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    CarlHoliday
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

The Artists - 14. An Awakening

Where do you go when you don’t have any plans? There were lots of places to go, but most of them were too obvious and someone might come looking. No, he had to act out of character and go somewhere no one could expect him. It might make him uncomfortable, but that was the price he had to pay right now.

The gun was the surprise. He hadn’t expected to need one, but now he did because with a gun he could inflict serious injury, maybe even death. He was still working on the death part as he’d never been one who thought killing someone as the best solution to a problem. He didn’t want to kill her, just make her hurt as he was; make her feel his pain. That’s all he wanted. If it meant putting a few bullets in her, well, so what.

He didn’t particularly enjoy camping, though. It was necessary though. He had to stay out of the cities and suburbs where people were looking for him. He had no history of camping and in the past few days had learned quite a bit from the mistakes he was making, but that was what learning was all about. He was going to miss that, the learning. It was going to be a long time before he’d ever get back to college; maybe an eternity if things didn’t go as planned and he had to take drastic actions.

He looked at the gun again. How would he do it? It might come to that and he’d have to know so he could do it with a minimum amount of thought, just point and shoot. He turned the barrel toward his face and put it in his mouth. That was kind of uncomfortable and the way his hand was positioned he might end up not shooting straight and true. There was the distinct possibility that he’d go off to the side and miss his brain altogether.

That’s probably why a side shot would work best. Just above and forward of the ear. His hand was comfortable in that position and the bullet—hollow point for maximum stopping power, that’s what the sales clerk said—would blow quite a bit of his brain out the exit wound. He’d be dead before he crumpled to the floor.

It was only speculation he’d actually have to shoot himself. He’d definitely shoot her, aiming for the chest and abdomen. If he could get close to her, a head shot was preferred, but he didn’t expect that. He’d have to get in the room and hopefully walk up to her and shoot. No waiting! Go in, locate her with his eyes, walk up to her, and shoot. Any delay in any of the steps and he’d have to start shooting prematurely, or worse, take himself out rather than be captured.

 

 

“Good morning Sunshine,” Peter whispered in Casey’s ear. The boy stirred a little, mumbled something, and seemed to drop back into his dream.

“Uh, uh, come on Sunshine, open an eye,” Peter whispered.

The boy smiled and felt for Peter’s erection. An eye opened when his fingers found a flaccid cock.

“Don’t you want anything this morning?” Casey asked.

“Not from you,” Peter said with a smile. “I’ve got to go get the kitchen ready. Brent will be helping this morning.”

“But that’s my job,” Casey said with a pout.

“Not this morning, Sunshine,” Peter said and then leaned over and kissed the boy on the lips.

“It’s because of this, isn’t it?” Casey asked. He held up his bandaged left wrist. There had been no serious damage to any of the ligaments and tendons and the razor made such a clean cut that the wound didn’t require any sutures.

“You got it kid,” Peter said. “Go back to sleep and you can go with us later to pick up Six at the hospital.”

“Okay,” Casey said. He snuggled back into the cover and was soon asleep.

Peter looked at the boy as he dressed and fully realized a lot of the kid’s problems could be laid right on his doorstep. If anyone cared to check into it, they’d know all about the kid’s stupid infatuation with him. In a small way, he kind of felt sorry for Casey who just couldn’t admit he was gay.

Yet, in many ways, Casey was still an innocent in all of this. He seemed totally agog at the restaurant with all the eye candy prancing around. He obviously liked the place because all the waiters were either gay or so good at all the affectations, they easily passed as gay. It was surprising they could serve so well considering all the limp wrists.

Cheri had to keep bumping Casey to pay attention to her and not their waiter—a young man Peter knew was totally straight, including the wife, one child (girl, 2) and a baby (a boy) on the way, one dog, two cats, and an aquarium—who had the sweetest high tenor anyone would want to hear, an ass that practically begged for rimming, and a bulge up front that wasn’t doctored at all. According to all the other waiters, most of whom were gay, the guy’s size was measured with a couple fingers three-quarters of the way up the forearm.

“Too bad the sweetie isn’t interest in porn,” one of the waiters said once before, “because he’d make a mint whether it was gay or straight. He goes to church, for Christ sake, but at least he doesn’t push it.”

Nate was a nice guy and one night after the restaurant closed Peter bought him a drink in the bar. They talked for a long time as Peter tried to steer the conversation into more seductive territory, but the waiter wasn’t having any of Peter’s soft voice. To cap it off, Nate brought out pictures of his daughter and the ultrasound of his yet to be born son.

“See, right there, that’s his little penis,” Nate said.

“Looks kind of big to me,” Peter said.

“Well, he does come from a long line of generously endowed,” Nate said with a smile. “I guess I’d better get home.”

And that was that. Whenever Peter was at the restaurant he asked for Nate’s section and over a course of a couple years, almost a friendship grew between them.

Then last night it was Casey making a fool of himself and not being aware of what he was doing. His ogling was so blatant that a few of the other waiters pranced by to see if his innocent orbs picked up on their real and enhanced assets. One, a new boy Peter hadn’t met, bent down with the sweetest voice and fluttering eyebrows to ask if Casey wanted more water.

“No thank you,” Casey said blankly, seemingly totally unaware of what was being asked.

All of that could’ve been fuel for hilarity, but they all knew Casey wasn’t playing. He was just like all the other straights in the restaurant that came in on a whim or from a friend’s suggestion, “Let’s go eat with the queers,” and ended up being oblivious to the silent signals going on around them. Casey simply didn’t have the experience to respond to the invitations and, thank god, he didn’t have to use the restroom. All the restaurant staff would’ve followed him in there to show off and see if he’d pick up on that.

Now, Casey lay in the bed looking so pure, almost like the twelve-year-old child he reminded you of and not a boy who liked to suck cock while all the time professing not to be gay.

All showered and put together, Peter shook his head and went over to the bed. He bent down and kissed Casey on the cheek. He was going to miss the little tyke. They’d all miss him in their own way, but rules were rules and scholarship recipients could not attempt suicide. Along with Six, Casey was going to get a thorough psychological review and then they’d throw him out. Six got to stay because he wasn’t on scholarship, but there might be enough questions to force him into the dorms with Casey.

 

 

“How’s our little munchkin?” Peter asked as he walked into Six’s room. “Are we ready to go home?”

“Yeah, I guess,” Six said with a questioning look. Then he saw Casey and figured everything was okay.

“This is Peter, you’ve never met him before,” Casey said. Turning to the older man, he said, “You get the van ready and I’ll have Six ready when Kevin gets here with the wheelchair.”

“Pushy, pushy!” Peter exclaimed. “No funny stuff now, you know we’re in a hurry.”

“Yes mother,” Casey said and accepted her kiss on his cheek. He kind of wished Peter had been in the mood this morning as sucking cock seemed to make him feel good in some weird, strange way. It was almost as if in a brief moment it was perfectly okay to be the queerest kid around.

The guilt, of course, came later, usually a few hours later. The sickening feeling in his gut was a steady reminder of what he swallowed. The taste that never went away no matter what he tried to eat to cover it up. The realization that he was gay and someday, probably in the not too distant future, was going to take a guy’s cock up his ass sealing his future.

“Do you have any clothes for me to wear?” Six asked.

“Oh, yeah, I was thinking about something,” Casey said, putting the plastic grocery bag on the bed. “Euphorbia picked them out, so don’t go blaming me.”

“What’s with the wrist?” Six asked, pulling his gown off.

Casey stared at the naked boy, just as he’d stared a week ago. The cock was flaccid now, completely safe and innocent. Yet, even that didn’t make it less desirable. His gaze travelled up Six’s defined abs to the pecs, biceps, neck, and finally the face. Six was so beautiful he knew they could never be close. As much as he, now, hated the idea, he was going to have to continue with Cheri if he wanted to be gay.

“Casey, what’s wrong?” Six asked.

“Oh, sorry, you’re so perfect, my mind goes mushy,” Casey said as he locked on Six’s eyes. “Let’s see what Aunty Euphorbia decided you should wear home.”

“Casey, do you remember that moment last week when you touched me?” Six asked. He hadn’t made a move to put anything on, even though Casey had practically everything laid out on the bed, except for the boxer briefs he held by the elastic.

“Of course, it was only a week ago,” Casey said. “I’m not some white haired, old fart who can’t remember his name.”

“Why did you do it?” Six asked.

“You looked like you wanted me to touch it,” Casey whispered. He visibly swallowed as he watched the cock stir a bit.

“You didn’t say what’s with the wrist,” Six said, taking the briefs from Casey. He stood up and turned slightly showing Casey his ass in a way that seemed too intentional.

“I cut myself,” Casey said, suddenly aware that Six’s back and ass were just as desirable as the front. He could almost see himself with his face buried between those two perfect mounds of white flesh.

“What, with a knife in the kitchen?” Six asked as he turned and adjust himself in the briefs.

“No, with my shower mate’s razor,” Casey whispered. It was coming back to him, that moment of near death. That desire to leave this place. “It’s one of those old fashioned ones like they use in barbershops.”

“Casey?”

“Casey?”

“What?”

“I didn’t mean …”

“No, it’s just so soon afterwards.”

“I take it a lot has been happening since I’ve been gone.”

“Yeah, a lot,” Casey said, thankful the moment between them was passing. They were so close now he could almost feel the heat of Six’s body; the electrical charge passing between them. He stepped away. “You know they’re sending us to psychiatrists this afternoon for evaluations.”

“Yeah, I figured that would happen,” Six said as he pulled the t-shirt over his head. “My mother is such a bitch sometimes.”

“Yeah, well, in my case it’s the scholarship that’s doing it,” Casey said. “They’re going to make certain they’re not liable for my attempt. You know, like me sleeping with Peter.”

“How’s that work?” Six asked.

“What work?”

“Peter and Euphorbia, how do you tell you’re talking to one and not the other?” Six asked as he pulled on his jeans. They were his tightest pair. Euphorbia must have dug deep in Six’s drawer to find them.

“Peter would’ve picked out loose jeans, khakis, or some shorts,” Casey said. “Euphorbia picked the sexiest pants she could find.”

“But, up close, like when Peter walked in I could’ve sworn it was Euphorbia,” Six said.

“Euphorbia doesn’t wear jeans or dress slacks,” Casey said, “and never a t-shirt that’d show she was a guy. Euphorbia wears loose tops so you’re never quite certain. Peter’s a guy who likes to dress up like a woman, who happens to be Euphorbia.”

“That is definitely too weird,” Six said.

 

 

Six looked around his room and saw that the book was indeed gone, as was the incense, candles, and prayer mat. All of the accoutrements he used to go to that mountain. He kind of wished they hadn’t thrown out the prayer mat, but he could get another one fairly easy. It wasn’t like he couldn’t meditate without one. It just seemed more realistic to have something to focus your presence in the room while wandering around, if that’s what the meditation session came to be. Usually it was just going to that special place and focusing on the lake. It was a lot better now that he didn’t have to concern himself with demons, harpies, gryphons, and those gargoyles.

He went over to his bed and squatted down to retrieve his cum rag. It was still moist from his Uncle’s offering. So that had been a true vision. He put it to his nose, but there was barely a hint of odor. What was he going to do about this?

That question would have to wait, though, as the door chimed and he knew it would be Casey telling it was time to go to the shrink. Yet, he put the rag to his nose one more time trying to perceive something more. The scent wasn’t heady as he expected, rather somewhat bland. Still the tingling in his groin excited him at the thought of taking his uncle’s cock in his mouth and swallowing his offering.

The door chimed again and Six returned the rag to its place under the bed. Thoughts of Uncle Kevin danced in his head, but there were thoughts about the possibility of being with Casey, too. Casey was his age after all, even if he did look quite a bit younger; and, there was the obesity that nearly totally disgusted Six. How could a person let himself get that fat? He shuddered at the thought of having sex with Casey. Yet, there was something between them earlier at the hospital. He couldn’t deny that.

“I was afraid we’d have to get the master key again,” Casey said as Six opened the door. “We don’t have time to have lunch here; we’ll have to grab a burger on the way. That’s okay with you, right?”

“Yeah, I can subsist off the local fare,” Six said. He waited for the comeback or a chuckle, but Casey simply shook his head.

“I was joking,” Six said.

“Well, I can’t be certain of anything anymore,” Casey said as they walked down to the van. “That so called girl I’m seeing, well her mother talks just like that. He’s an actor and teaches at one of the community colleges and knows hundreds of plays and if a line fits in a conversation he puts it right in; or, like yesterday he was playing Errol Flynn to Cheri’s actress, whoever she was. Or, they were both playing actresses, I couldn’t figure it out. Just finding out my girl friend is a boy and her mother is her father was just a bit too much.”

“Is that why you cut yourself?” Six asked.

“I don’t know, now, why I did it,” Casey said in a worried voice. “I was fighting being gay. I didn’t want it and did everything to not be that way. I’m still not certain I could be gay and be happy. Not like you, anyway.”

“What makes you think I’m happy?” Six asked, and then asked himself that question. Was he happy being gay? He’d read on the internet that a lot of guys don’t fully come to accept being gay until they’re twenty or more. He’d never touched another boy or man until that day Casey touched him. It just never came up and now he was walking beside that boy and wanting very much to touch him, if only just his hand, something innocent, unintentional.

“Well, you’re not fat for one thing,” Casey said. “Obesity doesn’t do a whole lot for a positive self-image.”

“You have a cute face,” Six said.

“Reminds you of a twelve-year-old, right?” Casey asked.

“No, you’re older than that, maybe fourteen,” Six said. “I knew a kid in Portland who looked like you until he was practically eighteen. Everyone called him The Kid.”

“I bet he was unhappy,” Casey said.

“Man, you’re really down, aren’t you?” Six asked. “Wait a minute.”

Casey stopped and Six went up and hugged him. Then just before breaking the embrace he kissed the other boy on the cheek.

“What’d you do that for?” Casey asked, blushing.

“I thought you needed it,” Six said. “Feel any better?”

“Yeah, a little,” Casey said.

 

 

“Your name is Casey Bligh Pale, you’re eighteen years old, and you’re a freshman at North Park College, residing in Charles House as a recipient of a Robert Charles Scholarship, leave anything out?” The dark haired man behind the desk asked. There were diplomas and certificates on the far wall. The desk plaque said David E. Smith, MD.

“No,” Casey whispered, feeling very intimidated.

“You like being called Casey?” The doctor asked. He was a big man, probably played football in high school and possibly college. His hands were large, but there didn’t seem to be much fat on him. He just had a presence that said he was the boss and you were going to obey him, or else.

“Yes, sir,” Casey said, a little louder.

“And, the weight? Don’t tell me it’s a glandular problem,” the doctor said.

“Actually, sir, it is glandular, pituitary and maybe hypothalamus, too,” Casey said. “My endocrinologist said there were a few more tests he can do to pinpoint exactly what went wrong with my puberty.”

“You’re a little underdeveloped then,” the doctor said.

“Yes, sir, just a little,” Casey said.

“You didn’t mark your sexual orientation, any reason for that?”

“I’m not certain what it is, sir, and I think that might be the reason I did what I did,” Casey said. He was looking at his hands, now; refusing to acknowledge the doctor’s presence in the room.

“We’ll get to your motivations in a little bit. Right now I want to get to know you. Have you ever performed a homosexual act with another person, willingly or not?”

“Well, my uncle tried to rape me and I’ve sucked a lot of cock since coming here, but other than briefly touching a guy’s hard-on, no I haven’t done much of that kind of stuff.”

“How many men have you performed fellatio on?”

“What?”

“Fellatio, oral sex?”

“Oh, sucking cock, well, three, Peter, Brent, and Cheri, who isn’t really a girl, but wants everyone to think she is.”

“I see,” the doctor said. He busily scribbled notes on his pad. “Would you say that Cheri being a transvestite troubles you a lot, quite a bit, somewhat, not at all, or you’re not sure?”

“I guess it’d have to be a lot because she kept it from me until we had sex,” Casey said. “I mean she could’ve said something and there are others who know her and know that her real name is Tim, but they didn’t say anything either. I walked into it blind.”

“Did you enjoy having sex with her?”

“Yes, but she shaves down there just like Peter.”

“Who is Peter?”

“He’s the cook and housekeeper at the house or, rather, his other self, Euphorbia, does that. He’s a member of the board and a mentor to some of the students. He’s like over sixty.”

“And you performed oral sex on him? I see,” the doctor said, scribbling something down.

“It wasn’t forced or anything like that,” Casey said. “We slept together for a few nights when I first arrived and I sucked him in the morning. We’re not doing that anymore.”

“Do you miss not being with him?”

“Well, yeah, he’s my friend and he doesn’t judge me because of my weight. He doesn’t care if I might not be gay.”

“Are you gay?”

“I think so.”

“People take advantage of you a lot, don’t they?” The doctor asked.

“He didn’t take advantage of me,” Casey said feeling a tear well up in his left eye. He brushed it away. The doctor pushed a box of tissues across the desk and Casey took a few. “I liked the bath and tea he gave me. I sucked him because I felt he wanted me to. I’d never done that. He didn’t force me.”

“We’re not saying he did,” the doctor said as he scribbled something down on the paper.

“Casey, I want you to come back to see me,” the doctor said as he stood up signaling the end of the session. “I think with my help you’ll come through this okay and won’t be tempted to do anything to yourself again. Is that okay?

“Sure,” Casey said as he walked out the door. He hadn’t meant to say anything about sleeping with Peter and they’re having sex, but it just came out. He hoped Peter wasn’t going to get into trouble.

 

 

Six sat down in the leather side chair and studied the woman sitting across from him. She was older than his mother, but not by too many years. She had a grandmotherly air about her. The pictures of children and young adults holding babies were enough to convince him she was one of those.

Her hair was nearly black, but grey roots distracted the eye. Her nose was long and there was just a hint of a dark mustache. The eyebrows were slightly trimmed, but uncolored. In fact, there was a general lack of makeup on her face. He wasn’t quite certain if there was even any lipstick.

“You seem awfully definite about being gay,” the doctor said.

“I can’t see any reason why I shouldn’t be positive about it,” Six said. “It’s not like I can suddenly turn myself into a heterosexual.”

“There are a number of programs around that purport success in changing young men from a life of sin,” the doctor said.

“You’re a Christian, then,” Six said.

“Of course, that is the true faith,” the doctor said.

“Well, I’m not, so either get on with the psychiatry bit or get me another doctor,” Six said. He waited a moment, then got up and went out the door.

Peter was in the waiting room and didn’t look too happy when he saw Six walking toward him.

“She’s a damned religious freak and said she could cure me of homosexuality,” Six said with a tinge of anger in his voice. “Tell them I want a shrink that isn’t going to spout religious dogma in my face.”

“Sure, kid, why don’t you have a seat and I’ll see what I can do for you,” Peter said. He stood up and walked over to the reception desk.

Six sat down and desperately tried to calm his mind. He’d heard of those programs. Aversion therapy is what it was; just like they do to sexual perverts, except homosexuality was not a perversion. Some homosexual practices bordered on perversion, but if both parties agreed then was it perverse? Like Uncle Kevin in his room last night, that was perverse, but was his action a perversion? Did he go into all the boys’ rooms on occasion to masturbate unawares? Or, was the action directed to him alone?

“Hi, I’m Dr. Grant,” a voice said, causing Six to look up from his internal discussion. Six took the offered hand and the grip was firm, but not overpowering. The man was short like Casey, but very slender and, except for the gray peppering his neatly trimmed black hair, had almost boyish in appearance. Six felt comfortable.

“I understand Dr. Pierce didn’t meet your needs,” Dr. Grant said.

“She’s a homophobe,” Six said.

“Ah, yes, well, would you like to try this with me?” Dr. Grant asked.

“Sure, why not,” Six said.

 

 

“How was your shrink?” Six asked. They were on his bed lying beside each other on their backs. Their hands were close, but not quite touching.

“He was okay, I guess,” Casey said.

“My first one was a Christian freak who wanted me to go straight,” Six said. He’d never considered that as an option, going straight that is. He supposed he could do it. If what he’d read on the internet could be taken with a grain of truth, other men had done it, turned off the attraction to other men and focused on the woman beside you.

“You’re the last person I’d expect to go straight,” Casey said.

“Tell me what it’s like,” Six said. He brushed his hand against Casey’s, but withdrew it quickly.

“What what’s like?” Casey asked.

“Doing it with a guy?” Six asked. He felt the other hand, the fingers intertwine with his, and the firm tightening of the grip. “You don’t have to if you think this is weird or something.”

“Why don’t you find out on your own?” Casey asked.

Six thought a moment about the question. Was this an invitation? Did he want to do it with Casey?

“Well, does my obesity turn you off?” Casey asked. “Am I ugly? Do I stink? Are you afraid all my weight might crush you when I’m on top? Are you scared that you might actually have feelings for me afterwards and might want to do it again? Are you afraid things might get out of hand and I might stick my dick up your ass? Well, Davey? What do you want to know?”

“Why’d you call me Davey?” Six asked, angrily. No one had called him that since he was, he was, what? How old was he when he stopped being a little kid? When did it start making a difference what people called him? He turned on his side and the bulk of Casey, this close, somewhat turned him off. He jabbed a finger into Casey’s ribs, “Well?”

Casey squealed and squirmed away from Six. A weakness, thought Six. He’s ticklish, way too ticklish. He got up on his knees and went in for an attack from both sides. Casey howled as he tried to get away.

“Stop! Oh, god, stop, please,” Casey cried as Six continued the assault on his ribs. “Oh, shit! Stop, please.”

Casey was crying, now. Tears streamed out of his eyes, but Six also noticed the wetness in the boy’s groin. He started laughing.

“Hurry up, you’ve got to get up before it gets on my bed,” Six said as he tried to move the crying boy. “Come on, Casey, at least get up on your knees. I don’t want to have to change the sheets. Come on, I’m sorry, okay.”

Casey came to his senses enough to get on his knees and Six guided him off the bed. Without thinking, Six had the boy’s jeans and underwear down at his ankles. Everything was soaked with urine. He got down on his knees and removed the boy’s shoes and now damp socks and then helped Casey step out of the mass of wet clothes around his feet.

At what point he looked up and saw, or rather, didn’t see Casey’s penis, Six wasn’t certain. There were just folds of fatty tissue on the lower abdomen and thighs that hid whatever was between the boy’s legs. Casey was still whimpering, though, so Six got a soapy washcloth and began cleaning the boy.

Casey didn’t say a word when Six asked him to spread his legs so he could was between them. Six stared at the deformities and wondered if this was another reason he couldn’t have sex with him. After rinsing the area he touched the penis, such as it was, and felt it quiver slightly and begin to swell. It was now or never.

Six pressed his lips against the head and began to lick it with his tongue. It responded by growing about an inch in length and started to resemble a penis. The scrotum was small, too, but he didn’t ignore it, using his fingers to caress the crinkled skin.

He felt Casey’s hands in his hair, the massage of his fingertips, as the impending orgasm strengthened in the boy’s body. Six continued his gentle assault on Casey’s miniscule cock and emptied his mind of what was happening, simply concentrating on what he was doing.

When the end came, Casey whimpered slightly, and Six felt a couple pulses of tangy fluid land on his tongue. He stayed there for a moment until Casey pulled him away. They stared at each other as Casey bit his lower lip.

“Well, that’s half of it,” Casey said as he lowered himself to the floor and knelt beside Six. “Now, we have to figure out what you want. What do you want?”

Six sat there beside the boy whose measly amount of come was in his stomach. If he allowed Casey to do something, would it have to continue? Was that part of it? They lived in the same residence, after all. They’d see each other every day and the desire may return.

“Well, Davey, what’s it to be?” Casey asked. He put a hand high up on Six’s thigh near his crotch. “My obesity turns you off, doesn’t it?”

“A little,” Six said.

“Well, at least you’re honest,” Casey said. He stood up and went to the bed. “Well, I guess that it then. You’re going to have to go up to my room to get me some clothes because I certainly can’t go out there naked.”

“No, wait, what do you like to do?” Six asked.

“I’ve been doing a lot of cock sucking lately,” Casey said, “but for you, I’d let you fuck me.”

“I’m not doing that,” Six said.

“Afraid you might like it?” Casey asked.

“You know, you aren’t your old compliant self right now,” Six said. “What happened at your session today?

“I don’t know what happened,” Casey said. “I don’t know what’s been happening for the past week. It’s all a jumble and I don’t want to remember any of it. For all of her hatred towards me for being gay, I kind of want my mother right now.”

Six lay down beside the now whimpering boy and wrapped his arms around him. Sex would come some other day. Right now, Casey needed a friend, someone who wasn’t going to use him for their own purposes.

Copyright © 2011 CarlHoliday; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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