Finding Family

Published on Jan 10, 2023

Gay

CHAPTER 21

This is a fictional story dealing with love and consensual sexual activities between males.  If you are not of legal age, reside in an area where viewing such material is illegal, or are offended by homosexuality and/or homosexual themes, leave this site now.

The author retains all rights to this story.  No reproductions or links to other sites are allowed without the permission of the author.

Note: Thanks to Tim for feedback on the draft chapters.  I owe special thanks to Robb and Rock for doing the final proofreading and catching all those silly little errors I missed.

Send comments to: jeff_allen15@hotmail.com

Finding Family

by Jeff Allen

CHAPTER 21

PARKER'S PERSPECTIVE:

I didn't sleep very much the two nights after running into Karl and his boyfriend at the hardware store.  I needed to decide what to do about my relationship with Robert.  My mind kept telling me to do one thing, and my heart kept telling me to do another.  The two parts of my psyche were continually arguing with one another.  Finally, I knew what to do.

Tyrone Jackson was having a New Year's Eve party.  Robert, Elena, and I were the chaperones.  Elena knocked herself out fixing food for the party, and the kids seemed to have a great time eating, dancing, playing pool, and talking.  Everyone was happy to have Ryan Ladd back in town.  I noticed a couple of the girls eyeing him appreciatively.  The boy had matured in the six months he'd been in military school.  He could easily have passed for one of the seniors instead of a sophomore.  I realized there were going to be a lot of telephone calls to the house from girls wanting to talk with Ryan.

Most of the kids left shortly after midnight.  The guys that stayed over included all of my crew plus Jonathan Pittman, Bobby Whittaker, Elijah Stuart, and Ske Takamachi.  They all pitched in to clean up the house and the kitchen from the party.  Elena excused herself and went to bed.  The guys retired to Tyrone's wing of the house while Robert and I went into his area.

Robert poured us each a glass of scotch.

When he leaned over to kiss me I said, "We need to talk."

He leaned back and looked at me.  "I'm not going to like this, am I?"

"No, I don't think you will, but I need to say it." 

I took a deep breath.  "You have become my best friend, and I've tried to think of you as a lover and a partner, but I can't do it.  I don't know if I'll ever be able to do it."

I could see the hurt and sadness reflected in his dark eyes.  "Are you still in love with Karl Henson?"

"Yes."

"Then there's nothing I can do except let you go."  He sighed.  "I'm not surprised.  I had hoped you were over him, but there was always a part of you I could never reach.  I was afraid it was the part of you that held on to him."

"Robert, I'm sorry.  I know this hurts you."

"I think the hurt is better now than six months or a year from now, no?  Perhaps we are destined to be friends and not partners.  Happy New Year, Parker.  I'll see you in the morning."  He got up and headed into his room.

"Robert, I..."

"No!"  He turned and faced me.  "Don't say anything more.  I will be all right, but right now I need to be alone."  He turned and went into his room and closed the door.

I felt like the biggest heel in the world.

JONATHAN'S PERSPECTIVE:

I think my parents are two of the world's biggest hypocrites.  Out in public they're so lovey dovey with each other you'd think they were still on their honeymoon, but at home they're always yelling at one another.  They rarely speak to each other except to yell.  And I can tell you they don't use nice language when they're yelling.

I learned a lesson about hypocrisy when I was about eight or nine.  I got mad at one of my friends and called him a "fucking bastard."  His mother heard it and called my mother.  Next thing I knew I was inside our house being yelled at by my mother for using swear words.

I told her that I'd heard her call daddy a fucking bastard lots of times.  That was another mistake.  First she told me that she would never use such words.  That was a lie.  I'd heard her.  Second she told me that I wasn't to use those words in public.  Third she sent me to bed without any supper after remarking that "...maybe we should have adopted some other little boy instead of you."

I knew right then that they really didn't love me.  At least not like I wanted to be loved.  But still, I thought if I was always a good boy, they would come to love me.  I was wrong.

I remember another time when I was in junior high.  We were having dinner together, which was a rare event.  My dad said something that pissed off mother.  She threw her gin and tonic in his face and stormed out of the dining room while shouting at my dad, "If you were a real man instead of being an infertile mule, maybe we would have been able to have a real kid instead of picking up a charity case at the local orphanage."

My dad stormed out of the house and didn't come back until late that night.

I just sat there at the dining room table with my head down trying to keep the tears from flowing down my cheeks.  After a long time, I cleaned up the table, threw out all the food, washed the dishes, and went to bed.  As I passed my parents' bedroom, I noticed that my mother was passed out on the bed with the gin bottle in her hands.

That was the last time we ever ate a meal together at home.  If we were out for some business or church social event, my parents acted like we were the families from "Leave it to Beaver" or "Father Knows Best."  I played along with it because I wanted them to love me, but sometimes the strain made me almost physically ill.

I spent enough time over at other kids' houses to know that my family wasn't typical.  At times I hoped that my parents really would take me back to the orphanage so I'd have a chance to be adopted by people who really wanted children.  I never told my parents that because another part of me was afraid, if I said it, they would take me back.

The tensions between my parents reached a new plateau in early November of my senior year in high school almost a year after we moved to Carterville.  Yeah, they were always yelling and swearing at one another, but suddenly things were even worse.  My mother made a few crude remarks that made me think that my dad had or was having an affair with another woman.  I guess I wouldn't have blamed him if he had, but believe me it made it even more unpleasant to be anywhere in the house when they were going after one another verbally.  At the same time, they kept up the lovey dovey act out in public.  I never said anything to any of my friends because I figured they wouldn't have believed me.

It wasn't until after we moved to Carterville in my junior year and I got to know Trey, TJ, Isaac, and Coach Arnold that I began to understand that people could make their own families.  Every time I was out at Coach Arnold's house it was obvious that all the guys truly loved one another and treated each other like real brothers should.  Meal times out at Coach's were special for me.  The best meals with my parents were silent affairs because no one was yelling or cursing.  Meals at Coach's were noisy affairs that reinforced the bond between people gathered around the table.  I also liked being out there because at least some of the guys, maybe even Coach, were gay, and I was more and more sure that I was gay too. 

I had been so embarrassed during our tour of colleges when I'd humped Isaac in his sleep and then did the same thing to Coach the next night, but they never made fun of me for it.  They were all such great guys.  My father thought all "fags" were interior designers or hair dressers.  Trey, TJ, Tyrone, and Isaac were as manly as they could be, but they were gay.

I began to rethink my mental image of gays...and my own self image.

My thinking turned into action at Tyrone's party on New Year's Eve.

It was a fun party.  Lots of kids from school were there.  Coach Arnold, Tyrone's father, and his Aunt Elena chaperoned so there was a lot of food and soft drink, but no liquor.  I was there by myself.  I'd broken up with my latest girlfriend just after Christmas.  We'd dated for a couple of months.  We'd kissed and done some light making out on our dates.  She was ready for more intense affection, and I just wasn't turned on by her.  It hadn't been a pleasant break-up.  We all watched TV to see the big ball come down in Times Square to signal the start of the New Year.  All the couples started kissing and hugging at midnight.  Those of us without dates were left to just sort of stand around or give each other one of those chaste side-to-side shoulder hugs that minimized body contact. 

Suddenly Rashod Roberts pulled me into a hallway.  I was so surprised I didn't offer any resistance.

I was even more surprised when he pulled my head down and kissed me on the lips! 

It was a quick kiss, but he did push his tongue into my mouth.  He pulled away and hurried back into the room where the rest of the kids were assembled leaving me weak-kneed, breathless, and hard as a rock leaning against the wall in the hallway.  It took several minutes for the bulge in the front of my pants to go down enough to rejoin the rest of the group.

I was in a daze through the rest of the party which thankfully didn't last too long.  Kids started making their good-byes, thanking Tyrone for the party and thanking Coach Arnold, Mr. Marquez, and Elena Castro for chaperoning.  I was one of the guys who had been invited to spend the night so I didn't have to go anywhere. 

Every time I tried to catch Rashod's eye, he'd look away.  What was the reason for the kiss?  Did it mean Rashod was gay?  I knew he'd been kind of kicked out of his house and was living with Coach and the guys, but no one really knew the reason his dad was so pissed at him.  I was pretty sure my parents would throw me out of the house if they found out I was gay.  Maybe that's what happened to Rashod.  His father found out he was gay and kicked him out.  Did that kiss mean he liked me?  He was a really good looking kid for a freshman, and I knew he had a darn big dick from seeing him in the showers at school.  Jeez, just thinking about him naked in the showers caused my own dick to start to get hard again.  I knew I needed to talk with him that night, but he was avoiding me.

When everyone had gone home except the guys who were staying over night we all pitched in to help clean up the place and do the dishes.  It was close to two in the morning when guys started to drop off to sleep.  Of course Tyrone and Isaac were in Tyrone's room.  Trey, TJ, and Ryan crashed in the other bedroom.  That left Rashod, Bobby Whittaker, Elijah Stuart, Ske Takamachi, and me in the big sitting area between the two bedrooms.  We rolled out our sleeping bags, stripped down to our underwear, and climbed into the bags.  Bobby and Elijah had grabbed the two couches leaving Ske, Rashod and me on the floor.

I lay there until I heard steady breathing from most corners of the room.  I climbed out of my bag and crawled over to Rashod whose bag was spread out about five feet away from mine.  I touched his arm, and his eyes opened. 

I leaned down and whispered. "Follow me."

We went out of Tyrone's wing of the big house down into the dressing area leading to the pool, gym, and hot tub.  I straddled one of the dressing benches and faced Rashod.  He straddled the same bench and sat facing me.  We were separated by a good three feet. 

"I need to know why you kissed me."

He sat looking down at the bench in front of him.  "I...I'm...really sorry.  I shouldn't have done that.  I just saw everyone else kissing at midnight, and I grabbed you.  I...I won't do it again."

"It's okay, Rashod.  I liked it."

He looked up for the first time.  "You did?"

"Yes, I did.  Rashod, are you gay?"

He looked back down at the bench.  "Yes."

"That's okay.  I think I am too."

His eyes came back up to meet mine, and he leaned closer to me.  The fly of his boxer shorts gapped open, and I could see some of his black curly pubic hair. 

"Does that mean I can kiss you again?"

I nodded.

He moved closer.  The bulge in his boxers was larger than it had been just a second or two before.  I felt my own dick inflating.  He leaned in, and our lips met.  He used his teeth to gently nibble on my lower lip before slipping his tongue into my mouth.  I reached out and pulled him into an embrace.  Since we had been straddling the bench and facing each other that brought our crotches into direct contact.  I could feel his big hard dick pressing against me.  I knew he could feel mine doing the same thing to him. 

The kiss lasted a long time.  We moved our hands over the other's body.  He was smaller than me but solidly muscled and compact.  I moved my hand down to grasp his erection.  He gasped.  It was so thick I could hardly wrap my fingers around it.  I thought about trying to get that monster down my throat.  I wasn't sure that I'd be able to do it.

He squeezed my dick through the thin fabric of my boxers.  It was my turn to take in a sharp breath.  I felt my dick pulse, and I knew I was leaking precum like crazy.  He put his hand inside my boxers and ran his finger along the length of my hard on.  My cock pulsed in reply.  He pulled away from our kiss and ran his mouth and tongue down my jaw line and neck to my chest, stomach, and then pulled the fabric of my underwear away and closed his mouth around the head of my dick.  Man, I thought I'd cum right then.

But it only got better.  He pulled my foreskin back with his hand and began running his tongue around the head of my dick.  I leaned back on the bench, and let him work his magic on my dick.

When I felt my nuts start to draw up, I sat up, pulled his mouth off my dick and kissed him again.  I leaned forward forcing him to straighten up.  I then repeated what he'd done to me by tracing my mouth and tongue down his smooth dark skin until I was able to nibble on his erection through the cloth of his boxers.

"Stand up."

I pulled his boxers down to give me free access to his dick.  His foreskin was pulled all the way back off the head of his dick.  A drop of precum glistened at the opening.  I picked it off with my tongue.  The flavor was mild, almost nutty.  I opened my mouth and tried to take his thick tool into my mouth.  I could only get the first three or four inches into my mouth, but I did what I could with those few inches.  I used one hand to jack his dick as I sucked on him and the other to move his heavy testicles around in their dark sac.

If I'd ever had any doubt about being gay, the taste of Rashod's dick took care of it.  I was gay.  No doubt about it.  I loved sucking dick!

Rashod's body started to stiffen.  I felt his thigh muscles flex, his balls begin to draw up in his scrotum, and his dick start to pulse.  My mouth was flooded with his cum.  I gagged a little as the first shot hit the back of my throat.  I swallowed.  The flavor was just a little stronger than his precum.  I swallowed as much as I could, but I felt some of his ball juice running out the corners of my mouth.

I kept my mouth around his dick until his body began to relax.  When I released his cock and sat up, he smiled down at me.

"That was fantastic.  Now it's my turn."

He pushed me back with one hand.  He hooked his fingers on the waist band of my tented boxers and pulled them down.  I lifted my legs, and he pulled the boxers completely off.  He sat back down straddling the bench and leaned in to take my rod into his mouth.

He pulled back my foreskin and starting tonguing and licking my shaft.  When his mouth closed around it, I knew I was close.  It only took a few bobs of his head on my dick before I was shooting the biggest load of my entire life into his hot mouth.

We lay for a while with me on my back and him lying on top of me with his face close to my deflating cock.  Finally he spoke.

"Jonathan, I hope we can do this some more.  I don't want this to be a one time thing."

"Me too."

"I'd like to stay here with you, but we'd better get back up to Tyrone's rooms before anyone wakes up."

We pulled our underwear back on, and after another kiss that got both of us hard as a rock again we headed back up to our sleeping bags.

We got stopped short at the doorway out of the dressing area.  There were splashes of white liquid on the floor by the door.  Rashod and I looked at each other. 

He bent down, put a finger into one of the larger drops, and then brought his finger up to his nose.  "It's semen, and it must be fresh because it's still real liquid."

I looked back into the dressing room and realized that whoever had ejaculated on the floor at that spot had a perfect view of the bench Rashod and I had used for our hot sex session.  He saw the same thing.

"Oh, shit."

He put his hand on my arm.  "Listen, if anything is said just tell them that I forced you into it.  Tyrone and the guys at Coach's house all know I'm gay.  I'll bet that Elijah, Ske, and Bobby have some suspicions."

"No.  I'm not ready to come out yet, and I'm pretty sure my folks would kick me out of the house, but if word gets around about this, I'm not going to blame it all on you."

"Thanks."  He kissed me again quickly before heading toward our sleeping area.  "Wait a couple of minutes before coming back up.  I'll talk to you tomorrow."

When Rashod was gone, I got some toilet paper and cleaned up the drying cum from the floor.  I didn't want someone else to see it and start asking questions.

We all slept late the next morning, and we really weren't too wide awake even after we'd had something to eat.  Elijah took Ske back into town because Ske had to help at his parents' restaurant.  Bobby stayed for a while longer before saying good-bye.  No one said anything about seeing Rashod and me down in the dressing area.  I wondered who it had been.  I also realized that they must have found the scene between Rashod and me hot enough that they'd jerked off.  That might mean they wouldn't spill the beans to everyone at school.  Maybe whoever it was would say something to either Rashod or me later.

**********

Rashod and I saw a lot of each other over the rest of the winter and into the late spring.  We didn't have any of the same classes `cause I was a senior and he was a freshman, but we were able to run together in the mornings with the team and study together after school at the study hall.  Once soccer practice started we spent more time together on the team.  We were also able to spend most weekends together out at Coach's house. 

Rashod told the other guys out there that he and I were fooling around.  According to Rashod, they insisted that he have me come out to their place.  I ended up spending most weekend nights there.  Before the addition to Coach's house was completed in late April, Trey, TJ, and Ryan slept in one bedroom.  Isaac and Rashod were in the other.  About half the time, Isaac was over at Tyrone's so that meant Rashod and I had a little privacy, and believe me we took advantage of it.  

Because my parents didn't seem to care where I was as long as I made it back in time to make our family appearance at the Methodist church with them on Sunday, it was never a problem for me to spend the weekends with Rashod.  After all, the important thing was to keep putting on the show that we were a perfect little family.

The first weekend I spent out at Coach's after Rashod and I got together, Coach gave us "the talk" after dinner.  Basically, he told us we were free to do anything sexually as long as both of us wanted to do it, and he wanted us to be safe.  He'd put several tubes of lube and boxes of condoms in the medicine cabinet upstairs.  Everyone used the lube, but the condoms were mostly used by Rashod and me.  Trey and TJ didn't fool around much with each other, especially with Ryan in the same room.  Isaac and Tyrone didn't use them because, while they might mess around with other guys, they only did anal sex with one another.  They asked us if we wanted to play around a couple of times, but we never got beyond jacking off and a little mutual oral action.  We always ended up back with our own partners before we climaxed.

I wasn't too sure about anal sex at first, but Rashod was anxious to try it.  He loved to cuddle and kiss and suck dick, but he really liked being fucked.  By the third time I spent the weekend out there I was using three or four condoms per weekend.  I tried being the bottom a couple of times, but Rashod's dick was so thick around that I could never relax enough to let him in.  He didn't seem to mind that I wasn't able to reciprocate.

I really liked Rashod, and my experiences with him sure erased any lingering doubts I had about being gay.  I was gay.  No question.

But more than the times with Rashod and the great sex we had together, I really liked being included with Coach's Cubs, as Isaac called us.  Those guys were brothers in the best sense of the word.  Sure there were some arguments, but they all genuinely cared for each other.  There was always a lot of physical affection displayed out at Coach's.  Lot's of hugging and shoulder rubbing.  It wasn't uncommon for one of the guys to give another a quick peck on the cheek or even on the mouth.  Ryan, the only straight guy in the crowd, was just as physically demonstrative as anyone else. 

Of course the guys were more reserved out in public, at school, or when other guys from school or the team were out at the house.  However, the genuine affection and high regard they had for each other was still evident.  After growing up in a home that was marked by indifference at best and open hostility most of the time, my experiences with those guys were soul-cleansing.  Life wasn't pointless.  People could be kind to one another instead of being hypocritical and hateful like my parents.  What's more, when I was with the guys I knew they liked me and they wanted me there.

(To be continued)

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Many of the characters who play parts in this story were previously introduced in either "When Love Comes" (last posted in the College section on Sept. 6, 2001) or "Love of a Lifetime" (last posted in the College section on May 19, 2003). While not necessary, readers may find it useful to read the two earlier stories posted on this site.  Both previous stories are also posted at www.crvboy.com.

Send comments to: jeff_allen15@hotmail.com

Next: Chapter 22


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