TRUE FIRST TIME TALES
Yet another reader liked what I did for others, telling their stories of their first times, and presented his.
It might be true or not, but I came up with this story to tell of his first time. It tells the truth, his truth, just more than the simple truth. His explanation follows the story.
Here is Benny's first time.
This happened in the summer between junior high and high school. I lived in a small town in Indiana called Huntington, not very big, but famous for Dan Quayle who was vice president back then. Now, a few roads and a highway remember his name, but then, he was big news.
I was barely fourteen. My birthday was the week after graduation from eighth grade. I think I was a pretty normal guy, mostly. I had a few friends, a couple of really good friends, a best friend, a bike that got me around town well enough, the new Nintendo video game in my room, a phone on my bedside table that wasn't a corny old rotary thing, and was looking forward to being a real high school student.
I was kind of tall, like my dad. I think he was about six feet tall. Mom was tall, too. So I never thought I was going to be small. I had my mom's hair, real light blond and straight. Had her mouth, too. Small and with fat lips. I thought they made me look girly, so I started keeping a kind of frown on my face, keeping my lips tight and straight. I got my big frame from my dad, and his big ears and huge brown eyes. I mean huge, brown eyes. They looked like they belonged on Ewoks or something.
I'm going to brag, but the truth isn't really bragging, right? I was really hung. I was fourteen, and measuring it since the hair started at barely thirteen. Back then, the major source of information outside of school and textbooks was the library. I had found out there and from talk with the guys, and some show and tell, that four to five inches was normal at my age. Four was pretty normal, less was still normal, depending on if you had hair yet, and how much. Five was really long for fourteen. Unless I had a freak of a ruler, I was six and a quarter inches on my fourteenth birthday. It was thin, though, so it was shaped like one of those permanent markers. I was cut and it wasn't smooth at all. Veins made it seem sort of rough, and the flared edges of the head stuck out more than what I saw on my friends.
I hoped I was pretty average, otherwise. I never thought about fags, except in jokes or calling a friend one as a joke. I just didn't think about that. In small-town Indiana in the eighties, gays were on the news as spreading AIDS, wore weird clothes, and lived in big cities - they had nothing to do with us.
Especially not barely fourteen-year-old me and my friends.
That summer, Gabriel Sheer moved into town. His parents did, so he did, too. He moved into a house that had been empty almost all year, after the old couple there moved in with their son in Fort Wayne. They cleaned the place up and me and Russell were playing in my yard one day, when that kid came out of their garage with a mower, obviously to mow the yard. We felt like spying, he didn't seem to have seen us, so we went inside and sat in my room and watched out my window as he fought with the mower for a long time before he put gas down the carburetor and it finally started.
As he bent over the mower, pulling the cord over and over, his butt and legs showed off in his tight jeans. He had to be a little older than us. It was blazingly hot, and he took off his shirt before he got the mower started. Now we could tell that he was way older than us. He had hair on his chest and obviously worked out. It didn't do anything to me at all. I wasn't gay at all. Russell made jokes, I did too, and soon I saw how Russell was touching himself.
"Fag," I teased with a laugh.
I remember how he got really red in the face and laughed kind of funny, but it didn't mean anything to fourteen-year-old me. He stopped doing that, but it got me kind of hard, which made me feel pretty weird.
I'd discovered jerking off about a year before. I was doing it every day, sometimes more than once. I liked to do it in the shower at night, before I went to bed. Russ had stayed over last night, and I didn't have a shower, so I didn't get to. Maybe that was why it got hard. But it got hard and stayed hard.
As we spied on our new neighbor, Russ lived behind me, so almost behind the new guy too, I wondered why watching him sweat and mow grass would make him hard. There was only one reason, and I knew Russ was no fag. He was my very best friend, and lived behind me, so we spent a lot of time together. If he was a homo, I'd know it. So I thought. It was obviously one of those random popup ones.
What didn't occur to me, was that Russ wasn't sure yet, but was about to know for sure.
We joked about him being so stupid, as it took him so long to get the mower started. We played Nintendo for a while. Russ said he wanted to go home for a while and would come back after dinner. He didn't come back later, but that wasn't all that unusual.
That week, I didn't see Russ as much as usual. He came over during the evening, after my folks got home, and stayed over most nights. He was kind of quiet. It seemed like he was mad, or sad. Not a lot, but enough it was there. During the day, he was simply gone. I asked, but he said he had things to do.
We planned on watching the Creature Feature Saturday night at my place. Like normal. Out of all of us, I had the largest, and color, television in my room, so that was simply that. I loved being in the dark with him, or other friends, watching old monster movies, under a blanket. Russ always came over Saturday nights, as he was usually there every day anyway. Usually Terry and Bill came over, too, sometimes Joe. They were my four best friends. Terry and Bill were like Russ and me, and Joe was sort of the loner. We all lived in the same new part of town, the same subdivision, so we all became friends.
The next Saturday night, Terry and Bill came over by six, and Joe showed up just before the movie started. We waited for Russ, but he didn't show up as the creepy Creature Feature music started. So Terry and Bill got under one blanket on the floor, and me and Joe got under one on my bed. It was hot, and I didn't have an air conditioner in my room, so everybody wore shorts and swimming trunks, like normal, knowing it was going to be hot and we would be watching the monster movies under blankets. I had the luxury of wearing pajamas. Joe did too because he was going to stay the night. Terry and Bill were going to walk to Terry's house later, after the movie, and once the parents there broke up their card game and then they could raid the fridge in peace.
The movie wasn't too bad, and before too long, Russ came over. Joe made to get up so he could have his usual place next to me, but Russ pushed him back down on his front next to me and then he sat with his back to the headboard like Joe usually did. I could tell something was wrong with Russ without even thinking. I think even the other guys could tell.
The movie ended, and Terry and Bill left like normal. They liked staying at his place more than at mine. I knew why, my house had cement floors under the carpet, like theirs. We weren't all going to pile onto my bed, that was gay. Two could fit, and with the small Joe, it was tight but okay. We were all getting bigger, and soon it would be weird, even if all three of us still fit.
That night, there wasn't anything else on the four television channels we picked up in our little town, so we played Nintendo and my computer, taking turns with each other on the Nintendo, winner taking on the odd man out who was stuck with the crappier games on the computer until then.
Russ wasn't very happy, even Joe asked him what was wrong, but he seemed to get better by midnight or about. We had a pretty good time. Joe fell asleep, and Russ said he was too tired to play another game, so we stretched out and sort of powered down.
It was dark and Russ was shaking me awake and whispering. He said he needed to talk about something really important. I said okay, but he wanted to be even more alone than we were with Joe pretty much snoring in bed with us. We sneaked out to the back yard and behind the garage. He sat down and got quiet, and I had to ask him several times what was up.
He sat there with his face in his arms and his arms over his knees. I could tell that he was wiping his eyes and trying not to tear up or cry. It was really awkward and embarrassing. I knew it was even more for him, too. I wondered if his parents were sick, if his older sister at college in Indianapolis was okay, or what was wrong. I asked that and other stuff, trying to guess. I don't remember exactly how it went when he finally let loose, but it was very much like this.
"I did something! Bad!" and he started crying for real.
I thought it had to be something really, really bad. We'd done enough bad stuff together, that if he was having this kind of reaction to whatever it was, it had to be hugely bad. I asked what a few times before he said anything. I wanted to make him feel better, so I put my hand on his shoulder and he flinched away like I had hit him. That was the first time he had ever reacted like that to me touching him and I noticed it like it was an obvious red flag.
He had me really worried. So worried, I made the ultimate threat. It seemed it was something horrible enough that parents were needed.
"If you don't tell me, man, I'm gonna go wake up my folks and make them make you tell them."
His head popped up and I knew it was really, really bad. He looked scared to death and angry at the same time. He made me promise not to tell, and he would tell me. But he made me swear, and to swear not to hate him, and to swear I wouldn't stop being his friend.
I couldn't imagine what he had done, but I agreed, meaning all of it. I didn't care if he had killed someone, I knew he had to have a great reason, and he was my best friend. I promised all of it.
He still took what seemed forever to talk again. But he did.
"You know the new guy just moved in?"
I nodded, watching his face closely, seeing he was hurt and scared and worried, and probably a lot more, too. He met my eyes sometimes, but mostly didn't. Mostly he wiped his eyes and tried not to cry even harder, or even more. I waited, hurting a lot for him.
"We did it. I don't know why or how it happened or why I let it or why he made me or anything! But we did it and I liked it and it was fun and... I'm gay!"
He meant it, it wasn't a joke, but I kept thinking that it had to be. Russell was no fag. This new guy might be, and he might have gotten Russ to do something bad with him, but Russ was not a fag. That kept going around in my head, over and over.
I knew he was waiting for me to say something. I wanted to say something, that was for sure, but I didn't know what. One thing was true, though, and I meant it, and I thought he could use hearing it, so I said it.
"You're my best friend, Russ, and if this guy got you to do something, if you're a, gay, or whatever, I guess it don't matter. Okay? We're friends. Just don't feel bad, okay?"
"You don't hate me?"
It was a stupid question. I wondered why he would even think it.
"No, dude. Never."
He did the weirdest thing then. We'd done it before, for different reasons, but not for a while. And him doing it then made it seem like a whole different thing than it had ever been before.
He threw his arms around me and hugged me really tightly.
And he cried on my shoulder.
I didn't know what to do. At all. I was scared, worried, confused, and really embarrassed.
"You really don't hate me?" he kept asking me.
I didn't know how many times I had to tell him. Finally I pushed him off me and made him meet my eyes. He looked like the day his uncle had been buried.
"Are you okay now?"
"No! I'm a homo!"
He started crying again. I kept telling him that I didn't care. I said as long as he didn't dress up like a girl or chase guys in the shower at school, that I didn't care. I made him laugh with some of the things I said he couldn't do now.
I asked if we could go back inside before we were sucked dry by mosquitoes. He said if we went back inside that there was a danger that he would suck me dry. I was shocked. He'd made stupid jokes like that before, but now I knew he had meant them. He was gay. Russ was gay. Or at least, he thought he was.
I made him promise that he wouldn't wake us up with his hand in our pants and he could still sleep in the bed with Joe and me. He laughed and said he'd do his best, but I was really cute and he would have to use all his self-control.
I didn't notice until we got in my room, but we were holding hands. He asked if he could sleep close to me, that he promised that he wouldn't slip his hand in my pajamas. He said he just wanted to be close to me so he wouldn't feel alone. I said okay and he curled up next to me, almost touching me. It was a little uncomfortable, but it was just Russ, and he was scared and worried, and that new guy had him thinking he was a homo. I got very angry at that guy, and I hardly slept. I planned such retribution and revenge.
I slept late the next morning. Joe and Russ were playing Nintendo and having a good time when I woke up. I was tired, and really glad that Russ wasn't still so sad. I was still really mad at that asshole new guy. I went and got breakfast, then changed into street clothes, and joined them for a Sunday of normal good times.
Until Joe went home and Russ wanted to talk. That was the most awkward and painful time in my life to that point. I wanted Russ to explain what had happened, but he said that didn't matter, that all that did matter was that Gabriel Sheer had opened up a new part of his life for him. Russ wasn't mad at him at all, was even glad it had happened, and said he liked Gabe, he was just scared to go back.
"If it was so fun, why are you so scared to go back there?"
He shrugged and looked like he was thinking for a while, but never gave an answer.
"Why do you think you're like him? Maybe it just felt good? Maybe you just liked what he did, was all. How do you know you're gay?"
He couldn't answer, but he thought for a long time. I asked again. I saw him come up with his answer as if it happened like a switch was flipped. He looked at me and I could tell he was close to crying again.
"Because I'm in love with you."
Then he started crying. And that broke my heart.
I told him that I loved him, too, but that didn't mean I was a turd-burglar. I said I cared about him a lot, but that didn't mean I was a rump-ranger. I said I thought he was the best guy I knew, but that didn't make me a cum-guzzler.
He laughed at every stupid joke we'd ever made up as I told them. I ran out of them, and he still kept laughing and crying at the same time. But he seemed to be in a better mood at least.
"What makes you think you're a homo?" I asked finally. "Just because some older dude got you off?"
"No, I knew before he..."
"He what? What did he do to you?"
"He... he gave me a blow-job. Then he, showed me how to. And we did it again. And... other stuff. That's why. I did it. Sex stuff. Real sex stuff. Benny, I did it. With him. It."
"He fucked me."
I gasped, shocked. Blow-jobs were almost nothing, really. I'd thought about what it would be like myself, to give one. Sort of. I had no idea how many times I'd tried imagining what getting one was like. It was always a girl in my head, giving it to me, though. Almost always.
"I loved it."
But this new guy had stuck his dick inside of Russ? Imagining Russ doing it to some other guy didn't seem so weird or impossible, but the idea of Russ being... raped?
"And it was great when I did him, too."
They'd really done that together? And Russ liked it? Russ is really a homo? And he lost his virginity before me? He's not even close to as studly as I am, I thought, almost angry. He wasn't as tall as me, not as buff, not as strong, not as good looking as me. He was soft, shortish, kind of weakly, a little extra roundness around his belly and hips, soft arms and legs, almost chubby cheeks, and mild, blue-gray eyes under weak, almost invisible brows that were lighter than his blond hair.
I actually got a little mad. I always thought I was going to be the first of us laid. I was the best looking. The girls had started saying how they liked my lips and mouth, and said I had a good body and hair. I was sure that as soon as high school started, I was going to be really popular with girls. I was sure I was going to be the one in our group that dated first, got to each base first, and got laid first.
That one of us was gay had never occurred to me. That Russ was...
"I knew a little while ago. I knew when..." He looked up and looked at me for a few seconds. "I knew when I knew I loved you this summer."
Me? Russ was in love with me? How?
"You don't love me like that. You're confused. Like they say happens. That's all."
I knew I was right.
He knew that I was wrong.
We argued the point endlessly.
The obvious dare occurred to me, and I pushed it off a few times. But it became more and more an obvious way to prove he was wrong.
"Prove it. Kiss me. If you're gay, and you love me, that should be easy to do for you."
He got white and looked scared.
I knew it. He was now faced with the obvious proof that he just liked me, and that he just liked what this new guy had gotten him to do. It was his first sex, it was probably hot and sexy and fun, but it was just sex with some dude. He would start wanting girls, he wouldn't go back to that new guy for any more sex with him, and soon he'd be chasing girls with me and the guys.
He kissed me. It was weird. His lips grabbed and moved and pulled mine. And his tongue pushed between my lips and moved all over mine. His arm went around my shoulder and he moved closer, and I got hot. Not warm, fucking hot. I got so turned on. Really, really, truly, totally, turned on. And hard.
He finally stopped and moved his head back on his neck and we looked at each other. He looked worried and scared again. And I think, shy?
And I noticed I was panting. And hard. And starting to sweat. And really, really turned on.
There was no doubt how he got Gabriel to have sex with him. One kiss and I was ready to do anything with Russ. My mind kept thinking how great it would be to keep kissing Russ and see where it went. And it kept hoping that Russ kissed me again and showed me exactly what Gabriel had done to him.
But part of me knew it was faggy, and wrong, and maybe even sick. That part got washed away when he kissed me again. He moved in really slowly, and I had plenty of time to move away, or tell him to stop.
His lips were so warm and soft, and the way they felt as they moved around over my lips was like nothing I had ever felt before. Tingles ran through every molecule of me, and chills chased them directly after, and warm currents of electrical prickles followed up.
He stopped and we looked at each other.
I managed to say, "Holy shit," between panting.
"Nice?" he asked, looking strangely, but like Russ, but different, but him, but... something.
It was all we said. He laughed and I saw him hide his hard-on with a hand. I swallowed. I had seen it before. We had played what I've since learned are normal show-and-tell type of games with each other by then. All the guys, at different times. But never totally hard. And never in a real sexual situation. Not to me, I knew, right then. But to him, it probably had been sexual, each and every time. That only made me hornier.
I reached out and moved my hand under his and felt him up. It felt a lot like my own, but it wasn't as big. Touching him like that, in a way that wasn't a goofy game, was so hot. He grinned and even laughed, then did it to me. I thought I was going to get off right then, but it somehow held off and felt so great as his hand just sat there and softly squeezed and felt out its size and scope.
Then we kissed again, and got on my bed, and kissed and giggled and laughed.
We stopped for air, sweaty and panting and red-faced. It was unbelievable!
The weird, intense feelings racing all through me were so strong and new. And wild! I loved them, and how I felt. I wanted even more, but my first thought was my parents. I looked at my bedroom door, which I had kept closed most of the time for the last few years. He noticed and I could tell he was thinking about the same thing.
"They work in the morning, and'll be asleep soon," he said, in a really cute, hopeful way.
"I can't wait!" I said, meaning it completely.
I couldn't wait. I was so hard it tingled and jerked in my pants. I tingled and shivered inside, too. We were both panting and sweating and smiling. We were laying on our sides, facing each other.
"Turn on the television, and we'll wait," he said, giggling. "If..."
"If you... really want... to?"
He didn't look at me, I remember how he just looked at his hands. I was sure I wanted to, but it was so gay. Russ was gay. Russ liked me so much he said he loved me. I liked Russ, a lot, more than all my other friends. I trusted Russ. I wanted sex with Russ. Or something.
"What if I don't like it?" I asked after the thought occurred to me.
"Then we don't."
It was an obvious answer, but how could I not like it? I had no idea what we were going to do. I asked. He said he wanted to kiss me, a lot, and touch me all over. I could touch him where I wanted to. If I liked what he did, I should tell him, so he'd know he could do that more. If I didn't like something, I should tell him that, too, so he didn't waste time with it.
He said he wanted to put me in his mouth and show me how awesome it was. That made mine jerk in my pants in anticipation. He asked if I might want to try to on him. I nodded, and tried not to laugh. He asked if he could try fingers up my butt. I wasn't sure about that. He said he'd ask later, before he tried. He said I should try whenever I felt like it. He liked it, and I shouldn't worry if I wanted to do it to him. He said he wanted me to fuck him. He said I would have to use my fingers first, and he would show me how. He asked if my folks had Vaseline or baby oil.
We waited, giggling, and embarrassed. At least, I was. Very, very embarrassed. It seemed so scary and weird. I was thinking about doing sex stuff with Russ! A guy! Russ had already! And said he liked it. He said he had done almost everything with the older guy almost next door, all week long. He said it had been fun, felt great, and wanted to do it with me. He said he was sure he loved me. He said he wasn't going back to Gabriel for anything. He said he didn't like Gabe that way. He called him Gabe. He said that Gabe was nice, and had a nice body, but he didn't like Gabe that way. He only liked me that way.
I felt as if a bus had backed into my gut. The idea that Russ was gay was just too weird, but I thought I could deal with that. But that he liked me that much was just too much to handle without nearly losing my breath. Russ loved me? Like that? How could I not have a huge catch happen when I heard him say that?
He said that he only did what he did with Gabe because Gabe wanted to. He told me how he had seen Gabe on his way over after dinner that first day, how Gabe had said hi, and talked to him, and being older, it was a neat feeling having an older guy being nice to him. Gabe had talked to him for a long time, and it got late, and Gabe asked him to come over in the morning. Russ went home, feeling great, and horny. Gabe had changed into short shorts, and Russ had seen stuff, got excited, and by the time he got home, barely got started and made a big mess.
Russ was so embarrassed, telling me the story. It was funny, sort of. It didn't make me dislike this Gabe any less, though.
Russ said it was too embarrassing to come over that night after what he had done with Gabe, so he didn't. And went over to Gabe's the next morning. He knocked, and Gabe answered in tight, white underwear. Russ said he got hard right away and tried not to let it show, so that Gabe wouldn't think he was a fag.
We both laughed, and Russ was obviously feeling better.
Gabe fixed cereal, ate it, and they played his video game. Gabe got close and make jokes and talked Russ into smoking a joint. That was a real stunner. Drugs were bad, I was sure. Now I really didn't like Gabe at all.
Gabe made jokes, and Russ liked seeing him in his underwear, sitting so close. Gabe put on a porno. Gabe got hard. Gabe reached out and pulled Russ' hand over and on top of his massive dick. Russ got so excited he almost came. Gabe asked him if he had ever had sex. Gabe asked if he liked what he felt. Gabe asked him if he could take off his pants. By noon, Gabe had sucked off Russ, and Russ had sucked off Gabe. They had rested, joked around, naked, talking, laughing. Then Gabe started up again, and slipped a finger up inside of Russ, and soon Russ was spread-eagle and Gabe was fucking him. Then they rested, Russ hard all the time, and then Gabe showed Russ how to fuck him.
They had a shower together, kissing, soaping, washing, and sucked each other off. Then Russ had left before Gabe's parents came home.
Russ said it was so hard to come to my place that night, even for the few minutes he did. He felt dirty, and like he was lying to me. He knew what he was now, for sure, and not just confused by feelings he had about me. He said he wished it had been with me, but it was Gabe. He said it felt like he was being mean to me.
He said when he got home that night, that he wasn't going to go see Gabe again. He wanted to talk to me, instead. The next day, he was coming to my house when Gabe came outside wearing only swimming trunks and waved him over. Russ said he felt like he had to go over there now that Gabe saw him. He went over thinking to talk to Gabe and tell him that he didn't want to do that with him again. Instead, Gabe got him high, got him naked, and got him again. Lots of times.
That was the day that Russ hadn't come over at all. Russ went back to Gabe's the next morning and stayed all day, getting high and having sex, then went home for dinner and a nap, than to my place at night, sometimes. He did that the rest of the week. He said it was weird, and he didn't like it. He liked the sex, not the pot so much, and not the feeling like he was doing something wrong.
So, last night, it was too much to bear, and he had to wake me up and tell me.
I said I was glad he did. I asked if he felt better. He said he did and I could see that he did. He smiled like normal again.
The whole time he talked, his fingers traced over my face and neck and through my hair and even my shoulder and arm. It tickled a lot, and felt really great. I started copying that on him, and it even felt great to do, too.
Over an hour ago, when we first stopped kissing and started talking, close and gently touching, I had seen no way I could wait, all bound up and hard and ready to explode. But now, I felt soft inside, even though it was still mostly hard. I felt calm, even though I was raging for sex inside. I was excited, but satisfied with laying there face-to-face and just talking. At least, for right then. It was a very weird sensation, or bunch of sensations.
We kept talking, and my parents said goodnight. We giggled, trying not to be heard. My room was in the corner of the house at the end of the hall, and my parents' room was across and down the hall. We could make some noise, but not a lot. I had gotten good at making no noise when I jerked it in the shower, but I worried if he could be quiet. He had the whole house alone with Gabriel and they didn't have to worry about noise.
I asked, and he got really red, and said he could be quiet. He said we would make the bed squeak, though. We would have to use the floor.
We waited for my folks to fall asleep, raided the fridge for soda and snacks, watched Johnny Carson, and waited. And waited. By midnight, I was sure they were asleep, and Russ was starting to grin at me in his strange new way.
I almost asked if he was ready, but I didn't know how to ask such a question. He scooted over next to me as we lay on the bed on our stomachs, watching television. I laughed. He scooted closer, laughing, and put his arm out, nearly over my shoulder. The tingles exploded through me when his arm did finally come to rest over me. I couldn't stop looking at his face, and his huge grin, and wondering what we were going to do.
His face came closer and I knew he was wanting to kiss. I angled my head and let him kiss me. It was suddenly like hours had passed. We were all twisted together, arms and legs, and faces. We had to breathe, but we spent as little time with our lips not touching as we could. I was not only on fire inside, I was being electrocuted, too. I had no idea that such feeling existed. Of all the new and strange things that had happened to me since puberty had started, this was the best, and made all the bad things worth it.
We rolled around, sometimes one of us on top, sometimes both on our sides. Sometimes our legs around the other, sometimes our legs so twisted I wasn't sure where either of ours were.
He had this cute thing he did sometimes, sort of inside his throat. It was sort of a moan, or a squeak, or something. It was totally cute. I had never heard him make it before. I loved it. I loved that I was making him make it.
We ground together like that forever. His erection would push up against mine, and mine would push up against his, and our hips would grind and move, and it was beyond great! We panted, kissing, learning how to move our lips and tongues together. Our hands wrapped around each other would touch and tickle sometimes, but mostly held each other's head, pressing our lips tightly together.
I felt myself getting so close to cumming, and I didn't care. It felt so great! It was taking so long! He made that cute squeak more often, and I groaned like a dog with a bone. We pushed ourselves into each other, thrusting and grinding, shivering, grunting.
"Oh-my-God," he said a lot, starting to get louder, then he held his breath, and said, "I'm gonna shoot!"
I felt his body shuddering like mad, and his breath stop, and he tightened around me like a constrictor snake about to have a meal. I wanted to warn him I was there, too, but it was so perfect that he was, and we were, together. I could actually feel his erection dance in his pants, right up next to mine! That felt like nothing before, and simply incredible! To have his most private part pressed so tightly to mine, both moving all on their own, against each other. They moved like living creatures as our bodies tensed and our breath stopped. His jerked in a regular way, again and again, and I knew he was filling his underwear with his stuff, and that made my dick puff up like a birthday whistle and start pumping too.
We just kept kissing, not moving any other muscles, clenched tightly together.
After the most powerful, incredible, slowest, most intense orgasm of my life, and the first one with someone else, I started breathing again. So did he. Then we started giggling.
I know I'm supposed to write how we went on and stripped each other naked, then licked each other clean, then used the Vaseline and fucked each other in turns, and then later, professed our undying love for each other, arm-in-arm, both of us realizing that were were gay and in love with each other.
But that wasn't what happened, and that's not the way things ended.
I was sure he was happy, and I was, too, but I was confused, too. And worried. And scared. I wasn't supposed to feel these kinds of things for a boy. I didn't care very much if a friend did, I had found out last night when he had told me that he was gay, but it wasn't supposed to be that way to me.
It was wrong that I liked what we had done. It was wrong that I liked how it had felt. It was really wrong that I wanted to do it again, and other things, and everything that he had done with Gabriel. That was all wrong.
I rolled away and sat up, and Russ knew something was wrong. He asked me what. I told him that I wasn't gay. I told him I liked him as my friend. I told him what we just had done was wrong. I told him we were never going to do it again. I told him if he wanted to do it with Gabriel, he could, all he wanted, but I didn't want to know about it at all. I swore I'd never tell anyone about him and Gabriel, and I made him swear that he would never tell anyone about what we had just done.
He was crying, and it was really hard to talk to him and not cry too. But he was a real trooper. I must have hurt him so much. I sort of hated doing it, hated myself for saying those things, and hated the whole situation. And I hated Gabriel.
He begged me not to hate him. I swore I never would, no matter what. I said he was my best friend, and I wanted him to stay my best friend, but I didn't like him 'that way', and that he had to find someone else to be 'that way' with.
He asked if he had to leave. It was way too late for that. I said no. I went into the bathroom and took clean pajamas with me. I got cleaned up, feeling sick inside. I still wanted to do stuff with him. That was so wrong. I went back into my room and he asked if he could borrow some pajama bottoms. I had a new pair and lent them to him.
When he came out wearing my pajamas, for the first time, I noticed how he looked. Not like always, not if he was messy or neat, seemed happy or sad, or had my pajamas on backwards or something. For the first time I noticed his gentle features, how his almost blue but mostly gray eyes were soulful and filled with whatever emotion he was feeling, how his lips were so deeply red and shaped almost like perfect lips were in drawings or cartoons, how his ever-so-slightly-longish blond hair was mostly straight but curled just a bit at the ends, and how he moved so smoothly and gracefully. I noticed he wasn't as slim as me, but wasn't in any way plump, let alone fat. He had soft, rounded areas at his belly and hips, and his nipples were pink and slightly puffy. He had long legs, and the thin pajamas didn't hide his butt, or how he dangled between his legs when the light was behind him.
I apologized for not having sex with him. He laughed and said what we had done was even better than what he had done with Gabe, mostly because it was with me.
I felt really awkward, trying to find a place to lay down on my own bed, with him there, now. I didn't want to do anything different and make things seem different, but now they were. Unfixably different. Forever.
I heard him sniffling, and my eyes got all wet, too. He was my best friend, had been for so long, and the only best friend I'd ever had. I didn't want to lose him, or that. But it was all different, and I felt it all slipping away.
He asked if he could ask me a favor. I could tell he was crying from his voice. I said he could ask anything. After a long pause, which made me worry what he wanted to ask, he scooted just a little closer, and asked if I would put my arm over him, like I used to when we camped out in back and it was chilly.
I knew exactly what he meant. I knew exactly why he wanted me to. It wasn't that he was cold, or that he wanted to relive times from a few months ago.
But I wanted that feeling, of what we had before I knew what he was. And before I knew what he felt about me. So I rolled over, and waited while he rolled away from me, and I put my arm over his shoulder and tucked up behind him, spooning. I remembered our jokes about being fags the last few times we had kept warm like that in my sleeping bag out back in my little tent. I knew he had thought things about me even back then.
I wasn't against him nearly like I had been those times. My front didn't touch him anywhere, and only my arm touched him at all, and that was barely resting on his arm, nothing like over and around him like before. It wasn't anything like it had been. I felt his crying for the few minutes before he whimpered, "Okay, forget it," and scooted away.
I felt so bad. I was no friend to him. He deserved someone who could be what he wanted. Not me, who could barely touch him now.
I had lost my best friend. He hadn't done anything to deserve it. He was just who he was. I liked him, still. I was sure. I tried imagining life without him. It was a stupid exercise. There was still Bill, Terry, Joe, and the other guys at school, but, Russ was half of my life. And I knew it. And I needed that half, or I'd be empty and miserable.
But he was gay. He loved me. I kept hearing him say that, and I kept feeling that kind of bounce inside my guts when he said it. I was wiping my eyes, trying not to cry as loud as he was. I stared at his silhouette against the light coming in the window. I could see him shaking, and I could feel it in the bed, and I could hear it in his breathing. It was making me miserable. It just fucking hurt.
I had to. It was the only thing to do. If I liked him at all, I had to be some kind of friend to him. I liked him, a lot. He was Russell. He was the Russmeister, even if we hadn't used those silly nicknames in years. He was the guy I would kill to protect. I knew he would kill anyone to protect me. I knew my biggest secrets would always be safe with him, and I would never tell any of his, and certainly not these new ones.
I scooted forward and tucked up against him, fully, and put my arm over and around him, and moved so that my face was tucked up behind the back of his neck. He smelled like sweat and Russ. My stomach and chest was against his warm, slightly-damp back. My lap was tucked up right against his butt. My legs were up against his. I felt his breaths and his shivering, and I felt how hard it was for him to talk, but he forced himself to.
"Thank you, Bear. I'm sorry if I made things get weird between us."
I thought for a while, not wanting to say anything wrong.
"Man, Russ, I only care that you're my best friend, and I don't think I'd like it if you wasn't. So don't worry. If it gets weird, I'll deal with it. Like this. I know you, liked it that way, now, when we did it in the tent. I didn't then. Didn't even think about that kind of stuff. But, it'll be okay."
"Just stay my friend?"
"Fuck yes. Just, no fuck."
I giggled into the back of his neck. He had stopped crying, and now even giggled a little. That made me feel very much better.
I felt us both relaxing now. His breathing was slowing and normal, now that he wasn't crying any longer. His fingers tickled the hairs on my forearm that rested over his chest. When we had curled up like that in my sleeping bag, I had kept my right arm behind him, between us, bent upward, often with that hand under my head. Now I wanted that arm around him too. I began wriggling it between him and the bed and he raised upward so that it was easier, then captured that hand and held onto it. No one had ever kissed the palm of my hand before, but I knew that was what he was doing. It tickled insanely and made me laugh. I started getting even by blowing over the short hairs at the back of his neck. He snickered, and that felt nice against my body and in my arms.
I started thinking about what we had done, and how I had felt about it while it happened, and how I felt about it now. It had felt great, easily the best thing I had ever felt. I wondered just how much better it was for real. It had to be even better, on purpose, naked, with mouths and hands.
I started getting hard. It was going to end up pushing against his butt, and we were wearing thin, summer pajamas. I wondered what he would think when he noticed. I wasn't willing to back away from him. He needed someone to hold him, I just knew that instinctively, and I liked how it felt to hold him.
"I'm sorry, it just happened," I said.
He sounded nearly asleep. Then he giggled.
"You can stop holding me like this now, anyway. It was really nice. Thanks."
He let go of my hand and scooted away, out of my arms.
"Does it make you, worry? Or uncomfortable? I don't mean it to mean anything, I was just..." I giggled, "thinking about what we did. And, how it was, really pretty nice. Is all. It don't mean anything. If you don't mind it, I'd rather keep holding you, Russ. I... I really like it, now."
"You can do that all you want, hard or not. Just don't hate me because I like it in a different way."
I wondered if we really liked it in a different way than each other, or not.
"Forget me hating you! Would you? Please? I won't! Ever!"
I scooted up to him, tightly, and wrapped my arms around him. I found his hands with one of mine, held onto it, and wiggled up against him. My boner slipped between his cheeks and was sort of out of the way there. My other hand found his shoulder, and it was nice to hold onto, making my hug of him tight and cozy. It was hot in my room, and we were going to end up sweaty and stuck together. I didn't give a fuck.
I wasn't going to let anything change. Especially not between Russ and me. Not in a bad way. If Russ had changed, then I'd change, too. But I didn't think I could be gay. Not even to stay friends with Russ. But I realized that Russ hadn't changed, just that what I knew about him had. He might have changed into being gay, but that had already happened. What changed tonight was that he had told me. Now I knew.
And I wasn't going to let that matter. Or that he was crying again.
"Now why are you crying?"
It took him a few seconds to talk. I tickled the skin on his shoulder and the hairs on the back of his neck.
"You're just making me... like, you, even more."
"Is that bad?"
He didn't say anything. He rolled over in my arms and faced me. It was sort of awkward. It was too dark to see his face clearly.
"You can really be okay that I like you? A lot? Even... be cool that I'm, sure I'm... that I'm in love with you?"
"Dude, Russ, what if I'm cool with it? What if I think I, might, want to, find out how much I'm willing to do? With you?"
"You said it was wrong."
"I thought it was. It was like training or something."
"You said you aren't gay."
"I'm not saying I am. I'm saying, maybe, I want to, I don't know, experiment?"
"You said you didn't want to do it again."
"I said I didn't ever want to ride down Miller Street hill again right after we did the first time."
"You saying you was just scared?"
"I'm saying, what happened was... cool. It felt... great! I... I'd like to try out some other stuff. I'm saying, if it's good enough for my best friend, then it's good enough for me to try out. Especially with him. You."
He giggled again. His hand searched for mine, found it, and held it to his lips. We snuggled tightly together, face to face. I could tell he was crying again. I had never seen him cry so often. It really bothered me. That it bothered me so much, convinced me that I was more like him than I was different.
What also convinced me, was how I felt when I thought of life without him, or life with less of him, or how I felt when I thought I had hurt his feelings, or how angry it made me that he was worried that I wouldn't like him as my best friend anymore, or that I was even capable of hating him.
But what mostly convinced me, was how I felt with him so close to me.
"But you don't love me? Like... I do? You?"
"I don't have a fucking clue. I know you're my best friend, ever, and I care more for you than anybody else. I know that. I don't know anything else. Do I have to?"
"I don't know. Maybe. If you don't, then, is it like, wrong?"
"You love Gabriel?"
"You did it with him."
"I mean, this is you. If you, don't, you know, aren't the same, then..."
"Then we're just friends having sex. I can handle that, I guess!" I said with a laugh.
It was every boy's dream! We'd all joked about finding a girl who would have sex without having to be in, gulp, love. Sex without the girl saying she loved you, and all the entanglements. What could be better?
Just, it was Russ, not a girl. And would it be the same to a gay guy if the friend wasn't gay?
I wondered, and I thought, and I noticed that his face was close to mine. I could tell he was going to kiss me, or wanted to. I wished I could see his face so I could tell what he was thinking and feeling.
I wondered if I wanted to kiss him again. He was my best friend. He was Russell. We had, before, and it had been awesome! But it had been a surprise. But it had felt really awesome! I wondered what it would feel like now, knowing it was coming, knowing all I knew now. Knowing it was Russ. Knowing all of that.
I stretched out and felt his lips on mine again. It was so nice! My heart raced faster, my skin went all electric, my guts twisted and tightened, and it was so great again! And our arms went around each other, and we pulled ourselves tightly to one another, kissing and hugging and wriggling.
I didn't care if he was gay. I didn't know if I was or not. I didn't care if I was or not. I only cared that I cared about Russ, and I loved how he made me feel, and I loved knowing I made him feel something like how he made me feel.
What else did we need?
This is really how it went. Ray did a really great job of making it a real story. He added little details and conversation and things and made it way better than the simple truth and way better than I could have in years trying.
Russ was my best friend when a new guy moved in on our block the summer before high school. Russ ended up messing around with Gabriel and figuring out he was gay. Russ was acting weird for a week at least and one night when he spent the night, he told me what he did with Gabriel. He said he was gay and that made him a bad person.
It was just like Ray wrote it. I even remembered little things as I told Ray about that night. I reacted the way you read. I wasn't upset or freaked out. I was just sad and worried about Russ. He was hurt and that had to stop happening. I hated Gabriel for making Russ hurt.
I was a kid and that was the way things fell together in my head. Gabriel was some kind of monster who had hurt my best friend and now my best friend was hurting and thinking he was now something different or a bad person. I was so angry with that new guy!
Later I sort of figured that I was also so mad at Gabriel because he had gone with Russ where I hadn't yet known that I wanted to go with him. I was jealous that night as Russ told me but I didn't know that.
I did take Russ back to my room and wanted him to stay the rest of the night. Joe had no idea the next day. The next night we did dry-hump to a finish at the same time. I felt him cumming and that made me.
The rest of the night was a lot like Ray's story. I got scared and confused and worried and upset. What if my parents had heard? What if they found out?
At times I wondered if I was going to lose my best friend. Other times I could barely stand thinking about what we had done to each other. Then I'd think how it was so much fun. Then I'd think how wrong it was.
What if the guys found out? What if this happened or that happened?
But he asked me to put my arm on him like in the tent in my sleeping bag. I didn't understand why, but I was willing so he'd stop crying and maybe feel better. It took no time for me to feel better about doing that and figure out why he had liked it in the tent earlier in the year.
We started really talking, then we cuddled up and started kissing. We dry-humped in pajamas this time. His dick jumping in those pajamas against mine through my pajamas finished me off. We felt the sticky wetness soaking through the pajamas and didn't care and let it. We were stuck together the next morning.
But that was my second time and isn't part of this story. I just wanted you to know we did it again that night. We kept doing it off and on for our first two years in high school. I dated a couple of girls. I wasn't totally gay. Still am not. I prefer women, but the right guy can turn me on.
BTW, Joe turned out to be the big surprise. Turned out he was doing stuff with Gabriel the whole time Gabriel went to our high school. That was two years, then Gabriel went to college and I hardly ever saw him again. Little, quiet, shy Joe was gay, and neither me or Russ guessed or even thought about it until we asked why he was gone all day the first day Gabriel was home from college.
I only asked to be a joke, but Russ asked really serious, and Joe got really red.
Russ and Joe helped each other out a lot after that but I never got into that with them. I liked Russ so much and he was more than enough and by then I was into girls and was popular and going out on dates all the time. I liked Joe too but not that way at all. Sometimes I was in the way and that hurt and bothered me. But I had girls and sports and was sort of popular so I had stuff to do while they got together and made each other really happy for the last two years of high school.
So there's the whole story and the real story. The two years spent doing things with Russ were part of the best years of my entire life and I'm glad every day that they happened. I'm glad Gabriel seduced every boy in the neighborhood and especially Russ. Maybe I wish Russ had the time to seduce me without Gabriel tricking him first, but that probably never would have happened.
So I'm glad Gabriel did that and that Russ had the balls to tell me he was gay and liked me and that I had the guts to tell him it didn't matter that he was gay and that all that mattered was we stayed friends.
I'm glad Russ and Joe found each other and that we all stayed friends even past high school.
Most of all I'm just glad I was friends with Russ and got to know him that way. I'm very glad that I was friends with him and Joe and Bill and Terry. I've never had friends like them again and I know I never will.
Thanks to Bill for editing.