All the characters and events in this story are fictitious. Any resemblance to real people, either living or dead, is entirely unintentional.
The story is copyrighted and may not be reproduced in any way without the express permission of the author who can be contacted at pjalexander1753@gmail.com
A Very Ordinary Boy (Part 1)
From Chapter 9:
Noah tells me all this as we drive towards the camp site and, by the time he's finished, my head is all over the place. Everything I thought I knew about him and Tani he's completely turned upside down. And not just that. Now I'm even more puzzled as to why he wants to spend his weekend with me when he's got the perfect opportunity to hit the bars and get himself thoroughly and cock-numbingly laid. I don't understand but I keep my mouth shut and wait to see how the rest of the trip pans out. Basically I'm just totally stoked that, for whatever reason, it's me that he's gonna be spending the next 24 hours with and I'm determined to make the most of it.
But now I'm whacked and need to sleep so you'll have to wait till next time to find out how Ordinary Jack finally had his cherry taken. I think you'll think it was worth the wait. I'm not sure I do.
Chapter 10: Said the spider to the fly.
I was telling you about the really weird car ride to the campsite. Well, the ride itself was pretty ordinary but Noah's story about him and Tani was definitely a long way along the weird scale. So, it turns out they weren't the `couple couple' that everyone believed, but were, actually, each other's cover. How intense is that? Especially for Tani after her horrible experience with the older guy. Each time I looked at Noah my hero-worship of him went up another notch, and thinking about Tani just made me feel guilty for all those negative feelings I had had towards her. But how amazing was Noah? Not just for rescuing her from the deserted farmhouse and cooking up a story to convince her parents about how she got her injuries, but also for protecting her from any unwanted attention that would've come her way if she's been suddenly and obviously single. She was, after all, a very attractive girl, even I, the hopeless gayboy, could see that. Of course, he got something out of it too, pulling the wool over his dad's eyes while secretly having his pick of every easy girl in town. Bet he made the most of that.
But I didn't have time to think about it `cause, as soon as we arrived at the campsite and had found our pitch, Noah was unloading the bikes saying he wanted to get a ride in before it got too dark. The next thing I knew he was pulling off his chinos -- no, don't get excited, it was all completely innocent (unfortunately). Underneath he had on a pair of skin-tight cycling shorts which, surprise, surprise, instantly had me very excited. Thankfully I was wearing a loose fit pair of sweat pants so Mr. Boner stayed safely out of sight (or so I thought). Within just a few minutes of parking up we were heading off through the trees, making for the nearest of several small lakes which, Noah yelled at me, were scattered across the park.
For the first half hour the track was more or less level and wide enough for us to ride side by side. I asked how Noah knew the area so well and he told me that his family had been coming there ever since he was a young boy. He said it had been a particular favourite of his mum and once she left the family his dad had pretty much refused to go back. Luckily Aidan, Noah's older brother, had always been a fan of the place too so as soon as he got his licence the two boys used to overnight there together. When I asked when had been the last time they'd teamed up Noah suddenly went very quiet and didn't answer the question. At the time I thought it was because the trail had suddenly become much steeper and narrower so conversation wasn't really possible. It was only later, a lot later, that I found out that there was a much deeper reason for him clamming up.
As the trail narrowed Noah moved to the front, leaving me with a view I will never forget -- his shiny, black lycra-clad butt, raised up off the bike seat, as he pumped his muscled thighs to get up the slope. His cheeks flexed, first the left and then the right, as he forced his way uphill. Fuck, it was an amazing picture, one that I knew was gonna provide hours of happy wanking stimulus for weeks to come. The downside was that that wonderful picture had the inevitable effect on my cock. I don't know if you've ever tried riding a bike with a very hard racing saddle, trying to keep up with a super-fit nineteen year-old god, when you've got a raging hard-on and super-charged balls. Well, I can tell you that it hurts like a bitch. Thank fuck that we soon got to the top of the slope and started going down towards the lake at the bottom where we both collapsed in a heap of spinning wheels and heaving chests. Talking of chests, the ride had made us both pretty sweaty and the result was that Noah's T clung to his pecs like a second skin. Any chance of my boner going down was a total no-hoper so I quickly turned to lay on my front to keep it out of sight.
You're probably expecting me to say now that, at this point, we both stripped off and dived into the lake to wash off the sweat, inevitably leading to a hot and heavy make-out and mutual wanking session. Sorry to disappoint you but it was late September and although it had been a bright, sunny day, as the afternoon had gone on the temperature had started to drop so there was no way either of us was gonna get naked and goose-bumped in the cooling water. Instead, after catching our breath and spending a few minutes enjoying the view, we just wetted our faces to freshen up and climbed back on our bikes. My ball-sack wasn't looking forward to the ride back up the hill so you can probably guess how pleased it was when we set off along a wide, level track which, Noah announced, was my reward for keeping up with him so well on the outward journey. He said that on his rides with Aidan, his brother was always pushing to go harder and faster so he, Noah, was genuinely impressed that I had done so well. I hadn't realised the ride had been a sort of test of my fitness but I was definitely hugely pleased, not to mention really surprised, to have passed. (You'll have noticed that I'm not the most athletic guy you've ever met, despite working out with my dad's weights for the last few months). I rode back to the pitch with a huge smile on my face and, pretty much for the first time since we'd set out on the ride, a sleeping cock in my briefs.
When we got back to the van Noah sent me to look for dry branches that could be put in the fire pit while he sorted out something to eat. Once I was back and had unloaded a good pile of twigs and branches I noticed that Noah had been really busy. The tarp that had been spread over the sleeping pad to protect it from the bikes had now been taken out and was being used as overnight protection for them, stacked against a nearby tree, leaving the floor of the van covered with the four-inch thick foam pad and a couple of sleeping bags. Seeing the pad and the bags had me instantly hard again (talk about being young, hung and desperate -- not that I was very hung, but you know what I mean). I was soon gonna have to find an excuse to sneak away into the woods so I could give my balls the release they were aching for. I started to dread the moment when we'd be settling down for the night. How was I possibly gonna sleep lying next to my living, breathing wank-fantasy? Even more scary was the idea that I might manage to nod off and then, somehow, in my sleep, reach over and touch him in an inappropriate way (not that there was any way that was appropriate). With every passing minute I was regretting ever agreeing to come on this weekend. Oh yes, I realised that I just hadn't thought through all the possible implications and complications.
I must have zoned out, stressing about the night to come, `cause the next thing I was aware of was Noah, standing in front of me, telling me to hurry up and get the fire going and pointing out that it was quickly getting dark. And he was right. Our little pitch was filling with shadows as the sun started to set behind the trees to our right. The atmosphere was quiet and peaceful but inside my head the worries refused to calm down. I guessed that it was gonna be a hard night, I just didn't know then just how hard, in more ways than one.
Thirty or so minutes later, with the fire burning well and the two sleeping bags spread out on the ground beside it, Noah fetched the FfT box that Michelle had given me as I left. Out of it he took a selection of Michelle's most popular bakes -- savoury pies and tarts, veggie sausage rolls and several sweet pastries -- enough to keep us fed for about a week. And that wasn't all. Hidden away under a cloth in a corner of the box was a flask of still-hot chocolate and a bag of marshmallows, so no prizes for working out how we finished our meal.
As we waited for the marshmallows to toast, and with our bellies full and the fire wrapping us in a warm and cosy glow, we started to talk. Noah wanted to know about my parents (we didn't spend long on that topic), school (I admitted that I knew I could do better but couldn't really get my shit together enough) and friends (I gave a brief run-down of the falling-out with Dyl and Si). As the evening turned to night and the darkness crept up around us I somehow found the balls to do some gentle probing of my own. Over the years I'd learnt enough from my adolescent-psychologist mother to know that it wouldn't be a good idea to quiz him about his mum, so I steered clear of that cliff edge by asking him about the thing that really interested me -- his knowledge about, and interest in, art. Ever since I'd started to get to know him, several months before, I'd been intrigued by the contrast between the public image of Noah Richmond -- brash, superficial, uninformed former high school jock -- and the private Noah who had a serious love for, and appreciation of, fine art, especially Italian Renaissance art. And not just that, but art with very definite homo-erotic overtones.
When I first asked the question it took a while for Noah to answer. In fact, it seemed as if he was finding ways of avoiding answering. He poked the fire, he poured more hot chocolate, he asked if I wanted extra marshmallows. When the answer did eventually come I found out that I hadn't been as sensitive as I'd been congratulating myself for by not asking about his parents. Noah told me that his mum's family, several generations back, had emigrated from Italy (just like mine had come from Spain. What a great coincidence.) and that she had always been interested in anything to do with the `old country'. And not just that. It turned out that she had been quite a talented artist herself and had completed the first year of a fine art degree course at a famous art college somewhere across the country, but then both her parents had fallen ill and she had been forced to give up her studies to go home and take care of them. But it seemed she never forgot that year at college, especially all the visits to art galleries and museums, even, on one occasion, a trip to Florence, Tuscany. So Noah had grown up listening to his mum's stories about Renaissance art and being encouraged by her to develop his own growing interest in artists such as Donatello and Botticelli and Michelangelo.
Just at the point where it looked like the real Noah Richmond might be peeping out from under the macho surface he announced that it was more or less dark and, despite the fire, pretty cold, so time to get cleared up and ready to get some sleep. Although I had to agree with him, that didn't stop me suspecting that it was no coincidence that he had changed the subject as soon as there was a danger that our conversation was getting too personal and revealing. With the fire damped down and the sleeping bags back in the van I asked, for the first time, about where I could pee and clean my teeth. For the peeing he pointed back towards the woods, adding that it was also the place for any other necessary natural function, either then or in the morning (did he mean taking a dump or wanking? I didn't have the balls to ask!) and for the teeth he pointed at the stream which flowed along the eastern edge of our pitch.
When I got back to the van Noah was already zipped up. I climbed in and closed the back doors behind me, never more nervous in all of my seventeen years. I just knew that this was one of those times that my very ordinary life had not prepared me for. I didn't know what to do. Should I get out of any of the clothes I'd been wearing all day or just crawl into my bag as I was? Noah was lying with his head, shoulders and arms visible so I could see that he was still wearing his T. But what about lower down? I must have had a rabbit caught in the headlights' look on my face cause he grinned (not in an unkind way) and told me to keep on my T, underwear and socks but to lose the sweatpants. Grateful for the advice I sat down and began to lower my sweats. Only when they were down round my ankles did I realise that I was undressing in front of another boy for the first time in my life (the locker room didn't count, obviously) and not just any boy but Noah "The Most Beautiful Boy in The World" Richmond. So what did my cock do? Of course it did. And of course it made sure that it was standing to attention in full view, pushing out from my briefs. And what he said next I remember word for word.
"Does that a lot, doesn't it?" the grin on his face now even wider. "I noticed it before. You know, on the drive down here and when we were riding that trail."
I could feel my face turn the colour of a dinner-ready lobster and my tongue tie itself into an undoable knot. He told me not to sweat it cause, even though he was nearly twenty years old, his still did it all the time. And that was supposed to make me feel better? It actually made the whole thing worse cause straight away my mental image of him naked in the shower surged into my head, and you can guess the effect that had on me. I turned away but immediately felt a hand on my shoulder. And that, of course, only added even more to the steeliness of my hard-on. The hand began to gently rub between my shoulder blades but I shrugged it off, determined not to make an awkward situation even more difficult -- for either of us. As quickly as I could I crawled into my sleeping bag, turned away from Noah and mumbled, "Good night." Yes, I heard him apologise for making me feel uncomfortable but there was no way I was gonna keep the conversation going, no matter what that might make him think of me.
Shit! Shit! Shit! What an idiot. There I was with the one person in the world who I REALLY wanted to spend time with and get to know, maybe even become a good friend of, and I was totally blowing it. What a giant-sized moron! You'd think I would have spent the rest of the night unable to sleep, repeatedly going over those awkward few moments in my head. Well I didn't. Truth is, I was asleep just about instantly and there were no dreams to disturb that sleep, at least none that I could remember in the morning.
What there was was cold, not surprising really given that we were in the back of an unheated tin box with the temperature outside getting close to freezing. I don't know how long I'd been asleep, two or three hours at the most, but I woke up shivering and with my teeth chattering so loud I was sure the noise would wake Noah. I tried snuggling further down into my sleeping bag but that made totally no difference so I started feeling round in the dark for my sweats, or anything else that might help to warm me up. Of course I couldn't find them, instead I found Noah, or, at least, I found the side of his face. He must have been awake too `cause, without missing a beat, he asked if I had been woken up by the cold. I told him I had and he said he knew a way we could both get warm and, hopefully, back to sleep. He said it was something his dad had taught him from his days in the army and did I want to give it a try? It didn't take me any time at all to decide that I was willing to do anything to stop being so cold and that's what I told him.
First he said we needed to zip the two sleeping bags together so we could share our body heat. The seventeen year-old closeted gayboy that I was, alone with his number one wanking fantasy and terrified of being found out, had a brief awareness of just how dangerous that suggestion could be before he knew that anything had to be better than the deep, numbing cold that he was feeling. I wriggled out of my bag and began to feel around in the pitch darkness for Noah's so they could be fitted together. That wasn't so easy to achieve and there was a lot of swearing, mainly from Noah who kept calling himself out for not packing a torch.
But eventually the zipping up was done and I was just about to get inside when Noah delivered the bomb shell. The best way of achieving the quickest and most effective way of sharing body heat, he said, was when those bodies were naked. What?!!! That's gotta be some kind of joke, yes? But no, he said he was 100% serious. Clothes only got in the way of the heat transferring from one body to another so naked was what they had to be. You know, if I'd read this scenario in a story I wouldn't have believed it, but it was clear that Noah was being completely serious and I'd pretty much backed myself into a corner by agreeing to go along with it and there was no way I could refuse now without arousing his suspicions. After all, we were just two ordinary guys who really, really needed to get warm. Weren't we? There were no underlying factors. Were there? It was all completely innocent. Wasn't it?
You'll have noticed how I was desperately trying to convince myself to do what Noah was expecting, even though I knew at the back of my gayboy brain that there was a real danger of my body completely letting me down and outing me to Noah, and just what a disaster that would be. Well it worked, convincing myself I mean. Of course it made sense and of course there could be nothing to worry about. Could there? I mean, where was the danger in the pathetically closeted me, with the hardest and most demanding boner of his life, getting skin-on-skin naked with his secret crush, his secret and undeniably straight crush? Off came the socks, then the T and finally the briefs which, as I pulled them down and, just to make the situation absolutely perfect, momentarily trapped my cock before releasing it to slap up against my tummy with a sound that every post-pubescent boy would instantly recognise. Maybe I should just give up and allow myself to freeze to death. Surely that had to be better than dying of embarrassment. With as much `I'm not intimidated by this situation' attitude as I could muster I scrambled into the zipped up double sleeping bag and turned on my side, away from Noah. Surely back-to-back contact would be just as effective for sharing body heat. Apparently not.
I heard Noah say that I needed to turn round so we would be face-to-face, but I ignored him. Maybe he'd think I was already asleep. He didn't. He said it again and this time, when I didn't respond, he put a hand (not a very warm one) on my shoulder and began to gently pull me towards him. I wanted to resist, I really did. But I didn't. Once I'd got as far as lying on my back Noah spoke again. I was sure at the time that he was trying to be reassuring (though I had second thoughts later) when he said he had a boner too and that it was no biggie!! Okay, so yes, I laughed and so did he and somehow the tension that had built up in the previous few minutes completely disappeared. If I'd known what as soon gonna happen it sure as fuck wouldn't have.
As an author, it's REALLY encouraging to know that there are people out there who are taking the time to read what's been written, and then bothering to send a response. So please do feel free to write to me at the email address given at the top of the chapter. I welcome all comments and guarantee to write back. PJ
To keep this amazing resource open and freely available to readers everywhere, please consider donating to:
https://donate.nifty.org/