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I had been married for a couple of years. She was pregnant and we went from fucking throughout the day to an uncomfortable handjob once a week. It was hell. An uncomfortable hell. I had to suffer months of this and eventually I started getting involved in these porn email group chats where a user could post porn images. Mostly the straight stuff. But eventually I became exposed to gay porn. 

When I was younger I had grabbed a couple of stiff dicks and guys were always hitting on me. With this new online activity it soon became clear that it wouldn’t be difficult to get my hands on some anonymous cock and no one would be the wiser. The thought itself made my mouth water. I started hanging out in local gay chat rooms. Within a couple of days an older guy asked me to meet him at a nearby gas station restroom that included a gloryhole in the bathroom. I sat down in the stall and soon enough someone got into the next stall. 

Before long his cock was protruding from the gloryhole. I nearly leaped for his cock, I was so sexually frustrated. It was so hard and hot an throbbing. The head of his cock was so inviting. Soon, I had the tip in my mouth and was sliding up and down on his shaft. He pressed forward as my mouth started working his cock. I had always been very oral and I guess the man expected for me to be timid since I came across like it would be my first gay experience. 

But the ache for another man’s cock had always been there. Before long he was fucking my face and I was dying for him to fill my mouth with his cum. I probably had a couple of inches more cock than he had but I didn’t care. I wanted the humiliation of my mouth filled with his cum. There was so much satisfaction in making another man cum with my mouth. Before long he gave me my greatest desire at the moment. I cleaned his cock and was wiping the cum off the side of my face when he reached out with his fingers and started tugging at my erect penis. Before long he was sucking my cock. The whole experience was addictive. Within a week I was jacking off at the video arcade to gay porn hoping for another encounter.  

I stand up and brush my shirt off. The condo smells like the ocean, and none of us has yet to shower. Matthew looks back at me and flicks his eyes towards the corner of the room. I comply by walking there and making sure that I focus on my surroundings. Casey walks over and sits on the couch where I had just been to put another body between Jake and me.

Matthew opens the door for Jake, who saunters in. Jake is wearing a baggy hoodie and shorts, but his body still fills it out generously at the top.

“So, how are you gonna explain the cancellation?” Jake interrogates Matthew.

“I already have.” Matthew has become calm again.

“And, what did you say?”

“I told them that Cameron was not quite ready and that we would rather introduce him to a few guys at a time so that we do not overwhelm him.”

Jake sets his jaw, looking to press further, but realising he cannot. He goes ahead anyway: “And Cameron? How do you think that he is going to become a part of this frat without my approval?”

I can’t tell if I would be happy or not with this revelation.

“You do not have the final say,” Matthew casually notes.

“I have a big part in it.” Jake switches to the defensive.

“I think you’re overestimating your importance again,” Matthew scoffs. “We don’t get along. Why would you give me a reason to capitalise off of that?”

Jake’s eyes narrow, and he approaches Matthew. “You really seem to be the one overstepping.”

“Hey, now,” Casey interjects. “Calm down, you two.”

Jake side-eyes Casey, and then looks at me. He walks over to me, and Casey doesn’t stop his advance. Jake then leans against the thick window sill and puts his arm around my back. I shudder.

Matthew furrows his eyebrows, and a frown forms on his face.

“Remember who owns you now,” Jake threatens.

Casey’s phone rings and his expression mellows out. “I gotta take this,” he announces. “I gotta go.”

Matthew stares at Jake while he rubs my shoulder. Casey steps out of the room, and almost immediately Jake lets go of me. I let out an audible sigh, but Matthew does not let his guard down. Matthew’s body is tense, and his breathing hikes as Jake approaches him.

Jake firmly grasps Matthew’s neck, and his eyes widen as he begins to struggle. Matthew manages enough strength to rip Jake’s hand off him and create some distance. Matthew comes off the wall, ready to be aggressive towards Jake, but he finds himself locked and straining against Jake’s body. Jake manoeuvres himself around and behind Matthew, grabbing his massive body. Matthew grunts as Jake forces him down to his knees. Matthew’s downset eyes meet mine while Jake overpowers him. Jake pushes him down onto the hard, tile floor, and Matthew’s face hits the ground only about a metre in front of me.

Shocked by how quickly Jake pinned Matthew’s gigantic body, I don’t act when I know I should. Jake puts his knee down on Matthew’s neck while Matthew struggles to get any kind of leeway with Jake.

“You know I’m stronger than you.” Jake begins taunting Matthew. “Now that Casey is gone, I don’t have to worry about making that known.”

Matthew struggles against Jake, but cannot get loose. I finally get out of my head enough to help Matthew. When I begin to act, Matthew stops me.

”Don’t,” Matthew practically begs.

Jake grins. I can tell that Matthew cannot breathe. I take a moment to contemplate before throwing my body at Jake, knocking him off of Matthew’s neck. Matthew struggles to catch his breath and stays spread on the ground. Jake quickly reorients himself. He easily overpowers me and slams me into the carpeted floor of the bedroom, just past the doorway. I let out a loud grunt since I get winded from the impact. Using my shock and subsequent slowness to his advantage, Jake straddles my body to keep me down. Jake peels off his hoodie and throws it onto the bed behind me. I look over at Matthew slowly getting up. Jake leans into me and I can feel his bulge throbbing against my lower abs.

“Don’t fucking test me,” Jake threatens.

I tremble and flinch as he spits in my face. Jake stands up off of me and turns back to Matthew, who has begun to stand. Jake steps down on his back, which folds him back down to the floor. He groans in pain while Jake asserts himself over both of us.

I rub the back of my head and try to gain composure. Jake steps down on Matthew’s back, keeping the giant in submission. Casey walks in the door and begins to say something before he takes the situation in its entirety.

“Jake, get off of him,” Casey demands.

Jake takes his foot off of Matthew, and Casey comes to my aid. He lifts me with his strong arm. Matthew pushes himself up onto his knees, but he winces severely.

Casey takes a knee next to him and rubs his back. “You okay, big guy?” He mumbles.

“Yeah,” he mutters. Casey helps him back up to his feet slowly, and Matthew tends to his throat by rubbing it for a while. He winces again and gives Jake a mean look.

“What the fuck, Jake?” Casey interrogates. “I get that you don’t like them but you gotta stop acting like a fucking child.”

Jake shrugs. “Maybe you should pick some better guys to join our frat instead of degrading it with guys you think are cute.”

Jake’s dominance is undeniable, especially since he takes it out in a traditional patriarchal demonstration of physical abuse.

“They need to know their place.” Jake defends his actions. “Mattie hasn’t accepted his place under me in the three years he’s been with us.”

Matthew huffs and approaches Jake, ready to test him again.

“And Cameron,” Jake turns to me, “you’re pathetic. You know you don’t compare to any of us, and you need to learn that this isn’t gonna be like Boston.”

“No fucking shit,” my tone matches Casey’s. “You’re the one that wanted to meet me, and you clearly are just here to cause problems.”

Jake cocks his head and laughs in disbelief. “Do you wanna end up like you were just a few minutes ago?”

Casey walks up to him and presses his chest to Jake’s. “Come on, dude. You gotta stop it.” Casey runs his hands through Jake’s chest hair. “Just leave it, for now, babe.”

I can barely hear them.

“You two are dating?” I ask, shocked.

Matthew looks down at me and rubs my shoulder. Casey mumbles something to Jake, and Jake rests his head on Casey’s shoulder, almost melding into him. He kisses Casey’s neck gently before Casey breaks contact to turn back to me.

“So you’re jealous?” A cocky grin forms on my face.

“Back down,” Casey raises his voice. Jake rests his hand on Casey’s shoulder and moves him gently to the side.

“What did you say?” Jake asks. He gets into my face, and I try to hide my fear. My grin fades, I crease my forehead.

“Come on, Jake,” Matthew pipes up. “This won’t get anywhere.”

Jake raises an arm at Matthew, and Matthew flinches. Jake lets out a quiet laugh and switches his focus back to me. “Now, Cameron. Tell me why the fuck I would be jealous of a boy like you?”

I lean back further into the window, my back pressing against the blinds. Casey grabs Jake’s right hand and pulls him back.

“Get out,” Matthew insists.

“Let’s go have a chat.” Casey directs a half-hearted smile at us and drops his head as he follows Jake out of the condo.

Matthew lets out a long sigh of relief and kicks his shoes off. “I’ve had to deal with this for the last three years. He’s always been stronger than me,” Matthew admits. He walks into the kitchen and fills a cup with water. He takes a long sip and then continues. “He didn’t like me because I was Casey’s first pick, and I still don’t even know if he felt threatened by me, or just didn’t like that Casey spent a lot of time with me while they were talking.

“Now that they’re dating, Jake has exclusive rights to Casey’s attention in any type of way.” Matthew chugs the rest of his water and refills the cup. “Jake doesn’t treat other guys like he has you and me. Yeah, I mean— I guess he can be aggressive a lot, but he’s never been straight up— just abusive. We’ve had our fights, but he’s never put his knee down on my neck like that. And— well, he’s most definitely never tried to drown a guy he met that was to become a part of our frat, not even me.”

I slouch down into the couch and Matthew sits to my left. “How’s your neck?” I ask him.

“It’s fine, it’s just gonna be sore.”

I rest my head on Matthew’s shoulder. He rubs my back and pulls me in closer.

“I’m sorry this is what you have to deal with,” Matthew frowns. He reaches to the side table and clicks on the lamp. Matthew leans back into my body, and this time he kisses me on the forehead. He grabs my jaw gently and lifts my face to his. His lips slowly lock with mine, and Matthew readjusts his body to better hold me. Matthew pushes me down into the couch and climbs on top of me. He pulls my shirt off of my body and he slowly kisses his way down my body.

I try to stifle my moans, but I can’t hold them. He smiles and slides the waistband of my bathing suit down. My semi-hard dick slaps my stomach.

“Someone’s excited.” Matthew begins to jerk me off, and I begin leaking precum almost immediately.

I blush and guide Matthew’s head further down my muscular body with my right hand. He looks into my eyes as he wraps his lips around my cock. I lean my head back and moan, squirming in pleasure. Matthew steadies my thighs as he licks up my shaft, collecting a bead of precum coming from my throbbing dick. Matthew moves back down and gently puts my balls in his mouth, cleaning the salt off of them.

“Not gonna let me rinse the sand off, first?” I tease.

He climbs back up on top of me and grinds his growing bulge against my taint. Matthew rolls off of me and easily scoops me up in his arms. He takes me to the bathroom through a door on the right side of the kitchen. He sets me down on the countertop, shuts the second door to the bedroom, and flicks the light on. I drape my arms over his shoulders when he walks back over to me. I bite Matthew’s neck gently, leaving a small mark. His stubble pokes my cheek, but I continue down to his neck and collarbone.

“Mmph, keep going,” he whispers. He slowly begins to press further into my body, spreading my legs apart and gently positioning them around his thick butt. He melds into me, letting me support some of his weight while I take in his scent.

Matthew backs away from me to my displeasure. A drop of precum falls onto the counter. Matthew turns on the shower and waits for the water to warm up before returning to me. Matthew peels his shirt off. A thin coat of blond hair covers his entire body. It thickens out a little bit around his belly button and down below his v-line. Matthew steps out of his shorts and slowly peels off his damp briefs. Matthew’s massive, slightly engorged dick falls out. My eyes widen as he grabs and strokes it a few times to begin getting it hard again. His balls hang low and heavy. He has a trimmed, light brown bush that fills out the base of his shaft. He looks at me and smiles. My mouth is opened slightly in amazement at the size.

“How big?” I can’t help but ask.

“Seven soft,” he states with pride. “Eleven and a half when hard.”

“No fucking way,” I shake my head. “Nah, goddamn.”

He just laughs again and presses his dick against my taint again. He pulls me in for another kiss. I can feel him getting hard again, and I keep catching myself staring at his beautifully sculpted piece of meat.

Matthew can’t stop smiling, and his eyes show more emotion than the rest of him does. He looks down and slaps his dick over mine. He easily outsizes me, and it continues to grow. He slowly jerks it with his right hand and takes my cock in his other. I moan quietly while he massages my tip with his thumb, swirling my precum around my head to lube it up. Matthew puts his thumb in my mouth and I lick my precum off of it. Matthew lifts me off of the counter and guides me to the shower.

“Too hot?” He asks, standing behind me. He rests his chin on my head and rubs the side of my arms. He closes his eyes and lets the hot water wash over him for a few minutes before grabbing the soap. He grabs a washcloth as well and begins to lather my body. He begins at my neck, and slowly moves down my back, gently scrubbing my back with a washcloth. He gets down on his knees and continues working on my back. He slaps my muscular ass and spreads my cheeks. He leans in and kisses my right butt cheek before slowly running his hands down my legs. I close my eyes and wait for his next move, aroused and curious about what his intentions are with me. I feel his face pressed into my ass. Matthew slowly begins to tongue at my hole, and I immediately let out a moan. I use the shower wall to support myself while the new sensation overcomes me.

“Fuck, Cameron,” Matthew moans. “You taste so good.”

I bend over more so that Matthew has better access to my hole, and he starts to get me wet. His jaw flexes while he focuses on my hole.

I can’t hold in my pleasure. “Fuck,” I exhale sharply, “oh, fuck Matt.” I arch my back into him and shift some of my weight as he pulls me back further onto his face.

Matthew stands up. Although disappointed, I don’t complain. He rubs his massive dick against my hole and pulls me into his arms.

“I can’t take that,” I say, honestly.

“I wouldn’t expect you to—“ he trails off. “Yet.”

I pull away from him gently, beginning to reciprocate what he has done for me. I grab the washcloth from his hand, add more soap, then begin rubbing it gently on his chest. His broad pecs rise and fall slowly with each breath. I pinch his left nipple pretty hard, and he grunts.

“Hey!” He blusters, “they’re sensitive.”

“Turn around,” I reply.

I scratch Matthew’s back and lather it with a generous amount of soap. It’s pretty red from the summer sun, and there’s also a bruise forming where Jake had tried to use him as a stepping stool. I poke at it gently before continuing. He has a beautifully round ass covered in a coat of light brown fuzz. Thicker than what’s on his chest, but it’s not bushy. I grab his ass and squeeze it hard. In response, Matthew huffs slightly.

I slowly spread his ass as he did mine, revealing a perfect, tight pink hole surrounded by fuzz. I take a few moments to inhale his body, undeniably manly, before delving into his still somewhat salty hole.

“Oh, shit!” Matthew exclaims, seemingly surprised when my tongue first makes contact.

I press my tongue around his tight hole and listen to the granted reaction. He puts his hands on the back of my head and pushes me deep into his ass. His bubble butt feels suffocating, but it tastes so much better. I hold securely onto his thighs with one arm, but leave the other hand free to gently play with his bull balls. I feel his cock throb, and the warm water helps his balls hang even lower than they were before.

Matthew turns around, and I’m faced with probably the biggest dick I’ve ever seen in my life. He grins at me and slaps it down on my face. The weight of it adds to my uncertainty about the size.

“Open your mouth,” he says. His voice is commanding, but still gentle.

Matthew rests the swollen tip against my lips and slowly pushes the head inside. It feels like my jaw is going to unhinge, but he takes it slow enough for me to accommodate what I can. He puts one of his massive hands on the back of my head and gently guides me down on it, thrusting slightly deeper every time. I gag loudly, and he pulls out to give me time to get some air.

“Only halfway there,” he smiles.

“I can’t fit it all,” I remark.

“You’ll get used to it,” he coos.

He pushes his dick back in my mouth, and slowly tries to push further, but meets resistance. I gag again, but this time Matthew holds my head firm on his dick while I try to pull away. I look up at him and his eyes are determined. My body flexes while I try to pull off, but Matthew easily overpowers me. I do my best to relax my throat, but his cock stretches my mouth to its limit. He finally pulls out and I breathe heavily, putting my hands down on the shower floor for support.

“I’m not ready,” I complain.

Matthew nods and lifts me back up to my feet. He washes his legs and feet and then does mine. Matthew shuts off the water and reaches for a towel that hangs on a metal bar over the toilet. He dries himself, but I help him with his back and hair. He opens the shower curtain and steps out, he somewhat disappears into the steam that has accumulated in the room. I dry off quickly and hop out to follow him into the main room where Jake and Casey are talking.

Jake looks me up and down before he looks me in the eyes. “Have fun?” He teases us.

“Yeah, we did.” Matthew grabs my shoulder and pulls me into his side. He smiles at Jake, although it’s superficial. He lets go of me and grabs his bag. He pulls out a fresh change of clothes and slips into them quickly. Matthew walks into the kitchen and I sit at the glass table across from the door, situated against a wall that contains the bedroom

“There are drinks in the fridge,” Casey says.

Matt changes course, heading for the fridge. He grabs a beer and throws it up in the air, then he catches it and secures it in his large hands.

“I’ll be out here looking at the lights,” Matt says, opening the door to the balcony. The door slams behind him.

I pull out my phone and scroll through my messages. There are a few from my mom. I type off a quick reply to let her know that I’m doing alright, even at the eventual risk of her being right about how I should not have come here. My mind races around my experience with Jake, but I know that Matthew will try to protect me as best as possible. After seeing what happened today, though, I’m not sure that his vows of protection are going to help much. I look up from my phone, and Jake is staring right at me. Casey’s eyes fix on the television. I try to ignore Jake, but his eyes pierce through my psyche. His eyes soften, and then he looks back over to Casey. He leans his head against Casey’s shoulder and closes his eyes. His body relaxes. I can’t help but look at his beautiful body, and sculpted face. It’s cliché, but he really could be a Greek god with his killer jaw and cheekbone combination. Everything about him is domineering, but Casey does a damn good job at controlling that. Casey whispers something into Jake’s left ear, and then he proceeds to go outside on the Balcony with Matt. The wind creates a slight whistle as the door shuts behind him.

Jake’s eyes soften, he sighs, he stands. He approaches me. I tense up instinctually. He offers me his hand, but I shake my head.

“Up,” he ushers, albeit his voice is calm.

I reject his hand again and stand instead according to my own will.

“Grab your wallet and key card, we’re going for a walk.”

Does he know how to be nicer? Or is this all I’m getting from him? It beats being drowned.

Jake doesn’t bother for a shirt. To be honest, though, I don’t mind the decision to go without one either. I follow him out of the condo, and he walks briskly down the hall. It’s musty and weirdly lit. I put my mask on out of concerns of— well, Florida, and because it blocks the smell. We get into the elevator and Jake gives me a weird look.

“Take that shit off,” he demands. “You shouldn’t be worried about a cold.”

What he just said gets under my skin more than his other remarks, out of its pure ignorance. “I will when we get outside.”

Jake rolls his eyes. “No one cares about the virus here.”

“One out of the two of us does.” My comment is risky, but he just rolls his eyes again and doesn’t reply.

We walk out of the building, and I remove my mask. The humid air hits my face. There’s a strong breeze coming in from the ocean about thirty miles to our east. The feeling of the wind against my face is calming, which lowers the nervousness that has built up around Jake. Jake and I walk together on the sidewalk next to the condo. A siren blares in the distance, adding to the unsettling weather. I look up at our balcony and see Matthew and Casey sitting together. I wave up to Matt but he doesn’t notice. We continue walking towards the exit of the entire condominium complex, and I follow Jake’s lead, guarding myself hesitantly and proceeding with care. He gets to be a few paces ahead of me before he says anything.

“Come on, Cameron,” he grumbles.

“Sorry, sorry.”

We walk together along the side of the road for a solid ten or fifteen minutes before we come upon a lit promenade. There’s no one out other than the occasional jogger. A steady flow of cars passes on the boulevard beside us. A few raindrops land in front of us, and Jake seems to pay no mind to the thunder rumbling in the distance. He breaks off of the sidewalk and leads me to the promenade, dotted with benches and string lighting that enhance the stormy atmosphere around us. He sits and pats the bench, indicating that I have to sit next to him. Jake lets out a long sigh and rubs his chest. He turns his head away from me, looking down the lit pathway.

“You need to get to know me,” Jake begins, “and Casey said it would be good if I got to know you.” His demeanour changes, but I cannot make out a solid expression since his face is still turned away from me. “Casey also said that I should try harder to be more accepting of you and Matthew.”

I sit beside him, my lack of words making the situation more awkward for Jake. A wave of confusion and curiosity flows over my body, and I can’t help but question his intentions. Jake looks down to his feet and the sound of rain slowly hitting the leaves is the only thing that is breaking the silence. He leans over and rests his arm on the back of the bench. Jake looks up to the sky and closes his eyes. The breeze ruffles his jet black hair. I want to pull out my phone, but at the same time, I don’t want to anger Jake.

“I’m sorry,” he breaks the silence. “I’m just possessive over Casey.”

I don’t know how to react to the apology, and at the same time, I don’t know how to respond to his admission of being possessive; or of his jealousy.

“Not like you tried to kill me or anything,” I joke.

He sets his jaw and stares blankly at the damp concrete. I realise that it was not the correct time to make a joke. My heart is beating through my chest right now, my mind is foggy.

“Casey is making me do this,” he admits.

“Why else would you be talking to me?”

Jake’s eyes narrow while his breathing intensifies. I misread the situation again, and my snide remarks are undermining the intimacy of this conversation. I feel sympathy for Jake, although I keep fucking up every word possible as if we’re in anything similar to the situation as we were by the park.

“Listen,” he says through gritted teeth. “ I am just trying to make amends. I know I need to get better with my emotions and I see where I fucked up.” Jake’s vulnerability shocks me again. “I’m not good at apologising, I never learned how to apologise and mean it.” I sit quietly this time, deciding that it’s probably best to not respond to him for the sake of both our mental sanities. He removes his arms from the bench, leans forward, and uses his fist to support his chin. The lights above us illuminate and contour every muscle in Jake’s back. The rain helps make his body look even more impressive. His skin looks soft, serving as a temptation to my eyes, even if what he has done to me has deterred me. We sit together for a couple more minutes as the rain begins to pick up. The steady amount of raindrops hitting both of us make us considerably wet.

“Well…” Jake rises from the bench and wipes off his shorts. “This is going nowhere fast.”

Without saying another word, Jake walks back in the direction of the condo, leaving me alone in the rain. I turn and watch Jake as he walks away from me. Once he gets to the sidewalk, he picks up his pace, beginning to jog back to the condo. The darkness engulfs his body. Eventually, the bushes that line the sidewalk obscure him from my view.

I sit quietly in the rain. I want to go after Jake to talk, but at the same time, I think that it would be better if we kept some distance until the raw emotions settle down again. I pull out my phone, and a text from Casey reads: “Jake wanted to be more open with you. I hope it’s going well.” I sigh and wallow into the bench.

My mind keeps flashing back to seeing him vulnerable— he showed me his back, his guard was down, and most importantly, he held his anger when I was being a pure dick. Am I not justified, though? I want to say that he doesn’t deserve to treat me like shit and then think I’ll just be happy about making amends. At the same time, I know the dick now, and the side of Jake that I had just seen offered me a look into what our relationship could be. The brain fog that has affected me all afternoon has only gotten worse with the dynamics and the newness of what could very well be a long journey with these four men, and dozens of others. I shudder at the thought of how many more guys like Jake are in the frat. I can understand why Jake is doing what he is. I also understand why he is so defensive over his boyfriend, but I do not want to be lesser than the rest, simply because I am the new one. For a second— or third time— maybe, well— I don’t know. I just know damn well that I’m overwhelmed and conflicted. Maybe my mother and Jake were correct. Am I really cut out for this?

The rain picks up. By this point, I am absolutely drenched. I peel my shirt off of my body, try to wring the water out, and put it down on the bench. I lean over, now facing the ground. I run my hand along the wooden bench before hitting it hard because of my anger. My breathing becomes rapid. For the first time in a long time, I feel like I’m back on the bottom rung of my life.

“Daisy, Daisy, give me your answer do. I’m half-crazy all for the love of you. It won’t be a stylish marriage, I can’t afford a carriage. But you’ll look sweet upon the seat of a bicycle built for two.

Billy, Billy, give me your answer true. I love riding, do you love it too? Slow or fast or faster. You lead, I’ll follow after. The path flies by as you and I ride a bicycle built for two”

---

USS Saipan LHA 2

The Tarawa-class amphibious assault ship is named in honor of the World War II Battle of Saipan, part of the Mariana Island campaign of the Pacific Theater in 1944. Her mission is to embark, deploy, and launch a 2,000 marine landing force by helicopter and amphibious craft.

Life at sea is unimaginably boring for marines. Nothing to raid, rape, or repudiate. Immersed in the mundane, it’s the same endless cycle governed by rules, regulations, and routines. Performing PT. Lifting weights. Dismantling and cleaning weapons.

So opportunities to vent aggression are always appreciated.

“It’s time,” Staff Sergeant (SSgt.) Decker announces.

His men have enjoyed Midshipman 4/c Davy Bell’s hospitality.

Reporting aboard six weeks ago for summer cruise, the Duke University NROTC midshipman received a warm Fleet welcome. Immersed in a sea of testosterone, the defenseless blue-devil was easily subjugated by the formidable marines and transformed into sea-pussy.

After weeks of continued use, the men have wrecked the accommodations. Disintegrating in quality, the boy’s sweet hole is rendered un-serviceable for single tenancy. Alas, the impermanence of flesh. Swept along in the entropic current of disorder, it’s destruction was inevitable.

Fortunately, the marines have a viable contingency plan.

Double occupancy.

* * * *

Lance Corporal (LCpl) Anthony Russo lies supine on a wrestling mat. 

Rugged and powerful, the handsome marine’s chiseled musculature is sheathed in smooth olive-hued skin. Anticipating his turn with Bell, he runs a purposeful hand up-and-down his oversized mortadella… ensuring maximum tumescence.

“Damn it’s fucking huge!” exclaims an envious PFC. 

Russo is a modern-day Priapus.

Raised in Canarsie, an Italian neighborhood in Brooklyn NY, rampant rumors of his extraordinary endowment spread throughout high school. Like metal shavings to a magnet, curious girls are inexorably drawn to him by an invisible force of nature.

Taking advantage of every opportunity to rupture hymen and stretch vaginal canals, he eagerly plant potent seed. Often to deleterious effect. Proudly bragging of his conquests… because that’s what big-cocked boys do, he earns the respect and admiration of his peers.

Pregnant girls’ livid fathers have a different perspective.

Facing repercussions Russo hastily enlists in the Marines.

Reporting to MCRD Parris Island he enters a maelstrom of unimagined ferocity. The intense 12-week indoctrination far exceeds advertised rigor. Not the first time a motivated recruiter is economical with the truth to meet a monthly quota.

Enlistees are subjected to carefully calibrated brutality. Screaming sergeants. Suffocating regimentation. Spartan barracks. Strenuous exercise. Sleep deprivation. The time-tested process breaks down individuality, establishes esprit de corps, and validates membership worthiness.

They eat, breathe, and think the USMC way or are severely punished.

Memorizing reams of arcane military information, performing exhaustive physical drills, crawling through mud amid screaming instructors, and being caged naked to learn about surviving as a prisoner of war are all considered effective training methods approved by senior leadership.

Some are despondent. Russo is ebullient. He loves the culture, customs, camaraderie. Experiencing a glorious transformation, with the scarlet and gold coursing through his veins, he’s bound to the brotherhood… a small part of a great institution.

Semper Fidelis!

Everywhere are young men flaunting the quiddity of masculinity. Like a North Korean military parade in Pyongyang’s Kim Il Sung Square with banners, bombs, and ballistic missiles, they proudly strut and display their impressive weaponry.

They compulsively scrutinize each other’s hardware. Because that’s what males do. Especially in the military. Sizing up the competition, the pack’s pecking order is firmly establish.

Alphas. Betas. Omegas. And Gammas.

The diminutive equipped inherently lack confidence and swagger. With the scythe of death casting a persistent shadow, they’re unsuitable to lead marines in combat. Exuding authority and invincibility, leadership is reserved for big-dicked alphas who fuck the enemy with steely resolve.

Even in repose Russo’s pendulous cock garners attention. Its true magnificence, however, is only revealed when fully inflated. Proudly showing it off, he entertains enthralled recruits with vivid stories of his many exploits. And who doesn’t enjoy a good impregnation tale?

Painfully erect, the recruits seek opportunities to vent sexual energy.

Engaging in roughhousing and grab-ass play, they eagerly explore sexual boundaries. Young, dumb, and full of cum, they’re amenable to trying anything once. Or twice. After all, how do you know you don’t like something if you’ve never tried it?

Marines have a cacoethes for embracing pain.

Looking to demonstrate toughness and endurance, bold dares and questionable challenges are exchanged. Stakes escalate. After all the bravado it’s impossible to back down. Reputations are in the balance. With peers watching several bend over to prove their mettle.

Of critical importance is how well a recruit absorbs pain. Style matters. He must take it like a real man. No hysterics. No crying. No begging for mercy. Mentally and physically tough, he must transcend the agony… giving his all for Nation and Corps.

Bruised and battered, recruits bask in hard-earned respect.

And improve their standing in the pack’s hierarchy.

* * * *

Two marines effortlessly lift Midshipman Bell.

“Is this going to work?” asks a skeptical PFC.

Manipulated like a marionette, the undersized boy is positioned astride Russo. Eyes meet and the LCpl smirks in confident superiority. Satisfied with reasonable alignment, the kid is unceremoniously forced down and impaled on the thick Italian sausage.

“Oh fuck,” Bell groans.

He’s shoved forward against Russo’s muscular chest.

Another young marine, PFC Banashefski, has plane-guard duty. He enlisted in the Marine Corps after high school to escape a suffocating existence in an isolated mid-west farming community. Drowning in tedium he craves adventure and new experiences.

He’s never had a piece of midshipman sea-pussy.

It’s his first time taking one for a ride.

Of course he’s heard the stories: truth larded with legends, superstition, and diablerie. The pleasure. The wonder. And how, when properly prepared, it’s often better than the real thing. Best yet, inveigling efforts and coercion are completely unnecessary.

Banashefski shudders from the excitement of exploring a new sexual frontier. With sails lofted he strides forward with unbridled appetency. Standing behind Bell, the marine slowly strokes his impressive kielbasa with both hands… accentuating length and girth.

His perspiring body exudes a deeply evocative woodsy scent. Polo by Ralph Lauren. The alluring fragrance is a carefully constructed blend of masculine notes. Leather. Tobacco. Wood with moss undertones. Just right for a casual evening with shipmates.

The mesmerized audience watches the unfolding spectacle.

Banashefski confidently approaches from astern.

Bell glances over his shoulder. Gaining situational awareness way too late he panics and struggles for freedom – an instinctual reaction for self-preservation. But escape is impossible. Skewed on Russo, he’s helpless to prevent the imminent incursion.

“Oh god no,” Bell cries. “Please!”

“Hey kid SITFU (suck it the fuck up),” advises a PFC.

Marines with soulless eyes imbedded in granite faces laugh at the helpless boy. They’re harbingers of death and destruction… not Molly Pitcher at the Battle of Monmouth offering comfort. Most have never fucked a hole with a buddy.

And they can’t wait to take the two-seater for a ride.

Flexing hips, Russo retracts his imbedded shaft a few inches down the taper. The cranberry glove twitches and opens a fraction. Just enough for Banashefski to visually confirm the target. Significant stretching will be required to accommodate both marines.

But that’s the whole point.

The out-of-commission hole will once again be operational.

Steaming in restricted waters with limited navigational aids, Banashefski maintains constant bearing with decreasing range. Poised on the precipice of pleasure, his extended bow approaches the midshipman’s stern. Collision is imminent. Sound the alarm.

Bell is hard aground upon Russo. Red over red. In extremis, with no maneuverability, his hull integrity is imperiled. Damage control systems standby to shore breached bulkheads and dewater internal compartments. Contracting core muscles, he braces for impact.

“Wait one,” barks Decker.

Time stops. Russo and Banashefski stand fast.

A ripped and ruined receptacle too early in the evening spoils the fun for everyone. Reaching into his pocket the staff sergeant produces a small amber glass bottle. Amyl nitrite. The vasodilator will facilitate the double ride.

“Inhale deeply,” orders the SSgt.

Bell takes several hits. Reality blurs. Venturing into uncharted waters, a kaleidoscope of sublime images whirl around his mind. Glimpsing the transcendent he smiles in silent lucidity. And resistance recedes with celerity like the outbound tide at the Bay of Fundy.

He’s ready to ride tandem.

“Carry on,” orders Decker.

* * * *

“Fuck him already,” demands a spectator.

Anxiously squirming, barely understanding what’s happening, Bell can’t easily accommodate both marines. Russo’s thick shaft already occupies most of the available real estate. Taking a deep breath, the midshipman tries to regain his composure.

Banashefski applies more Mil-G-23549 all-purpose grease. Well lubricated, inching relentlessly forward, pressure builds. Straining to gain entrance, testing elastic limits to the ripping point, he is singularly focused on climbing aboard.

More pressure.

Another hit of poppers.

A sigh and momentary unclenching.

Thrusting with powerful legs and thighs, the resolute marine lunges and breaches the barrier. Storming the entrance, the first couple of inches are buried inside the convulsing glove. Jousting for position with Russo, he acquires significant territory.

“Arrghhhhh fuck!” Bell screams.

Writhing in excruciating agony, he’s overwhelmed by the combined size. Inconceivable pain rips through his core. Perched upon their combined destructive power, he’s being torn a new one.

Riding a two-seater for the first time, Banashefski quickly finds his balance. Driving relentlessly forward, spreading and stretching the protesting ring and walls to accommodate the combined girth, he sinks deeper and deeper into the hyper-ventilating midshipman.

“Almost there.”

“Oh god… please, no more!”

But of course there’s more. Much more.

Solely focused on their own pleasure, working in tandem, thrusting with brutal coordinated strokes, navigating malleable bends, both men are finally embedded to the hilt. And the calescent passageway is better than advertised.

Banashefski grabs the midshipman’s shoulders for leverage.

Leaning forward with muscles contracted and nostrils flared, he rotates hips, twists and flexes the shaft, and pounds the hole. Rubbing against the velveteen walls, enjoying undeniable pleasure, he gains insight and understands the universal appeal of midshipman sea-pussy.

It’s a wonderous repetitious pageant of inches dragged out and slammed back in. Rising and pressed back down, the boy is a carnival ride at Coney Island. Galloping with heavy exertion up-and-down the poles, the carousel horse whisks the riders round and round.

An old legend says there’s a lead horse on every carousel.

It’s the biggest, most beautifully decorated… typically a war or military steed. Pole mounted, with all four feet in the air, Bell is a jumper. Not the herd leader. Carousels symbolize youth and innocence… and Russo cherishes memories as he fucks Bell with abandon.

Changing the rhythm, synchronizing diametric movement, the marines enjoy the extra friction of rubbing against each other within the packed hole. Skin on skin. Breathing heavily, sweaty flesh pressed together, groaning in pleasure, desperate for release, they ascend the pinnacle of ecstasy.

Dozens of marines watch the awe-inspiring performance.

Who doesn’t enjoy seeing a midshipman taken for a ride?

Russo strokes Bell’s face and spreads salty tears across his lips. Looking into his eyes, deep pools of liquid submission, he recognizes pain and pleasure. Pressing his lips against the boy’s mouth, steeling the breath, he violently rapes the midshipman with his tongue.

Bell emits an inarticulate rumble from his soul. Penetrated to unfathomable depths, he is acutely aware that he exists solely to service superior men. His inner sanctum is nothing but a receptacle for their masculinity. A vessel to be filled with enlisted seed.

Banashefski’s balls rise and tighten in their sack. He’s close.

“Oh fuck… I’m going to blow.”

Quivering in unison the marines detonate and flood the convulsing pussy. The intense blasts are followed by four more as the marines discharged their weapons. Running out of ammunition, the exhausted but exhilarated men reluctantly dismount.

And they admire the ravaged hole with pride.

“Thanks for sharing the ride with me Russo,” said Banashefski.

“Anytime,” exchanging congratulatory high-fives.

Quickly maneuvering into position, the next pair slot inside Bell. Degenerating into a strepitous saturnalia, marines queue up two-by-two for a ride. Double plugged for hours the blue-devil is irreparably ruined. But not until all-hands get a turn.

And another certified two-seater joins the Fleet.

Oohrah!

---

Comments and readers’ experiences with marines and midshipmen are always of interest.

Thanks for reading and for all the support. It’s been fulfilling offering my scenarios here during the last two years. Recently, I’ve been dealt some setbacks. If you enjoy this latest installment and enjoyed the previous ones, please consider contributing via Venmo @theseeker  

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“Since this is chemistry class, we’re going to perform an experiment today” said Mr. Stanton, our high school chemistry teacher the Friday morning before spring break as we were about to take a test. Mr. Stanton was brown-haired, serious, 45, and in good shape. “Everyone stand up, you’re all going to switch seats…” He began pointing and the students accordingly took their new seats. 

Frank glared at Mr. Stanton who glared back. Frank, Vinnie, Eric and I were split up. More importantly, we were apart from our genius bottoms Benjy and Alan. They did all our homework and helped us cheat during tests by sneaking us their answers. Who the fuck cares about protons, neutrons and all that stupid shit! Mr. Stanton obviously found out about our racket.

I now sat next to some girls and looked at the test in amazement, it was like a foreign language as I never paid attention in class. I just wrote any shit down. 30 minutes later, we all took our exams to Mr. Stanton’s desk and left.

“We’re going to get that motherfucker!” yelled Frank when we were sitting in the cafeteria. “By the time spring break is over, that fuck is going move us back to our seats and things will be back to normal!”

Later on, we drove in Frank’s car and hung out across the street from Mr. Stanton’s house. After about an hour, he came out with blonde Mrs. Stanton. They got into their car and drove. We followed them; they went to the airport. They parked in the garage, we parked nearby. We looked at Mr. Stanton’s Facebook. A half hour later, they came back with their only child, a 19-year-old son, Christopher. Wearing jeans and a varsity jacket, he was cute looking, blond, medium height with a good build. He was a freshman at a Vermont university and came back home to visit his folks.

“Well! This just got really interesting!” laughed Frank. We drove to the Crystal Palace Motel had a good fuckfest with Benjy and Alan taking care of us.

The next afternoon was Saturday, we were parked across from the Stanton house. We hung out for hours, watching them all leave, drive and return. Oh! At 7:00 PM, Mr. and Mrs. Stanton drove off alone, probably to a dinner party or something. Frank, Vinnie, Eric and I got out of Frank’s car and went to the front door and rang the bell.

“Hello?” said Christopher in a cheery confident masculine voice.

“Hey, is Mr. Stanton at home?”

“No, he’s with my mother at the country club.”

“Oh, I’m a student of his and was supposed to drop off some homework because I was out sick yesterday.”

“Ok” said Christopher as he opened the door, he looked all American Boy in his jeans, polo shirt and boat shoes. We barged in, “Hey!” he yelled.

We grabbed and forced him to the living room and threw him down on the floor. “What’s going on?!” “We should get more comfortable” said Frank as he started taking off his clothes. Vinnie, Eric and I began grabbing Christopher and pulling his clothes off. “Hey, Frank! Look at this!” when I saw Christopher’s silver ring engraved with “True Love Waits.”

“Holy fuck! This just got even better!” laughed the nude Frank, his eight and half dick was solid and bobbing around, as were his hefty balls. “You’re on a chastity until marriage kick?!”

“Yes, I’ve pledged to remain pure until I finish college and get married to my girlfriend” declared the now nude Christopher, whose seven-inch dick was hard. Frank grabbed his hand and forced it on his dick.

“That’s fucking nuts! You’re a good-looking young guy, you should be banging pussy all the time if that’s what you’re into! Instead, you’re Mr. Virgin!”

“It’s none of your business!”

“What is my business, is that your father fucked us over. The best way we can get back at him is to gang fuck you. When he sees what we did, he’ll make things right, because he’ll know if he doesn’t, we’ll do it again to you. This isn’t personal, we got nothing against you. Now, suck my dick.”  

“Please! No!” cried Christopher.

“Resistance is futile” said Frank, “Pete.” I reached into my pocket and took out the taser, I zapped Christopher’s young ball sack. Oh! The horrifying wail he let out!

“Ok, now you can tell yourself you were forced to do it. Pete is going keep zapping you, until you do it.”

The crying Christopher was on knees with Frank towering over him, he opened his mouth, extended his head forward and took Frank’s cock in his mouth.

“There you go! Good boy! Now, use that tongue and lick it all over.” Christopher was hyperventilating and sounded like he was going to barf as he worked on Frank’s cock with his tongue. “Well, you’re not pure anymore!” laughed Frank.

We’d done it again! Oh! What a fabulous sight! Frank standing tall and proud before a beautiful once innocent downtrodden straight boy on his knees who was sucking dick for the first time. It’s so much fun watching them be humiliated by being converted into cocksuckers with their sweet faces contorted around a big dick. Something they’d never thought they’d do! Because of us!

“You’re doing real well Christopher, now lick my balls.” Christopher did as he was told and was licking Frank’s balls. “Lick under the head of cock…” And so it went, Christopher got the hang of it. “That enough” said Frank, Christopher took his mouth off. There was Frank’s triumphant erect tool, slicked up with Christopher’s spit, strands of precum leaked from it.

The nude Vinnie’s eight and a quarter incher was presented to Christopher’s face. He sucked it without complaint as if in a trance. Vinnie pulled it out and Eric’s eight inches took his place. After Eric got done, it was my turn. Oh! The exquisite sensations of getting my dick sucked by a newbie! Christopher had adjusted and gave me some pretty good head.

“Get up” said Frank. Christopher stood. Frank groped his ass and fingered it. Christopher howled in shock. “I like you kid; I’m going to be as gentle as possible” whispered Frank. “NO! NOT THAT! DEAR GOD!” yelled Christopher who started thrashing around as Vinnie, Eric and I held him and followed Frank to the dining room. Frank pressed his iPhone, and the Rolling Stones were now blasting. We pulled the struggling Christopher onto the long mahogany dining room table. Frank zapped his balls, Christopher got compliant, he put himself on his hands and knees like we indicated. There he was in position, back arched with his pale luscious ass cheeks raised, displaying his clean pink tiny virgin hole. His hard young dick and full balls jutted downward over the table.

Frank took the lube bottle and drenched his cock and then poured plenty into Christopher. Frank put his hand on Christopher’s hips. “There, there” he whispered, “It’ll all be over soon.”

Frank kept his promise, I’ve seen him brutalize guys with his cock, now he gingerly put the tip of his dick against Christopher’s hole and very slowly began penetration. Of course, no matter how thoughtful Frank was, Christopher still had an eight and half inch cock going into him for the first time and was understandably distressed, screaming in agony. Frank got it all the way in, slowly withdrew it and pushed back in. He fucked Christopher at a steady firm pace. Christopher seemed to be getting used to having his ass split open and was sobbing at a now low volume. That was until he began moaning and grunting and carrying on as his dick began gushing cum all over the table. His first non-solo orgasm! Lucky boy! Frank hit his sweet spot! Frank kept thrusting until he was cumming, pulled out and splattered his load on Christopher’s back.   

 Vinnie went medieval with his cock on Christopher’s ass which got a good slapping. Why not, Frank just broke him in. Eric was his usual low-key self when he fucked Christopher. When it was my turn, I was so horned up. This felt like a special fuck because it was. Here, was a nice pure straight guy who hadn’t done anything wrong and could never conceive of four stallions invading his house and making him a bitch. I joyously hammered away giving his chute the old in out with my cock. He was so tight but had loosened up after taking three big dicks.

The sounds he made were more now of involuntary pleasure, which must have confused him. After all, he hadn’t thought about taking it up the ass before. I felt pleasure too as I felt his velvety ass ring stretch around my dick and then clamp snugly around it. Yum! He began chanting “OH! OH! OH!” He was cumming again! I made him cum with my cock! I saw his hard dick squirting again on the table. I pulled out, walked over to face. “Finish me off with your mouth, you need to swallow cum for the first time.” “Way to go, Pete!” roared my buds. He did like I told him, putting my dick that had just been fucking his ass in his mouth. He sucked it real well, I was blasting his throat with my hot load. He gagged some up, swallowed some, the rest I painted his face with.

“What are you drinking, Christopher?” asked Frank.

“I don’t drink.”

“Suit yourself.”

We were sitting around the table sipping shots of Mr. Stanton’s Gray Goose from his well-stocked bar, while puffing on our JUULs. We needed to come down after such a super fuckfest! Christopher who was drenched in cum, lay on the table surrounded by puddles of his cum whimpering in a fetal position. We found a bathroom, took showers and got dressed.

“You’re no longer a virgin, that’s for sure! Get off the table” said Frank. Christopher did, we took him to the front porch, we tied his hands up above his head. We left him standing for anyone to see, nude, having just been fucked four times and soiled with our drying cum.

We sat in Frank’s car across the street. About an hour later, Mr. and Mrs. Stanton drove up, parked and ran to their porch upon the sight of their trussed up nude defiled son. “Oh my God!” “What happened?!” Mr. Stanton untied Christopher, they were all crying and went inside. We weren’t worried, there was no way the Stanton’s would call the cops to report what had happened to their son. The shame and embarrassment would be too much. No, they’d keep quiet and get over it.

The rest of spring break flew by, we hung out with each other, and I went on a vacation to Chicago with my parents and younger sister. We followed the Stanton’s on Facebook and saw them at a few family events, they weren’t really smiling, especially Christopher. I saw that he wasn’t wearing his purity ring anymore. Before we knew it, it was Monday back at high school.

“Good morning class, go back to our original seats” robotically said Mr. Stanton, standing in front of the blackboard scribbled with formulas on it in chalk. “Teachers aren’t perfect, unfortunately I lost the last test. So, you’ll be taking it again. It’s the same test, so it shouldn’t affect your grade…”

Well! What a difference raping a son makes! Frank, Vinnie, Eric and I sat back pretending to scribble answers until nearby Benjy and Alan covertly passed us theirs’.

“Hey Mr. Stanton, we hope you had a nice spring break and spent time with your family around the dining room table” grinned Frank when the class ended, we swaggered up to Mr. Stanton who was seated at his desk staring blankly and handed in our tests.

We were wearing our white T-shirts, black leather biker jackets and scruffy worn jeans that showed off our heavy bulges. We were victorious warriors who had ravaged Mr. Stanton’s son,  crushed him and got what we wanted. He’d have to look at us five times a week for the next few months until we graduated.

“See you tomorrow, teach…”  

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Venmo: @theseeker  

“Are you sure you’re ready for this?” My father asks as we make our way to his bed in the dim-lit room. “I’m sure,” I say with a smile. Never have I ever been sure of something. 

Sure I was a little nervous, considering it was my first time, but the thought of my father about to fuck me excited me even more.

My cock is rock hard now, pressing against his crotch through all the fabric. I’m so into making out with my father, his soft lips and our tongues colliding with each other, that I don’t realize that we’ve reached the edge of the bed. I latch on to the bedpost with one hand as my father kisses my neck as I grab on to his hair with my other hand. 

He lifts me with his strong arms and throws me on top of the bed. He climbs on top of me now with a smile. His soft green eyes look into my deep blue eyes. 

He lifts his shirt revealing his lean body and well-defined abs. I lean up to raise my shirt, now feeling our bare skin touching each other.

My father’s dick is rock hard now and looks like it wants to escape his tight jeans. I struggle to undo his belt. We both chuckle, but I manage to do it. “Let’s get you out of these tight jeans, dad,” I say. I helped him pull his jeans down, revealing his black Calvin Klien boxer briefs. 

He pulls my sweatpants down and briefs, revealing my naked body. “You have a beautiful body, son,” he says as he leans down to kiss me. “You’re not so bad yourself, dad,” I say with a laugh. He laughs too.

 

“Ready to taste your dad’s cock?” he asks, knowing the answer. I pull his underwear down, revealing his long and thick cock. “Woah, dad, you’re a fucking monster,” I say as I begin to put his cock in my mouth. It tastes better than I thought. It tasted just like how his underwear smelled when I would sneak a pair in the hamper. Manly. 

I deep throat his cock as he starts to moan. “Holy shit, son, you’re doing great,” he says with more deep moans. What can I say? I’m a natural. 

I keep sucking his cock as he says, “Son, I’m gonna cum.” He stops me from continuing. “Want to see something amazing?” my father asks. My ass gets excited. 

He lifts my legs over his shoulders, and he leans down and starts kissing me more. He slips his now wet cock into my tight ass. “Damn, son, you’re so tight,” he says. He starts to go deeper inside of me. I begin to let out a deep moan. “Damn, dad, that hurts,” I tell him. “Relax, son, let your ass loosen up a bit,” he says to me. 

He finally puts the last of his dick up my ass. “Fuck, that’s shit hurts,” I repeat myself. “Don’t worry, it’ll feel good soon, trust me,” he says with a grin on his face.

Oh God, was he right because seconds after, my ass is begging for him to go faster. “Oh fuck yeah,” I scream out. “Dad, you can go faster now,” I tell him, so he does just that. “You’re a little slut for your dad’s cock, aren’t you?” I grab his tight ass while guiding his cock into my ass. “Want me to breed your ass?” he asks. “Fuck yeah, dad, breed your own son’s ass.”

I start to jerk my dick faster as my dad shoots his load of cum into my ass. The warmth of his cum hitting my prostate gets me to shoot my load of cum all over my upper abs. 

My dad starts to pull his dick out of my ass and bends over to taste my cum. “That shit tastes good, son,” he tells me. “Can I taste some?” I ask him. He scoops some of my cum off my abs and offers it to me. “I meant yours, sexy.” I slap his hand. He starts to laugh.

He rims my ass, his cum all over his mouth. He leans in to kiss me as I taste the leftovers around his mouth. It tastes salty and creamy. “It does taste good. Anymore?” I ask. “No, but maybe you can taste some more in round two,” he tells me. “Next round, I want to fuck your ass, dad,” I tell him. “I don’t usually bottom for guys,” he says. “Well, maybe you’ll like your son’s cock inside you.” he lays himself next to me. “Sounds kinda hot when I think about it,” he says. 

I snuggle next to him, falling asleep in his strong arms. 

In Romania, the DSS, better known as the Securitate, the secret police, spread fear and terror long enough until the 1989 revolution took place. Even after that, its long shadow remained as SRI to this day.

In a puritanical mood, homosexuality was punishable and had to be lived out in secret. But that didn’t stop officers of the DSS from living it out.

Socialist Republic of Romania, late May 1977

Generalmaior Gheorghe Mihailescu held an important position in the Securitate and accordingly had to make many decisions and take responsibility. Hence his tension and at times extremely bad mood. He was 45 years old, had black hair and blue eyes.

No one knew, or at least pretended, that he had been having an affair, or even a relationship, with his 31-year-old aide Locotenent Tudor Cartianu for some time now.

Officially following Ceausescu’s line, homosexuality was condemned as a foul decadence of the West, corrosive in socialism. However, Gheorghe had no problem dealing with this contradiction, saying one thing and living the other. Nothing about it. He needed and wanted sex with men. It made him happy and filled him up – literally.

Tudor noticed the pressure his lover was under as the two of them sat in Gheorghe’s office. He eyed him intensely.

“What’s the matter?”, Gheorghe growled.

“You’re in dire need of relaxation, Ghiu! Maybe we both need a change? I have an idea,” Tudor purred.

“What is it?”, Gheorghe asked suspiciously.

“Locotenent Emiliu Brancovici, who is also a . . . good friend, has given me to understand that he finds you extremely attractive. Maybe a threesome would be of interest to you? if you were into in a threesome? I could arrange that.”

Gheorghe gave him a look as if he thought he was insane. Nevertheless, he immediately felt arousal and an immense pull in his loins.

“I see you would be ready. I know you very well, Gheorghe!’

“Of! OK! Well! Let’s try it! Discreet, yes?” Gheorghe was nervous. Hopefully he didn’t make a fatal mistake.

The big event was supposed to take place on the first Saturday in June. Gheorghe had his own house near Piteşti, where he could do whatever he wanted undisturbed.

He was excited, dressed in civilian clothes but barefoot. That Emiliu was also a member of the DSS and he had studied his file extensively. He had told Tudor that they should both come in uniform, as that made Gheorghe very excited.

31-year-old Emiliu finally arrived – along with Tudor. They wore their uniforms, with the blue patches on the collar and the blue border on the cap. Both complemented each other perfectly. Tudor, light brown hair, green eyes, Emiliu, black hair, dark brown eyes. Both slim and handsome, as Gheorghe liked them to be. Emiliu was very nervous.

“It is a great honour for me to meet you personally, Comrade Generalmaior Mihailescu!” He kissed Gheorghe’s hand. That made him semi-hard.

“Call me Gheorghe. We’re on our own.”

“Mulțumesc, Gheorghe!”

Gheorghe took them to his spacious bedroom, tastefully furnished and containing a double bed. Tudor took Gheorghe in his arms after removing his cap and kissed him. Their mouths opened and their tongues curled around each other. They sunk into the sultriness and wetness of each other’s mouths. Now Gheorghe was rock hard and he could feel Tudor’s erection as he rubbed lustfully against his abdomen.

Still shy, Emiliu grabbed Gheorghe from behind, rubbed his hard cock against Gheorghe’s butt, then licked and kissed his neck. He also bit down lightly, pinching but not hurting.

Tudor first stripped off his clothes from his upper body, then unbuttoned Gheorghe’s shirt while Emiliu stripped off the top clothes as well. Tudor turned Gheorghe in Emilius’ direction. In his arms, Gheorghe received his stimulating kisses as his tongue explored his mouth. After that he pinched Gheorghe’s nipples and then sucked on them. They became hard and stiff. Tudor caressed Gheorghe’s back with fingers and tongue and teeth. He moaned and groaned deeply. He shuddered and got goosebumps.

Tudor opened Gheorghe’s trousers from behind and pulled them down, along with his underpants. He parted his cheeks and licked the slit until his tongue reached his anus. With great devotion he licked and nibbled it, repeatedly poking the tip of his tongue into it. Gheorghe’s knees were beginning to weaken. Emiliu knelt in front of him and licked his dripping glans. He took him in his mouth up to the hilt. Suckled and nibbled on him. He kept thrusting into Emiliu’s throat while clawing at his hair. Tudor skillfully fucked him with his versatile tongue. He squirted down Emilius’ throat, who swallowed eagerly and then licked Gheorghe’s dick clean.

Both then directed Gheorghe onto the bed. Emiliu and Tudor frantically undressed the rest. Tudor lay then on the bed, on his back, and pulled Gheorghe onto him, who found himself resting with his back on Tudor’s chest. He was still dripping wet from Tudor’s rimming, but nonetheless he slipped two more fingers into Gheorghe’s body that made him groan. He felt Tudor’s boner twitching and throbbing against his hole. He thrust his hips up and was inside him. Gheorghe felt well stuffed and cried out with lust.

Emiliu worked Gheorghe’s cock until it was erect again and then mounted and dropped on him until he was lustfully impaled by Gheorghe. He was bouncing up and down violently as Tudor kept thrusting into him. He soon erupted inside him and Gheorghe felt a trembling double wave of orgasm as he shot his cum inside Emiliu.

  Vai de mine! Gheorghe loved being taken like that. Tudor slid out of him and Emiliu down from him. Gheorghe was flipped onto his stomach in a flash and over his shoulder he saw Emiliu forcefully ramming his cock into his throbbing hole. Man, did he have self-control! He’d come earlier when he’d blown Gheorghe, but that he’d been able to contain himself for so long?

Gheorghe clutched the pillow with a groan while Emiliu fucked him hard, grunting wildly. He would probably be a bit sore afterwards and loved it. He enjoyed Tudor’s semen seeping out of him sticky and now Emilius’s jizz spilled hot inside him as Gheorghe splashed onto the sheets. This ecstasy and euphoria was almost too much.

After that, Emiliu slid down to Gheorghe’s butt and ran his tongue over his asshole. Vai de mine! He licked it clean there with relish, making ecstatic noises.

After that, the three of them snuggled together, sweaty, smelling intensely of musk and wonderfully sticky. Gheorghe hadn’t slept that well in a long time.

As I slowly undid his shirt buttons, I exposed his masculine chest with its dark patch of hair in the middle, trailing down his defined abs to start thickening under his navel. His bulging jeans indicated to me how excited he was. Not excited as I was, for sure. I was dying to sample what was inside that bulge.

Around his neck was a gold chain and a pendant. I stared at the pendant as I rubbed my hand over his crotch feeling his hardness under the fabric. The pendant was made of silver or platinum—I could never tell which is which; the shape was familiar and it took me a few seconds to recognize the one half of the yin-yang symbol. In the middle of the circular end, there gleamed a black crystal, like an eye, dazzling in its blackness with all the silvery shine around it.

I was mesmerized. When I glanced up at his face, there was a smirk and a wink. He reached to grab my chin and pull my head up to plaster his wet lips on mine, his tongue probing into my mouth. Moaning, I sucked on the hot tongue feeling his hands groping my butt cheeks and pulling me tighter into him. We kissed what it seemed to me forever, and I never wanted it to end. The slobbering and sucking and tonguing put my whole body on fire as we pressed on each other and as his engorged member prodded my belly, throbbing, insistent, lustful.

Still in the throes of kissing, we managed to get naked. His body emanated such heat, almost fever high, burning my skin, melting me inside his arms. I wallowed in his embrace, with his hands roaming all over my back, his mouth all over my face, his hard cock all over my crotch and belly.

Ever so slowly, he turned me around and spooned me. His cock slid between my thighs and nestled inside my crack, pulsating, alive. I pressed back into his hug and moved my hips on his crotch, feeling his thick pubes tickling my butt cheeks. His gruff beard grazed my nape and shoulder as he licked and sucked on my neck, his lips and tongue roaming all over my skin with abandon. I could feel his pendant grating against my skin, making me shiver. In contrast, his hands worked their way up and down my bare chest, fondling my nipples, massaging my skin, soft and gentle, as opposed to the masculine scraping of his beard against my neck and his pendant against my back. The mixture between masculinity and gentleness turned me into jelly in his arms. I could feel his heartbeats against my back as he pressed into me, totally owning me.

“You’re adorable, baby,” he whispered in my ear as he licked and bit at the lobe.

I moaned.

“I want you. Bad,” he added, moving his hips round, grinding on my butt, his cock insistent and impatient. I could feel the knob locating my hole and prodding. I wondered if he wanted to fuck me like this, standing up. It would be difficult for him to penetrate. He had greased both his cock and my hole already and I was certain he was intending to fuck. And I needed for him to fuck. But standing up? I had never been fucked in this position, which, in spite of my concern, made me want him more.

Grabbing my throat with his big hand, the other hand moving down to grab his hard rod, he pushed against my sphincter. I grunted at the pain. I tried to relax, but my hole shut tight against the invading man cock.

“Let me in, baby,” came the impatient voice from behind. “Open up for me.” Oh how I wanted to. To open up and suck his cock in and then to squeeze around it and milk it with all the force I was able to employ.

I wanted to. Badly. I craved for him to enter me. To fuck me. Deep. I needed his manhood inside me. I was aching for the hard cock to stretch my tunnel and massage my spots.

“I’m trying,” I groaned, the pressure on my hole increasing. I grabbed his hand that was clutching my throat and tried to will myself to loosen up.

“Just relax, pretty baby,” he goaded me, licking my neck. I shivered like a fucking leaf.

He let go of his cock and wrapped his arm around my waist, tightening his hold on my throat. I could feel the knob right at my hole, pressing, knocking to enter. With a heave, he thrust hard. I screamed; he penetrated the ring. I felt like I was being split in half. I wanted to beg for him to pull out. His cock was the biggest I had ever taken up my butt. The head mushroomed, thinned a bit under the ridge, and then thickened to an incredible girth, the middle of the shaft just about as thick as my wrist.

He moved his hand from my throat to my mouth, covering it, stifling my expected scream as he forced his thick cock deeper and deeper into me. I thought it would never end. I had estimate the length at probably 8 inches or even more since his thick pubes covered the base like a crown. There could have been one or two inches of cock still hidden in those pubes. He kept the pressure until the tickling of his bush against my butt told me that he was balls deep. He grinded on me. I could feel his hips moving round and round in circles, waiting for me to accommodate the huge monster of a cock. I almost fainted from the excruciating pain and the ecstatic sensations running up and down my body.

I reached back to grab his butt, my hands cupping the two hairy mounds, feeling the muscles ripple as he grinded against me. He started to pull out, but the pain of the thick shaft pulling on my ass lips was so enormous that I pushed him back in with my hands.

“Hurt?” he mumbled into my ear, still spooning me tight, still deep inside me.

I nodded, unable to speak.

“A lot?”

I nodded again. Tears were streaming down my face. He turned my head and leaned around to lick the tears and suck on my lips. I felt my sphincter and tunnel relax around his cock and I released the pressure I my hands had put on his butt. He moved out, sliding with some difficulty, but the pain had receded. Now I was craving for him to fuck.

“Oh, yeah, babe,” he moaned, biting my shoulder as I spasmed around his cock. The fucking was slow and deep, but nothing like gentle. This was a masculine man, with a huge and rock-hard dick, fucking a tight hole. No hesitation. No maybe’s. Serious man fucking.

The tempo increased. The grunting got louder. Our bodies were slick with sweat. I heaved and squirmed. He pounded, grunting out loud. I met his thrusts with constricting my ass muscles, massaging his shaft. It didn’t take more than a ew minutes for him to explode with a scream of his own as I squirted out onto the floor, squeezing on his pulsating thick cock base with my ring muscle, milking him for the last drop of his love juice.

As we settled into some kind of normalcy, he slowly pulled out of my screaming ass and turned me around to him, kissing my lips wantonly. I wanted to thank him. I wanted to tell him how much I valued his semen inside my guts. I squeezed my hole hard to prevent his juice from seeping out, but in vain. He had stretched it so wide that I felt the warmth and stickiness of his man cum sliding down my thighs.

He pushed me away a little, to reach down and into his pants pocket, taking something out that I couldn’t see.

“I love you, baby,” he said, a wide smile on his beautiful face, a naughty glint in his intensely black eyes. With a quick move, he raised both arms and slipped something around my neck. To my surprise as I looked down, it was a chain similar to the one he was wearing, but the pendant hanging from it was made from some kind of a shiny black metal. Obsidian? No, it felt like a metal rather than a rock. The shape, I noticed, was the other half of the pendant he was wearing, the Yin to his Yang. A sparkling white crystal marked the eye in contrast to the black crystal on his pendant.

“You are my Yang, babe,” he smirked.

From my scant knowledge about Chinese culture, I knew that yin-yang symbolized the existence of inseparable but contradictory opposites, the yin represented masculinity, the yang femininity. So I was the feminine in this relationship. I felt myself glowing, proud, that he considered me his other half.

“I’ve been waiting for this moment for a long time,” he said as he slobbered on my mouth and face. “I’ve been waiting to find my yang, baby. You’re it! You’re so fucking it!”

I grabbed his head with both hands, holding it still, to plant a sealing kiss on his hot lips, my breath taken away, my heart thrumming inside my chest, every nerve of my body tingling. He held me tight in his arms. Inseparable. His. Our pendants glued to each other. My yang and his yin bound into one.

Troy Monroe looked anxiously down at his keyboard. He glanced left, then right across the classroom noticing the other college students busily taking notes. Troy stared at his laptop; all it did was whirl and whine but did nothing else.

Frantically Troy hit control-alt-delete, hoping the computer would do something. It simply buzzed and churned but his typing did not appear on his notes program.

He raised his hand, waving towards the Professor.

“Yes, Mr. Monroe what is it?” The professor asked.

“Sir, my computer is locked up and I can’t get my notes program to work. Can you repeat what you said after the Ottoman Empire’s collapse?”

“I can repeat some of it, but if you can’t get the laptop to work, I think you should get out a pencil and paper.”

Finally, the words Troy had written a minute ago flowed across the program’s white sheet.

“Oh, it’s a bit better now Professor but it’s still really chugging along.”

“If I was you, I would take the laptop down to the IT services building and see if they can take a look at it.” The Professor returned to the white board and started reiterating his last couple of ideas again.

“Catch up, Troy.”

The young man typed as fast he as could, but the computer still intermittently froze and stopped filling the program with the professor’s thoughts. In desperation, Troy took out a pencil and paper and started jotting down the class notes.

He raised his hand again, getting the attention of the Professor.

“Yes, Mr. Monroe, what is it now?”

“Sir, do you know if the computer IT lab is open tonight? Class doesn’t let out until 7PM?”

“Yes, it’s open to 9. May I continue?” The professor sounded a bit perturbed.

After class Troy hurried to the library. Before he let anyone look at his laptop, he wanted to clean it up a bit. No sense letting someone see all the stuff he did on it besides his homework.

He found a secluded nook in a long aisle of books and sat down. He took his laptop out of his bag and turned it on. It took minutes for it to churn and whine, but eventually the screen cleared. First, he needed to get rid of a few games; uninstalling them he would add them back after he got back from the computer lab. Next, he found some folders of jpgs that he knew he had to delete!! And finally, he dumped his browser’s cache, and then emptied the recycle bin.

“There, that makes it clean as a whistle.” Troy thought to himself.

He checked the clock on the laptop; it was 8:30 PM. Still, plenty of time to drop off his computer at the IT lab and see if they could find anything wrong with his computer.

Troy hustled over to the computer lab department. It was a walk across campus and the night air was chilly and the windy was gusting.

He entered the building, heading for the basement where the lab sprawled. Most of the lights were off and many corridors were dark. He found a wall map and followed it down a series of twisting and convoluted hallways. He came to a large glass door, peering through it he saw one guy at a desk working feverishly on a large desktop computer.

Hours of operation on the door said that the lab was open until 8 PM on Fridays.

“Damn! I am too late,” Troy bemoaned to himself.

He knocked on the glass door and tested it the door was still unlocked.

“We’re closed, but will be open tomorrow at 9 AM,” the man called out but did not look up from his computer that he was working on.

“I was wondering if I could drop off my laptop and someone look at it. It’s been acting really weird, and it keeps freezing and locking up.”

“Sure, I guess we can do that for you. Come in and fill out this form.” The older man, perhaps in his mid to late 20s, stopped and looked up to Troy. The guy checked his watch and gazed around the empty room. The lab was deserted, most of the rooms dark.

“I guess we are the last two in the department for tonight.” The guy said nonchalantly.

“Yeah, this place is a ghost town. I didn’t see anyone upstairs either. Not even the cleaning crew is around tonight it seems.”

“So, what is wrong with your laptop?”

“It keeps freezing up; I wonder if it is the hard drive.”

The other guy looked Troy over and licked his lips, “I think you got a great hard drive.”

“What’s that?” Troy said as he busily took the laptop out of his backpack.

“Oh, I mean you never know about hard drives…. Sometimes you just need to work them over a bit and they are ready to go.”

“My name is Jonny, by the way. And your name is Troy Monroe?” The man said looking over the form Troy had hastily filled out.

“Why don’t you come back to my office, and we can look at your laptop right away. Maybe there is something I can do for you tonight.” Jonny stood up and walked to the rear of the lab talking as he turned on the lights as he went.

Troy followed, hoisting his backpack over his shoulder, and followed him into the recesses of the empty laboratory. They went down several corridors to the rear of the lab and finally entered a large office.

Inside were racks of computers and peripherals. A large desk and against the wall a beat-up old sofa laid.

“So, let’s see what is going on with your laptop. Power it up and type in the PIN so I can play around with it a bit.”

“Its an old laptop, but it does what I need it to do.” Troy sat on the couch and took out his laptop and fiddled with it until the startup screen appeared. With deft knowledge of the PIN, Troy filled in and then passed it to Jonny.

Jonny took it to his desk and hooked up a USB mouse. With it installed, he began opening and closing windows and control panels.

“You really use your browser. You have all sorts of sites in here.”

“I do? I thought I deleted my browsers history and cache.” Troy gulped thinking of the many different sites he had gone to. He jumped up off the sofa and quickly walked over to Jonny and the laptop.

“Hey, don’t worry about it. I don’t go around telling people what students do. You can trust me.”

“Damn! Thanks, there might be some sites on there that I went to once or twice, by accident, mind you. I don’t want you to get the wrong idea what I do on the laptop.”

“You look like you have visited quite a bit of porn sites?”

“Shit! I thought I had deleted the cache…. I mean, what I mean…Damn! I thought I had gotten ridden of that. Sorry!”

“Hey! It’s no big deal. I can clean things up for you and make this laptop good as new.”

“That would be great.”

“By the way, what kind of porn do you like?”

“What!?!” There was a long pause as Troy looked at Jonny shocked and a bit taken back. “Oh I like all kinds, I guess.”

“Do you like gay porn?”

“Oh I like to watch some lesbians go at it, sure!”

“No, I mean do you like to watch two guys fucking each other?”

“Wow! I never watched anything like that.”

“Here let me show you something.” Jonny typed a URL into Troy’s laptop, and then clicked on several screens and pull-down menus. “Watch this!”

On the screen two young twinks caressed and fondled each other. A tall skinny guy proceeded to go down on a much smaller, tanned younger man. Fondling his cock, the taller man started to savagely suck on his shaft. The two entangled themselves in carnal lust, fingering and fucking each other to the sounds of grunting, moaning, and exclamations to the Lord.

“How do you like that?” Jonny asked Troy.

“God! That is so hot.” Troy replied.

“So, what is your type?” Jonny quizzed the younger man.

“My type?”

“Yeah, what kind of guy turns you on? Like, I am into young, skinny guys …. Mostly those wearing glasses.” Jonny whispered as he seductively pushed Troy’s frames up his small perky nose.

“Uhm…. Well, I never thought about it.” Troy continued to watch as the two young men kissed and grappled with one another. The smaller of the two guys finally lay on his back, while the other pushed his legs up to his head. Grabbing his cock, he thrust his cock into the other’s glory hole, pushing softly at first then rapidly grinding hard into the man.

“I like my men, athletic…” Troy returned his gaze to Jonny, looking him up and down slowly, “with a hot tan.”

The video ended on the laptop, with the two men sweating, panting, and kissing.

“Do you want to watch another one?” Jonny asked Troy.

“Sure…. Or we can make one of our own?”

“I would like that…” Jonny said closing the lid on the laptop and slowly touched Troy.

Troy tilted his head to one side, kissing Jonny’s hand as he caressed his cheek.

Jonny stuck his two fingers into Troy’s mouth, the younger man began to lick and suck them. Jonny’s other hand moved down Troy’s chest, stomach and to his belt. With deft hand, he undid his belt and zipper with one hand and peeled Troy’s pants over his round rump. Pulling his fingers from his mouth, Jonny took both hands and tugged his boxer shorts down.

With a grin Jonny gazed upon Troy’s throbbing cock. Lowering himself down he took it into his mouth and began to suck and lick the pulsating shaft.

“Oh God, that feels so good. Don’t stop.” Troy moaned, as he grasped Jonny’s head in both hands and rocked it back and forth.

With a deft tongue, Jonny worked his mouth over the young man’s cock bringing him quickly to explode a wad of his load into his wanting mouth.

“Get over on the sofa!” Jonny demanded of Troy. The young man complied; sliding out of his pants and underwear he mounted the sofa and looked over his shoulder waiting for Jonny.

Jonny unhitched his belt and slid his zipper down, pushing his pants to his knees. He aggressively mounted Troy, sliding his cock into the younger man’s asshole. Troy white knuckled the sofa and waited for the impending pleasure.

Slamming his cock into his ass, Jonny drove home with everything he could muster. Each thrust was met with a bark and a moan from Troy. The younger man’s glasses slowly rocked down his nose, finally flying across the room from the pounding of his ass.

“I’m going to bury a load of cum in you.”

“Fuck me! Fuck me hard….” Troy moaned.

Grasping Troy’s shoulder, Jonny pulled back to the rocking of his hard massive cock against his plump round ass. He thrust and pushed, feeling his meat cleave deep into the younger man’s tender body.

Each thrust made Troy moan louder.

Grabbing his shoulders with both hands, Jonny thrust one final time then exploded pulling out just in time for the load of cum to shower Troy’s sweat stained back. Releasing him, Troy sagged on to the couch, over stimulated and exhausted from the bronco riding, glory hole fucking Jonny had given him.

Out of breath, Troy gulped air then mewed. “God! That felt good. Can I fuck you!?!”

Jonny waited for Troy to stand up on wobbly legs, and then took the sofa; lying on his back he spread his legs. Lifting them over his head, Troy looked down on cock, balls, and asshole. Feeling his shaft with one hand, he pumped his dick until it was large and stiff.

“I want to fuck you so bad!” Troy purred as he stuck his dick up the older man’s ass. He lowered himself between his spread legs and began to feverishly kiss the man’s tits and neck. Jonny’s head lulled over the seat of the sofa. Troy’s cock found Jonny’s sweet spot and he pumped the older man as hard as he could muster. The two locked together rocked the sofa for minutes of carnal sex.

“Cum inside me!” Jonny moaned.

Troy thrust hard as he could, like a piston on a hot engine he throttled Jonny. With legs quivering from both excitement and fatigue, he exploded into the man feeling his load of cum spray deep inside him.

Without a hint of thought, both men rolled against each other coming into a perfect sixty-nine position. Jonny licked his lips looking at the other’s cock throbbing inches from his face, while Troy immediately opened his mouth for Jonny’s prick.

Both men sucked each other off again. Jonny having more experience, he knew exactly how to make the younger man cum. He waited patiently for Troy to make him explode into his mouth.

“God! That was great, Jonny!”

“I enjoyed it immensely…I just wish we could do it again.”

Jonny stood up and gathered his clothes. Putting on his shirt again, he continued to watch Troy as he did the same.

“I think your laptop needs a new hard drive…I suggest you come back here tomorrow and we can install one again, or better yet why not come to my house and I can show you my computers.”

“That sounds like a great plan. Maybe you can show me around.”

“I have a room that I need to show you.”

“Is it full of computers?”

“You can say that. It’s got some big screen TVs and it’s full of electronic gadgets and gizmos.”

“I would love to see that.”

The End

A fantasy tale of traveling alone on a dark highway and wanting some company.

I had been driving long run truck routes for a few years now. Coast to coast, border to border on the back roads of the states.

We take the back roads because we encounter less humanity, less governmental restrictions. And being private contractors we haul let’s say things government agencies might take issue with.

I was on a long haul through the great smokey mountains of Tennessee on a hot August night. I was driving a big van on this trip, that made it a little nicer, and cooler than a big rig. Kinda like a motor home with no windows, all black and kinda like somethingout of a movie. It was getting late and driving alone we know to stop and rest so we have no issues. I was on a pretty secluded road, and I saw a nice place to pull over and rest.

I climbed in back and settled in.

I had been sleeping comfortably for hours when there was a pounding on the door.

I grabbed my 9mm from the lock box, checked the cameras to see who was there.

He looked all of 17, 18…very skinny, 5′ 6″ maybe, shaggy shoulder length hair.

I opened the back door “can I help you boy”

I asked. “Sorry Sir, I didn’t know if anyone was in there” he stammered…”what are you doing way out here, there’s nothing around here for 100s of miles” I asked. “I was kicked out of the home because I just turned 18” he said.

“I’ve been walking for a few days, and I’m thirsty, and hungry” he continued.

“Well, sounds like you have a problem young man” I said smiling. In my mind I was salivating, he was 18, legal and all.

I wasn’t into Minors, fuck that. But an 18 year old that looks like a young man or girl….I can definitely do that.

“Look kid, I can help, but it ain’t free” I said. “I’m broke mister” he said. “I’m sure we can figure something out, come to some agreement” I said.

I opened the back door and let the boy in.

He grabbed a seat on the bench. I pulled out a couple water bottles and a sandwich from the cooler and gave it to him. He downed a bottle of water and tore into the sandwich.

He finished his sandwich, and the second bottle of water and leaned back and was dozing off. I figured if I let him sleep and I could check things out. He fell asleep pretty quickly.

As he laid there sleeping I studied his body.

Small, petite almost. He has a sweet young female figure. I traced his thigh to his slender hips, flat stomach, I started sliding my hand down to his almost flat crotch…I could feel a small cock. I guess I rubbed a little too much as the boy jumped up. “No!” He said “I’m not gay” he continued.

“Relax boy” I said. “Look son, I said we would have to come to an agreement on that food, drinks and a safe bed.” I continued

“Look mister, I can’t, I’ve never done anything like this” he said shaking.. “the way I see it there are two ways that this is going to play out” I continued “either you’re going to undo your pants and let me see that little cock of yours, or I will take your pants off myself and see that little cock of yours” I said firmly. Reaching for my wallet I could see the indecision in is eyes…

I took a $100.00 bill from my wallet, put it in the palm of my hand and placed it on his cock. He took the money from under my hand, leaving my hand on his crotch.

He started to stand and slowly unbutton his pants…”Nice and slow boy, I want to enjoy this” one by one he popped his 501 buttons.

I could see he wasn’t wearing any underwear.

As he got to the last button his pants fell to the ground. He stood there for me to see…

He was almost hairless, his cock was thin and short. I reached out to fondle it and he jumped “relax boy” i said and continued to fondle his little cock. It was soft, and pink.

I slid my hand between his legs and pulled him forward swallowing his little cock in my mouth, again he jumped and tried to pull back, I just held him tight and continued sucking. His little cock was growing in my mouth. His moans intensified, I could tell he has never been sucked. His little cock was hard as steel and about 4 inches.

I slowed down and asked “you ok boy, you enjoying yourself” “yes sir” he said.

“Undo my pants” I said. He looked at me with an almost fearful look and started undoing my belt. I leaned back so he could undo them easily. He did my belt, slowly undid my button, lowered my zipper and stopped…”keep going, take it out” I demanded

He hesitated and grabbed my cock. I could see on his face he was in a daze of should I or shouldn’t I…he pulled me out and softly rubbed it. His eyes opened wide as he got a look of my cock. I’m not huge, but I have a great cock. Strong 7 inches, thick shaft and a fat mushroom head. “Go ahead, put your mouth on it like I did to yours” I said “I can’t sir, I just can’t” he said. “Sure you can, just lick it softly, touch it” I said to him. I put my hand on the back of his neck and slowly pulled him forward to my cock. He licked the shaft softly. He put the head in his mouth and swirled his tongue around it.

I push his head down on my cock more and he gagged pulling up. I laughed, “easy boy, just relax” I said lifting my hips and pulling my pants off the rest of the way. I pulled him back down towards my hardening cock. He swallowed more this time. He really started getting into it. My hands were exploring his soft body, he was hairless from head to toe with just a little pubic hair. I fondled his ass cheeks, he really seemed to like that as he moaned while sucking my cock. I started to spread his cheeks so I could see his hole better, this made him stop sucking me and look up with total fear in his eyes. I think he realized that this wasn’t stopping at a blow job. I pushed his head back down on my cock again, licked my finger and started massaging his tight pink virgin hole. He was moaning, squirming his ass, almost pushing back on my finger. My cock was rock hard at this point and he was struggling with it. I could tell he was starting to enjoy himself as he was trying to get more and more in his mouth…I pulled him up and positioned him on my lap. I kissed him forcefully and he didn’t pull away, he kinda went limp letting me have my way with him. I kissed him, fondled his body. I know he was intrigued because he was starting to grind his hips in my cock that was standing hard between his ass cheeks.

We kissed for a bit longer and I decided it’s time, I’m going to de-flower this young man.

I rolled him off of me and laid him on his back, ass on the edge of the bed and knelt down between his legs. His little cock still hard. I put my tongue to his asshole and started working it. I could tell he was really loving it. He was moaning, twisting and turning…I figured the time was right, I slid my pinky finger in breaking the seel on his virgin ass. He jerked back…”Sir, I can’t, I’ve never done this, it’s going to hurt” he said.

“Yes it will boy” I said. “But I will take my time and you will enjoy yourself” I continued.

He laid back again getting as comfortable as he could…I slid my pinky all the way in and he let out a muffled scream. I pulled it back out and slid it back in. I did this for a few times, then switched to my middle finger and he noticed…his moans were getting louder, his body was twisting and squirming. I reached in the bedside drawer and grabbed my lube.

I sprayed some on his hole and my finger, sliding it back in all the way. He enjoyed that.

I lowered my head taking his rock hard little cock in my mouth and he jumped. He arched his back as I worked a second finger in his asshole. I probed his insides with my fingers as I continued to suck his cock. I knew he wasn’t going to last but I didn’t care. I sucked and finger him till he screamed out shooting ropes of cum down my throat. His cum was sweet and hot. I kept sucking and fingering him till he was dry of his juice. I sat up, gently lifting both his legs to my shoulders, I leaned in and kissed him softly. “I’m going to fuck you now, I’m going to bury my cock in you and you are going to love it” I whispered.

“Please sir, I’m a virgin, it’s going to hurt” he said “yes, yes it will, and my cum will flow through you making your asshole mine” I continued “please sir” he started as I placed my cock at the entrance to his tiny tight pink hole…once again he begged “please sir, I can’t” and with that I popped his cherry, and stuffed my thick mushroom head in his asshole. He jerked up but I was holding him tight, he could move anywhere. “Relax, that’s just the tip” I said. Tears were forming in is eyes, I slid more of my cock in. His tears started running down his cheeks…I grabbed the lube and sprayed more on my cock shaft and is asshole. I slid more and more in him.

I could see the pain level was intense for him. I let him adjust a bit to the size in him. As he closed his eyes and continued to cry I decided it was time…I slid out a bit, and slammed balls deep in his virgin ass. He screamed like a school girl, tears ran down his face. I held him steady and let his asshole feel my girth. I slid back out a little and back in. I was going slowly so he could adjust to the pain. I leaned in whispering “your ass is mine now boy, I am going to impregnate you and your going to love it” and started working my cock in and out. I hadn’t had a virgin in a long time, he was so tight it was heaven.

He was crying like a child who had his favorite toy taken from him but I just kept fucking him. I could tell he was changing, his tears were drying up, and his moaning had intensified, he was starting to move his hips.

I kept my pace up pretty good pounding him.

I slowed and removed my cock, I started to roll him over on his stomach, placed a pillow under him so his ass was up ready for anything…I stood up behind him and lined up my cock to his hole and slammed it deep.

He lunged forward a bit then to my surprise he wiggled his ass backwards so his ass took all of me. I continued working is ass knowing I was going to cum soon. I pounded him hard so he knew I was in charge. I could hear his moans as I pummeled his young prostate.

I reached under and felt his little cock and it was hard again and leaking cum. I pumped his ass and his cock simultaneously.

He tensed up and came once again and I knew what to do. I sped up my pace and was fucking him like he was a whore. I felt my balls tingling, my rod pulsating and rammed one last deep thrust filling his ass with my seed. I kept pumping my cum in his ass.

Thrust after thrust I pounded him.

I slowed allowing my cock to pop out. I slid my fingers in his hole scooping my cum up and raised it to his mouth and made him clean my fingers. He did so to my delight.

I leaned back and took a deep breath and to my surprise my little friend rolled forward and started licking my cock and cleaning it up.

He was really working it, I started getting hard again and in no time I shot another load deep into his mouth. He continued eating it all down, continued to clean my cock and then slid up on my chest to rest.

We laid there and dozed off to sleep.

I wasn’t sure how long we slept but I was waking up and he was still lying on me, head on my lap. His soft body was like nothing I’ve had. He was like a little girl I used to fuck when I was a teen. She was in her 20s and could pass for 13. He had much of the same attributes. Feminine curved hips, flat stomach, high tight butt cheeks. I was thinking as he laid there sleeping. If I put him in pigtails, and a little dress, maybe some light makeup he would be a perfect little sissy slut.

I started stroking my cock again as it started getting hard thinking about my new little toy all dressed up and worshipping my cock. I slid my hand down his back as he laid on me, finding his ass, I slip my finger in his crack and massaged his hole. He squirmed on me twitching slightly as to say yes sir, enter me. I found the lube, squirted some on my hand and worked my finger deep in his asshole again. He looked up at me and started sliding up my body so he was sitting on my lap. My cock was hard and sitting nicely between his ass cheeks…he lifted up some so I could position my cock at his hole, he leaned in and kissed me softly…and sat all the way down on my cock…he screamed and tears ran down his face but he smiled and stared lifting up and slamming back down, I knew I owned this boy know. He bounced like a slut up and down on my cock till I tightened up and filled his ass again with my seed.

He sat there for a moment with his head on my chest and my cock still in him. As my cock softened and poped out of his ass he rolled off. I stood up and went into the bathroom to clean up.

I came out and started getting dressed, and told him to as well.

“Where can I drop you boy” I said

“I have nowhere to go, I don’t have anyone or anything” he said softly. “Can I ride with you for a while?” He asked with sad puppy dog eyes. “Look boy, you ride with me we will have to discuss your future and what you’re willing to do for me” I said “anything sir” he replied smiling.

I thought to myself, he has no fucking idea what he just agreed to…

We got in the front of the truck and started heading out.

I looked over at him, he was staring out the window with a little smile on his face.

Yeah, I own him now.

---

I hope you enjoyed this tale. And you got just as hard as I did writing it. The open road is full of surprises, and I can’t wait to see where this story goes.

We meet early at Tyson’s house. After our run, Tyson offers me the shower first. Twenty minutes later I’m in black jeans with a purple polo, half tucked in, half out. I’m even wearing a belt. Tyson tells me that I can wait in his room if I want. While he showers, I sneak across into the art room. This room was the scene of the crime five days ago. His stunning creations are as amazing as anything we’ll see at the museum later. To me anyway.

As I head back to his bedroom, Miranda intercepts me in the hall. Even though the shower is on and there’s no way Tyson can hear us, she leans in and whispers, “I’m guessing Tyson didn’t tell you, but Sunday is his half-birthday.”

She sees the confused look on my face and explains. He turned 18 six months ago, but his whole life, their parents didn’t think it was fair to him to have to celebrate his birthday just after Thanksgiving and so close to Christmas. The weather is bad, people are busy, you get gipped on presents… So, they always celebrate his half-birthday instead.

“Our parents won’t be back from New York yet and, well, I just thought you should know.” She disappears down the hall.

Shit. I was already cast to be the villain in our little drama. What the fuck do I do now? Do I break his heart (and my own) at midnight ruining both prom night and his sort-of-birthday, or do I wait, making it worse later? Either way, is anyone on planet earth a bigger asshole than me?

No, no, no. I have to remind myself that the right decision isn’t just the right decision for me. He has a whole world of opportunity ahead of him as well. No matter what direction he goes in, I know Tyson Courtland will win at life. I have no right to stand in his way.

I have to stop thinking. Fuck.

~~

It’s our ninth day together, but I can’t help getting a giddy feeling about being in Tyson Courtland’s bedroom again. I mean, come on, he’s Tyson Courtland. The Tyson Courtland. His room is as neat and clean as the first time I was here. Other than a couple pairs of Shaq-sized sneakers in the corner, everything seems to be in perfect place.

When I used to have erotic dreams about Connor, one of them was of me being alone in his bedroom. I would snoop through his things, find his underwear drawer, go through his hamper of dirty clothes, try on his oldest, most beat-up sneakers, steal some souvenirs, etc. As I wait alone in Tyson’s room, it’s not just that I won’t allow myself to do those things…I don’t even feel the impulse to. I don’t want Tyson’s things. I want Tyson.

I sit down on his bed and the shower turns off. Within a minute he walks into the room wearing a pair of jeans, but nothing else. He moves around in front of me like it’s no big deal. I feel my heart rate kick up and I know that I’m blushing. Tyson notices and asks if I’m okay. I just nod and I can’t rip my eyes away from him. Suddenly I wish we were spending the day at the beach or a pool or anywhere that he could remain shirtless. I force myself to divert my gaze before I get caught ogling.

Tyson looks me up and down, “You look good. I like the color.”

I blush again, but I take a chance and say, “You look pretty damn good yourself right now.”

Fortunately, he laughs. I stand and walk up to him. I put my hands around his waist and pull him in close. I crane my neck up and we kiss. Our first kiss was amazing and each one since has only gotten better.

Just then, a throat clears from behind us and Miranda says, “You really should remember to close your door.”

We separate quickly and this time we’re both blushing. Miranda disappears and I say, “Oops.”

Tyson slides his big feet into socks, pulls on a shirt and says, “I guess I should talk to her…soon.”

I step up to him again and take his hand. “Speaking for myself, getting busted was totally worth it.” I give him my best charming smile and he squeezes my hand.

The museum awaits. “Let’s bounce.”

~~

My parents are gone all weekend for my older brother’s college graduation and my kid brother is sleeping over at a friend’s house. I cook Tyson dinner at my house. After, he offers to help clean up. We’re standing side by side in front of the sink. We turn and face each other. Tyson spreads his legs about three feet apart so that he doesn’t have to crane his neck down and I don’t have to stretch up. We’re the same height now. Almost. He puts his hands on my hips and we do my favorite thing. His hands work their way under my shirt and onto my bare skin. I quiver from his light touch and goosebumps spring onto my flesh. In this moment the whole world seems to shrink down to just the two of us, right here, right now. Soft tenderness turns to rough passion. My whole body is responding and I squeeze him tightly. I wish we didn’t have to go to that fucking bonfire. I just want to stay in with Tyson and watch a movie curled up together on the couch. Keep doing more of what we’re doing. But responsibility is like a kick in the dick. I suppose we are the poster boys of inclusion week. Sigh.

We finish the cleanup and I run up to my room, swapping my polo for a hoodie. The temperature is supposed to drop this evening, so better safe than sorry.

I give Tyson a reluctant, “Lets bounce.”

~~

There’s a group of protesters across the street from the school parking lot. As we get close enough to read their signs, we’re assaulted by their hatred and ignorance. Their chants match the hate-speech on their signs: “GOD H8S FAGS”, “YOU’RE GOING TO HELL”, “AMERICA IS DOOMED” and “FAGS ARE BEASTS”. Tyson reaches over and squeezes my hand as he passes by them and turns into the parking lot. I recognize about half of them as people from our class, including Hannah, Stacey, Kevin and Ricky. My heart rate kicks up and my face flushes in anger.

Tyson says, “They don’t matter.” He squeezes my hand harder. “I could turn around and we could leave. I think people would understand.”

I would have jumped at the chance to stay home with Tyson an hour ago, but now that we’re here…I say firmly, “No. They don’t get to win.” I have to remind myself that they are the minority. “We shouldn’t be surprised. Based on the Facebook comments going all the way back to our promposal post, we should have known this was coming.” I turn and look at him, “What about you? Some of those people used to be your friends.” He cringes.

“Besides questioning my own judgment and intelligence…”

“No. Don’t. You don’t know who people are until they show you. This isn’t on you. Fuck them.”

We find our fellow council members and offer our assistance, but Ellen and Heather have everything under control.

Mrs. Horan is also here as the nominated school representative to ensure safety and appropriate behavior. She informs us, “The police have been notified of the protesters and they plan to drive by periodically throughout the evening to ensure the protest remains peaceful. We’ve been asked to not engage with them. We should call 911 immediately if the situation changes.”

Somehow Mrs. Horan’s announcement leaves me feeling less comforted and more uneasy. But the protest is across the street. I look around and I see friendly faces. I see Danny, Layne, Troy, Gabe, Ellen, Heather, Connor, Natalee and many others. We’re good here. We might as well enjoy the night.

There’s a s’mores-making station. Even before I gave up sugar, I never liked s’mores. I don’t get it. No matter how perfectly a marshmallow is toasted, it will never be hot enough to melt a square of chocolate. And marshmallows gross me out anyway. They’re like eating sweet foam rubber. Yuck.

The music is loud and the fire is roaring. There’s a Glow Stick Capture the Flag station and a Team Scare Competition. Tyson and I defeat all challengers in capture the flag. As the evening progresses, couples begin to gather around the fire. We’re standing near Danny and Layne and Natalee and Connor. Tyson is holding my hand, but most of the couples are kissing. Tyson and I are not “out” in general. Hand holding is one thing, everybody knows that we’re “together” for the week, but kissing in front of everybody? Tyson leans down and whispers, “Follow me.”

We slip away from the group, away from everyone. Tyson takes me under the bleachers on the “home” side of the football field. This is even farther away from the protesters – farther away from everyone. Nobody else is around. Because there’s an outdoor school event, the field lights are on, but under the bleachers it’s shadowy and dark. Tyson says, “We haven’t really talked about public displays of affection beyond handholding. I thought we could use a little privacy.”

I rest my forehead against his chest. “Hmm. PDA is a weighty subject. What are your thoughts?”

“I already told you, there is only one person whose opinion matters to me. I’d rather make prom week more memorable for us than worry about what others think. But if you’re not ready, then I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“We should talk about it, but right now, we’re alone.”

We begin to lean into each other and I hear something. Urgent pounding footsteps. Someone is running and the sound is getting closer. Suddenly the runner is upon us, slamming full force into Tyson, who, with an oomph, literally goes airborne and lands ten feet away.

I can see now that it’s Kevin Johnson. Kevin looks down at Tyson as he’s splayed on the ground and says, “I knew you were a fucking fa-”

“Hey, asshole,” I cut him off. I stop him from saying that word, but he barely registers my presence. Either I don’t matter to him or I’m just a slight nuisance, easily dealt with after Tyson. I can see that Tyson, still on the ground, has had the wind knocked out of him. He’s desperately trying to breathe in but can’t. He can’t do anything right now. Kevin’s attention is 100% on Tyson and he begins to move toward him. I’m no physical match for Kevin Johnson, but I have to at least buy Tyson some time. I have to give him a chance to recover and find his air or Kevin will kill him. I remember what Tyson had told me about Kevin being strong, but slow. Just don’t let him catch me. I also remember how Tyson goaded him into throwing a punch.

I try to get his attention again. “Hey, Tiny Dick!” This stops him. As he turns to look at me, I notice that Stacey, Hannah and Ricky are all watching from a distance. Those three homophobes are the only other people around. No support for our side anywhere. It looks like Hannah has her phone out and is recording the scene.

Kevin is facing me now. “What the fuck did you say?”

“I called you by your new name, Tiny Dick! Because everyone knows your steroids left you with a micro penis. I’d try kicking you in the dick, but the target is so small, I’d probably miss.”

I must have said the magic words, because now he seems to have forgotten about Tyson and he moves to grab me. I easily twist away. He lunges again and I dart again. Now he runs straight at me, but I run too and I’m quick and agile while he’s slow and stiff. I have to balance not letting him catch me with staying close enough to him that he doesn’t decide to give up on me and turn back to Tyson. It’s a delicate dance and not easy to do. I also attempt to keep his attention by continuing to antagonize him. I call him, “needle dick” and “teeny peeny” and he roars in anger as he continues his pursuit.

I’m having no problem keeping ahead of him, but there are too many dark shadows and I trip on an angled metal support beam that I don’t see in time. I can hear a laugh in the distance from our small audience as I land hard, face first on the jagged rocky surface. Kevin pounces and he’s on me. He’s all muscle and over 250 pounds. I’m probably 135 soaking wet. He has a knee on my upper back, one hand pressing on my lower back and the other hand mashes my face hard into the stony earth. He crushes every last bit of air out of my burning lungs and I can’t breathe. I’m trapped and helpless. All I had to do was stay ahead of that fucker and I failed. He’s gonna kill us both and it’s all my fault. How long does it take for a person to lose consciousness? Or to die?

Just then, Kevin is ripped off me. I inhale a lungful of sweet cool air and roll over. Tyson. He must have had just enough time to recover. He drags Kevin aside and gives him a chance to stand up. Kevin is the strongest guy in our class, but Tyson takes second place. Plus, Kevin is slow and stupid. He winds up for a big, powerful but deliberate punch that Tyson easily dodges. Kevin’s follow through carries him forward and Tyson takes advantage of that momentum by delivering an uppercut to the gut. Kevin collapses in a heap.

At this point, Ricky realizes that his friend might be in trouble and he starts running toward them. Tyson has his hands full with Kevin, who’s back up again, so I scramble to my feet and run to intercept Ricky. I slide into his path and trip him. He catapults forward and lands face-down on the gravely ground. I approach Ricky as he attempts to stand. He’s on his hands and knees when I give a powerful kick to his ribs. I hear a crack followed by a yelping gasp and he crashes back down. I squat, kneel on his back and speak into his ear, “If you try getting up again before Tyson and I walk out of here, the next kick will break your jaw.” I stand up straight and emphasize my dominance by stepping on the side of his head and pressing his face harder into the sharp rocks. I look back to the Tyson and Kevin show.

Kevin takes another swing and misses again. This time, Tyson connects with his face. Kevin’s head snaps back, but he stays on his feet. Tyson is done toying with him. He delivers a quick one-two to the solar plexus, followed by one more to the jaw and Kevin falls.

Stacey and Hannah are both screaming from their spot on the sidelines. Hannah still has her phone out and is wailing, “Assault! Help!”

I take my foot off of Ricky’s head and approach the shrieking girls. We’re a good distance from the bonfire and I know that the loud music is drowning out their cries. Even if anyone hears, it’ll take a few minutes before help or witnesses arrive. I walk up to Hannah Vaughn and snatch her phone right out her hand. She screams, “Hey! What are you doing?”

I look at her screen, press stop on the recording and delete the video. I say, “Once and for all, Hannah Vaughn, shut the fuck up.” I whip her phone to the ground and stomp on it three times. Satisfied that it’s beyond repair, I pick it back up and slip it into my pocket. I look at Stacey and speak what I believe are the first words ever passed between us. “Where’s yours?”

She holds out her empty hands for me to see. “It never left my bag.”

I say to the two of them, “I don’t think either of you saw anything here tonight. Now get the fuck out of here.” They scurry away.

Tyson appears at my side and I take a quick look back to make sure that neither Kevin nor Ricky is moving. I say, “You know how in horror movies, you think the guy is dead but he comes back to life for one more attack?” They remain still and quiet.

Tyson says, “They’re not dead and this isn’t a movie.” He hooks his arm around my shoulders, “Are you okay?”

“I don’t know why I need to be constantly saved from that guy.”

“Hey, you saved me. I had the crap knocked out of me. I couldn’t move.” He squeezes his arm tight around me, “You are a fucking idiot!”

Not what I was expecting, “What?”

“You should have run. He wasn’t interested in you. You should have gotten the hell out of there and stayed safe. Look at you.” He angles my face to get a better look at the damaged left side. I wasn’t really aware of it before, but now it feels wet and sticky.

“And leave you there defenseless? You couldn’t breathe. Seriously? We’re in this together. You have to know that running away was never an option. Then I tripped and…” I trail off.

“You were brilliant and brave and stupid.” We stop walking. “If anything had happened to you…” He sounds genuinely terrified and tears run down his cheeks. “I don’t know what I’d…” He sniffs. “You should have run and saved yourself.”

“You couldn’t breathe! He would have killed you!”

“And he almost killed you.” He hugs me so hard; my feet leave the ground and I almost lose my air again. He lets go and we resume walking.

I say, “I guess we saved each other. If I could go back, the only thing I’d do differently is not trip on that fucking beam.”

Tyson almost chuckles, “We make a pretty good team.” He puts an arm around my shoulders.

We walk past the school gym and I take Hannah’s phone out of my packet. With all my might, I hurl it and it lands on the gym roof. Tyson looks at me and says, “You do realize that they attacked us, right? We were the victims here. Video doesn’t lie.”

“It could with creative editing. What if the recording started with me taunting Kevin and calling him names? He finally catches me and you swoop in and attack him. She could have manipulated the video to make it tell a completely different story. It’s not worth the risk. Neither of us is getting expelled over any of those assholes.”

Tyson looks at me, “I hate to break it to you Pearson, but there’s evidence of what happened tonight all over your face. And I mean that literally.”

~~

“Where are your first aid supplies?”

“I’ll get them.”

He steps in front of me. “Before you look in the mirror, just know that it’s not as bad as it looks. I’ll get you all cleaned up.”

That scares me. I go into the bathroom and flip on the light. I’m a terrifying sight; like a creature from a slasher film. Dried blood trails on my face. Even though I’m not feeling the pain, I begin to crack. I start shaking and shuddering. Tyson is nearby and swoops in. He carries me to the couch before dashing back into the bathroom and reemerging with the first aid kit.

I look up at him, “I did this to Ricky.” I point to my own fucked up face. “I didn’t have to. He was down. He was done. Did I need to mash his face harder into those rocks? Did I need to crack his ribs? Did I really need to threaten to break his jaw? I didn’t know that was in me. It’s like I got angry and hulked out. And you… Kevin could have killed you.”

“Your quick thinking saved both of us.”

“I thought I was an idiot.”

“A heroic idiot.” Tyson continues to clean and disinfect my wounds. “Ricky made his choice. He picked the wrong side. Don’t waste one more brain cell thinking about that asshole. It’s not like he was some innocent victim. He so deserved what he got.”

“When did you get the shiner and the new bruise on your jaw?” The old bruise from last week was finally almost gone.

“Kevin got a few elbows in while I was dragging him off of you.” He finishes dabbing my face and uses his phone’s camera to show me. “See, it’s not nearly as bad as it first looked. You’ll be scraped up for a while, but in the meantime, you look like a freaking badass with street cred.”

 

I almost laugh. It’s after 10:00 already and I worry that he’ll be leaving soon. I’m still shaking and rocked by what’s happened. “It’s just so unfair. Why do some people get to be who they are out in the open with no fear of consequence and others can’t? I mean ‘normal’ is subjective. My normal, your normal, our normal might be different from many others, but that doesn’t make it wrong.” He puts his phone away and I lean against him. “And what the fuck? Go ahead and don’t like it. You do you and let us do us. How are we hurting anyone? We’re not. What the fuck is with the anger and violence?” I shudder as I take in a broken breath.

He squeezes me tighter. “I’m not leaving you alone tonight. Someone needs to be here. Danny? Your brother? Or me? I mean, like, I’d stay on the couch or something. Nothing is going to… I mean I just want to be here. With you. If you want.”

It’s cute that he’s embarrassed. I look at him and he’s blushing. “Yes, that’s what I want.”

“Good. Just let me text Miranda.”

He’s gone a long time. When he finally returns, he hands me a mug of hot cocoa. He also has the comforter and pillow from my bed and he’s wearing just a t-shirt, boxers and socks. He says, “I don’t mean to be presumptuous, but when I said I didn’t want you to be alone, I didn’t just mean alone in the house. I need to be with you. You know…to make sure you’re okay.”

I smile at him and take my hot cocoa. It’s perfect. Not too sweet but just sweet enough. Hot, but not too hot to drink. I click the remote and mindlessly channel-surf as he sits on the couch next to me and pulls my feet up onto his lap. I sip my drink while Tyson gently massages me. It’s really nice. Between the hot cocoa, the warmth of my comforter and the foot rub, I’m beginning to feel human again. I set my empty cup down on the table, stand up and pull off my hoodie and jeans. We lay on the couch and in our underwear with Tyson spooning me. His muscled arms are wrapped around me. Tyson pulls the comforter over us. I can’t remember the last time I felt so warm and safe. And loved. Sleep hits me hard.

Nine days down and one to go.

~~

Light streams through the family room window. We’re still in the same position we fell asleep in; me the little spoon. I suspect, by his breathing, that he’s awake too. I slowly turn onto my back and see his open crystal-blue eyes. He smiles. He brushes my hair off my forehead and trails his finger down the undamaged side of my face, down my jaw line, down my neck, down my chest, makes my stomach quiver and stops just before reaching my boxers. He circles around my navel and trails back up to my chest. I’m lost in those eyes as he finger-draws on my bare skin. 

I wish we could stay in all day. I would happily skip prom and not move from where I am right now. But we have commitments. Responsibilities.

He asks me, “Did you sleep okay?”

The couch is a tight fit for two people, but in Tyson’s arms, I slept like a baby. “Yeah, I did. Thanks for staying. I really needed that.”

“I needed it too. If I’d gone home, I would have just been up all night worrying about you being alone. Head injuries are nothing to mess around with.”

“I’m cut up and bruised, not concussed.” I suspect he stayed awake all night intentionally to watch over me. “You couldn’t have been too comfortable smashed all night between the back of the couch and my ass.”

He laughs. “I had trouble sleeping, but it wasn’t from a lack of comfort. Holding you in my arms all night was not the worst way to spend eight hours.”

“So why didn’t you sleep?”

“Do you really want to know?”

Maybe I don’t. “Yes, tell me.”

“I couldn’t sleep because I don’t want midnight tonight to ever come. I want to remember every minute with you. I told you that I’d win you over this week, but I’m not so sure I succeeded. And the attack last night doesn’t help my cause. I said I’ll respect your decision, whatever it is, and I will. If you kick me out of your life tonight, I will be gone. I’ll be broken, but I’ll be gone.” His eyes brim with tears.

I wrap my arms around him and kiss his forehead. “If I say no, you have to know that it’s not because of anything you did or didn’t do. You said you’d win me over this week…you won me over the first day. When you knew Vienna and told me it was one of your favorite songs. When you took me to your house and showed me that collage. When you gave me my first sushi experience and revealed the real you. When you showed me your art and told me about your true passion. When you told me that you ‘like-like’ me too and that I am the best friend you’ve ever had. You won me over and over and over.” I take in a deep breath. “So if I say no, you’ll know there’s only reason why. To protect us in the long run. If we break now, there’s time to heal.”

He says, “But if we don’t break now, you don’t know that we will break later. You can’t know. We might never break. Sure, it would be hard. Life is hard. We already know that life will be harder for us, whether we’re together or not, because of who we are. But it could be better together.” He sniffs and another tear rolls down his cheek. “What if we weren’t really…” He trails off.

“What if we weren’t really what?” I ask.

“Nothing. Well anyway, that’s why I couldn’t sleep.” He taps at his phone for a minute and lets out a sigh.

“Is it your dad? What’s wrong?”

“No, nothing like that. The Bulls lost last night. It’s over. They’re over.”

I can see in his face that he’s afraid the end of the Bulls’ season is a metaphor for our relationship. “That sucks.” I stand up. “Follow me.” I lead him to the bathroom and offer him a new toothbrush as I grab my own. “This isn’t the movies; it’s real life. I have morning mouth.” He smiles and we brush in unison. The mirror tells me that I still look a little like something from a Stephen King novel, but the night made some of the redness and swelling fade. Tyson’s black eye, however, looks worse.

I say, “Look at us. Tonight’s prom. What do we do?”

He says, “Well I’m going to slip on a pair of Ray-Bans and look even cooler than usual. I don’t know what you’re going to do.”

I playfully elbow him in the ribs. Our fresh mouths find each other, but the mood is off and the streak is over. We’d peaked and now we’re on the other side. I whisper in his ear, “Someone recently said something wise. Something about taking life as it comes.”

He gives me a tragic smile and my heart breaks a little more.

~~

After a sleepless night and a vigorous run, Tyson is knocked out on the couch.

Not waking him, I sneak down to the music room. I’d been working on the lyrics to my song in bits and pieces for days. I’m so close and I really want to finish it. In some ways it’s like it wrote itself. So much of what we’ve done and said together this past week is in the song. I wonder if I’ll ever play it for Tyson.

~~

Tyson says, “You shouldn’t have let me fall asleep. If this is our last day…” He drifts away for a second, then clears his throat, “We were together when it started and we’ll be together until the end.” He rubs my shoulders and says, “We should start getting ready.”

“Your tux isn’t here.”

“I’ve got it handled. Mills is on his way with it.”

So, I jump in the shower. As I towel off, I look at my face in the mirror. The swelling and redness have lessened, but the scrapes and scabs remain. There’s nothing I can do about it. Or maybe I can distract from it a little. I grab my brother’s hair goop and try to sculpt something on top of my head. Tyson opens the bathroom door and watches me in amusement. I say, “I’m obviously not good at this.”

“Let me,” he runs his fingers through my hair a few times and it molds into a decent looking shape with some lift and movement.

“I should have let the artist do this from the beginning.”

Finished with my hair he slides his fingers down my spine, then back up again. I tingle in response. I am suddenly aware that the only thing I’m wearing right now is a towel precariously tied around my waist. He kisses the back of my neck, giving me goosebumps. I turn to face him and kiss him deeply. We’re back on track – a new streak has begun. I put my hands on his shoulders and he slides his fingers up and down my bare sides and across my abdomen above the cinched towel. Said cinched towel is now tented over my erection. “Fucking prom. Do we really have to go?”

He turns me around, probably so I don’t stab him, and wraps his arms around me from behind. Looking at me, at us, in the mirror he says, “If it were anything else, anything…I’d say let’s skip it.” He kisses my ear, which does nothing to help my “condition” subside. “Prom was kind of how this all started. People are counting on us.” He lets go of me with a sigh. “With any luck, this will be ‘to be continued’.”

~~

I step out of the bathroom and he closes the door behind me. His shower starts but I can still feel his touch on my skin, on my lips. I walk into my bedroom and Tyson’s tux is laid out on my bed next to mine. That damn student council. If we weren’t in student council, we wouldn’t have to be early to prom to help set up. If we didn’t have to set up, dinner wouldn’t have to be so early. If dinner didn’t have to be so early, who knows what could have happened in the bathroom just now? And it’s the same thing after prom. The official after party at the school goes to midnight. We’re obligated to attend. Other kids get to go off and have fun with their dates. Some will head out to the lake on cruises. Some will go formal bowling. Others will… Well, it’s prom night, right? Fucking student council. Of course, if it weren’t for student council, I never would have had this opportunity to be with Tyson at all.

It’s a few more minutes before things have “relaxed” enough for me to put my pants on. I just finish getting dressed when Tyson walks in like me earlier, only in a towel. I can’t handle watching this show right now so I say, “I’ll see you downstairs. If I don’t walk out of here immediately, we might not walk out of here at all.”

A few minutes later we’re both downstairs, fully dressed and ready. I had decided to forego the bow tie and put on a vintage necktie I bought at a thrift store last year. It’s thick, wide, colorful and paisley. I can’t be sure but I think it’s from the 70’s. Tyson tells me, “It’s perfect, but it’s crooked.” He crosses over and his hands go to work making adjustments.

As I stare into his eyes, I tell him, “Of course it’s crooked. I’m not good with straight things.”

Tyson cracks up.

Except for our embattled faces, we step outside looking like the perfect couple. Like we should be on the top of a big, gay wedding cake.

~~

Tyson brings me to The Sushi House in Naperville. Two boys in tuxes having dinner together on prom night without two accompanying girls means we draw numerous stares and whispers all through the meal. What century are we in?

~~

We walk into the banquet hall and it’s immediately obvious that news about last night has spread. No one is shocked by our battle wounds. Instead, we’re greeted by fist-bumps, hugs and requests for tabloid-like details.

Eventually, Danny and Layne arrive. When they see me, they immediately pounce. Danny wants to say something but Layne actually pushes him aside and hugs me fiercely. “Jackson Pearson! You scared the shit out of us! What have you gotten yourself into?” She grabs my chin and angles my face for inspection. “I told you two to be careful! I told you two to take care of each other!”

“We did. That’s why we’re here and those four aren’t.”

Danny says, “You should have called us, or at least texted. Let us know you’re okay.”

Properly chastised I say, “I’m sorry. I didn’t know what you knew. If you hadn’t heard, I didn’t want to freak you out. It looks worse than it feels. I was going to tell you all about it tonight.”

Danny, more curious than angry now says, “So…tell us.”

I wave Tyson over and have him retell the story for about the eighteenth time.

Danny says to me, “I’m not much into comic heroes, but you’re like Iron Man or something.”

Does Iron Man blush?

Tyson puts his arm around my shoulders, “He saved my life last night.”

Praise makes me uncomfortable, “He’s got that backwards.” I hook my arm around Tyson’s waist and appraise my friends, “You two look incredible. What are your plans for later?”

Layne sighs, “If you’re asking if we’re going to your lame after party at the school, yeah, just for you, we’ll make an appearance.” She steps in close, “I don’t know how early you two got here. Maybe they weren’t organized yet, but now, just like last night, there are protestors out front. The same hateful, ugly messages. There are at least as many as yesterday. We couldn’t tell if our favorite foursome were among them, but either way, you’re not walking out of here alone tonight. Not even together, alone. We leave as a group. This is not up for debate.”

Tyson spots more of his friends making their way in and excuses himself.

Danny asks, “What are you telling your parents tomorrow when they see your face?”

“In all honesty, I haven’t thought about it. I’ve been…preoccupied? Tomorrow is Future Jack’s problem. I can’t think past tonight right now.”

Layne can’t help herself, “Midnight, right? What are you going to say?”

I scoff, “I love you dearly, Layne, but this is one thing you will not be the first to know. Look, I’m not 100% decided yet, but none of my reasons, none of my concerns, none of my fears have been proven invalid. I should probably stop talking now before I say something none of us wants to hear.” I back away from them. “Go have fun.”

~~

I’m not a dancer. Dancing is everything that I am not. It’s showy, loud, flamboyant, attention seeking… It takes a special kind of self-confidence, arrogance almost. I am not a dancer. But tonight, I dance with Tyson.

~~

The DJ announces a five-minute break and Tyson steps up to the microphone to introduce me. I sit at the piano and perform Rainbow. My haunting, stripped-down rendition seems to captivate them.

During my performance, hardly anyone danced. They watched, they swayed and some of them cried. The song seemed to have an effect. As I step off the stage, the applause begins and a chant of Jack, Jack, Jack breaks out. I walk to the center of the dance floor where Tyson steps toward me, closing the space between us. His eyes are moist too. He doesn’t have to say anything, I can see that my performance moved him. I look him up and down. He’s still put together perfectly; every hair is in place; his tuxedo is fresh and wrinkle-free like he had just gotten dressed moments ago rather than hours ago. I feel disheveled. Tyson either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care. His eyes have not left mine. He is the tallest, handsomest, most popular guy in school and he’s my date, my boyfriend.

We continue to sway with the song and I feel the eyes of the room on us. My performance is over, I am no longer on stage, but I still feel like the center of attention. Despite everything that’s happened these last few weeks, I’m still not used to being noticed. I’m one who has always blended in, not stood out. The person whose arms I’m in, he’s the standout. He removes his head from my shoulder and we’re now damp cheek to damp cheek. I feel like this is all a dream. The thing is, I don’t know what’s about to happen any more than anyone else does. Then, standing there, swaying in the middle of the dance floor with most everyone watching us, he kisses me. It is a long, deep kiss. It’s not discreet, it’s not hidden in any way. And it’s certainly not part of any “stunt” or “statement” or “thing” that we’ve been doing all week. It’s real and it’s right there for everyone to see.

There are soft gasps and when we come up for air, everyone cheers. Tyson says in my ear, “I hope that was okay.”

I’m flushed and wobbly, “I’d score it a 9.8.”

He laughs, “I mean I basically just ‘outed’ you…us…in front of everyone.”

I mock-gasp, “There are other people here?”

He cracks up. Making Tyson Courtland laugh is kind of my favorite thing in the world to do. Well, second favorite.

He says, “It sure felt like it was just us.” He palms the back of my head, fingers entangled in my hair and kisses me again.

He whispers, just for me, “I love you.” And I squeeze him tight. No matter what happens later tonight or anytime for the whole rest of my life, I will remember this moment forever. I won’t remember my scraped, scabby face or the tears I can hardly see through, but this feeling will stay with me forever.

The slow song ends and a fast tempo, upbeat song about partying on the weekend begins. I need a moment and I head off the dancefloor. I stagger to our table and I find that Tyson has followed me. We’re nearly alone; it’s truly a party at this point and everybody’s dancing.

“You alright?” Tyson asks.

“I just need a minute. Don’t worry. I’m good.” I take his hands in mine. “I know I told you that I never planned on a relationship in high school. Maybe not even in college. But that didn’t stop me from fantasizing about going to prom with the boy of my dreams. I never knew who that boy could be, just that he would be perfect, and the night would be perfect.” I sigh, “It was just a fantasy; I knew it could never actually happen.”

Tyson keeps listening without interrupting me.

“It fucking happened. And with Tyson Freaking Courtland! Who, by the way, just gave me my first ‘public’ kiss. For the whole rest of my life, wherever life takes me, I will always remember that kiss.”

The next song keeps the energy up and the electricity in the room is palpable. There is a buzz and it’s contagious. I nod at Tyson and he leads me back out to the dancefloor.

~~

We stay through the last dance, but not just out of obligation. I actually didn’t want prom to end. That would have been unimaginable just a few short weeks ago. Danny, Layne, Connor and Natalee insist on walking us all the way to Tyson’s car before breaking off. The protest has thinned out from what Layne described earlier, but there are still over a dozen of them chanting, circling and waving those disgusting signs. Their path actually comes close to where Tyson is parked and I’m glad our friends are with us. I see no evidence of Kevin or Ricky, but Hannah Vaughn is right there in the thick of it. Tyson and I are in the middle of our gang with Layne and Danny on the left, closest to the protestors. As Hannah circles by, she trips and falls forward, mangling her poster and snapping its post.

Layne gasps, “Oh, honey, are you okay?”

Hannah clambers to her feet, “You Bitch! You tripped me!”

Layne feigns shock, “Oh my goodness no, sweetie. Of course I didn’t. It’s dangerous marching in the dark, you can’t see where you’re going. You know, I’ve warned you before to watch your step. Somebody could get hurt.” Layne winks then stares her down, daring her. Hannah huffs and stomps off.

~~

The after-party is set up in the gym. Canned beverages, store-bought cookies and vending machine candy bars fill a cheap folding table that looks like it’ll collapse if you breathe when you walk by. As nice as dinner and the dance were, this is… Actually, it’s kind of perfect. Just hanging out and chilling for a while with my favorite people. I have no complaints about any part of this night. I take a cold bottle of water and drink half it in one long swallow. This night, this day, this week has been so fraught with emotion, I just can’t even begin to imagine bowling or doing anything crazy right now.

Danny, Layne and Tyson all go to get something to eat and for a moment, I’m alone. But only for a moment because Connor sits down next to me. He looks at me, puts his arm around my shoulder and says, “So you’re gay? For real?”

I hesitate and look at him for a beat. His eyes are kind and I decide he means no harm. He’s just doing his awkward best to start a conversation. I answer, “Yes, for real.” Just a mere ten days ago, Connor Mills sitting next to me, talking to me, hanging his arm around me would have been a fantasy come true. That feels like a lifetime ago. Today, he’s not my secret crush anymore. He’s just a guy. Sort of a friend even.

“So, this thing with Tyson…” Connor tries to find the right words, “It’s not just for inclusion week? I mean Tyson is-”

I raise a hand to stop him, “I don’t speak for Tyson. You two should talk.”

He says, “That’s cool.”

I eye him suspiciously.

He drops his gaze to his shiny rented shoes, “I wanted to apologize. I can be an idiot. Sometimes I try to be funny or cool or to impress my friends. That’s not really who I am. In student council that day? That was a dick move. I’m sorry. Anyway, I just want you to know that whatever your ‘relationship’ with Tyson is, I’m happy for you both.” He starts to get up but changes his mind. “And it’s totally badass how you beat the shit out of Ricky and helped Tyson with that fucker, Kevin.”

I smile at him, “I actually wanted to thank you again. That day in the cafeteria when you stood with me against Kevin. I was in real trouble there. Thanks for the save. Like, really. Who knows what could have happened?”

“That guy’s been an asshole for four years now. I was just glad I was around.” Suddenly his shoes are interesting again. “High school is just about over. I wish I’d taken the time to get to know you better.” He looks back up at me. “I have to get back to Natalee.”

~~

My friends come back with an assortment of junk food. None of it looks good to me but I take a small dark chocolate almond bar anyway.

Tyson says to Layne, “You are totally boss.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. She tripped.” Layne sips a Sprite, “I still wish I could have punched her in the face.”

The four of us talk and laugh and just veg out for the next hour. Danny tells me that Layne cried during Rainbow and Layne punches him in the arm, “We both cried.”

I ask if my scraped-up face was visible to the audience while I was at the piano and they all tell me, “No.”

To prove the point, Tyson takes out his phone, taps at it a few times and hands it to me. It’s a still picture he took of me at the piano, showing just my right-side profile. Just then, Connor reappears and tells Tyson that there’s something he has to see over at another table. Tyson excuses himself. I look back down at Tyson’s phone, but it’s gone dark. When I wake up the screen, it’s not on the photo anymore. It’s showing the contents of a folder. It’s a really fucking full folder.

I scroll back and back and back some more. There are pages and pages of photos and videos, all from our ten days together. Some of them I knew he was taking, like the one at the end of the ping pong game. Many of them I had no idea. His collection goes all the way back to that first afternoon in the choir room after I finished playing Vienna. Even the reject photos from the promposal that I made him promise to delete are all here. He chronicled every day, maybe every hour of our time together. This thing meant something to him long before I even knew it was a thing. He has surprised me over and over again. Who is Tyson Courtland? He really is the sweetest, kindest, most generous person I know. What am I doing? Seriously, what the fuck am I doing?

Layne’s voice breaks my trance, “Jackson, I would say that tonight was a raging success. When Daniel asked me to prom two months ago, I thought this night would suck.”

Danny whines, “Hey…feelings over here!”

“Not because of you, honey. Just the thought of prom. But you really came through Jackson.”

“Huh? Oh, thanks,” I look at my watch. It’s 11:30. I realize that my heart is pounding. I suddenly can’t imagine letting another minute go by. I say to Danny and Layne, “I have to go do something. Right now. You two should go too. Get out of here. Enjoy the rest of your night alone. Go have some heterosexual relations, or whatever it is that straight people do.”

They look at me, simultaneously horrified and amused.

“I’ll call or text tomorrow afternoon. I promise. Now go!”

I find Tyson in the center of a large group. Of course, everyone hangs on his every word as usual. I catch his attention and when he sees me his smile widens. He breaks away from the group. “What’s up, Pearson?”

I slip him his phone, take his hand and say, “Follow me.”

~~

I drag and pull him down the hall, away from everyone else. This end of the school is dark and quiet. Only scattered emergency lights are on in the shadowy halls. We get to the choir room door and fortunately, it’s unlocked. If it hadn’t been, I would have been forced to break in. This is where we need to be right now for this moment. Back to the scene where our time together began. I push the door open, flip on the lights, guide Tyson inside and close the door behind us.

He asks, “What are we doing in here?”

“There’s one last song I need to play for you.”

His smile falls.

“Wait. Poor choice of words. There is a song that I have to play for you right now.”

He looks at me skeptically. “Are you dumping me? It’s not midnight yet. I still have a half hour.”

“Listen to me. I told you that we can’t plan our futures around each other. That it would be crazy to make promises we don’t know we can keep.”

“Right,” Tyson sits and folds his arms across his chest. “I’m well aware of your clinical, overly cautious logic.”

I ignore the sarcasm and push on, “Here’s what I realized. No, we can’t plan our futures around each other, but really, we can’t plan our futures at all. It’s the future. We can guess, we can hope and we can try, but we don’t know.” I shift on the piano bench. I’m not sure I’m successfully making my point. I wave my hands like I just erased an invisible chalkboard. “Ten days ago, sitting right here in this room, in this very spot, where we began, I played Vienna. It’s taken me ten days to realize that you are my Vienna.”

Tyson unfolds his arms, “So you want to play Vienna again for me?”

“No. I mean, yeah, sure, sometime, but not now. Now, I need to play you the song that’s been going around and around in my head for ten days, which might be the most beautiful and potentially tragic song ever written. And So It Goes.” I play it.

I let the last notes breathe and fade to silence. I raise my head and, for the first time in three and a half minutes, I look at him. I quote from the song I just sang, “So, yes, I will share this room with you and you can have this heart to break.” I turn on the bench, facing him. “I didn’t say it back to you before, but I’m saying it to you now. I love you too, Tyson!”

“Are you really saying… Is this happening? I didn’t think… I mean I hoped…” He stands and pulls me up too. He squeezes me in a tight embrace.

I manage to croak out, “I want to be your boyfriend. Tonight, tomorrow, all summer and, if possible, forever. I know that 18-year-olds shouldn’t be talking about forever. But I know what I feel. I know what I want. And who’s to say it can’t work out?”

Tyson looks down at me and cocks an eyebrow.

“Okay, fine, I said it. But what the fuck did I know?”

He throws his head back and laughs out loud. “I love you so fucking much!” He put his hands on my shoulders, stares me right in the eyes with a burning intensity and says, “I will never not love you.”

And in that moment, I believe him. I stare straight back. “I want to try. I want to make this work.” I check the clock on the wall, it’s 11:45. “I still had fifteen minutes to spare.”

Tyson kisses me. I can’t know for sure, but I would bet anything that this is the deepest, longest, most passionate kiss in the more than 50-year history of the Chandler choir room. Well, at least top three. No, definitely number one. I score it a perfect ten. When we finally break apart, we look at each other and say in unison, “Let’s bounce.”

~~

Driving us back to my house he says to me, “I lied to you.”

I say nothing and my heart skips a beat.

“I told you that I hadn’t decided what college I’m going to. Well, I did accept at one school.”

Whew. I had no idea where he was going with this. I tease, “Well I know it’s not Berklee. You have zero musical aptitude.”

He scoffs, “Hey. I could play bass, remember?”

“That’s true.” I laugh, “You do rock the bass guitar.”

“No, not Berklee. I’ve accepted at Boston College.”

“Oh…” I stutter, “Oh my god!” My mouth is gaping open.

“I need you to understand, I’m not doing this just to be near you. I mean, you obviously are a huge draw, but it’s really a great school. They have a respected Art program and a competitive basketball team. My point is, I’m not settling for less. I’m not compromising my best possible future. Especially when being in Boston with you is that best future.”

I punch his arm, Layne-style, “Why didn’t you tell me this?”

He feigns injury, “Don’t hit the driver.” He takes in a deep breath. “I almost told you a few times, but I kept stopping myself. I wanted you to make the decision to be with me because of me. Because I was worth it, not knowing where we’d end up. I didn’t want to be an easy, convenient choice. I wanted to be worth the risk. Worth the fight. You had me scared fucking shitless right up to the end.”

“So, you were testing me. You know I’ve been through hell this past week.” I put my hand on his knee. “You are so worth the risk.” I give a little squeeze. I ask, “When did you accept?”

He turns his head and regards me sheepishly. “The day you told Troy about your Berklee acceptance letter.”

I can’t believe my ears. “Was that a coincidence?”

He says nothing.

“But we didn’t even know each other then. Not really.”

“Not yet,” he corrects.

I let that sink in as I again realize again that this meant something to him long before I had a clue.

I ask, “So, exactly how close will we be?”

He grins. “4.7 miles. A fifteen-minute train ride.”

Now I throw my head back and laugh out loud.

He says, “Be honest with me, if you feel that I’m crashing your party out there, you tell me. I’ll give you space. I don’t want to intrude in your college experience.”

“Intrude? Are you kidding me? Are you new here? In case I haven’t made it clear, you are my best possible future too. I expect to see you every weekend.”

He grins, “I can’t believe this is really happening.”

~~

He parks in front of my house and I say, “Please come in.”

He’s already out of the car.

We take off our tux Troyets and hang them on the back of kitchen chairs. I say, “I want you to stay over again.”

“I was hoping you would.”

“But this time, not on the couch.”

~~

We know we’re the only ones home, but we close my bedroom door anyway. I guess we don’t want the cat to be an audience. I turn the lock on the knob and spin on my heel, facing my gorgeous man. Forgetting that these are rented clothes, we practically rip them off of each other.

The room is dark, but my eyes are adjusting quickly. I can see his crystal blues staring back at me. I snake my hands inside his undershirt and…oh my god! I have seen Tyson Courtland shirtless three times before – once glistening in sweat and twice still damp from a shower – but this is my first time seeing him with my hands. My first touch.

I glide my fingers around above the waistband of his boxer briefs and his rippled muscles quiver. How can something so strong be so sensitive? His washboard abs are both hard and soft at the same time. If he’s even 2% body fat, I have no idea where that 2% can be. I pull his undershirt off. He really should be a model. Or maybe he is the sculpted finished product of a proud artist.

My hands and fingertips have not stopped their exploration. They make their way to his concave belly button and Tyson lets out a soft moan. I lower my hands to his hips and steer him backwards to my awaiting bed. When the backs of his knees bump into my mattress, he loses his balance and falls backwards, but his arms are around me, so I fall too – right on top of him. We roll around a little, laughing and somehow, we each find our hands entangled in each other’s hair. We stop laughing and start kissing. I gave the choir room kiss a perfect 10 earlier, so I have no idea how to rate this. It’s off the chart.

We roll some more and now I’m on my back. He’s hard against my thigh and I can actually feel him getting harder. I, meanwhile, am poking him in the stomach, but this time, not with my hands.

He pulls his head back for a moment and asks, “Are you ready? Are you sure you want this now? Just because it’s prom night doesn’t mean we have to-”

I press a finger to his lips. He obviously knows I’m responding and I’m physically ready. But being the sweet, kind, caring, generous man I’ve gotten to know over these 10 days, I’m not surprised that he’s checking in. Making sure. I feel so vulnerable right now under his weight. But I’ve also never felt safer or more loved. I nod and tell Tyson, “I’ve never wanted anything more.”

Suddenly, my undershirt is off. He has seen me shirtless a couple times before too, but right now, the way he looks at me, without even a touch, he makes me shiver. I’m a runner, but that’s it. I have no rumples or ridges. No pecs, no abs. I’m thin, but soft. Unimpressive to my own eyes. But how Tyson sees me…the hunger, the glint, his smile…he likes what he sees in me as much as I do in him.

He dives into kissing my neck and my whole body explodes in tingles. His mouth makes its way to my sternum and begins a slow, deliberate journey south. His hands stroke up and down my sides from my armpits to my hip bones. As my underwear strains against my erection, I realize that I’ve never been harder. Passed my sternum, his kissing and sucking mouth continues downward. His tongue plunges into my belly button and I bite my lower lip. He kisses and plays around my navel for a while and I almost can’t take the anticipation.

But just like with everything else these 10 days, we take it slow. Eventually, his hands grip my waistband and my underwear slides off. I am at full-mast and Tyson takes just a moment to enjoy the view. He shoots back up and kisses me hard before saying, “You are the most beautiful man alive!”

I flush and blush. I shiver and quiver.

Tyson slides back down and without warning, his hands are on me. My eyes bulge and I gasp, involuntarily. This is the first time in my life that someone besides me has touched me there. It’s shocking, jolting, exciting and way better than anything I ever imagined. He’s using both hands, one is working me, like an artist molding clay, while the other gently strokes up and down. I never imagined anything could feel like this. I moan in ecstasy.

At a little shy of 6 inches, I know I’m not huge down there, but Tyson seems anything but disappointed. He seems to enjoy what he’s doing to me as much as I love being on the receiving end. He makes eye contact with me for a brief moment, then returns his attention to my steel rod. Without warning, his gripping hands abandon me, but his warm, wet mouth takes me in. I cry out in elation. He has no trouble swallowing my whole length. I’ve imagined this moment, but it far surpasses any dream or fantasy I’ve ever had. I thought I already was harder than I’ve ever been, but I think I was wrong. I also may have just gained that last quarter of an inch that need to officially make it to 6 inches!

Tyson works me up and down and twists side to side. Sometimes he goes fast, sometimes slow. Sometimes aggressive, sometimes gentle. I don’t know exactly how long it’s been – 5 minutes or an hour – but it’s pretty irrelevant at this point. Tyson has been relentless and I’m ready to explode. I forewarn him by intensifying my moans, but he doesn’t let up. I grip the bedsheets, bend my knees and thrust my ass in the air. He keeps it going. My eyes roll back, my toes curl and I almost scream as the first orgasm of my life (that wasn’t self-inflicted) rocks my whole body. I feel like a blob of jelly as I pant and recover.

Just like he enjoyed doing those things to me, I can’t wait to get my hands (and mouth) on him. I push him down on his back and traverse the rocky road of his pecs and abs. When I pull off his underwear, he too is already at full attention. Tyson is 6 inches taller than me. I figured that everything would be proportionate…and it is. No, he doesn’t have a 12-inch monster – that would probably just scare me and make me duck for cover. No. He looks to be the perfect 7.5 that I’ve fantasized about.

But this isn’t just like in my dreams. Not at all. I don’t lust after Tyson. Okay, maybe I do a little come on… He’s Tyson Freaking Courtland. No. I love him. He’s perfect. He’s smart and funny and kind and sweet and generous… It almost doesn’t even matter that he’s ridiculously hot. Almost. Or that every part of him from his wavy blond hair to his gigantic basketball player feet is flawless.

I can’t believe I almost let this get away. I almost let him get away. I was almost an idiot, but I came to my senses with only minutes to spare. I’m human and I screw up, but not this time.

I turn my attention back to a flawless part of my flawless boyfriend. I can’t quite fit all of his manly length, but I use a hand to complete full coverage. Based on Tyson’s reaction, I think I do okay. By the time I’m done with him, he’s racked with shakes and quakes that last a surprisingly long time.

I crawl into his strong arms and we both fall asleep.

The end of our last day. And the beginning of all the others.

~~

For the second morning in a row, I wake up in Tyson’s strong arms, though today in my bed rather than on the couch. I feel like the weight of the world has been lifted and I just might be the happiest person on planet earth. I turn onto my back and lace my fingers together behind my head. I meet his eyes and we both have big stupid grins on our faces. I never thought I’d lose my virginity in high school, but as of sometime after midnight last night, I just snuck it in under the wire with one week to spare. I guess we both did. We’ve officially been deflowered. Our V-Cards have been swiped. If someone would have told me that this is where I’d be today just two weeks ago… This is so colossally, massively, monumentally fucking insane. Tyson Courtland is in my bed and I can’t stop smiling.

Tyson says to me, “So, that happened.”

“Twice.”

“Each!”

We both laugh.

I nuzzle my face into his chest, enjoying his scent. I say, “And it’s about to happen again.”

~~

As much as I never want to leave this bed, I begin to extract myself. He asks, “Where’re you going?”

“Meet me in the kitchen in 45 minutes.” I pull on a pair of socks, jeans and a t-shirt. “Forty-five minutes. Kitchen.”

He calls out, “Are we going for a run?”

Halfway down the stairs, I yell back over my shoulder, “Not today.”

I begin making eggs in a frame, for two. It’s the birthday that Tyson celebrates, so I will indulge in a bit of bread. I set the table and pour an orange juice for him and water for me. Just as the bacon is smelling like it’s done, Tyson walks in, still damp from a shower. In lieu of his tux or his smoky, dirty bonfire/fight clothes, he’s wearing a pair of my running shorts and my baggiest Bulls sweatshirt, that is not at all baggy on him, with sleeves that end only halfway down his forearms. His humongous feet are stretching out a pair of my Addidas crew socks. He looks like a twelve-year-old trying on last year’s clothes after a sudden growth spurt. I’m jealous of my own clothes right now because they are wrapped around Tyson Courtland’s body, and I am not. He’s ridiculously cute.

He looks around and says, “You’re spoiling me. We could have ordered in.”

“I wanted to do something special for your birthday.” I kiss him. “Happy birthday.”

“How did you-?” He pulls out a chair and sits. “Miranda told you.”

“Don’t be mad at her. She cares about you.”

“But it’s not even real. It’s dumb. Half-birthdays are for infants and toddlers.”

I take his hand, “It’s not dumb. How or when you celebrate your birthday is your choice. This is what your family decided for you and I think it’s awesome.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Besides, it’s super annoying when people have the nerve to celebrate their birthday too close to Christmas. How selfish can a person be?” I grin at him and he gives me one his trademark playful shoves grinning back.

I say, “Seriously, you get to do you and I get to do it with you.” I flush at that, “I mean…”

He laughs, “I know what you mean.” Then his smile fades, “So, you knew when you ‘decided’ last night? I didn’t want my birthday, where I go to college or anything else to influence your decision. I wanted you to…no, I needed you to want it enough on your own.”

“But I do though. I did not choose to be with you out of pity. I swear. I just finally woke up and extracted my head from my ass.” I set my fork down, “Okay, so I just found out about your birthday less than forty-eight hours ago and, well, let’s just say that a lot has happened in that time. I haven’t gone shopping and I honestly didn’t even know if we’d be together at this point.”

“You already gave me us. I’ll never need another birthday present again.”

“I didn’t say I didn’t get you anything. I just didn’t buy you anything. Your present is twofold.” I slide my chair around so I’m next to him rather than across from him. I put an arm around him. “You’ve been the leader, the driver in our relationship. Let’s be honest, you’ve done more for us than I have so far. It’s time for me to even things up a little.”

“That is so not true. You-”

I cut him off with a raised hand, “Stop. It is too and we both know it. So, I’ve bought nothing, but I hope you like your gifts anyway.”

“Well, I’m assuming that breakfast was one of them. That was above and beyond.”

“No. Well, okay, then your gift is threefold. Let’s go get your second gift.” I lead him downstairs to the music room and take a seat at the piano. “I finished my first song and I’m dedicating it to you. You are the first to hear it. Like us last night, your ears are about to lose their virginity.”

Tyson’s laugh makes my heart flutter.

“I call it For Now.” He pulls out his phone and records me as I play him the song.

When I’m done I say, “I know it’s no Vienna or And So It Goes.” I turn and look at Tyson. His eyes brim with tears.

He says, “You really need to keep a box of tissues in here.” Wiping his eyes on his (my) sleeve, Tyson says, “I’m at a loss for the right adjectives, but I know it’s my new favorite song and the best birthday present I’ve ever gotten, by like a million miles.” He takes my hand and leads me up the stairs.

I ask, “Where are we going?”

“When you get the best birthday present of your life, it’s only proper etiquette to reciprocate with an appropriate thank you.” He closes my door behind us.

Tyson’s half-birthday is my new favorite day.

~~

Another hour later, still lying in my bed I say, “And for your third present…” I take a deep breath. “Last night I made a commitment to you. This is for real. No pretending, no hiding, no sneaking around. Your third gift is that today, in a couple hours when my family gets home, I’m coming out to them. I am coming out and I’m telling them about us.”

Tyson looks shocked, “You don’t have to rush your plan for me. Are you ready? I’m okay with your family thinking we’re just friends for now.”

“And I love you for that, but I’m not okay with it. This isn’t just some grand gesture. I’ve given it a lot of thought. Yes, I had a plan, but you know what? My life has changed over the last ten days. It’s changed dramatically and now I need a new plan. Whether I’m ready or not, it’s the right thing to do for me, for my family and for us. And you know what? I actually am ready. Because of you, I’m ready.”

He pulls me into a kiss. I tell him, “Another perfect 10.” I rip myself away from him, “I need to take a shower.”

“Can I help?”

“Well, there are places I have trouble reaching.”

We both laugh. 24 hours ago, I was still a virgin. After that shower, I’ve now lost count.

~~

My parents and brothers get home around 1:00. Mom is the first to notice my injuries.

She grabs me by the elbow, “Jackson Pearson, what happened to you? What happened to your handsome face?”

I let out a sigh, “I was in a fight.”

“A fight? When? Where? Wasn’t this supposed to be prom weekend? Was it over a girl? What happened?”

Between Mom and Dad, I couldn’t even tell who was asking which of the questions. Justin and Josh both stay quiet.

I say, “Please, let’s all sit down. I’ll get to the fight in a minute, but there’s something else I have to tell you first.” All five of us sit on the living room couches. With all four pairs of eyes focused on me, it feels like the air has been sucked out of the room. It’s hardly been twelve hours since I decided that today would be the day that I would do this. Like with Danny and Layne five days ago, I have not prepared a speech. Unlike with Danny and Layne, my parents are extremely Catholic and traditional. All I can do is say the words and hope for the best. Two words. Just two little words and suddenly I won’t be the same person to them that I always was. Two words that, once said, can never be taken back. They can’t be unsaid. In anticipation, I feel my eyes welling up. I rip off the band aid. “I’m gay.”

Mom’s hands fly up to cover her mouth as she gasps and Dad rocks backwards a little, like my words physically assaulted him. These reactions are somewhere in the middle of the spectrum of possibilities I had imagined. Not the worst, not the best. I let the proclamation breathe for a moment. I’m not sure if I’m expected to add anything at this point or if I should just wait and respond to questions and reactions.

Mom lowers her hands and asks, “When did you first think that you were-”

Justin cuts her off, “Mom! It’s not something you think about yourself. It’s not a choice or a decision either. Jack has probably struggled with how and when to tell us this for some time.”

Mom looks at me, “Tell me, Jackson. Tell me everything.”

So I do. I go back 11 days and tell the whole story from the beginning.

Dad reaches out and touches my arm. There are tears in his eyes, “Your mother and I don’t live under a rock. The world is changing and despite you growing up, getting older and becoming independent, we will always be your parents. Whether you’re seventeen, eighteen or fifty, we will always love you and worry about you.”

As he pauses to wipe away a tear and I realize that Dad has a better prepared speech than I do.

He continues, “You’re our son and we only care that you’re safe and happy. We’re not upset or even disappointed that you’re gay, but we’d be lying if we didn’t admit that we’re a little afraid.”

I’m almost crying again.

“Your path is a harder one. You’ll face more obstacles, more roadblocks, more adversity…and apparently meaningless hate and violence sometimes.” He reaches over and angles my face to get a better look at my scrapes. “But you will always have our love and support.”

Dad looks to Mom and she takes in a ragged breath, “Jacob Gleason, you mean the world to us. My reaction a few minutes ago was probably not the reaction you hoped for. I know that and I’m sorry, but it was less what you said than the fact that you said it with your beautiful face all bloodied and bruised. For all the reasons your father mentioned, these are not the easiest words to hear. You see, parents envision certain things for their children, right or wrong that’s just what happens. But that’s for me to overcome, not you. Watching you grow into the fine young man you’ve become has been the privilege of my life. My son is gay. He always has been. It doesn’t change who he is, it’s part of who he is. The new thing, the change, is that we know now. So, really, there’s no difference.”

We find ourselves in one big group hug. I’m the middle of a Pearson Sandwich.

I wipe tears from my eyes before I clear my throat, “There’s one more thing.” I find I’m suddenly nervous again, “I have a boyfriend.” I slide my phone out of my pocket and text Tyson. “My partner for this whole inclusion week thing, it started out as an act but we became friends, then we got closer and it turned into something real. His name is Tyson Courtland and we are together. It’s not just for prom and we’re not just friends. We’re hoping to make our relationship work even while we’re away in college. It won’t be easy, but we think we’re worth trying for.” The doorbell rings. “I’d like you to meet him.”

He still has a black eye and bruised jaw that couldn’t be hidden. Mom looks at him and says, “So is this the boy you’ve been fighting with?”

I say, “No. Well, yes. Fighting ‘with’ or I guess ‘for’, not ‘against’. This is Tyson. My boyfriend.”

Tyson is in his element. He’s charming and social in a way that I could only hope to one day be.

Mom suggests that Tyson stays for dinner. I say, “It’s Tyson’s birthday and we have plans, but tomorrow is Memorial Day. Maybe he can come over for a bar-b-que and we could invite his sister too? Just make sure Dad does the cooking.” Everyone laughs.

Josh looks from Justin to me to Tyson and grins. “Hey, before you two go, how about some two-on-two basketball?”

They’re all eager to play, so I relent. “Only if we can play ping pong after.”

A chorus of “No’s”.

Josh is going to be the next basketball star at Chandler. He’ll pick up where Tyson leaves off. He’s grabbing his sneakers, “What are the teams?”

As if there were any other choice, I say, “I’m on Tyson’s team.” Hopefully I always will be.

But then again, what the fuck do I know?

End.