Alex and Tom

It was the spring of 1995, I was 18 and growing up in suburbia. I was walking down the tree lined street with shaded sidewalks heading to the store to pick up some snacks. The street was long and straight and the tall Oak and Maple trees were just leafing out. It was a sunny but chilly day after rain had fallen the night before and I avoided the worms that had been flooded out of the lawns and were now crawling along the sidewalk.

I was about half a mile from my house, and a little further than that from the store. I usually avoided this street because of one of the kids who lived here. But I was going to a new store that had opened and this was sort of the only way to get there. The kid who I refer to was a typical bully, his name was Marcus or something. His parents were never around and he had an older brother with some kind of loud muscle car and a couple of asshole friends who seemed to always be with him. He was a year younger than me, but a lot bigger. Of course pretty much everyone was bigger than me. I was definitely a late bloomer, still had a baby face and looked much younger than 18.

I stepped off the curb to cross a quiet side street and WHOOSH! A basketball passed inches in front of my face. It scared the heck out of me and I froze. Then I heard the sound of sneakers pounding on the pavement coming towards me. Sure enough, it was bully kid followed by one of his goofy, dirty friends. "Watch out you pansy! You almost hit my ball." he said, in that condescending asshole way that people like him talk. Of course his friend laughed. I fought my instinct to run. I'm an adult, I thought to myself. As soon as I caught my breath after being surprised I tried to keep on walking, hoping to avoid any trouble.

"Where are you going pansy?" he said. I kept walking but he ran up to me and grabbed my arm and stopped me with a jerk.

"Owwwwwe, stop it!" I whined, "Leave me alone!"

He looked shocked and surprised, but within a second, he and his friend began to laugh hysterically. I had squealed and sounded just like the pansy he thought I was. I immediately flushed bright red and turned to get away. He grabbed my arm, harder this time and threw me to the ground. I landed on the soggy, muddy grass strip between the street and the sidewalk and he was immediately on top of me. I was on my back and he was straddling my chest giving me little slaps on my face as the wet ground soaked my clothes.

"What a pussy. He said. "Aren't you older than me?" he taunted. I just looked up at him, hoping this would all be over soon. "You look like a girl." He said pinching both of my cheeks.

I couldn't move, his knees were pinning my arms and he was way too heavy for me. He kept slapping my face, not really hard but still kind of painful.

"My brother told me what they call you in school." SLAP! "Little Dicky." SLAP! "Is that right?" SLAP! "Do you have a little tiny dicky?" SLAP! "Answer me!" SLAP! "Little girly boy has a little girly dicky!" SLAP!

Then I began to cry. I totally lost it. Tears were running down my face and I was blubbering, sniveling, and whining. "Give him a wedgie!" his friend said. And he seemed to like that idea. He rolled me over and pushed my face in the wet grass and reached into the waist band of my pants grabbing my underwear and pulling them all the way up to my shoulders. I yelped and cried, again sounding just like..a girl. Completely soaked, embarrassed and with my underwear burning into my butt crack I laid there and cried.

"Crying like a little girl." He teased. "Little dicky girly boy."

"Hey! What the hell is going on out here?" I heard a man yell loudly.

"You're pathetic, little crying girly boy." He said as he pushed himself to his feet using the back of my head, forcing my face into the soft, wet ground. Then I heard them as they ran away fast. "Catch you later Little Dicky!" he yelled as he ran off.

"Are you ok?" I heard a man's voice ask.

Then I felt hands on my arms start to pull me up. I slowly got up as he helped me. Soaking wet, crying with my underwear stretched out of my pants, he looked me over to see if I was hurt as I tried to stuff my underwear back into place. The embarrassment of it all made me cry even more

"Are you all right?" he asked.

"I..I think so." I said between sobs.

"Let's go get you cleaned up." He said as he gently ushered my up the steps to the house that he had come out of.

He walked me in through the front door, my tears beginning to dry but my whimpering coughs continuing a little bit. He led me up stairs and into a bathroom.

I sat down on the toilet. He stood there for a moment with his hands on his hips, as if he wasn't sure what he could do. I just sat there in my wet clothes, feeling like a complete fool and idiot. Then he got down on one knee and began taking off my shoes.

"You sure you're ok? Should I call your mother?" He asked.

I shook my head and mumbled that she wasn't home and would just get mad at me for not standing up for myself anyway. He turned on the shower and told me to put my wet clothes over by the door so he could wash and dry them then turned and went to leave. Before he left, he turned around and looked at me, I was still crying quietly, more like whimpering really, my head was hung low and my wet hair was plastered to my red cheeks.

"Heeeeey...he said softly. It'll be ok. You look like a sweet boy, it'll all be fine."

Then he closed the door. I took off my wet clothes and put them by the door. I took off my underwear which were ripped and stretched out of shape into something unrecognizable. After I was naked I pushed aside the shower curtain and got into the warm water.

I looked down at myself as the water flowed over me. I hated my body. I was like an 18 year old little boy and worst of all, I did have a little dicky. I knew it was little since summer camp when I was 12. All through high school I had to change in gym class and I had seen other boys naked. They all had penises that were much bigger than mine and they all had hair on theirs. Mine was tiny. It didn't hang down. It stuck out over my sack like a vienna sausage and right now, being cold and humiliated, it was half that size.

As I stood under the hot water feeling sorry for myself, I continued to look at my body. My body hair, what little of it there was, was blonde and nearly invisible. I wasn't skinny or fat. I definitely wasn't muscular. I was kind of doughy. My skin had a thickness to it, there was no definition just shape. I wasn't even pudgy, just kind of, well... soft. I was fleshy all over, not at all like other boys my age or even younger. My eyes looked down at my little dick, the water from the shower making it look like I was peeing, and I began to cry again.

"Are you ok in there?" I heard as the door opened a crack. "Can I come in?"

I snapped out of my self-loathing haze and turned off the shower as I sniffled up my tears and heard his footsteps on the tile floor. "I've got a clean towel for you, nice and warm just out of the dryer." He said and opened the shower curtain. I jumped, frightened. I didn't expect him to do that and I immediately put my hands over myself to cover my crotch.

"Here you go." He said casually and pushed the towel towards me. I saw his eyes go up and down over my body as I reached for the towel. I pulled it back to me quickly and tucked it up under my chin. Partially covering myself and stood there in the chill of the air. His eyes lingered on me for just a moment and he smiled at me for a couple of seconds, then turned around and did something at the sink. I turned and faced the wall to hide my nakedness and then put the towel over my shoulders like a cape and snuggled it back under my chin, closing it tightly in the front. When I turned around I noticed he was looking at me in the mirror. Our eyes met for a split second before his flicked away and he continued to move things around on the counter before turning around to face me.

"I'm Tom." He said. "Are you ok? Feeling a little better?"

I nodded my head. "Thanks for helping me." I said shyly.

"Well, it sounded like a woman was getting attacked out there, I had to..." He stopped himself as he saw my face flush and tears well up in my eyes. I dropped my head to the ground.

"Heeeeeey..." he said with that same soothing tone as before. "I didn't mean...I..."

I sniffled and tears began to roll down my cheeks, again.

"I'm sorry." He said, stepping closer to me. He put a hand on my shoulder and one under my chin, pushing it up to make me look at him. He then moved his finger across my cheek, moving my hair off of my face and curling behind my ear.

"That kid's a real punk, and he's tough. I'd probably scream like that if he was chasing me around too." He said and smiled warmly at me.

He wiped my tears away with his thumb. "What's your name he asked?"

"Alex." I said, sniffling afterwards.

"Well, Alex, you're a very sweet boy. I think you can stop crying, you're safe now." He said.

"I think that boy hurt your feelings more than your body. Is that right?" I nodded, wiping my tears away with the towel. "What was that all about anyway?" He asked.

"It's nothing, just my destiny. I said sullenly. It happens all the time. Since the 6th grade the kids at school, even the girls make fun of me and push me around."

"Why is that?" He asked. "You seem like a nice guy." I shrugged, looking down at the floor wondering whether he had heard the names that the kid had called me. I wanted to run out of there. I wanted to be back in my room at home, alone and safe.

"I dunno." I said sheepishly.

"Well, he sure did call you some mean things." He said.

I blushed.

"But you know you shouldn't feel bad about those things. We can't help the way our bodies are made. We have to use what we have and be the best we can be."

I rolled my eyes. "I had a weight problem when I was younger and got picked on too. But look at me now." He said.

I looked at him. He seemed like a good looking guy. I mean, I'm no judge of "good looking guys", but, well he wasn't fat or ugly.

He put his hands on my shoulders and looked at me. "I think you are pretty special." He said. "Look how nice your skin is, you have great eyes, such a cute face."

There was an awkward silence as he stared down at me. Then he moved a thumb across my cheek. He was standing close to me now. He was much taller than me. My face was level with his chest, and he did that thing where he lifted up my chin again. I looked at him and he was looking at me, it was kind of weird.

"Not very many boys are special like you." He paused, and then said quietly. "So...pretty."

My face twisted into anger as I looked at him. I opened my mouth to protest, to tell him to fuck off, I'm not like that. But before I got any words out he put his hand up to my mouth.

"Shhhhh...Listen. He said. "Those boys down there, they are about the same age as you right?"

"I'm a year older than them." I said angrily.

"Wha...(he cleared his throat)...well. Ok." He stammered. "Well how old are you?" He asked.

"Eighteen." I said the confidence dropping out of my voice like a deflating ball.

He looked me over before continuing.

"Well look at them. They have muscles, and they are tall, they are strong. That one kid even had a little mustache. They make fun of you because you're different. Because you're small, you're soft and you're ...well, pretty."

He let that sink in. I didn't protest this time.

"I'm guessing that the girls make fun of you because you're cuter than they are"

I shrugged.

"So where does that leave you?" He asked. I shrugged again, feeling like the biggest loser in the world.

"It leaves you stuck in the middle. You're a middle person. Not really a boy and not a girl. You're special."

As his words were sinking in he moved the towel off of one of my shoulders and ran his fingers over my bare skin. "You're so very soft, so very special." He said softly.

I stood there in a time warp. Feeling like I was just punched in the gut and told a truth I didn't want to hear. I turned and looked in the mirror. My hair was still wet, pulled back behind my ears with little half curls moving forward from beneath my lobes, my pale pink shoulder contrasting with the baby blue towel. My face...it was pretty. It wasn't handsome, it was cute. My eyes were big and blue; my nose was soft and undefined. I looked at Tom's reflection. Standing there in his jeans and t-shirt, he was a man. Hairy arms, broad chest, His faced was shaved but I could see his beard line. I was so far removed from what he was, I looked completely like a girl next to him.

He watched me watching myself, gently squeezing my shoulder as if he saw my mind turning as my eyes looked back and forth at our reflections.

"Here, let me try something." He said.

He turned me to face him and gently took hold of the towel from under my chin and being careful to move slowly and not expose me, moved it under my arms. Then he secured it in front of me, like a girl would wear it. The towel squeezed my chest and the skin above it pushed up, giving me the appearance of having small breasts. "There." He said. "You're perfect."

He moved his hands to my waist, squeezing gently, then moved his hands up my sides and back down to my waist. He pulled me into himself tenderly and hugged me.

I don't know why I didn't stop him. Well, I guess I do now. But looking back, this was the moment. This is the time I could have shouted at him to leave me alone and I have no doubt that he would have. This was the moment I could have run out of there. But I didn't, I just let it happen.

"So pretty." He whispered to me. My head was turned sideways against his chest, facing the mirror, my hands hanging down at my sides, his hands on my hips, kneading softly through the towel. He was pulling me into him. I could feel his dick pushing on my tummy. Through his jeans, though the towel. It was down the side of his pant leg I think. It wasn't hard, it was just there. I remember thinking about it, I remember feeling it. Did it twitch or move a little? I just remember being aware of it. I remember thinking that this didn't seem like a hug from my uncle or my grandfather, it felt, well different. He wasn't pushing himself into me, but he wasn't giving me a "guy hug" either. This guy had just saved me from getting my ass kicked by the neighborhood asshole, who was younger than me, had rescued me and taken care of me, now I was warm and I felt safe.

For the first time I could remember, I felt safe outside of my house.

We stood there like that for a while, I don't know, it seemed like awhile, but could have been a couple of minutes. There was so much going on in my head. And I guess in my body as well.

Then I leaned into him, he felt me relax. I moved my right hand up his torso slowly over his chest and placed it on his shoulder, and then I did the same with my left. We stood there for a moment before he pushed me away from him just a little and leaned down and kissed me.

He kissed me just below my ear. I still touch that spot sometimes and remember the feeling. I remember the sound of it, the smell of him. I felt his hands grip me more forcefully. It felt good. I could feel his dick get bigger and he pushed it towards my tummy while he kissed me. It was like I wasn't me.

The side of my head was against his chest and he was kissing my head and neck. I watched in the mirror while his hands explored my shoulders, my waist, my back. His touch was sweet. Not rough but forceful and caring. Looking at my reflection in his arms with his body draped over me, his hands roaming and his breath hot in my ear as his lips kissed my neck it was obvious, we did not look like two dudes making out. There was nothing weird about it. We looked like a man and a woman and there was no question about who was which. I'd never been kissed before, I'd never had a girl want to touch me other than to push me or take things from me. Other boys, well they either hit me or pushed me or both. I never had fit in anywhere. But looking in that mirror, I fit in. I fit in Tom's arms. I didn't feel sick or weird or confused, I felt special.

He stood up after several minutes of kissing my neck and shoulders and took a deep breath. "Are you ok?" He asked. "I mean, is this ok? Do you like this?"

I nodded. And I think I smiled at him a little. He smiled and asked if I should call my parents and let them know I'm ok. I told him I didn't need to. That I was 18 and I stay out all day on the weekends and that it was only noon. Wow. Only noon. I had left my house at like 10:30 am. And here I was now in a towel around my chest like a girl and being treated like one by a man whom I had never met and somehow I was ok with it all.

He led me out of the bathroom and down the hallway by my hand. My other hand went up to the fold in my towel to hold it in place. He sat me down on the bed and walked to the other side by the window. I watched him as he did. He sat on the bed across from me, took off his shoes and lay on top of the comforter. I was looking over my shoulder at him.

"Come here." He said, patting the bed next to him. He was lying on his side, propped up on one elbow. I said nothing. I looked at him for a moment. Then I pulled my legs up and scooted onto the bed. Half sitting and half lying down with my knees pulled up and my arms folded over my chest, leaning against the pillows. He smiled at me and reached over and put his hand on my leg. He slowly stroked my lower thigh.

"You're so soft." He said under his breath. His hand was big and felt a little rough on my skin. I watched it move up and down my leg.

"Do you like the way I'm touching you?" He asked.

I nodded sheepishly.

He continued rubbing my thigh for a few moments, talking to me sweetly, again telling me how special I was. Telling me how pretty I was. I felt special. No one had been nice to me like this, ever. His hand on my leg felt nice, it was sending tingles through my body. I was pretty motionless, enjoying this strange, unexpected attention. My mind was calm. It's as if seeing myself next to this man, seeing his big hand on my smooth skin made it all make sense. I had a deep feeling of peace and comfort. I wasn't scared, I didn't hate myself. It felt good to be touched like this.

He scooted up closer to me and slid his hand into the folds of the towel, touching my tummy. His hand was chilly and I flinched. He stopped for a moment, gauging my reaction until my body relaxed again. His hand moved around to my side between my ribs and my hip. He squeezed and pulled me closer to him. Then he leaned even closer and kissed me gently on my lips. My hands were holding onto the fold of the towel beneath his, keeping my towel closed above my crotch and my legs were together. His hand was moving up and down along my torso. He was kissing my lips with his. Gently, sweetly and I slowly began to kiss him back. I had never kissed anybody except my mother and relatives.

His kisses were soft, and warm. He tasted like mint. He would suck on my lower lip gently and a few times I felt his tongue brush over my lips. I tried to participate and kiss him back, but it was all I could do to just let him teach me. It was like my body was filled with purple smoke and butterflies. I was tingling everywhere and my head was dizzy, but in a really good way. I wasn't thinking about anything but his touch. I felt so warm from the inside of me, I was sweating and my heart was beating really fast.

His hand moved out from beneath my towel and he tugged at the knot that was bound over my chest, unfolding the towel from itself. He folded one side away, exposing half of my chest and one nipple. I broke our kiss and looked down, as did he.

"Oh sweetie." He said with a gasp, as he took my nipple between his thumb and forefinger.