Her teased and frosted hair went paler in the dark shadows of the hallway and her voice bellowed out, “What are you doing!? No. As soon as my ten minutes were up I took a standing position next to his bed because his leg wouldn’t bend and I was six minutes into my blow job when I heard a rustling in the hallway and there stood Evelyn Hunter with a look of shock and rage such as I’d never seen. Trust me when I tell you I had my mouth on his cock and my eyes on the clock. He had gotten a new digital clock for Christmas and it was right by his bed. He had just gotten a new Sonny and Cher record and we struck a deal that I would suck him for ten minutes and then he had to suck me for ten minutes while we listened to side one.
In the evening his parents were usually in the TV room, so we would go up to Michael’s room and do “homework.” It was a Sunday night and Michael was in bed with his leg on a cushion. He would make himself comfortable on a bean-bag chair in the TV room with his leg elevated and I would sometimes give him blow jobs when he was in that position, making sure that I was positioned in just the right spot so that I could lean on his leg and make him scream in pain while I was sucking his dick, just so he knew who was in charge. His mother thought it was nice that I would come and keep him company. Although I wasn’t exactly his mother’s favorite person in the world, she seemed to be softening to me, as I was the only one of Michael’s friends who came to visit him on a regular basis when, due to his crutches, he was unable to pursue his Dudley Do-Right lifestyle of delivering papers, mowing lawns, and all the other activities that made him shine so brightly in the eyes of the neighborhood adults. I would have to visit him at his house, a place I generally avoided due to the tension with his older brother. Going up to the tree house became impossible. One day, when we were thirteen, Michael was hit by a car and broke his leg. Once finished, it became Michael’s and my regular spot for after-school sex. Our tree house had a door and a window, a mattress and a cooler. We decided to line our tree house with the rubber mats to keep the cold weather out, so we nailed them inside and outside the pallets with about three inches in between for insulation. We dragged a bunch of the pallets through the woods and constructed ourselves a tri-level tree house that you could stand up in, with a roof. Not far from our neighborhood, there was a plant that manufactured rubber products and behind it were huge stacks of wooden pallets with piles of rubber mats on them. In any case, they never gave me any shit about it.
Perhaps they were even titillated by the idea of my being a cock sucker. I passed a zillion sissy tests to prove how tough I was-jumping off this, riding my bike over that, setting fire to something else. In spite of the fact that I was a known faggot, the other boys either didn’t care or thought they knew better because we had all grown up together. One summer, several of the other boys in the neighborhood and I decided to make a tree house in the woods.