This story is a work of fiction. Any resemblances to any person, place, or written works are purely coincidental. It may contain consensual sex between young men. Do not read if you find that objectionable or if it is illegal for you to view this content for whatever the reason.
Copyright 2009 Jade. All Rights Reserved. Do not post, copy, or use this story in any manner without my permission.
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In the Shadows of Our Lives Part 1 - On Broken Wings IX ~ Worlds Away [Change Comes Hard] ~
"And what are the Four Amigo's up to tonight? Or was that the Four Musketeers," Nat asks us in the cafeteria.
Kevin is a stray kid that just moved here from Buffalo and Tim latched on to. He's the fourth. He and I both have blank looks so Tim answers for us, "Dunno. Cheesedick is working Fridays at the mall now so we can't do jack till he gets done there. After that there's that bush party Stacey's been talking about but by the time we get there I'm sure it'll be busted up. Why don't you guys sneak out of the b-day party and meet us at McRaunchies around 10?"
Neil scoffs, "Dude, it's only my dad's birthday. The party'll be over at 8. Dinner, cake, presents, c-ya!"
"Yeah, but aren't we going to the Astro's game with your family for his birthday? First game he's seeing at the new stadium. It's baseball related, you should at least remember that," Tania curtly reminds Neil.
"Aw crap, I forgot about that. We're so screwed for the night unless the game ends early." Neil corrects himself.
Me? I'm sitting here pretending to not pay attention as Neil and Tania start a new round of bickering because I'm sitting beside Tim and across the table from Kevin. His eyes are very piercing. They unnerve me. It's like he knows something. I can't look him in the eyes. I try to stare at his eyebrows in turn rather than his eyes but he doesn't back down. So my mind is a lot more on what's up with him anyway than it is on tonight's plans. I want to just drop it out there that I have something to do after work but that will raise questions.
I do have plans with Chris to go with Allister and Bobbie to catch a pre-screening of Leonardo DiCaprio's The Beach. Allister works at AMC and their staff always get to pre-screen new movies as a staff function with friends and family late at night. Unfortunately I can't just float out there that I have plans tonight with my boyfriend and his friends. Instead I just sit silently and nod and smile appropriately because I've already lied to my friends about tonight and figure I don't need to dig myself in any deeper. Now how do I tell Tim he's on his own tonight and I'm bailing out on our standing Friday night date and sleepover. Err, I mean plutonic guys night.
Kevin sticks me on the hook, "Well it'll have to be the two amigo's tonight because I have to help my dad rip up the old carpet and fix the floor so when the delivery arrives tomorrow we can put down the new carpet and under pad we got for our family room. He bribed me with beer so I plan on getting drunk while he works."
I take the opportunity, "Yeah, since Deanna moved in with Scott permanently in Austin to open a new store she's not around so much. We're all doing a movie night tonight. I have to go home right after work, Sorry."
Kevin asks me, "Isn't she the one you're working for tonight?"
Umm, think quick. I try to keep my lie as simple as possible, "Yeah, I'm taking her Friday shifts closing the store. Family, can't live with them, can't live without them."
"Well don't forget the grad committee meeting right after school tonight guys," Tania reminds us after giving Neil a hard time. She's like mother goose or something to us; showing us what we should see for ourselves and such.
We collectively groan. Why on a Friday afternoon? Who the hell plans these things and forgets we're teenagers and all hate school for our own secret reasons. Having to be there late on a Friday is torture, plain and simple.
My afternoon drags. The highlight comes in the last block of the day in the form of a surprise 500 word essay in English class where we get to choose two out of 10 topics to compare. You get 10 magazine articles to pick from and read and then argue in the form of an essay. It's a re-test because the class average was so poor on the last one. In fact the articles are the same and for those needing to upgrade their mark they can even choose the same article again. I got a 94% on that one so I get to do this one for bonus marks but have to choose different articles.
This time I choose to compare our current class system to that of 100 years ago at first, but it's weak. I quickly manage to change it to a comparison of entertainment now and before the technological revolution which is one of the other articles. Counting off the number of words in the margin as I write I finish with 502 words, well within the teacher's rule of keeping within 5% plus or minus. I totally forget about the meeting until the final announcements come on over the PA system that always signal the end of the school week.
Paul Hunter is at the meeting, he must have come from gym class judging by what he is wearing. Are straight boys that dumb that they actually wear what they do? Sheer basketball shorts over boxers. After catching Tania Nat and Stacey all scope out Paul's crotch even if I were straight I would now know that little thin material defines rather than hides things like a penis sitting in front of balls. I even catch Neil and Tim taking a quick peek at what drew the girl's attention. Is it a straight thing that they want to show girls what they have and risk cock-obsessed boys like me seeing? Is it a male thing where they want to show other guys they have a nice one? Or is he just dumb and unaware that every straight girl and gay boy is stealing glances at his junk? Thanks Paul, now I have a rough measurement to fantasize over! How about you come home with me and I'll be your sex slave? Pretty please with a condom on it? I mean pretty please with a cherry on top? As in `our cherry', Paul?
I act like a child by intentionally keeping my back to him as much as I humanly can. At one point I think he's quite aware of this because when I do look his way his unibrow knits together. Normally I would find this adorable on him, just like his sideburns, but I keep my resolve to pretend like he doesn't exist and that I don't want him. Now I just have to get the outline of his dick in his gym shorts out of my mind. Has it grown or did I just never notice? It wasn't that big just flopping around last time I got a chance to check was it? His dick isn't huge in its flaccid state, but definitely worthy of trying to catch glimpses of. Oh, wait, he doesn't exist to me.
The meeting gets underway and is all business. Basically it's just to give us the information on what is expected for our given duties and we're told that a sizing is planned next Tuesday for the tuxedos that the school is paying for. All the guys on the committee having roles that put them in the view of people are to be in tuxedos this year. Neil doesn't have to worry because he's working behind the scenes with Tania. Tim and I are ushers during the ceremony along with Train and Barry Hershey. We still need two more because Daniel and my former friend, Michael, are no longer on the committee.
Great, Paul volunteers. Fuck, even better, he's gets chosen as another. Now I get to suffer through watching him get sized for a tux. I hope I get sized before him so I can split. I don't need any more jerk off material of him in my head. The other guys are fine; I've seen Tim a lot, and a lot of Tim at that! Clearly Tim is my Atlas or David. He's a sculpture of everything a man should be. Barry's ugly in my books, Train is absolutely monstrous and therefore unattractive to me, and the last guy, Matt Shaw doesn't fit my turn-on list either. He's lanky and hairy and besides that I'm just not attracted to him in the least.
As we get up to leave I walk past Paul and I catch a listen to his CD through his earphones. I'm positive it's Pink Floyd's The Wall. Yup, definitely Hey You or Comfortably Numb off of the second disk. I also see a CD jewel case under his discman, Def Leppard's Euphoria CD. Good choices in my mind, I applaud his taste in music.
Neil and Tania are arguing, Tim is interjecting that Neil and he need to get to the gym, and I just want to get outta here. I don't know what Kevin's doing; he can suck my dick for all I care. I offer my goodbyes and turn to leave. I'm walking through the halls behind Paul and now confirm by the guitar riff that leaks from the earphones that the song is Hey You. I exit through the first set of doors I encounter and continue in the same direction so that I can walk without having to see Paul. I want to wish him well at States this weekend, but that would mean looking him in the eyes. I guess the team will just have to accept my best wishes through Neil and Tim.
Before I hit the sidewalk Kevin is beside me. Great, I have a puppy dog to walk home.
He wraps an arm over my shoulders, "Dude, you're intense! Tim's used to it, says it's just you, that you do a lot of living in your own headspace. But I don't know man, I was calling your name like the whole way down the hall!"
"Oh. Sorry, stuff on my mind," I offer.
After a few blocks we have to head separate directions. Kevin asks, "Wanna hit the community pool with me? Houston's as hot as Hades!"
I try to shrug him off, "Can't man. Gotta get to work."
Kevin calls me out, "Yeah. Work. Wasn't it right across from the school? Oh, and try maybe being there next time Tim and I drop by to see you on a Friday. It's cool man, go ahead and ditch me, just don't lie. Have a good time with your mystery girlfriend or whoever you bail on us for. Hopefully she spreads her legs for you man!"
The rest of the way home, in trying to avoid all thoughts of him, by the time I get home I've managed to mentally compile what Paul's CD collection must be comprised of. If he's got Def Leppard and Pink Floyd he must listen to Bon Jovi, probably Aerosmith and the like, maybe even Guns N Roses, Iron Maiden and Scorpions. Yup, I'm definitely doing a great job of pushing him out of my mind all right! If only he'd spread my legs for me!
Getting home I give Chris a call and tell him to head over. I have a quick shower and dress in my grey khaki cargo shorts and a bright green and white striped Tommy rugby shirt with a seashell necklace, ankle socks and new white running shoes I had to get for my job at the restaurant. I finish it off with a yellowy-orange school ball cap that Larry has given me. I don't even mind my school's burgundy logo on it because although I never wear a ball cap, and this in fact is the first one I've owned in years, it finishes the look and makes me look irresistibly hot I hope! Maybe I'm biased but I'd definitely fuck the guy looking back at me in the mirror. Hahaha. I'm fresh smelling with Listerine on my breath and Aqua Di Gio on my neck and chest when he arrives.
"Hey babe," He beams as I hop into his car.
"Hey sexy," I counter.
He asks, "So what's the plan Stan?"
I kinda really want sex, but I know he won't want to top because I actually got him to last time. So I just reply, "Dunno, I thought you had a plan for tonight. The movie?"
"Hours away. Anyone home? I've got a snake in my shorts that would like to tangle with yours," He winks.
"Yeah, Lacey's in there and apparently Larry stepped out to Home Depot a while ago. Sorry. Drive," I say, not wanting Lacey to see Chris.
We go for dinner at a TGI Friday's because it is Friday after all. Maybe we're silly in our logic, but who cares? Afterwards we pick up Bobbie and hang out at Chris's until it's time to head over to the AMC. We lounge on his personal balcony overlooking his family's pool, shooting the breeze and listening to the radio as we wait for the end of Allister's shift. Shortly after midnight we head over to the theatre and finally get to see the movie. The highlight of the night is that I have developed a crush on Leo. Fuck he's such a babe and I wish I could roll on the beach with him! By the time we're heading home Chris and I don't even have enough time to make out.
That doesn't stop us of course. At the park a block from my house he pulls into the parking lot. We get to kissing and stroking each other through our shorts. After a little while I unzip his shorts. He doesn't protest so I fish out his cock and sink my mouth onto it. Chris reclines his seat and locks the doors. His zipper is annoying so I undo the button on his shorts and slide them down a bit so I have just the cotton of his Armani boxer briefs to contend with now.
He's really into it, his hands rubbing all over my hair and his hips lifting in time with my bobbing. There's a sense of urgency, having gay sex in public in Texas will do that to you. I slip my hand up a leg of his underwear and circle his hole with it. It doesn't take long after this to coax a nice load out of him and into my mouth. In the dead of the night we kiss and share his juice back and forth in the seclusion of his car. I go back down on him and suck him clean, putting everything away for him while he reclines in bliss with his hands behind his head.
"Your turn," He says.
Chris has me put the seat as far back as it goes and recline it as much as it can while hitting the back seat. He hops into the cramped leg area in front of the passenger seat. We get my shorts and Haynes down to my ankles. Chris lifts my legs up and dives under my shorts. I masturbate furiously as he rims me. Partly worried about getting caught, partly just really horny, I climax quickly and make a good mess all over my shirt.
With my shorts back up past my thighs Chris opens the passenger door and crawls out of the tight confines he cramped himself into for me. Once I have my shorts back on I get out and we exchange a kiss. I remove my hat and pull the shirt up and over my head and shoulders and hold it out like a present to Chris. He licks up a spot off of it with a devious smile.
"No, take it. I'm not walking into my house with cum all over my front," I say.
He winks at me, "Oh, O.K. Sure. You're not getting it back then. Nah, on second thought it's too hot on you. You need it so I can make all the boys and girls jealous of my boyfriend! So this is it for a week?"
"Hafta see," Is the best I can commit to.
After scanning for anyone out and about Chris pulls me back for a kiss, "Well here's something else to think about. I'm going to New York with my dad for the whole first week of August. You should come, I'm not taking no for an answer! Dad's already bought the ticket and booked an extra room because he doesn't think we fuck!"
"Then what does he think two gay boys do? Anyway, awesome! I'll check with my mom," I excitedly promise.
As it's into June already Chris and I have agreed to restrict our time together with school finals coming up and assignments all due shortly. I don't really need to divert a lot of time into that but with the two jobs I am busy enough. I feel a bit guilty about it too I guess because ultimately I am using school as an excuse to cut my time with him, and thereby minimize my opportunities to be comfortable with my sexuality. My homosexuality is much easier to deal with from a guilt perspective than a guilt-free one for me, mostly because I don't plan on coming `out' right now, maybe not even until college. Sure, over the ensuing weeks we'll talk and see each other but it will be less frequently. This way I can work on the suppression and act like a good little straight boy.
Monday after classes I play a little ball with the guys, freshly crowned State Championship runner-ups. Instead of spending time with Chris I actually force myself on some free nights to go play baseball with Neil and Tim again. Thankfully Paul isn't there on these occasions to laugh at me as I throw like a girl compared to the guys and I can't bat to save my life. What would he think if he saw how pathetic I am at his favourite sport?
How are you supposed to hit the stupid ball when it's coming at you so fast and it's so small and the bat is just a small stick and you have to swing it at the right time as well as angle and so on? But I go anyway and I don't get made fun of to my face. Behind my back, who knows. At least by blind luck when I actually do hit the ball it clears the infield, and I am actually quite good at catching the ball. I don't own a glove so I use an extra one that Tim has. It therefore goes without saying that I don't own a jock either.
After the second time playing with them, after we leave the field Tim takes me into the baseball team's locker room in the school before we head back to his house. We're going to go look at an apartment for him tonight.
In the locker room he holds out his baseball pants to me as he steps out of them, "Here, now that the school season's over I don't need these anymore. There' a bit big, but I'm guessing they'll fit you alright."
I object, "What, like wear your school pants? Won't the other guys think I'm like your girlfriend or something?"
He flings them over my shoulders and then the belt for them too, "Shut up, they're just baseball pants. Oh, and hey, I don't want to embarrass you, but even though it's just pick-up in the park we can hit the ball damn hard. You really might want to start wearing your cup to protect your jewels like everyone else."
I try to pretend that I don't hear him or his rapping his knuckles off his cup for emphasis. I say try to pretend because my face must be a hundred shades of red. Clearly I heard and my blush is giving me away.
"Just a suggestion. Your choice man," Tim gently slaps my chest, ready to leave it at that.
He takes off his school jersey and hands it to me too. I take it, not sure what to say or do. He pulls out the waist band of his sliding shorts, reaches a hand into his cup and adjusts, and then drops the shorts to the ground. He nonchalantly steps out of them like it's nothing. Dressed only in his ball cap and socks he turns his back to me and walks over to what I assume is his team locker. He casually undoes the combination lock and opens the locker. I get a good look at his meat flopping around as he bends and rifles through some clothes in the bottom. He pulls out a bag and tosses it on the bench before sniffing a couple shirts, deciding on one over the other.
When I'm embarrassed I talk too much, it's a nervous habit. So instead of changing the subject like I've been given opportunity to, I pursue the subject by pointing to his discarded sliding shorts, "Tim. I don't have a dad, I live with four girls. I don't even have a ball glove. I use one of yours, remember? What makes you think I'd even own one of those?"
Like it's totally something naked guys freely discuss with each other rather than a private matter, he steps back over to me and mock swats at my crotch, "Point taken. Just go get one then."
I must be as red as a tomato while obviously looking away from him. He sits on the bench and pulls out the contents of his gym bag. A minute later he's wearing boxers, shorts and the shirt he decided on. He puts his sliding shorts, socks and cleats in the gym bag and tosses the remaining contents of his locker in there too. After fastening on a pair of Nike sandals and a generous dousing of cologne he shuts the locker and turns to me.
I don't know what expression can be on my face but Tim holds out his arms, "C'mere."
While we're hugging he offers, "Last chance before I commit to Train. I really want you to be my roommate in the apartment."
I don't know if it's too gay or what but I burry my face in his shoulder for a second and really squeeze him tight. As I let go of the hug I muse, "You know I'd love to, but Ma just had Deanna leave, and with Candace going away for a year Lacey's splitting. Ma needs me around."
"I know, I know. Can't hurt to ask one last time though. You're not getting out on me so easy when I go to the Big Easy. I don't care if you have to quit your jobs, you're coming to New Orleans for a week with me and that's final. That's why I got my parents to invite Larry and your Ma," he says, slinging the strap of the gym bag over his head and twisting it so the bag is resting against his ass. He grabs his lock, puts an arm over me and we leave.
This summer is going to kick serious ass, "Yeah, yeah! You know it! We have to ditch the parents some time though. A solid week with no escape from my mom? Scary!"
I try to put the earlier conversation out of my mind. Man alive, how embarrassing! Just go to a sporting goods store and stare at jocks and try to figure out what size cup I am? Yeah right. Tim has a few, and I've noticed that one is shaped different than the others. And his are more round where Mickey's seems to be boxy and Paul's seem to bulge higher than Tim's. Plus Tim wears his in these things that are like cycling shorts or something with padding on them. Aren't they usually skimpy things that your bare butt hangs out of? Why don't I just ask him to give me one of his. The one off the floor earlier would do. I should have taken it with the rest of the uniform he gave me. He has extra's he doesn't need this one. Embarrassing for sure, but at least I won't look as much a pervert in his eyes then in some store clerks. Then again, mentioning to him that I've perved on him enough to know he has 2 other cups and another pair of shorts that he puts them in might unsettle him.
I want to drop the subject and for a few minutes we do as we drive back from the school to his house in silence. But really, how do you know without trying them on what size you need? Is there some sort of measurement thing like they have for shoes? Tim I know has a nice sized dick because we've changed together. Like any gay boy, for as long as I can remember I always have sneaked peaks of the guys I think are cute in the locker room at gym class, and especially when we have to strip naked for swimming at school. I therefore know I stack up alright, but does that mean I need a huge cup like the ones Tim always wears that sticks out in front of him, or do I need a smaller one like Brent Liddle has that sits more like a bulge between his legs?
But if memory serves me right Brent has a big enough soft dick that he has to wear boxers and puts it down a pant leg. Rumor according to Candace and Lacey girl-talking on the way to school last year has it that he won't wear a speedo for waterpolo because he's so big down there. So why then does his cup look smaller than Tim's? And then as far as Tim goes, of the three that I've seen on a shelf in his closet when he leaves the door open to it, one of the cups is shaped different than the other two. The white and blue one looks way different than the cream coloured one and it's matching yellow cup with ridges on it. Fuck, I really am a pervert aren't I?
Still, how do you know what shape you need? And how do you get your boner to go down enough to put it on? Well duh, I at least know the answer to that one; straight boys don't get hard over the thought of a jock I'm sure. But what happens if you are wearing one and you pop a boner? Should you wear underwear with it? I recall Daniel told me he wouldn't have for football because he wore a girdle thingy, except that he was late with puberty so he didn't want to get naked in front of the team, and so wore his underwear out of bashfulness. I know Tim doesn't because of the spandex thingies he puts his cups in, but I've seen some guys put the ass-less ones on over their underwear in gym class for baseball and I've seen more than a couple guys strip naked and put just it on, and yet others put their underwear back on over it.
I badly want to ask Tim the answers to these questions, but that's just not something that straight boys talk about is it? I just let it pass. When we get to his house his parents are waiting. We go check out the apartment, but it's more of a formality as his dad has already worked out a deal with a colleague that is letting Tim stay there. When we get back to this house again I tell him that I actually should study for my one of finals and head for home instead. After today's conversation I can't sit there and play with him in his pool or help him pack because I'll have a boner the whole time and if I think of him in the baseball outfit he gave me I might even have an accident. Such is the joy of being 16 and obsessed with boys. Tim takes me at my word and drives me home.
Now how the hell am I going to pretend I'm straight and play a straight sport with the guys when I get wood looking at them and thinking about them and their crotches and asses all the time knowing that they are noticing my lack of bulge? It doesn't even matter that a lot of the guys opt for jogging pants instead of baseball pants for pick-up; I know what is concealed in their pants still. The shape is unmistakable. It's all just too sexual to me.
At least since staring at Paul's crotch when he drove me home that time I haven't made the same mistake with anyone else. Instead of being obvious now, I watch from the corner of my eye when guys are constantly adjusting themselves and take note then. I never really noticed crotch-grabbing until the Rosanne Barr debacle of singing the National Anthem when she mimicked it. Keeping in mind that I don't care for the intricacies of the game, since Rosanne's crotch grab was explained to me, thankfully it's all I ever see in baseball.
I don't dare look directly at the boys when I notice them adjusting. I don't look away either if they're in my line of sight because that too will draw attention. I just look past them, or try not to stare at it. And then sometimes it's not even their crotches that gets me hard while playing with them, it can be something as simple as just a look at a cute pair of eyes and eyebrows under the brim of the ball cap, with just the right amount of sweat beaded on their forehead and above nice lips, and a cute teenager necklace that will do it for me too. There are a few guys that we play with that fall into this category for me. And then there is the erotic scent of a hot guy right next to you on base, his tanned skin glistening with a slight sheen of sweat. Yum.
But I digress, before I got drawn into playing baseball I had planned to put everything aside for my exams even though I will most likely ace them. I have four to write and usually I pretty much hole up in my room at home come exam time. Except for this time.
I do see Chris for Ruby Tuesday's on you guessed it, Tuesday, and watch T.V. at his place afterwards. Most surprisingly I spend Wednesday with Neil. I'm supposed to be giving him some last minute help in Geometry but he is doing just fine on the practice exam he had. With no exam Thursday because it would be gym class, Neil has free time before his Friday math exam. I'm sure it would be spent with Tania if she wasn't stressed over exams, or with Tim if he wasn't packing to move in his spare time. It's one of the first times I spend just with Neil since I met him through Daniel over two years ago. We end up walking around the neighborhoods and talking most of the afternoon and then relieve stress with Grand Theft Auto. He comes over to my house for dinner.
While I'm cooking the doorbell rings. Lacey runs and gets it to get away from us. Dangling a grocery bag as she comes back into the kitchen she mocks me, "Did you mow the crazy neighbour's lawn again?"
"Yeah, why? And she's not crazy. Mrs. Petriczko is Ukrainian, and Ma and I happen to like her. I think Ma and her are actually becoming friends now that her kids aren't holy terrors anymore," I state.
"Yeah well you and Ma are her Hansel and Gretel then. She made fresh cabbage rolls and I think she said cheese and onion pierogies for you again. Maybe she said bacon instead of onion, I can't remember."
"Wicked!"
I explain to Neil, "Iris always makes food for me when I help her out by mowing her lawn, raking her leaves, cleaning her gutters or whatever. Her and her husband have their hands full with two kids that are ADHD."
Neil questions, "ADHD?"
"Yeah, Attention Deficit Hyperactive Disorder. I don't think they really are ADHD, but they're both like the energizer bunny on steroids, they keep going and going and going! She's an alright neighbour even if she does own my old best friend's house. That would have been Phil Edwards, Michael's cousin. Heck, she's an awesome cook, making everything from scratch and I love almost everything she gives me. Screw the stir-fry, want some?"
"Uh, I'm not big on cabbage rolls. And you know I can't stand pig meat. Like seriously, who looked at an animal that eats it's own shit and thought it would be good eating. No way Farrows. Thanks but no thanks."
Lately I also chat online almost nightly with Duncan and Evan. Evan is just harmless banter and Dunny is becoming my living journal in a sense because I tell him more than I tell it nowadays. Before he's online I chat with Evan for a bit. I ask him for his take on the whole jock issue from Monday, knowing full well that he's of no help in that department as far as personal experience and advise go. I get about the response I figured, he calls me a stud-muffin and jokes that I'll become just one of the jocks that pretend that he doesn't exist.
I send an instant message to Duncan as soon as I spot him online later. He plays hockey and baseball I think, and the gay part of him will be compassionate and not ridicule me. Maybe I should be talking to him more than Evan; he's a lot more normal I think. I'm embarrassed and I relate as much to Duncan as I ask him.
"SOS Duncan! Don't laugh at me please? Kay... my friend Tim changed out of his school baseball uniform in front of me and gave it to me. He also says I need to get a cup for baseball, he didn't give me that part. He has two kinds of cups and puts them in sliding shorts. Yes, I've perved on him. But, without being able to try one on how do I know what size and shape I need? Is there like a tool to measure? I've never had one and they make me both nervous and hella horny."
"LOL! Gimme your stats. Not your thing unless it's under an inch hard or over like six soft. Waist, height, weight, shoe size. Oh, and do you trim your nails or bite them?"
What do my nails have to do with down there? Oh well, "Waist 31", 5'11" tall, I weigh 140ish I think, and size 8.5-9. Um, my thing's a very nice handful when I'm alone, and a good mouthful when I'm with Chris. I never bite my nails. Here, if you want to see a picture of me go to this addy. My school's trying out an online yearbook. Click on the "Strike A Pose" link and scroll down like 20 pictures. There's a close-up picture of my friend Tim in his baseball uniform making love to the camera. You can see why I'm hooked on him...In the next picture I'm the guy under his right arm, so on the left of the picture."
"Aight, I'll check out your picture later, for now don't start biting your nails over this, it's no big deal. So you're like a small to medium with undies? Go with that for a strap. You're tall enough, try a medium. There are 2 or 3 sizes for the cup. Youth, Teen (sometimes), and Adult. You are an adult. Style is a preference. What works for me may fit like crap on you. You either find the right one or just get used to whatever you get."
"How does yours fit? Good, or do you live with it?"
"Fits fine. I may not own the prize salami, but I'm not just a breakfast sausage either. I swap it out with Benji but that's besides the point. In our experience a banana cup is most comfortable, and fits best with most of it in front of us and the pointed bottom between our legs almost parallel with the ground. So try a banana cup, they are the most versatile and by far the most comfortable once you actually get used to wearing one. After a while you forget it's there. Just don't get a flat one, no guy's body is flat so they never fit comfortably. When you buy it, sleep in it for a while. Sounds perverto, but if you're just getting your very first one now it will help mold it to you a bit and get you comfortable in it. You don't want to keep adjusting yourself and getting hard with all the cute boys in theirs around you!"
I'm so happy he isn't a jerk, "Thanks Dunny!"
"No prob Jiffy. Hey, how's Tim's uniform," he asks.
"Too big on me," I relate.
He shocks me, "You beat off smelling it?"
Why lie, "No. Thought about it, but he's my friend and I have, have, have to separate the friend from the sex symbol."
"I would have. If you haven't already washed it go for it. He'll never know, and he gave you the thing right off his body anyways! Probably wants you to worship it," Duncan writes, and I suspect he's right too.
I try to explain, "Maybe. I have a hard time with him. He is so straight and he likes pushing the envelope with me. He `pants' me all the time in his pool and he takes his time stripping naked in front of me and changing. You know I sleep over in his bed on Fridays, but do you know how hard it is to not check him out? Only, if I do, I won't be able to be friends with him. And I need his friendship because I'm so in love with him!"
Duncan goads me on, "LOL. Just do it, you know you want to!"
I decide why not, and then think better of it, "Nope, putting it in the wash now to take care of things, brb."
I toss the pants in the wash after reading the instructions. I do take a whiff of his jersey. The armpits are strong enough to make my eyes almost water, but in contrast the neck smells sweaty but not bad. I drop it in the water because I do not need any further desire for Tim than I already have. I get back to the computer next to the laundry, "Back. It's in the wash. The pits were too rank anyways and the rest smells like dirt."
Duncan changes the subject, "Aight. Hey, gimme your real addy. Like where you live. I have a CD I wanna send you."
We've talked enough that I trust him to be real. He's always emailing me songs, but they take at least ten, fifteen minutes to download. I give Duncan my address. We chat for a while about Chris and I, Tim and I, and he updates me on him and his best-friend-with-benefits Benji. I have to say, that they are exchanging hockey and baseball gear seems hot to me. I get an image in my head of Duncan, based off a the GQ image he's shooting for lately. I put him in his baseball uniform in my fantasy and voila, magic is happening in my pants. Can't let a good erection go to waste, so I fist myself as we chat. When I finally get to a store to buy a cup I'm sure that's what is going to be going through my mind; my mental image of him in his baseball uniform.
Oh well, no matter, now that Tim has me coming out to play baseball I don't want to look like a pussy in his eyes by stopping even though I have to be extra careful to keep a lock on the inner fag inside me. And plus, if I stop playing now I'm worried that Tim will stop devoting so much friendship to me and maybe start hanging out more with Kevin in my place. Kevin has a playstation, he plays baseball. They like chicks. Tim gets excited over Kevin's Playboy magazines. They have more in common and I am afraid that Tim will like him more. So for Tim I'm going to take the plunge and buy a cup.
Maybe I am neurotic after all. But I still can't help being a little protective and jealous of my friendship. It's not that I want Tim sexually. As strange as it is and as good looking as he is I don't. He's got to be one of the best looking guys in our school. Top five in our class for sure if not at least in the entire school. But I don't covet his friendship because he is good looking and popular. I covet his friendship because he's shared it with me and I can talk with him about almost anything, my guard is so low with him compared to so many people.
I know that sounds stupid in light of the conversation we've just had this week about jocks. But still, aside from my sexuality and sexually sensitive things like jocks, I can talk so easy with him. We have great times together even when we're just lounging around. He has an upbeat personality that is contagious even when I want to be sullen. And I'm not a pity friend. I'm not a replacement friend for Neil because they still hang out by themselves too from time to time. Still, I'm not letting Kevin get a cut of my Tim-time; he can bite me if he thinks otherwise.
Tim is the most level person I know. As a person he is the best person I know. As a friend he has been there for me even going back to when Daniel left and I didn't realize the depths of the friendship we already had. All said, Tim is a friend in the true sense of the word and I don't want Kevin taking that from me! Now if only I could tell him I'm gay it could make the friendship 100% honest on both of our parts...
Through all the distractions of the week on top of my two jobs I walk into all of my exams confident and leave all of them with pretty much the same feeling. Exam week flies by, and on the Friday night after our final exam I help Tim, his dad and brothers Sam and Will, Neil, Kevin, Train and like half of the football and baseball teams (no Paul Hunter) move Tim and Train into the condo apartment. On the plus side, Neil and I have been given keys from Tim, and Tim's parents have asked Neil's parents and my mom and Larry to check in on him as well as Train's parents. At least Kevin isn't Tim's roommate and doesn't get a key!
But Tim isn't the only one who's been packing. Deanna has been gone for quite a few days and Candace has been packing for her cruise liner job. This put me in the situation of being stuck with Lacey. I guess neither of us are happy with being stuck with each other. I don't get why she's such a bitch but whatever. She dropped the latest bombshell on Ma by saying that she's moving in with Andy. That is so lame because Andy lives at home with his parents, and Lacey has only been seeing him for one and a half months. On top of that he's a useless drug addicted loser. Ma is partly sad, partly happy for Candace, and happy for Deanna, but she is thoroughly pissed at Lacey. She's outright put her foot down and said no, but Lacey is defiant as ever. Looks like I'm looking good at home. I may just be able to have Chris over from time to time too with no sister's in my face and Ma not wanting me to bail on her!
Rather than stay over at Tim's this Friday like my mom is used to, I get picked up by Chris after I leave Tim's. Just too many people at Tim's. Chris heads to his house and we barely have any clothes still on by the time I push him on his bed and grind against him. Instead of quibbling over who gets to bottom I am going to pound him like a champ tonight. The sexual frustration of the past couple weeks has driven me insane and I feel in the mood to savagely top Chris. I enter him roughly and act like I mean to hurt him. He likes it, and I definitely don't intend to hurt him, but letting him think I am going with reckless abandon adds an element of excitement for Chris.
"Got another condom," I ask having just erupted into one, "N'mind. This one's still good."
"You came already," Chris questions.
Well, yeah. I am only 16 and trigger happy. Getting between your boyfriends legs can do that to you right? Feeling like I have to compensate for something I explain, "Ya. You do that to me. Now we can take it nice and slow and make it feel good."
And we do. Chris turns over and lays flat on his stomach. I reclaim his canal and slowly, tenderly make love to him. I kiss him all over the back of his neck and shoulders. He turns his head and we make out while my hips grind against his. We go at it like this for a good while and Chris is just in heaven at how long I am lasting. Finally he lifts up his hips and I reach around to give him a helping hand. Each shot out of his dick is accompanied by a clenching down on mine inside him.
We are both drenched with sweat and after fisting myself to a second climax more than half an hour after the first I collapse into the mess he made on his sheets. I don't care to clean up. I don't even take the condom off. I just fall off into a deep sleep. Hours later, in the pre sunrise light I wake.
Looking Chris over I start to wonder just what it is about him I find attractive. He's cute, but not hot. He has real delicate features that over time are either going to turn ugly, or more effeminate. His body is fit and desirable, but the whole package is far from what I would choose to end up with. And yet he's my boyfriend. Ideally I want a man that has something to him; a strong and powerful torso that comes in at more than twenty eight inches! Just all around more solid than Chris is. Taller and stronger like Paul or Tim, or how I envision Duncan.
Did my beer-goggles just come off with Chris? I am more obsessively in love with three other guys than I am in love with him. I'm madly in love with Tim Matthews, have the hugest crush on Paul Hunter, and an emotionally falling deeply in love with my MSN friend Duncan McKerracher in Vancouver. Where exactly does Chris Milner fit into things when my heart is so divided? He's my boyfriend. But even when I just think that, it has a lesser value to it than either of the three guys I just mentioned. And love isn't the right word for Chris either. Hmm.
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Dear Journal:
It's been a while, again. What have I been up to you ask? Well, not a whole hell of a lot, just chillin, keeping a low profile. I want to think I'm O.K. but everything in my life points to the contrary. Now, near the end of June I have completely shut down inside and not many people have a clue. Let me explain.
First there's Paul Hunter. Since the city baseball championship I can't look him in the eyes anymore. He's got to know about me. I really don't think for all the world that he could have missed me checking him out that day in his car. Man was I stupid. So, so stupid. I knew I was going to get caught and still I just drooled away.
Watching the championship game that night was painful. I really tired hard to focus only on Neil and Tim. We were on the first base side and I kept finding myself coming out of daydreams only to realize that my eyes were fixated on Paul's butt. He plays first base and my eyes kept getting drawn to the pinstripes that met in between his legs and accentuate the beautiful mounds of his butt as they met in his crack. Damn his butt screams to be fondled. And then there's the equally fascinating front side where the prominent bulge can be found. But I don't want to think about that. The thought alone has gone and made me get another hard on. No, in fact I don't want to think about Paul at all.
He has to know I was crunching on him and he did not respond in kind. Fuck, thankfully he at least hasn't told anyone. At least not someone that has passed the information my way, if he has in fact told anyone. I'm still alive, I haven't had my ass kicked yet, or been sneered at so I'm keeping my fingers and toes crossed. But now I can't look at him. I can't meet his eyes. I am defeated. Truly.
And worse, I have beat myself up real good for being dumb enough to crunch on a straight guy. It probably creeps him out thinking that I want to hold his beautiful soul in my arms, that I look at his body and fantasize about him sexually, that I look at his face and in his eyes and I want to forever be both the cause and target of his smile. I wonder what he'd do if I somehow had the guts in my life to tell him that I want to touch him in such an emotional and sexual way as to be his lover? But now that I know he has a kid I'm positive he couldn't ever feel the same way about me as I do about him. So I don't even bother to seek him out in the halls anymore.
Instead I just go about my day, keeping my eyes to the ground even though I know precisely where and when he'll be passing from one class to another, or to his locker. It wasn't until I caught Neil pointing out to Tim that I zero in on Paul that I even consciously knew I was doing it. He's just one of the boys that lil' gay me gets a cheap thrill by looking at.
When forced to think about it there are a few guys that I always scan the crowds and halls at school for, like a harmless, unintentional stalker. But now that I am actively aware of it I've given up looking for Paul in the halls and purposely passing him at these key times of the school day.
If I really dwell on it I can easily convince myself that I actually thought we had this thing'. It wasn't even really a full nod of the head and could have been me completely misinterpreting; but I'd swear that we'd always lock eyes and then sometimes even sort of incline our heads slightly at each other. At least I thought that it meant something. It was our thing, like a common courtesy. Note even sexual. More like just sort of a hey, I know who are' acknowledgement nod rather than staring through each other like most every other kid in school does. I guess I was wrong. How long this was going on for I honestly cannot even begin to guess, but once it was accidentally brought to my attention I am painfully aware that I was doing it.
Nowadays I am avoiding the pain he causes my heart by avoiding him. Makes sense, right? Problem now is that while I hardly know him, why does my heart want him so badly that it hurts? I guess we all go for the ones we can't have. Maybe it's because I know I can't have him that I feel safe in secretly channeling my desires in his direction. Aw fuck, what do I know?
Ah Tim. He really does have an apartment like he said he would. It's a two bedroom unit in a building behind the Northwest Mall. The mall is practically directly across from school. It's conveniently close to school and one of my two jobs. I wish I could be his roommate. He even asked me but I just can't. I used the excuse that I have to help with the bills here especially now that Deanna and Candace are both moving, but really I don't want him to discover that I am gay the wrong way. Kevin indicated a secret girlfriend, I think that if Neil and him think something's already up with me then they would know for sure if I lived with Tim and Chris came over. You know, like don't mind us were just going to go have sex in my room but tell you we're playing a video game that I don't even own. Wink, wink, nudge, nudge. Just ignore the obvious sex noises.
Or even worse, if they snooped I'm sure I'd be careless enough to give them some sort of evidence. So not a good idea. Tim doesn't really need a roommate anyways because he is renting or sub-letting the condo for pretty cheap off a guy that his dad knows. I guess this guy travels a lot and works mostly out of Dallas and the condo has sat vacant since the New Year and this guy doesn't plan to be finished his contract until the end of next year at the earliest. So it's not that Tim needs a roommate, he just really doesn't want to be on his own. Ergo Train.
And finally there's Daniel. Daniel, it always comes back to Daniel. Even separating him from his name I think I was drawn to his name. Dan is boring, Daniel has something to it that captivates me. (Maybe that's part of my draw to Duncan?) It's now been 3 and a half months since Daniel's been gone. Day by day the pain subsides, I don't think about him every minute of every day any more, but I'm sure not a day goes by that I don't miss him. Maybe I'm finally moving on. My grievous wound is finally on the mend. Maybe this is why I am waking up to my lack of feeling towards Chris?
One certainty; I'm not at all excited at the prospect of being the only child in the house. Going from 4 kids at home to just me in a matter of weeks is going to put a huge spotlight on me. I've been able to fly under the radar with Ma a lot because I get great grades and keep good company. Larry coming over earlier this year is the first time she's ever had any contact from the school regarding me since that time when Daniel and I started dating a year and some ago. And well, this time sort of got swept aside as the romance between them started. So by pure luck I have always had more leeway than my sisters. That, I am sure is about to change. Oh lucky me! As if I don't have a hard enough time hiding my relationship with Chris.
So this month my personal project has become what I've dubbed `Project: Be Straight' or PBS for short. In this attempt to appear straight I haven't really done anything differently other than avoid Paul Hunter. Beyond that PBS is more of a concept I guess than something I am actually following through on.
Change is hard; I'll get around to it soon. I promise! Baby steps first right Journal?
Jon xoxo
[to be continued]
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Hey readers, thank you for reading my story! I haven't heard from anyone the last couple installments and I am wondering if there is anyone out there still reading. If you are still along for the ride please give me a quick shout at phantomscorpio77@gmail.com. I really appreciate any and all feedback!