This story involves sex between guys. If you are offended by that, you're too young, or you live where stories like this aren't allowed, please move on. In this story, the characters don't use condoms. In the real world, anybody who doesn't practice safe sex is a menace to himself and society. Don't be a menace. It's okay to print this story out or save it to a disc, but don't transfer it to another website or archive without my permission, please.
Thanks to TW for doing the beta reading here.
Lilperv76@yahoo.com From chapter 2:
Jason picked up the second envelope, the one that was bulging, fished around in it for a moment, pulled out a print, and handed it to me.
I gasped. There I was, being fucked by Seth. I was showing major wood, and I had this look of total bliss on my face.
"Mike, do you suppose you could put a look like that on my face?"
[MC: Mike Cronin; JK = Jason Kinsey; JC = Jim Cronin; SW = Seth Watkins]
Chapter 3
MC:
`Damn! I knew what Jason wanted. I just didn't know what to say. He'd saved my butt (yeah, yeah, bad word choice), and he'd saved my family from major trouble. And he HAD me. There was no way I could explain away that look on my face. But this was all happening much too fast. I wasn't sure I could give him the fucking he'd just asked for. I was straight, wasn't I? Just then a warm feeling began to radiate from my ass throughout my body when I thought of having Seth's or, I guess, any cock in there.
I must have waited too long to answer Jason.
He looked almost panicked when he said, "Uh, hey, Mike, I've obviously gone too far. I'd better just leave. Use those pix any way you want. They're all yours."
"No, Jase! Don't go, man. I'm sorry. You just took me by surprise. That picture took me by surprise. You haven't gone too far. Can you understand that I'm just confused right now? Couldn't we start with being friends and see what happens?"
A look of relief crossed Jason's face as he said, "Oh, yeah, sure. I realize I've just outed myself to you. If you still want to be my friend, I'd really like that."
We'd been standing all this time, and I gestured for him to sit. He took one end of the sofa, and I collapsed into a nearby chair.
"Jase, dude, what you've just done for me makes me your friend, for sure. It's just that, well . . . ."
He smiled at me as he said, "Hey, let me see if I've got it. You've always thought of yourself as straight, and now you're bothered by the fact that, along with all the mean stuff that bastard did to you, you actually liked some of it."
I had to admit he was right. "Damn, man, you are pretty sharp. That's exactly what's bothering me."
"Well, look, Mike, why don't we turn the tables on Seth, at least enough to neutralize him as a threat to your and your family? Then, when we get him out of the way, you can relax, work through all this new stuff you have to process, and we'll just be friends. No pressure, no expectations. Okay?"
I was beginning to see what I'd missed by not having this guy as a friend before. "Jason, I like that. I like it that you're saying `we.' I still don't understand why you're doing all of this? Especially since I managed to ignore you all through high school."
He looked embarrassed. "Well, I don't want to make you nervous or anything . . . ."
"Don't worry about that. Just tell me."
"Well, uh, it's like I've always admired you, wished I could be your friend, and, er . . ."
"Yeah? Go on."
"Oh, shit, Mike, you already know I'm gay. I've had the hots for you since I was in tenth grade!"
So much for "no pressure,"' I thought. "Look, Jase, like I said, I've got a pile of stuff to sort out about myself, but you're a great guy, and if youll be patient with me while I do that, I really want us to be friends."
"Cool. So, what's the plan for confronting Seth?"
"I'm a little worried. Do you think the pix of him, er . . . ." I guess I must have put my hand on my chest.
Jason chuckled. "Mike, it's okay. He was sucking your tits, man."
"I never even thought of them as tits. But, yeah, that's what he called them, and that's what he was doing."
Jason's eyes crinkled, but he didn't say anything.
"He said that was to make them bigger, more like a woman's."
"I could tell he was giving them a lot of attention, pinching and sucking. Did the clips hurt?"
"Yeah, but not as much as I thought they would."
"Did all that work?"
I could feel myself blushing under my tan. "My nips look awful, Jase, and I've got the clips on now, thinking Seth might come. Do you mind if I take `em off?"
"No, dude, get `em off!"
I pulled up my shirt and took off the clips. As I did, the blood rushed back, and they hurt like hell. I rubbed them as Jason loked on with obvious interest.
I decided I'd better get his mind off my bod. "Now, tell me something. Is it a gay thing to suck on another guy's nipples?"
He grinned. "How did it feel?"
"Fantastic! You know, I'd never thought about my nips as being erogenous, but it was a real turn on, even if it was Seth doing it."
"Does that answer your question?"
Well, dammit, I guessed it did. "Partly. But I'm wondering if he would have gone that far (sucking on `em) if he was just trying to make my pecs look like a woman's tits to humiliate me. I can't imagine doing that would be any fun for the guy doing the sucking."
Jason grinned again. "Don't knock it till you've tried it."
I was thinking about how much had happened in a couple of days. I wouldn't ever have believed I was having this conversation. Then I came back to the present moment.
"I guess the point is, all those pix of him fingering me, fucking me, sucking my nips, and especially his boner while he was sitting on my face, will be enough to make him back off in a hurry."
"I sure hope so, Mike, I sure hope so."
"Now, Jason, there's a good chance Seth could show up any minute. I don't think it would be good for him to find you here." I stood up and grabbed his hand. "Jase, you are a lifesaver. I don't know how to thank you." Then I remembered that I did know how he hoped I'd thank him and felt guilty. "Uh, that is, er . . . ."
He put his left hand on my shoulder. "Relax, Mike. We've already talked about that. We're friends, right. Buddies help out buddies. No strings."
I hugged him for longer than I'd ever hugged any male before. Then, with an awkward wave of his hand, he left.
JK:
Oh, God, he's so cute! I suppose I shouldn't use "cute" for a guy who's taller than I am, but he's just so . . . cute! Beautiful green eyes, black, curly hair, sort of a square face, but very boyish looking, even if he is a year older than me. He must work out, but he's not overly muscled. Nice abs, decent biceps, triceps, but not really big in the chest. He doesn't really have pecs that stick out. Oh, how I turned on as I got a look at those tits of his after Seth had worked them over. If things worked out right, maybe I could be the one sucking on them.
It was the greatest stroke of luck that I was in those woods behind his house and saw what was going on. I hated to see that turd Wilkins doing all those things to Mike, but it was hot, too. I didn't tell Mike I took out my cock and whacked off as I watched. I used my camera as a way of getting a close-up look at what was happening. I mean, here was this guy I'd had thousands of j.o. fantasies about for three years, naked, getting his tits tortured and sucked, sucking off another guy, eating out his ass, and finally getting screwed. How hot was that!
I was a little disappointed that he didn't accept my invitation right away. You know, the shameless way I asked him to fuck me. But, when I came to think about it, I realized that if Mike always thought of himself as straight, he needed time to work all this out. But there was no way that one pic I took of him lied. He was really into getting his ass plowed.
The problem is, he may not want to admit it. He's, what, nineteen, maybe? A year older than me. And he's always thought he was straight. This thing with Seth has opened more than his asshole. His eyes, too. I hope.
It will be sweet to be his friend for the summer and at State next year. But it's going to be tough, too, if he retreats back into a "straight" shell.
Oh, well, I guess I'll take whatever Mike is willing to give me.
JC:
I'd had a tiring two days. I'd had to fly down to the state capital the evening before, have a dinner meeting, stay overnight in a hotel, have a long meeting the next morning, fly back here, and spend the rest of the afternoon in the office catching up.
I knew Marta was away, so it would just be Mikey and me when I got home. I would offer to take him to dinner somewhere, his choice, but I really dreaded that. I just wanted to get out of my suit and into something comfortable and kick back.
As I drove home through rush-hour traffic, I was thinking about Mike, about what a great kid he was, how proud I was of him. I realized I didn't tell him that often enough, but it's hard for men to do. I decided to suck it up and take him someplace he'd like and spend some "quality time" with him. Maybe I'd get the chance to tell him how I felt about him.
When I pulled into the driveway, I pushed the button on the remote attached to the sun visor of the Lexus, and the garage door went up. I pulled in, grabbed my briefcase from the passenger seat, got out, pushed the button on the wall to put the door down, and went into the house. As soon as I stepped into the laundry, I could smell something wonderful. I wondered if Marta had come home unexpectedly.
Mike was in the kitchen. He'd set the kitchen table. He looked a little drawn somehow, as if he weren't feeling well.
I went over and gave him a hug. "Hi,guy. What's that wonderful aroma?" He tensed up when I hugged him.
"Mom left some frozen stuff for us, and this is a casserole. I've got it heating. I'm going to make us a salad."
He handed me a double old-fashioned glass with Talisker on ice.
"You go change, and we'll have dinner in about a half an hour."
"What's up, Mike? You in some kind of trouble?"
"I'm not the one who's in trouble, Dad. Now, go get changed. We can talk after dinner."
I wondered what he meant, but I was too tired to argue. I set my briefcase in the study, went upstairs, stripped out of my clothes, and took a quick shower. Then I pulled on a collared tee, khakis, and topsiders. I gave my hair a quick run-through with my fingers, picked up the Talisker, and went back downstairs.
Mike was puttering around with the salad, so I took a chair, turned it around, set my drink on the kitchen table, and sat down with my arms crossed on the back of the chair.
"I see you cut the grass. Lawn looks great. Thanks for doing that."
"No problem," was all he said. He seemed to be concentrating more on assembling the salad than the job required. He took two tumblers to the fridge door and ran cold water into them. He set a large bowl of salad on the table. He picked up an open can of Stroh's from the counter and took a swallow. Just then a timer went "bing!" Mike grabbed a pair of oven mitts, opened the oven door, and took out the casserole. He put it on a trivet on the kitchen table, took off the mitts, and said, "Let's eat."
I took a swig of my scotch, set the glass on the counter, and sat down. Mike sat, bowed his head, and I said a brief grace.
Buttering a slice of bread, I looked at Mike, who seemed nervous. "I had planned to take you out to dinner at someplace of your choosing, Mike. But I admit this is much nicer. I have had enough of restaurants in the last 24 hours. Your mom's casserole smells delicious. Let's dig in. And thanks for having this ready for me."
"It's okay," he said, taking another swallow of his beer.
I really dug into the bread, casserole, and salad. Mike seemed to be toying with his food, which was unusual, for he had always had a healthy appetite. In fact, I had often wondered how he could eat as much as he did and stay looking that great.
When we had finished, he said, "I don't think there's anything for dessert but ice cream. You want some?"
"No, thanks, Mike. I pigged out on the casserole."
"You want some coffee?"
"Yeah. If I don't, I'll be asleep hours before bedtime."
"Okay, I'll make some. Had a late night last night, did you?"
"Don't bother making coffee. I'll nuke some instant. And, no, I wasn't up really late. It's just that I've been on the go constantly since yesterday morning. Now, you're excused. I'll clean up the kitchen and make my coffee. Thanks for fixing dinner. It was just what your old man needed this evening."
He gave me a strange look and said, "When you finish here, come into the family room. I've got something to show you."
MC:
A little later, Dad came into the family room, sat down in his chair, and put a mug of coffee on the table beside it. He kicked off his topsiders and wiggled his bare toes. "Ah," he said, "it's good to be home." Turning to me, he asked, "Okay, Mike, what's up?"
"This," I said handing him the picture Seth had brought me the previous morning, the picture that caused me to take all that shit from Seth.
"Damn!" Dad said when he saw the picture. "Where did you get this?"
"Does that matter, Dad? That's you, isn't it? And that's a guy you're kissing isn't it? That's what matters. You're gay and you've got a man on the side? That's what fuckin' matters!"
"Mike, I demand to know where you got this!"
"Well, tough shit, Dad! I demand to know who that guy is and how long you've been playing around with him. If you're gay, why did you get married? Where did I come from? YOU demand? You DEMAND? Well, if you won't answer my questions, you can just go piss up a rope!'
He took a deep breath and put the picture on the coffee table between us. "Calm down, son. You're upset, and you have a right to be. I'm sorry I reacted the way I did. I can explain this. It's not what you think."
"Oh, my God, Dad. Listen to you! That's sounds like something out of a soap opera. I suppose you be trying to persuade me it's all perfectly innocent."
"In a way it is. I admit that I've kept a secret from you, but I want you to know that I have not in any way been unfaithful to your mother in the 22 years we've been married."
"You can look me in the eye with that picture lying on the table there and tell me that?"
"Yes, Mike, I can. Will you let me explain?"
"I hope to hell you can."
He drained his coffee mug and set it back down. "As I said, I have never been unfaithful to your mother. I made a commitment to her 22 years ago which I've kept and will continue to keep as long as we're both alive. I love her with all my heart. You, Mike, are the most beautiful result of that love."
"Yeah, right. How does that explain the picture?"
"Be patient, please. I'm coming to that, but it's not easy. Excuse me a minute." He went out to the kitchen and came back with another glass of scotch. That wasn't like him, because ordinarily he only had a drink or two before dinner and nothing afterward. But then admitting to your son you have a gay lover might require a drink for courage.
"The man in that picture is Darren. He was my roommate senior year in college. We were lovers. As you know, I went to law school after college, met your mother while I was studying law, and we were married. Darren went to the Southwest to do graduate work in architecture. We didn't correspond much after Marta and I were married, but he did tell me that after graduation he moved to La Jolla, where he became a member of a good firm. Later he wrote me that he had found a male partner.
He took a sip of his scotch and stared out the picture window at the lengthening shadows. "A few weeks ago at work I got a phone call. It was Darren. He said he was going to be in town briefly, just a few hours because he was changing planes at our airport on his way to Toronto. He asked if I'd see him. Of course, I said I would. Darren meant a lot to me, and I have always missed him."
My heart sank, but I didn't say anything.
"Don't get me wrong. I have never loved anyone the way I love your mother, Mike, but Darren was an important part of my life once, and I still love him. Anyway, I met him at the airport. He had a couple of hours between flights, so we drove to one of the more deserted sections of the municipal park system. We walked along the paths, sat on a picnic table, just talking and catching up, reminiscing about college days. Darren is very happy and very committed to his partner, Frank. When it came time to go back to the airport, we were about to get in the car. And we spontaneously moved into that kiss. I looked around first, and I would have sworn there was no one in sight. Whoever it was must have been hiding in the woods and must have had a very powerful lens."
I hadn't missed what he'd said, and I hadn't missed the irony of a photographer in the woods. "But you're gay, Dad?"
"Well, sort of."
"Oh, come on, counselor! How can you be sort of gay?"
He looked at me and nodded . . . in approval of my question, it seemed.
"You can be bisexual."
"What the fuck is that?"
He frowned at my language, but he didn't comment.
"I loved Darren. We had beautiful sex together. But I had had sex with women before I met Darren. While Darren and I were `together' we were faithful to each other. When we graduated, each of us knew his life plans didn't include the other, at least not right away, and we were realistic enough to understand that what we had probably wouldn't survive the separation. Then I met your mother and feel deeply in love with her. I am still deeply in love with her."
"So what happened? Did you just quit being gay?"
He looked at me, as if seeking understanding. "It's really hard to talk about this with you, Mike. But I'm doing my best here. I don't think anyone can `quit' being gay. When I see a good looking man or woman, I'm likely to get a hardon. Of all the women who've given you a hardon, how many have you screwed?
I had to smile, despite my mood. "Can I take the fifth on that one, Dad? But I see your point. We find lots of people attractive, but we don't usually have sex with them."
He smiled back. "Yes. Exactly. There is, or used to be, a phrase in the marriage vows about `renouncing all others.' Your mom and I did that, and we've kept that vow. What you see in that picture was a kind of recollection of what Darren and I once had together, not something either of us wants now. A way of saying that was all lovely, but it's all over . . . and has been for 24 years."
I thought about that for a while.
"Dad, I think I've been a shit. It's going to take a while to get used to the idea that you're gay, uh, bisexual. But I believe you're telling me the truth, and I'm sorry I came on so strong."
"Yes, Mike, your attitude was immoderate, shall we say? But I'm not sure I would have reacted differently if the situation had been reversed. Now, will you tell me where you got that picture? Obviously it could cause all sorts of trouble if it were to get into the wrong hands."
"Dad, I'm going to ask you to trust me here. I think I can control this situation and assure you that this picture won't get into the wrong hands. We can destroy this print, for sure, but I don't think any other copies of it are likely to show up."
"I wish you'd tell me more about this, Mike. You realize that my career is on the line."
"What about your marriage, Dad? What would Mom say if she saw this picture?"
"Oh, she knew Darren was coming. She knows about the relationship Darren and I had. I even told her about the kiss."
"And she's cool with that?" Call me skeptical, but I couldn't believe it.
He chuckled. "Yeah, she thinks she converted me from being gay to straight, and I've never told her otherwise. And so far as she and I are concerned, I'm as straight as they come. If that picture were to get out, however, no amount of explaining would convince the bigots out there that I'm not gay. And I don't think this county is ready for a gay DA yet."
I chuckled. "The Gay DA. Sounds like the name of a tv show on HBO."
He grinned. "So you are convinced that you can control this situation?"
"Hey, Dad, I wouldn't play around with your career. I can't explain where I got this or how I'm going to take care of it. Just leave it to me, okay?"
He sighed. "There comes a time when a man's got to trust his son. And this is that time, Mikey. You aren't going to do anything illegal, are you?"
I wasn't sure precisely what constituted blackmail in our state, but I assured my dad that I wouldn't do anything illegal.
I wanted to ask him a million questions about being gay, or bi, as he kept putting it, but I was too uncertain about my feelings to talk about it with anyone. I wondered if it was hereditary. I thought I had learned from something we'd read in school that it isn't. But I was also seriously worried about my own sexuality.
I thanked him for explaining things to me and for being so frank. He gave me a big hug. It felt good. His body was comforting, and he smelled god. I went upstairs to my room. I had to think about how I would face Seth the next morning.
At first I just wanted to get Seth to back off, to let my family and me alone. But the longer I thought about it, the more I thought he should have at least a little taste of his own medicine. Taste? Aha! I didn't want to be a cruel as he'd been, but that gave me an idea.
I called Jason. When he answered, I asked if he had a video camera with a zoom lens.
"Yeah, Mike, but it wouldn't be much good from those woods, if that's what you are thinking."
"How about from a window above our patio?"
He chuckled. "Oh, I could get some nice close-ups from there."
"Are you free tomorrow morning?"
"Yeah. When do you want me?"
"Well, I don't think Seth is a particularly early riser. Could you be here by 9:30 or so, just to make sure?"
"No prob, Mike. I'm looking forward to this. See ya."
SW:
I woke up with a stiffie, of course. I didn't whack off, though, because I wanted to save it for Cronin. I hadn't decided whether I wanted to spray my jizz on his face or make him swallow it. Might just do both while I was there. I have to admit, thinking about being able to use Mikey boy any way I wanted to kept me hard through my shower and breakfast. There was a moment when I had to duck back through a doorway so Maria, our cook, wouldn't see me with a big old tent in my cargoes. I managed to get myself sitting down at the breakfast table, and left, after eating, while she was out of the room.
It was about 10:00 when I pulled into the Cronin's driveway. I rang the doorbell, and, when no one answered, I went around the house figuring Mike was on the patio.
He was. And he wasn't naked. He had on a golf shirt and Bermudas. He was barefoot.
"You're in trouble bitchboy," I said. "You'll have to be punished for not following orders."
"I don't think so, Watkins," he said. He wasn't smiling or anything, but he seemed to be amused.
"Look, pussy, I still have that picture of your old man, and you better believe I'll use it if you don't get stripped right now. And you better have those tit clips on, or I'll have your ass in a sling!"
"Ya think?"
"Oh, yeah, cocksucker, I KNOW!"
He picked up a picture off an umbrella table and handed it to me. It showed me with my finger up his ass. You couldn't tell it was him, but my face was clear, and I was grinning. Where did that come from? From the angle, it must have been taken back there in the woods. Fuck! I couldn't let anybody see that picture. My old man would shit a brick! And Mom would have a hizzy fit, for sure. Shit! How did he get a pic like that? And I thought I had been so smart, planning everything to the last detail.
"Look, pussyboy, you're the one on his hands and knees in that pic. You're the one with the finger up his ass. Even if it doesn't show your face. You think this is going to get me to go away? Not on your life!" I was faking it, but, what the hell, it might just work.
"In that case, Watkins, take a look at these." He handed me more pictures. There were a couple of me sucking his tits. The angle was just right to show my profile, no mistake about who it was. And then he handed me a couple more of me fucking him. You couldn't see his face, but I had my head thrown back, my mouth open, looking like I was really into it. (Well, I was, dammit.) Worst of all was the one where he was eating out my ass. His face, of course, didn't show, but there I was again, big boner showing, and I was obviously getting off on what he was doing. I was fucked. So to speak. Time for damage control.
"Damn, Mike, how'd you happen to have a photographer hidden away back in the woods? Whoever it was does good work. Guess this changes things, doesn't it?"
He grinned a little and said, "I'd say it does, yes."
"Well, look, guy. I'll leave you that pic of your old man. You'll have to deal with that and him, but I promise you I won't let anyone see copies of it. It looks as if we're at a standoff."
"Not so fast. I've shown my dad the picture, and he doesn't think it's so damaging as you seem to. And just think what it would do to your reputation as a macho jock in town and at State, just think what it would do to your dad's reputation if copies of all these faggy pics showed up in the media. You know, Seth, I really never realized you were gay. You came here calling me all those names, but who instigated all this? Who sucked my nipples? Who cornholed who? Who's the fudgepacker here, huh?"
"Well, Mike, I, uh . . ."
"Yeah. I think you had better take off your clothes."
I swallowed. "Listen, Mike, I . . ."
He picked up the pictures and waved them at me. "I can spread these all over campus in the fall. Copies to Bart and your mom. Copies to the local media? What about that, huh?"
The guy had guts. I could still make things pretty awkward for his old man, but was it worth it? I had an image to protect, both for myself and for my dad. Taking a deep breath, I pulled my tee off.
Mike sort of glanced up for a moment, I don't know why, and then came over and began to pinch my nipples.
"How does that feel, Seth? Are they sensitive? What if I do it harder?"
He dug his fingernails into my nipples and pulled. Now I've done that lots of times, so it didn't hurt much, but it gave me an instant boner. I think I groaned.
"Ha! I thought so. All that macho stuff, all those nasty terms you applied to me, were just a cover-up, weren't they, Watkins? You're the gay one here. You like it when I play with your titties, don't you?"
He squeezed again, and I couldn't help moaning.
"You are a hypocrite, along with everything else. You ARE queer, aren't you? "
"No, Mike, buddy, I'm not! It's just that. . ."
"Oh, horse shit! You can save it. Just drop your shorts, turn around, and show me your asshole."
Well, he had the marbles now, so I did what he wanted me to. And just the thought of what he wanted me to do gave me a boner. I know I blushed all over as I bent and pulled my buns apart so he could get the look he wanted.
"You're lucky, Watkins. If I were the fag you've been calling me, I'd poke that hole without any lube at all. But that's just an asshole. A place for shit to come out of. Straighten up and don't show me that disgusting sight again!"
"What do you want from me, Mike? I guess I've been pretty much a bastard to you, haven't I?"
"Bastard doesn't begin to cover it, Watkins. Now, I've got one more thing for you to do, and then you can get the hell out of here."
That sounded good. If he wanted me to suck him off, I wouldn't have minded doing that at all, though I would've had to pretend to be grossed out and humiliated.
"You know what? I'll bet you didn't jack off this morning. I'll bet you decided to save it for me. So you probably have a pretty good load in there by now. So, I want you to sit here on this chaise and jack off."
I realized that he was asking me to sit just where he had sat two days before when I made him jack into his hand. I thought I knew what was coming. And was I ever turned on by the thought. Still I pretended to be humbled, but it was SO hot.
"You're getting off to this, you bastard. I thought only a gay could do what you did to me the last two days. So, be my guest. Whack that pole of yours while I watch. But before you start, look up there."
He pointed up to a window on the second floor of his house. The window was open, and there was some guy with a video camera. So I was putting on a show. Well, the still pix were bad enough. This couldn't make things much worse. And all this was making me SO hot. I spat on my hand and began to rub it up and down my shaft. By this time I was oozing a lot of precum, so I smeared that all over my throbbing cock. I began stroking slowly, and it felt incredibly good. I never thought I was an exhibitionist, but knowing that Cronin was there watching and the guy upstairs was making a video made this one of the best whack session I'd ever had. I closed my eyes and moved my fist up and down my cock slowly. Might as well give `em a show. After a while, though, I couldn't help myself, and my hand began to move more and more rapidly up and down my hot shaft. Soon there was that feeling in my balls, and I knew I was coming.
Mike must have been able to tell, too, `cause he said, "Catch it all, Watkins. Every bit."
And then I came, just shooting and shooting. I did my best to get it all in my hand, but some of it ran over my fingers and down onto my belly.
"Okay, you arrogant bastard," Mike said, "Lap it up. We'll see who's the fag here. And be sure to lick your fingers and look up at the camera when you do."
I'd tasted my own cum many times, so that wasn't the problem for me it had been for Mike the other day. I lapped it up, licked my fingers, and wiped the bit off my belly and licked that, too.
When I was done, I looked at him to see what he wanted next.
"Now, get your clothes on and get out. You have my word that these pictures will never be made public unless . . ."
"Yeah, yeah, I know. Unless that pic of your old man frenching that other dude shows up someplace."
He looked for a minute like he wanted to throw up, but he said, "Yes. That's the deal. Okay?"
"Yeah, Mike, okay." I offered him my hand.
He kept his hands at his sides. `You are SUCH a hypocrite, Watkins. Just get out of here. And if you ever see me on campus at State, cross the street. Pretend you don't know me."
"Sorry you feel that way, Mikey. We might have been buds."
"You've GOT to be kidding. Go away. Get out!"
I pulled on my shorts, picked up my tee, and left.
JK:
As soon as Seth went around the side of the house, I pulled the cassette out of the recorder and headed downstairs. Mike was in the kitchen, coming toward me, when I got down there. We high fived.
"Did you get all that?"
"Oh, yeah, where's your VCR? Let's have a look."
He took me into their family room, took the cassette from me, and put into the VCR. He rewound it and set it for play. Then he put it on pause.
"You wanna beer or something?"
"Beer before lunch? Well, why not? Sure, let's have a beer to celebrate!"
Mike went to the fridge and grabbed a couple of cans of Stroh's, brought them back to the family room, and handed me one. We sat together on the sofa. He picked up the remote and pushed "Play." My camcorder has a great lens, and the video was perfect. I had left the audio turned off because I didn't think I could pick up what they were saying very clearly, and that worked fine. Since the viewer couldn't hear what they were saying to each other, it looked as if Seth and some other guy (Mike and I had been careful that he wouldn't face the camera and I wouldn't be filming even when he was in profile to me) were having sexy fun and games. Mike stayed out of the shots pretty much. But there was Seth getting his titties played with by some unidentified dark-haired guy, throwing wood the whole time. Then he turned around and showed his asshole to the camera. And then he sat on the chaise and really seemed to zone out while he was jerking himself off. Then he shot his load. Every bit of it. No sign of coercion and every sign he was enjoying it all.
"Oh, Jase, that's priceless. Can we make a copy and send it to Seth?" That should keep him on the straight and narrow for a long time."
"Well, Mike," I chuckled, "I don't now about the `straight' part. But I don't think he'll bother you any more."
Mike grinned, took a big sip of his beer, and put his hand on my thigh! I damned near came up off the sofa. I mean, I would normally have loved it if it hadn't been so unexpected.
MC:
I felt both exhausted and giddy. In the last two days I had learned that my dad was bisexual. I had been forced to strip, have my nipples tortured, jack off in front of Seth, lick his ass, eat my own cum, suck him off, and take his cock up the ass twice.
Now he was gone. And I had a new friend. I thought I was going to find Jason a great new friend. But I still had a lot of stuff to work through. I felt wrung out, but I also felt like giggling.
When I put my hand on Jason's leg, it was just intended as a friendly touch before asking him if he'd like some lunch. He jumped when I touched him, and I quickly pulled my hand away. I realized how he might have taken that as the wrong kind of signal and was sorry I had done it. I decided not to call attention to what I'd done by apologizing.
"Jase, what say we go have lunch? My treat."
"Oh, sure, Mike, that would be great. But you don't have to pay."
"I think I'm going to insist, buddy. After all you've done for me, it's going to take me a long time to pay you back."
He looked like he was going to say something, but he didn't. He stood up. "Can I use your john for a minute? And I'll drive, since you're paying."
I showed him where the downstairs lav was and waited while he went.
We went to BK. My dad has always teased me about my appetite, but I was amazed at how much food my little friend could put away. He had lots of questions about the University and what classes were like, whether he should pledge a fraternity, live in a dorm or off campus, that sort of thing. I was looking for a guy to share my apartment and asked if he'd be interested. His eyes lit up as he asked if I really meant it. I told him I wouldn't have offered if I hadn't.
When we got back to our place, Jason said, "Well, I suppose I had better be going. Thanks for lunch, Mike."
I said, "Do you have to go, Jase? Why don't you come in for a while? I want to ask you some things."
"Oh, are you interviewing me more about sharing your apartment?" he asked, grinning.
"No, not really. Or not the way you think." I opened the front door and stood back so he could go in. I couldn't help noticing how his tight little butt moved under his loose shorts as I followed him into the family room.
"Jase, ya need anything?" I asked.
"Uh, no, Mike, thanks. I'm cool."
"Why don't we got up to my room?"
He looked puzzled. "Okay."
I'd had a lot to think about in the last couple of days. So you'll understand what happens next, I'll just remind you that I'd learned that my dad was bisexual and that some of the things Seth did to me or made me do turned me on. I had also acquired a great new friend, a friend I trusted, who just happened to be gay. And I was curious.
When we got there, Jason looked around at my room, which looks just like every other college guy's room, I guess, but he said "Cool room."
To which I replied, "Jase, kiss me!"
He looked stunned. "You mean it?"
I grinned at him. "I've never been kissed by a guy before, and I want to know what it's like. You game?"
He grinned back. "Am I!"
He put his hands behind my head, pulled me toward him and rubbed the tip of his nose against the tip of mine. That was SO erotic. And not at all what I had expected him to do. Then he lightly brushed his lips over mine, from side to side. At that moment, my cock began to fill. The next thing he did was to gently insert his tongue between my lips. Well, I sucked it right into my mouth, and we spent a very hot several minutes devouring each other, exploring each other.
When we separated, panting, I said, "Damn, Jase. I didn't know it would be like that."
He began unfastening the button on my shorts. "There's a lot more I can show you. I sort of get the impression that you're interested." He gave me this evil little grin.
I lifted my arms up for him to pull off my shirt. He took it off me and laid it on the bed.
I take it that's a `yes'!" I nodded.
"Mike, you are gonna love this. There's just one problem."
"What's that?"
"Since we both like taking it up the ass, who's gonna be the top?"
[To be continued.]