The Milky Bar Kid

"Speak to me, Rossy. How's you're little cousin doing, fella?" I could hear his voice plainly, but mine, when I tried to answer just seemed to get caught in my throat. I was aware of the tickling and stinging advancing up my calf – up, and up over my pulled-down shorts. The insides of my thighs were next to get the 'Arnie' treatment. I had no willpower, no real desire to shout out or reason with my tormentor. The tickling continued on the insides of my thighs, the nettles criss-crossing between right and left. They felt wonderfully warm and tingly and I just knew I was sporting one hell of a boner.

I heard Arnie's voice again, somewhere in the clouds. His head was a black silhouette, eclipsing the sun. I couldn't make out his features, apart from what appeared to be a pair of horn-like things protruding from the top of his head.

"You got something you wanna tell me, Rossy? Am I getting' through to you, cowboy?"

Fuck you, Arnie!

"Cat got your tongue, cowboy?"

Go screw yourself, you evil little fucker!

And then the mad tickling began, on the end of my knob, the sting, the burn, the caress. He stroked the nettles lightly up and down my shaft. It was wonderful, hot and prickly

"I know you love me, Ross. So why won't you say it?"

Maybe it's because you're fucking killing me, you numbskull.

"Say it and I'll stop."

"I-I..."

love you, Arnie, you dumb fuck. Now let's cut out of here. You have to let me go you crazy bastard...

But of course these words, apart from the stutter at the start, never made it beyond my brain.

"Okay, so you won't admit it. I'm going to have to try something else."

And then the tickling stopped. I felt a cool hand on my cock. It was almost like ice against the tingling and burning. Arnie began rubbing me, occasionally drawing my cock out to its full length. This wasn't the hand of a young kid, this was the hand of experience, the devil's hand. But how wonderful it was...

"You see, Ross, I'm going to exact revenge. You did it to me and now I'm doing it to you. Let's see how you like it!"

Big fucking deal!

And yet a massive part of me actually did like what was being done to me, and even the way it was being done. Why not? The hands were smooth and soft, manipulative and very persuasive. I was feeling quite good as Arnie stepped up the pace.

Oh, Jesus, Arnie. Please forgive him his sins, dear Lord, for he knows not what he does...

"Maybe I can make you have an orgasm too, Rossy? What do you think?"

That's a damned certainty, Kid, you carry on like that. And you're going to have a hell of a mess on your hands...

"Come on, Rossy, give it up for Arnie. Let's see what you got in the locker."

My breathing was becoming more laboured with the mounting excitement. I felt like I was sucking dust. How I wished for Arnie's wet tongue.

Then I felt the tension in my body as the moment approached. Somehow Arnie had got me there. By hook or crook, he had got me there. And I was ready to spill the beans.

But Arnie had other ideas...

He had me ready for the money shot, when he cleverly pinched the flesh together underneath my prostate.

I felt ready to gush, but somehow he had blocked it. A dry ache drifted up into my body.

Arnie waited, with the thumb and forefinger squeezing behind my scrotum, blocking the escape route of rampaging sperms. I felt the tension rise and then quickly subside in my body as Arnie controlled my orgasm's destiny. There was none.

He allowed me to calm down while he gently sucked on my pellet-like nipples. Now and again he would nip me with his large gawky teeth, and then I would allow the pain to seep into me, embrace me.

Then he started on me again, his hands doing the devils work, expertly, dexterously, leading me, teasing me, bringing me on, taking me up, letting me down.

Arnie, you are an evil little bastard!

"I could easily make you cum, Ross. But I much prefer to watch you squirm. It makes my little dick so much bigger. And that's got to be a good thing, hasn't it, my sweet, sweet cousin?"

Just finish me off, Arnie, for God's sake. I'm dying...

I was dimly aware that my shorts had started to move again. They were on the slide, past my ankles and off. Now and again I felt the dig and cut of the plastic handcuffs as they mercilessly bit into my wrists every time I shifted my weight. But even this had become a pleasurable feeling in its own strange way, vaguely erotic, the hurt, the humiliation, the helplessness, the sadism, the masochism, it was all firing me with such unbridled lust.

Arnie shuffled in closer to my crotch, his knees cleverly pushing and trapping my outstretched legs into a 'V'.

Then he once again began stroking my cock, only he kept inching his face ever closer to it. At one time I swear he was blowing on it, though only in the normal sense. It felt as if he was trying to soothe the burning and stinging. I was aware of my cock more than any other part of my body. It was as if all the sensations and feelings of the rest of my body parts had migrated to good old Moby. It felt super-sensitised, like the nettle treatment had stimulated the blood in even the tiniest, remotest vein. It was red hot, aching with lust. And then that crazy kid stepped it up another level.

First he kissed the tip, gentle as a butterfly. I felt ready to burst. But somehow Arnie seemed to be able to keep me on the verge of something, the very edge of coming. His hands moved with uncanny dexterity, up and down my shaft, teasing, tormenting, torturing. There was a terrifying hot ache in my crotch and abdomen. In my mind's eye I could see Arnie grasping me like he was holding an ice lolly or ice cream cone, licking and slurping.

And then, I swear he was blowing me for real, a warm wetness that seemed to run like melting honey up and down, up and down. I couldn't lift my head to see. I had no strength, no willpower.

And once again I felt myself approaching the finishing line. I was exhausted, but there were people waiting either side of the line this time with their hands outstretched, shouting, yelling, "Come on, Ross, you can do it. Don't give up now, you're nearly there, buddy!"

It was kind of like that dream you have when you're trying to run from something you know is terrible and your legs just won't work. It felt like I was in quicksand, or up to my waist in water. Everything was in slow-mo. Those hands were reaching out for me; they were so near, yet so far. I just couldn't get there, couldn't quite make it.

The sensations around my penis had suddenly disappeared and I heard Arnie's voice reach me from a short distance away: "I think you'd better come up right away, Auntie. Please be as quick as you can. Ross's in a whole loada trouble."

And then my mother's voice, clear and frantic as a shrieking bird: "Oh, Arnie, what on earth is the matter? What's happened? Is Ross all ri—?"

And then a jaunty three or four notes from the cell-phone as Arnie cut her off.

I'll fucking kill you, Arnie... What the fuck did you do that for..?

And then he was right on top of me again and I knew this was it. He was blowing me for real, and with the skill and softness of a Bangkok whore, not that I could've really known what that would have been like. But anyhow, it was just beautiful man. It was like I was sinking into a bed of the softest feathers.

Those hands had started reaching for me again. On the finish line, among the crowd of well-wishers, I could see Mom, Richie, Bobby, and would you believe it – Arnie too, sucking on a Milky Bar. It's full length was going in and out of his mouth, wet and slimy before it disappeared inside, and then out again, arcing threads of shining saliva in the sun.

And then just as I was almost touching the hands of everyone and my groin about to burst I heard the sound of a frantically revving V8, the sound of locked wheels spraying shingle rock and dust and a slamming door.

Somebody was running up to us, faster than I could get to the line. I could almost touch them now. A voice, my mother's voice, yelling frantically at the finish line. Or was it behind me?

Then that sensation as thousands of hands clasped me, that sensation of capitulation and projectile thrust, like the exhaust from a jet engine, except the smell wasn't kerosene. It was that strange, faint smell of ammonia that I'd been experiencing lately. I could still see Arnie, now eating the Milky Bar like his life depended on it, cheek bulging, his eyes large and hungry, like sky-blue marbles.

The rush of something from my balls and the Milky Bar exploding in Arnie's face, leaving little pearl drops shimmering on his blond eyebrows. Then the soft leaking sensation of liquid gold melting from my guts. And Mom's voice shouting at me as she grabbed me on the finish line. Her voice fading, fading, fading...

"Ross, Ross..!"

Thousands of hands grabbing me, slapping my back.

"Ross, Ross, come on... Wake up! Wake up..!"

My mother's voice getting nearer, coming back to the present. Hands on my shoulders shaking me, shaking me awake, awake, awake..!

"Come on Ross, wake up! Arnie has to get the early bus." Mom, smiling, Arnie just behind her, Goofy teeth hanging out to dry. "Had you forgotten?"

My head felt as if a truck had ran over it. "Hi, Mom. Hi, Arnie. No I hadn't forgotten."

"I was beginning to think you were never going to wake up. Now get a move-on, young man. You've less than half an hour before Arnie's bus leaves."

I dug the sleep out of my eyes and looked at Arnie. He seemed different somehow, kind of more grown-up all of a sudden. Gone was the cowboy outfit. He looked quite normal, apart from his specs, he still had those on. He was wearing Levis, trainers and a white tee-shirt - one of the good guys - one of the big guys.

"What happened to you, Arnie?"

"Huh?"

"What's with the new look? You look great, man! Sort of normal."

"Thanks."

I got out of bed and scrambled around for some clothes and started dressing.

"So what happened to the cowboy get-up?"

"Pardon, Ross?"

"The cowboy out..." And then I froze for a moment. "What did you say just then, buddy?"

"Pardon - meaning I don't know what you're talking about."

"No, not that... Just now, what did you call me just now?"

"Ross, you are acting kinda weird, you know that?"

"There you go... You said it again..."

"Huh?"

"You called me Ross, Arnie... Ross with an 'R', not Woss or Wossy, but Ross. You know, you were doing my head in with that one, Kid."

"Man," said Arnie, that must have been one hell of a dream you had."

A couple of things flitted back in my mind.

"You could say that, fella... Yeah, you could say that all right!"

We walked at a fair pace to the bus station, sharing the load of Arnie's suitcase. He was different, more solid, stronger, one of the big guys for sure. I quite liked having him along with me if I was perfectly honest.

We stopped outside the toy store. The silver six-shooter was still in the same place, resplendent and sparkling in the early morning sunlight slicing into the window.

I put Arnie's case on the sidewalk and fished out my wallet and started to go inside.

"Hey, Ross," said Arnie, "where you going, man? I'm going to miss that Greyhound."

I stopped in the doorway, pointing to the gun. "I'm getting it for you, Arnie. I think you've earned it."

"I thought I told you, Ross... That stuff's for kids!"

I stood rooted to the spot, looking at him in amazement.

"Tell you what, Kid. How'd you feel about me coming to stay with you during the fall vacation? I can't wait to see you with those new contacts. Maybe we can shoot the breeze - hang out together, go to the movies?"

We made it by the skin of our teeth. I stood watching as Arnie took his seat on the Greyhound. He pretended to hold a cell-phone to his ear and mouthed "Call me". I gave him the thumbs up and turned away quickly as the bus pulled away. I didn't want Arnie to see what a cry-baby his big cousin had turned into.

The ground reverberated beneath my feet and I sniffed the cloying odour of diesel fumes. I went into the station cafeteria, got a coke from the machine and sat down at a table.

I fingered the two items Arnie had given me just before he stepped up onto the bus – a small package, and a plain white envelope. I opened the package first. It was slim, wrapped with fancy paper.

At first I smiled when I saw what it was. And then my eyes misted up. A Milky Bar. Jesus, that kid knew just where to hit you.

And then the envelope - a card from Arnie. When I opened it out, something fell on the table. I picked it up and stared at it. My hand began to shake. It was a dry-pressed nettle. My heart did that little flip again. I read the words that Arnie had written in the card...

"Thank you for everything, Ross, I really had a great time. And thanks for being my playmate for the last two weeks. I'm glad you asked if you could come and stay in the fall. I'm really looking forward to it. Can't wait to get my new lenses, though. So hard lines to you, no more google-eye to laugh at. Hope this wild flower makes you think of me

All the best!

Your buddy, Arnie. (THE MILKY BAR KID)"