It took a while, but eventually I got used to having my teenage son's achingly handsome boyfriend around. That night at the beach, when all of us stood on the deck looking at the stars and they didn't hide the fact that they were kissing passionately, kind of wired me up, but only while it was happening.
Fast forward to today: my son is leaving for college. Because he and the boyfriend will be so far from each other, they decided to break up. As of last week they are still friends, but officially Not A Couple. Enter Tim, who's suddenly spending every night at our house. "I thought I might has well have a last-week fling. Tim and I have always really liked each other, always been attracted to each other, but I was in a relationship, so we never did anything."
The problem is that Tim, who's 20, looks almost exactly like Mike did at 18. Dark hair, nearly black eyes, heavy eyebrows, tall, lean, very broad shoulders. Whip smart, charming, outgoing, looks me right in the eye when he talks to me. He's the personification of the lust that I've carried since my teens. And he's having sex with another guy at the other end of the hallway from my bedroom. I'm completely distracted.
Of course, of course, I know that even if I could have Tim, I wouldn't have what I want, which is to be 18 again with Mike. But what I wouldn't give just to smell him!
Tuesday, August 17, 2010
Sunday, May 23, 2010
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Where it all began
"Have you ever sucked anyone's dick?"
This is my best friend, Mike, asking something I'm completely not expecting. We talk about sex all the time, but sex is something that happens with girls. Any one of the guys I know will say "Suck my dick" or "eat my ass" the same way we say "fuck you" when we're horsing around. But this is different; Mike's never said anything to make me think he knows some guys actually do it with each other.
Ever since we met at the beginning of the school year, Mike and I have been practically inseparable. No one really understands why, including me. He's captain of our high school basketball team...and the swim team; he's drop-dead funny; he's the bad boy that everybody loves. I came here from another school where being smart was a bigger deal than being good at sports, and I don't know many people. I have to take two senior classes to keep up with the work I was doing before, so I'm not even with the rest of my grade part of the time. It turns out that Mr. Popular Jock and Mr. Latin Club play really well together. The same things make us laugh like maniacs, and we both need to be bad, and to us it doesn't matter that he loves sports as much as I love to read.
Tonight we're sitting in a clearing in the woods behind my house, watching the moon rise and talking about all the things we want when we're old enough leave home. When, out of nowhere, he asks me if I've ever done it with a guy, I don't even bother to think this might be some kind of trap. My head swims for a second, and I say, "Yeah, I have." My tone of voice is supposed to be like "I'm cooler than you." I expect him to say, "Eat my ass, man. You have not!" But he doesn't say anything.
I could die now, right? Maybe I could become a firefly and buzz off. "Have you?" I ask, trying to keep my voice level.
He studies his bare knees for a long time before he finally mutters, "Uh huh," nodding his head. Then he looks up and breaks into that huge grin.
"Goddamn, Reed," he says, "You been holdin out on me! Why didn't you tell me, man? When I stayed with you last time your folks were out of town, I dropped all kinds of hints. Why'd you think I got in bed with no clothes on? But you didn't even touch me; you just went to sleep like you didn't give a shit. I was so fuckin horny I jacked off right there next to you. I thought about wiping the cum on your underpants."
"Wow! I had no idea. I didn't know you wanted to do anything."
"Yeah, well I do."
Before I can say, "Holy shit!", I'm lying on my back looking up at the moon framed by the cheeks of Mike's ass, his hardon inches above my mouth. Spiky tendrils of hair point from his crack to the stars before they spread into soft fur across his backside. I think, "I will remember this forever." I wonder what he's thinking. What I know is that he's going down on me like he's starving to death, making me afraid he might swallow my dick whole. It's so overwhelming I can't tell for sure whether I like it or not.
I'm more interested in him than I am in me. I pull his foreskin back and forth over the head of his dick, amazed that we're so different, fascinated by this new feeling of a silky sheath cocooning a hardon. I lick the tip, surprised by something salty and sticky that tastes good. That's it. I grab a mound of his ass with each hand and steer him as far into my mouth as I can.
I don't know what to make of the smell of his crotch, which I sort of love and which sort of repulses me because it smells so much like boy. He tastes great though, and I like the way his body feels hovering over mine, a tent of muscle, sinew, bone. I knead the small of his back, his ass, the backs of his long thighs. When I pull him too far toward the back of my throat, I can't breathe, but I am happier than I can ever remember being.
This is my best friend, Mike, asking something I'm completely not expecting. We talk about sex all the time, but sex is something that happens with girls. Any one of the guys I know will say "Suck my dick" or "eat my ass" the same way we say "fuck you" when we're horsing around. But this is different; Mike's never said anything to make me think he knows some guys actually do it with each other.
Ever since we met at the beginning of the school year, Mike and I have been practically inseparable. No one really understands why, including me. He's captain of our high school basketball team...and the swim team; he's drop-dead funny; he's the bad boy that everybody loves. I came here from another school where being smart was a bigger deal than being good at sports, and I don't know many people. I have to take two senior classes to keep up with the work I was doing before, so I'm not even with the rest of my grade part of the time. It turns out that Mr. Popular Jock and Mr. Latin Club play really well together. The same things make us laugh like maniacs, and we both need to be bad, and to us it doesn't matter that he loves sports as much as I love to read.
Tonight we're sitting in a clearing in the woods behind my house, watching the moon rise and talking about all the things we want when we're old enough leave home. When, out of nowhere, he asks me if I've ever done it with a guy, I don't even bother to think this might be some kind of trap. My head swims for a second, and I say, "Yeah, I have." My tone of voice is supposed to be like "I'm cooler than you." I expect him to say, "Eat my ass, man. You have not!" But he doesn't say anything.
I could die now, right? Maybe I could become a firefly and buzz off. "Have you?" I ask, trying to keep my voice level.
He studies his bare knees for a long time before he finally mutters, "Uh huh," nodding his head. Then he looks up and breaks into that huge grin.
"Goddamn, Reed," he says, "You been holdin out on me! Why didn't you tell me, man? When I stayed with you last time your folks were out of town, I dropped all kinds of hints. Why'd you think I got in bed with no clothes on? But you didn't even touch me; you just went to sleep like you didn't give a shit. I was so fuckin horny I jacked off right there next to you. I thought about wiping the cum on your underpants."
"Wow! I had no idea. I didn't know you wanted to do anything."
"Yeah, well I do."
Before I can say, "Holy shit!", I'm lying on my back looking up at the moon framed by the cheeks of Mike's ass, his hardon inches above my mouth. Spiky tendrils of hair point from his crack to the stars before they spread into soft fur across his backside. I think, "I will remember this forever." I wonder what he's thinking. What I know is that he's going down on me like he's starving to death, making me afraid he might swallow my dick whole. It's so overwhelming I can't tell for sure whether I like it or not.
I'm more interested in him than I am in me. I pull his foreskin back and forth over the head of his dick, amazed that we're so different, fascinated by this new feeling of a silky sheath cocooning a hardon. I lick the tip, surprised by something salty and sticky that tastes good. That's it. I grab a mound of his ass with each hand and steer him as far into my mouth as I can.
I don't know what to make of the smell of his crotch, which I sort of love and which sort of repulses me because it smells so much like boy. He tastes great though, and I like the way his body feels hovering over mine, a tent of muscle, sinew, bone. I knead the small of his back, his ass, the backs of his long thighs. When I pull him too far toward the back of my throat, I can't breathe, but I am happier than I can ever remember being.
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