leave the project until after you've met grandpaw?”

“Seems sensible. Homework it is then.”

“You still got that cream up here. My butt still feels bruised you know.”

He said that with a grin and I knew he was giving me an invitation. I went and locked the door and then into the bathroom to fetch a towel that I laid on the bed. By that time he'd taken off his shorts and his boxers. Today his t-shirt was a lot shorter than the one he'd been wearing on Friday so I could see his dick was already firm.

“Don't you want to take your shorts off Ethan. Make sure they don't get any cream on them.” That was said with a grin that spoke more than words. It certainly made me go hard, even though I wasn't totally sure we were thinking the same thing. I decided to play along and pushed down both my shorts and my boxer briefs before also removing my polo shirt. “Can't risk getting cream on that either.” I told him. I got a chuckle in response.

The bruises on his butt were still evident, but nowhere near as vivid as they had been on Friday. I guessed the cream had done some good, so I was happy to apply more today. As on Friday it was evident from the little noises he was making that he was enjoying what I was doing and after a while I noticed he was moving slightly backwards and forwards on the towel.

“Do you want to get off me, Ethan?” I'd been knelt straddling his legs and now I shifted to one side allowing him to roll over. Today the head of his dick was fully exposed and glistening with pre-cum.

I reached forward, touched it, and it jerked in response.

“It won't break, Ethan.”

“But it's different to mine. Won't it hurt?”

“No. Just gently move the foreskin down and up to start. There's plenty of lube there.”

And so I had my first experience of jerking someone off. While we were in his secret place on Saturday and in my bed on Sunday we had cuddled, stroked and kissed and both of us had come, but this was a new step in our relationship.

I did go gently and slowly, marvelling at the silky softness of this part of Wayne I was holding. Even so it wasn't very long before he tensed up and several large spurts shot onto his stomach and chest. Luckily he had pulled up his t-shirt when he rolled over.

“Wow!” he said after he'd recovered his breath. “That was better than I imagined it could be. Way better than doing it myself. Swap places, your turn now.”

“Are you sure? You don't have to.”

“Two new experiences is better than one, Ethan.”

“I don't really produce pre-cum like you.” I said as I lay back on the bed.

“Doesn't matter,” he replied as he straddled me before doing what I usually did and applying saliva to his fingers. Somehow, although it was the same it felt different having Wayne's hand stroking up and down my dick. Although I tried to prolong the enjoyment it wasn't more than a few minutes before I also came.

When I recovered I suggested to Wayne that we should have a shower to clean up. I also sprayed some air freshener around the room just in case mom happened to come in later.

With that boundary in our relationship crossed we were tempted to do it again in the shower, but decided that doing our homework should come first. We also did no more than kiss and cuddle when we went to bed. As was evident from what we'd both said earlier this was very much new territory for us and I think that without saying anything, we'd both decided to progress our relationship slowly.

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After school on Wednesday we headed off on our bikes to Wayne's grandparents. He'd told me several times not to expect anything grand, that where they lived was nothing like my home and that they were simple and poor people. I could tell he was bothered how I'd react and I was determined not to show any sign of superiority at whatever I found. I'd already seen the outside of where Wayne lived and that had looked very rundown, so I wasn't expecting much in all honesty.

I was a little surprised when we entered a trailer park. Some of the trailers looked quite rundown, but we stopped at one that was well cared for and even with a little garden around it in which I could see some vegetables growing. We dismounted and Wayne walked over to the door which was opened before he could knock by a little white haired elderly lady. She stood back so we could come in and I saw Wayne's grandpaw was sitting in an old chair. He was also elderly, but his hair was still black. Wayne introduced me, saying I was Ethan, the boy he had told them about. I'd asked Wayne earlier how I should address them and he'd calling them Mr or Mrs Parnell would suffice as those were the names they were known by now.

After the introductions he took me through to what was evidently his room. It was tiny with just a small bed and a couple of chests. He had Native American pictures on the walls and what I could tell was a hand made throw or comforter on the bed. The room was neat and tidy- as indeed was all of the trailer I'd seen.

“I often stay here Ethan, it's better than with my mother.”

He'd opened the door and although this was not why we'd come here, I decided to take the plunge.

“Do you want to tell me why, and what happened to your father? You don't have to, but I'd like to know.”

There was a long pause and then over the next ten minutes or so, it all came out. Not in a straight line and I had to ask questions here and there to fully understand. But when he'd finished I certainly understood a lot more.

Things had been alright until about three years ago. Wayne's father had a job in a factory. It didn't pay well, but with what his mother earned as a waitress they were doing alright. One night though his father had got into a fight in town. He'd told Wayne that he didn't start it but had been set upon by a couple of men. He'd won the fight but unluckily for him one of the men he'd fought was a good friend of the sheriff. Wayne's father had been arrested and charged with assault. When it came to trial there were several witnesses who stood up in court and swore that he had attacked the two men without any provocation. Inevitably, as these were all upstanding white citizens, he was found guilty and was now serving a six year prison sentence.

That was the start of the downhill track because it wasn't long after his father went to jail that his mother started bringing men home to the apartment. Some stayed for just a night, some for a couple of weeks, a few for several months. The walls in their apartment were thin and Wayne could hear what was happening in the other bedroom. Some of the men treated him alright, but most of them preferred not to see him around. As a result he had come to spend more and more time with his grandparents. He more or less used the apartment as a place to keep some of his clothes and to do his washing. He slept there occasionally, but preferred to spend the nights with his grandparents.

We'd sat on his bed while he told me all this. During it I'd put my arm round his shoulder; now when he finished he put his head into my chest and started crying. Suddenly he pulled away and looked at me.

“Now you know I'm a loser from a family of losers. You can go. Forget me before I drag you down.”

I took his chin in my hand and drew his head towards me in order to kiss him. It wasn't a tongue kiss, but it was long and meaningful. “Wayne, I'm not going and you aren't going to drag me down. I hope I can help you lift yourself up – at least I'm gonna try my best to do that. You're special to me.”

“Do you really mean that, Ethan? I have nothing to offer you.”

“Only yourself, and that is more than enough.”

We both had a little cry until we heard a knock on the door and his grandma said some words I didn't understand.

“Comanche”, said Wayne. “I have learned a little. She has something for us to eat and drink and reminded me that we came to talk to grandpaw.”

We went out and joined them at a small table. We were offered cans of soda and some Mexican style tortillas. “She was afraid you would not like traditional Comanche food,” Wayne whispered to me as we sat down. We ate and afterwards she cleared the table before going outside. “She is going to water the vegetables. She does not like to hear talk of war.”

We then learned about grandpaw's experiences in the war. Although he had been in the marines, he hadn't served with any of the code talkers but knew quite a lot about them and their activities. It turned out that he'd been wounded in action and showed us his Purple Star and other medals. He'd also somehow managed to keep his uniform jacket and when he took that from out of a box, he also laid on the table a bayonet which he told us came from a Japanese soldier he'd killed. He became upset at that point and excusing himself walked outside to join his wife.

I took the opportunity to ask Wayne if he thought his grandpaw would let us borrow these things for our presentation. Wayne duly asked the question when grandpaw returned and we were both pleased when he agreed. We couldn't really carry the box as we were on our bikes, so I said I'd get my father to drive us back at the weekend.

We said goodbye and cycled back to my house. We had a talk with my parents and dad agreed to drive us over on Saturday. After that we went upstairs to have a shower and go to bed. We were now happily sleeping naked together, but it seemed to have been a long day so we simply spooned together and went to sleep.

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I'd now started going to the cafeteria every lunchtime even if it was just to eat mom's sandwiches, which she was now happily making for both of us. The next day Willy Muller was late joining us and when he did sit down Ethan spotted the pained expression that crossed his face as his butt came into contact with the hard plastic chair.

“Reckon I know why you're late Willy.”

Willy grimaced. “Yeah, Jackson sure knows how to swing a paddle. I only got two licks, but the second one was low and almost lifted me off me feet.”

“What did you do?” I asked, hopefully managing to sound sympathetic.

“Dozed off during English. What else do you expect when it's stupid romantic poetry! Anyway, Walters decided to send me to Jackson with a note. The prick could've given me a detention, but no, he decided to make an example of me.”

“Tough luck, Willy. Ethan's got some cream that's good for bruises.” Wayne offered.

I wasn't sure I wanted others to know that as they might put two and two together and jump to a conclusion.

“Yeah? I might take him up on that, 'specially as I think you two owe me.”

“How come?” I asked.

“When I got to his office the door was slightly open and I could hear voices, so I decided not to knock but to wait until whoever it was came out. No point in rushing to get your butt busted is there? So I'm standing there and I recognise Jackson's voice and suddenly it's raised and he says, 'I'm not amused by having two fourteen year old kids stick their fingers up in the air like that at me. I'm relying on you Bill, and the rest of the staff. Keep a close eye, a very close eye on those two. Anything they do that is out of line, even a little, send them to me. I can't wait to have their butts up in the air in front of me. I'll teach them respect', and then I heard another voice say, 'Wouldn't mind being here to see that.' I saw the handle of the door move, so stepped back and Reynolds came out.”

“Shite!” exclaimed Wayne. “Guess I should've expected him to react like that. Ethan, I think your days of coming to school in shorts are over. We both need to start wearing jeans.”

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