At 55 years of age, Attorney Daniel James Prescott was bored with retirement.
He had already wasted enough of it traveling all over the world, taking long cruises out of Martha's Vineyard on his 110' yacht, The Lady Jane, bi-monthly gambling trips to Las Vegas, and countless other luxury excursions that a wealthy, aging multi-millionaire typically spent an insignificant amount of his vast fortune on annually.
But what Daniel missed most lately was fishing with his best friend and canine companion Maxwell on Saturday mornings. With Daniel, Maxwell had lived a healthy 11 year long life for a Doberman Pincher, until an unfortunate car chase ended rather abruptly beneath the rear wheels of an elderly neighbor's '09 Lincoln Navigator 3 months earlier. Mrs. Marge DuBois, a 70-something blind as a bat widow who should've had her state driver's license revoked years earlier, didn't even know that she flattened sweet old Maxwell underneath her back tires, the poor thing.
Daniel Prescott was also fed up with ordering 'professional' women and call girls to get his head--both of them--off Jane, his late wife and tireless passionate lover. Jane had been the only person he shared every interest and desire with, both in and out of their bedroom, and the only woman that he ever truly understood and loved with all his heart.
Jane's poor driving and texting habits finally caught up with her. Few survive a 75 mph head-on with a tractor-trailer and live long enough to say much about it. Even Benz's can be a death machine, and on that tragic day, September 11, 2001, Jane was frantically texting her twin brother trapped in a New York Tower. Neither survived.
Her death brought out the worst in Daniel, often turning to liquor, hardcore drugs, and call girls to fill the deep black emptiness Jane had left behind. But Jane was in the past now, 12 sad lonely years. With his retirement at the end of its third year, Daniel knew it was time to find someone else for a permanent new relationship, and also to find something else rather than the same miserable grind he was stuck living day to day.
Without any children or family, Daniel's life had become boring and dull. Uneventful.
Daniel wanted a change in his life. A big change. Something that would blow the wealthy minds of all his old political associates and contacts if he called them up just to tell them what had happened. Something to stun the Washington politicians he once counseled and made his fortune from. "Hi, Peter. Daniel here. Guess what happened to me today?" Daniel chuckled.
Rising from his leather arm chair, Daniel walked into the kitchen and stopped at the refrigerator. "Nope! A nice long jog would feel better right about now," Daniel said out loud, surveying the expansive kitchen. It too looked lifeless.
And passing back out through the dead living room, Daniel tucked his cell phone into its leather case and slipped it into the front leg pocket of his shorts, coded the mansion's alarm, and stepped outside.
Birds, robins, Daniel guessed, were calling out to their mates, singing their lullaby's and eager greetings to one another from the shade trees.
It was a just a few minutes after 7 AM, Daniel saw, checking the $12,000 Piaget on his wrist.
Something felt different today. Daniel could feel it in the warm July air.
At the end of his driveway, Daniel went to the right instead of the normal western route he'd exclusively run each morning, planning on a longer 6-mile trek rather than a 2-mile jog winding through his quiet, gated community upper-class suburban neighborhood.
Somehow, today would be the day Daniel Prescott's life changed.
Forever.
Two miles away from his front door step, Daniel Prescott stopped and read the small sign for the new park the town recently built. Hm? That's a strange name for a park, Daniel thought, silently skimming below the name on the sign. Over two years ago, Daniel noted, reading the smaller text near the bottom. Completed in 2012. It was one of those new fangled skate parks for the local kids, a place to get together and do whatever it was kids did these days. He'd signed the voting petition to ban the re-building, a host of injury lawsuits just waiting to be filed he knew, especially with all the metal and cut up pipes, concrete and lumber the builders requested before construction started.
But his signature was the last thing Daniel had remembered about the new park project.
Daniel jogged on catching glimpses between the thick tree branches and dew coated leaves of huge inverted half pipes with wooden contraptions built alongside them, and also, of the tall sturdy chain link fences that obviously surrounded the entire site. The park itself was set back deeply from the street, toward a densely wooded conservation area. Probably to cut down the expected noise for the nearby residences, he thought. Several giant stadium lights mounted on pairs of utility poles were set at opposite ends of the large asphalt park. They appeared to be powerful enough to illuminate every square inch of the place at night.
A wide foot path, worn down to dirt through the landscaped grasses, lead right to the entrance gate of RAINBOW SKATE PARK. Strange name, Daniel thought, again, and then said the name out loud this time. "Rainbow Skate Park. Sounds a bit catchy."
"What does, Mister?" a young boy's slightly accented voice questioned from beside and to the left of him, stealing Daniel from his thoughts.
Turning toward the voice, Daniel glanced down at a small 4'3" Asian kid standing no more than 2 to 3 feet away from him. He hadn't heard anyone's approach. The boy looked about 8 or 9 years old, dressed as if he was coming from or going to a Halloween costume party, except this was July. He was thin, anorexic-looking thin, and the boy's baggy red shorts were several sizes too big for him and drooped as low as the boxer briefs he was wearing beneath them. Pale brown skeletal legs, supported by a ratty old pair of black and red faded sneakers marked Osiris on each tongue, nervously swayed back and forth like teak pendulums. The boy's oversized tank top, tied into a girlish knot above his waist as if to purposely flaunt the hairless 4-inch gap between the bottom of his shirt and the loose waistband of his boxers, even enhanced the pale honey color of the hairless flesh on his abdomen, bony arms and tiny, emaciated shoulders. But it was the tall spiked fan-like Mohawk on his head that mesmerized Daniel.
"Ah, I'm sorry, what?" Daniel replied, struggling to pull his stare off the young boy's outrageous Mohawk.
"What's catchy? You sick or somethin'? I hope you're not some pervert cruisin' for little queer boys here, are you, Mister?"
"I-I ... HELL no!" Daniel exclaimed, shocked by the youngster's question.
He hadn't seen a hairstyle like the boy's since visiting London in 2011 when his hired driver took a detour around Piccadilly Square during the UK's Rebel Nation Day. Daniel glanced over toward the park, and then back to the little boy.
It was at that moment Daniel noticed the 'little' boy was not an 8 or 9 year old, but a somewhat short, 4'9", 14 or 15 year old athletic Asian teenager. His glossy black hair, parted neatly in the middle, created two thick oily breaking waves extended out over his forehead, then curving backward and down onto his face like lengthy open curtains. The teen's well-developed muscles were clearly noticeable from the chest-hugging white tank top he wore, and undeniable with the impressive biceps on his shiny arms.
Daniel glanced around behind him, looking left and then to the right for the young boy. He shook his head. "Were you with that little ..." Daniel paused, knowing how stupid he would sound by asking this muscular teenager standing right in front of him what he was about to ask. But there WAS a little pubescent boy here just a moment ago! "... that little Asian kid? H-he was just here! He was younger, shorter than you! You're about 5'6" tall? Maybe 5'7"? Where did he go? I know I'm not seeing things, but I-I--"
"Are you feelin' okay, Mister?" the Asian teen interrupted, and reached out his hand to assist the confused older man. "You don't look so good!"
Actually, the 6'2" well-built old man looked very good to 19-year-old Vien Van Cong Ngo, and he was now having a tough time keeping his increasing arousal from revealing itself. At this age, his hormones had kicked into overdrive and made his young family's physical aging challenge more difficult to age himself. The older man's body seemed fairly beefy and toned, refreshingly masculine with an adequate mass of muscle in the arms, legs, and chest, creating an appealing physique. His vibrant blue eyes, sharp Anglo pointed nose, plump fleshy lips, deep cleft chin, and perfectly groomed brownish auburn hair hinted at some Irish or distant Scottish heritage. The beginnings of a receding hairline and the salt-and-pepper graying hairs at his temples and close cropped sides were an unsettling distraction. Vien had even targeted this older man because of the salt-and-pepper hair. It said he was comfortable with his advancing age and appearance, enough not to hide it with dyes like some of them needed to look or feel younger, believing that it made them more appealing. That was the exact type of man Vien wanted in their group, his youthful family. Someone smart, mature, and comfortable with their body and looks who could help them actively grow their internet business, but then become more suitable to participate in some rather demanding XXX-rated filming in a much younger body.
Daniel quickly pulled away from the muscular teenager's outstretched hand, becoming even more alarmed and confused when he registered the same little boy's voice in the teen's voice, only a bit deeper and more mature. "I'm fine! But he ... you ... I mean, I know what I saw, or thought I did. It's just that I thought you looked younger, like a little 9 year old kid, but I-I was obviously wrong, well, now that I see those muscles on your arms and chest I mean, shit, it's clear I was mistaken."
And as Daniel stared at the long-haired teenager, the boy began to noticeably age and grow slightly taller right in front of him! Transfixed by the impossibility of what he was witnessing, Daniel couldn't move. This isn't possible his mind screamed inside his head, yet somehow it really was happening, and possible! Daniel watched the teenager's changes continue, speechless.
The Asian teen's shiny hair grew more dense, deeper and thicker, the black curtains over his face slowly retracting to spiky long bangs as the pointed sideburns lengthened along both cheeks and tapered sharply to his jaw line. Longer silky hairs spread down the back of his neck, formed a wide square tail between broad shoulders as the dark glossy blanket coating his scalp thickened another inch. His chest and abdominal's expanded with bony cracks and snaps, growing slightly longer and larger, pushing outward against the tight white tank top so that even the stiffened tips of his dark nipples were visibly pressing it out with two miniature points in the rounded center of both enlarged pecs. The tank top slowly climbed upwards from the teen's narrow waist, stretched close to its tearing limits by the ripped, hard 6-pack's solid bulging contours and sharp V-shaped build now enlarging his sculpted abdomen. Daniel noticed the dense crop of jet-black pubic hairs above those low sagging boxer's waistband, shocked he could even spot distinct movements within its velvet-like jungle as additional strands of black hair were actually sprouting and filling in the areas around them to create a more abundant and thicker, older-looking bush. An
uncomfortably blatant and almost disturbing visual suddenly appeared along the front of the teen's red shorts, Daniel saw, but even the teenager's steeply tented crotch and clearly stiffened manhood that continued pushing the material out to its scandalous pyramid-shaped bulge was not as horrifying or shameful to him as the reality that Daniel Prescott was still undeniably watching, and now enjoying, the teen getting an impressive large erection.
And even worse than any part of the incredible changes happening to the Asian teenager, Daniel felt almost sexually intoxicated by the teen, and nearly turned-on by what he had just seen, until the sound of approaching childish laughter and shouting voices awakened or snapped him out of his mesmerized immobility.
"Holy shit!" Daniel shouted, pivoting his head to see the source of the laughter and the increasing cacophony of loud boisterous shouting. "What the hell?"
Mmm. Yup! Those were the two swears that did it for me, Vien thought, smiling.
Weaving, traversing and approaching Rainbow Park from the eastern side of town known for its low-income population, no less than 60 skateboarders of varying ability, race, size, and age bore down on the asphalt wonder of the skate park with wild, boundless childlike anticipation, and an infectious exhilaration for whatever another fun-filled day had in store for them.
Most had banded together in groups of 3's and 4's without any apparent commonality or decisive link that might connect them to one indistinguishable group from another.
And all of them looked like they were young males between 10 and 20 years old.
Daniel also noticed countless variations of clothes, hairstyles, hair color, jewelry and trinket pierced body parts, tattoos, backpacks, and lingo among the youthful skaters as they drew closer and headed toward the park's gate. As each reached the sidewalk or grassy areas, they began jumping, kicking, flipping, or even somersaulting over their skateboards that had somehow always ended up in their hands regardless of the insane methods they used to pick up the multi-patterned, colored, and oddly styled boards each had arrived with.
For Daniel Prescott, it appeared to be just like a passing circus caravan had arrived in town, crowded with odd unseen marvels, talented daredevil performers, costumes, and an assortment of entertaining, spectacular proud freaks.
"That's totally amazing!" Daniel said, repeating the same words used by a skinny, lime green-haired teenager passing by with his effeminate, hand-holding boyfriend. Daniel glanced back over toward the beefy, 5'10" Asian teenager with the extremely glossy, long spiky mullet-looking hairstyle now standing conspicuously closer beside him. "Don't you agree?"
Daniel inspected the teenager's sharply chiseled facial features more intently than he had earlier, thinking for a moment it was kind of odd he couldn't remember a thing about this Asian guy's exotic face. Normally, Daniel prided his abilities to see someone once and remember their details without a hitch. He'd already expected the narrowly slanted eyes and hidden eyelids despite his lack of interest and very limited dealings with the entire Asian race, but the sheen in the teen's dark brown eyes reflected light as bright and sleek as the black eyebrows and equally glossy hair above. The muscular teen could have stated he was 18 years old or even 30 and Daniel may have believed him. Except his smooth adolescent flesh, accentuated by its rich maple syrup color, held a tiny chrome barbell pierced in each thick black eyebrow, and appeared untouched by any imperfections or signs of even a blemish, suggesting he was no more than 18 or 19. Even the skinny soul patch of hair below his mouth was faint and sparse, barely more noticeable--even up this close--than the failing attempt at a pencil thin mustache that closely resembled a stripe of overlooked dirt beneath his wide flared nostrils.
"Sure, bro! Whatever," the teen replied, and chuckled with a mischievous playful grin. He nervously tapped out a frenzied tempo with his gleaming new Osiris' and searched the approaching heads and faces eagerly, loudly screaming out when he spotted them. "About time you guys showed! Been waiting here with this guy over 10 whole. You know, waitin' for someone is not my favorite thing to be doin', dudes! Sorry, sometime I just like YELLIN' at something. Or them! They know I'm just messin' with them. "So, bro, umm, what you say your name was, again?"
A friendly bump from the Asian's elbow into his arm diverted Daniel's attention from the dwindling parade of assorted teens still skateboarding down the street and sidewalks, to 4 teenagers carrying flashy skateboards and fat backpacks energetically walking straight toward them.
"Uh, I never did," Daniel replied, believing that too was unlike him. Regardless of whom he'd ever spoken to at length, an introduction was the first thing he did. Extending his right hand outward for a handshake, Daniel stated, "My name's Daniel. Attorney Daniel James Prescott. Very pleased to make your acquaintance. And you are ..."
"Dude? What's up with them formals, bro?" the teen asked, bumping the knuckles of his clenched left hand into Daniel's splayed fingers. He continued when his four friends stopped briefly to invade some other group's conversation. "Name's Vien. The sheep, oh wait, you won't know what ... you not hang out with us, duh. Guys who wanna chill here just to be hanging with the sick crowds are sheep, 'cept those we train for some bro or local. Around sheep I'm call Kongo, Kong, Van-Ngo, Congo-Kong, whatever. Locals sorta tagged me with many others. But the 'rents name me Vien Van Cong Ngo since that's like my name. Hey! Dudes! See? I told you guys it wasn't gonna take a long time here. If you gonna use swear words, pick the bad ones, like fuck, asshole, anything like those, dude. Otherwi', makes your challenge too easy and not last."
Trying to follow along or even understand some of what Vin-Congo-something had said was not very easy for Daniel. Between his soft mumbled voice, the rapidly spoken lingo, and that unfamiliar slight Asian accent of some phrases, the guy seemed to be using some made up language, and he seemed to change topics almost randomly. Daniel also felt something had changed since meeting this guy, but he couldn't quite figure out what it was that could have possibly changed.
It almost seemed as if his memories or perceptions had been slightly altered, or somehow edited despite the ridiculousness of thinking something like that was even possible.
But Daniel knew he'd only just met the Asian teenager when he was jogging because he'd accidentally knocked the unseen kid off his skateboard. He clearly remembered helping the kid to his feet, apologizing, thinking the handsome kid looked attractive enough to star in a blockbuster Hollywood movie, and had a body built better than the male models in those New York men's fashion magazines. That thought had seemed a bit strange, too, because Daniel never read or even scanned through men's fashion magazines since most of his clothes were custom made. Then the teenager's shout to the four approaching teens surprised and had shifted Daniel's attention back to meeting this Asian's friends.
The first of the four teens who'd arrived, another Asian but boyishly young-looking kid with fine, wispy black hair parted in the center and cut in severe shaved angles at the sides of his head, wearing baggy orange shorts and a loose orange T-shirt, ratty looking DC hi-tops, and carrying a bulky backpack and attached skateboard, said, "That didn't take you long at all, dude! Would've liked watching how it went down, bro."
An older looking teen with dirty-blond streaked shaggy hair, striking green eyes, baggy camo shorts sporting a wallet chain hooked from a belt loop to a bulge inside his back pocket, a worn out camo Army T-shirt decorated with faded patches, said, "Ditto that, Oki. You've got your shit back mad quick, Vien. Sick. Who's the old guy?"
"Major old," said a perspiring Latino with shoulder length dark hair slicked back from his light bronzed forehead glazed with sweat. He dropped his dirt-stained backpack and customized Lifeblood skateboard on the grass beside Vien's customized Mystery board and black DC skateboard backpack, belching loudly.
Daniel spotted the Mexican-looking kid's bright blue eyes as the teen turned back toward him. He'd never seen a Mexican with light blue eyes, and they looked brighter and more striking than even the dirty-blond kid's emerald green eyes.
"Real juvenile sometimes, Miguel," the 6'3" platinum blond and tallest of the group said, and smacked the Latino's arm with the back of his hand, giggling. He propped his gouged skateboard, another board labeled Lifeblood, against his hairy left leg. "Name's Tyler Quinn. Call me Ty, or Quinn. This addict's Miguel. Gomez, I think, or M'n-M."
"Too funny, Ty. It's Martinez. Was jus' messin' with him, dude. What up?"
"Hi." Daniel responded, tapping his knuckles with the tall platinum blond kid offering his clenched fist, repeated with the Latino. He instantly noticed the young Latino's unpleasant body odor's strong peppery tanginess as the teen quickly pivoted around and began wrestling the
older blond rather aggressively.
Daniel was wondering if he should introduce himself since it didn't seem as though Vien was going to, but before he'd decided if he should open his mouth or not, Vien started speaking.
"Baby face over there is Okito Takahashi," Vien said, flicking his pursed lips at the boyish-looking teen. "We call him Oki. He's Japanese. Oh, and soldier boy's name is Ryan Bentley, the third, right, Ryan? His brother was in the Army, that's where he got that camo stuff he always wears. Come on! Knock it off, Miguel. Ty will kick your ass, again, bro. Martinez thinks he's like the best wrestler, 'cept Ty's won like every time they've ... what I tell you, Miguel? Warned you. I keep getting off on these tangents, bro, sorry. Hey! Listen up a minute, guys. This's Danny. He's cool. But I've been thinkin' we should invite Danny in, maybe even ask him if he wants to come with, hang here with us instead, watch our 3-session inside Rainbow."
"What?" Daniel questioned, and turned his head to look at Vien, confused. "Me?"
"Down with me," Oki and Ryan said in unison.
"That's very major, bro," Ty muttered, brushing dirt and grass from his golden pelted legs below loose, knee-length sky-blue shorts. "Finally, Vien. If you think he's gonna say yes, dude, we could try your 'Best One Rules' game and have him choose who's best to see what happens. Maybe even make this a contest with a righteous ending later."
Miguel stepped back toward the group with his Lifeblood skateboard tucked under his arm, incessantly combing his slick, coffee color hair back from his forehead with his fingers. He looked at Vien, quickly checked out the trophy, and then said, "Seriously, dude? For reals? You really wanna invite him inside, man?"
But Miguel loved skate contests. And any challenge to prove his mad skills were pro as Vien's inside Rainbow's pipes and killer kinked rails then Miguel wanted in on it. But he wasn't really interested in the stranger if Ryan and Ty were interested. They had better luck tempting guys.
"If he wants in," Vien said, and turned toward Daniel, quickly adding, "I'm willing to take the risk if you are, Danny. You wanna follow us inside, watch our 3-hour session and be a judge for us? Kinda even tell us who's the best, Daniel."
...Daniel says: