Author's Notes

Authors Notes:

I am the Author, RJC; some may know me as, Skate. I have well over a hundred stories on this site and not to blow my writing horn, I sit at number ten out the most popular Authors on this venue. In a few thousand words I will try and convey to you, the readers, what motivates and influence’s me; kind of a writer’s Bio.

‘Author’s Notes’ is something I started each chapter with and ended most. It provided me an outlet to share a little about what I had written, allowed me to answer readers who had questions, and share some of my real life. In this little Bio, I will re-live some of my most memorable passages, some of my most creative sexual writings, and love of another that transcends to a place few ever have the luxury of experiencing and what fewer will ever know.

I really can’t remember the first story on this site but it caused me to read one after another. In my mid-fifties I mourned the loss of what I talked about; a love that transcends, a luxury few feel.

At the time I was turning seventeen in the summer and had dropped out of school that spring. I’d been the man of our family for the past eight years; my mom and I. Don’t get me wrong thinking we were poor and I needed to work so we could buy food or that I wasn’t smart. It was the opposite of that.

I’m getting sidetracked. It was the third of March, 1977. A friend; well, he was a fuck buddy, turned me on to this little cedar mill less than two miles from my house. It would be a little more than a month before I saw him. Robby was small in stature, skin, like a girl, and these blue, fucking, eyes. That was the day it started. He would be turning sixteen in the fall.

I’d had girlfriends, fuck buddies since fourteen, and I was popular. This job was so… far from my comfort zone I wondered after the first day if I would show up tomorrow. I did show up the next day and the one after that. As I moved up through the ranks of that little place Robby and I grew closer.

The summer of that year I turned seventeen and it was the first time I saw Robby, naked. At the prompting of his guardian, I took Rob under my wing: like I needed any pushing in that direction. It was the third of July when he stayed with me after work on a Friday to spend the Fourth with me. It was a ruse.

I had bought him some clothes that had nothing in common with blue jeans, flannel, and boots. Had his hair styled in a way he could wear a hat but look fuckin awesome after being blow-dried with a little spray. Or just natural running his fingers through it.

My house is kind of a V, broken up into two wings. Well, it’s my mom's house. Brief description. You walk into the living room, the bottom of the V. It opens wider with a wall that opens to a hall on the right and goes into the kitchen. On the left of the wall is the dining room and another hall leading to a large guest room.

My room was the master now along with the two other bedrooms along with a Jack and Jill bath that was to the left. I’d pointed him to my old room a week ago after buying him a new wardrobe and I found him in the shower after I’d showered, dressed, and wondered what his stoned ass was doing. Oh? Did I say, I was a big, stoner???

Anyway. I walked through my old room via the sitting room and heard the shower. I moved into the sound of running water asking if he was ok? The shower turned off, I was looking in the mirror at the shower door when it opened; and he stepped out. Just fuck me into next week.

“I’m good.” He said to my eyes in the mirror showing no sign of modesty.

His upper body was tanned, the start of everything was there; he’d been pulling the green chain from the time he was twelve. As I followed a long droplet of water down his chest, over what would be an awesome fuckin six-pack someday, there it hung. Soft he was around four inches, about the same thickness as me, and I wondered if he beat off like I had twenty minutes ago.

I had seen tons of guys in the showers and stuff, even showered with a couple of guys; just us two. I couldn’t catch my breath, it was becoming hard to see, and I ran the towel I held meant for him over my face. He pushed his fingers through his hair, looked down on his dripping body running his hands down, then met my eyes in the mirror that were looking at him. Totally busted.

Fuck me! I am a guy who could always think of something to say; I was speechless. I would later find out that we could have been cock twins. That night I took Rob to a get-together with some of my friends; some my age and other seniors. They loved Robby. It was the first time I used my voice other than to talk and my fingers knew their way around strings.

I regress. Robby went back east with me at the end of August, 77. I’d been bequeathed my Fathers parents estate, going back generations; Willow’s, as I call it. That was many first’s, for Robby and me. First kiss. We’d jacked off together, each other, but this was seven days of firsts. He would be sixteen ten days after we got home. Fuck me.

All of what you are thinking happened, first sucking, first breaching, when love showed its self again there was never a going back. And we didn’t. We suffered a tragedy within months of his sixteenth birthday. Robby came to live with me. That was November, 5, 77. I was still seventeen and my mom seemed to understand in her room to the left.

My birthday and his came and went, twice. In that time love and trust grew to a point where it might fall over the edge of the planet. We had shared the same bed for over six hundred nights. Thanksgiving of 79, we were in an accident. That was when everything became so… clear.

Robby and I married in the heart living in or home as equals. We did a remodel, changed the two bedrooms with a Jack and Jill, to just a Jack, and used the space from Jill’s room adding to our new sitting- music room. That would be our first Christmas.

Years of love and turmoil plagued us; Robby’s diabetes before he turned eighteen. With the money I’d inherited, the money I was making brokering, life was good. Not a worry in the world. Enter life. Robs’ diabetes took a bigger toll on us than most. You will have to go back and read it for yourself, may help you understand, ‘Robby and Ryan’.

At 22 Robby graduated from the UW; top of his class, purple cord and all. Life was ok. Enter Life. Ryan and Robby grew apart and cocaine reared its ugly head. Not me; Robby. We lasted a year and he couldn’t handle me helping; he left in late 84.

Think about it. Rob and I had been together seven years; in the late seventies and early eighties. We were a couple and only one person ever said a word. We were a team, a force, something to be reckoned with. And then cocaine.

I married in again 86, this time for real. Robby, who was kind of clean at the time, wanted to let go and he was my, Best man. Hard to let go. Try it some time. ‘Side Note’, Movie Theater Popcorn, extra butter, Junior Mints, and Dots. Red liquesce.

Author’s Notes.

For those who read and those who have been with me since the beginning; I need a break. I have too much going on and my distraction from distractions just isn’t cutting it. Like I told a reader, “It doesn’t excite me anymore. I feel like I am not producing to the level, readers deserve. What I’ve started here is something that will be worth reading and I will continue during my time off.

I would encourage all who read this to click on RJC; read all that is me. Read comments, Authors Notes, and vote again. It only took me about two hours to pump out fourteen hundred words for this chapter. I wondered if readers wanting to read about a writer; would it be something of interest? Only time, comments, and voting will tell.

This will be hard for me; not posting regularly. Robby was born on September 14th, 1961, and died on December 6th, 1996. During those three months, I sleep very little, drink and smoke way too much, but I have two who depend on me now. I will post from time to time but not with regularity, I will write without the pressure of being on time.

Many thanks to those who have been faithful followers, all of you who walked every mile with me, Commented and Voted, raising me to number ten. If you read comments, it would sound like this, “I laughed and cried like the first time.” “I never saw that cuming.” And a lot like that.

My readers, The Renegades, have read all I’ve written, a group that likes to read and immerse themselves in what comes from me. As a writer; you can’t let them down. But that I must for a while. I’m not off the grid and D told me to enjoy my G-demon friends, and I will take him up on that. RJC.