Friday, September 24, 2010

Burntcore Week 18: Special Boy


A little late, but we don't judge.

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Picture 2

Burntcore's Choice: Both

Special Boy

I remember coming here as a small child. I haven’t been here in years, can’t believe it’s been this long. My Momma used to swing with me out in the meadow before we headed out to the shore to play in the surf. I loved those times. I was her special boy. She always told me I was her special boy.

And now Momma’s special boy was back.

Even after Momma left her special boy. Guess I wasn’t that special after all.

Momma left me and Papa when I was eight years old. I came home from school, the last day of school for the year, and Momma was in her bedroom, packing her suitcase with another woman I had never seen before. The strange woman seemed to know Momma very well. Momma seemed sad but excited as she packed. I watched Momma with a calm that eight year olds normally do not have. Something about the tableau before me made me keep my lips sealed. Something about it was wrong.

As Momma closed the top of her suitcase, the other woman leaned over and kissed my Momma, like my Papa did. When Papa would kiss Momma, she’d lean into him and sigh. This time, Momma moaned and ran her hands down the woman’s side. Her reaction confused me.

“I love you, Claire,” Momma whispered softly.

What? No! She’s supposed to love Papa and me, her special boy! Why was she saying this? Big, fat tears started to roll down my chubby cheeks, but I didn’t make a sound. Why was Momma saying this?

“I love you, too, Sarah,” the other woman said, wrapping her arms around Momma’s waist.

”I can’t believe we’re doing this,” Momma said. “What am I going to say to Leo? Not to mention Russ. How I can really do this?”

“Sarah, we’ve talked about this. Russ is a good dad. He’ll be able take care of Leo. Haven’t you felt neglected long enough?” Claire asked, brushing a strand of Momma’s dark blonde hair out of her face.

“Yes, but-“

“But nothing! You know you want this, to be together.”

I didn’t understand. They were lying. Momma and Papa were together. Not Momma and this strange woman. She was ruining everything! I had to do something. Standing as straight as I could, as tall as any eight year old boy could, I wiped the tears from my eyes and walked into my Momma’s bedroom.

“Momma, what are you doing? Where are you going?”

I glared at the woman my Momma called Claire. Momma turned away and I saw her shoulders shake out of the corner of my eye.

Claire smiled and knelt down to be eye-level with me. “Leo, your momma and I are going away for a little while. She-“

I interrupted this lying, evil woman with a strong shove, knocking her back onto her butt. “You’re lying!” I screeched. “Momma said she’d never leave her special boy. She told me so!”

Claire grimaced as she stood up. “Sarah, do something with your son,” she ordered coldly.

Sniffling, Momma turned around and knelt down before me like the lying woman did. “Leo, you will always be my special boy, no matter where I am. I need to do this.”

My tears started up again as I looked up at her, her face streaked with tears and her brown eyes red and puffy. “But why, Momma? Ain’t me and Daddy enough?”

“I’m sorry, Leo. Someday you’ll understand,” she said softly. Momma stood up and kissed the top of my head.

Twenty years later, the only thing I understood was that women were lying, evil creatures, never to be trusted.

Oh sure, I tried the girlfriend thing in high school. I had finally let my guard down long enough to let this sweet, dark blonde haired girl in. Just when I thought I might be in love with her, and she might be my special girl, she proved once again that women couldn’t be trusted. I walked into the boy’s locker room of my high school and saw her with another guy’s dick buried deep into her slit as she cried out in pleasure.

I turned right around and immediately swore off women or anything that bled for a week each month and lived.

Back at the shore, I walked along the boardwalk, trying to forget about the happy times of my childhood, before Claire came into the picture. I hoped Jordan would help me make happier memories. He was my special boy now.

Just thinking about him was enough to help center me. My mind went back to last night in the hotel as we were in bed. I was upset, being here again, and he knew it. Jordan did what he did best to make me feel better. He could suck a cock like none other. And his hands. His hands alone were enough to make my body harden.

Trying not to distract myself too much, I shook my head clear of my Jordan fueled fantasies. I was here for a reason. I, for the first time in my life, wanted to try to exorsize the demons that had been following me since that fateful day. While I would never be interested in women romantically, I needed to deal with these issues in order to be a productive member of society.

I walked to the end of the boardwalk and hesitated before I stepped into the soft sand. The waves crashed gently, soothing my troubled mind. Familiar footsteps behind me relaxed me further.


I felt the tightness between my shoulders lessen as Jordan’s low, soft voice said my name.

I turned my head back over my shoulder and gave him a small smile. I needed his presence here to help me get through this. Jordan’s footsteps continued until he was standing next to me in the sand. He took my hand in his, squeezing it gently.

Taking a deep breath, we walked hand in hand towards the tide. The waves were starting to come in faster and louder. We stared into the surf for awhile without saying anything. He and I didn’t need to speak, he knew what I needed right now.

I glanced down at my watch and sighed. “It’s time, Jordan,” I murmured.

He smiled sadly as he leaned over and kissed me softly, his tongue barely brushing my lips. Not satisfied with just a simple kiss, I pulled his hand that was still in mind behind my back, pulling his hard chest against mine abruptly. My other hand wrapped around his neck and held him there as I dipped my tongue into his mouth.

We pulled apart, resting our foreheads together. I kept my eyes closed and just breathed in his scent.

A perfume I hadn’t smelled since I was a boy invaded my nostrils. It raised the hairs on the back of my neck and made my heart start beating furiously.

I turned towards the boardwalk where the scent was coming from. Jordan’s grip on my hand tightened as we gazed at the person before us.

“Hello Leo,” she said.