Two hours after arriving at my sister’s house, I was down on my knees with my nephew on my back, yelling, “Go, horsey, go!”; me panting and sweating and my knees ached and I was more than ready to throw my nephew off my back and out the window!
I’d even tried once or twice to “rear up” and get him to slide off, but the little bastard would hang onto my shoulders and cling with his legs around my waist and stay right where he was! How the hell do you get out of a game like this anyhow?
Sarah saved me, she came in and said, “Okay, you two, time for supper. Go get washed up and get ready!”
“I’m not hungry!” Ralph instantly declared. “I’m riding the horsey!”
“Well, I’m hungry.” I told them both, stopped in my tracks and gasping out the words. “Not to mention worn out! Horsey has to be put back in the stable, Ralph!”
“No, no, ride the horsey!” Ralph declared, digging his thankfully bare heels into my hips in a “giddy-up” style. Ralph is only four years old with a birthday next month, he’ll start pre-school next fall. Meanwhile, he’s kept in daycare as much as my sister can afford (she works minimum wage jobs, money for her is tight), and she leaves him with neighbors and anyone else who’ll take him the rest of the time.
I wasn’t any better off. I’d dropped out of school the day I turned eighteen (hell, I wasn’t going to graduate anyhow, my only “C” was in P.E. class, the rest were “D’s” and “F’s”) and now, nearly a year later, I’d been unable to find a steady job and had worn out my mother’s toleration of having me hanging around in the house. Sis had offered to take me in while I looked for a job where she lived (well, my home town was awful small and Sis lived in a town three times its size) and so here I was, nearly nineteen, no education worthy of the name (don’t believe them in school, you don’t use algebra or history in the real world, not one damned bit!), no skills to speak of and trying to find something I could stand to work at long enough to figure out what I wanted to do next.
So when I went into the kitchen and saw my plate held but a single small pork chop, some macaroni and cheese and some green beans, I didn’t do anything but smile and say, “Looks good!”
I didn’t fool my sister; this was half of what I’d normally eat for supper. “I’ll go shopping on Tuesday, when I get the day off (this was Saturday evening), but for now, we’ll have to make do.”
“You’re doing enough just letting me stay here.” I assured her and meant it. “I’ll start looking for work on Monday, maybe I can help out on things while I save enough for my own place.”
My sister smiled. “Could I maybe talk you into waiting until Tuesday to start looking?”
“Huh?” I stopped with a forkful of green beans halfway to my face.
“Ralph.” My sister smiled again. “You go out, means I have to hire a babysitter for him. Can you watch him until my day off, and look then? I’ll pay you what I’d pay her.”
I considered this. The real jobs were in the Sunday paper, if I waited until Tuesday, the jobs I qualified for would most likely be taken by then. Still...I could call them and such on Monday, set up an appointment and be sure the job was still there. “Sure, that’ll work.” and I laid out my own revised plans for job-hunting.
“Great.” My sister sighed. “Mrs. Whitson told me she wouldn’t take care of Ralph any longer.”
“I hate her, she’s nasty!” Ralph informed me.
“That’s the word she used about you.” My sister informed her son. “‘Dirty, nasty, loud and wouldn’t behave.’” She looked at me. “Chet, if you find it necessary to tan his hide, go right ahead.”
“I think we can get along.” I said, smiling at Ralph.
I groaned. “Some horsey.” I agreed. “But not too much, okay?”
I managed to get to the couch before Ralph, avoiding being turned into his horse and Sis put him to bed in another hour or so.
I spent that night on the couch, uncomfortable as hell, so when she got up at six a.m. to get ready to go to her job, I got permission to switch to her bed for some more much-needed sleep. Very much needed, I mean, I fell asleep about ten seconds after I crawled into the bed and while I was still trying to pull the covers up over me. Just plain passed out.
I awoke to a screech of “Yay, horsey!” and Ralph, wearing only a pair of Spiderman briefs, landing right on top of me in the bed! He landed not on my waist, but on my crotch, with his bare legs to either side. The bed’s springs were in awful shape, they bounced the two of us up and down about four or five inches several times from the force of his impact.
“Ride the horsey, ride the horsey!” Ralph cheered and began to bounce up and down to keep the mattress bucking under us. His shock of black hair was uncombed and awry, his bare chest and arms were pale, thin and spindly, no hairs at all below that on his head.
Now, three layers of covering--my briefs (Fruit of the Loom), his briefs and a sheet--are usually plenty of cloth to keep you decent under most circumstances, but Ralph wasn’t just holding still, he was rubbing me back and forth in his motions to make the mattress move. His crotch was rubbing right over the shaft of my own cock, I’d had a bit of “morning wood” to begin with and he was running his small testicles right on top of mine, I could feel the outline of it beneath the layers of clothing and bedding. It felt fucking wonderful to my newly awakened erection.
“Yay, go horsey, go!”