Under His Wing

By Joe Hunter

Published on Mar 17, 2009

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All the usual disclaimers apply:

+This story is a work of fiction. If you think it is real, you have a very active imagination.

+Do not read this story if you live in an area where it is illegal to do so.

+Scenes of sexual activity between an older teen and a younger boy are represented. Do not read further if this offends you.

+Please do not imitate the actions portrayed herein - the author cannot accept responsibility for any actions promoted by this story.

If you would like to get in touch, please e-mail me at:

hunterjoe45@yahoo.com

You can find my other stories by checking my listing in the prolific authors section of nifty.

I hope you enjoy reading this story as much as I enjoyed writing it. Joe ____________________________

UNDER HIS WING (copyright 2008, Joe Hunter)

"Cap!" ... "Hi, Cap! ...

The greetings started even before I got on the bus - every kid trying to get in the act.

As a rule seniors don't ride the bus if they can help it (I hadn't since getting my license the previous year), and when they do, the last thing they want is to be noticed. But staying clear of the spotlight was impossible for me. As football team captain, homecoming king, class president and just about everything else, I was the most recognizable guy in school. Every dweeb underclassman and his buddy wanted to wave hello so it would look like they knew me.

More greetings rang out when I climbed aboard and turned sideways to work my way down the narrow center aisle of the bus. Up front the seats were crowded with giggling young girls, all giving me the look. I grinned back without offering any encouragement and then sidled along until I got to the rear where familiar faces waited.

"Hey, Cap!" Little Gee, the freshman team quarterback was beaming at me. Next to him his friend Po'Boy, one of the freshman offensive tackles, had a big grin for me as well. In the seat behind them TeeBo the lanky JV running back kept one arm around his girlfriend while with the other he threw me a mock salute.

"Yo, Cap," he drawled. "What's up?"

From a bench on my right came a rumbling growl. "You lost, Cap?" Crankshaft, the big JV center, was grinning up at me, his wide form taking up nearly two seats.

I smiled at all of them and held out a palm for Little Gee to slap. "Hi guys. My ride's busted. I got a lift this morning but this afternoon you're stuck with me."

Everyone laughed and TeeBo called out, "'Bout time you come hang with the real deal."

"Yeah, Cap," Crankshaft, told me, trying to keep a straight face. "Season's over now. You old guys is has-beens. You hangin' with the up and comers here." With a sweeping gesture he motioned to a bench across the aisle. "Take a seat."

On that side the window seat already had an occupant, a chubby kid who stuttered, "H...Hi, Cap," and looked up at me hopefully. Crankshaft leaned over and growled, "Beat it. Cap don't want no scrubs next to him," and the kid scuttled away clutching his book bag.

As I sat down Crankshaft waved grandly. "Gotta' keep the riffraff suppressed." Then he turned to grin over his shoulder at Little Gee. "'Course, we make exceptions for the few who are worthy..."

Little Gee turned red in happy embarrassment and we all laughed. Everyone knew he was the best young athlete in the school - a boy who would someday be Varsity captain in his turn, just as I had been. He looked at me and the smile on his face was a special one, with a message that I alone understood.

"Crankshaft," I said, stretching my legs into the aisle. "This is so comfortable I may never take my truck to school again. When do they serve the refreshments?" More laughter greeted this remark, not because it was that funny but because I was the captain and they liked having me there. TeeBo was leaning forward, about to make a crack of his own, when a commotion up front had us all turning our heads.

"Jerk Alert!" ... "Spaz on the Bus!" ... "Special Eddie Time!" ... "Draw a picture of a car!" ... "Somebody give him his Ritalin!"

Jeering filled the air and I saw a small, slight, blond haired boy being herded along the crowded aisle by three big kids all pushing him from behind.

"Gavin an' his crew," Crankshaft yelled to me over the din. "Ridin' the new kid again. Kid's a freshman... Real weird..."

I watched with narrowed eyes as the procession came toward me. Gavin was a JV quarterback who had ambitions of taking my place on the Varsity next year. He and the two boys with him, Crazy Eddie and a kid named X-Man, all lived on the same street and had been inseparable since Middle School. Ordinarily they were decent guys, but I didn't like what I was seeing now. The boy they were hassling was half their size, smaller than Little Gee, and he looked frightened. The poor kid was clinging desperately to a torn backpack that Gavin kept trying to grab from him, while Crazy Eddie and X-Man punched his skinny shoulders and pushed him off balance. All three were encouraging the jeering from the dweebs on the bus. The whole thing looked wrong.

I was about to put a stop to it when someone yelled, "Atomic wedgie!" and with a grin Crazy Eddie yanked the kid's underwear way up out of his ratty shorts and then gave him a shove that sent him careening along the aisle. The boy's knees hit a bench, the backpack went flying, and the kid ended up in a sprawl at my feet with his backpack and some fluttering papers landing in my lap.

"What the fuck!" I snarled.

Suddenly it got very quiet. The three juniors stared, their leering expressions changing to ones of surprise and then apprehension as they recognized me.

"Oh, shit," Crazy Eddie muttered.

Down on the floor the kid was looking up in terror, but there was something else, too - the kind of dumb appeal you might see in the eyes of an animal being abused. He cringed when I held out my hand then let me help him up.

"You okay?" I asked. He seemed dazed or else too scared to answer so I shoved him out of the way onto the window seat beside me.

"Cap, like... like, we didn't know you, like, knew him," Gavin said nervously.

I picked up the boy's scattered papers, all of which appeared to be drawings of cars, and then regarded Gavin and his buddies with a cold stare.

"We was only like havin' a little fun, Cap..." X-Man explained. Wrap-around sunglasses hid his eyes but the quaver in his voice gave it away that he was scared.

"So, what'd this kid do?" I asked them, "Steal your lunch money?"

There were titters from the rest of the bus and Crankshaft made a scornful noise.

After glancing around uneasily Gavin licked his lips and said, "The kid's goofy, Cap. Straight up, he's off the chart. He don't talk to nobody, not even teachers. He draws dumb pictures all the time..."

"He need to be on the short bus," X-Man put in.

"Yeah," Crazy Eddie blurted. "An' his clothes are like straight Salvation Army. He's makin' our bus look bad..."

This last comment drew whispers and mutterings of agreement from some of the onlookers, which Crazy Eddie acknowledged before turning back to me as if to say, "See?"

I kept my eyes on Gavin and jerked a thumb at the kid huddled in the seat next to me. "So you think there's points in this?"

To his credit, Gavin had the decency to look ashamed. "No, Cap," he answered softly.

"It takes three of you to handle him?" This I directed at X-Man and Crazy Eddie, neither of whom could look at me.

"No, Cap," Crazy Eddie murmured and X-Man shook his head.

I let them feel my displeasure for a few more seconds and then waved a hand to dismiss it. "You guys amaze me. Hassling the freshman is what sophomores are for. You're supposed to know that. There's way better targets around here for you guys. For example..."

I straightened, craning my neck a little to gaze about and heads ducked all over the bus as kids tried to avoid my eye.

"Yeah!" I grinned, catching sight of a stocky boy in the back trying to hide behind his seatmate's book bag. Raising my voice so everyone could hear me I said, "Now take Wesley for example.

"Aw, no Cap!" The stocky boy whined, but he grinned without looking the least bit scared. Wesley was an overgrown sophomore who I knew could handle himself.

"Gavin?" I asked. "How many of your passes did Wesley drop this season?" The Junior quarterback glanced at his two buddies and then smiled back at me.

"At least ten, Cap."

"Seems to me that rates a wedgie or two. Think you guys can handle it?"

With big grins on their faces the three boys went past me heading for Wesley's seat and moments later general mayhem broke out back there. The shouts and laughter were still going on when the bus engine roared, drowning everything out, and we lurched off down the driveway heading for the road.

Exhaust fumes drifted along the aisle, reminding me how much I hated riding the bus and I shifted around trying to get comfortable before turning to the kid beside me.

"You okay?"

The boy was sitting with his head down. He nodded without looking up and I took him by the chin, lifting his face so I could check for bruises or bleeding. He held still, keeping his eyes cast down as I turned his head from side to side searching for any sign of injury, and at the same time admiring his delicate, almost dainty features. The boy's sun bleached hair, long in the back and chopped short on the sides, fell across his forehead in wisps of fine-spun gold. When I let go of his chin to brush some strands back gently he looked up at me. His eyes were the color of pale topaz.

"Let's see your knees," I told him. "You hit pretty hard when you went down."

His baggy utility shorts, paper thin from many washings, were a faded nondescript gray. The boy leaned back to let me pull up the right side and I saw that his slender leg was hairless. When I caressed the swell of muscle in his calf the skin was satiny smooth beneath my palm. I ran my fingertips over the delicate knee joint then onto the inside of his thigh before giving his leg a pat and moving to the left one. On that side the boy lifted himself to let me slide his pant leg well above his knee and then held still as I pressed and rubbed, stroking my palm along the velvety warmth on the inside of his thigh.

"Looks like you'll be okay," I said giving him another pat and pulling the edge of his shorts back down. "Now, lean forward."

The boy glanced at me then did as he was told and when I lifted the back of his shirt I saw that his underwear briefs were still wedged up. "Hold on a sec." I struggled out of my Varsity Jacket and draped it carefully over his lap. "There. Fix yourself up," I told him. "It's okay. Nobody's gonna' see anything."

The boy's eyes flicked to mine in a pathetically grateful look. Then he put his hands under the jacket. While he fumbled, straightening out his clothes, I examined his book bag, which was still in my lap along with the loose papers I had gathered up for him.

The cheap notebook papers were covered with drawings of cars, some recognizable and others that were pure fantasy. "These are really good," I said, shuffling through the pages. "You're an artist. Wish I could draw like this."

Out of the corner of my eye I caught another of the boy's furtive glances but could not tell if he was still fearful or just shy. "Listen," I assured him, "Nobody's gonna' be botherin' you anymore. Check this out..."

By then the bus was out on the highway, the roar of its engine so loud I had to lean across the aisle to get Crankshaft's attention. "Grab Gavin for me, will ya'?"

"Sure, Cap."

Moments later the JV quarterback was crouched in the aisle by my seat and Crankshaft's beefy features were peering over his shoulder.

"Listen," I told them, jerking my thumb toward the boy sitting next to me. "This kid's a friend of mine. Nobody messes with him. Got it?"

"Yeah," Gavin nodded.

"Nobody gets on him," Crankshaft growled. "We got it."

"You guys keep an eye on him for me."

"Yeah... Uh-huh..." They both nodded solemnly.

"I don't want any of those pussy-ass freshman or sophomore punks teasin' him either."

"They won't, Cap," Crankshaft assured me.

After staring at both of them for a few more seconds I waved a hand in dismissal. "Okay..."

Gavin went back down the aisle to his seat and Crankshaft settled back in the one across from me rumbling, "It'll be just like you say, Cap."

Turning to the boy I asked, "You hear that?"

He nodded and met my eyes for a moment before dropping his gaze again. My Varsity Jacket was still draped over his lap and I slipped a hand beneath it, letting my palm rest on his leg. Under my fingers his thigh was a firm smooth curve. I gave it a quick squeeze.

"You can stop worrying. Nobody bothers my friends. What's your name?"

He lifted his head and faced me just long enough to say, "Timmy." Then he got all shy and looked down again. I stroked his thigh, smiling to show him it was okay.

"You know who I am, right?"

He nodded without looking up.

"My friends call me Cap, so that's what you call me - okay?"

There was another nod and a brief flick of his eyes toward me.

"So, you like cars?"

"Uh-huh."

The answer came so softly I could barely hear it over the noise around us. I kept rubbing him under the jacket, stroking along the inside of his thigh, sliding the worn cloth of his shorts over the silky skin beneath, and the boy parted his legs so I could push further up toward his crotch. There the edge of my hand detected a hint of something hard under his clothes.

"You like NASCAR?"

"Uh-huh."

"Who's your favorite driver?" I already knew the answer. The cars in his drawings all had the number twenty-four on them.

"Jeff Gordon."

"Aw' right!" I squeezed his thigh. "Minds Jimmie Johnson. We're teammates!"

Timmy glanced at me again and I could tell this had made him happy. I smiled at him and slid my palm back and forth on his leg stroking the curve of muscle beneath the shorts.

"Your legs are kinda' strong here. You play any sports?"

Another glance at me, a fearful one this time, and he shook his head.

"That's okay," I said quickly, giving him another pat. "You like cars. That's cool. How 'bout motorcycles? You like to race motorcycles? You got the right build for it. Bet you'd be good."

Gently I kept working my palm upward, pushing into his crotch with the edge of it. "Make a muscle," I told him.

The boy half-straightened his leg, lifting it slightly, and I stroked the tightened curve of his thigh, letting the edge of my palm rub against the hardness in his shorts. Timmy squirmed a little trying to part his legs further under my jacket, and I felt the hardness stiffen even more. Gradually I let my palm glide up over the thin worn fabric that covered his groin crease and the boy tightened his leg for me again while I rubbed the top of his thigh. Continuing to work upward I went beneath his loose shirt, and than over the edge of the shorts onto the smooth bare skin of his stomach.

"You got some good muscle here too," I told him, brushing my fingertips over the silky warmth. Timmy glanced at me in a way that was almost worshipful and shifted position to make it easier for my hand to move around his lean waist. He had a slight, slender body and I could sense the delicacy of it as I caressed the silky hollow between ribs and hip. When my fingers slid along the edge of his shorts Timmy leaned back and sucked in his stomach, inviting me to push down but instead I took my hand from beneath the jacket because I heard someone approaching in the aisle. It was Little Gee and when I turned he was there, crouching next to me, eyes dancing with excitement.

"Cap, we still goin' trail ridin' tomorrow?"

"Hell yes," I said, giving him a conspiratorial grin and the boy smiled back happily. I fumbled in my pockets for the plastic baggie of loose joints I had saved for him and after checking that no one was watching, passed them over. "I'll have the truck ready by then," I said watching Gee hide the baggie under his shirt. "The weather's gonna' be perfect. We'll take the bikes all the way up to the Lake. When we come back we can go over and cruise the malls."

This brought an even bigger smile to the boy's face and the tip of his tongue poked out between his lips as he looked at me slyly. The lake was our secret place, the place where I had first had him three summers before. Since then we had done it in lots of other places, including the back of my truck and the football locker room, but the lake was still his favorite place to go.

From the beginning Little Gee had liked it rough and the setting of the Lake, a spot so far back in the wilderness that few went there, seemed to excite him. When we rode to it he always went naked under his leathers. At the hidden cove where we parked he would come into my arms so I could unzip the slick jacket and pants, wanting me to lick his slim muscular body for the tang of his boy sweat while I stripped him slowly. Once he was naked, he liked to straddle his motorcycle, rubbing his crotch against the seat while I unzipped myself. Then he would lean forward, pushing the firm mounds of his butt toward me and beg me to take him. He liked for me to ram it in, making him arch and gasp as I penetrated his rectum, and then when I slid in and out the boy would push back squirming against my thrusts groaning, "Harder Cappy... More... Do it more... Harder..." and I would keep pumping until his young body was jerking beneath mine.

Afterwards, lying on a blanket at the soft grassy verge of the Lake I would take him again, thrusting up into his rectum while holding an arm around his neck and rubbing his jutting boner. Over and over the boy would breath-hold to the limit of consciousness, arching and shuddering in climax as warm slippery drops rolled off his tip onto my stroking fist. In the end, his head would loll back and I would hold his hard slender body in my arms, feeling the pounding of his heart under my palm...

Now we grinned at each other and touched fists. Then he got up to go back to his seat, all his movements graceful as a young dancer's. Following him, my eyes undressed the boy picturing the smooth, satiny perfection I would have in my arms the next day and seeing as well the changes that were overtaking it - the coltish look of his growing legs and the tuft of downy hair that surrounded the base of his thickening penis. Little Gee was developing, following the pathway into adolescence that would lead him away from me to his own identity. Already our relationship was changing. Now when we were together, the talk was less about the things we did ourselves. Instead Little Gee probed me for advice on leadership, peer relations, schoolwork, plans for the future - and girls. He drank in every word I gave him, particularly the ones on that last topic, and with my discrete help he had begun his first explorations into the vast unknown continent of the opposite sex.

I cared for him far too much to be jealous of any of this and was confident our special bond would endure in some form no matter what happened. But I was human enough to mourn the passing of the youngster he would never be again. Our times at the lake were coming to an end. Tomorrow might not be the last one, but I knew quite well that when Little Gee accompanied me to the mall there would be a flock of girls around him the moment we arrived. He would grin at me and handle it well, the way he did everything well, and I would be proud of him the way I always was. But it would be one more sign of the changes that were taking place.

The bus lurched around a curve and I turned back to the boy sitting next to me. Timmy glanced up, a quick shy look, and I asked, "So, where do you live? Sunset Village?"

It was a guess but the welfare clothes gave it away and when he nodded I wasn't surprised. Sunset Village was a low rent trailer park in the woods off the State road, populated mainly by old people and transients. I was willing to bet Timmy went home every day to an empty unit and had no friends his own age.

"Listen," I said. "I gotta' finish up a brake job on my truck this afternoon. Unless you gotta' go home right away you wanna' hang with me and help out? We could like..."

He was nodding even before I finished, looking at me with such grateful eagerness it made me smile. "That's cool," I told him. "When we get done we can try a little four wheelin'."

The boy still held my Varsity Jacket draped over his lap and when I moved my hand he lifted it so I could push underneath. The instant my palm stroked over his shorts I knew something was different. I slid my hand up and found the slick hardness of Timmy's boner jutting out from an un-zipped fly and parted briefs. The boy sat very still, his eyes darting apprehensively to mine when I touched him. Then, as my fingers began rubbing up and down on the stretched skin of his rigid shaft, he parted his legs and leaned against me.

"We can get the trail bikes out, too," I told him. "I'll teach you how to ride. I got a course set up out back. You can use my old leathers. Bet you'll be a natural."

Timmy looked up at me and if I ever saw adoration in a boy's eyes I saw it then. Shyly, and with another look at me to be sure it was all right, he moved a hand onto my leg. I lifted his backpack, which I was still holding and felt a thrill shiver through me as his fingers slid into my crotch and began to explore.

"From now on you don't take the bus," I told him, leaning close to talk softly into his ear. "You ride to school every day in my truck. I want you hangin' with me."

I squeezed his rigid penis gently, pumping faster, and felt the boy tighten his butt to harden himself even more. Then he squirmed closer.

Timmy's slight build was very different from Little Gee's and I was sure he would be different in many other ways as well. As he leaned against me I pictured how it would be. First we would share the dusted joints I had been saving; then I would strip him slowly, caressing the graceful flanks of his silky young body while I kissed him, pushing my tongue deep into his mouth. When he was straddling the motorcycle, leaning forward with his slim, rounded butt pushed toward me, I would part his crease and insert a gentle finger, lubricating him with fragrant coconut scented oil, pushing up and sliding my fingertip over the little nub at the base of his hard penis while he squirmed, writhing against the leather seat. When he was ready, I would teach him how to bear down so his dainty anus would open like a flower. Then as his small butt thrust back I would lean over him, easing the blunt tip of my jutting rod into his opening. The boy would moan softly as his ring stretched and than, when I popped through, he would give a little cry and quiver with passion as I slid up into his hot sweetness for the first time...

"You get off the bus with me," I whispered into his ear. "I'll tell you when to get ready."

Timmy nodded, looking up at me, his eyes alive with anticipation and excitement.


Thanks for taking the time to read my story and if you'd like to comment, my e-mail address is:

hunterjoe45@yahoo.com

I will try to answer all serious mailings. Rants and ravings will not get consideration.

You can find my other stories by checking my listing in the prolific authors section of nifty.

All the Best. Joe

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