Markwildyr.com, Post #242
Thanks to Don Morgan for his guest posts. Hope you enjoyed them. Readership was up sharply last week—mostly due to large Singapore readership. My buddy, Don Travis told me his blog had multi-thousand hits from Singapore. Don’t know what that’s all about.
At any rate, here’s my
latest effort. Read on.
* * * *
TAI
For some reason, our town wasn’t
much for sports. Except for soccer. Our Hochitown Side-Kickers were about the biggest
thing around—except maybe for hunting and fishing—and as a fair—well, a little
better than that—soccer player, I was sitting pretty. Decent appearing—handsome
some of the girls said—and looking good in soccer shorts. Able to get decent
scores in my classes, things were pretty good. Mark Heidlemann had things
pretty much his way. Mark Heidlemann, that’s me.
My senior year, Lt. Col.
Briscoe Briggs retired from the Air Force and returned to his boyhood home,
bringing his Chinese wife and teenage son Tai with him. And wouldn’t you know
it? Tai was a soccer player. And a damned good one too.
I’ll admit I saw him through the
green veil of jealousy at first, but Tai was such a downright good guy that I
lost that pretty quickly. Besides, with the addition of his skill, the
Side-Kickers stopped being pretty good and shot to the top of the league. After
we stopped being wary of one another, we quickly became an effective one-two
unit. My goal kicks were harder, but his were more accurate.
Our little town was—to be
charitable—somewhat insular. Col. Briggs was accepted, his wife Mai and son,
Tai, not so much. And I’ll take credit for helping break through those
prejudices. When I accepted Tai on the field, the rest of the team did, as
well. And when I invited Tai to bum around with me, the rest of the school fell
in line. Parents sometimes take cues from their kids, and it wasn’t long before
Mrs. Briggs participated in the town’s civic and social affairs alongside
everyone else.
It rankled a little when he
was selected team captain, but what the hell. I still had my share of
acclimation. So while I let it go, I began to take more notice of Tai… you
know, Tai, the individual.
He had his father’s physique—5’10’,
165 pounds—and his mother’s complexion. His dad’s cheekbones; his mother’s
eyes. When I really looked at him, he was damned handsome. Handsome, plus—if you
know what I mean. His looks combined with a sensual, feline grace made him
downright sexy. And if I realized that, what must the girls think? Apparently,
they agreed, because they hung all over the guy.
Maybe that was why I backed
off a little. We were still friends, but not buddies. He moved in his circle,
and I made my way through mine. Didn’t seem to affect us on the field, so we
won state in our class that year.
After graduation, Col Briggs
took his family back east for a long visit with his wife’s family in Maryland.
Seemed that he hadn’t met her in China, or anywhere in the orient, They’d met at
the Pentagon in Washington, D.C where they both worked.
So I worked my Tai-free summer
as a grease monkey at the local Chevrolet dealer by day and pursued Misty Penrose
by night. I got good marks for my mechanical skills, but not so much as a
Lothario. Misty—as a prize—continued to elude me, although we both enjoyed the
unstated duel.
Don’t get me wrong. I’d
managed to snag a couple of girls, starting in my freshman year. So I wasn’t a
virgin, but for some reason Misty seemed a special prize. Her slipping the hook—as
my brother would say—sometimes left me aching. And Billy Belwine found me in
that condition one day after Misty left me at City Park, and somehow, we ended
up in the men’s toilet with him kneeling before me, providing me some relief. I
couldn’t believe the eruption I had.
I was still recovering when
Billy stood, swiped his mouth, and grinned. “Awesome, man. Anytime you need to
get it off, just let me know.” Then he barreled out of the toilet leaving me
with my trousers around my ankles.
After restoring myself to decency—at
least in the appearance department—I wandered around the woody area of the park
mulling things over. Was I queer? I rolled my shoulders. Course, I wasn’t. That
was just relief. And lots better relief than doing it to yourself. How did I
feel about it? Okay, I guess. No guilt or shame or mortification. Well, maybe a
little concern that Billy’d shoot off his mouth, and some of the kids would
find out their soccer star got a blowjob. Naw. I hadn’t heard anything about
Billy, so he didn’t go around blabbing. Maybe I’d look him up the next time I
got really needy.
That left me with just one
question. Why had I closed my eyes and thought about Tai Briggs while Billy did
what he did so well?
*.*.*.*.
Well, well,
well. Jealousy turned to friendship, turned to resentment, turned to…. Who
knows. Let’s see what develops next week.
Website and blog: markwildyr.com
Email:
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Twitter: @markwildyr
Now my
mantra: Keep on reading. Keep on writing.
You have something to say, so say it!
See you later.
