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The following is fiction. It was inspired from events in 'First Love' by Mykhhal, which he based on personal experience. This story, however, tells the tale from the other character's point of view, and the characterizations therein are totally the work of my imagination. Details, and some dialogue are borrowed (with the author's permission) from 'First Love,' but remember no two people remember the same event the same way! Thank you, Mykkhal, again for the moving story.
This work is copyrighted 1997 by Dick Gladden. Archiving and reposting of this work is permitted provided that no fee is charged for the use of the archival or posting site. Charging a fee for this story, or publishing without this preface or tagline violates my copyright.
This story contains consensual sex acts between two teenage males. If you are morally outraged by such behavior, don't read it. If you are under the legal age for your area (18 or 21 or whatever), don't read it.
Real Love (teen/teen) by Dick Gladden
There he was, that Mike guy, walking home from school with his "I'm ready for a flood" pants and a shit-load of books. Oh, it wasn't like he was a total geek or anything. He didn't have a plastic pen-holder in his shirt pocket or a great big wad of masking tape holding his glasses together. He was just a total Brainiac, probably the smartest guy in the whole 8th grade. Smart in school stuff that is. He always had his nose buried in a book, even on summer vacation. Some of the other kids thought he was too stuck up to talk to them, but I thought he was too afraid he'd say the wrong thing, or sound like a fool. Yeah, when it came to getting in with the cool kids or the jocks, he didn't make the grade. Maybe if they had put the "how-to" of shooting the bull or knowing the cool clothes and music between the covers of a book, he coulda gotten an A plus.
Me? I'm Todd. And Todd, always got an A in getting along. I was a total jock both on and off the field. And the Big Man on Campus of the 8th grade. All right, I maybe I got that one by default. Book work had never been my strong point, and finally in 6th grade it caught up with me and I had to repeat a grade. Added to the fact that I had an early birthday and had always been the oldest kid in each grade, no one in 8th grade could come close to my 15 years.
I was well coordinated and could succeed at any team sport. I swam like a fish, and loved to workout (weights and running). I was one of those skateboard rats, you would never see without a board, and who could ride up and over curbs and around cars as easily as you could walk. The board gave me all the mobility I needed and I spent more time hanging out with friends that I spent at home. My friends were all the jocks and the cool kids at school. Have you ever noticed that there's no such thing as a jock or cool kid who wasn't good looking. I know all my friends back then were good looking popular studs just like me. Well, it never rains but it pours, and I also hit puberty early. By 12, I had a good start on a bush, my balls were filling out, and my cum was getting thicker and richer (Yes, I had been beating off since 5th grade and had tasted it. Doesn't everyone?) Hell, I may not have been the prettiest boy in school, but I definitely had what the girls wanted, and I was willing to share. Right now, I was dating Missy, and she and I were doing it at least once a week.
It was Missy who told me Mike was cute. Like I said, he wasn't a geek. With the right clothes and a little confidence, he'd have to beat the girls off. He was almost as tall as me, and had one of those wiry, not-an-ounce-of-fat bodies. No one had short-changed him in the dick department either. It wasn't longer than most of the guys in gym, but had a real fat head, and his ball-sack was so full and plump his dick couldn't hang straight down. It stuck straight out before gravity forced it into a right angle turn straight down. Now, don't get the wrong idea. I don't check out the guys in the locker room any more than the next guy and wasn't checking Mike out cause my girl said he was cute or anything. But once my attention had been drawn to him, I began to notice him during gym and around campus. I became curious what made a Brainiac tick, and I made Mike my own special study. At first, he seemed just what you'd expect: quiet, real good at school, popular with the teachers. He seemed to have a circle of friends he'd hang out with during lunch, but always walked home alone. Of course, I couldn't blame him. His friends were geeks of the Chess Club, Memorizing-Star-Trek-Episodes variety. Mike just didn't seem to fit in there either.
Then I started to notice the oddest thing. Mike had an odd habit of casting sidelong glances, almost as if he were using only his peripheral vision to look at people. And the people he was looking at were always guys. He seemed to be memorizing how they looked, how they moved. At the library, he'd pick a guy at the next table (usually one of my friends) and fix on a hand, or arm, or the nape of his neck anywhere there was bare skin, and his glance would keep returning until I was sure he could recognize that feature in a dark room at midnight. He got real good at keeping his attention--apparently--on the person (geek) talking to him or on the book in front of him, but I could tell.
Then when the chosen one stood, the glance continued but at the same level, so Mike was watching his crotch or ass. As I noticed him looking, I found I was looking to. It was funny how easy it was to trace the outline of their budding manhoods in their jeans or shorts (like, I said that were usually my friends and we didn't wear khakis or corduroy or dress pants!) And I noticed guys' butts moved different from girls'. Guy's didn't throw their hips, but their ass checks still shifted when they walked. And it seemed the more muscular the guy the bigger the shift. Yeah, girls wiggled 'cause their butts were soft and jello-like, and guys shifted 'cause they were firm and round and strong. Interesting, huh?
Mike had really perfected his sidelong glance in the locker room. If I hadn't already been looking for it, I'd never have noticed him memorizing all those torsos, butts, cocks and balls. He looked at everyone (even the one's who weren't my friends!) but he really seemed to want to remember Tony. Everyone looked at Tony. A short bantam rooster type, Tony had been the last guy to grow hair but had the biggest cock and balls around. Until last summer, he'd been completely bare which made his cock look even bigger as it lay against a really low-hanging set of plum-sized balls. I remember thinking I'd feel sorry for him being so bald and all, except for his size. Tony was also the only uncut kid in school. His foreskin left only the tip of his head barely showing. He'd have to be careful to peel it so he could pee. And he'd pull it back in the shower so he could wash underneath. One time, I remember seeing something--sorta like a blob of earwax--fall off as he washed it. No wonder he spent so long cleaning it and did such a thorough job. (YES, I said we ALL looked at Tony. I think he even liked to show off his special equipment.)
Mike looked at everyone. Yet, more and more, I realize he was looking at me! It was my cock, my balls, my ass and back (I had a mirror in my locker for doing the hair thing), my legs, my chest that were drawing his attention. Even outside of gym, he couldn't take his eyes off me. And his eyes had the strangest look. He looked just like a penniless kid outside a candy store, yearning to go in but knowing he couldn't get what he wanted. I hadn't noticed that lost look before when Mike was memorizing those other guys. And that's when it hit me: He really likes me. He thinks I'm special. I bet he'd like to be my friend, if only he knew how.
You know it's really a great feeling to know that you're special in someone's eyes, that there was at least one person thinks your worth getting to know. And I had such a someone, and it was Mike. I started bringing his name up in conversations with my friends. They all dismissed him as a member of the geek club, but he wasn't. I knew that, couldn't my friends look beyond the surface. Were they that shallow? I got that word from Missy, she thought most of my friends were "shallow" but she liked that I could see Mike as a "real person" (her words again.) As I talked about Mike, I seemed to grow in Missy's eyes. Oh, I knew she liked me, we fucked enough and she said she came a lot. But I'd never thought of how she saw me. Yes, she liked me and I liked her. And I loved putting it in her and she loved having it there. But I came to realize, we were friends. Friends who fucked, but friends none the less. Funny, the more she came to appreciate me for me (cause I was showing "sensitivity" toward Mike), the more I came to see that I could never be as great in her eyes as in Mike's. To Mike, I could easily become the center of the known universe. He looked up to me. He admired me, and not just my cock.
He'd watched me like a hawk with that sideways glance of his for months now. He'd listened to me bullshit with my friends; he'd seen my successes on the ball field; and he'd witnessed my fumbling scholastic performance. I even remember one day after 4th period PE on a hot day when he unconsciously leaned forward and inhaled as I paused near him on the way to the shower. I don't think he was aware of what he had done, but it was clear he even liked the way I stank! He'd studied every inch and second of my life at school, and found nothing wanting. I know that sounds totally narcissistic, but you didn't see the look in his eyes.
The end of the school year was coming real fast. Could I face a long summer without my shadow? Did I want to? No way. Finding Mike was a no-brainer. He always found me. But every time I'd talked to him, all I got was a mumbled "oh, hi" and a steady stare at the floor. I'd have to get Mike to crack open his shell. I sure as hell couldn't wait for him to make the first move. That's why I 'accidentally' skateboarded into him as his walked home. His books went flying. There were papers everywhere.
"Sorry, I guess I wasn't watching where I was going. You ok? Let me help you with those."
"Thanks, er. . . I can get them. I'm ok."
"No, I ran into you. I'll make it right. Besides, " I grinned at him, "my girlfriend says I'm sensitive, and I have to prove her right."
We scooped up the blowing papers. It took awhile as the wind kept kicking up.
Then I helped him separate them by subject. There were a bunch covered with complex math equations.
"Wow, do you really understand all this?"
"That? That's just introductory Trig. Mr. Carpenter's showing me some stuff to get a start on Trigonometry next year."
"Next year. I'll probably be repeating the same 8th grade math next year. I've got the final next Thursday, and I don't think I have a clue."
"Well, you're in Miss Park's regular track Math, aren't you. That's not so tuff. I mean, . . .well, er. . . I mean, I could. . . "
I thought: Come on, Mike. You damn well know what classes I take and you could ace them in your sleep. Now say it. Come to papa. I want you to make the next move.
". . . . I could, er. . ., help you get, well you know, help you study if you want."
Yes! I had him. "Sure, what are you doing right now? I only have until Thursday you know." And I gave him my best movie star grin.
And so began a whirlwind friendship. Mike tutored me everyday after school and on that weekend. I wasn't a complete chowder head and had really figured on a C in the class. But with Mike's help, I pulled a solid B. My mom was so surprised, and pleased----and suspicious. I think she thought I was using Mike just for the test. She was really pleased (and maybe really surprised, ' cause she didn't always see my 'sensitive' side like Missy did) when I kept up the friendship. Mike turned out to be a really cool guy once you got passed the totally out of it clothes. Maybe I'd find a way to slip some hints that way. Once he got to know you, he relaxed and lost his awkward ways. He was smart and read a lot. We already knew that. But he also knew about all the gossip and FX wizardry of all the cool movies, the secrets to all the most awesome video games, the best buys on any kind of consumer electronics you cared to name, and could explain anything without making you feel like a brainless stooge. Of course, I liked his special attention as well. He kept sneaking those glances. This was one case where familiarity didn't breed contempt. The more Mike looked, the more Mike liked. And I never lost that tingle I felt as Mike looked and admired.
I found myself posing for him. I'd plan what I was going to wear and what it would show off. A pair of spandex shorts I'd only worn before for long bike rides become my favorite lounge wear----at least when Mike was coming over. I really liked how they showed off the concave sides of my ass when I stretched up to reach stuff off the top of my bookcase. For some reason, everything I wanted to show Mike happened to be up there when he came over. Of course, the shirt came off at every possible occasion. My pecs were developing good for a guy of my age, and I kept myself down to a 27 inch waist. Probably my pride and joy were my biceps. They were like full and round and and an even 20 inches. The muscle would pop and bounce with even the slightest move of my arm. I liked to play with them, making them dance as I talked to Mike. Sometimes he lost track of the conversation.
"Mike, are you in there?"
"Umm, yeah. I'm here."
He was really gone that time. I'd just told him we were going over to Missy's.
Yes, I was still with Missy. Don't think you'd turn down a good fuck, do you? I'd waited until we were already on our way to announce our destination 'cause he hadn't been too thrilled last time. Missy and I had left him down stairs watching TV and being lookout. I liked knowing he was there as I plowed Missy. We'd started doing it from the back, doggy style. Missy said it gave her more friction. It felt the same to me, but I did enjoy the view. Missy was a swimmer doing mainly the butterfly stroke. This gave her a full strong back with wide shoulders. Her ass was harder than most girls, but it still had that girl fullness and jiggle. I couldn't help wondering as I a slammed my hips against her, if a guy's ass would bounce the same. Mike had one of those round bubble butts. I bet his would bounce. Mike had called out a greeting to Missy's mom just as I about to deposit my load. It was hard to stuff my rod back into my jeans. We had to hurry downstairs, with me trying to hide my bulge. Of course, there had been no hiding it from Mike.
"Well, what do you think?"
"Sorry. Guess I wasn't paying attention"
"That's obvious. What's going on?"
"Well, I guess I'm just not happy about sitting out on the couch waiting for you and Missy to finish messing around."
"Why? You jealous? Or do you want to watch?"
Come on, say it. You know you've seen every inch of me except my dick when it was hard. You must be itching to see it!
"Sheesh, of course not. I don't want to watch some hose-beast going down on your dick. That's not my idea of entertainment."
God, he couldn't even say "shit." Mike really needs to loosen up. This plan's has just got to work!
"Sure, whatever. I'd bet big bucks that you'd watch if you could, and bigger bucks if you could do it without anybody else knowing."
"No. I wouldn't."
Oh, Mikey, your lips say 'no, no, no' but I see 'yes' in your eyes. Now to let him know I wouldn't dump on him if he did.
"You would too, just admit it. I'd watch other people having sex if I could. I'd be all over that."
We walked in silence for a few minutes. Then I started talking about my cock, and how it wanted to get inside her pants, and how it would feel once in there. I explained how we were doing it from the back, how I'd squeeze and pinch her nipples as I slipped in her, and how I rubbed her back as I pumped in and out. I was telling him how she would suck my dick first, licking around the head before slipping it between her lips, and how careful she was to keep her teeth away from my tender flesh. (Are you listening, Mike?) I kept talking, giving him no time to think or protest, until just before pressing the doorbell, I said, "After I get her in the bedroom, I'm going to come out to go to the bathroom or some shit like that. I'm not going to shut the door all the way when I go back in. That way you can watch if you want."
Missy and I disappeared upstairs leaving Mike downstairs with the TV. I had told him a cool show was coming on MTV and he should watch it. He always took my advice on the cool shows to watch, but hated heavy metal. So, I knew he'd be stuck listening to the Hour of Metal, and looking for something 'better' to do. Mikey, I'll give you something to watch.
I did the bathroom thing making sure that there was plenty of noise as I pissed. My hardon had softened with the piss, but as I shook it dry, I thought of what was to come, Mike's eyes on my rock hard cock. Damn, I was instantly up, and I swear I'd never been so hard before. Mike don't fail me now.
I made sure Missy was turned away from the door, and that my thrusts were making her moan to cover any noise from the hall. Mike did a good job creeping upstairs, but I starting moaning too. I didn't want him to think he'd been heard and run back downstairs. We were turned sideways to the door, and I was thrust deep in Missy when Mike got to the door and peeked in the crack. I rotated my hips, making my cock move from side to side in her, just the way Missy liked, to distract her from any noise at the door. Then I turned, looked at Mike, grinned, and pulled out more and more with each stroke. I thought Mike would jaw would hit the floor by time I was all the way out. I grabbed my cock and waved it at him. That was all he could take. I actually saw his knees shake, then he was off to the bathroom where I had been just before. I thrust back into Missy. Looking down at that broad back, feeling my cock thrust forward into a warm hole, and watching those ass cheeks bounce, I thought of Mike and of how he must be pounding his meat thinking of me pounding my meat in and out. As my thrusts came faster and faster, I thought of Mike thinking of me thrusting. As I felt my balls tighten and the cum pressure built I thought of Mike thinking of me. As I thrust deep, I thought of Mike. As I came, I thought "Mike".
Missy was pissed. I hadn't touched her--except for my dick--since Mike had first peeked in. I'd stood and thrust hard and fast, but my hands had stayed clenched at my side. She went downstairs looking flushed and confused, unsure what had happened. I went downstairs wearing a shit-eating grin.
Now, on to chapter two. I was sick of all this worship from afar crap. Mike wanted to explore me bod with more than his eyes and he deserved the chance. He was going to get busy, and soon.
Fast forward to next week. "Come on, just get drunk with me. It's not a big deal. It'll be just you and me. I'll take care of eveything. Everything will be cool." He started to fuss. "No alcohol," he said. "Ok," I said. 'For now', I thought.
That night, Mike was right on time but I was running late. I'd been working out and stank to high heaven. I knew Mike wouldn't mind the smell, but my mom wouldn't let me 'entertain' like that. Especially Mike, he was the only one of my friends Mom really liked. So, I showered while Mike talked to Mom. I knew she was due to leave soon for bingo, and that would leave Mike all mine until well after midnight. Once I heard the car leave, I went out wearing just a towel. I was surprised how fast I got hard under Mike's devouring gaze. The lump in his pants proved how much he liked the show. Shit, now I was wondering what he looked like hard. Well, it was only fair as he had seen mine. But first came a pizza and a movie, our 'first date.' The movie was one of those silly beach comedies, lots of flesh but no action. I couldn't help noticing that all the girls looked alike though. Make the hair the same style and color and they were all the same: two lumps under a bikini top, wide hips below, and plump almost flabby thighs. The guys were all different though. Some had light dusting of hair on arms and legs (the blond dudes actually looked dusted with gold dust); others had real hair there and on their chests. And the chests were all different. On some the pecs road high and jutted out with nubby nipples pointing downward stuck on the ends; others had wide flat nipples on broad chests; and still others had flat chests with little button nipples. Their voices had a wider range than the girls too, and so did their faces. Some were softer and boyish, some were real manly with chins that looked rough even when shaved, others were finely chiseled like some museum statue. Legs, thighs, forearms, backs, shoulders, even feet!, every part of the collected guy anatomy seemed more varied and interesting than the girls'. I lost track of what plot there was and turned my attention back to Mike and the evening at hand. He must have noticed all the differences between guys before. He had certainly studied enough at school. There they all were, all those different guys with their different looks. And Mike had picked me out worthy of his main attention. Fuck, there's my cock going all rock hard again!
After the flick, it was time for beer, lots of it. "Come on Mike, If you don't everyone will know you were peeping at Missy and me." "You wouldn't!" "Don't tempt me." "Fuck, give me the beer then." Shit, the boy had said 'fuck' for probably the first time in his whole life, just the first of many firsts, I hoped. From the beer, we switched to my Dad's Jack Daniel's. I tried to keep the party going and brought up sex as often as possible. I even suggested getting some girls to come over---as if any would on such short notice. (Girls don't do spontaneous fun like guys do.) I thought Mike would turn green at the thought. But it was me who turned green. Mike had had the sense to stop downing the booze long before me. And my beautiful plan unraveled----almost. I was taken off my shirt at some point but was now falling down drunk. I guess I passed out 'cause the next thing I knew Mike was trying to clean up before Mom got home. He'd stashed the booze, and straightened up everything but the drunken lump on the sofa. I felt him try to lift me and then settle for dragging me off to my room. Well, the plan had been for him to spend the night, but I was no longer in fit condition to take advantage of the situation. I struggled to help him struggle to get me down the hall. On the way, I felt his fingers caress my chest and graze my nipple. Maybe this would work after all. In my room, I flopped on the bed and muttered some sex talk. About how horny I was and the joy of a good fuck. "Hey, Mike, help me with these socks. I can't reach 'em, buddy." I raised my foot and put it squarely in his crotch. I felt him tense, but felt his cock stiffen too. "Come on, Mike, I can't get these off." He started to remove my socks and I struggled with my jean buttons. I referred to a poster of David Lee Roth hanging over my desk and how the chaps he wore were open at the back and how you could see David didn't wear anything underneath. I told him I'd seen him totally strip on stage once. I kept fumbling with the jean's buttons.
"Well, just like David Lee Roth, it's time for you to take it all off." The words seemed to just slip out of his mouth.
"You're gonna have to help. I can't do shit right now." And you better hurry up, or my dick will pop my jean's buttons on its own!
His fingers trembled as he undid each one. He was trying so hard not to touch anything but fabric and metal. Oh, Mike if you only knew how my cock ached for a warm hand. Then the jeans were off and Mike watched my cock twitch thorough my white jockeys. They were clean, but my oldest pair, and I knew that the material let the shadow of my crotch hair and the details of my dick show. Mike sat so still, I thought he was praying in church. Hell, give him a candle and a white cloth, and he'd probably set up an altar to my crotch. I couldn't just lay there listening to him breathe.
"Turn off the light it's too bright." The light was over the headboard which brought his crotch level to my head. "I see you got a boner yourself. Too bad there are no chicks around." He barely stammered a reply. "Well, goodni't," I said and shifted over to make room on the bed for Mike. I had alway had a king-sized bed and always shared when having sleepovers as a kid. If I'd been sober, I'd've made sure Mike knew the routine, but as it was he took the extra pillow and blanket Mom had laid out for us and lay on the floor. I peeked out through half open eyes and saw him curled up like a puppy on the hard wood floor. Poor Mike, he deserved better than that, but I was too drunk to get up and rescue him. I just rolled over and must have passed out again, 'cause the next thing I knew there was a warm hand under my jockeys on my butt. Warm? It felt white hot lying on my ass cheek. Way to go Mike! You can do it, dude. Go for it. I'll just lie here (how could I do anything else?) and let you explore all you want. You've been a good friend and I want you to know what my body feels like. His hand began to make small circles on my butt under the well-worn fabric.
Here, Mike, I'll give you something to feel, I thought, and I clenched my butt cheek changing it from firm but pliant to rock hard. Wow, Mike seemed to jump across the room when he felt me move. Well, I guess he thought I was asleep and wanted to explore without my knowing it. I guess that made sense. Guys don't usually let guys know when they look in locker rooms or the boys room. They look and keep their mouths shut. They certainly don't talk about it afterwards. So, why would a guy want another guy to know when he's touching him? It wasn't like this was sex or anything. That was what you did with girls when you put your dick inside. Guys didn't have a hole to stick it in, did they. Sex was with girls, touching with guys was sharing and exploring, getting to know each other better. Hell, I'd like to explore Tony and the feel of an uncut cock. But I didn't want sex with him, did I? Yeah, Mike didn't want me to know he was exploring my flesh. I'd better just lay here, like I was still out of it.
Eventually, Mike returned to rubbing my cheeks. He grabbed the flesh in great big handfuls and, then wiggled his finger between my cheeks. Then he slipped his hand out from under my shorts. I thought I heard the same sniff I'd heard that day in the locker room. I shifted, as if I was asleep, just enough to let me peek. He was smelling his fingers. He was smelling me on his fingers.
Cool. For some reason, I half expected him to lick them, to slide his fingers between his lips and wrap his tongue around them. But instead he returned his hand to rubbing my flesh. His hands slid around my trim waist and up my side. I flinched as he hit a ticklish spot, but this time Mike seemed bolder and he accepted my deep breathing to 'prove' I was asleep much more quickly. I shifted onto my back and almost felt Mike's eyes on my bare flesh and throbbing crotch. Then, there was just the lightest brush on the cloth covering my dick head. Mike's finger traced the ridge along the side and across that sensitive spot just below the piss slit. He then used two fingers to gently lift and cup the shaft through the fabric. No one had ever been so tender with me before. Slowly, I felt his warm hand slid under the waistband of my underwear. His fingers brushed through my pubic hair and touched my bare cock. He lightly traced down my cock and circled first the left ball, then the right. Then, I felt that hand retreat, and with the other, it pulled my underwear down, exposing my cock and balls to the night air. Those soft warm fingers returned to their gentle caresses of my dick, and my cock, already half-hard began to stiffen and become erect. Mike's hand wrapped around my dick and began to stroke very gently. I stopped breathing for a moment marveling at his touch. Then, as I relaxed his stroking became harder, and I became fully erect and leaking pre-cum. As if that was a cue, I felt Mike's breath as he lowered his head toward my crotch and took the head in his mouth.
I'd had my dick in several mouths before (all girls, of course) but had never wondered what it tasted like. Until now. Now, with a guy--and my buddy Mike at that--I somehow identified with both ends of the act, so to speak. I couldn't help but wonder how a cock would feel sliding behind my lips, and what does a dick taste like anyhow? Mike's lips paused at the head, and I felt his tongue run around the ridge and flick across the piss slit. He continued on down inch by inch until he had it half of it in his mouth. Then he seemed to gulp and swallow and I felt the rest slid in and down his throat.
My cock was pretty thick and a little over 7 inches so I wasn't used to someone taking it all so easily. Mike seemed inspired as he began to slid up and down faster an faster. His fingers rolled my balls. But I wasn't ready for what was next.
Mike used his free hand to maneuver my hand over to his rock hard cock. He wrapped my fingers around my first touch of male flesh. It was hard but soft, like steel covered in velvet. I began to explore, running my fingers around his spongy shaft. Mike froze. Shit! I'd blown his cover. He thought I was asleep! I stayed still and snored until his sucking started again. Ok, he thinks I'm fisting his dick in my sleep. Probably thinks I'm dreaming of beating myself off. Freed to continue, I pumped his cock as if it were my own. We soon had an easy rhythm with me pumping as his hot mouth slid along my shaft. My palm felt him shudder, and as his cock spasmed, Mike shot his wad on me and the bedsheets. His cum felt like hot lava on my forearm, and I shot my wad down Mike's willing throat. Wow, to take me like that! Feeling me pulse and throb as my cock lay on his tongue, and he licked me clean. His tongue licked through my pubic hair and along my shaft, searching for every last drop. I'd never felt so special before (and wondered if I'd ever feel that way again.) Mike cleaned the bed with an old sock from the hamper (one I'd used as a cum rage that morning!), and after giving my cock a goodnight kiss and ticking it into its jockey 'bedcovers', he lay down (still on the floor) and went to sleep.
My heart was pounding too much to sleep right away myself. And, I lay there trying to process what had just happened. Mike liked me. He had wanted to see me naked and hard, and I had set it up so that he could. Mike had wanted to explore me with more that just his eyes, and I had fixed it so he could. That exploration had been a bit more thorough than I had expected, but it certainly had been fun. Fun? Hell, it had been the best blow job ever! Was it just that he was a guy and knew the right places to touch with the fantastic tongue of his, or was it because it was Mike and I knew how special I was in his eyes? Certainly, no one had ever taken my cum and enjoyed its taste as Mike had. He really was a great friend, wasn't he?
Well, the next morning. Mike acted as if nothing had happened. We got up, got dressed, and went to hang out at the mall as planned. And he never said a word. At the mall, there was the usual gang hanging around. Missy was there with a bunch of her friends, wearing the usual tight shirts and shorts. Of course, I looked. They were girls and I was a guy, right? But I knew none of them would know the best places to lick, or would swallow like Mike did. I couldn't get my hard-on to fade, and knew that I'd have to arrange to be 'asleep' around Mike soon.
"Damn, I'm tired. All that alcohol last night really got to me. Mind if I take a nap?" I asked Mike as soon as we returned home and I knew Mom was out.
"No, go ahead. I might do the same." I hoped he wasn't really tired, as I stretched out on the couch making sure there was easy access to the hard budge pressing against my jeans. As soon as I started to snore, there was a (now) familiar pressure stroking my jeans. He popped the top button. Shifting the jeans and shorts down enough to expose my cock head, Mike lowered his head, and again I felt his breath on my dick and belly. His lips slip wetly over the head. He popped a few more buttons, freeing up more cock and he began his slide down.
That's when Mom's car door slammed. Mike jammed my dick back my jeans (damn, that hurt) and buttoned me back up. He fled across the room, and I rolled over to hide my erection. Mom ragged on me to stop "laying around and mow the yard." I had to 'wake up' and answer, and it was pretty clear I hadn't been asleep at all.
Now that Mike knew I wasn't asleep, would he continue with his explorations? Maybe if I kept quiet and kept the pretense alive, he would. After all, he was the one who wanted to play with a sleeping Todd. Give him the chance to pretend he still was, and why wouldn't he continue?
Well, he did. We spent the night at each other's houses often over the next few weeks. Each time I 'fell asleep' and got another great blow job. Occasionally Mike would remember to position my hand and I would get to jack him off as well. Then one night over at Mike's after I had stripped and had begun playing possum, Mike slipped out of all his clothes. Not only was this a first for him, but then Mike slipped on my football jersey. It fit him a little big, going down until it just covered his ass. He climbed up on the bed, straddling my knees with his and began to suck. Shortly into it, though, he stopped. Placing his hands near my shoulders, he shifted his weight forward until his face was suspended over mine. I could feel the tip of his hard cock brush against mine. He leaned further, and suddenly, through his parted lips, his breath was on my face. A guy was on top of me, his lips to mine, and we kissed. I trembled. How could lips be so smooth and soft? And on a guy? Yet there was a strength there too. I began the familiar act of kissing, moving the lips and opening the jaw, but this was different. Mike wasn't waiting for my moves. Here my actions were met by an equal. Hell, they were even anticipated. Indeed, Mike's tongue was the first to slid over lips and into the other's mouth. I could feel his need, his hunger, as that horny tongue invaded my mouth, running over my teeth and gums, warring with my own tongue.
No girl kissed like that! I didn't know what was happening to me. What was this passion? Where was it coming from?
Mike slid further forward and straddled my chest. I felt the tip of his cock, poking out from under my grimy jersey, touch my chin. My lips parted as he rubbed his cock across them. His cock entered my mouth. Pre-cum gave some needed lube (my mouth had gone suddenly dry), and Mike began to fuck. His first fuck (I was sure), and he handled it like a pro. Bucking in slowly at first, then finding his rhythm as his cock hit home. I gagged, of course, and he paused, looking at me with those big puppy eyes. "Only you," I murmured around his cock, and he continued to fuck my face. Looking at the cock disappear into me, I understood what it meant to accept another totally, to give myself totally to another. No wonder girls like to be fucked. What a wonderful feeling to know that another was inside you, that you were giving such pleasure to another. Unfortunately for girls they couldn't know how good it felt to fuck. I did and knew exactly how great Mike must be feeling right now.
But he didn't keep at it long. He slid back down my body, and I expected his tongue to replace his cock in my month. Instead, I felt his buttcheeks slip over and around MY cock. He swung around a bit and I actually slide into his crack. He sat upright, and the tip of my cock was pushing against his butthole! He reached around and pulled his cheeks further apart and lowered himself onto my dick. His hole was hot and tight, and my cock bent from the attempt to penetrate him. Feeling a desperate need to be inside him, I grabbed Mike's hips and pulled him down onto me. He must have felt the same need, 'cause he reached back, straightened my rod, and aimed it right at his hole. Suddenly, I popped in. I felt him tense with pain, but knowing neither of us could stop know, threw my hips upward and pulled him lower. Slowly, I was completely surrounded by his hot flesh. He grunted again, and his face twisted in pain, but I gently bucked my hips, fucking in and out of him just a tiny bit. He began to leak fluid, or maybe it was my pre-cum, and the fucking became easier. Just a moment ago I had been giving myself to Mike, and now he was giving himself to me. And in a more important and powerful way than Missy ever could. Mike was having to make do with the equipment God gave him, and it was obvious that taking a cock up such a small hole was more painful than a pussy would ever feel. How wonderful he was to take it for me. For me. He was giving it up for me. And, he was loving it. That much was clear from rock hard erection he stroked in time to my fucks. He beat off, and I pounded his ass. Such a tight sweet ass. In no time I was shooting an all time wad deep inside of him. I lay back, my dick still buried in his tight hole. Even as I went soft, my dick stayed inside as if it never wanted to leave. Then, I became aware of the slapping sound of Mike's hand on his cock, just before he creamed all over my chest.
Mike pulled off me, releasing my dick and went to the bathroom. I ran my hand down my belly, rubbing his cum into my flesh. I wanted him to be part of me, as I was part of him deep in his ass. So, I scooped up as much of his spunk as I could and drizzled it on my tongue. I guess I expected it to taste different from mine. But, Mike seemed to be my 'taste twin.' I liked that, and I purred as my hands continued rubbing cum into my chest, belly and crotch. But what was this? Down there was a smear of something else. Not cum, the pale moonlight showed it to be blood. Not mine, it must be Mike's. I'd heard that girls bled when they had sex for the first time (tho' none of mine had), and this was surely Mike's first time. Wow, Mike had given me his cherry. Whatever happened, I would always be the first. He had liked me that much! Suffused with a warm glow, I shifted over to make room for my friend, and drifted off to sleep.
But, Mike didn't sleep with me that night. He'd stayed curled up on the floor in his usual place. And why not? He'd gotten what he wanted. He had been curious for my body for months. Finally he has felt, touched, tasted, licked all he could (there couldn't be any more, could there?) And it wasn't like we were dating. Or having sex. Those were things you did with girls. Hadn't I been dating Missy all this time? And having sex (or as she said 'making love') with her, even while 'falling asleep' with Mike? With Missy it was just sex. With Mike it was exploration, getting to know one another better. It was admiration, respect, and sharing. With Mike it was give and take. With Missy, it was just sex. That was what girls were for, wasn't it? Besides Mike and I weren't dating or anything. We were just two guys hanging out. Right? I went home that morning a very confused guy.
The next day, I was still sorting out what had happened when the shit hit the fan. Mike had come bounding over right after school, and as soon as we were alone in my room, he pounced. Throwing himself on me, he tried to kiss me! I know we had done something like that last time we were alone, but that was as part of our sharing and exploring. Guy don't just kiss each other like that! That's what pansy-assed queers do. And I ain't that!
"What the hell are you doing?"
"You don't have to pretend anymore," he said. "It's okay. No one will know, and you can have me any time you want."
"What the fuck are you talking about?" I spat out. "Are you nuts? What the fuck do you mean? Are you a faggot or something?"
"Todd, what are you saying? Why are you doing this?"
"Mike, I think you should get the hell out of here, right now."
Yes, I said it and it wasn't pretty. Those puppy eyes died that day. I knew there was no way to take back the hurt I had caused. Mike hadn't done anything wrong. Fuck, I'd encouraged and arranged almost everything that had happened. And, I had to go and call him the most evil and hateful word one young teenage male can call another. Even if it is technically true. Yes, I came to realize that Mike was gay. Shit, I came to realize that I was too.
I'd been so trapped in that macho world of sports and sex-talk bullshitting that I thought that must be the real me. I had developed early and became a pussy magnet. I never had to want it and seek it out. It came to me. And what horny pubescent male would turn down a warm wet place to stick it in and shove it around. I was fucking girls, and certainly didn't fit the pansy stereotype. How could I be anything but straight?
Easy. Sex was something I did with girls. Mike taught me that giving myself---taking and receiving affection and admiration--was something I did with guys. Beyond the physical poking, I just couldn't relate to girls the way I did to Mike. Mike was another guy. He understood my needs (not just physical!) and I understood his. Mike was all that I wanted in someone to share my life--in and out of bed. So, we ended like in the fairytales. Not!
I never could face Mike after that day. I had caused too much pain, and winced at the fear that I may cause more. It became easier to avoid him after school began again; he being in all those advance placement classes and all. When I did see him, his eyes went cold. Man, how he must hate me! We drifted by until graduation.
Me? My macho image kept my secret safe in High School. I told Missy that I had decided to stop 'doing it' as I had come to respect "women too much to use them." (She dumped me to start fucking Tony!) I became the perfect date in all the Mothers' eyes: polite, handsome, celibate. I discovered that I did have a head for numbers (accounting, not calculus) and went on a football scholarship to work on an MBA. In my sophomore year, I fell head over heels for my hairdresser. Carl showed me the ins and outs of the hair biz (and a few other ins and outs too!), and we opened a chain of shops after my graduation. The chain is doing well. I got them in the 'divorce.' Now, my high school reunion is fast approaching. I wonder if Mike will be there.