DiSCLAiMER : Do not read the story below in whole or part unless it is perfectly legal and proper for you to read descriptions of gay sexual activity.
Once again, here's the disclaimer. This is my first attempt at writing this type of story, so when you e-mail me please be kind. Comments will be greatly appreciated.
This story is protected by copyright laws, please do not copy for distribution or post to other sites without the author's permission.
This story is completely fictional. Any similarities to any persons or events, past or present are purely coincidental. This story may depict sexual situations between young males. Finally as I said before if this type of story offends you, boy are you in the wrong place or what?
I know, the first chapter was kind of short. I just didn't want to bore anyone with too many details until I set the hook. I do plan on doing a little bit of character development from this point on, and like I said, I'm kind of new at this so please be gentle.
Thank you all for all of the positive feedback that I received in reference to the first chapter, the story is getting better all the time.
Email me at jcoutureislife@yahoo.com or visit my personal MySpace and be added to leave comments at myspace.com/kevinluvsjuicycouture
Chapter 2: I Think I Really Like Him
My mother stood over me with her hands in her ears wiggling them back and forth trying to make me laugh. I looked down at myself, and I laughed. It was once thing that I had indeed found myself laughing at. Even the other me laughed. The other me?
I looked down once more and realized that it was me, myself when I was just 2 years old. My soft and clear skin and my blue ocean-like eyes radiated. My skin had a healthy glow that I'd never seen before. My thin fingers were outstretched reaching for my mother. My round belly was sticking out even inside the onesie. My lips were curved slightly and my teeth were poking out between my closed mouth and dimples were like huge craters on my cheeks.
For the first time in years, I looked at my mother. I figured she couldn't see me because when I reached my hands over and touched her face she continued playing with my younger and perfect self. I felt tears welling up in my eyes and I looked at my mother. The only person who could ever love me.
I looked at her. Her golden green eyes glimmered in the morning light and I saw flecks of happiness in them. I though it was impossible, but it was true that in her eyes there were little miniscule spots that represented happiness. Her gentle wrinkles near her mouth and curving newly formed crow's feet near her eyes. He blonde hair fell wildly over her face and the highlights of bleach blonde made he look wonderful. Her small nose was wrinkled in laughter and her expression was so calm and happy.
I thought of how I missed her so much and I felt a tear trickle down my cheek and it triggered a whole string of tears. This was a dream though, I have to wake up, and it's too much for me. Suddenly the scene changed.
We were in a car, the old Mercedes-Benz that we had once owned before we traded it in because it held to many memories. I gasped for air and I could feel the tears trickling down my cheek and I reached up and wiped my face. I started hitting myself, thinking that it would wake me up, but it didn't. I was stuck; I would have to watch this again.
I looked at my mother laughing hard. She looked back at me with a look of pain in her eyes like a person with an extremely large kidney stone that was giving them trouble. I laughed. I was looking into my own eyes and watching them as they squeezed closed as I shrieked with joy.
This was not right. It just wasn't right, this was over already, happened years ago, years, almost ten years ago. What the fuck was this for? I have lived through the fucking scene before even though I didn't know what the hell was actually happening. I suddenly saw a reflection of myself in the side window of the car. I was a translucent, but my features could be made out. My cheeks were covered in wetness and I was crying again.
I looked at my younger self and my stomach was hurting to badly laughing. I didn't know that it would be the last time I saw my mother alive.
"Honey," my father said calmly.
My mother turned to face him and by now, she was shaking violently with her head hitting against the back of the seat.
"Honey," my father screamed, looking over with a shocked expression that I read now that said, damn it's happening already.
I looked at him bewilderedly and angered. He'd told me that they hadn't known that it was going to happen, but from this look he was giving now, he'd know it was going to happen; he just didn't know when it was going to happen. I looked back at my mother, whose back was hitting against the seat as if she was on the worlds largest and fastest motor cycle. He eyes were rolled back into her head and here hair was wildly swinging around on here head.
My father pulled over the car and jumped on her trying to keep he conscious and to keep her from breaking bones by popping up the way she was.
All the time that I was watching the activity in the front seat, I forgot about myself who was sitting in the back seat, idly twiddling my thumbs and breaking into little shouts of laughter, thinking it was all a joke, but it was all but a joke.
My mother began to make a gurgling sound and my father face was consumed with a look that translated to simply, how I am going to tell this to my son, looking at me. I felt his eyes burning into me and he buried pain beneath his bravery and wiped a little droplet of blood from the corner of my mother's mouth, something I'd never seen. Some thing I hadn't seen.
I now sat in the back seat of the car, with my younger self, crying, crying hard and screaming loudly as my younger self sat in amazement of what was going on, not comprehending a second of it."NOOOOO...! NOOOOOO...!" ----
"NOOOOO...!" I screamed aloud unawarely.
"God, Blake, what the hell is this!" my father yelled angrily as he came in my room.
My legs were untidily tangled into my white sheets and a nasty bruise was on the underside of my arm where I must have hit myself on the headboard when I was dreaming. Around where my head had been there were puddles of tears that left a dampened and darkened stain on the covers. My pillows were thrown on the floor and the fitted sheet was halfway off.
My shirt was covered in sweat and my flannel pj's were uncomfortably twisted. I felt disgusting.
"What were you doing?" my father asked giving a look even though he was half sleeping.
"I had a bad dream," I said over the sleep and grogginess in my voice.
"It was one hell of a dream wasn't it!" he said calmly, but I sensed the tension in his voice. Why should he be fucking mad? He's the one that lied to me. He loses 5 minutes of sleep and he catches and attitude, oh no. =] Not on my watch.
He began to turn and leave of the room and said, "Go back to bed... keep it down in here."
"Wait..." I said with the grogginess in my voice coming back to me. My voice came out in a croak.
"What?" My father asked irritated.
"Did... did you lie to me? I mean... about mom, and what... really happened to her." I asked scared.
"Why would you want to talk about it?" He asked, no wide awake.
"Nothing..." I asked, "I was wondering..."
"Go to sleep." ----
I woke up early in the morning at around 4:30 and began to shower.
I looked at myself good in the mirror. Hi. I'm Blake, and I love you Peter.
My face broke into a bewildered stare. Once again I didn't know what to do; it just seemed to have slipped in my mind. I knew I wasn't gay, I swear. I was one of the most masculine guys I knew. I wasn't about to suck someone off or go down the street kissing and holding hands with some dudes. Eww, or someone putting their fucking cock in my ass. What the hell do I look like?
I looked into the mirror and admired my eyes. The same strong blue eyes from the mirror. The eyes of someone who was hard and hurting, and just the way I'd seen the happiness in my mother's eyes back in the dream, I felt the same way. I saw the sadness in my eyes, the necessity of a strong person to hold me, something my mother was good at. Not so much my father, he'd been on the more, we men are out on our own, sort of mentality.
I looked at my hair, my mothers same blond streaked my midlength and tidy sandy hair and it fell morosely over one side of my face. It sat like a person sits when they are lonely and there is nothing to do.
My mouth was slightly curved and my bottom lip was plump and juicy -- might I add a pleasurable sight. I bit my lip and tried to put on the most seductive look that I could muster, which really wasn't that seductive considering that fact that I was so immature looking. To me, I reminded myself of a kid that grew up to fast. My skin was so smooth that most of the time I looked like I was wearing makeup, and I liked my skin for the most part. It was creamy and tan, not like a pale mayonnaise, but somewhat like a lighter version of butterscotch or caramel. By far, it was nowhere near the color of Peter.
I looked adorable and that was the problem. Everyone said that I looked adorable', but I didn't want to look adorable, I wanted to be sexy. The kind of sexy where girls are like OMG he's fucking hot' or like the people on the swim team are like `God damn, I'd hit that in a minute.' I'd always been the center of attention though with my looks.
Most of the time the girls would say, you are such a cutie while pinching my cheeks, or the older and more sophisticated ones are like, you are going to be a hottie someday. When was that day going to come? Probably never.
This point was the downest I'd felt in a while. I always thought of myself as being good looking, but compared to hot guys and the muscularly toned guys, I was just like a baby. A man with baby looks, not the way I wanted to have.
I looked down at my body, which was for the most part toned and in an incredible shape for my 5' 6" height. I had the beginnings of large pecks and if I stood to the side, my profile gave you at least an inch or hard chest. My abs protruded, but I was still so skinny that you could see the ending of my ribcage through my skin.
I smiled gently.
I remembered my mother and a tear rolled down my cheek. I wiped it away quickly before I could breakout into a whole sobbing fit and hopped into the shower.
The steamy shower spewed hot cloudy stream into my face as I opened the door to get in. I let the water run over me for a few minutes and began to wash myself. I scrubbed and scrubbed and scrubbed and I scrubbed so hard I rubbed myself raw on the back of my shoulder-blade. Unconsciously I was hoping to scrub away all that normal little boyishness out of myself. I wanted to be a man, a real man with real muscles. So I can win Peter over everyone, even the best looking girl in the school, I thought, quickly catching myself. I found myself dawdling over the idea of Peter and I being together and my cock grew hard.
"Geez, I'm not a fuckin' homo!" I whispered hoarsely to myself. "I hope not," I added. ----
I found myself in school two weeks later wearing a new pair of low-rise Abercrombie Jeans and a semi-tight Abercrombie and Fitch Henley. I didn't what had come over me, but I begged my father to let me borrow some money to go to the mall and get some new clothes even though I'd gone shopping for school not even a month ago. I made up some bullshit excuse that I didn't like the clothes, but I wanted to keep them just in case I need to `wear something' someday.
I spent almost $600 in Hollister and Abercrombie and Fitch and my father was thoroughly pissed but I apologized so many times, he had no choice but to take it. I was walking into the school, still not over my trip so many days ago, but I felt more confident.
I saw Peter, Adam, Kristian and Trevor. Trevor was the first to notice me and he told everyone I was coming. Kristian and Adam turned quickly and Peter lagged about five seconds. My eyes began to water somewhat, then I thought, what the fuck, I'm going to the mall, buying clothes just to impress some dude I've only known for about four weeks weeks. Ha-ha, sounds like a crazy to me!
"Hey, Blake," called Adam smiling his million dollar smile at me. But it wasn't the smile I wanted to see.
"Hey," I forced a call back, smiling as wide as my fake muscles would let me.
"Hey, my man, sup?" said Kristian when I got close enough to give him a high five.
"Nothing, just fine," I said genuinely happy this time because Peter was moving closer.
"Hey, boobs," laughed Peter making me weak in the knees.
"Boobs...? Yeah your mothers," I commented back punching him in the arm.
"You wanna go get some biscotti today," He said. I noted a little bit of sarcasm in his voice regarding the little situation that had occurred a month ago on the first day of school.
"Yeah sure," I replied.
"You guys wanna join?" Peter asked the other guys and I immediately got irritated.
"Yeah," Kristian replied.
"Danishes too? Chyeah!" Adam responded giving me a look I found strange.
"Yes sir..." said Trevor and when he noticed everyone was looking at him for his strange reply, he added, "well you guys took all the good responses." ----
We were in the café just eating biscotti's when half a biscotti came flying at me
"Soccer tryouts are coming up! You guys think you're ready?" asked Trevor over his biscotti which had just been thoroughly spat at me and missing by an inch.
"You are real funny; we've all made the team since grade school. Like that's really a question to any of us!" bragged Kristian smiling and laughing at the same time, taking the time to break off his Danish and throw it at Trevor.
"What sports do you play?" asked Adam to me giving me that look again. It gave me chills.
"Uh, well, I like soccer, I was going to out for the team, and I've played soccer ever since I was like five, so I think that I'm pretty good. I don't know yet though." I said nervously as I had been put on the spot.
"Yeah, you should play, we have to see the skills you have to see if you are any good," Trevor laughed punching me lightly on my shoulder. "I bet you can play, though. Anyone wanna bet me on that?"
"I do," I said with one finger up in the air like a little nun who wants to be excused.
The table erupted into laughter and we got up to go to class.
"Peace dudes," Trevor said grabbing Kristian, "You don't wanna be later for that bitch, Ms. Gray's class. She's an evil bastard I swear..." His voice trailed off. Adam skipped off as well, smiling at me and saying, "Peace nukka!"
I gathered my stuff and got up, almost the last one at the table. Peter was still there though and I immediately got nervous and my heart started to beat extremely fast.
"Hey, Blake, uhm...Nice Henley, I like it. It looks great on you, I mean I goes with your... It's nice, just put it that way." Peter said stuttering somewhat.
"Yeah, thanks, your shirt is nice too," I replied smiling.
"Thanks, well, tryouts are up next week, I guess I'll see you there?" Peter asked.
"Yeah, I'm trying out, unfortunately."
"Don't talk like that. Here call me if you have any trouble. Ok?" He then took my hand and for a moment held it in his. He made me feel beautiful and wanted and I felt a connection between us. I felt as if we had joined together and that three seconds felt like a whole eternity.
"5-5-4-3-4-1-1, its my cell phone, call me whenever you want to." He said writing on my hand and putting his name next to it. "Ha-ha," he added about ten seconds later, laughing, "I guess you're not jumpy today?"
I looked down and saw that our hands were still together , I let go quickly but gently and my cheeks went from light tan to almost a crimson red. The first time I've ever -- ever -- blushed. I swear.
FEEDBACK IS GREAT, EMAIL ME AT jcoutureislife@gmail.com (I will respond)
VISIT MY MYSPACE AT MYSPACE.COM/KEVINLUVSJUICYCOUTURE.
XOXOXOX TILL NEXT TIME