For Your Eyes Only
by Eliot Moore
Chapter 7 (December 2006)
Glyn insisted I come over on the weekend. He thought a couple of hours running lines with me might make up for four weeks of missed practices. We worked sporadically for an hour. It was easy to get sidelined into conversations about school, his basketball and of course girls. Glyn had grown comfortable talking about Brittany. It seemed mature to be the unconcerned exboyfriend. I was born to the part and played it well. Glyn griped about being tethered to her on marathon trips through the malls. He did not brag about their intimacies as Justin always would. Some of his infatuation with her had faded, but one of his best traits was discretion; the other was fierce loyalty. “It’s private isn’t it Si? What two people do with each other? Trust is important I think.” He said this with an anxious intensity that startled me.
Brittany interrupted our practice with a phone call. Glyn’s mother brought the phone to him. Something in her look made me think perhaps she did not entirely approve of Brittany. She handed the phone to him with a glance at me. I had difficulty reading her opinion of me. The older Flemings were cordial to me but for some reason I don’t think they knew what to think of the Métis boy from a working class neighbourhood. I sat and listened to Glyn’s one-sided conversation for a few minutes. When he rolled his eyes apologetically I gave him some space.
We had grabbed a few sodas and a bag of snacks on our way through the kitchen. I took the debris as an excuse to leave the room. I had to walk past Pino’s room on my way downstairs. The casual mess of his room drew me in. I could hear Glyn, still absorbed in his protracted conversation, in the next room. My curiosity overwhelmed me and I put the cans down on his cluttered desk. I didn’t know where Pino was. His book bag lay on the floor beside his chair. I stroked the computer keyboard. A small voice nagged at me to look at his documents. I resisted the temptation. I tried to open the drawer. It was jammed. I had to probe the space until I cleared the obstruction. When it came free I found a bent file folder on the top of a pile of school supplies.
Pino had neatly drawn Top Secret diagonally across the corner of the file with a red marker. I fingered the light tag board. It was very thin. I curled back a corner and caught a glimpse of my school picture. I don’t give them out. My mother gifts some to near relatives. The rest line the bottom of my dresser drawer. This one was a scan. I suspected Pino had made it from a picture I gave Glyn. Glyn had offered me one of his and it seemed rude not to exchange. Brittany had another. I uncharitably decided she kept a trophy wall; perhaps I was bitterer than I thought. Beneath the picture was a short list of facts and statistics about me. I scanned the page and then looked back at the words beside my picture, Simon Wallace, AKA Aasir. Following this page I found my map. Pino had annotated it with the information he had learned. On a separate page Pino had written the name Wasim. There was a rectangle with a large question mark in the middle. I decided that was the place for a picture. A few lines followed: lives in cave, keeps Aasir warm, and hates me. I closed the file and slid it back into the drawer. When I left the room, my Assiniboia Health Card was propped up on Pino’s keyboard.
Glyn’s mother was in the kitchen when I brought the cans and wrapper. Neat rows of oatmeal cookies lined the counter. I asked her where they kept the recycling and she pointed to a broom closet near the back door. “Are you done then?” she asked as I went on.
“No, we are going to go over it again. Glyn’s still on the phone.” Like a well trained dog, my mouth responded to the chocolate-rich aroma filling the room. My mother baked too. When my grandmother came to visit the two of them could spend a day chatting as they mass produced cookies, buns and pies. Jasmine and four boys kept them busy. I missed that now that it was just me in the house. My mom’s a bit heavy now, too much sampling the product perhaps. Glyn’s mother was tall and thin. I looked a lot like my dad, Glyn and Pino looked like their mother. She was cleaning up so I snagged a tea towel from the oven door and started drying for her.
“Glyn says you father works at a used book store down town?”
“Wallace Books, we own it. We have been open for a long time.” I thought briefly of my dream. Dad was content to let things slide. I wanted to be like Grandpa Peter and rebrand. I often wondered what my great grandfather had thought when his Beatnik eldest son changed his haberdashery out from under him and turned it into a book store for the hippie university crowd.
“I’ve been by there. What a lovely old building. Glyn’s grandfather was in trade. What does your mother do?”
“She’s a nurse at the General, Neonatal.” That might sound wonderful, but my mom came home depressed many days; so many deaths and complications. When she first realized I was going out with Brittany, she sat me down, pushed a box of condoms at me and made me listen to her experiences on the ward for a good hour. I can barely speak of the embarrassment today. I imagine my sister and brothers were read the same riot act each in their turn. So many teenage mothers my age passed through mom’s ward, so many bewildered adolescent boys staring wide-eyed at the unplanned life they had made.
“Yes, that’s my mom.” Glyn’s mother nodded. The smile she gave me was slightly warmer.
“Would you like a cookie?”
“Thanks,” I scooped a pair off the counter and cradled their warmth in the palm of my hand. We talked about the drama project and the play I was practicing. As I nibbled the cookies in my hand and surreptitiously took a third I realized she was building a picture of who I was and what my family was like. I suppose that was natural. What information she knew about me was referenced from Glyn. She seemed unaware that Pino and I spent time together. My impression was confirmed a few minutes later when Pino bustled into the house with neighbourhood friends.
I shifted away from the counter as the pack of eighth graders closed in on the helpless rows of cookies. The oatmeal cookies became so many harvest-ripe stalks of grain under the relentless scythes of adolescent harvesters. Two of the newcomers were boys. One was a chubby boy; the other had a lean grace and fresh face that complemented Pino’s brilliance. The chubby one was shy and awkward but the second left his hand on Pino’s shoulder as he reached around for a cookie. I caught the slight hip check they shared. Both of the girls were attractive. I absorbed their frank looks of appraisal before they turned their attention away from me and back to Pino and the good looking boy brushing up against him. I watched the friends chatter a bit, and then decided I should rejoin Glyn.
“James, you know Simon, he’s in Glyn’s class at Central?”
Pino shifted his eyes to me and smiled casually. “Sure mom, hey Si,” he dropped his eyes and busied himself with a cookie.
I studied his long eyelashes and the way his lips wrapped around the rough oatmeal for a beat and found my voice, “hey Pino.” He met my eyes again and then one of the girls distracted him with a comment. It was a good time to return to Glyn. I thanked Glyn’s mother for the cookies and went back upstairs feeling unsettled.
Glyn was still on the phone. I slipped an arm around his neck and started choking him. He giggled between comments to Brittany and tried to pry my arm away. Finally, he pressed the receiver against his leg and whispered an apology. I let him go and massaged his shoulders a moment to let him know he was forgiven while the conversation resumed. Glyn was trying to extricate himself from the conversation, but I could hear his continued pleasure. I grabbed my script and flopped onto his bed. I flipped through the pages and ran lines in my head as Glyn shifted the conversation to weekend plans. You have to take care of the girls, listen to their lives. I thought of my evening with Jessica Prefontaine the night before.
Jessica was smoking. I decided she was prettier than Brittany. She wore her dark hair very short and perhaps by design she had matched my black onyx earrings. Dilsy called us twins when the group assembled outside the movie theatre. I guess we might have been with our dark looks and matching bodies. She was my height and had a slender frame I found appealing. We didn’t sit together during the movie nor did we walk together back to Justin’s place. Once we were in Justin’s basement I sat on the arm of the chair she took. She ran a hand up my back to let me know I was welcome. That signalled to the others we were a couple.
We switched around later and she sat across my lap as we all talked and let the mood in the room shift from easy banter about school and sports to some gentle gossip about relationships. Brittany and Glyn’s relationship surfaced and Nate and Justin loyally tried a few stabs. I blunted their efforts with a comment about how happy Glyn and Brittany seemed together. Jessica tickled the back of my neck and settled in a little closer. I don’t think she liked the gossip. In time Nate changed the channel to MTV and awkwardly suggested there was an annoying glare on the TV. Nobody objected when he turned all the lights out.
Jessica and I necked in the chair. Some girls have to squeeze their heavy thighs and hips into their tight hip huggers. I could always feel the extra bulges of flesh straining through the fabric of Brittany’s jeans and the small roll around her low slung belt line. Jessica was as slender as I was and the jeans were made for her. She had a tight black t-shirt modestly tucked into her pants. As we kissed I pulled the fabric free and let my fingers explore her back. She wasn’t wearing a bra, she didn’t really need one. Her breasts were small. Later she confessed she envied girls like Brittany and Dilsy who were well developed at fourteen. I liked the soft mounds that barely lifted off her chest. The heat of her athletic body and her wandering hands felt good.
Justin took Dilsy to his room and Nate took his current girl somewhere else. Jessica pulled me away and we ended up against each other in the kitchen. I think the other couples in the basement made her shy. We talked a bit to bridge the moment; me sitting on the counter, her leaning between my legs with her hands playing with my studded belt and the back of my pants. She let me run the back of my fingers across her nipples.
Jessica was a virgin. She confessed this to me in the kitchen and I stroked her hair and told her that was okay. I was in no hurry. She was a nice person and Justin was right to suggest we would make a good couple. Tongues duelled for a while. When we broke she looked at me shyly, “Can I say something?”
“Sure” I gave her a light kiss.
“I was glad Brittany dropped you.” Her fingers pushed beneath my belt. “That makes me a bit of a bitch doesn’t it?” She cocked her head and waited for a response. I kissed her again and said nothing. “Glyn is your friend right? He seems really nice. I think he deserves better. Brittany is friends with this eleventh grader. He’s taken her to Saskatoon.” I was sorry she had told me that. I thought briefly of Glyn and how happy he was with Brittany. “You’re okay waiting? I mean it’s okay if we don’t have sex?”
“Sure Jessica, I want to get to know you before we get serious. There is no rush.” The sex did not mean that much to me. We smiled at each other glad to be friends. I kissed her again, enjoying the liquid warmth of her lips and the tickle of her tongue. I wondered what Pino’s lips would feel like. It was another game to consider, another challenge. I filed it away for further thought.
The words on the script meant nothing to me as I lay on Glyn’s bed trying to scan my lines. Glyn’s voice murmured away in the background. I remembered my first date with Jessica and struggled to understand why her memory did not erase the empty feeling I had developed since coming back from the kitchen. Pino bounced down on the bed beside me with a grin. His bicep pressed into my side. I felt a generous flood of warmth. I had to smile back at him. He dropped his head on my chest for a brief moment and lifted it again to watch me. I glimpsed the bone necklace under his shirt. “What time?” He asked in a barely audible voice. I felt light headed. His scent tickled me and I took a deeper breath to draw him into me.
My smile faded slightly. “I have to work this afternoon, Christmas rush. Dad agreed to let me shift things around, but I have to get started today when we close, tomorrow too probably.”
“Awesome Si, I told mom and dad I was going to the movies with Rob. I can ditch them and meet you there. No secret installation yet I guess.” He frowned at that.
“Guess not” It was cold in my attic.
“I better get back to the guys; see you later.” He froze; face a few inches from mine. We shared a moment’s uncertainty. I thought of his lips. Time resumed. He rolled off the bed, gave Glyn a quick punch, “get off the phone, Si’s waiting,” and then bounced to the door. He stopped once in the doorway and grinned when he saw my eyes had followed him across the room. I mirrored his look.
When I turned back to Glyn my smile faltered slightly. He was off the phone. He seemed at ease. It was as if the things that mattered most to him were in balance. I hoped his path stayed smooth. I didn’t feel in balance at all and things were not going quite as smoothly for me. My heart was pounding and I rolled onto my stomach. I flipped a few pages and tried to read the highlighted phrases. Jessica was beautiful and I wondered if we were a matched pair. She was not as experienced as Brittany, but I thought I could love her better. Only when I reached home that night and began jacking off to my memories of her; when I drew close to the brink and my fingers choked my shaft, my thoughts shifted to Pino. Childhood guilt and caution tried to keep me rooted, but a hot plow wind threatened to tear me loose and send me skirling over a bruising path toward the rising sun. I came hard and whispered a name.
It was not as if dad was letting me have his store to do with as I pleased. Dad only came around to the idea of bringing the tables and coffee bar to the front of the store when Peter agreed with me. Peter had a plan for an inexpensive new counter and serving area. I looked over dad’s shoulder as he sketched it out. Peter was a pretty good carpenter. My contribution was confined to clearing the space in the front. I was fourteen and anxious to see it work. I wished desperately that I was eighteen and had some restaurant experience. All I could see at that point was our need for an assortment of glittering new machines, special cups and vague foods people would crave. I still remember fantasizing about serving hot concoctions to a room full of people like the university student who had noticed me, all quietly chatting as they appreciated my collection of books. As I worked around the shelves I mulled over fresh store names and a cool signs for our new place. I strategized which local restaurants might hire me so I could learn the business. That was a frustrating period in my life I can tell you. I suppose I was an odd kid.
Pino came through the front door at 5:40. It had been snowing since I left Glyn’s house and Pino’s oversized hoody was covered in a light dusting of snow from his walk. He bounced right up to me and stopped about two feet short. I balanced the pile of books I was holding onto one arm, wiped a little snow off his shoulder before I pulled his hood back. As I did this, my palm brushed lightly across the side of his face and combed through his short hair. Fingertips trailed back below his ear and along the side of his neck as I pulled my hand back. It was a deeply intimate gesture and I flushed. “You’re getting water everywhere,” I concluded lamely. His eyes glittered back at me above frost-flushed cheeks.
Pino stashed his coat in the back and came back in his sock feet. He watched me for a while and then began helping me shift the rows of books off the center stacks. Dad came through from the back. He stopped to greet Pino and thank him for his help. Occasionally he pointed out where he wanted things. Otherwise he busied himself with a few last minute visitors. Dad closed the doors at 6:00 and started cashing out, “Simon, you two about ready to get out of here?” He peered at me over his glasses.
“I want to sleep in tomorrow; I thought I’d keep working for a while, make up the time.”
“Simon, I don’t need you taking the whole place apart. We are not ready to move the counter. Your brother is busy and we can’t simply shift plumbing around without permits. This is going to be complicated.” He imagined returning in the morning to utter chaos. He might have had grounds to worry, except I had other plans.
“I get it dad. Pino and I will just finish clearing these shelves. I can move these two rows to the back and bring the tables up here.” I paced out the space.
Dad came over and gave one empty shelf a slight shove. He sized us up. “Okay you two; let’s see what you can do.”
Pino looked at me dubiously. The shelves were old and heavy. He took an end and tried to lift it. We experimented with pushing it. We succeeded in tilting it dangerously before we gave up. Dad took pity on me and reminded me we had some dollies in the back. Dad helped us move the shelf back and then suggested I better leave things well enough alone till the morning. He didn’t have to remind me to lock up when I left.
Pino gamely helped me move a couple of hundred assorted titles into careful stacks at the back and then I suggested we quit. He moved a table and a pair of chairs to the front while I made him a latte. A heavy splash of almond extract went into his cup before I poured the last of the day’s coffee and carefully added the milk. He sat quietly waiting for me. I suppose he wondered how to start the game. When I sat he asked me how the practicing was going. I thought it terrible, but he said Glyn was amazed how quickly I was picking it up.
Pino took a sip and made a face. “It tastes funny.”
“I just wanted to try something new. You don’t like it?” I looked at him hopefully. He tried a little more and I could see he wanted to like the heavy flavour for my sake.
“I guess. It’s a little different Si. What is it?”
“Take some more.” He took another drink for my benefit. “What do you taste?”
“It’s sort of nutty. I don’t know maybe if it had chocolate it would taste a bit better.”
“Chocolate, what a good idea; it might mask the flavour more effectively.” Pino caught the shift in my tone and smiled uncertainly, the game was afoot. He pushed the cup away and leaned back on his chair.
“I guess I don’t feel like it right now, sorry.”
My smile took a cruel twist and I tried for a cold and hardened look. “To late 004” I spit the words out and let him know my hatred for his kind. “Did you think we would let you simply walk in here and pollute our country with your godless ideology?”
“What have you done you pig?”
“Pig, you dare insult me at my own table?”
“We had a truce. Have you no honour?”
“What honour can there be between a follower of the prophet and an infidel like you?” I drew forth the bottle and placed it on the table between us. It was the pliers again. Pino eyed the small bottle suspiciously and waited for a few more clues to set him in the right direction. “You did not notice the almond in your coffee? Was it not a little bitter on the tongue?”
“Almond, isn’t that cyanide? Si, you poisoned me.” He was on the wrong track and trying to decide if he was supposed to collapse again.
“Umm, it seemed more interesting than maple or rum extract and those were all that my mother had in the cupboard. Forget cyanide; you will only wish I ended your life so cleanly Christian boy. You have tales to tell before I release you from your torment.” Pino’s lips betrayed a smile. I was already growing hard as I spun my story for him. “Poison is too blunt hammer to bash you with. This is more subtle. Don’t you already feel the heat spreading through your body? Are you light headed and does your heart race?” Pino swayed a little. I think he planned to collapse on the floor for my benefit. We were sitting in front of the big window and occasionally a pedestrian trudged by through the growing carpet of snow. A few looked in, curious to see two teenagers sitting together in the closed store. Pino began to keel over. I did not need Pino flopping on the floor. “Hold!” I barked and he froze looking at me. “Sit up straight.” It seemed to break the flow of the game, but he complied and waited patiently to see what I wanted.
“Si,” he began.
“Don’t talk,” I interrupted and he closed his mouth, “Touch your nose.” After a hesitation he followed my instruction. “You see the power of my little drink 004? I have stripped you of all will to act independently.” Pino’s eyes widened at this news. “You are my puppet now. You should be used to that, being nothing but a little Canadian puppet of American imperialists.”
“Brilliant Si,” Pino whispered. His eyes sparkled. He saw the possibilities immediately.
“Enough with the charade 004; we know each other too well I think. I know you have discovered my name. Call me Aasir.” Pino blushed but he held his character.
“I’ll call you ass.”
“You’ll call me sir,” I quickly countered.
“What now you fiend?” I told him to wash up the coffee cups while I checked the doors. I noticed the heavy fall of snow as I tried the front door lock. I didn’t mind the snow. It would be warmer when we walked home. I snapped off the last of the lights and we were left in the shadows of the security lights. Pino leaned against the counter waiting for me. “Downstairs?” he asked and I nodded. I’m not sure how my brothers and Jasmine felt about the old building. It had its weight of history. Generations had worn the old floors and perhaps more than memories lurked in the shadows. It never bothered me. I could work at a keyboard for hours by myself. I felt at home there. I dreamed it was my home. I asked Pino if he was okay. He paused halfway down the stairs and looked back up at me. “It’s fine Si. I like the privacy.” He snorted slightly, “I mean, we can’t do this at my place and it was hard not to think of your mother downstairs at your place. I’m okay as long as you don’t turn the lights off down here.”
“Lights stay on.”
“Lights stay on,” he agreed. He went on down the stairs and led me into the room we had used on Halloween. I stopped him with a hand to the shoulder. “It’s a little cold isn’t it?”
“Not for long,” Pino had taken his hoody off while we worked on moving the books. I pulled his t-shirt up over his head. His arms slid free of the baggy green shirt. On an impulse I turned it inside out so it swathed his face. He touched the makeshift hood with a hand so I pulled his wrists behind his back. Two old cat collars served as bands and I clipped them together, a cheap karabiner from my pocket secured him. His fingers brushed against my crotch as I pulled my own shirt off. I pretended it was an accident when my hard penis pressed into the palm of one hand. I pulled his pants down. He stood in a pair of briefs, his jeans circling his ankles as I stood back to look at him.
I took some time to admire his athletic body. His long legs, narrow hips and small and tight buttocks were the sort girls should admire. He did not have a lot of meat on him. He almost looked underfed. It was as if his body burned the calories living and growing faster than Pino had time to consume them. He had none of Nate’s softness. He had none of Jessica’s light curves. “Where is the key card for the cruise missile we stole? We need it for a Christmas surprise.” Pino turned his head toward my voice. I circled silently and stood beside him. The firm swell of his buttocks was now balanced by the sharp tent of his crotch. The hard pan of his taught stomach begged for a tickle. I stepped forward and flicked a small erect nipple. Pino flinched in surprise and turned his head in my direction. I moved around once more and stood in front of him. His briefs were tight so I could see the thick shape of his penis and full scrotum. I went behind him again. I let him touch my crotch before I stripped him naked, but I was careful not to touch his groin. “Did you bring it with you? Is it hidden here?” Pino pressed back slightly and kept his thoughts to himself.
He let me lead him down the hall to the furnace room. The old boiler threw off a wave of heat and the chill of the poorly heated basement was replaced by a dry sauna. It was a better place to play our game. The wooden rafters were covered in fire retardant sheets the insurance agent had insisted we install, but a strong steam pipe provided a place to hang a rope. Pino let me clip his wrists to twin trailing cords. His arms hung loosely at about his shoulder height.
His erection died quickly when I started tickling him. Mine did not. He was very ticklish. Tickling was one of the most effective things you could do to Pino. Soon I was giggling along with him. I had to keep holding him still as he squirmed away from me. There were times the length of him simply ground against my bare chest. After a time he begged me to stop.
It was really too soon for him to say anything. I ended the tickling torture with Pino’s back and buttocks pressed firmly against me. The physical play had heated us both. The hot air lapped at the long wick of Pino’s body sending a musky aroma of sweat to my nostrils. My own scent mingled with Pino’s as we stood against each other. “I’ll be back.”
There was a bag of ice in the fridge. I used it to draw trails of melt water around the curves of his body and wiped them dry with my shirt. I scooped a handful into my t-shirt and pressed them into his groin. “The cruise missile is useless without the key card. Give it to me now. It is only days before Christmas.”
“So you can send our bombs against your own people? Blow up a hospital or a school to gain sympathy?” The ice melted in my hand and shrunk his organs. I set the ice aside and he gasped when I began massaging his cold flesh, “What would Wasim say Aasir?” My fingers milked his shaft until it was hard. The warmth returned to his cold scrotum. When his pelvis began thrusting against my hand sympathetically, I stopped. I think he thrust his straining penis out into the dry hot air searching for my hand. It met the makeshift bag of ice instead. I slipped a cube of ice between his cheeks and held it in place with a cupped palm, before long water trickled through my fingers. “Oh God Si,” Pino whispered from under the shroud covering his face.
I answered his question. “Wasim would say I waste ice. It is hot in the mountains during the summer and Wasim likes ice.” His erection had collapsed again. I waited till his flesh had retreated into itself and his scrotum had drawn his orbs almost into his body. “Wasim would say his cock is bigger than yours.”
“Hey, no fair”
I massaged Pino to bring back the warmth, the length and the rock hardness. We stopped talking as I played with him. I was fascinated by the movement of his penis through my clenched fist. He ejaculated without warning. Two streams jetted free and onto the floor. A third dribbled on my hand. The semen puddled around the ring my fingers made about his tight flesh. “Woops, that was not supposed to happen.” Pino laughed breathlessly at my comment. His laughter caught in his throat when I added, “We’ll have to start over I guess.”
I was still holding Pino firmly in my hand and my wet palm cupped a butt cheek. I let go of him with a guilty start. My own penis pressed against Pino’s hip so I took a step back. I did not like the hood over his face. I wanted to see his mouth and eyes, but then removing it would not fit into the game. I had left a small pile of nylon cords in the corner of the furnace room. Some were left over from our first game at the store. I spread an old sleeping bag across the gritty concrete floor.
I was not particularly imaginative with the ropes. He stopped me when I began wrapping the rope around his thighs, “Best not to do that; just at the ankles I think.” It was a learning process for both of us. I unclipped his arms and secured them behind his back. His back was damp with a light sheen of perspiration. The soft flesh of his buttocks felt cool when I pressed the backs of my fingers against it. I wrapped a rope around his neck, and then paused to think. I decided on a better plan. I knotted the rope tightly at one end, tossed the resulting loop over his head and let it dangle down to his crotch. At that point I took the rope and made a small loop. Pino gasped when the loop went around his scrotum and penis. “Not a slip knot?”
“Thank you. Were you a Boy Scout?” When Pino lifted his head a little the tension on the cord lifted his scrotum. The first time he did it I tickled his testicles playfully. He jerked away and that only caused the rope to tug sharply on his groin. “Al Qaeda bastard,” Pino mumbled.
“I just make them up as I go along.” I busied myself with the rest of the rope. It passed between his legs and then I secured it to the clip holding his arms together. Pino tested the tension by drawing his arms up. The rope shifted slightly across his groin but the loop around his neck protected his groin. He nodded his head to show he was satisfied. I tied his arms at the biceps and then helped him lie down on the sleeping bag. Pino pulled his legs up and crossed them at his ankles. I took the hint and tied his ankles so Pino’s crotch was exposed. I tied off this arrangement to the rope around his hands. He looked pretty helpless trussed up. I dropped the melting bag of ice on his crotch and sat beside him. “Where is the key card?”
“Where is Wasim?”
“Wasim is building bombs to bury under the road. He wants to blow up your friends.”
“What if the bomb blows up some innocent family out for a drive?”
“Is anyone innocent 004?” I lifted the bag to check on his groin and then dropped it back. I took a cube out of the bag to give me an excuse to run my hand over his chest. “Ms. Hartley, she’s my Social teacher, she said terrorists target anyone – even children – because they think everyone is responsible for what their government does.”
“Even the little kids?”
“Well if some Canadian kid gets to live in luxury while some poor African kid starves then I guess that is supposed to mean the Canadian kid is taking something away from the African kid; something like that.”
“So Wasim makes bombs?”
“Yes, Wasim makes bombs,” I abandoned the half melted ice cube in the soft hollow of Pino’s navel and lit a selection of candle stubs. “If you could remember where that pesky key card went then Wasim could take a break. The missile will be aimed at your base. You won’t have to worry about the family out for a drive getting blown up. They will be safe for now.” I moved the bag of ice and inspected the result. “You look cold.”
“I am cold.” Pino shifted on the padding and my penis ached at the way the rope around Pino’s groin tugged at his scrotum. “Warm me up please.” I responded with some candle wax. Pino flinched. “I was thinking of your hand.”
“For that you have to give me some information.” Pino mulled this over as I painted his penis with wax. I was kneeling at his feet so I had a view of his slightly parted cheeks. The cord sawed slightly back and forth against the brown halo of his anus.
“Okay, the card is here.” Pino’s words brought me back. I realized the hand holding the candle had drifted off his groin and wax was dripping down his hip. My other hand had been massaging the inside of Pino’s thigh. I quickly put candle aside.
“Where here?” I ran my fingers over the soft skin on Pino’s thighs. Every time I brought the fingers close to the crinkled sack Pino’s pelvis lifted off the floor.
“Upstairs” That earned him a touch. I cupped his penis gently in one hand and pressed my other over it. It rolled between my palms. “How old is Wasim, Aasir?”
Pino moved in my hand. I liked feeling his flesh as it swelled. I liked that he wanted me to touch him. I brought a hand back up to my nose. I glanced at Pino’s face guiltily, but of course he couldn’t see me. He was rampant and the wax was flecking off. “He is thirteen I think.” I stroked his shaft. “Your cock is bigger I think.” I jerked him a few times and he threw his head back. I wanted to see his face. I shifted around to his head and pulled the t-shirt off. He blinked in the light of the single incandescent bulb and then he looked at me. “I don’t like the hood. It’s more fun when we can see each other.” I reached down and began fondling his hard penis. I didn’t understand it, but it thrilled me to look into Pino’s eyes as I touched him, “Where upstairs?” He whispered something I couldn’t understand so I leaned closer. He shook his head and bit his lower lip.
I stroked him gently, letting my fingers travel around his flesh as if it was my own. He had ejaculated so quickly the first time I wanted to draw it out. Pino began arching his back and tensing his buttocks as we sat together. “I need my card 004, should I stop?” I released his penis and cupped my palm around his tight sack. I was entranced again by the hard eggs that moved so freely beneath my fingers. I squeezed gently, and then circled the base of his shaft with thumb and forefinger.
“Please Si, don’t stop now.” Pino lifted his head. The muscles tensed along his abdomen and the rope I had tied caught at the base of his penis and pulled it vertical. He settled back to take the strain off. I began jacking him with rapid strokes. I forgot to interrogate him as I watched him move beneath my fist. He ejaculated with a high pitched cry and I was treated to a series of squirts that spattered his heaving belly. “Oh God,” he sighed.
“Wasim will not be pleased.”
“When I get home,” I replied and that made Pino laugh. I reached for my sopping t-shirt with what remained of the ice and dropped it on Pino’s groin. “There, maybe that will cool you off.
“Oh God I think you did me in,” he laughed, “You still don’t know where the key card is Aasir.” I could hear smugness in his voice. I realize now it was not a smug satisfaction that he had bested me twice, it was satisfaction that the game was not played out.
“We’ll see,” I shot back. The smell of his semen mingled with the scent of his sweat. I removed all of his bonds and retied his wrists in front of him. Pino stretched on the floor while he waited for me. He seemed unconcerned about the streaks of semen on his belly. He watched as I stood next to him. “Touch your nose, now your cock,” Pino readily followed each instruction. “Just remember, you were drugged and you have to do whatever I tell you to do. Pino nodded. I paused and gathered my courage. He was such a good looking boy. Finally I turned my back on him and quickly stripped my jeans and boxers off. When I was naked I turned back anxious to see how he would respond. My engorged penis stretched out painfully. The veins distended along my member. “You have to touch it,” I whispered. Pino’s wide eyes were fixed on my groin and that only encouraged my erection. “Pino?” he met my eyes and nodded his head vigorously. I straddled his waist conscious of the dampness on his belly. The flaccid tip of his penis brushing against my buttocks as my weight settled on his pelvis. “Now stroke my cock slowly. If you don’t tell me where the key card is you will have cum all over you. Are you going to tell me?” Pino glanced at my face and reached out to take me. A glistening tear hung from the tip of my penis. His thumb rubbed the drop down onto the sensitive flesh below my crown.
The link at his wrists limited his movements. I lifted off his tummy and threatened Pino’s face with my bobbing member. “I didn’t expect you to be cut, most of the boys in my class aren’t.” His hands paused while a finger circumnavigated my crown. I don’t cum like this.” He painted the tip of my penis with more of my fluids. My stomach fluttered.
“It just leaks when I’m really hard like this. Yours does too, a little.” His hands had only been on me a short time, but I could feel the urge to ejaculate. It was a quivering and intense desire I had never experienced with Brittany or Jessica. Pino’s large hands, so much like my own pressed my flesh and roved around my groin. Fingers combed dark pubic hair and probed the hardened muscle below my navel. Pino cupped my scrotum and tried to test the weight of my retracted testicles. At one point he pushed a hand behind my scrotum until his fingers brushed my crease. I bit my lip and thrust my groin toward his face. After that, every time I settled back to rest my legs he coaxed me forward in the same manner. With his hands controlling me, you would think it was I who had tasted a drug.
“Okay Pino, you really need to tell me where that health card is now.” I wasn’t panting like I might have been while Brittany beat a furious tempo on my penis, pausing every once and a while to see if I was ready to orgasm. With Pino, I couldn’t breathe. My chest was tight and my heart was in my throat. A formless urge seemed to flow from my extremities toward my groin. Pino’s body beneath me drew my semen out like the moon draws the rising ocean tide. It was a mystery to me that night in the basement. Instead of the familiar constricting ache of an ejaculation hammered loose by Brittany’s fist my first orgasm with Pino was a welcome flood. I know it sounds funny, but it was like my muscles all relaxed and pushed in conscious harmony. There was nothing forced or urgent. The gates simply opened wide.
The first stream reached Pino’s cheek and then I lost track of everything. I had to collapse forward as I tried to regain control of my muscles. My arms broke my abrupt descent and I came to rest with my head on the ground. My lips were on his salty shoulder and our cheeks pressed close. My first ejaculation joined us. Pino’s hand continued to stroke my penis and my body jumped spasmodically with pleasant aftershocks. “I think the key card is in my inside pocket.” Pino whispered. I nodded my head not willing to speak or move my lips from the warmth of his shoulder. “Next time give me your ATM card and your pin number. I still need to buy some Christmas presents.” I giggled a response and bit a muscle in his shoulder. He continued to play with my penis and when my scrotum finally relaxed his fingers moved over the suspended testicles as if he was blind and wanted to memorize the contours of my unfamiliar face. I guess I had forgotten to tell him he could stop. It was a while before I remembered to take my lips off his shoulder.
We sat together in the warmth of the furnace room with our backs to the wall. I sat with one leg shielding my spent groin from Pino’s eyes. I felt shy with him now. Pino toyed with the bands about his wrist. He had discovered that he could undo the clasp securing the red band to his right wrist. I watched as he attempted to reconnect the band with his left hand. He seemed far more at ease than I was. He sat cross legged with his penis and scrotum drooped prettily toward the floor. My eyes alternated between that and his animated face. His smile was so engaging. It came so easily to his lips. I basked in it when he turned to look at me and saw me watching. “I can’t get it back on,” he offered by way of explanation.
“It’s more important for you to be able to get it off I should think.” His face took on a serious cast and then he turned the full force of his smile on me. He rolled onto his knees and came over to me. Pino held out the still captive wrist.
“You put it on.” I took his wrists and pulled them slowly behind his back. He twisted around so I could clasp the band back into place. A slender hip and thigh brushed against my arm. “I need to go to the bathroom.” I did not ask why he asked to be bound before he told me this. I simply helped him up and led him back toward the front. “The boiler room was a good idea. It is colder here.” I let him go into the washroom by himself and began collecting our clothes. “Si you have to help me here.”
“I’m not wiping your ass Pino.”
He giggled and told me to hurry. He was standing over the toilet when I joined him. “You have to aim me.” I stood behind him and pointed his penis toward the water. Instantly a stream of pale urine began pounding the placid pool. The water foamed and I played Pino’s stream about the bowl following my usual game of covering the entire surface with a scum of tiny bubbles. We watched the bubbles fade back into the water as I first shook him off and then began to play with his penis. He pressed back into me so I ran a hand up his chest and belly. Dried semen flaked like dead skin. Pino grew between my fingers. He had given up my Health Card so I needed a different question to interrogate him with. My fingers came to rest on the bone necklace.
“You still have not told me your name 004.” I brought my hand back and grabbed the restraints binding his wrists and pulled them up. Pino arched his back a little and leaned back into me. My fingers worked his erection harder.
“Stop” I pulled my hand away quickly. “It hurts.”
“Oh shit Pino, I’ll untie you.” I began fumbling with the clasps. He shook his head quickly.
“No it’s not that,” He turned a deep rose. Pino was still thirteen and very shy about his minor bondage fetish. At that point I misunderstood why Pino became so aroused by the binding. “You’re rubbing the skin right off me.”
“Ah,” it was my turn to blush. “I should have thought about that.” I took a look. It was a little red around the tender flesh below his crown. I touched it. “So sad, little Pino will have to rest a bit,” I stroked him gently not wanting see his erection go away. I avoided the sore spots. Justin had joked once about masturbating himself raw. I had laughed when he said it, but I didn’t talk about such things with my friends often. “What are we going to do Pino? I don’t know your name yet.”
He settled back against me apparently content to allow me to fondle his erection and equally content to suspend the pretence of the game. “So what do you usually do Si?”
“When you jack off,” Pino said it shyly. I moved my hand off of his penis and explored the firm flesh on his thighs. Glyn had commented that Pino played basketball.
“I do lots of things I guess.” I tickled the hollows beneath his knees. “I whack in the shower.”
“I do that.” I imagine everyone did and laughed. “I use hand cream. Spit once, I won’t tell you where I did that.” I scratched my finger nails down his thighs and then tickled up to his nipples. He pressed a little harder against my chest, “Si?”
“You’ve got a new girlfriend don’t you?”
“Maybe, I don’t know. I just went out with her and some friends once. She’s okay.” I wanted to bite his shoulder again and I really did not want to talk about Jessica, “We could use spit Pino.”
“Yuck! Anyway, it doesn’t last very long.”
“It can,” I pulled my hands away, throat dry. Pino didn’t pull away. I needed some positive response from him before I continued.
“I’m your prisoner; I guess you can do pretty much what you want.” He turned his head to look at me. My lips were washed with his warm breath, “Psychological warfare and all that, right?” I nodded, unwilling to speak for a moment. I pushed him away from me and then down on the bag still spread on the floor. With his hands secure behind his back he was arched with his pelvis thrust up invitingly. Pino’s penis hung cantilevered over the concave of his belly.
I shifted around until I lay beside him and then lifted his penis toward my lips. I kissed it once and glanced his way to see how he would react to the violation. He seemed to be holding his breath. I kissed again and then let his crown past my parted lips. Pino filled my mouth for a moment. I pulled off and examined his glistening crown. Pino’s chest heaved. I went back down and let him slide across my lips a few times. The phone rang upstairs. I froze on Pino’s penis for a beat and then pulled away quickly. We looked at each other and then I was racing naked up the stairs to answer it.
“Simon what are you up to?” It was my mother. She should have been at work.
“I’m just on the computer.” A muffled figure walked past the window leaving two deep furrows in the sidewalk. The head was bent so the unfamiliar sight of a fourteen year old boy standing behind a counter bare to the waist went unnoticed.
“Dr. Fleming paged me. She says her son James is with you.”
“Yes, Pino,” I turned toward the door leading to the basement. Pino stood shadowed in the doorway with his jeans loose about his waist. My pants were in one hand. “He stopped by to help move things and we stayed to play some games on the computer. It’s the only place I can do this mom.”
“I understand, but he didn’t tell his parents where he would be. It’s almost eight thirty now and it is snowing heavily.” My mother did not sound concerned, but I worried about Pino’s parents. I felt Pino behind me. He held my underwear and pants out for me and I stepped into them as I listened to my mother. Mom digressed into the cost of establishing a connection at home.
“We’ll finish here and take off right away.” I broke in. That seemed to satisfy her and she quickly broke the connection. Pino decided he should phone home. While he connected to his father I returned to the basement to clean up. I swept our few items into a box and dropped them on a shelf. When I returned with the last of our clothing I found Pino framed in the window watching the snowfall. “Is everything okay?”
“Dad’s a little pissed off that I ditched my friends and came down town without telling him.”
“He’s probably mad at me too.” I thought about the cool reception I had received from Pino’s mother and wondered if the Fleming’s might disapprove of me.
“Don’t worry Si. He’s not mad at you. I explained about moving things and the computer connection.” Pino glanced at me and turned back to look at the snow. “It really is coming down out there.”
“We can take a bus.”
“Let’s walk.” He turned back and reached out to take the clothes in my hand. I pulled then further back so he paused to look at me. Neither of us had spoken of our game or where we had left off. Something important between us had been interrupted and I was anxious not to lose it. My makeshift shackle still dangled from Pino’s outstretched wrist.
“Sit down a minute.” I tossed the clothes onto a nearby chair and gestured to the table where we had sat drinking Lattés. When he settled in the chair with his back to the front window, I secured his hands behind his back. Then I pulled up a second chair and sat facing him with our knees touching. “Remember I have complete control over you right now.”
“I think the drug wore off Si,” Pino replied wistfully. I fetched the bottle of extract from where I left it by the espresso maker.
“Open your mouth 004,” Pino pursed his lips and shook his head angrily. I tried to coax his mouth open a few more times but he wouldn’t relent. I tried tickling him. Pino doubled over protecting his sides as best he could. I think I was giggling more than he was. When I stopped he continued to resist my pleas to open his mouth. “Damn it Pino,” I exclaimed in frustration. Pino cocked his head and shot me a warning. “Cowardly enemy of my people,” I offered. He nodded approval. “I should cut your cock and balls off and feed them to the goats,” Pino’s eyes widened in shock, “Too much?” He rolled his eyes and nodded agreement. “Sorry,” that earned me a smile, but he would not open his mouth.
I settled on Pino’s lap and he eyed me suspiciously. I think he expected me to resume tickling him. While I loved to run my fingers over his smooth sides and probe the soft folds across his hard stomach, I knew we had to get going. I pinched his nose, tipped the bottle to his pursed lips and waited. I think Pino held out for half a minute before a little extract finally dribbled past his parted lips. He reacted to the bitter taste of the concentrate and slumped in resignation.
“There now 004, that’s much better.” I touched the bone necklace and then reached behind to unclasp it.
“Don’t,” Pino said abruptly. I paused. “Please don’t take it off.” It was said so softly I almost didn’t catch the words. I almost asked him to say his name. I hesitated and our eyes connected. I couldn’t read him suddenly. The necklace was left alone. I stood up and searched the counter for something suitable and came back with a pewter bookmark suspended from a ribbon. Pino waited with interest.
“The drug is effective, but it does not last very long. I think I should hypnotize you 004.” Pino shifted restlessly but held his peace, “What?”
“I’m too well trained for that Aasir. I’m surprised you would try such a lame idea.” He said this apologetically. “Resisting hypnotism is kind of like basic training for us double 0 agents.”
“Well,” I began hesitantly, trying to work my way through the road block Pino had thrown up. “This drug is pretty strong. I mean, if I was to jack your cock right now I bet I could get you off again.” Pino conceded my point with a small smile. “So I figure a combination of drugs might break through your training.” Pino gave that some thought. He was not sure and I think he was protective of his secret agent status. I tugged at his waistband playfully and then went back to the counter. Dad had a bit of a sweet tooth and I knew he must have some candy stashed behind the counter. I found a bag of Gummy Bears. I popped a couple in my mouth and came back with a handful. “Open up 004,” Pino opened his mouth and I tipped the candies into his mouth. I held my palm lightly against his mouth as if to stop him from spitting out the sweets, but really I lingered to enjoy the sensation of his soft lips against my flesh. His jaw moved against my hand as he chewed and swallowed the bits. He finally poked his tongue into the center of my palm to get me to move it.
His narrowed his eyes, “and now?”
I dangled the bookmark in front of his face. “Follow the pretty bunny 004. You are getting sleepy.”
“Oh my God,” Pino murmured with asperity and his eyes began shifting back and forth to the slow pendulum. Finally Pino closed his eyes. He was likely as tired of looking as I was of swinging it slowly back and forth. I babbled some nonsense about his wanting to do whatever I told him to do; him having no will of his own. When I asked, he repeated instructions back in a monotone, his soft accented voice more mesmerizing than Peter Cottontail.
“When you hear the words Wasim is my friend, you will do whatever I ask. When I say Wasim is gone, you will be free until I call for you again. You will remember nothing. On the count of three, wake up.” I studied the lines of his face for a bit before waking him. I thought of asking him to tell me his name while I had him in my power, but I restrained myself. I still did not understand why he stood his ground in this odd way, but I knew it would be wrong to challenge him. Whatever he was waiting for had not transpired. I would wait for him to relent. His name already reverberated in my mind anyway.
We locked up the store and shared the long walk up hill to my neighbourhood. A pair of prairie boys, we were immune to the cold and delighted with the anonymous dark and relentless fall of heavy flakes. It was a windless night and we were warmed by each other’s company. I might have tussled a bit with Glyn along the way. Justin and I would have plotted a date with the girls or fenced verbally over the state of football and the prospects for a good hockey season. If Nate had been along I would be subjected to school gossip. Pino and I walked quietly shoulders brushing together. Take a drive north from St. George up to the turn off that leads to Vimy, through The Elbow and on past the Welcome to Saskatchewan sign to Saskatoon . Two hundred kilometres and perhaps six small towns and another dozen ghosts melting back into the grassland and park; the rest is empty prairie. Our conversation was like that. Long stretches of silence beaded with small exchanges. One or the other of us would make a comment and like a town rising in the distance, the other would let the silence stretch before responding. After a flurry of words we lapsed back into ourselves. I might have a thought or question, but like as not I let it pass.
Pino comment on our play, I learned he would be there opening night. He was playing basketball. His aim must have improved with his glasses, and his next game was at King George, my old school. I promised to come and watch. Christmas was approaching and dad would need more help. The Flemings planned to go to the mountains to ski. The rest was silence. I led Pino in a direct line to the park and then we waded through what was usually a well trod path down the long slope and up onto the dividing tracks.
We stood balanced on parallel rails facing each other. Suddenly words began to flow between us. Random thoughts spun agreements and connections. I shivered in the cold, hugged my arms and stamped my feet as we talked. Pino lost his balance and stepped toward me off the rail. I reached out a hand to help him balance. His hand touched my shoulder and huddled close as if he needed further steadying. Pino was as cold as I was. His teeth chattered as he replied to one of my inconsequential thoughts. Finally we paused smiling at each other.
“I’m cold,” Pino confessed.
“Me too, my feet are wet.” Pino nodded understanding. We had to part.
“Well, see you later I guess.” He nodded and shivered violently. We just stared at each other; I was consumed by a sense of unfinished business. “What are you doing tomorrow?”
“Nothing,” his eyes blinked behind his glasses.
“Come over, maybe you and Glyn. We could do something.”
“Yes,” and he flashed another smile. We lapsed into silence again, “Okay then.”
“Yes,” I echoed Pino and then we both laughed. Pino turned away and started down the further embankment. I waited till he was moving up the slope before I turned away. When I had struggled back to the road I turned to look for him. We stood with the snow choked gully between us huddled in our coats. “You little bastard, you still have my Health Card,” I yelled across.
“I know,” He yelled back. He took off running down the street toward the warmth of his home. I followed my own path warmed by the memory of Pino.
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