Sad Son Pt. 01

Like a thief in the night, she is gone before I turn around. I'm not sure what game she's playing, but I sure like it.

After dressing, I go down to breakfast. Casey stops me before I sit down. She kisses me on the lips and lets it linger for a while.

She releases and then recommends, "Open your lips more; squeeze them tight. You want your full lips on any woman you kiss from now on."

Everyone else acts like they didn't know about the shower or saw the kiss. I made the mistake of looking up, only to see that most of my sisters were watching me like a hawk.

*****

School is just as odd, if not worse. The first football player that hit me almost got his arm torn off by a group of girls. As soon as I step on campus, a freshman asks me, "Is it true?"

I mumble, "No," and walk faster.

She and two friends say, "We heard you can play the guitar."

Swell.

I suggest, "A lot of people say things about me. Most of it isn't true."

The group is larger now, a Junior tells me, "Yea, but it's never been a good thing."

I turn around, and a crowd is standing there. I'm trembling. I don't know how to handle this.

Trudy, one of Michelle's close group of friends, saves me, "Even if he is a guitar dude, he's a senior, get lost, little girls."

While she's talking, I'm running the other way. This is bringing too much attention to me. I duck a punch from a football player again, but the second one slams me into a locker. I then fall to the ground. Oh fuck, that hurt.

Standing over me is Michelle's dad. He has the football player by the arm and looks ready to explode because he's mad.

He screams, "Kate Johnson, come here, please."

Kate is my kind English teacher.

Michelle's father leaves instructions, "I saw this boy assault that man. He may be hurt; please assist. I'm taking this one to the office."

He shouts to everyone within shouting range, "This school doesn't put up with this crap anymore. Young mister Stevens is being expelled. His football career is over. The teachers are watching you."

Then with a grunt, he quickly guides the boy away.

I feel like my face is frowning. My mouth is drooping. I hurt. My eyes are full of tears. There is a huge crowd standing there.

Kate is soothing as she pats my shoulder softly, "Can you stand up?"

Through tears of pain, "It hurts to breathe."

I hear my teacher saying into her phone, "Yes. Salmon Wittenger High School, front door. A student is complaining it's hard to breathe after being slammed into a locker. Yes, he's responsive, isn't bleeding, has tears, he looks sad. He is awake and talking, but it appears that talking hurts, so no, you only get me."

She says to the crowd, "All of you, to the front door and bring the paramedics to me when they get here."

Damn, it hurts to chuckle, but I did before I said, "The nurse is going to be pissed that you didn't call her first."

Kate smiles at me, "That old bag would have given you an ice bag and told you to go back to class."

I hear behind me, "Oh, it's only Hal; that asshole deserves it."

The next thing I hear is a slap echoing off the walls. That hurt a lot as I giggle.

It's only a few minutes before I hear that all too familiar siren. It starts off soft, but as they get closer, it gets louder. The nurse and everyone from the office is here now to see what happened. I'm not talking, but several students explain precisely what they saw. I could not have said it any better.

The assistant principal wanted to know who called it in, and the entire crowd said they did. Everybody likes Kate. No way she gets in trouble for this. That was such a sweet moment that I was moved to tears again. I look up, and her tears fall on my face. We're all human.

They check my vitals and find that my oxygen is too low. They feel my ribs and don't find any obvious breaks. They are at least bruised and possibly cracked. Off I go in the ambulance. Every bump hurt like hell.

They want a family member to come out, "I tell them, phone (my code), 4452, Faith. Only her."

She will be out of class by now and is done for the day. I don't want her calling the others. I'm going to live; they don't need to mess up their lives for me.

They get my insurance card, payment, and vitals quickly. Faith is here before I see a doc. She reads the report, asks me if it's true, I get out a "ya," and then they do an x-ray. It's only bruised ribs. I get a prescription for some painkillers. I only took two last time. This time, I think I will need a few more. I hurt.

I stay in the car as Faith gets the prescription, then it's on home. I am positive Faith hasn't told them, or they would have dropped everything to smother me.

We get home, and they're furious with Faith. They all wanted to know. Because it's late and nobody made anything, we order pizza. The tall back dining room chairs are nice. I sat down when I got home and haven't moved. It took a long time to eat with the slow arm movements. No reaching for pizza either, too much pain.

The wrap around my ribs helps. Two good pain pills help me sleep and help me forget a terrible day. Well, the shower was excellent. After I close my eyes and go to bed, that's the image remaining in my mind.

*****

Wednesday and Thursday, I basically sleep all day. Friday morning, I woke up feeling pretty good. I can breathe normally, no pain, damn, that means I must go to school.

I was going to leave early, figuring I would be walking slowly. Nope. Gail is taking me to school, and Donna is picking me up. No use fighting them.

I'm let off at the front door; I need to drop off my note for being out of school for more than two days. I never made it to class, so it's been three.

Mrs. Winters takes my note, wishes me well, calls a man over, and he is escorting me to class. She figured I was probably sore still. I am. I'm excused from P.E. YEAH!

My first class is English. As the bell rings, Kate asks to see me. Swell, I'm going to be late for my class.

After all the students are out of the class, she looks at me with sad eyes, "I was abused in High School; I know what it's like. You will stay after each class today like you are now. When the bell rings, you will go to your next class. We don't want you in the hallway where you might get hit or punched today. Come here for lunch. A good student of mine is buying you lunch. The three of us will eat here." DING! "Ok, as soon as the door unclogs, run along. Have a nice day, Hal."

That's precisely what happened for my first three classes. After the lunch bell rang, I made my way to see Kate. She has a table and chairs in the back. Kate, three of my other female teachers, and I eat in the back. The other student was Michelle. My teachers had heard that I tried out for the jazz band, and I was pretty good.

Michelle was a bit animated in her version of what happened. I explained about my guitar and my playing. They each had my sisters, so they asked about them. Boy, was I embarrassed when I found out that an engineer designs things rather than running a locomotive. Now I understand why Casey is a math expert. All too soon, lunch is over. I thank Michelle for lunch. I offered to pay, but she would have none of that.

After the bell, it's off to history. Swell. Each class loads me up with assignments that I missed. That should kill a lot of my weekend.

Gail helps with the backpack. It's heavy with books and my assignments. That saved me from sore ribs.

Once inside, I ask Gail, "May I thank you for helping me?"

With a nervous look on her face, like I might hit her, she says, "Yessssss."

I reach over, hold her head, and plant a soft yet full kiss on her lips, allowing it to linger several moments before pulling away.

Instantly, she's a wildcat on speed, "Who did that? Who taught you to kiss like that? Tell me right now!"

I tilt my head, something she finds adorable, and I say loud enough for only her to hear, "A gentleman does not kiss and tell."

I turn my back on her and softly walk to my room with a massive smile on my face.

*****

It's not long before there is a knock at my door.

I cautiously inquire, "Come innnnnnn?"

Donna strolls in a sexy walk with an almost transparent set of lingerie. A small piece of fabric and some lace cover just the essentials and nothing else. I am already in bed. She crawls up the bed to be next to me. As she walks on hands and knees up the bed, her breasts sway amazingly well. There is so much skin that I immediately get hard. I am happy that I have a blanket covering me.

She asks me twice, "What subject?"

She's grinning at my discomfort. I'm smelling her exotic perfume, strawberry-scented hair, and the slight sheen of sweat that makes her breasts reflect light. I take a moment to take in her body. I compose myself. I take a deep breath. Now, I can look her in the eyes and carry on a conversation.

I answer her question, "We're studying the weather. Right now, it's the different types of clouds and which ones mean rain is coming and which mean thunderstorms. I'm reading the chapter, then I have a worksheet to fill out."

She's way too excited as she says, "Excellent. Is it OK if I snuggle up with you and listen to you read aloud? Andrea says it helps her remember stuff. I think it's worth testing that theory."

I read the entire chapter for almost an hour and then filled out the worksheet. I'm surprised because she distracted me a few times. Oddly, I didn't need to refer to the book. I think they're on to something here.

Donna started by placing a hand and arm on my chest. Later, she turns on her side. No big deal? Big deal. Her ripe melons are pressing on both sides of my arm and my side. That is one feeling I will never get tired of. I mean, like wow. They're so soft and mushy. They're fantastic, the perfect play toy for a man.

When we finish, we move on to my history class. More reading. She asks lots of questions about who people are and why they do things with this book. When I finish with that, it's late, bedtime.

I am very appreciative of her help. To show her that and my newly learned skill, I reach over and place a lingering kiss squarely on her lips. No tongue or wandering fingers, just a light kiss planted perfectly on her lips. I hear a light moan causing me to immediately spring to full length.

Donna is stunned but not unhappy. She smiles at me like I just got away with something. I most certainly did. She gets up to turn off my lights, closes the door as I am rolling onto my side, and then she surprises the hell out of me by climbing back into bed with me.

I am breathing quick, and my heart's pounding 1000 beats a minute. Is she mad at me? Did I go too far?

Before I freak out too much, she lies behind me and wraps an arm around my body.

Donna says, "I enjoy sleeping with men. I enjoy sleeping in their bed as well." I giggle. "I'm going to sleep here because it's been too long since I've dated."

Her hand reaches further and runs the length of my dick before she pulls it back and comments, "That's a good one. Lucky guy. Now go to bed."

I ask the darkness, "I now know you don't run trains. What type of engineer are you, or what will you be?"

Donna purrs, "An electrical engineer. I'm still looking to focus a bit more, though. It's a large field."

I explain, "The guys that started up the group Boston was from MIT. They made their own sound devices and sold them to make lots of money. Since we can't afford a device, can you make one?"

Donna is staggered by my question, "Um, um, ah. With a bit of research, I probably could. Why? What do you want?"

I calm down, "I see myself playing my own music in my dreams. There are two things I want. The first one changes my sound, so a single guitar sounds like two, three, four, or five guitars. It's like singers that harmonize. I want that on my guitar. The second is unusual. I want the sound to bleed. Most music is in a 4/4-time signature, meaning four quarter notes in a measure. In this case, a measure is four quarter notes, and then a vertical bar separates it from the next measure. I want my first note playing a quarter, half, or three-quarters of a note longer, so it bleeds into the second note."

Donna sat for several minutes thinking and rubbing her hands on my side. Boy, did that feel amazing.

Donna finally says, "I have to do a project for school. I was given a lame one, build an old-fashioned, handheld LED game. That is so '80s. I think this would be an awesome project. If what you say is true, I might be able to sell it."

*****

Thursday morning, 7:45 AM.

I am being shaken to wake up. Faith has a big old smile and a robe that barely covers the breasts that want to spill out.

Faith is a drill Sargent this morning, "Donna, go change! Hal, go take a shower; we got fifteen minutes!"

WE? Did I catch that right?

I am pushed and dragged into the washroom, where, in a flash, the robe is on the sink, and Faith is adjusting the water. My boxers are on the floor in record time as I jump in to help her get clean.

Faith is direct with me, "I'll let you clean me. HOWEVER! I want all of me clean, not just my private parts. Do you understand me?"

I salute poorly, then say, "Mam, yes, mam. Private Hal reporting for duty. All body parts will get clean."

I start low on her feet and calves while she starts high on my hair and shoulders.

Faith giggles, "Oh my, you sure are growing up. It wasn't that long ago; a covered breast was all you could look at. Now, you're cleaning my feet. Previously, you couldn't talk to a woman with tripping on your tongue if you said anything. I really am happy for you."

I work my way up. As I do, my arms start to tremble. What will she allow? As if in answer to my prayers, she widens her stance, making it easier for me to "clean" her most private area. I rub her hips, thighs, and inner thighs without going too far up. I turn my palm up and wipe from her taint to her mons in one slow and gentle swipe. She shudders.

I clean her lower body with a washcloth and stand up to reach her upper body. I make sure to do her shoulders, back, and arms before gently reaching for her face and washing her hair. It took four tries to get the 'right' shampoo. With everything else done, her eyes look straight at me. I use a hand to wash her breasts while her hand strokes my dick.

Immediately, I am almost ready to blow. Oh my, that feels incredible. I feel like I am on fire. I am shaking like a leaf in a hurricane. My ability to concentrate on her breasts is now limited. If I blow, I will hit Faith. I can't believe that she would like that after getting cleaned up. Her grip is harder, and it yanks all the way back to my head. That's a fantastic feeling as well.

I am scared; I'm about to burst. Faith uses her other hand to push my shoulder so that I turn enough that I'm not pointing at her. Now she uses a soft hand to skim across my skin. That's all it took. I feel a massive squirt launch from my dick. I cover the wall with lots of sticky cum.

Faith's hands go to her face; she's shocked at how much cum I splattered on the wall. Boom, I fire another shot at the wall. Boom. Boom. Boom, three more evenly timed volleys of cum shoot out of me. Faith is laughing up a storm at all the cum on the wall.

I wiped a pussy, cleaned breasts, had my cock cleaned, had my dick stroked, then shot five wads of cum on the shower wall. I am deliriously thrilled. Then, I don't feel steady on my feet from all the excitement. I might fall over. I'm freaking out at this confused and weak feeling. I fall into the corner and then slowly slide down to the floor.

Only now does Faith freak out and scream. I'm blurry-eyed and confused. I don't remember falling to the floor. With the scream, a horde comes running to assist. A naked Gail, a topless Emma, a dressed Andrea, and a wet Becky all help me stand up.

Andrea asks me, "What happened?"

Keep in mind, I'm still in a daze as I answer, "Pussy, tits, dick, hand, orgasm, wall, fall, dark."

I have no idea how they made sense of that, but they all know what happened.

Andrea ways in using a calm voice, "Towel, my bed, bring him. Careful, he might pass out still. Watch his head."

Emma asks, "Which one?"

They all laugh out loud.

I stop them before we get to her room. They all look at me in wonder.

Sheepishly, I say with a soft voice, "Thank you. I was weak for a bit, but I feel much better now. I'm sorry for causing a commotion."

I then run back to my room to hide in shame. Andrea is on my heels. I rush to put on underwear and then sit on my bed. I am about to be scolded for doing something wrong. I look down at the floor, awaiting a beating or scolding. I deserve both.

Andrea sits on the bed next to me, gently wraps her arms around me, and then starts the lesson, "Faith was naked. You haven't seen too many naked women before. Being eighteen, you got really excited. Then she feeds that excitement by holding or stroking your cock. You explode a HUGE amount of cum on the wall. I know, I saw the evidence." She gently nudges my arm. "The excitement, orgasm, and sudden loss of cum in a short amount of time is a large drain on the body. In time, you will handle it better."

Curious, "Why did you call my dick a cock? All textbooks say penis, yet you're going to be a doctor. Is there something wrong with me?"

She laughs at me. That doesn't help.

She calms down and says, "OK. Penis is the textbook name. For slang, many people call it a dick. When it gets big enough, it's called a cock. You are a bit longer and thicker than average. You're going to make a woman or women very happy someday. Now don't go thinking you're something super special. I have had bigger than you, and neither was special.

"Length doesn't make a huge difference. Girth or thickness does make a difference, but not as much as you think. Guys with porn star cocks, that's something special that some women go nuts over. It's much more important to treat your partner with respect and love. That will get you much farther. If you learn to use your tool well, that will make you magical, not the size of your cock. Understand?"

I reply, "You have my head spinning. I will think about it. I need to get going for school. Today, the training wheels come off. I get to experience the halls again."

She got up, walked out, and closed my door. Gail screams up the stairs, "Breakfast is ready."

I dress and grab my backpack. Faith had me load my backpack last night before bed. I rush down the stairs to receive a stack of pancakes and sausage. I eat quickly, and then I walk briskly to school. No sooner than I step inside the school, I am pushed by a football player. This time is different; a teacher saw it and immediately grabbed his arm and dragged him to the office. Two classrooms in, and another hits my arm. Again, a hawkeyed teacher grabs his arm, and off to the office they go.

I look, and all the teachers are standing outside their classrooms, watching students like a hawk.

I relax a bit when I hear behind me, "DAVID! No! You touch him, and we're done. That goes for the entire team. You bully ANYONE and no sex for the rest of the year."

Holy shit, that was Michelle!

David replies, "Like you could last a week."

Michelle is fuming, "Two weeks for you."

David replies flippantly, "Fuck you bitch."

He walks away. She looks at me. She looks around. She walks over to Brian.

Michelle says to Brian, "Are you smarter than your friend? Do you think you can handle dating me?"

I turned and walked to my English class. That hurt more than all that has happened this year put together. I am sad, depressed, and want to walk in front of a bus right now. I skip lunch and sit in the library. There, in a dark corner, I can cry all by myself. I had hoped that things were turning around. I am still the small pathetic boy in everyone's eyes.