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Life on the Farm

by Joe Writer Man

Chapter 4

The alarm went off at 6:00am. I hit the snooze button twice. At 6:20 I jumped out of bed but slowed down considerably as twinges of pain shot from my hip letting me know that it was not yet back to normal.

After using the facilities, I ran a tub of hot water, got in and soaked for about 30 minutes thus relaxing the muscle spasms to a much more manageable level. Satisfied it was as good as it was going to get, I took hold of my male organ, coaxed into a fully upright position then got it so excited that it sent shards of pleasure throughout my entire body, even curling my toes. Once sufficiently recovered, I drained the tub and switched over to shower mode. After washing and rinsing my hair, I soaped up a washcloth and began with the rest of my body. It was then that I heard knocks on the kitchen door, obviously asking for permission to enter.

A pang of fear coursed through my veins, wondering just exactly who would be calling that early in the morning. The bathroom window permits a very limited view of the driveway however if people parked up next to the garage their vehicle was observable. Dripping wet, I got out of the shower, soaking wet and soaped up considerably, and peered out the little window. I saw the back light and bumper of the car – it was a Porsche – which meant Adam.

I wiped my face, and my hair just enough to keep my eyes dry, headed to the kitchen, quickly opened the door, invited Adam in and then I took off for the bathroom to finish my morning rituals. On the way, my towel fell off my hips thus leaving me naked as the day I'd been born. Adam blew a wolf whistle to be proud of. Giggling, I made it to the bathroom, got in the shower and finished what had been started.

Dried off, I bunched up a hand towel, covered my bits sufficiently, and went to the separation doorway to the kitchen to see the manner in which Adam was dressed. He was dressed casually so I took off to my room to put on a pair of underwear, Cargo shorts, an orange pullover shirt, white socks and my shoes. I then blow dried my hair and brushed it and my teeth.

Adam was talking on his cell phone. When he saw me enter he terminated the call and looked at me with approval. He suggested we go to the park and do a shoot there. I readily agreed since the park is one of my favorite places to be and to do stuff.

For the next 3 hours, or so, we did a formal shoot at the park close to 'my spot', though no water or swimming was required, or wanted.

Lunch at the country club was casual, relaxed and entirely enjoyable, far different than my last experience a few days prior. When I shared my observations with Adam he indicated the evening dinner crowd was prim, proper, and usually attended by stuffed shirt snot fuckheads having nothing better to do than to show off, show up, and show what an ass they can be or are.

The afternoon shoot was quite different than any previous experience in that the lunch crowd was not filled with stuffed shirts, people with their noses in the air so they could look down at you, and nobody made snide-ass comments. I had a roasted ham sandwich with the works, chips and a Coke while Adam had a turkey sandwich on a toasted bun, au gratin potatoes, green beans and a single mixed drink, a bloody Mary as I recall.

Next, we hit a Dick's Sporting Goods store and spent a couple of hours running around looking at this and that. I observed Adam to be an outdoors kinda guy. I related because I loved the camp outs a scout troop went on at least 4 times a year when I was in the organization. I got disenchanted with the whole thing when we had to do this, do that, don't do this, don't do that, work with and play with general fuckwits who didn't know their ass from a hole in the ground.

(As an aside note, I've read Nifty stories that talk about sex between campers and staff alike but, unfortunately, this was not the case for me – not that I would have wanted to have had sex with an adult counselor but I would have welcomed the opportunity to play around with my peers! Just thought I'd add that in! James.)

So... he purchased a few items he didn't have but needed. We decided to go camping the following weekend. That was some kewl shit; I really looked forward to the trip.

As we were rummaging around, we went through the clothing department; I stopped and looked at some swimming suits. I picked out, at Adam's insistence, two pairs of boardie suits and then some Speedos. I'd never even thought about Speedos... but they looked kewl. Adam told me to pick out a couple of pairs. I picked out a black pair and a bright blue pair. They didn't have my size on display however the saleswoman went to the stock room and found pairs in color preferences and size. The freaking Speedo suits cost over $200 for the 4 of them, geezus.

A sign in the department read that the company was looking for boys between 10 and 16 to model the Speedo brand attire for its product line. That caught my attention because the fine print indicated that should a boy be selected then he would be compensated for his time, and even if the boy was not selected the first four runner ups would received no less than $250.00.

At Adam's suggestion I completed the application form. He signed it as the adult/parent/guardian. The clerk faxed it to Speedo.

He purchased some other stuff then we took off for a boat store. I couldn't believe it but he bought, paying with cash in the form of a check, a huge fuckin boat with all the bells and whistles.

The salesman asked Adam how he wanted to receive it since the model we selected (yeah, I was a part of the decision making process, he asked me how I liked it! Nobody had ever asked me for my opinion on anything!). Adam had this pensive look on his face. I giggled and said, "That boat would look cooler than shit being towed behind a Porsche."

Adam playfully smacked me up the back of my head. He then told the salesman he'd be back in a couple of hours.

Ha, we went to the local Ford dealer where he purchased a Ford 350 pickup truck. They had one dealer demo model remaining on the lot. The dealerships' owner had been driving it around for his vehicle.

The guy was on foot, or made other arrangements, because Adam purchased it, again with cash by writing a check. The salesman was happier than a clam in water. He offered to drive the Porsche to Adam's home. Adam took him up on it so we drove the truck home while the salesman followed us. Then we took off for boat dealer, hitched it up then went to the tax office and paid the taxes and fees for both new vehicles.

When all was said and done it was about 5pm, and Adam had spent over $175,000.00 cash money. The truck wouldn't fit in the garage, obviously so he mused about requesting estimates given for an out building to store it.

He took a bunch of pictures of his boat and sent them to his insurance agent and to a few other recipients he selected.

Dinner that night consisted of rib eye steaks, a baked potato each, and a crisp green salad. That was the best steak I'd ever eaten, even better than the one I'd had at the snot-nosed country club he belonged to and took me to.

After dinner we talked about various things... mainly our upcoming camping trip to the wilderness. We both liked Lake of the Grand Cherokee so that's where we decided to go for the weekend. That and he had a cabin in a secluded section.

The excitement of the day was shattered when he asked, "When are your parents going to be home?"

"I've figured they'd be back on Saturday. Dad has to be back to work on Monday. I saw he has several appointments. But they might be back a day early... that's how they are. I don't really want to see them. My mom will have something to say about me not going with them, probably something like 'you would have been a pain in the fucking ass'." I replied as my chin hit my chest.

Adam tilted his head, "I'm really surprised that they really feel that way about you. But at the same time, I heard how you feel about them by the way you answered the phone... that's too bad, James. I'm sorry it has to be that way."

"James, if I'm meddling just ignore me or set me straight... but don't you have family or friends where you could stay? Isn't there somewhere you could go without having to live on the streets?"

"NO, no relatives! They don't give one fuck about us. Mom's a fucking bitch; she has a way about her that nobody wants to be around. I did okay; I survived doing what I was doing."

"And just exactly what were you doing? Stealing? Are you sleeping in dumpsters, corners or in the park? Begging? What else James? Have you started selling your wares for some jingle, a place to lay your head down at night, food in your stomach?"

"Well gee fucking shit Adam. I'll talk to mommy and daddy to see if would be okay for you to come to dinner. I'm sure they'll be welcoming. What do you mean 'selling your wares'?"

Adam said knowingly, "It means have you're selling your mouth and butt for money... as in whoring around."

"Fuck no; I don't do that shit... What the fuck man?"

"Don't have a cow... sheesh... I was just asking. Let me tell you: you'll get hungry enough, cold enough, desperate enough to do nearly anything, including prostituting or running drugs or both. You'll get there, I promise. I've seen it too many times before."

"Nope, not me, I won't do that stuff." I said seriously. I'd never do that shit.

Adam simply shrugged. Softening his voice, he said, "Shall we get you home, tiger?"

It was my turn to shrug my shoulders, "Did you have to do that stuff, you know sell your mouth and butt, or sell drugs?"

"Yes, but I haven't done or sold drugs in several years now. They're wicked James, trust me. At first I sold them but then started using them too - to make me forget and to somehow make sense of what I was doing, and why. Sometimes it's better not to have to remember."

"So what the hell am I supposed to do, Adam? I'm running out of options." I asked, starting to feel like the walls were moving in on me.

"There are always options, James. Let me make some phone calls, okay? I should have some answers in a day or two, deal?"

"About what?" I asked sarcastically, knowing nothing could be done about my parents or the situation I was in. I decided that I'd just keep going, but first I needed money, "When am I going to get paid? Sorry... I just need to figure out what I'm going to do next. And... remember our deal... no charity... no handouts. What's it going to cost me? My butt? My mouth?"

"James. I thought we understood each other." Adam asked in a very sad tone.

I was upset. "Sorry, Adam. I'm just scared. I trust you. Forget I said that last part."

"No apology needed, James. I've been where you're at."

"But you made it." I said, looking directly into Adam's eyes.

"Maybe so but that doesn't change the situation you're in, now does it? How do you know I'm not some kind of evil terrorist or mass murder or baby seller or something equally bad?"

"You're not that kind of people, Adam. I've always been able to pretty much figure out when people are lying or pissed. I've got lots of practice."

"You're right; I'm not that kind of guy. I learned from the streets. Those experiences gave me fight and perseverance and commitment to never go back. So, you're really going to return to the streets? Do you really want to do that? Think about it."

I looked at Adam and felt defeated, in a low voice I said, "I've never left them, Adam. I've basically been on my own for about 2 years. I've learned a lot... anyway, I can and will survive. I'm not too worried about it."

Adam looked at me and said simply, "Bullshit." He paused before continuing, "I think you can survive, James. You've got a lot of determination. You're learning the basics. I will warn you, but you already know it, it gets really cold here in the winter time. Living on the streets during winter is totally brutal. I started turning tricks to have somewhere warm to lay my head down whenever I could. Sometimes, though, I was stuck out on the streets, and like you I slept wherever I could just to get out of the elements, or found an all-night diner, usually the cook would let me chill in the kitchen -- for a fee. It's tough but I think you'll get by, if you don't freeze to death first."

"What do you mean 'fee'?"

"Usually a blow job but sometimes, if it was REALLY cold then I could count on getting fucked, and I gladly paid the price. You don't survive below zero shit, and you know it, right?"

I nodded because he was right. It was at that point I realized that without someones help, I was well and truly fucked. At least I KNEW Adam, and wasn't afraid of him.

We talked about a few other things before taking me home. It was a little past midnight when he left for his place.

I was very tired yet wasn't ready for bed so I took off on my bicycle and rode aimlessly around town for a couple of hours before returning to an empty house where there was no love, nurturing, or anything else really. I debated why I was even there. I couldn't get out of my mind that my dad, the sperm donor went to Alaska without even talking to me, or even telling me that I "had" to go with them.

I did something I hated to do: I cried myself to sleep, still in my clothes, lying on top of the covers, hungry, and lonely.

I slept in late the following morning because I wasn't in any hurry to do anything. Not bothering to get dressed, I cleaned the house, did a load of laundry, ate, took a nap, took the trash outside to the garage (sans clothing – at that point I didn't care since all the neighbors would have been at work, surely, except the nosy lady who lived down the road half a block or so).

I tried a different tact with jacking off. I'd stroke until I was on the edge of orgasm.... and stop. I'd squeeze my cock real hard and hold it still until the urge to cum passed. The first time, I made it through two interruptions before the sensation of cumming overtook all sense of reason which ended in a colossal orgasm.

The second time, about 2 hours later, I lasted for 5 times, then on the 6th I not only went over the edge but I jumped off the cliff into oblivion. I thought my dick was going to blast off like a rocket ship, slamming through the rafters, insulation, and the roof and drill through the trees, and on out into outer space.

Thankfully, when I came down from that mind blowing, physically challenging catapult into the hereafter, my dick was still present and accounted for, though it was a shriveled up blob of flesh that would surely have taken a microscope to fully appreciate.

After folding and putting away my clean clothes (did I tell you I was basically a 'neat freak'?), I showered and got dressed. I headed to the grocery store to purchase a salmon steak, potatoes for baking, stuff for a crisp green salad, and pudding.

The salmon steak got totally fucked up (I thoroughly burned it under the broiler) but successfully nuked two of the large potatoes, added plenty of butter and cheese, salt and pepper and then feasted out filling my tummy.

Once I'd finished eating, I cleaned the kitchen I stripped (I do not recommend eating hot food while naked), enjoyed a hella dump and took a long hot shower.

While washing my privates and butt, my fingers found their way into my rite of passage and sent waves of pleasure throughout my pelvic region, and beyond. Taking a challenge to see how many fingers I could get in that tight place, I managed to get two completely in, and a third nearly in. I worked them in and out, from side to side, but mainly I liked the sensations created by, what's it called? Finger fucking. Just as I'd reached my limit, I inserted my thumb and quickly found the tissue that created so much energy of excitement. Rather quickly the pleasure turned to discomfort so I stopped, rinsed and dried off, and went to my room after locking up the house, where I took my tool of pleasure and rocketed into yet another dimension of existence, and immediately fell into a deep, contented slumber.

*-* Thursday *-*

I woke up early. The sun was out in full force and effect; the fuckin birds were chirping their asses off; the crickets were cricketing, and the strong breeze was causing the leaves on the trees to rustle – all were inviting to go see and experience.

I called Adam too see what the game plan was. He told me that he had to go to Tulsa on business but that he'd be back on Friday in plenty of time to load up and take off for the Lake before traffic got heavy.

With nothing to do, I decided to go riding around and far as I dared. In short order, I was showered, dressed, my stomach filled to capacity with Cocoa Puffs, two bananas, an orange, and a quarter carton of chocolate milk, and loaded up with bottles of water and sandwiches. Maybe I'd find a different park to hang out at to pass the day.

Being basically of the Tom Sawyer variety I found that I liked to explore areas through trees, creeks and abandoned farm houses. Needing to rest I stopped at this one abandoned farmhouse. Of course all the window's had long ago had been broken or blown out. The door was literally hanging off its hinges. Warily I entered and went from room to room, imagining what it would have looked like with people living there with furniture and stuff, some kids playing around, being happy, being loved, being wanted, being, being, being... whatever the fuck.

The urge to take a dump became overpowering. Of course the house had no running water, no toilet, and I definitely did not want my ass, or worse, ate up by lions, tigers, bears, snakes, bugs, and the like.

I then eyed the sewer pipe leading to God only knows where... I really had a blast trying to aim my butt over the waste pipe that had no toilet on top. I dead centered each and every time. I was proud of myself. But there was no paper or other alternative anywhere to be found. In the kitchen I did find a hot pad in a bottom drawer tucked way back inside. I made do.

From the kitchen window I had a panoramic view of the barn, the trees, the bushes, a field, a line of trees used to separate the owner of one property from another, a pond, no wait there were two ponds, a tractor shed, a corral, and a water pump (the old hand-pump style). The main thing I noticed, however, was the wide open spaces. I had an urge, and then acted on that urge to take my clothes off to explore the area – Au naturism.

Talk about freedom. I had no qualms about neatly folding all my clothes and placing them on a shelf in what appeared to be the master bedroom, exiting the house, and walking all over the place with the sole intention of just looking around for something interesting to see or do. Having never been on a farm before, I made a solemn oath to return to the farm as often as I possibly could... perhaps that farm was even a place I could run to and call my very own.

Adam's words about harsh cold winter nights brought me back to reality, somewhat. I just decided to have fun that day, and not to worry about tomorrow or 5 months down the road.

I explored each and every out building and the two ponds I'd seen from the kitchen window. They weren't all that interesting so I headed toward the stand of trees. There was another pond just before the treeline. It was sparkling clean, and trees were all around. I tested the water with my foot... the temperature was perfect, the shore was muddy allowing entry without fear of cutting my feet. I had an absolute fucking blast. I'd never been skinny dipping, ever.

The middle part of the pond, neck high on me, was the deepest. Every now and again I'd feel something touching me. Sometimes I was touched on an arm, a leg, my back, my butt... one time I felt something latch onto my right ball but before I could swat it away it left on its own, under its own power. Thing about it is that I could not determine if the touches were real or imagined, or wanted in some insane way. The only thing I really knew was that whatever was touching me had no malevolent or sinister motives.

(I would later learn those were probably fish touching against me! Dad Richardson told me that those sensations could have been from a snake's touch! I cringed at hearing that news! Tom said that he once had a leach attach itself to his penis! James.)

A little while later I got out of the pond and headed toward the tree line. By the time I'd arrived, my body, including my hair was completely dry. The afternoon sun was very warm; at no time did I feel any chill after getting out of the water and before totally drying off.

I wandered about looking for a special place to just chill out. The tree-bush line was wide very long, and a creek flowed within.

Soon, I arrived at a small clearing. I found my place.

A tree had been struck and felled by lightening. It was a big fucker. Over time its bark had fallen off or rotted away so its trunk was completely bare and smooth. It was perfect to lie on, with plenty of room to spare on all sides.

The breeze was cool though it was mostly quiet because the fallen down tree was located deep within the stand of trees. There was sunlight popping through the foliage that provided a nice balance between the warm and cool. It was just perfect. Soon I fell asleep.

Maybe an hour later I awoke. Despite the hard surface, I felt free and comfortable, mainly free. I laid there and thought how nice it would be to have a farm when I got big and was able to afford one. That was my dream. I could have cattle, horses, pigs, sheep, and goats to mow the yard with, and a big fucking house with lots of windows so the sunshine could come through to make the house light. Perhaps I would become an architect.

Then without warning, while looking up in the trees and seeing a bird feeding its young in a nest, I started crying... I just let it happen and didn't hold back. They were happy tears though. All my concerns, worries and wonders about what tomorrow would bring evaporated. I then experienced a colossal racking mind blowing orgasm. I looked down really quickly to see what that was all about as I'd never before experienced a hands-free orgasm. What I saw was that my hand was furiously jacking my stub of a penis. I then allowed myself to fully become engulfed in the moment, loosing track of all around me, paying attention only to that which made me male, pushing aside everything else.

I fell asleep again after experiencing the strongest orgasm of my young life.

When I awoke it was nearly dusk.

Damn it.

I was starved.

I got up and nearly ran into a deer grazing with its young ones close by. The deer looked at me. Seeing that I was not there to harm it or its offspring it returned to grazing, as if I weren't even present. That was way cool.

I made it back to the house even though it was almost pitch black dark. Literally, I felt my way through the house to the bedroom where my clothes were located. I was lucky, very lucky that my bare feet didn't find any shards of imploded glass to step on.

On the way home, I stopped in a burger joint, ordered two large hamburgers with everything and a two liter bottle of Coke, took it home and after arriving devoured one and a half burgers plus a large order of fries.

The next order of business was a shower. It became clear to me why the counter clerk at the burger joint looked at me like I was some type of two legged urchin, or something equally sinister. You should have seen the brown against the white tiled shower floor.

I looked into the mirror to see the 'new me', all squeaky clean... and wind and sun burned to a noticeable hue of red, though it wasn't stinging hot.

Bed time was early. Somewhere during my nightly masturbation ritual I'd closed my eyes... and that was all there was to it. Sleep overtook my body totally and completely.

The following morning, freshly showered and my tummy filled to capacity I headed to the park to meet up with Adam. I'd worn a long t-shirt (thanks sperm donor) and a short skimpy nylon pair of running type shorts, shoes and socks figuring that we'd take another set of water pictures, so to speak... anyway I was ready.

By the way the sun was shining; I figured it was just past 7am. I found a picnic table, sat down and just watched Mother Nature do its thing. While the park was no comparison to the farm it still took my mind back to my experiences there the previous day.

My quiet interlude was interrupted by seeing Adam's Porsche entering the parking lot. I got up, ran to his vehicle, and began jabbering about my experiences at the farm. He was actually listening to what I had to say. That was cool. He asked me if I'd be interested in doing a shoot there sometime since I told him over and over again about how free I felt there. Reluctantly, I agreed but that I didn't want to do it that day. It was all still so new, and it was private, and it was mine.

When I'd finished sharing my experiences he said apologetically, "I'm sorry for being late. I had some things come up..."

"You don't have to apologize. I work for you."

Adam regarded me carefully. He said, "You have a work ethic better than my own. Thanks. Are you ready to get started?"

"Yeah." I said happily.

With that he reached onto the passenger side floorboard and retrieved the Speedos.

I looked to Adam.

He nodded, "They're yours, James. I heard from Speedo yesterday afternoon. They want several pictures sent to them. I should have thought about that. Anyway, I told them that I'd get some, if you were agreeable."

I reached into the bag. Not only were the Speedos in there but there was another package. I pulled it out, looked at it, and tore it open. Inside were 5 pairs of string like things with a pouch in the front. There were 2 black pairs, a baby blue pair, a dark green one, and a white one.

"Where did you get these?" I asked curiously, knowing that we'd bypassed the boys' wear department.

"Do you like them, yes or no?" Adam asked sincerely,

I replied weakly, "Yeah, thanks, they're cool."

"Do you really like them?" Adam asked excitedly.

I replied, holding the pair up into full vision, "Yeah, I'm just not used them. But yeah, I like them."

Adam waited expectantly. Incredulously, I asked, "What, do you want me to put them on now?"

Adam's response was: he turned away and started walking toward the lake, not waiting for me.

I shrugged, got into the car and closed the door, stripped off my clothes after looking around to make sure nobody was close by – there wasn't though Adam was looking my way from the lake.

I stripped, tossing all my clothes to the floorboard.

Brazenly, I held up my shorts and underwear. He grinned and motioned for me to hurry up.

On the third attempt, I finally got the bands correctly placed. The only problem: my dick was extremely hard, poking up and out from the very small pouch designed to hold ones' bits together.

The string arising from the lower portion of the pouch and extending to the back of the waistband was definitely annoying to the innermost reaches of my butt crack. The most annoying part of the entire annoyance was how it rubbed directly against my anus, which, because I'd recently found a new place of enjoyment kept me mostly boned up.

After putting on my Cargo's I headed down to where Adam was standing. When I arrived, I smiled sheepishly.

"Well, do they fit?" Adam, smiling, asked curiously.

"Yup, they're kewl." I replied. After a quick glance around the park to check for onlookers, and finding none, I unfastened my Cargo shorts and permitted them to fall to the ground around my ankles. During the walk to Adam, my dick had, thankfully, retreated to its proper resting place though very little was left to the imagination. Seeing that he approved, I swiveled around on the balls of my feet but didn't linger when I faced away from him.

"They look great on ya. How about we get started with the shoot? And, oh by the way <Adam chuckled> where did you get the 'all over' sunburn?"

I reminded him of my travels to the farm, adding that my explorations had been done aunatural. He chuckled. After putting myself together we finished in short order as Adam had another appointment to attend to. Our early quit time was actually pretty kewl. We planned to meet up again early the following morning. With the down time I decided to go back to the farm, and did just that.

Once again I had an absolute blast and got home at about 9:30pm. One thing that had happened differently was that I got a lot of bug bites on my arms, neck, legs, ankles and butt, and two on my dick both on the underside where my cock rests on my balls.

After showering the grunge and gunk away, I made up and ate a bologna sandwich for dinner, put Calamine lotion on the bites and called it an evening, jacked off to a successful conclusion after using the 'jack it and interrupt it' method. Almost immediately, I fell into a deep, deep sleep.

At some point during the night I was awoken by a brilliant and terrorizing light that lit up the entire room, and house. Immediately, it was followed by sounds of CRASH! BANG! CRASH! BANG!! Like a fucking atom bomb had exploded.

My eyes sprang open.

I screamed.

My muscles tightened up just like a leopard ready to pounce.

I buried my head under the pillow just as another brilliant light shattered the dark followed immediately by CRASH BANG CRASH BANG which rattled the house off of its foundation, or so it seemed.

The wind driven rain was smashing against the open window screen right next to my bed. I was soaked. My bed was soaked. We were getting wetter and wetter as each second passed.


CRASH! CRASH! CRASH!! BANG! CRASH! BANG!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

30 seconds.

60 seconds.

90 seconds.

2 minutes.

3 minutes.

5 minutes.

10 minutes.

I think I looked at my watch at the 10 minute mark. The lightening was bright; the thunder was further off in the distance, not right on top of me.

I jumped out of bed, tore through the house and into my parents' bed, tore down an opening in the covers, and then buried myself totally and completely. I was shaking like a leaf. My screams were replaced by hoarse gasps of air into and out of my lungs. "MOMMY! DADDY!" I eked on exhalations, knowing they weren't there... but I had to try.

The storm passed by. I lay awake for hours, or so it seemed. I was waiting for the other shoe to drop but all was quiet yet I still heard the thump, thump, thump of blood coursing through the blood vessels in my temples. I was no longer screaming. Rather I was whimpering like a dog sounds when it had been beaten up, or was scared to death – I'd seen both during my short years alive on the planet.

I don't know how long it was but it must have been a long time before I moved just enough in their bed to peep out from under the covers, ever so slightly. The house was pitch black dark; not even the street lights were shining through the windows. The clock on the bedside table was off. I couldn't even see my hand in front of my face because of the total absence of light.

I shuddered violently. A jerk from my very own body scared the hell out of me, so much so that I once again buried myself deep under the comforter, hoping against hope the monster wouldn't return and swallow me up in its clutches, chew me up and then spit me out in a million gazillion pieces.

My watch. I had it on. Very slowly and very carefully so as to not cause any motion in the bed I reached my arm up, with still shaking fingers I flicked the button to display the time. Its display read: 'Friday, May 27, 4:17am'.

Slowly and over time my heart rate returned to near normal, my breathing slowed considerably, I'd stopped shaking violently though I was still quivering, and my legs would occasionally twitch. Both the quivering and twitches scared me. It was a perpetual cycle.

I was lying flat on my stomach under mounds of pillows and blankets. I HAD TO PEE. I would be killed dead if I peed their bed – although I seriously thought about doing the deed since they weren't home, and wouldn't be home, at least, if their calendar was correct.

"This is crazy." I quietly muttered under my breath, hoping nobody would hear me, especially the monster from the sky... yet at the same time I hoped someone had heard me so that they could hold me tight, whisper the right things in my ear to squelch the terror I was experiencing.

The "This is crazy" won out. I even tried peeing but it wouldn't release no matter how hard I tried. The only sounds heard under that maze were my grunts trying to make it happen and I was only able to eke out a small puffy fart – which quickly drove me from under the covers and onto the floor on my feet. I realized I was drenched wet... but the water droplets were not from the wind and rain, rather I was sweating profusely in the cool damp air.

My windows!

"Nope. Fuck it."

Stealthily but quickly, as if some monster was following me, I scampered into the bathroom, slammed the door shut then locked it securely. I then stood still like a statue, listening for, feeling with a whole mumble jumble of thoughts and ideas running through my mind – such as what would I do if the door flew inward, if it flew outward, if it opened slowly, if it opened quickly... what would I do? Nothing, not a sound could be heard... and I was damn well listening, that's for sure.

Almost afraid to move, yet knowing I had to move, very slowly I reached my hands out, became hyper-aware of where my feet were located, and where they were going. They took me to the toilet. I dared not sit down for fear the monster could come up from the sewer pipes and grab my ass and haul it into the bowels of the earth, or wherever it was that monsters took their prey.

Very carefully, I took hold of my dick, aimed it between my knees, dribbled a little bit just for testing purposes... but caution was thrown to the wind as the overwhelming need to pee overshadowed all else. I tensed up because I could not hear anything over the noise of the huge stream exiting my flaccid penis. As soon as the last dribble fell I dared to reach across the bowl, and in one fell swoop slammed the lid down, hoping against all hope to keep the monster at bay. I then backed away from the monster keeper, one step at a time until I shrieked because something had touched my back and butt. I turned to run but ran headlong into the closed and locked door. Shit. They were right after all: I was a dumb fucking kid. Albeit, a very scared kid but a dumb fucking kid all at the same time.

I slid down the door to the floor where I huddled and held my knees with my arms. Then I felt cool air coming from under the door and against my butt... my mind went into overdrive... surely if air could pass under then so could a claw talon. I crawled into the bathtub after gathering all of the towels in the vanity and tossing them in. No, I had no plans to lay on them rather I'd use them to cover me up, to hide me.

I found my penis, stroked it and stroked it again just enough to get it hard. From my other hand I stuck my thumb in my mouth, sucked, and in my reversion to infancy fell into a deep, deep sleep.

The sound of a phone ringing in the hallway brought me up from slumber land and into a whole new world. The towels had made their way up around my neck and were covering my face and head from the fright I'd experienced during the night. The phone kept ringing and ringing and ringing... I counted 17 rings in total. Then it was quiet.

Then it started ringing again. 18. 19. 20. Quiet.

My face was plastered against the bathtub floor, hugging it tightly, as if that stainless steel were my lifesaver, and my life giver. Surely the monster hadn't visited because it couldn't bite through the hard material, could it? No. All toes attached. All fingers present. Penis, present. Legs, present. No claw marks. No torn flesh. Hair intact. Even my 4 pubes, present and accounted for. The only damage was to my nerves. They were shredded worse than any talon could ever think of.

When I tossed the towels aside the world took on a different meaning through appearance. Gone was total blackness. It had been replaced by tendrils of light shining through the high on the wall window opposite the bathtub/shower.

I dared to sit up, to open the shower door and then to actually peer outside the tub enclosure. Everything appeared to be normal save for the toilet lid which was hanging catawampassed on its hinges.

(Note: Catawampassed is a red-necked term meaning something that is hanging precariously in a most unnatural position. Catawampassed. Just thought I'd throw that in for trivia. James.)

I didn't think there was anything funny about the way that toilet lid was perched. My mind went back to the early morning events at 4:17am. My immediate first thought was that the monster had indeed tried to eat the lid; its head probably made its way through the pipe at the precise moment that I'd retreated.

I chanced a look toward my male parts. They were still present... in fact I'd grown 2 more tiny, thin and black pubic hairs. My stark raving fear had probably pushed them out.

(Another note from me: Thunderstorms still scare the hell out of me. But I've gotten a little bit better at riding them out... mainly because Kevin and Eric are even more afraid of them than I am. You can bet at least two and usually the 3 of us are huddled under mom and dad's bed during the worst (they're all worse, what am I saying?) storms. James.)

The phone began ringing again.

Seeing that the coast was clear, at least in the bathroom, I went to the door, listened carefully for any sign of malevolent creature. Hearing nothing over the damn bell I opened the door, peered up and down the hallway, twice, and then lunged for the phone and picked up the receiver from its cradle.

"Hello." (I was pleased to hear my voice worked, albeit hoarsely).

It was She. She was ranting and raving, obviously still drunk from the night, or morning, before or presently.

I listened to her rant and rave for maybe a minute, no more, until I'd had my fill. I shouted in the phone, as I was slamming the receiver down onto its cradle, "YOU BITCH! YOU MESS EVERYTHING UP!"

Great, just great. A fucked up night just turned into a fucked up day. Son of a bitch.

I went back to my safe haven where without a worry in the world lifted the fractured toilet from its moorings, aimed my still flaccid dick into the hole and let loose with a stream of yellow liquid to be proud of.

I flushed the toilet hoping against hope to drown and wash the monster down the drain and on out into the next millennium.

The house was no longer cold. It was rapidly heating up, even at that early hour of the morning.



I looked at my watch. It read: 'Friday, May 27, 5:45am'.

"Okay, I've got time." I said to myself after finding a voice to speak from.

Quietly, warily I walked to the door into my room. The covers were strewn across the bed and onto the floor. They were soaked to the core. My window, the lecherous window was wide open just as I'd left it the night before. I looked around the door jamb just to 'make sure'. Seeing nothing out of order I went to my bed, patted it and found the sheets and mattress to be fully soaked.

Great. Just fucking great.

I tore off the covers, wadded them all up and took them into the kitchen where I tossed them in front of the dungeon door, not daring myself to go down those stairs, not for a million dollars, and not to save my life.

I returned to my room but before I got there the goddamned phone rang just as I was walking by. I surely jumped 15 feet into the air, and my heart felt like it was going to pop out of my chest and explode.

I pulled the receiver from the cradle then slammed it down hoping against hope that it too would shatter just as the toilet lid hinges had. The phone just took the abuse... but it was quiet again.

I sat the floor fan toward my bed and flicked on the switch... nothing. I checked the plug in. It was secure. "Oh yeah, the power is off. What a dumb ass!"

I closed the window down tight. The sky looked like rain; in fact when I looked out the closed window it was indeed raining buckets.

I needed to get out of the house, away from the telephone, away from the city... yet I knew I couldn't go anywhere because of the blinding rain coming down from the clouds.

Naked, I went to the kitchen table and sat down as hard as I could. The tears started flowing but I would not let myself cry out my frustrations, anger and resentment. I pounded the table with all my strength until I had to stop because I was spent.

When I calmed down I went to refrigerator to get a glass of orange juice but the carton was empty. She who bitched and cussed and ranted and raved about my stupidity of doing that very same thing came ringing into my ears, both of them. I tossed the carton into the overflowing trash container, another thing she bitches about.

Defeated, I pulled the trash bag out, tied it, and then without a care in the world I took it to the garage, let myself in then tossed it with the rest of the bags that would have be put to the curb the following day. The rain was fucking cold. It was then I realized I was naked. Whatever the fuck. I didn't care at that point in time.

From the detached garage I heard the phone ringing. It rang 12 times then stopped. "Fuck you anyway, I didn't want to talk to you, bitch."

The rain started coming down hard, really hard, and it was being wind driven. Just then a flash of light shattered the semi-tranquil state of affairs. I hit the floor and slammed the small garage door shut. I laid there breathing raggedly, shallowly, and shaking with my hands covering my face and ears until the thunder stopped crashing all around me.

The thunder was replaced by the phone ringing again. The sperm donor had long ago removed the phone extension from the garage yet left the bell thingy. She was bitching him out, accusing him that he was talking to a girlfriend so instead of holding his ground he caved. He got angry and sullen after that but instead of screaming and yelling and taking it out on me he took it out on himself by being quiet, lonely and withdrawn.

As it happened before, the phone stopped ringing. The rain settled into a more manageable level. I got up off the floor, opened the door but a crack, looked out and when things seemed okay I made a mad dash for the kitchen door, entered the house, and slammed the door shut and locked it – as if locking it would keep the lightning and thunder outside where it belonged. A gentle, soaking rain took over. The thunder and lightning was gone.

Not 5 minutes later while I was still figuring out what to do next, the phone rang again. I walked to the stand, picked it up and calmly and deliberately, "F-u-c-k YOU! Leave me the fuck alone!" I continued saying that to an empty telephone but just as I was about to scream in the phone I heard Adam's voice calling my name over and over again.

Tears sprang from my eyes like a flower watering can sprinkling life sustaining water into young plants. Choking back my emotions but not quite succeeding, I said, "I'm sorry. I thought... I'm sorry... I didn't mean to say... I'm sorry..."

Adam kept reassuring me that everything was okay, that he was not taking the words I'd said into the phone as personal toward him. He talked me down from my fright and terror. Just his words – they were reassuring. He told me to not move, that he was on his way, and would be at my house, their house to be more correct, within 30 minutes.

I did just that... I did not move, other than to hang the phone on its cradle.

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