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The Light

By and © Joe Writer Man

Chapter 3

I got my shit together, put on underwear and jeans and then headed down to Peter's house. He answered on the first knock, "Come on in. It's good to see you. I just got out of the shower and put the first thing I saw on."

At first, I was taken aback by the obviously female full length paper thin house coat hanging loosely from his shoulders. Water was draining across the slightly but noticeable lopsided smile on his face from his dripping head of hair.

Immediately, though, what stood out the most were the red, blotchy, slightly swollen bruises on his puffy cheeks and jaws.

It's good to see you too ... what happened to your face?" I asked concernedly.

"Ah well, I'm a klutz. Did I tell you that?" Peter giggled half-heartedly and then stepped back allowing me access to the entry way to his house which seemed pretty similar to our own.

Too quickly he added "Oh hey man, I'm just a klutz, and well, I fell going up the stairs. I'm weird like that you know. Most people fall down stairs while I tend to do exactly the opposite."

"Do you want something to drink? We have Coke, tea, orange juice or water."

"A Coke's fine, thanks."

"No prob."

He went over to the refrigerator, bent down to get a Coke from a box on the floor, plunked some ice cubes into a glass then brought them over and sat it down on the table where I was sitting. He headed back over to the refrigerator, opened the door and then poured himself a large glass of orange juice.

I opened my Coke. Immediately, its contents spewed and sprayed all over me, the table and the floor.

"Shit, shit, shit, I'm sorry. Do you have some paper towels so I can wipe the mess up?"

He quickly got the roll of paper towels from its dispenser, "I'll get it. Here are a couple for you. It's all in your hair ... I'm sorry. I told you I was the klutz from hell."

"Peter, I'm sorry, it was my fault, I should have known it would have spewed since it was warm. Thanks." I said after taking two paper towels he offered to me.

Together we wiped the mess up as good as we could and then he went and got a mop, wet it down, wrung it out and began thoroughly mopping the floor with it while I went to the sink and wet a kitchen towel and wiped down the table.

Satisfied with the results, Peter said "Okay, let me go up and throw some clothes on."

"Want some company?"

"It's all good. I'll just be a second or two, but yeah, if you want to." Peter said in a tone that made me believe he really did not want me to come up however he was being polite to not leave me alone.

Following him up the stairs, I could not help but to notice he was walking up them like an old man would, woodenly almost.

When we got to his room he walked over to his dresser and retrieved a raggedy pair of white brief underwear, a pair of holey socks and then went to his closet selecting a pair of jeans and a long sleeved Adidas shirt to dress for the day in.

"I'll be just a minute." Peter said and left for the bathroom across the hallway.

Coming out a couple of minutes later he said "Okay, all done. Let's go get something to eat if there is anything that is."

Feeling as though something malevolent was lingering in the pit of my stomach, I reached over and turned the light on. When it illuminated, Peter looked at me and it was then that I noticed the true extent of the bruises to his face and gasped.

Going over to him and inspecting his eye that appeared to be more puffy than before, I saw that the sclera of his eyes were beginning the early stages of having blood in it.

Distraught and alarmed, I said "Peter, what the fuck man, that don't come from falling up stairs, or down them for that matter. What's wrong?"

"Don't worry about it, it'll be okay. I fell and knocked the fuck out of myself. Come on let's go get something for lunch."

Just as I was reaching for him to give him a hug, his cell phone rang, "Hello, Jamison residence, this is Peter."

"Yes ma'am."

"No ma'am. I'm sitting here chilling between chores. They are coming along good."

"Yes ma'am. I'll do that next."

"Okay mom. Good bye, I'll see you in a while. Love you."

After terminating the call, he said with disappointment clearly showing on his face, "Sorry, David, that was my mom. She wanted to know what I was doing, and if my chores were done, and what my next chores were going to be."

"Should I leave?"

"Uhm yeah, sorry about that, she'll be home soon but I don't know when exactly."

"Take good care of yourself and call me when you can, okay?"

"I'm sorry, David." Peter said with what appeared to be tears gathering in the corner of his puffy eye.

"It's okay. Don't worry about it. I'm just glad to see you again. Don't be a stranger, okay?" I said then walked over to him with every intention of giving him a hug but he flinched so I stopped briefly and then went on up to him anyway, "Can I hug you, Peter? A guy hug, I don't mean anything weird..."

"Yeah, okay, I'd like that. Please. Keep it light though, I'm really sore from falling."

"Okay." I said closing the gap between us. Slowly and gently, we joined and lightly hugged. Immediately, I could tell he was in great physical discomfort from my light squeeze on his waist.

Raising our arms a little bit, we then embraced but as I put some pressure on his ribs, he audible winced and then melted into me. He wasn't going anywhere so I relaxed my hold.

Automatically, instinctively, we looked deeply into each others' eyes then it happened. Our lips touched lightly together, not urgently at first but instead they just touched and we held it there for a few seconds. Soon though, our kiss became more than just a kiss, it became more urgent and then it became passion filled. My body shuddered slightly as my stirrings were desperately wanting to escape my shorts. Peter's reaction was similar and then he said "Go home, David. Truth is I'm not supposed to have any company. She does not know that you are here, so please leave now before she gets home, I'm sorry."

Seemingly on auto pilot and unable to stop we kissed again, that time much more passionately. Unable to resist, my hands were working on their own, I ran my hands up and under his t-shirt and then pulled him in to me even more close; he was likewise pulling me into him however, at the same time, he noticeably winced from pain and discomfort caused by our deep embrace.

"Go home David. We can't get caught."

That said, he stepped out of and away from my arms. He had tears rolling down his cheeks and onto his t-shirt. Very much curious and very concerned, I went to him and brazenly raised his t-shirt up to his chin and then gasped in shock at seeing the very deep black and blue bruises on his chest and belly and sides and upper arms.

"My God what happened to you? Turn around, let me see your back." I cried as tears immediately sprang from my eyes and rolled down my own cheeks and on down onto my shirt.

"Go. I'll be okay. Just go. I'll call you soon." He said with tears running down his own cheek now unchecked. He hiccupped and then shuddered a small restrained sob but he briefly turned around and showed me his back. It was bruised and had streaks of red on it as if he had been whipped with some narrow and sharp object.

Just as quickly, he lowered his shirt, took my hand and then quickly led us downstairs where he stopped at the front door, pulled me into a deep and passionate kiss and when we broke it, "I'll call ya. Just give me a couple of days. I should get off of grounding then."

Unable to resist, I reached in and gave him a quick peck on the lips and then headed on back home.


Okay, maybe I am gay, I've just never really thought about it except when I was in that church back in Missouri where they repeatedly preached that only certain people were loved by God, and therefore we should exclude those people from our lives in the name of saving our souls, but, I've just never really thought about saying that to myself. Not that I am at all attracted to every swinging dick that walks the planet, it is just that Peter gets to me, is all.

Arriving home and after determining that Dad & Jeremy were out, I went upstairs, got dressed in my usual attire which is nothing, and then went to my bed, laid down with all intentions to relieve myself of the built up jizz in my balls but instead became overcome with emotion after visions of Peter being hurt like he was came flooding into my head and heart.

As the sadness waned I began thinking of him as a person and how I would like to get to know him better, and I mean truly know him. Something, everything about him as I got to thinking, was truly captivating... deeper, deeper, deeper my mind went into a meditative state as I felt his arms around me holding me tighter and tighter and tighter ... my eyes flew open as wide as they could and then they slammed shut as a colossal wave of pleasure slammed my mind and body over and over and over again until the feelings ebbed and a sense of peace and tranquility overtook me.

The next thing I recall was waking up, or coming to, peaceful and serene, and I was wondering what had happened. As my eyes fluttered open, the bright sunshine was shining through the floor length glass windows and a light breeze was blowing across my body - it was or felt like it was blowing through my soul.

When my mind cleared, the breeze felt exceptionally cool on my chest and belly. Looking down, I saw those areas covered in varying states of drying semen. I reached up to scratch an itch on my face and found the source of it to be dried cum, and it extended up into my hair. It was sticky and gooey.

I hated to break the spell but I needed to pee, and it could not wait. I got up, grabbed my crutches and then headed off to the door of my room on the way to the bathroom but stopped and looked out the window hoping to catch a glimpse. He was out on his patio, I couldn't tell what he was doing though. His mother was on the patio too. She was waving her arms at him. I picked up the binoculars and focused them in. She was screaming at him, pointing her finger in his face and then she slapped him and went back into the house.

My bowels clinched up tight, as did my fists, "I'll get you for that you fucking bitch, so help me I will if it is the last thing I ever do." I muttered under my breath with a surge of anger that I had never felt before.

Peter went on about his business of cleaning their rock garden.

With utter resolve in my heart and in my head, I put down the binoculars and headed into the bathroom to take care of urgent matters. Midstream, my cell phone began ringing but I was in no position to stop the urine from cascading into the bowl and out of my body. "Ahhh what a relief that is!" I exclaimed loudly.

After washing my hands, I returned to my room to see who had called. The caller ID indicated Allen had called and then texted me saying he was online. He was indeed online.

He lives over on Oahu. We had met at a surf competition a couple of years prior to my cancer diagnosis and we had just really hit it off, becoming best of friends. When I had to leave competition, we more or less lost touch because we do not get over there that often now, and well, our lives just do not intermingle too much.

Allen ... Whazzup?

Me ...Nutten much. How's it hanging?

Allen... Hanging loose.

Me ... Kewl. Me too.

Allen ... How is your dad?

Me ... Okay. Not too much on my nerves, ha.

Allen ... Ha haa. Jeremy?

Me ... Yeah, they are kewl. I'm lucky. How's the 'rents?

Allen ... Yeah. My dad is such a control freak.

Allen ... Sorry man, I forgot.

Me ... No prob.

Allen ... Hey man, that's good.

Me ... thanks man. I was pretty mental. Like you, ha.

Allen ... fuck you man, ha.

Me ... would be your best one ever.

Allen ... Nah. I've got Angel. He's way kewl. We're forever.

Me ... I think I am too.

Allen ... What?

Me ... I met this guy.

Allen ... Nah. Not you too? <giggles>

Me ... Probably. Yeah.

Allen ... what's his name? Does he have one? <giggles>

Me ... Pervert. His name is Peter. Lives next door.

Allen ... kewl. You guys done it yet?

Me ... Nah. Well, not together anyway <laughs>.

Allen ... Hot eh?

Me ... hella yeah. Fuck yeah. He's hurt though.

Allen ... huh?

Me ... his mom is mental. Hut mental.

Allen ... damn.

Me ... yeah. no shit.

Allen ... can you do anything?

Me ... I'm gonna talk to dad.

Allen ... good.

Me ... yah. I wanna kick her ass.

Allen ... Don't go to jail <laughs>

Me ... I would. In a NYS.

Allen ... fuck.

Me ... gotta scoot. Good talkin at ya.

Allen ... be good.

Me ... always

Allen ... hugz

Me ... same to ya. Laters.

Allen ... bye

Me ... bye

Hard again, I took it in my hand then started to just look at it carefully after jacking it a couple of times to get it at its maximum size. Sheesh. I mean I got a pretty good looking dick. It's cut and has that little scar around the head of it, just below the corona (learned that in Health Class by the way). So I reached down and turned my dick head around to see if the scar ran the entire circumference. It was.

Ever feel those ridges like things that run up and down your dick? I explored those and gawd that felt good. I mean, I thoroughly ran my fingers up and down the shaft clear down to my balls.

After stroking it a couple more times, I got the tape measure from my desk drawer and measured it and found it was still 5 ½ inches.

All of those touches brought me to that point where I needed to jack off yet again, so I grabbed it firmly and stroke it more seriously. This time I did not stop and soon blew another load all over my computer keyboard and then dribbled the remaining in my hand.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

Reaching into my desk drawer a second time, I retrieved the bottle of screen cleaner then proceeded to dismantle the keyboard and clean it up. It worked.

Four days later Peter called and after a short conversation he was okay with coming up here to spend the afternoon since his mom had left and said she would be out until evening time, perhaps even the next day.

I tossed on a pair of running shorts and a loose t-shirt and shortly after going downstairs, Peter rang the doorbell. After disarming the alarm system, I let him in. He gave me a quick kiss, one that I readily returned, "Hey, how is it hanging, Peter your face?"

"Okay, I guess." Peter said quietly.

"You okay? You don't look it."

The bruises were even more pronounced on his face than they were just a few days ago.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Whatcha want to do?" Peter said quickly trying to deflect my inquiries away from him.

"I don't know. I don't much care. What do you want to do?"

"Can we, I mean may we play the Wii?"

"Let's do it then."

We played for probably four hours, just having fun, bumping into each other every now and again.

"Let's head down to the pool. You gave me quite a work out! I'm all sweaty now."

"I didn't bring a suit though."

"I usually go skinny dipping. You can too, it's no big deal. We are both guys." I replied then added "Of course, if you would rather wear something, that's fine, I can too. No problem either way." I said as several emotions washed over his face ... panic? Fear? Yeah, fear. No, both.

"Thanks. Can we wear suits then? I'm sorry."

"No problem."

I walked over to my dresser and pulled out a red string bikini and then tossed it to Peter. He caught it, looked at it briefly and then said "I can't wear that, David. But thanks anyway."

"That's my favorite. It is clean too, ha haa. I have a brief bikini if that would be better."

"Uhm, no, I need to wear something more than those cover. Sorry. I'll just go home. Thanks anyway."

"I have a pair of boardies that my grandmother gave me. It should fit you as we appear to wear about the same size, I've never worn it."

"Okay, yeah that will work. Where can I change?"

"We are both guys, you can change here, or the bathroom is free too. Whatever or wherever you feel more comfortable."

"I'll use the bathroom, if it's okay."

"No problem. I'll change up while you are in there."

"Okay. Kewl."

Peter went into the bathroom, closed the door then shortly afterwards I heard the toilet flush, the sink run and out he came in those boardies. Normally, I do not like boardies, but Peter looked mighty fine in them.

"They fit you perfectly." The words oozed out of my mouth.

"They feel fine too. Thanks." He replied.

After deciding to wear the string I paid a contribution to the sewer system, flushed and pulled myself into that itty bitty suit. Dang, I hate to wear these things, I much prefer to just free ball it wherever and whenever I can, but hey I do not want to embarrass Peter or make him uncomfortable.

Walking back into my bedroom, Peter was surfing the net using my computer and jumped when I came in and then sat down on my bed. He X'ed out quickly and then looked at me sheepishly.

"Whatcha looking at?"

"Oh nothing. I'm done now. I should not have been on it without your permission." He said turning around to look at me. His eyes went as big as saucers when he saw the string I was wearing, probably more important was what I was wearing inside the string, or it seemed anyway. But he quickly moved his gaze up into my eyes, once again looking deep into my soul, or so I thought - and felt.

"It is no problem, feel at home here, anything I have is yours too, don't worry about it."

I walked over to him, pulled him up ... and he winced. And he winced, bad. And I mean really bad.

"Wait. Let me get up by myself." He croaked out.

Soon he was standing in front of me. I stepped up in front of him and gently pulled him into me holding him gently.

"Hey bud. I'm here. What's wrong?"

"I can't talk about it now. Maybe later, okay?"

"Sure. Just remember I'm here for you."

"Okay." Peter said looking down to a spot on the floor.

Gently, I put my thumb under his chin and lifted his head up where we just stood there looking into each other's eyes. We had come together as one and we kissed, just a light kiss, not all wild passion filled, yet it was extremely passionate at the same.

As we parted, I became aware that my dick was about half-hard and as it strained the fabric of the string holding my bits in, I noticed that my right nut had fell out of the gap between my thigh and my ball sac. Quickly adjusting myself to where things were covered up, I said "You ready?"

"Okay." Peter quietly replied and he followed me out but not before I heard him take in a deep breath and let out a sigh as I led the way down the stairs.

Arriving at the pool after fixing drinks to take out with us, "Peter, you need to take your shirt off because if you don't the fabric will get into the pool filters. Those filters are a pain in the ass to change and clean out."

"Uhm, I guess I will sit out and just watch you swim if that is okay. I don't want to take my shirt off, okay, please?"

"Whatever you want to do, whatever is more comfortable for you is just fine. You have nothing to be ashamed of, nothing at all. You will not be made fun of around here. I've been through a lot in the past year or more. Nobody has made fun of me except for those morons out in town who had not seen a freaky freak before."

"STOP CALLING YOURSELF A GODDAMNED FREAK!!!!!!" Peter yelled with bugged out eyes. His body was in a fighting stance, I was somewhat afraid, I felt afraid of him, yet I didn't.

"Peter, dude. Chill out willya? Just chill, please." I said back calmly, but assuredly.

"Just don't ever call yourself a freak again, okay? I can't help it, it just freaks me out."

I started giggling and then the giggles quickly turned into a full-out laughing fit. I couldn't help it. The rolls of laugher just fell out, and I could not stop them.

"What's so funny?" Peter asked incredulously.

"So my freaky freak comment freaked you out?" I said laughing so hard that I fell backwards into the pool ... and panicked.

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