A New Beginning

The boys have discovered that the air smells much fresher now that they've pulled their heads out of their butts! Ah love, ain't it grand? They are about to see that homogenized isn't just for milk! The pygmy is narrating ...

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A continuation from Chapter. 3:

As we start walking, he slips his arm over my shoulder again.  'Should I remind him again? Nah ... screw it! This feels too good. Let the old tongues wag.' I slip my arm around his waist and adjust the tent in my trousers - okay, pup tent! I kinda glance down at his circus tent and grin. Maybe I'm gonna get to play Ringmaster when we get to my house!

We walk out into the bright sunshine and into a new day... a new day for the both of us and anew beginning! God, I'm sure glad we moved to Boise!

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Now that we're standing out on the front steps, I let my arm slip from around Richard's waist. He seems to get the implied message and lets his arm fall from my shoulders. (Again, a bit reluctantly it seems to me). We look at each other and I just kinda shrug my shoulders as if to say, "oh well, can't have everything".

The sun is bright and warm - one of those Indian Summer days you get in the early Fall. I can hear the birds singing and the loud voices of the few remaining kids on the grounds as they call to one another. There's the diesel rumble of the buses and the hiss of the air brakes as they pull away from the school grounds. Richard and I just sorta stand there, taking everything in.

I don't know about him, but I'm feelin' kind of reborn! Something about everything that has happened in the last hour or so has totally redefined me. Gone is the embarrassment, the apprehension, the guilt and all the negative feelings that have been bombarding me. They had been replaced by this sweetness of feeling that I can't really describe to you. But in the midst of this emotion is another one that has become more and more pronounced over these last few months - you know, that pup tent feeling!

I feel this silly grin slap itself onto my face and I look up to Richard. He looks down at me and answers with an even bigger grin and a chuckle. We both set our feet to moving down the walkway. Richard seems to cut back his long legged stride a bit to match my own short legged one. It makes me feel good to know he's willing to accommodate me and has this desire to make me feel comfortable with him. I'm thinkin' that if I told him I was self conscious because he was so tall, then he would probably apologize and walk stoop shouldered all the way to my house. Of course I'd never do such a thing to my hunk - heheh.

"Dang, Richard," I say, "you make me feel self conscious cuz you're so dang tall," I grin at him.

"Tuff shit, shrimp! Guess you'll just have to get elevator shoes, eh?" he smiles back.

Oh well, can't blame a guy for trying, can you? We turn right and head up the sidewalk that parallels the school. Richard's on my right so he turns first. He seems to know where he's going. I have the feeling that, if I allowed myself to lag a bit behind him, he could probably lead me right to the back steps of my house. That might just be wishful thinking on my part but it gives me this warm, full feeling to think that he may have watched me walk all the way home before. 'My Richard - my stalker ... heheh!'

"Carl ... you're like, from California, huh?" he interrupts my thoughts.

"Ya, man; can'tcha tell by my golden tan and beach boy attitude?" I stop for a second to strike this Adonis, muscle-man pose. He throws his head back and gives me an 'I don't know what I'm going to do with you' head shake.

"Well, I'd say your golden tan was more like a golden splatter across the bridge of your nose." He's making reference to all these darn freckles that make me so mug-ugly. That puts a slight damper on what I've been feeling as we've been walking. I'd actually forgotten for a minute that I was this ugly duckling walking with this swan. I guess Richard sees my little emotional shift because it's his turn to come to a stop.

"You aren't actually self conscious about those freckles, are you, buddy?"

I shrug my shoulders.

"Nah," I lie to him.

"Dude ... Carl," he says, "yer freckles are like totally awesome, man!" I cock my head, not believing or accepting what I'm hearing here.

"I mean it, Carl," and he gently reaches up and runs a finger across the bridge of my nose.

"You just don't know what these little spots do to me." He blushes a little because he's just said something so personal and heart-felt (and so totally gay). And then he does something that makes me melt into my shoes. He places the fingers of both his hands on my cheeks and uses his thumbs to lightly stroke the bridge of my nose. I'm not melting in my shoes anymore, I'm melting in my underwear! I feel like this puppy that's being stroked by his master. If I had a tail, it would be wagging my ass off right now!

"If you ever tell me you hate these freckles, little bud, you'll be slapping me in the face. Cuz it'd hurt to have ya hate something that fills my heart up like this."

I don't know what to say. I guess I'm kinda speechless after hearing that emotional outpouring. I just kinda stand there ... just stand there wagging my tail!

"Well," I say, finally getting my grin back. "If ya like these then you're gonna fall in love with my shoulders - cuz I've got like a kazillion of 'em."

I start walking again but I turn to face Richard and just sorta walk backwards. I'm just walking, looking at him and grinning. That rosy glow of his cheeks kinda spreads over his whole face and I think ...

' Gosh...he gets embarrassed easy. And gosh ... he's so darn handsome. And gosh ... HE THINKS MY FRECKLES ARE CUTE!'

"So, ahh ... Carl," he says, and he gets this impish grin, "have you got any on your butt?"

"I don't know," I giggle, sort of skip-walking backwards now. "I guess we'll just have to check."

"So, Richard," I ask, "does your butt turn red when you're embarrassed?"

He turns redder! Then ... "Har, har, Har!" There goes that belly laugh again.

"I don't know, Carl. I guess we'll just have to check."

We're both laughing now. And I'm skipping backwards and then skipping sideways - just sorta dancin' all around him. I feel so good I just can't contain myself. Then I glance around and notice that we've passed the turn for my street. 'Darn, he didn't turn by himself,' I think, 'I guess he hasn't followed me home before after all.'

"Hold on, Carl," he says, "didn't we just pass your street?" ~~Boingg!

"Oh, yeah," I answer, "got my head up my butt again - or your butt or somebody's butt!"

'DUDE - he did recognize my street. Awesome!' 

I don't say anything about him knowing my street. I still wanna see if he can pick out my house. We've another block to go and I decide I'll pretend to pass it again and see if he'll notice.

"So, Richard, are you like this big, sports jock or something," I ask him, "cuz ya definitely look like ya work out or something."

Now it's his turn to stop and strike his Adonis, muscle-man pose.

"Yeah, Carl. I'm totally into ballet and tap dancing," he tells me.

There is this kinda dead pause while I feel my eyebrows lift up and my mouth go into this little 'o'.

"Ballet?" ... I whisper.

"Har, har," he laughs, "gottcha, shrimp! You should see yer face! No, Carl ... I swim. I'm on the swim team. That's my only sport, though. I'm not good at basketball and stuff."

"Ohh ... swimming, huh? Well that's just too darn bad!" I reply.

Richard gives a little head twitch at this comment and says,"Wadda ya mean?" He gets this serious look and asks, "What's bad about it?"

"Oh, nothing terribly," I answer. "I mean, swimming is good, healthy exercise. What I meant was ... you'd look pretty darn cute wearing a tutu. I'm just a little disappointed, is all."

This has the desired effect and Richard Blushes.

"And, by the way," I continue, "you should see yer face now!"

"God," he says, and he's shaking his blushing head like he can't quite figure me out.

"What am I gonna do with ya, Carl? I can see there's no way I'm ever gonna top ya with a tease. You're just too sharp for me. I guess I'll just have to be the straight man in this comedy duo."

"No, no, no ... NO!" I nearly yell at him, screwing up my face to get this angry look. That brings us to a complete stop.

He has this kinda shocked expression and it's his turn to arch his eyebrows.

"Wadda ya mean, Carl? What did I say?"

"What I mean, Richard, is that the last thing I wanna do is turn ya into a straight man - then ya wouldn't think I'm cute anymore!" And I wiggle my eyebrows at him.

"Get it, dude...STRAIGHT man?" Then I flop a limp wrist at him.

"Oh my God, Carl." He looks up into the air and starts shaking his head again. Now he's laughing and it doesn't look like he can stop himself.

"Carl, I'm just gonna have to spank...yer...butt!" He's holding his school books against his belly like it's aching. The way he's laughing it probably is.

"Woo...woo! Come on, big daddy!" And I start moon walking backwards down the side walk.

"We need to get to my house cuz I'll be darned if I'm gonna let ya spank me in public."

Then I do my Michael Jackson grab-the-crotch routine and twirl. (Eat your hearts out, Jackson fans. I've got his moves down perfect.) I'm quite a ways ahead of him now and I'm not slowing down. I guess my legs aren't so short after all. Or, I guess I need some incentive to lengthen my stride.

Richard starts walking again, picking up the pace a bit to catch up. He's grinning like a dung beetle that just found an elephant turd.

"Now I think I know which of us would look good in a tutu," he says, enjoying my antics.

"Oh yeah," I answer, skipping along.

"For your information, mister, this is not ballet. This is Michael Jackson. Woo..." grab the crotch and do the pelvic twist. Then some more of my famous moon walking.

"Har, har, har! Oh man, Carl, I can tell I'm never gonna be bored with you around. Oh, and by the way, it's a pretty good Michael but a much better Janet!"

"Oh?" I reply, and stop my dancing. I put my hands on my hips and get this mock indignant look on my face.

"I can't be Janet cuz I like boys ... and not girls ... so there! Ipso facto ... I must be Michael!"

At this we both bust up laughin' again. We're just facing each other and having this gut fest when Richard takes a deep breath and glances around.

"Uh ... Carl, didn't we just walk past yer house?" And he points slightly behind him and to the right.

Sure as shit - we've just passed my driveway and Richard's pointing right at it! My jaw just kinda drops as the significance of this event slaps me like a towel on the ass. When he sees my face he must realize what I'm thinking cuz he just suddenly turns a very deep red. He knows I have him by the nose hairs and he's just waiting for the inevitable. I don't disappoint him, either.

"Whoa there, Nelly!" I yell. I just twirl my book bag around in a circle and send it flinging onto my front lawn. Then I give Richard my best 'gotcha' look and started dancing around him.

I'm singing, "Richard is my stalk er! Richard is my stalk er! He knows where I li ive! He knows where I li ive!"

Then I put my hands on my hips and say, "my mother warned me about guys like you, mister. You're probably gonna offer me some candy now, ain'tcha?" Then I grab my crotch and do a twirl. (Take that Janet.)

All this time Richard's trying to wave me down with both hands. He's shushing me and lookin' around to see if any neighbors are paying attention. He's so red ya could probably draw blood from his eyelashes!

Finally, I feel sorry for him and I stop dancin'. The poor guy is soo embarrassed. He's got his hand across his eyes like a sunshade and he's looking down at his feet. So I walk up to him, put my hands on my knees and scrunch down so I am peering right up into his face.

"We can go inside now, Richard," I whisper, "and I'll give you some candy ... little boy." I reach out my hand to him and just wait for a response. It's pretty quick in coming. He just grins at me and says ...

"I'm not holding hands with ya on the sidewalk, ya little perv. You'll have to get me in the house to do that nasty stuff!"

"Woo ... woo," I yell, as I steam over to my book bag. I scoop it up and make a dash for the back door. I'm standing there with the screen door open, waiting for my hunky stalker to slink into my house. 'I wonder if he can see my tail wagging?'

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Oh oh, it sounds like Carl has his big buddy right where he wants him, lightly wrapped around his little finger. But you better watch out, Carl - you were promised a spanking! Let's see if he gets it in the next chapter. At least, let's see if someone spanks something!

We have a message from the school principal: "Whoever is writing my wife's cell phone number on the boys' bathroom walls will face suspension!"