The following fictional story deals with sex among males. If you are offended by such material, are too young, or reside in an area where it is not allowed, depart. Though not observed in this story, care enough about yourself and humankind to practice safe sex.
The author retains all rights. No reproductions or links to other sites are allowed without the author's consent.
EBradley33@Excite.com
Chapter 22
Mansex, Surrender, Manlove
A couple of weeks had passed since my return to school. My stamina had increased, in part, because I decided to forsake seclusion during the lunch period and walk the halls to build strength. Because of my noontime practice, stairs were no longer such a problem. I was pleased with my progress.
At the end of my second day of school, I had discouraged offers of help from solicitous students, for I needed to learn to get along under my own power. As I was putting folders and papers in my attache, Jim Belton had suddenly appeared in my doorway. "Ready to try the stairs, Evan?"
"Yes, Jim, and I really appreciate your seeing me along the way."
"I'll let you carry your own things this time. That's what you'll have to do when you are on your own. I always figured you as the kind of man who wanted to make his way under his own power."
I had smiled at him. "You're an astute observer, Jim." I put my attache strap over my head, grabbed my lunch bag, and we were off to the stairs. We had walked in silence, nothing needing to be said, given our understanding of each other.
When we reached the stairs, I had shifted my crutch while Jim watched patiently. We moved down the stairs somewhat faster than the previous day. At the bottom of the steps, I returned the crutch I'd been carrying to under my arm. Then I had moved up to Jim and hugged him. I felt him stiffen. "Jim, you're special for looking after me." I looked up into his eyes. "It isn't the first time. It makes me feel like I'm worth something."
He hadn't cracked a smile, but his eyes had softened from their usual near-glare. He hugged me back for a moment, then released me and stepped back. "Glad to help anytime. Just ask."
"I shall." I had moved to the door and out into the parking lot. When I looked back, he was still standing there watching my progress to the car. As I drove away and looked back, he was still watching me. Then he gave me a small, shy wave goodbye. If the going ever gets rough, I had thought, Jim's someone I can go to. A rock. I hope that's what I am to others. I wonder if Jim ever needs anyone. Has he a family? I need to be a LaRonda - secure more information.
- * * I was spending the evening in my study completing revisions to my semester lesson plan. I was feeling good: the revised plan would put my students and me back on track. We would be able to finish the academic year on target as far as the objectives for my classes were concerned.
While allowing my thoughts to wander, I was gazing above my desk at a copy of a Breughel village scene under grey winter skies. It led to a reverie about winter, snow, a nip in the air, holidays, which led me to think of my students. In terms of their development in just about any area, most were ahead of what might be considered target. Jeremy, Susan, Troy, Kenny, Tony, Angela, Jarod - they were all maturing faster than I expected. Well, when it came to Susan, I could celebrate only growth in her skills. In every other way she was a mature woman, the equal of any of my women colleagues. Must be her mother's influence. I HAD to meet that woman someday. I expected to be as dazzled by her as I was by Susan.
Troy - there was a dynamo. And Jeremy, his twin. "Power Rangers" popped into my mind, bringing a smile to my face. They were rocketing toward maturity. Kenny, sweet Kenny, how was he doing I suddenly wondered? I frowned. I needed to be more observant, check to see how it was going with him. But with Kenny, it was probably going however it was going with Jeremy. They were moving closer together. I remembered how "up" Kenny had been the night of Jeremy's party. He was genuinely happy for Jeremy, so his "high" owed entirely to Jeremy's happiness. That told me their relationship had possibilities.
The phone's ringing wrenched me from my reverie. "Were you sitting by the phone, waiting for my call?" asked Jeremy.
"No, just doing some work here at the desk. What's up?"
"I have problems, Evan," Jeremy confessed. The defeat in his voice suddenly registered. This wasn't the usual Jeremy.
"Shoot," I directed.
"My car died. Can you come pick me up?"
"Of course. I'll be there soon. Where will you be?"
"I'll be watching from the main door of the store. Don't park. Just drive up. I'll hop in."
"Do you think it's the battery or something like that?"
"No. Roger, a guy who works in the automotive department here, says the Beast has given up the ghost. I could tell when I was driving to work that it wasn't running right."
"Okay, we'll figure out what to do on the way home. Do you think you should call Kenny to see if you can hitch a ride tomorrow? You're welcome to ride with me, but that won't cover all your transportation needs."
"I'll call him now. He'll give me a ride tomorrow. It will give me a chance to check those beautiful eyes and that tight, sexy little body and poochy ass early in the morning."
I laughed. "You think they're different in the morning as opposed to the night? Maybe you should wait outside so that you can cool off."
"When it comes to Kenny, a Nor'wester wouldn't cool me off."
"See you in a bit." I grabbed my coat. The nippy evening temperatures were harbingers of Thanksgiving, which was next week. As I drove to the mega-discount store, I mused again about Jeremy and Kenny. They had gone out with Tony and Angela two Saturdays before. It had begun with dinner at a nice restaurant, but not Francini's. Tony had decided that they would be interrupted all the time if the group ate there, so they had gone to a little specialty restaurant that Tony had wanted to try - candlelight dining, soft music, secluded tables. Called Shadows, the restaurant had atmosphere. According to Jeremy, both couples had gotten into a romantic mood. Tony and Angela didn't mind Jeremy's and Kenny's expressions of how they were feeling - handholding, a kiss, spoken endearments. Jeremy thought it was cool that Tony and Angela joined in, making it natural for all of them to behave that way.
I wondered if Tony had chosen that restaurant on purpose. Of course he had! A couple of months ago, I wouldn't have thought Tony sensitive enough for such a gesture, but his behavior since the accident told me that he was quite an intentional fellow - just like Troy and Jeremy. They had spent the rest of the evening at a teen dance hall where anyone danced with anyone, Jeremy disclosed. No problems for him and Kenny dancing together. Yet they had danced with Angela and others in their circle of friends too. After the hall closed, they had retreated to our sunroom for post-evening snacks and drinks and visiting. I had been dead to the world. I tried to be that way every night so that there would be no memories.
While I was finishing breakfast the following morning, Jeremy had told me sleepily - as he grabbed some yogurt and toast and coffee - that Tony and Angela had left at 3 a.m. Just then Kenny had wandered into the kitchen, clad only in his briefs. The snowy white cotton stretched tightly across that beautiful, sexy ass. I had wondered how much my sex life would be improved with an ass like that. Tim would still be around. No, I wasn't to go there. He had walked over and laid a hot kiss on Jeremy. Then he had moved over to me, leaned down and laid one nearly as hot on me. Wow! I could stand waking up to those any morning.
The following Saturday, Jeremy and Kenny had accompanied Troy and Susan and LaRonda and Clifton to the movies. Again, they had retreated to the sunroom for snacks and visiting afterward. I was pleased that Jeremy was using the room as a favorite place to entertain his friends. As before, I had been dead to the world.
That must have been something - Susan and LaRonda together. One would have to be on his toes in the company of those two. I couldn't help but infer that there was some deliberate programming afoot in including Jeremy and Kenny with the couples. More a tacit understanding among the gang that Jeremy and Kenny would be equally visible among them. None of that "hanging around the fringes of the group" business for Jeremy or Kenny. None of that including Jeremy and Kenny only when it was convenient. I loved these kids for their open, caring hearts.
As I curved around in the parking lot to approach the main entrance with the passenger side toward the doors, I spotted Jeremy. Though tall, this setback with the Beast had him hunched over in dejection. Darn it.
He opened the door and flopped into the car seat, closing the door after him and buckling himself in. "Thanks, Evan, for picking me up."
"My pleasure. Here's what I think we should do. You veto whatever you think won't work. By the way, I didn't see your car. Where is it?"
"Behind the store."
"Can you leave it there for a day or two?"
"Yeah. Mr. French, the manager, said I could when he heard about my trouble."
"Okay. There's an Enterprise fleet lot where cars that are being removed from rental service, sometimes after only a year, are sold. They are usually good buys. Choose a couple of the guys who know about cars - does Troy know about cars?"
"Yeah, lots." I could hear his voice picking up some tone.
"Okay. You guys go scope out a car for you. Pick one that you think you can live with for a few years. Then I'll join you for negotiations."
He eyed me. "Where's the money coming from? I don't think anyone will give me anything for the Beast."
"I want you to sell the Beast for scrap and keep the money. Tomorrow, call a junkyard to arrange for them to pick up your car. Be certain you have the title with you. Don't expect much back. You are really paying them to take it off your hands and deal with the final paperwork. I'll stake you to the replacement car on one condition."
"Yeah?" he asked warily.
"You have to go to the career office tomorrow and check out some college catalogs preparatory to making a decision about where you plan to study for your degree. And don't ask where the money for that is coming from. We already had this discussion the evening you came to live at home."
"Damn, Evan. You really know how to beat a guy into the dirt when he's down, don't you?" he said, grinning from ear to ear.
"Surely you have learned by now not to mess with me when I make up my mind about something. We'll have the car put in your name since you're 18, but I'll pay the taxes and insurance. I can get a deal with my insurance company on combined coverage for this car and yours along with the insurance on our home. Choose a car that will last you through college. To do that, you'll want to talk to the sales person about maintenance records and costs. Maybe a Honda."
"I'm not feeling entirely comfortable with your paying for the car, Evan."
"Oh, did I forget to tell you?"
"Huh?"
"You don't have veto power over that part of the arrangement."
He was silent for a bit. "You've done so much for me, Evan. When does it stop?"
"I don't plan for it to stop." Silence reigned for about three blocks. "Jeremy, my list of friends is short. That's my fault. I know when I buy this car that I'm not buying your friendship, but I am doing what I would want to do for a close friend. More to the point, although I would dearly love one, I'll never have a son. What I want to do for you is what I would do for my son. Understand - I'm not horning in on your parents, not crowding them out. I'm not forcing a substitute father on you. If you're absolutely opposed to that or don't want to be anything like a putative son, I'll honor your feelings. But it would be a kick for me, personally, to be able to contribute toward your future this way. Other than the house and this car, I haven't had anything - or anyone since the divorce - to spend money on. And I really don't spend money much, so I can afford it."
"But how will I ever repay it?"
"Pass it on - to your children if you have any or to someone else. You know: the gift that keeps on giving? Real social investment and poetic justice."
"I thought poetic justice was always punishment."
"Well, let's rewrite that history. Besides, this is your punishment for being such a great guy. You think I haven't benefited from your moving into our home, from your care and concern, from your hunkiness and horniness?" I leered.
"It's worked both ways, you know."
"Then don't mess with a good arrangement."
As soon as we arrived home, Jeremy looked up the location of the Enterprise lot in the phone book. Next, he wrote down the phone numbers of some auto salvage businesses. Then he called Troy to ask if he and a couple of the guys who knew about cars could go with him the next day to the Enterprise lot. Troy said that Gabe Hinton or Reg Newton knew a lot about cars, so he'd ask them to go along. Then Jeremy had to call Kenny with the good news. I was in the kitchen savoring a cup of Earl Grey tea. Jeremy was in the study. With each call I could hear the excitement in his voice growing. A quiet smile spread across my face. I felt great.
- * * The next day, a student helper from the principal's office delivered a note from Dottie Weiberg requesting that I talk to her about Elena Kyropolous, a senior student we shared in common. I sent back a note telling her that I'd come by her office during the lunch period.
After downing my lunch, I was occupying a bench set against the railing on a "balcony" floor where Dottie's classroom was located. Awaiting her return from the cafeteria, I was out of sight of a group of jocks down below, standing just inside the hall that headed out from the lower foyer. They couldn't see me on the landing above unless they walked out almost to the center of the foyer and looked back and up, but I could hear them all the time and see them if I leaned out over the railing. Jim Marbury, the star forward on the basketball team, and three other jocks were talking. Bill Waller was complaining about being bored, not having any excitement in his life. Pat Danton teased, "Well, date one of these little freshmen women who tremble at the thought of being in the arms of a jock. I think you won't be bored much longer."
"Or here's another idea," Jim Marbury added. "I just heard Greg Dunwoodie is a queer. Let's corner him and give him some trouble, knock him around a little bit. There's Kenny Walters too. I think he's a little fag. I always see him with Jeremy Wilder. Maybe there's a pair there." Though he didn't see me on the landing above, I saw Troy walk up behind the group. He had obviously heard Jim's suggestion.
"Hey Troy," Gabe Hinton said, "You hate fags. Wanna knock some around?"
"No, I wouldn't be interested. You're thinking of the old stupid Troy, not the smarter, wiser version. Greg Dunwoodie is not only a classmate of mine, but he's also a friend. You should also know," Troy added, looking squarely at Jim, "that Greg's boyfriend is a college student, lumberjack type, flannel and all that. He's bigger than any of you. If you pounded Greg, he'd pound you into the ground. Don't think you'd be playing much ball after he finished. The college scouts who are studying the seniors now are looking us juniors over too to prepare for next season's scouting. You want to run the risk of their not seeing you play? You should also know that Jeremy and Kenny are personal friends of mine - close friends!" he said, with emphasis on the "close." "Besides, you guys sound like a bunch of redneck homophobes. What's with you? Gabe, I never thought you were so close-minded."
Shuffling of feet followed. They hadn't expected this reaction from Troy. "That's a different tune from what you used to sing," Jim Marbury challenged. What happened? Lose your strength?"
"What's strength got to do with beating up on a guy because he's gay? Yeah, I used to think the way you do. I nearly lost Susan and a good friend over it."
"What happened?" Gabe asked.
"They shut me out. Turned off. Wouldn't talk to me. I wasn't worthy of them any longer."
"Who was the good friend?" Bill asked.
"The point isn't who it was. The point is that I would be poorer today if they hadn't set me straight. Susan and my friend have given me so much, made me stronger, made me think better. Even more, they were generous enough to forgive me."
"But Greg Dunwoodie is just this egghead nerd. Nobody cares about him," Jim remonstrated. "You're sounding like you're pussy-whipped."
Ah-oh. I could see only the side of Troy's face, but I knew the hot gleam that leapt into his eyes upon hearing Jim's remark about being pussy-whipped.
Troy put his hand about the back of Jim's neck, slowly tightening his grip. I could see his knuckles turning white due to the pressure he was exerting. Jim's face colored, and he winced for a moment. "I tell you what, Jim. The captain of the basketball team is going to give you an assignment. You have three days to find out three good things about Greg. In three days, you come tell me what those things are. Don't make me come look for you. And you make certain Greg knows three good things about you. I'll sound him out about them after I talk to you."
Hey, an Evan Halsey assignment! Troy has been paying more attention than thought.
"Or what?" challenged Jim.
"Jim, you're not the most admired member of the team. Believe me, I'm not alone in thinking that. Would you like to be an outcast on the team? In this school?"
"Shit, man, let go. You're killing my neck," Jim complained, more because of the tight place he'd gotten himself into with Troy and in front of the other players, I surmised, than from any pain Troy was causing.
Troy smiled, his killer dimples prominent, moving around more to face Jim. "By the way, you should be so lucky as to have a woman like Susan in your life. You probably won't have such a woman because your remark about being pussy-whipped indicates that you don't know the first thing about building a relationship with a woman based on respect. That applies to your relationships with guys too - probably even those on the team," and he looked at the other players as he was making that statement. I wondered if they got the point.
"One of Susan's beautiful qualities is that she not only cares about me, but she cares about other people too," Troy continued. He focused on Bill, Gabe, and Pat. "You guys want to say anything?"
"No," Gabe answered. "I'm sorry, Troy." The other two shook their heads in the negative and shoved their hands in their jeans pockets.
"Good. I couldn't respect anyone who hurt one of my friends. It would lead to other actions on my part. And you shouldn't underestimate Jeremy Wilder. We're best buds. Jeremy could take out any one of you if he put his mind to it, especially if he were into 'pay-back' mode. We'd best be getting to our next classes. Jim, I'll be waiting." The group scattered like bugs running when a rock is lifted up.
- * * Jeremy didn't lose any time in securing a replacement for the Beast. The day after it died, he sold it to a salvage dealer for less than $50. That afternoon Troy, Gabe (who was eager to please Troy, I suspected), and Jeremy visited the Enterprise lot. They found a silver two-year-old Honda with reasonable mileage in a price range that worked. The next afternoon, Jeremy and I went out and sealed a deal. I moved money from savings to cover the purchase and set up the insurance. I arranged for Jeremy to have a safe deposit box at my bank so that the first item left there was the title bearing his name. By the next day, Jeremy had wheels again. I think he gave a little bit of his soul to that car, for every free daylight moment when he was home, he was outside babying that car, cleaning the inside and the outside. I loved it! Kenny astutely realized the bond between Jeremy and the Honda, frequently showing up to help. And Jeremy, that sweet man, insisted that Kenny's car receive the same treatment that Jeremy's had received. They spent a lot of days tending to autos, but I suspect they realized the deepened bond it formed between them too.
- * * That evening reverie over the Breughel winter scene had borne fruit. I couldn't easily contain my excitement about Jeremy's being home with me for Thanksgiving. I had carefully sounded him out about spending the day with his parents. I couldn't obstruct that if he wanted to try it. He was adamant - his jaw set: he hadn't talked to his parents at all, nor they to him. He wasn't going near them. So Sunday night, when Jeremy arrived home, we'd made plans for Thanksgiving. We'd prepare our own holiday dinner, listen to music, take a walk, go to a movie in the afternoon. It would be a quiet holiday, but together! I would escape the angst of another holiday spent alone. Jeremy wanted to ask Kenny over when he could free himself from his family's holiday observance. I agreed. I'd purchased a small turkey and bought the supplies for our feast. I was feeling like a family man!
A couple of evenings later, I was in the sunroom, lying on the sofa, listening to Mozart's opera "Don Giovanni." I heard the front door opening. When I glanced in that direction, I saw Kenny walk through the door followed by Jeremy. Jeremy pushed Kenny toward the sunroom, saying, "I'll get us Cokes." This situation was unusual. When they were out for an evening, they never returned here this early. Sensing that something was in the air, I sat up.
Kenny came over to give me a kiss. Jeremy came back with the Cokes. "Evan, may we talk to you?" Jeremy asked.
"Shoot."
"Your making me face questions about college led Kenny and me to discuss our plans for college. That led us to questions about our future . . . Evan, we want to come out to Kenny's parents."
I studied both of them. "Okay. Is there a particular reason you're telling me this?"
"We want you to know. We also wondered if you have any suggestions?"
"When are you planning to tell Kenny's parents?"
"Tomorrow."
"Have a backup plan."
"Huh?"
"What are you going to do in the following circumstances? One, Kenny's parents do what your parents did, Jeremy - kick him out. Two, Kenny's parents threaten to cut him off if he continues to see you. Three, Kenny's parents decide to send him to boarding school for his senior year to keep you two apart."
Kenny and Jeremy studied each other. I realized that their decision to come out to Kenny's parents had just been made prior to arriving home. They had addressed only the problem of where they might be matriculating; they hadn't yet addressed these other possibilities. "Kenny, how do you expect your parents to react?"
"I don't know. We've been pretty close. I know that doesn't guarantee that they'll accept a gay son. I've heard stories about other parents suddenly turning on a son for revealing that he's gay."
"Why have you two decided to come out to Kenny's parents now?"
Jeremy began, "Maybe I pushed the issue. Kenny's parents have chosen a college that they'd like him to attend, but it isn't State U., where I want to go and where all of our friends are going. If they know how we feel, they may allow him to go where he and I can be together. However, your suggestion makes me realize that it's Kenny who may bear the brunt of coming out, so he should decide. I just thought that since our friends already knew and accepted us, it was a natural next step. We wouldn't have to explain to Kenny's parents why we're constantly together, why we're not dating girls, that kind of thing. Maybe we could even spend nights as full lovers at each other's home."
Kenny added, "I guess I wanted them to hear it from me. We would all be saved from some sensational version that someone might whisper to them. [Kenny had a point. I immediately thought of Melanie Simpson's breathless, wide-eyed disclosure about Tim and Alan.] They also wouldn't have to wonder why acquaintances might be avoiding them."
"Those are laudable reasons. To be wise, you should consider what
would happen if you waited a year - just before you two
graduate - to come out."
Again, they studied each other. Kenny spoke more quietly: "I guess we could go on as we have. But now that we've decided to come out, I know what it feels like to be free of worry about discovery. I like it. I like not having to rein in my feelings for Jeremy, not having to look over my shoulder, not having to monitor our behavior constantly."
"Ditto," responded Jeremy.
"I know the answer to this before I ask, but it needs to be addressed. You haven't reached this decision to demonstrate anything to Robert, have you Kenny?"
"No. Robert and I are friends now. I wish the best for him. But our decision has nothing to do with him."
"Good. You don't have to do anything about it today or tomorrow. Sleep on it. Discuss it. Here's a good idea: try it out on Troy and Susan - a practice run. Then see how you feel."
They shook their heads in agreement.
"One thing: don't tell your parents on Thanksgiving Day. Do it before or after. You don't want an annual holiday to be marked for all of you by a catastrophic confrontation. If all parties don't respond positively, there won't be a national holiday that perpetually reminds them of those unpleasant circumstances. That applies to you two as well. Future Thanksgivings can still be positive for all of you."
They looked at each other. "Listen, I'm going to the study to do some work. You guys stay here if you wish and make your plans." That's what I did.
I watched Jeremy more closely in the following days to see if all was well. I always checked Kenny out, speaking to him right before or after class.
Jeremy mentioned on a Friday that he and Kenny and Susan and Troy were going out to dinner the following evening. I just smiled and shook my head in acknowledgement. "If you feel comfortable with it, let me know how it goes."
Jeremy walked up to me and threw his long arms about me, pulled me tight against him, and slowly rocked us back and forth. My ear was flat against his chest, allowing me to hear his heart's steady beat. I could smell his pleasant scent. He whispered, "I love you, Evan." He leaned down, giving me a warmer than usual kiss.
"That didn't feel like a dutiful, filial kiss."
"What can I say? It's a stud's kiss."
- * * On Saturday evening when Jeremy and Kenny were out with Troy and Susan, I was lounging in the sunroom listening to Peter Hurford's CD "Romantic Organ Works" when I heard a knock on the front door. I crutched there, opening the door. Cody stood on the porch, his hands jammed down in his jean pockets, the universal signal among men of stress, trouble, shyness, or discomfort. "Cody, what a pleasant surprise. It IS going to be a pleasant surprise, isn't it?"
I scared up a faint grin on his face. "You'll think it is."
"Come in." I stood aside for him to enter. As I moved forward and closed the door, he swept me up in his arms, startling an exclamation of surprise from me. My crutches clattered to the floor. He ignored them, turning down the hall to my bedroom. Wow! I loved this scenario, but I wanted to know why it was happening.
Cody carried me into the bedroom and laid me on the bed. He pulled off his leather jacket and his boots and socks. Next off were his jeans and briefs. I loved seeing his thick, five-inch cock again, which was hard as steel. He pulled his tee shirt over his head, ruffling his pageboy cut. Damn, he was good-looking.
Next he set about undressing me. He wasn't gentle. He yanked my sweat pants down, pulled off my heavy wool socks, pulled down my briefs, lifting them to his nose to sniff heavily. He grabbed my sweatshirt, pulling it over my head. Then he sat down beside me, just staring at me. For once, the "Cody silence" wasn't unnerving. Perhaps this meant we were accommodating to each other. I just lay there, waiting for him to tell me what was going on.
He threw himself on me. He clutched me to him tightly. I could feel his hard cock pushing into mine. His breath was coming fitfully. "Evan . . . Evan . . . I want . . . I want you to fuck me! I want it, want it badly, but I don't want to want it. Damn, I sound stupid."
My face registered surprise. "I can't believe it," popped out of my mouth.
Cody's response tumbled out rapidly. "When I fucked you and had you under my control, I saw and felt you opening up to me, Evan. You trusted me entirely, allowing yourself to become vulnerable to me. Finally, I understood that you could have done that only if you cared for me and wanted me to care for you. I felt and heard how much pleasure you were experiencing. I was bringing you that pleasure. I was special because of the feelings I was creating in you. Without your reaction that way, I might as well have been home jerking off. But much more was going on with us . . . . Damn. I'm not getting it out right. I thought I wanted mansex with you and Troy. But I realize now that I was seeking more.
"Later at home, when I was thinking back over our fucking you, I felt myself changing places with you, felt myself becoming vulnerable to you, felt how satisfied and peaceful you were. I wondered what it really would feel like. The more I thought about it, the more I wanted it. You and Troy taught me that it's not mansex, it's manlove that I want. I wouldn't let just any man make love to me, but I would let you, Evan - and Troy. I wouldn't be less if you fucked me; I'd be more, just as you were when Troy and I fucked you.
"Even when we crawled up and Troy held both of us, you were the father figure. You loved us. I felt wrapped up in that love. Troy and I talked about it later. We both felt the same way. Even though we were the tops, you were the dominant one. But I'm afraid."
"You have reason to be afraid of me?" I asked incredulously.
"No. Afraid of me . . . . I may like it too much."
"What would be wrong with liking to bottom?"
Silence.
"What I'm hearing you say is that it's less a matter of your trusting me than of trusting yourself. Yet I find you one of the strongest, most self-possessed people I know. You have no reason to fear yourself in this matter.
"It isn't an issue of whether you submit to me or not," I continued. "My feelings for you won't change one way or another if you do or don't. But I would surely like to know that you could work through this issue so that you trusted yourself more and felt comfortable about your inner strength. It's an issue for you because you are still new to this area of your sexual orientation. Just don't be afraid of yourself."
We gazed into each other's eyes, realizing that we had reached a defining moment in our relationship. All of a sudden, I flung myself on him, grabbing his arms and pinning them over his head. Startled, he continued to study me. I leaned down and cleaned out his ears with my tongue. He tried to move his head away. "What are you doing?" he asked a little breathlessly.
I moved the crook of my neck and shoulder up to pin his head in place. He pushed his body up against mine, but I pushed down harder, whispering, "This is your Daddy telling you to lie still and take it like a man." I heard a slight gasp as I continued to savage his ear with my tongue. Then I shot over to his other ear. Then the crook of his neck, nibbling and licking there. "I'm going to move my hands. Your Daddy commands you to keep you hands over your head just as I placed them. Do not move them at all!"
"Uh-h-h-h-h," escaped his mouth. "You're supposed to be Mr. Correct, not force anything on me."
I shot my face up and into his, fixing him with my steely blues. "I'm
your Daddy. Submit!"
"You have to let me out of this if I want."
Again, I was in his face. "Submit," I said sharply. "I am giving you just exactly what you came here for, what you want, what you asked for."
I flipped him over on his stomach, pushing his legs apart with my knees, spreading his ass cheeks apart with my hands. I slid my hand under him, feeling his hard, thick cock, tickling his balls while I began to lick and kiss his asshole. He moaned. Then I rose up, grabbed the lube in the nightstand drawer, and spread some on my finger. I introduced a finger just inside the threshold of his ass, slowly pushing it in while I tickled and licked his balls. Little groans were emanating from him. He kept trying to move aside, to rise up. I'd use my other arm to press down on his back. I kept dominating him, insisting that our making love would be done my way first. I reached for the lube, coating his pucker with it before pushing blobs into his interior and introducing a second finger into him. First he would pull away; then he would push his ass back against my fingers.
Then I leaned up, whispering, "Your Daddy knows what you want Cody, and just how to give it to you." The top in him rebelled, trying to pull away. "No, you need to be HERE like THIS," I exclaimed, thrusting my hard cock into him. He groaned. The more he squirmed, the more I dominated, pushed in and used my body to push down on him. His ass was TIGHT. He was hot and silky inside. "Now, open up to me, Cody; make yourself vulnerable to me as I made myself vulnerable to you. Come on, you're strong enough. Discover the joys of making yourself vulnerable to a man you love. Taste it. Smell it. Feel it. It's manlove, among the best experiences life will ever afford you. Another man values you, is aroused by you, wants you. You've intuited how joyful it can be, how pleasurable it can be. Now drink from it. Let it fill you, sweet, hot, strong, butch Cody!"
I was pushing in as far as I could and then pulling out until the lips of his pucker played with the flange of my dick. I would tease his sphincter with the head of my dick. Ripples of pleasure moved up and down the entire length of my cock and its head, up through my spine and into my head. Lube was running out of his ass, coating my balls, which recorded tickles as they beat against his ass. Cody was gasping for breath.
"This is what you want, Cody, and this is how you want it. You want me to take you, Cody. You want Daddy to teach you how to be a whole man, how to be loved like a man, by a man, how a man truly loves his man. And then you want Big Brother Troy to love you the same way. Accept us, Cody, surrender to us, let us in. You know we shall never harm you. Daddy and Big Brother will protect you, guide you, always love you. Demand all from us within your strong vital heat, Cody, drink us in, never fight our love filling you, feeding you, filling your desire to be fed by us."
Cody was moaning and squirming, now trying to move from under me and off my cock, then back on, pushing hard against my cock, wanting more of it in him. He would turn his head back for a kiss; then he would break away. A war was underway in him - one part wanting to be a butch top, the other to be a bottom. Both wanted a hot fuck.
We were sweating up a storm by now. I had reached my lubed hand under him, clasping his thick cock, jacking him irregularly to keep him off balance. Little cries were escaping from him, echoes of the powerful warring impulses inside him. He couldn't stifle the sounds issuing from him. Just a little more effort from both of us in a different direction would have made our manlove look like gay wrestling. I kept changing the angle of my cock plunging in him. About every third time I hit bottom in him, I rotated my hips, starting with just one rotation but increasing the number every so often. "Now, Cody, demand what you need of me, demand my seed. Bring it forth from my cock, my fine hot lover. Become one with me and your desire to be filled with love."
"Yes, Daddy," he gasped.
"Bring it forth from me, Cody. That's my beautiful, strong cub - drink all of me." At that point I fired deeply into him. Seconds later I felt my jacking hand become wet with his cum, making my hand slide slickly over his dick. A little cry flew out of him.
Eventually, we slowed. As we came down from our orgasmic high, I held Cody tightly. Oddly, I felt his body stiffen. I realized he wanted me off him, so I rolled to the side. He turned onto his back and held his arms loosely across his chest. "Cody silence" reigned.
"What's wrong?" I asked.
Silence. He glanced at me out of the corners of his eyes, definitely not a brash Cody mannerism.
"Come on, Cody. Talk to me."
Silence. So I waited in silence. "I'm mad at myself for wanting it," he spoke softly.
"Clarity, Cody. Wanting what - sex? Sex with me? Sex as a bottom? What?"
"Wanting you to fuck me."
"What is it about wanting to bottom that makes you mad at yourself? You came here tonight knowing what you wanted. At the same time, your behavior points to an unresolved conflict."
"I don't want to be weak like that."
"You think bottoming makes you weak? Oh boy, we're having a Fruit Loop moment here. How does bottoming make one weak? I should warn you before you answer that I would be considered a bottom. But weak I am not. Oh, I have my failings. But I am one of the strongest people you will ever meet."
Silence. I knew the cogs were turning. "If you are so strong, why did you run from Troy and me the other afternoon?"
"Because I was confronted with a situation for which I was not prepared. You and Troy making love, knowing that I would hear you. It hurt, reminded me of a situation and someone I want to forget. It was like you were enjoying each other but rejecting me . . . like you wanted to rub my nose in it. I was afraid. Being afraid doesn't mean one is weak. It CAN mean that one is wise."
"You don't think I was weak for allowing you to fuck me."
"No. I don't think so foolishly."
"You think I'm strong?"
"Quite strong."
"Then why did I want you to fuck me, to be a bottom?"
"Because you were either curious or you needed it. You tell me which it was."
"I was curious, but what do you mean when you say I needed it?"
"Cody, we can't always be 'on' all the time. I read an interview of a comedian once in which he indicated that an occupational hazard for him was that people wanted him to be funny all the time. As a result, he chose people to be his friends who would allow him to be just himself, to kick back, relax, laugh at what other people said - just be a regular guy. Comedians don't want to be comedians every moment of their existence. Do you want to play basketball non-stop?"
"No, I want to fuck sometimes too," he murmured, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
"For our own emotional and mental health, we have to occasionally step out of role just to try something else - a change of pace. When we teachers attend conventions away from home, we often revert to our carefree college days, behaving like post-adolescents but not like the authority figures we have to be back home. You needed to step out of the butch top role just to be able to allow someone to take the rudder for once." I grinned at the image of my rudder plugging Cody's hot ass. "It doesn't mean you're weak; it means you're wise."
"Does it work that way with everyone?"
"Precision, Cub. Does what work that way?"
"Men have to be dominated, forced to feel the depth and love of power?"
"No, not with everyone. But it had to be that way with you. You are strong to the max. More to the point, it isn't easy for you to move to new stances, ideas, feelings. The beauty and power of love come to a Cody only when he surrenders to love, makes himself vulnerable to another man who will lead him into the beauty and power. You wanted a Daddy to lead you to that. You knew I could do it. And you wanted a strong, older, wiser man to lead you into the mysteries. Next, you will want Troy, your big brother, to do the same for you. But you wanted to start with me. You wanted to come a virgin to me that way. You want to go to Troy experienced. From the two of us you will know the strong, potent, satisfying, willful, fulfilling beauty of being a bottom. Experiencing that, you will also be a masterful top."
"You mean you'll respect me tomorrow," he said, with a small grin. I realized he was kidding only a little. It was actually a serious concern for him.
We laughed as I assaulted his ribs with my hands, sending him into wriggling paroxysms of laughter. I had discovered that he was ticklish! "What a smart-ass," I exclaimed. "I love it. You have my respect now, respect earned, seldom given gratis."
"A final reason you wanted it is that you are just learning the depth and power of love. It's invigorating, intoxicating. But I had to overcome you to help you finally own that power and love that you had only sensed."
"How do I get Troy to fuck me the way you did - you know, force me?"
"Just tell him what you need him to give you."
"Won't he think I've gone weird?"
"Cody, he liked, then loved you a long time ago. He's not going to think you're weird. If anything, he'll be excited to know exactly how you want it, to know how to fulfill your expectations. You may be surprised: he may need to make love to you just that forcefully."
A sigh escaped him as he moved into my arms, flattening his body against mine, trembling a little, signaling that he had accepted the truth of what he had just experienced and heard. His being a bottom had just configured with all his other experiences and identities. A new program was operational.
- * * Kenny and Jeremy decided they would come out to Kenny's parents Monday evening. Troy and Susan had served as substitute parents at dinner Saturday night. At that time, Jeremy and Kenny practiced their approach and fallback positions should Kenny's parents pose a difficulty. I'd heard nothing more from Kenny and Jeremy about it. I was a little surprised. I guessed they had a good reason for not coming to me again about it. Still, deep down, I wondered if that meant that they didn't need me anymore.
After waiting the entire evening, I had given up, deciding to retire. At that very moment, the two entered the front door. I studied them to detect in advance the news they brought. They were looking at each other and smiling, which seemed reassuring, but when they looked at me, the smiles disappeared. Now what could that mean? Recently, when people shut down like that, it boded ill for me. While Jeremy went for Cokes, Kenny came in the sunroom again, knelt down, and threw his arms around me in a hug, just hanging on. Oh dear. I couldn't figure out why, but I anticipated something I wouldn't want to hear.
Jeremy entered the room quietly, handing Kenny his Coke. They both sat side-by-side on the sofa. "Okay guys, put me out of suspense. How did it go?"
"I won't say we left them happy about what they heard when we came out to them," Kenny said, "but they didn't blow up either. We didn't have to use any of our fallback positions. My mom came over and kissed me and then Jeremy. My dad was more stand-offish. He told us it would take a little getting used to because he had already figured out where my life was going to go."
Jeremy picked up: "They wanted to know my college plans before they decide with Kenny about where he's going to school. But they think the four of us need to spend some time together talking a little more. Kenny's dad says he needs some help in coming to terms with what we are becoming," Jeremy explained. He looked at Kenny, who put his hand on Jeremy's thigh and squeezed.
"That's why we need to ask a favor of you, Evan."
"Shoot."
"They want Kenny and me to spend Thanksgiving with them, starting Wednesday evening. They want to hear more about our college plans, ideas for housing, stuff like that," Jeremy rushed ahead. "Would it be okay if I spent Thanksgiving and the weekend at Kenny's home?"
"I think we can really help them, Evan, if we agree to their request," Kenny jumped in. "I would invite you too, but my parents will really open up only if it's the four of us. I hate taking Jeremy away from you, but it's important to our future," he added apprehensively.
I was stunned. I had even quit breathing. I never imagined this course of events. It was as though all my interior operations had locked up. "It's no big deal, Evan," that interior voice consoled. "You know you'll go along with it. It's important to their future. And they were courageous in dealing with this issue in their lives. They deserve this reward. Give it to them."
"You don't need my permission about where to spend your holidays, Jeremy. You're a big boy now," I stated as I grabbed my crutches and arose. I dared not linger. I moved off toward my bedroom.
"You don't have to rush off, do you?" Jeremy asked.
I stopped. "I really appreciate your letting me know how it all went. I might not have been able to sleep if you hadn't told me." I turned to face them. "I'm so happy for you. You handled this marvelously, just the way I would expect from the two of you." I turned and moved to my bedroom.
"Evan . . ." Jeremy said. "Evan . . ." I just kept going. I got the door shut to my bedroom before the despair really hit.
(To be continued.)
Thanks always to Scott Howard for editing and manuscript preparation. Thanks as well to the Cub for allowing his dream about us to serve as half the scene with Evan and Cody. He requested that such a dream be shared with others.