Rain on Me

By Sammie G

Published on Jan 20, 2004

Gay

Where was this place? I found myself lost in this new urban kingdom. I had once been the most popular boy in my last school, but now I was just another new boy. No, this was even different than the normal new boy. I was the new boy who was looked at, hated and envied. The enviousness had never come new to me. It was something that had existed throughout my childhood.

My name is Damien. I am 15 years old and mulatto. My mother is a German and my father is African American. My mother died when I was much younger and I found myself living in endless places depending on whom my father was with at the time. This place was different than the other places I had been because this woman was different than the other woman my father had been with. Her name was Dina. She was by far the most attractive woman my father had ever been with. She hated me though. Her attractiveness was only skin deep. Her heart was black as coal. I didn't bother even talking to her most of the time. My father seemed to be stuck in love with her and I had no choice but to submit to her.

I once thought I was unable to love. I was never attracted to girls or boys. No one ever really appealed to me, but the stars in the movies. I loved all of the stars and dreamt about the stars. I found myself falling in love with people I didn't know on a screen that seemed so far. I wanted to be like them. I wanted to be a celebrity and fall in love like those sweethearts in the movies. I was truly just attracted to myself in real life. Normal people never seemed to attract me. I wasn't the most beautiful person ever. I was dark for a mulatto and looked like I just a black boy with light skin. My hair was cut very short and it was wavy with grease. I was 5'9 and 140 pounds. My lips were my biggest features because they were so big! They seemed almost twice the size of every else. At times they could be a curse...but other times they were a great gift. I would lick my lips and for that moment, everyone envied my lips. The most attractive thing about me was my style. I dressed like a star would. I didn't know when it came about. It had almost been a year since I started wearing the best clothes. I found a way to become better than everyone around me was. The clothing drew me more attention than anyone did. The way I carried the clothing was even more, anyone could own fine clothing, but no one could really own these clothes. I was a poetic person and artistic. I was better in English than in Mathematics. I played piano instead of playing basketball. Still, I was the most masculine person in my family (even outside my immediate family).

"Ay yo! Where we catch the bus at?" I asked some girl standing at the bus stop. I knew that I could speak very good English, but myself constantly using street slang to fit in.

"Right here."

The girl was staring at me, out of her way. I knew it was because of the outfit I had on. It was a red flight jacket with red timbs that no one else had! I also had one a red bandana tied around my head and red gloves on my hands. I always matched.

"You new?" Another girl asked.

This other girl stood separate from the others. She was a fat girl who seemed really friendly. Her forwardness seemed to confront my shy, yet enticing attitude.

Her name was Tiara. From that day on, we became friends. She was very talkative. She was the first one to inform me about the school that we went to. It was a small school. It was much smaller than the other schools I had attended. It had more ethnicity than I was used to. It was an urban and a place that was full of passion. I had never seen so many attractive people in one place. For the first couple of days, I was lost in silence, not speaking a word to anyone except Tiara. I felt like I had finally found my movie, where I would be the star. Still, the silence that I had was disturbing. I didn't want to be quiet, but it seemed like everyone in this school knew one another. They all had their places in the school community and it had no room for me. The first couple of days were slow where all I got were awkward stares.

It was the last period class when I met him. He was the only other mulatto in the school. He was shy just like I was, but his beauty was flawless. He was shy with his words though. He rarely spoke, probably because he didn't know how beautiful his voice sounded. Everyone knew he was fine. Everyone knew that he was probably one of the best. He had long hair that he had braided in individual locks. His skin was the color of caramel. He was short though, not as short as the girls were, but he was shorter than I was. The first couple of days, he meant nothing to me. Then slowly I was starting to notice that he was the finest one in the class. Then all of a sudden, in my head, he was the finest in the school. I didn't even know his name. I had a crush.

That night, when I finally admitted I had a crush, I went home. I lay in my bed against the wall. The heat in me had seemed like a hot song. My hands began to dig into pants, grabbing my crotch. It was warm. I was rubbing it now, until I finally let it out of my pants. The cold breeze blew up against my cock. It stimulated it to get almost completely erect. I started stroking with body lotion that smelled like chamomile. It was so slippery and wet. It slipped out of my hands a few times, but then still stood like a statue in its full 7-inch tower. I found myself getting naked, found myself thinking about him. He was a nameless cat that had me mesmerized. I moaned deep, so deep than my groin urged forward as if it was thrusting into Eric. I moaned and played with the tip of my cock. I was pulling harder by now and feeling the heat rising in the room. I wanted him there and helping me out with my hard cock. I started panting and moaning at the same time. It was the most passionate time that I ever had. My inner thighs parted so far until they were at different ends of the bed. My pubic hair was curled and rugged. I jerked even harder than I did before. I dreamed of this stranger. I didn't know who he was. Was I gay? I didn't know why I dreamed of him. I couldn't even remember his face, but only remembered that I loved how he looked like. Then I let it go. The orgasm ran through my body making the milky cum shoot from my dick in long strides and end up on my mattress. I pulled harder, not wanting to let the feeling go until suddenly there was a knock on the door-

"Damien!" the cry churned me suddenly. It was Dina, my soon-to-be stepmother. I gasped for breath and let my cock slip out of my hands.

"Yeah, hold on!"

"Damien, why is the fucking door locked? I told you I don't like locked doors!"

I pulled up my pants and tried to wipe my man mayonnaise off my hands using the sheets from my bed. I really wasn't worried about the cum, but I was more worried because my hard-on wouldn't go down. It just stood there, I began to put pressure on it trying to push it down, but it only stimulated it more. Now what! The bitch at the door wasn't going away until I opened the door. She was so fucking stubborn.

"What you doing jerking off?"

I opened the door and sneered at her, "Of course not."

Her face looked rotten for a moment, almost like she still suspected something. She looked around the room (almost looking at the cum-soaked sheets) then she turned back towards the hallway and started walking out of the room.

"Whatever, you better get decent. My son, Robbie is downstairs and he's moving into the guestroom...to stay..."

I couldn't believe it. It had only seen Robbie twice. Once was when my father was just starting to date Dina and the other was when my grandmother died. Robbie had the looks of a star. He looked similar to Dina. The worst part of him was that he was cocky. The first time I met him, he had to tell me about how popular he was. I couldn't stand his popularity, but I didn't deny it. I did get ready. I wore nice red jeans and socks and then I put on my Gucci sweater, just to open the front door. It was a winter evening and it was cold inside the house. Dina didn't seem excited about her son moving in. They argued all the time, but it was easy to accomplish because everyone argued with Dina. I walked up to the door and opened it to see Robbie standing there. He didn't have anything with him but a backpack. I looked around, trying to see where the suitcases were, but all he did was hold up his backpack and smile.

"Robbie?"

I thought it was impossible, but he looked better than he did at first. He was probably the exact opposite of my crush. He was taller than I was and spoke confidently. He was handsome though. His lips were more on the thick side like mine and his eyes were almost slanted like Asian eyes.

"You look...good," he said suddenly. I could have said the same thing to him if I was honest, but I didn't want to gas his head up more than it already was. Then I wondered if his compliment was something that you said to a girl rather than another boy. Then again, I found myself hoping rather than seeing that in reality it was probably just a compliment.

"Where are all your stuff?"

"Um-oh yeah. Ma said we were the same size and I could borrow some of your things until she got some new clothes."

I rolled my eyes and took his backpack away from him. We were the same size so I was afraid that we might also be the same shoe size. I led him to the guestroom up the stairs. The house was really big, but all of the rooms were on the second or third floor. The first floor seemed like it was just for design because there was only a long hallway and a staircase. I knew that my father, Dina and I weren't going to be the only ones living in such a big house. It would just be a matter of time before Dina would move in the rest of her family, but I hoped by that time I would be out of the house. The guestroom was across the hall from mine and was a lot bigger than mine. I didn't care too much about the size of things though, so I didn't bug when throwing his backpack on the king-size bed.

"This house is huge."

I nodded, awkwardly, waiting for the right time to leave and continue jerking my meat until I was completely satisfied. He didn't seem so distracted like I was though. He closed the door behind him as he entered and walked me towards the ends of his big bed.

"So how you been all these years."

"Fine. You?"

"I always wondered when Ma would let me come live with her. Tell the truth I wasn't too wild about our parents hooking up like that, but now I guess it would be nice to have someone my age that is close to me."

I shook my head, not believing how drunk he was right now. I could smell the liquor on his breath even when he entered the halls. When people were drunk they usually started to reveal their emotions. I didn't really care for emotional things. I thought they were really too Disney.

"That's nice. I'll go call your mama to come tuck you in or something." I turned and found myself being confronted.

"Why you acting like shit, Damien?"

"Your drunk kid. You're imagining it," I teased, trying to find anyway to blow him off.

"Drunk. Shut up before I run over there and stick my dick down your throat," he said suddenly, "It'll probably stop that smart ass mouth of yours."

I wanted to run over there and knock the shit out of him, but I found myself almost getting an erection over how he said it. He was trying to make it more sexual than threatening. It was almost like he was hoping to do it. My eyes turned around and I could see him looking me in my eyes. He was lying down on his bed and his shirt was almost lifted to his stomach revealing his tight six-pack. He saw me watching him and his eyes were bent on mine. Then he put his hand down his stomach until it reached his pants. He dug deep into his pants until he started to play with himself beneath his pants.

"What the hell are you doing?"

He was breathing hard now calling for me, "Come over here and find out."

I paused. I was so enticed to do just that. How he lay on that bed sitting there. His eyes were calling for me. His body was calling for me. I couldn't tell if he was drunk or serious. Still I couldn't take the chance. If he were drunk, the act would be wrong. He probably didn't know what he was doing. That was when I turned back towards the door and started to leave.

"Good night, Robbie."

Next: Chapter 2


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