Boarding School (44 page)

“Could be.” Joe wasn’t always jovial. On this day he seemed distant, as if there were something on his mind which was more pressing to him than answering a bunch of foolish questions from a couple of kids. We had been around him enough by this time to know when he was tired of talking with us. So after my friend had turned around and looked at me for a moment as I sat there in the middle of the back seat, Matt then turned his body forward again so he could look once more through the windshield. These days we were able to communicate so much with each other with just a look. On this occasion Matt had told me with his eyes and with the expression on his face that he figured we needed to cool it for a while with the questions and I had replied through my eyes that I agreed. And so neither of us said another word until we arrived an hour and a half or so later in Providence.

Soon after we hit town, Joe stopped for a few minutes at some little Italian place so we could pick up a couple of pizzas to take with us. The customer himself lived in a small one-story frame house in the middle of a neighborhood that was crammed full of more little houses that all looked the same to us. It was shortly after dark when Joe finally pulled his Cadillac into the guy’s driveway.

“When did you boys eat last?” With a half-empty bottle of beer in his hand, the man seemed worried about something when the three of us walked in through his front door.

“Not since lunch,” I replied.

A look of relief then came over the man’s face. “Oh good,” he sighed. “In that case, take your pizzas into the kitchen and put them in the oven for now. Then set the oven on warm, grab yourselves a couple of beers out of the fridge and then come back into the family room and watch some TV for a while. I want us all to get drunk first.”

Without missing a step, Matt and I did as we were told and continued on into the man’s kitchen. We didn’t know right off where his kitchen was, but because the place was so small it wasn’t too hard for us to figure out.

“So I’ll be back tomorrow at noon, then. Right?” Joe wanted to make sure that the two of them agreed on the arrangements that Fatso had made with this man before he left us for the night.

“Right. Noon,” the customer replied.

“All right. That’s fine,” Joe confirmed. “And remember… no damage. Right?”

“Right,” the customer responded. “No damage. I promise.”

Matt and I were able to hear this exchange all the way into the kitchen. As I opened the oven door for Matt so he could slide our pizzas in, he asked me a question. “Why do you think that Joe’s worried about us being damaged?”

“I don’t know,” I answered as I closed the oven door and turned on the heat. “He doesn’t look familiar to me. Do you recognize him?”

“I can’t tell yet,” Matt replied as he opened the guy’s refrigerator and pulled out a couple of bottles of beer for us. “I don’t think he’s one of the guys from Worcester, at least.”

“Oh,” I reacted with some surprise. I hadn’t considered this possibility. “Well, that’s a relief.” I then took the beer that Matt was handing to me and pulled off the cap with an opener I had found lying nearby on the guy’s kitchen counter. Immediately after that I began to guzzle down my beer.

My roommate followed my lead by taking a few long drinks from his bottle, and then it was time for us to leave the kitchen. Together we returned to the man’s family room and looked around as soon as we got there for his television set. Right away it seemed evident to us both that our customer for this weekend was a person who lived by himself. The place was filthy and his furniture looked as if it had all been discarded by the Salvation Army. There was an old beat-up Lazy Boy by the front window and a couch which straddled the center of the room and faced the back wall where the television was resting on a couple of planks of wood which were propped up off the floor by cinder blocks. Other than a couple of lamps, a coffee table and an end table that had been shoved up against the left side of the couch, there was nothing else in this guy’s entire house other than the mattress, box springs and small chest of drawers he had in his single bedroom.

“I guess we sit on the couch,” Matt concluded.

“Yeah, I guess so,” I agreed. So I walked over and turned on the TV, selected a channel for us to watch and then together we sat down on the man’s sad-looking couch.

“Jeeze,” Matt remarked as soon as we were settled. “This blanket I’m sitting on is covering up a hole in the fabric.”

“Well you better not say anything about it,” I cautioned.

Suddenly from behind we heard the man’s voice again. “Ok, boys, stand up and take off all your clothes now.” Our host then rushed over to the front window and drew the curtains shut. By this time Joe had left, which meant we were now under the charge of this strange man.

“What’s your name?” Matt asked as we rose to our feet again.

“You can call me Bob,” our host answered as he began to undo his jeans. “From now on until you guys leave tomorrow, I want you two to always be naked.” The man was now standing before us in his boxers. “And don’t worry about getting cold or anything. I turned up the hear a while ago to eighty-five so we ought to be plenty warm tonight.”

As Matt and I began to take off our school blazers and ties, I did notice suddenly that it was pretty warm in this house already.
Oh great,
I thought.
Another guy who wants to stare at our naked bodies all night.

“No wait!” Bob made us stop what we were doing as he pulled his T-shirt off over his head. “Take turns taking each other’s clothes off.”

And so Matt and I continued by going through the tedious process of peeling off one article of clothing at a time from the other’s body until finally all three of us were naked and staring at each other.

“Ok. You boys can sit down now and go back to drinking your beers.” Bob then left us alone for a bit so he could go take care of something in the kitchen.

“Horse,” Matt said to me in a low voice after he was sure we were alone again.

“Yeah, no kidding,” I answered back. Because it helped us to determine in advance the level of pain we were likely facing, we had developed a three-tiered ranking system to describe how well endowed our customer for the moment happened to be. Horse, sheep or ameba were how we classified the men. Even though this guy was short and thin, he was fairly muscular and his genitalia looked huge to us. This meant that if he elected to give it to us in our asses, it was going to be painful. So both of us began to drink our beers with a greater sense of urgency. We knew from experience that the drunker we were, the less the pain would seem to bother us.

“Good! I ‘m glad to see you guys are drinking your beers. Here’s two more for you when you finish the ones you’re working on.” After reappearing suddenly in the family room, Bob placed two more opened bottles of beer on the coffee table in front of us, and then he walked over to the Lazy Boy and sat down. “Let me know when you boys are finished with those new ones and I’ll go get you some more. The less movin’ around you two do, the sooner you’ll get drunk.”

So for the next forty-five minutes or so, Matt and I did nothing other than sit on this man’s couch and drink his beer. Since we didn’t get to watch television very often, sitting and watching TV should have been a treat for us. But all we could think about as we felt the alcohol slowly dull our senses was the bulk of this guy’s penis and what in the world it was that he was intending to do with it.

“Look at me,” Bob called out suddenly once Matt and I had made it about halfway through our fourth beers.

Unevenly and with some weaving in our movements, we complied with the man’s wishes and turned our heads to look to our left.

“Yup,” he decided. “You two look pretty far gone now. Ok then, I want you boys to start kissing each other,” he ordered.

This was a problem. When I turned my head back and looked at my roommate, I saw the same look of horror on his face that I’m sure he saw on mine. This wasn’t the same as kissing Sweetie or even as it was when we were kissing our way down a customer’s abdomen to give him a blow job as we each had to do with the man in New York. This was the real thing. Of all the intimate acts that we had been forced to do, we had never been required to kiss each other. It was always understood that all of the things we had been trained to do at the Academy were nothing more than sex because kissing was different. Kissing meant love. And love wasn’t what any of this crap was about.

“Come on, start kissing each other. And do it good too. You know… French kissing.”

Apparently the unwritten rules about how we were supposed to conduct ourselves were unknown to this guy. Even so, there was one thing we knew for certain which outweighed all of our other considerations. Disobeying a customer, short of refusing to do something that would put our safety in peril, was not permitted. On top of that, our host for this weekend was sounding pretty gruff to us by now and neither of us wanted to risk the raising of this guy’s ire. On many occasions we had learned the hard way that an angry customer was often a dangerous customer. So with great reluctance, Matt and I placed our bottles on the coffee table in front of us, and then we leaned into each other until our lips were touching.

“Come on… get into it!” Bob was clearly wanting us to put on a show for him.

And so Matt and I began to kiss each other in earnest. “Come on. French style, guys. Use those tongues.”

Immediately after that, I felt Matt’s tongue enter my mouth and so I slid my tongue into his. In no time we were putting on the performance that this customer was demanding of us. We continued this way for a short while and after a bit—I figured it was because of the fact that we were drunk—we didn’t seem to be as bothered by what we were doing any longer. So another line, apparently, was now being crossed.

“Let’s go! Put your hands up around each other’s heads and really go at it. Mash those lips and bodies together.”

So we did as we were ordered. A moment later I had my hands in Matt’s hair and he had placed his hands in mine as we pulled our bodies together and kissed as if it really meant something to us. And in an example of how emotions can sometimes follow actions, I discovered suddenly that there was a tenderness within my friend which was spurring me on to be even more relaxed and passionate with him. Matt must have felt the same way about me because I noticed at this same instant how all that was my friend seemed to melt within my embrace. It was amazing, but we were happy now to stay this way. Each of us giving and each of us taking in equal measure a closeness that was well beyond anything we had felt toward each other during our late night together in the shower or from any other experience we had shared up until this moment.

“Ok, that’s enough,” Bob commanded.

Instantly Matt and I released one another and quickly wiped our mouths off with our hands in an effort to assure ourselves that the feelings we had just shared for each other had never really happened. We were both too embarrassed at the time to admit it, but to this day I’m convinced that we succeeded in reaching each other that night on the deepest possible level emotionally.

Bob then stood up and walked toward us. He came to a halt when he reached the end table. “Ok, you with the black hair. Stand up and come over here.”

With his hand still holding onto mine, Matt then stood up.

“Over here. In front of me, son,” Bob urged.

As he stepped past me to walk toward our host, it was easy to see that my roommate was having a bit of trouble now in keeping his balance.

“And you… Blonde. Turn the TV off and then you can sit there on the couch and watch us.”

It was now my turn to attempt to navigate my way through this guy’s family room. My biggest challenge, I soon discovered, was the coffee table. Both times I had to pass it, the thing seemed to make a serious attempt to jump out and hit me on the side of my legs. In my inebriated state, I nearly didn’t make it but in another moment the TV was turned off and I was safe once again on the man’s couch.

“Here I am,” Matt said in his drunk voice once he was standing next to our host. He was clearly impaired by this stage of the evening.

“Yes you are,” Bob replied with a hint of excitement in his voice. He then reached forward and opened a drawer in the end table and pulled out a large jar of Vaseline.

“Oh,” Matt remarked when he saw what Bob had placed on the table in front of him. “My mom used to put that on my chest when I had a cold. Or was it that Vic’s Vapor… something?” Matt’s mind always seemed to wander when he was really drunk.

Oh shit!
I thought. In our experience we had learned that Vaseline had only one use for Academy kids.

“Yeah well, it’s goin’ on another one of your parts tonight.” The man then unscrewed the lid and with two fingers from his right hand scooped out a large hunk of the jell. Then Bob placed his left hand on Matt’s back at the base of his neck and guided the boy over to stand directly in front of him so that when Matt had stopped moving, the both of them were facing me. Bob then placed both of his hands on the outsides of Matt’s shoulders and shook him gently for a few moments. “Ok, now relax and close your eyes,” Bob said softly.

As loosened up as he already was from the alcohol, Matt complied with the man’s wishes without uttering another word.

“Just relax.” And with that, Bob pulled Matt’s body backward until my friend was standing off balance a bit and resting his back against the front of this guy’s body. Then, with his right hand, Bob reached around and began to apply the Vaseline to Matt’s penis. “Keep your eyes closed and just enjoy this,” he said. And then Bob began to manipulate the boy.

In no time our host had managed to cause Matt’s penis to become engorged. And it didn’t take long before the stoking movements his hand was making on my friend caused Matt to vocalize the pleasure he was feeling.

“Ah… Mmh… Mmh… Ohhh… Hahh… Ah… Ah… Mmmh…” There was no question that this man now had control over my roommate’s body and mind.

Actually, this whole setup didn’t look so bad to me. As I watched the blissful expression on my friend’s face, I was hoping that our host was planning to do the same for me next.