SkinMarvin Gay Stories

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Chapter 4 - Thrown out

We stayed together all night, neither of us sleeping, just cradled in each other's arms, warm and secure. It was a new feeling for me and I felt it was the same for Mick. He held me close but gently, caressing me with his lips and his strong hands, me with my body trying to be part of him, closer and ever closer. This man was mine and I could not believe just 24 hours before I was just a confused 16-year-old boy with an erection problem. I knew what we were doing was wrong but it felt so right. Why was this wrong? Was this just lust or was it really love? These questions went through my head, but were driven out quickly each time by the warmth and love I felt.

Morning came too soon. Mick rose about 8.30 after we had engaged in one more frantic bout of lovemaking. I was sore but happy. I felt elated as if nothing could break this feeling of wonder and beauty. Mick's body was beautiful. Firm slender buttocks, rising to a powerful muscular torso and broad shoulders topped with that horny shaven head. For the first time I saw the tattoo's on the top of each arm. They were like a dagger with a motto slicing through each. I asked him what they represented, and he said they were the crews' brotherhood, that they all had the same and only members of the group could have these particular tats. They had a tattooist up town that had designed it for them and only he could do the work. It represented their love for each other, their commitment to the culture and their undying support to each of the group.
"You too will have these tattoo's Johnny when the crew decide you are ready, when I decide you are a skin". Here again was that masterful side of Mick, telling me how my life would be from now on. He would decide, he would teach me: he would dominate my life forever.
"You need to clean up lad, don't want your mother to see you like that" I looked in the mirror and saw that my head and face still had some dried blood sticking to it. I also felt my bowels were becoming loose and should find the toilet quickly. I threw on a coat and headed down the hall to the toilet and sat for ages as this liquid ran from my anus. I had never had this before, but knew it was from the love making from last night and this morning. I tried to clean myself up as best I could, but my anus was still sore and the muscles still a little week from the stretching. I knew it would get better, it had too, I wanted Mick to do this again and again, all day every day. It had to get better, because I loved him inside me and I knew even if it hurt every time, I would still let him enter my body and use me as his lover.

Mick was dressed in his work gear when I returned and I quickly washed the blood from my face and head. There was a couple of small grazes on my head and face and my nose was blocked with blood.
"I think I might have broken my nose last night, it hurts like hell" I said as I tried to blow the blood out to let me breath easier "It makes me look like a boxer"
"Gives you attitude young Johnny, gives you character, here let me kiss it better for you." Once again I was in his firm, strong hands with his lips on mine.
"I thought you were going to kiss my nose better," I said trying to sound hurt and giving my face a pouting look.
"Couldn't resist those ruby red lips of yours, much better than kissing that flattened boxers nose of yours." We laughed and I finished dressing. We had a cup of tea and about 10.00 am I left to go home, promising to be back later that afternoon, Mick was going to tell me the history of the skins and play some special music for me. I was excited that he wanted to see me again so soon.

I walked slowly home, daydreaming of the night before. It had been exciting, meeting the group, the fight, the passionate love Mick and I had had. The laying together all night, intimately together, not just laying side by side, but curled up together with our bodies moulded to one another, as one with each other. The memory of his smell, the feel of him inside me as his penis grew and moved inside me, how he orgasmed inside me, the warmth of his juices inside me. I never wanted it to end. If this was what a homosexual was, then I wanted to be a homosexual. I was in love with a man and I wanted to tell the world, then reality struck home with a sledgehammer. How would I tell my parents, my family, and my friends? How was I going to explain my new haircut, it was not the haircut I went out with last night. I left home last night with black curly hair, flattened with a ton of brillcream, and come home with a shaven head. And my clothes! Tight washed out jeans, navy work shirt, with navy and red braces. Dad was going to flip, mum would just cry and prey to God to exorcise my demons, as for my older brother: well he would not stop laughing for a month. What about my nose and the grazing on my face? Well, the grazing wasn't unusual, as I was often in fights on Saturday nights down the wharf area, where my mates and I would hang out and give cheek to the rockers and their moles. However, the nose would have to be looked at by Dr. Green, the family quack, 80 years old and still driving his 1948 Ford Anglia on his house calls. Then Mick's voice was in my head. "Wear it with pride" he had said, "be confident, be arrogant, wear your culture with pride". Pride it was, and from that day on I have always worn my culture with pride. I wasn't a skin yet, but I wanted to be more than anything in this world. I would be a skin and Mick would teach me to wear it with pride. I knew that and this helped me to enter my home with my head held high and my pride showing from ear to ear.

Being Sunday, mum and dad were still at church and would not be back for a while, but David was home reading the Sunday Express in the kitchen when I entered. He nearly spilled his tea when he saw me.
"What the fuck happened to you" he shouted, "Dad's going to flip when he gets home, have you gone mad? You know he hates the skinheads down the wharf, are you trying to commit suicide Johnny or just plain fucking stupid? I had better check the cupboard for smelling salts for mum too" He sounded angry but also concerned. "I suppose you got in a fight again, looking at that face of yours. Don't you ever learn, leave them rockers alone, one day they will use more than their fists. Incidentally, did you win or loose". David had as much dislike for the rockers as I did and had been in many fights himself, so in this we had a common interest.
"We won, but I think I have broken my nose. David, can I talk to you brother to brother?"
"Yeh sure, what's up?" he said as he checked out my nose. "Well speak up John"
I was hesitant and unsure how I was going to start but I started with the truck and how I had met Mick. I was cautious on the finer details, but told him that I had made love to another man, and that I was no longer confused about what I was and that I was a homosexual. David sat down and looked at me and said nothing for quite a while. His expressions were not of disgust, nor of acceptance, just of confusion. I did not know whether to say anything or not, but then after about 3 minutes, which felt like 3 hours, he said:
"Are you sure John? You are only 16. How do you know? You are hardly old enough to know you own a dick let alone know how to use it"
"I don't know how, but I feel it is right. I know it is right for me. I never knew that love was this strong, this overwhelming need to be with him. 16 or 60, I know I have to be with him: women have never been a turn on for me. I just went along with dad to make him happy, but I could never get any response from my body from pictures of women, but went ape over pictures of men. I knew I was different, but now I know why, and Mick has shown me how to be happy." David just looked at me rubbing his hand repeatedly on his brow.
"If you tell this to any living sole, I swear I will kill you and feed your body to the sharks down the wharf" he said with a determined whisper. I assured him I would not let it pass my lips. "Ok then, but to no one, ever." I agreed.
"I have been going with a guy for over a year myself. He works down the wharf too, and we want to move into a flat together, but not here in the Island. We want to move over to the mainland later this year." I was dumbfounded. My big brother was a homosexual and I did not know. How did he keep it so quiet from everybody?
"How did you meet him" I asked "Was it at work or while you were out"? He was still wondering if he should give more information when I started questioning again "Do you love him. Do you love his smell, his warmth, his body curled up around you hugging you and holding you firm? Does he feel good inside you, does he hold his orgasm till you are ready to come too," I asked. He looked at me, and smiled, a smile I had never seen on him before now. It wasn't a laugh or a condescending smirk: it was a smile of love, brotherly love, an understanding, and the type brothers share when they find that their lives are one and the same and can never be separated even though they may be miles apart.
"You really do love him don't you Johnny, I hope to God he doesn't hurt you" He held my head and kissed me on the lips like Mick, but without the passion. It was a feeling I will always remember for the rest of my life. This was the first time my brother David had shown me any emotion.
"What's with this skins thing John. Why skinheads? What have they got that your mates don't" I looked at him and smiled sheepishly
"Love" I said and walked out of the room to run the bath for mum when she got home in a few minutes.

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