The following is a work of fiction, and any resemblance to real people or events is purely coincidental. The story contains graphic descriptions of sex between men, and anyone who is forbidden by law to read such material must exit the story now. This story is being posted to the Nifty Archive for the enjoyment of its readers. It may not be posted or distributed by any other medium without the written permission of its author.
My other works in the Nifty Archive include Unusual Christmas and Nick's Adventures, both in bisexual/high school, First Mate and Twin Spin in gay/incest, The Dancer and Call-Boy Journal in gay/encounters, and From Slave to Houseboy in gay/authoritarian.
E-mail comments are always welcome.
My First Year With Kevin
Chapter 8
The alarm clock went off at 6:30 the next morning, the time Kevin and I usually got up. I remembered it was Saturday and didn't have to go to school. Just as I was settling in for much more sleep, I remembered Frank, Denis, and I were supposed to play golf that morning.
Oh, shit, I thought.
We had a 7:30 tee time, so I hauled my ass out of bed. Kevin was nice and warm, and I wanted to stay there with him. Why did we have to play so fucking early, I wondered. Still, I got into the shower, pissed as I washed my hair, and used Kevin's method of shaving in the shower without a mirror. It took me a little longer than it would have with a mirror, but it was great not to have to dry myself and then shave.
I met Denis and Frank as they were coming out of their area of the house.
"You don't look all that chipper this morning, Matt," Frank said. "Did that boy of mine keep you up till all hours?"
"Let's just drink some coffee, okay," I said, and they both laughed.
My morning on the course with Denis and Frank was good. I was very tired, but I shot a decent score, and they were both very complimentary.
"It looks like we might have a golfer on our hands, here," Frank said.
I didn't pursue that remark, but at lunch it came up again.
"How late did you guys stay up last night," Frank asked.
"Frank!" Denis said.
"Shut up and listen to where I'm going," Frank responded.
"It was well after two, I guess. I don't know exactly."
"The reason I asked, Matt, was not to pry but to evaluate your golf game. You must have had no more than four hours' sleep last night."
"Yeah, I guess," I said. The waiter deposited my sandwich just then, and I wasn't all that interested in anything but it.
"You played a hell of a game of golf this morning, and on only four hours' sleep. And I'm sure last night wasn't completely alcohol-free."
I grinned when he said that. "How did today's game compare with your usual game. When you're well-rested, I mean?"
"I was about five points off," I responded.
"Now do you see where I'm going," Frank asked Denis.
"Yeah. Fascinating."
"What," I asked, between bites of my sandwich.
"Well, you seem to be a natural golfer to me," Denis said. "I'm sure you could make the team at Harvard, just as Kevin could make the football team there. Only they really don't give athletic scholarships."
"Jesus, Dad," I said.
"Denis," he reminded me.
"Jesus, Denis. Give me a break. I've had a headache since I woke up. I didn't want to get out of bed with Kevin, and now you're laying this on me?"
"I'm sorry if this is too much for you, Matt," Frank said, "but you and Kevin have to think about college. You're both outstanding students, and you're both outstanding athletes. In different sports, of course. We're just planting seeds." Neither one of them had touched their lunches at that point, but I had already finished my ruben-on-rye and my french fries. "Can I order dessert," I asked.
They laughed, but I wanted some of the chocolate cream cake I had seen on the menu.
"Of course," Frank said. He got the attention of our waitress and told her his son would like a piece of chocolate cream cake.
Wow, I thought. He referred to me as his son. Damn.
That was the first of many Saturday mornings on the golf course that fall. Eventually, I convinced them that a later tee time would be better, even if it was harder to get early ones.
Kevin was up, of course, when we got home around two o'clock. He was on the patio, naked, reading a novel for his English course. The dads decided they wanted naps, so they went inside, leaving me with Kevin.
"How'd it go," he asked.
"I won," I said. "My score was in the low 90's."
"Cool, man. I just woke up about an hour ago."
"You sorry-ass load," I said.
"Ain't nothing sorry about my ass, as I think you know," he said.
I laughed.
"What do you want to do," he asked me.
"I wouldn't mind taking a nap myself," I said. "You kept my ass up late last night."
"Yeah, dude. I believe your exact words were, 'I'll evaluate the experience after it occurs,' when you said you wanted me to fuck you. So. How was it?"
"Fuck you. You know how it was."
"No, I don't, Matt. Tell me. Did I live up to your expectations? Was I a stud? I know I made you come, but was it a really good come?"
"Shut the fuck up. 'Yes' to all of the above. And you know it."
"You're kind of testy this afternoon. Go take a nap."
I was embarrassed by my bitchy mood, but I figured Kevin was right about my needing sleep.
I woke up at four o'clock or so, and Kevin was in the room with me on the computer.
"Hey, Babe."
"Hey, Babe," he said in reply. He was obviously preoccupied.
"What the hell are you doing," I asked.
"I'm looking for that damn Web site with us on it."
"I've got it bookmarked," I said. "Go to the bookmarked site that says 'us.'"
He must have done it because in a moment he said, "Oh, yes. That's it."
"You like," I asked.
"Yes, I like," he said, "especially the pictures of you."
That was a really nice thing for him to say, especially because the best pictures on there were of him.
"Have I told you recently I love you?"
"No, you haven't, asshole."
"Is that how you think of me? As merely an asshole for your to fuck." I was teasing him, and he knew it, but it sounded like the bitchy me from before my nap.
"Pretty much," he said.
"Good," I said, "'cause that's how I think of you, too."
He laughed hard at that. "Yeah, right," he said. "I fucking know better, Mathew. I know you love me, and you know I love you. Can't nothing change that, bro."
Damn. I was overtaken by emotion at that point. I knew he loved me, but I hadn't heard that in a while.
"Get your ass over here right now," I ordered. And we made hard, sweaty love.
When we were finished, Kevin asked me what I wanted to do that night.
"How about a traditional date," I said.
"Like what?"
"Like dinner and a movie."
"That sounds pretty good. Can we hold hands during the movie," he asked, trying to be cute.
"If you're good, but we'll see."
"I promise to be good, Maffhew," he said in an imitation little-boy voice.
"In that case, I might even let you sit in my lap."
"Ooooooooh, wow. Will you let me taste your lollypop," he said, taking my dick into his hand.
"You'll have to be extra good to get some lollypop, but it's a possibility."
"Uuuuuuu, I can't wait." Then, in a few seconds, "Let's go shoot some hoops." He grabbed my hand and pulled me upright. "Come on," he said.
Shooting hoops, to Kevin, meant shooting hoops naked that afternoon. He had absolutely no sense of modesty at all that I could tell, and I was slowly getting used to that. While we were playing, first just random shooting and then some one-on-one, his dick kept flopping up and down every time he moved fast or took a shot. It was more than a little distracting. After a while, that much physical stimulation to it made him rock hard, but we played on without so much as a comment from either of us. A verbal comment, that is. My personal comment was to get rock hard from just looking at him. We played that way for close to an hour, and I was very out of breath and covered with sweat when we finally took a rest.
"You want to swim," he asked.
"Sure," I said. "It's so fucking hot I'm about to die."
"Get used to it, Babe. It stays hot here well into November or later."
We didn't fool around much in the pool. Instead, we just swam a little, and Kevin did some dives off the diving board. The water had cooled us both off, so we were only about half-hard at that point.
"I didn't know you could dive like that. That's pretty damn good," I said.
"Thanks. Why don't you try some?"
"I've never done anything more than a straight dive off the end. I don't even know how to bounce the board."
"Well, let me teach you," he said.
Kevin was a very methodical and patient teacher. He first told me what to do, then he demonstrated it in kind of slow motion, and then he had me do it. I managed to do a single flip, and I was elated.
"Way to go, man. You're learning. If you're serious about diving, I can teach you more."
"I wonder what time it is," I asked.
"I don't know, but it's probably later than we think it is. We've been out here a while."
We both got out of the pool, and Kevin went into the big party hall and got us both towels from the locker room. We dried off, and he took mine to put it away with his. I had planned to wrap it around my waist to go upstairs, but that wasn't an option, apparently. We had two young gay men in their middle-to-late twenties who worked for us as "houseboys" (their term, not ours; they didn't want to be called "maids," and I couldn't blame them) who cleaned up every Tuesday and Friday. Kevin said they also came in more often if Frank and Denis were entertaining, and they always worked their parties. They took care of any and all laundry, including cum-stained sheets and towels. I had met them, of course, and I wondered what they thought about all the semen K and I were pumping out.
We went up to our bathroom and showered and shaved together. I actually didn't shave again because I didn't need to, but Kevin hadn't shaved since Thursday morning, and he really need to shave very badly. It was a tradition at Colton that senior football players never shaved on game day, which had been the day before, so his beard growth was pretty heavy since it had started with his last shave on Thursday morning.
Frank and Denis were in the den having drinks when we went down. We told them where we were going, and they said they were going out later, too. It was a dinner party they were invited to, and they had to wear dinner jackets.
"What's a dinner jacket," I asked, in my naivete.
They explained it was a white formal coat that they wore with black tuxedo pants, a bow tie, studs, cufflinks, and a cummerbund. It was basically a hot-weather equivalent of a tux. When they said that, I knew what they were talking about because some guys had worn them to the junior-senior prom at my old school the year before.
"Have a good time, boys," Frank said.
"Yes, sir," Kevin responded. "Y'all have a good time, too. See you tomorrow."
With that we left.
We went to a place called Copeland's that wasn't really far from our house. Al Copeland, the originator of Popeye's Fried Chicken, had five or six places like that one around the city. It was crowded, but Kevin knew the host, so we got in pretty quickly. The waiter, who was a flaming queen, if ever I'd seen one, recited the night's specials. His personal favorite was the crawfish, but he just knew that everything was fabulous. He took our drink orders, and I ordered a bourbon and 7-Up. Kevin ordered a Bombay martini, on the rocks.
"Why do some gay guys act like that," I asked, when the waiter left the table.
"They just do, that's all. I don't know."
"You certainly don't act like that. Do I?"
Kevin appeared to consider the question thoughtfully. "Yeah, you do."
"Are you shitting me," I said, probably louder than I should have.
"Yeah," he said, just as thoughtfully. "I am."
"You asshole," I said, and that time I knew it was too loud.
He started laughing so hard he made the water in my glass spill a little. I'm sure my face was red, and I smiled at a lady who looked over at us.
"Why do you do shit like that to me," I said in a much lower voice.
"Because I can. Because you leave yourself open for it. Because you are so fucking cute when you react that way."
"But I was serious, Kev. I trust you to tell me the truth."
"Oh, Jesus Christ, Matt, you know damn fucking well you don't act effeminate in the least. I know that guy can't help it, but that kind of stereotypes all gay guys and it makes it harder for us to be honest about who we are. You were put off by that, weren't you?"
"Yes, I was. Weren't you?"
"Not really. I'm not attracted to guys like that, but Frank and Denis have a couple of junior partners who are very straight and who act like that. Being effeminate is something I don't understand, but I know that most of the gay guys I've known haven't been and some straight guys I know are. Maybe we can ask about it when he comes back. I'll ask him, if you're not embarrassed."
"If. you. say. a. fucking. word. about. that., I'll. kick. your. balls. off. under. the. table." I used my most emphatic tone, and I pointed at him after every word. I didn't know why I was in such a pissy mood, but I had been that way all day. Maybe it was lack of sleep. Maybe I was just in a pissy mood, but I knew Kevin didn't deserve the way I was acting.
"Calm down. Don't get your panties in a wad," he said, imitating our waiter. "I was just teasing."
After he said that, I felt dumb as shit. I knew perfectly well Kevin would never embarrass that guy or me by asking about that, and I was embarrassed for reacting the way I did. After a few moments of silence, I said,
"I'm so sorry, man. I should know you better than that."
"Well, we're still getting to know one another, and now you'll know in the future how to take comments like that. No hard feelings here." He reached across the table and took my hand in both of his. I let it linger for a moment, but then I pulled mine back.
"Did I just embarrass you by taking your hand," he asked.
I put my hand to my face, finger above lip. I didn't look at him.
"I did, didn't I? Well, I'm sorry if I did, but I just had it to do at that moment."
"That's okay," I mumbled.
"I can tell it's not okay. There's some stuff you and I have to work out, if we're going to be partners."
"If," I asked.
"Since we are partners, I should have said."
"No, let's get back to the 'if.'" God, why couldn't I let it rest?
"Look, I'm totally in love with you, as I know you are with me. But face it, man. We're both pretty desirable, and there are hundreds of guys in this city, maybe thousands, who wouldn't kick either one of us out of their beds. If we're going to stay partners, best friends, lovers, whatever you want to call it, we have to know each others' limits. I would cheerfully stand up in this place right now and tell all these people I'm gay and you're my lover, if I thought it would please you. But I know it wouldn't. I've had two gay parents for a long time, and you haven't. I'm a lot more comfortable with being gay than you seem to be. And I respect that. I just have to learn the limits, is all. And sometimes I might go too far. I hope you'll remember this and not get pissed off at me if I show affection for you at times and in places you'd prefer I didn't. And I hope you'll tell me about those times and places when, and if, it happens. That's all I'm asking."
I felt tears well up in my eyes, but I did everything possible not to cry. I knew Kevin spoke from his heart, and I knew he was right. I knew he loved me with all his heart, just as I loved him. Then it suddenly occurred to me.
"Is this all about last night," I asked.
"Last night? What the fuck are you talking about?"
"Are you jealous because I let Todd blow me?"
He paused and lit a cigarette. He exhaled the smoke slowly, and I knew he was thinking.
"Who double fucking dared you to bet him?"
"You did," I responded.
"Who initiated all that sex at sex camp this summer with all those other guys?"
"You did."
"Matt, if I thought you were in love with Todd, I'd say to you right now, 'I love you. I want the best for you. Be happy with him.' I know what that was all about, and I'd have done the same thing in a heartbeat. Hell, I encouraged it. No, this is not about last night. It's about us learning about one another and what we like and don't like. Who we are, really, and who we aren't."
I didn't say anything for a few moments. I lit up, too, and exhaled slowly, just like Kevin had done. I wanted to say what was right, what I really felt.
"There's an old song," I said, "called 'You Make Me So Very Happy, I'm So Glad You Came Into My Life.' That's how I feel right now about you."
"That's not the title; that's the first line, but, if we weren't here right now, I'd sing it to you because I feel exactly the same way." Then, in whispered singing, with surprisingly good voice, he sang that line to me.
"You know you're going to make me cry, don't you?"
"You won't embarrass me if you do, and it might make you feel better."
"I won't. I've got to get that shit under control." I felt a tear drip down my cheek. Kevin reached over with his napkin and whiped it off my face. That little act of kindness made me cry more, and I got up and went to the men's room to finish crying and to blow my nose. I was deliriously happy, so why was I crying?
When I came out of the stall, who should I find at one of the sinks but our waiter. He looked at me and said,
"Lovers' spat?"
"Just the opposite, dude. Lovers' love."
He grinned and slapped me on the ass as I turned to leave.
When I sat back down, Kevin asked me if I felt better.
"God, I love you. You make me so very happy, I'm so glad you came into my life."
He reached over and put his hand on mine, and that time I didn't pull away. We stared into each others' eyes for a long time without talking, and, before we knew it, the waiter was back at the table.
"By the way, my name is Kyle. I don't think I told y'all that before. I've brought you guys four appetizers the chef is trying out. I wish you would eat them and let me know what you think. They're on the house, of course. And so are these drinks. Compliments of the chef."
He placed four incredible-looking dishes of food on the table and fresh drinks for each of us. We thanked him, of course, and proceeded to gobble. I told Kevin what had happened in the men's room, and he just smiled. He knew as well as I did that Kyle was helping us celebrate our love.
The rest of the meal was delicious, and Kyle couldn't do enough for us. We finished with dessert and coffee, and then Kyle delivered the bill. It was only seventy-five dollars, which struck me as very inexpensive, considering all we had had to eat. Kevin paid for it with his American Express card, and I noticed he added a fifty-dollar tip for Kyle. It was a whole lot more than the usual 15 percent that was the New Orleans standard, and Kevin did it because Kyle not only took care of us, he liked us and understood us.
We went to the movie next and just barely got there for the last feature. We decided we couldn't eat any more, so we skipped the popcorn and cokes that I loved to get at movie theaters. The show was pretty good, and Kevin and I held hands.
On the way out, we ran into Todd Anderson and a man who looked to be forty or forty-five. I assumed he was Todd's dad, but he introduced him as his friend.
"Damn, Todd, I thought you'd be hustling your ass off tonight," I said.
"Well, I did that since about ten this morning, and I made a pretty good bit. But after what you guys helped me do last night, I've got the month covered, and it's only the second week. I decided to take the night off."
We exchanged small talk for a couple of minutes, and, finally, the friend asked if we wanted to go to his house for a drink.
"Maybe another time," Kevin said. "I'm pretty tired, and Mr. Golfer Man, here, has been up since 7:30."
"Okay," Todd said. "But let's all plan to get together soon. Night guys." We shook hands all around and took off for home.
"Are you real tired, Babe," I asked, when we got into his car.
"No, but I'm so fucking horny I can't wait to get you home so you can turn me every which way but loose." With that, he kissed me quickly.
It was a little after eleven when we got home, and Kevin rushed me upstairs.
"I want you to fuck the ever-loving shit out of my ass tonight, okay?"
"Sure, Babe," I said. "By the way, did you shit today?"
He laughed hard, and then he grabbed me around the waist and kissed me. It was the kind of kiss people reserve for special moments, and that night had been one of those for us. Our love-making was special, too, and I did give Kevin all I had.
We woke up fairly early the next morning; around nine o'clock. We lay in bed for a little while, kissing and caressing, but, finally, our need to piss got us up. We stood side by side at the urinal and let the waters flow.
Then we hopped into the shower, shaved, and got dressed for the day. During the summer, Kevin and I had never gone to church on Sunday, but I assumed that was just his personal vacation ritual. Since it was Sunday morning, I asked him about that.
"Do we belong to a church," I asked.
"Yep. We're Episcopalians," he responded.
"Do we ever go to church?"
"What, do you want to?"
"Not especially," I replied. "My mom and I are Episcopalians, too, and so is my step-dad, so we pretty much always went to church on Sunday morning."
"Well, if you want to go, I'll go with you," he said.
"No, that's okay," I said. "Besides, it always bores the shit out of me."
He laughed.
"We go on Christmas, Easter, and a few other times a year, but not today. Sunday is supposed to be a day of rest, and going to church is work, man. That ain't rest."
I laughed when he said that. He grinned at the irony, too.
We read the very hefty Times-Picayune, the New Orleans paper, and then we started in on the New York Times, which we had delivered every Sunday. Kevin and I each had our own copy of the Times-Picayune, but we shared the New York Times. I was starting to get into reading the daily paper, and I was learning a lot from reading it. He and I were both nude on the patio, and we had a pot of coffee, plugged into the patio floor, on the table with us.
Around ten, Frank came out in just briefs.
After the usual good-morning stuff, Frank asked, "How was your evening? Did y'all have a good time."
I was quick to answer. "I had one of the best times of my life. Maybe, the best time."
"Wow," was all Frank said. Then he looked at Kevin and grinned. Kevin just shrugged, and Frank laughed hard.
Denis came out around 9:15, and, like us, he was naked.
"Well, I guess I'm overdressed for this occasion," Frank said, as he took off his briefs. He sniffed them and put them up to Denis' nose. Denis slapped his hand away hard enough to make the briefs fly across the patio.
"Pervert," Denis said.
All four of us laughed hard.
We kept a decent supply of stuff like sausage biscuits, Egg-McMuffins, and other "fast food" breakfast items in the freezer. By 9:30 Kevin had a large plateful of them on the table. He poured more coffee for everybody, and we all ate.
After we ate, Kevin went over to the chinning bar that was on the side of the patio and did something like fifty chin-ups and thirty pull-ups. Then he did a bunch of ab crunches. He was slick with sweat when he finished, and he came over to the table and sat back down. He was so pumped, it looked like somebody had stuck an air hose up his ass. He lit up a cigarette and had another cup of coffee. That was his third, and the stuff was so strong I didn't know how he could get it down without lots of cream and sugar. The hot coffee made him sweat more. Everyone else was busy with their papers, so I was probably the only one who actually paid any attention to what he had done.
After finishing his smoke, he got up and dove into the pool. I counted his laps, and he did fifty-one. I was sure he intended to do fifty, but he must have miscounted. When he finished, he got out at the end away from us and shook himself off like a dog does when it gets wet. He was almost dry when he came back to the table.
"Hi, guys," he said. "What's going on?"
"You're making us tired," Frank said, deadpan, without looking up from the paper.
"You're just jealous of my energy," he said.
"You're right," Denis said, "but you're fucking wearing me out just knowing you're doing all that shit."
"Speaking of shit, I just took one in the pool again," he said. "I'm sorry, but I just couldn't hold it."
They both slammed down their papers and looked at him with fury in their eyes.
"Just kidding, guys," Kevin said, grinning.
"Again," I asked. I'm sure the shock of his having done that registered in my voice.
"He used to do that sometimes when he was younger-say, seventeen or so," Frank said.
"Aw, man. I was younger than that."
"Okay, fifteen, then. It was gross as hell. We made him drain and scrub the pool several times because of that stunt, but only after one or other or the both of us saw it floating by us when we were in the water."
"And they both beat me severely," Kevin said. "And I got hard, and they got hard, and we all came. It was fabulous."
"Really," I said. I was still new to that group, and I could believe almost anything where Kevin was concerned.
"Yeah, and I used to beg them to fuck me, but they wouldn't. They did let me suck them off, though."
Frank and Denis were both laughing hard, so I figured Kevin was just up to his teasing ways.
I looked at them suspiciously. Had I been taken in once again by my lover-boy?
"He's not telling the truth, is he," I asked.
Denis and Frank laughed harder.
"No, Matt, he's not," Denis said. "He did shit in the pool a few times, and we did make him clean it, but we have never touched him in anger or in anything but the ordinary way fathers touch their sons. Nobody got hard-well, maybe he did, but we didn't-and he's never touched either of us in a sexual way."
"Don't believe his bullshit," Frank said.
"Well, how am I supposed to know?"
"Watch his face," Frank said. "When he's teasing, the right corner of his mouth jerks up a little now and then. It's subtle, but it's a clue. It's actually better than a lie detector test, once you're used to watching for it."
I had actually noticed that but had assumed it was either a tick or my own imagination.
"You actually shit in the pool," I asked Kevin.
"Yeah," he said nonchalantly.
"God, that's gross," I said.
"Don't knock it till you've tried it," he said.
"But don't try it," Frank and Denis said loudly in unison. We all laughed.
We sat there a little longer. Kevin ate a second breakfast, Frank and Denis read the paper, and I thought. It was finally dawning on me, after three-and-a-half months, that Kevin was a prankster, a devil-in the cute sense of that term-and somebody I was totally and irresistibly in love with. He had pretty much grown up in an all-male environment, at home and at school, and he had a different sensibility than I did. He could be extremely affectionate, extremely physical, and extremely crude. I had no model to compare him to, and I wondered where all of that would lead. I thought back to "sex camp" and to some of the things he had done and had come up with for the rest of us to do. I had already followed him to places I never knew existed, and I thought, at that moment, I'd follow him anywhere.