Timmie 01

Timmie 01

Timothy is what is printed on my birth certificate and I don't remember anyone ever referring to me as that because Timmy became my name. I asked for Timmie on my 18th birthday cake and didn't get that, but that's how I pronounced it anyways and that's how I introduced myself from that point on and today at almost 20, I'm still living in the shadows. Well, I live mostly around the corner more than I live in the shadows, but the point is that I don't live under a rock and I'm comfortable in my own skin and with my lifestyle choices and I mind my own business, so hey there, I'm not widely known yet, but I prefer to be known as Timmie, if you don't mind.

LOL, I so do not mind my own business, but with so few people in my life, it's almost the same. And it's not that I latch onto the few people in my life like a leech, but one of these days, I'm going to leech latch my lips on the right partner and suck hard, hard like a leech sucks. But since I'm nearly a loner, even I might say good luck with that leech latching thing since I have no one that I like that way yet.

Alright, I'm happy with my body in general, but I receive comments on my Chang homepage how I look better in my selfies where I'm standing up then sitting down with my knees crooked up, but I take that as the haters who will never know where those thighs lead to. I keep my hair longer and as weird as this might sound, I painted the inside of my house a color named sun drenched sand, stared at it for a while and then decided that sand tan shades were my colors for my undies. Not all, of course, but I will not pass up any undies that I come across if they resemble a sandy beach color.

And just to touch base with weird again, I post in club style dresses a lot, but I've never worn a dress outside.

I shop on the Middleton Strip during daylight hours since it literally has every shop imaginable and I've cruised the Strip a couple of times after dark to see if there were corners or shadows for someone as shy as me, but I have never pulled over and parked. I mean, I wouldn't know what to do or how to act anyways amongst all those men, women, street workers, fem boys and tomboys who hang out on the Strip. Granted, they all mingle, laugh and have great times, but it feels and seems a tad wild for me and my lifestyle. I am not wild.

But some tomboys are hot!

So, my story today is about how I am not wild, but I peek out from around the corner a bit, I use my friend Todd for engagement practice as much as he uses his naughty thoughts over my body after I leave, so that's a tie. And that sounds a lot worse than it really is.

My story is also about how I rode my fifteen minutes of fame for all it was worth.

Oh, and my friend, Todd, will argue six ways to Sunday that we are not best friends, but since we are neighbors, well, I've latched onto him and as a desperate leech in training, he can't shake me off, other than how I know for fact that he shakes it off over me after I depart, so that's all a tie too, right? And everybody is happy and we never ever, so, the end.

Oh, and Todd is like 21, almost 22, so he's in that phase of his life. Which I have learned how to exhaust his anger issues energy right up front so we can calmly get down to business and talk.

"Todd, is your generation always pissed off morning, noon and night?"

"What the damn fucking hell kind of question is that, Timmy? I'm barely 2 years older than you!"

I hate it when he calls me Timmy when I'm dressed. But I like how he never refers to me as fem boy.

"Oh, I wasn't sure where the generational line cut off was, Todd, so, what do you want to talk about today then, huh?"

Oh, yeah, Todd is pissed off a lot for some reason, so.

"Oh, let's damn fucking damn start with why and how you keep breaking into my house in your jammies, Timmy, which is starting to piss me off!"

"Oh, I have a key to your breezeway door, Todd. It's jiggle, wiggle, jiggle, wiggle, shoulder bump, knee bump and push, so?"

"Fuck, damn, damn, fuck, damn it and this is why my generation is always pissed off! That's it, I'm taking everyone out and I'm starting with the fucking Locksmith who told me that door knob set was the best that $6 could buy! Fuck!"

So, if there is one thing that I've learned is that it's best to let Todd expend all of his anger energy and allow him to calm down before having a personal conversation with him. I've also figured out that I hope I don't make it to 22 since you know, the senior citizen generations seem to live life all pissed off, like all the time!

"Oh, I thought you knew, Todd, since over half of my bathroom mirror selfies are from inside of your bathroom, so?"

"OMFG, fuck, fuck, damn, damn, fuck, Timmy! What the fuck?"

Well, Todd's bathroom actually has those cream off-white marbled granite slate wall tiles and they really highlight my skin tone, so.

And you have to make sure that he has it all out. Oh, his anger out, not his dick.

"Oh, so, you figured that your mirrors cleaned themselves and that your toaster cleaned its own crumbs out then, Todd? Both of which I clean in just my undies! And stop calling me Timmy!"

"OMFG, fuck, OMFG, fuck, damn, fuck, damn it, Timmie! I mean, my momma still tries to, you know, fix my life by spying on me and she could catch you over here some fucking, fuck time, Timmie! And you wonder why I'm pissed off literally all the time! And when did you switch over to cotton jammies?"

Ahh, see, that last question sounded so much calmer, right, so I was winning.

"Oh, your momma spies on you alright, Todd, but she never helped me clean your mirrors or your toaster, but she did help with me with my internal struggle if beige was close enough to a sand tan color for my undies, which I deemed as riding the line and by the way, your mom has been getting clean lately and she's just 100% on the bottle now, no drugs, so?"

"OMFG, OMFG, OMFG! Load my gun! Wait, buy me a gun first and then fucking damn, fucking, damn load it and then give me my softball bat so I can finish the fucking damn fucking job!"

And maybe sometimes his generational anger issues take over the calm again, I mean, so you just have to keep working it until it's all out and he flips his switch, right? It's just something else to deal with, I guess, but loners learn early how to deal with these things.

Anyways, while I give my best friend, Todd, a moment to lower his blood pressure and lose a little red from his face, I mean, did I make it clear above that I'm loner who peeks around the corner a little bit? And is there a "body type" for all tomboys? The tomboy crew that I have spied on a couple of times pretty much seem to look about the same, you know, thin as all get out, thin striped pullovers, large fuller breasts, flared hips without large butts, so, is there a tomboy body style?

Oh, my best friend Todd is breathing normal again, so.

"I found a jammies sale at the Tomboy PJ Shop on the Strip, Todd, during the daytime hours and I went crazy between cotton, satin, nylon blended and some type of other weird material. So, are you calming down, Todd? I really want to talk to you about your softball friend, Brad, so?"

"OMFG, damn, fuck, fuck, damn, damn, OMFG, no, no, no, no, damn fuck no, fuck no!"

Well, we'll give Todd a minute more then. Wait, hold please, I might as well get one more internal energy expending thing out right now so he calms down quicker, so, hold please.

"Todd, why do they call it a nighttime softball league, hmm?"

"Bejesus fucking hell, Timmie, because we all have fucking adult daytime fucking jobs and at night is the only fucking time that we can fucking play fucking damn to hell softball!"

So, while Todd is representing his generation by breathing like a dragon as he calms down, here's what happened then. His ball player friend, Brad, I mean, I noticed it right away, but he has been walking with a favor in his step. Not a limp, just a favor and every few minutes, his hand instinctively goes down in a flat palm motion to his groin area, just for a moment before he instinctively pulls it back up, but from what I saw, he has some sort of groin pull injury, which maybe many sports men get, but one wrong swing of the softball bat or one wrong sliding catch and boom, right? Or is it "tear" then, hmm? Either way, ouch, so I wanted to bring that up to my best friend, Todd, because you know guys, right? They won't seek medical attention on their own until something actually falls off!

Oh, and one more story house cleaning item, since my best friend, Todd, plays softball on the city's nighty nighttime league and since the ballfields are so close to our neighborhood, I found a shadow spot in the western upper corner of the bleachers where I use up some of the hours on my loner clock and watch the nighty nighttime games once or twice a week. My loner corner up high in the bleachers stays pretty cleared out, but I think my best friend, Todd, appreciates a fan, so, it's my loner corner where I mind my own business and bounce my legs up and down using the balls of my feet and my tippy toes, so that's where you might find me any given night of the nighty nighttime softball games.

Oh, and since it's my loner corner, my attire expressions are mostly Denim shorts, north of the slut line and south of the conversative line. I mean, I may live under a rock, but I'm comfortable in my skin, so.

And why is it that people say my thighs look thicker when I sit down anyways? And then back step by adding "but so smooth" as they "tee he" lurk behind their shadows of their keyboards?

Anyways, back to my medical evaluation for Brad, my best friend Todd's friend.

And I even considered that a strained groin area might be normal since they basically just finished up their practices and just started the season, but still, right, if I saw you favoring your walk or limping, I would at a minimum ask you what was wrong, so, that's what I did recently. Not with you, of course, but with Brad. Off to the side of the ball field since they basically only light up the ball field.

And by the way, city of Middleton, I mean, ahem, did you guys buy that ball field lighting system way back in the 1800's? Sheesh. It's like candles in a jelly jar! At least have Mrs. Bentley conduct a fund raiser for Pete's sakes! And it doesn't even have to be huge fund raiser like Mrs. Bentley is huge!

"(Giggles)"

And by another way, city of Middleton, I mean, off to side is brighter than I thought it would be, so could you tone down the bright field lights just a tad? Sheesh. Guys get nervous when talking to a guy who goes by the name Timmie instead of Timmy and where they could be seen talking! Sheesh.

"Well, Brad, all I wanted to do was to bring it to your attention that I noticed that you favor your walk and your hand instinctively respond to the discomfort, so, you can risk the rest of the season by ignoring it, rest up on your own or let the problem take you off of the field, which might happen, Brad, so?"

"Your shorts are a little risqué tonight, Timmie, do they cause you any discomfort, huh?"

"Oh, well, um, you have a groin injury, Brad and that's what we're talking about, so, do with that what you will with my medical evaluation then. Also, tee he."

"Oh, wait, tee he, what then, Timmie?"

"I mean, tee he, for how it must be discomforting for your hands right now since they can't make their way under the waistband of my risqué Denim shorts in the back because of how tight they fit me around the waist then, so?"

Well, you know, when two people talk face to face and that close, I mean, that's a perfectly normal place for a pair of hands to settle into or onto, right? Also, damn, Denin shorts, right? They are like a damn tank and it's no wonder they piss off dates sometimes!

"Is something, something happening here then, Timmie?"

"Oh, Brad, if something, something was happening here, off to the side and as we talk in the somewhat dark like this, I mean, my shorts would need to be unbuttoned to release the pressure around my waist so that your hands could get where they are trying to get, so?"

So, I don't know enough about who has the responsibility to get the ball rolling by being the first to unbutton something, so, well, I'm just going back to my conversation with my best friend Todd, to see if he calmed yet, so.

"Anyways, Todd, what I wanted to talk to you today about how your ball player friend, Brad, seemed to have made a move on me the other night. Well, I think he made a move on me, so?"

"Again, this is why my generation is always pissed off! There is no damn fucking to hell "think" about that type of stuff, Timmie, it's he fucking did or he damned didn't! And by the damn fucking way, I don't damn fucking want to hear any fucking more!"

See, folks? This is why I pray to not make it to 22! But I think I was still winning his anger over.

"Brad put his hands on me while we were chit chatting in the dark, Todd."

"Ooh, give me scoop on that then, Timmie and don't skimp on the details!"

Ahh, sex is better than any blood pressure pill, right? Even if it's just more sexually driven chit chat with details than actual sex.

"Okay, Todd, here's what happened. I was just giving Brad my opinion on what I believe to be..."

"Wait, Timmie, who started it with a walk into the dark for this chit chat then, huh? Details!"

"Oh, I started that, Todd, for sure, but that was like the easiest thing that I've ever done in my life, so, um, let's call a tie for how he followed my lead. Anyways, I believe that he has a pulled or strained groin and I don't think he's doing anything about or even talk to you about it or even say something to the coach about it, so that's what started our talk in dark and for another detail on that, I whispered a little something to the Coach about it already, so?'

"Oh, so, what did Coach say then, Timmie?"

"Oh, he asked me if I wanted a hit from his blunt and if I would try out for the team's cheer team, but since the try outs were in the back of his van because he doesn't have a coach's office, I declined that. Anyways, I just wanted someone to know that there may be an issue and I don't want you to freak out if you see me sitting up the bleachers with just one eye black stripe under my left eye like Brad applies it, so?"

"Oh, one eye black out strip like Brad then, huh, Timmie? You want a contact date with Brad then. It's in the details, Timmie, it's in the details!"

Oh, my best friend, Todd, not only does he tolerate me prancing around his house in my jammies because he likes my body, I mean, he loves his stories to be detailed.

"Well, we were talking very close up and personal and maybe his hands ended up half on my butt because that's a natural place for hands to land when two people speak that closely, so..."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, Timmie, details, were Brad's hands half on your ass like in half on your lower back and half on your globes or was it more like his hands cupped the full of your globes, but then only half squeezing them, hmm?"

Tee he, my best friend, Todd and his need for details, right?

"Oh, ooh, it was like a third option where his hands were both sliding straight down, starting from under my softball super fan shirt and against my lower back, but then they ran into the super tight fit of the waistband of my shorts, which was when I went up on my tippy toes and pucker kissed him on the bottom of his jawbone because that's as high as my lips would reach, but at the same time, I redirected one his hands down to the button on my shorts because I didn't know who was responsible to unbutton the shorts, which he unbuttoned and that released the pressure around my waist and allowed him to go back to sliding his hands straight down the rear of shorts and then I think I passed out when cars started to move about and their crisscrossing headlamp beams shined on us, which broke up the very lustful moment, I guess, Todd, so?"

"Aha, aha, aha, I'm going to pass out from this lustful story, Timmie!"

Tee he, my best friend, Todd, rubs himself during our story time, but I ignore that. It's a part of our harmless chit chats.

"Well, all I'm saying, Todd, is that your teammate has a groin issue, but since it actually felt so amazing to have a pair of hands on my bare globes because even as a loner, I wear a thong so often, and I got lost in the moment and found out that a guy with a strained groin can still get hard. The end."

"Aha, aha, aha, that is not the end, Timmie!"

"And I'm pretty sure that Brad wants me to go down on him before his strained groin takes him down."

"Okay, aha, aha, aha, story time is over, Timmie [fap, fap, fap] aha, aha, aha."

I did not blow Brad. I do not know how to do that. I mean, well, that's not what my story is about. But tee he, a guy with a pulled groin can still get so hard. Or so I read in a medical book. The other end.

And by the way, we're moving on to the next nighty nighttime game, which pisses off Todd when I say it that way because apparently, it's a just night league and not a nighty nighttime league. LOL, adults, right? I mean, I seriously have no interest in turning the ripe old adult age of 22. Sheesh.

But before I move on to the next nighty nighttime softball game that I attended, I mean, maybe it's the normal for nighty nighttime leagues to wear fairly cheap silkscreened t-shirts as their nighty nighttime softball uniforms and shoe polish for their eye blackout strips, but I at least went to the Generic Baseball Jersey Shop on the Strip and bought a real, yet generic short sleeved pin striped baseball jersey shirt and a package of peel off eye blackout strips so they were perfect! I mean, old people and their shoe polish, right?

Also, wearing a team neutral pin striped baseball jersey shirt, unbuttoned and un-tucked over any t-shirt is one of my new looks for literally anywhere. One eye blackout strip included. Under the left eye. Like Brad wears it. Not that I'm leeching or latching onto Brad.

But I liked how I looked sitting in bleachers, bouncing my feet and legs in shorts and with the occasional bare legs, occasional, mind you, and a few people finally noticed me too. Not that my empty corner changed or anything, but the glazes and the stares, right? Which were not the worst, but they were what started the timer clock for my upcoming fifteen minutes of fame.

And this time, Brad with the one left side eye blackout strip approached me first.

"Hey, Timmie, what's with this talking that you do on the side with Todd, huh?"

"It's not much, Brad and I promise that I leave as soon as I notice that he's rubbing his crotch in a fury and I promise that I never stood still as his whacking off material, but he's getting up there in the years and he likes to hear my stories, but I swear, he whacks off alone!"

Oh, didn't I mention that part, tee he? Todd so wants to whack off on my butt! LOL, uh-huh! Well, maybe someday because he is wearing me down, but not now, but maybe since he is getting up there in the years.

"Damn old geezer! Anyways, you look nice in your baseball jersey and eye stripe patch, but the game is about to start, so I need to get into the dugout, so, did you or did you not hump me back the other night then, hmm?"

"Oh, if you have to ask then, Brad, then I did it all wrong because I thought I humped and bumped you back just perfect! Or maybe I was being too gentle about that out of fear of your pulled groin muscles, so?"

"Well, Timmie, just because I'm beginning to think you were right about that, doesn't mean that you were right about that, but I think you were right about that, so?"

Ah-hah! Hearing that you were right is as good as being noticed in the bleachers!

"Oh, well, it's a good thing that we're not sexual then, Brad. Um, tee he, I can feel eyes on us, so, go do whatever it is you do in the dugout and I'll bounce my bare legs up in the corner as usual then [mwah], sorry about that quick kiss on the jawbone, bye!"