CHECKING OUT By Ardveche ardveche@mac.com
Standard disclaimers apply; you know what this is, because you know what kind of stories appear here. So, if you don't like gay oriented fiction, that's your right, but I suggest you not read on. This story is a work of fiction, and is entirely the copyrighted property (c) ardveche@mac.com 2006 of its author. This story may not be distributed or copied without the express permission of the author.
All day I thought about Mark, about the fantastic sensations his touch had produced. I felt hopelessly confused, part of me desperately wanted to see him again and repeat the events of the previous night, and part of me didn't. In truth, the larger part. What I had allowed him to do to me was totally wrong, it was a perversion. To have another man touch me in the most intimate way, to have him swallow my seed - and to have offered no resistance at all. I began to understand the solace Catholics find in confession - I longed to tell someone what I had done, to receive the condemnation I so rightly deserved. But there was no one, and even if there had been I couldn't have gone through with it.
Intellectually, I knew what had happened was wrong, but try explaining the concept of sin to the libido of a teenage boy. I spent the whole day with a hard-on and images of him in my mind, barely suppressing shudders when I remembered the feeling of his hands and lips on my bare skin. My stomach churning, I could concentrate on nothing else. At lunch, Caroline noticed my distracted state and I was forced to compound my sin by lying and telling her I felt a little unwell. It did mean I had a convenient excuse for weaseling out of any after school activities and walking back home alone. It's a long walk, and a damn hot one, but I desperately needed to be on my own, to think. I slid on Mark's sunglasses and headed for home.
As I trudged along the road I considered my options, jerking my head up every time I heard an engine, sure it was him returning for me. It never was. So what were my options? Very few. I could try going to Georgia to find him. Impossible. Not to mention fucking stupid and utterly out of the question. I could try to find someone here who would do what he had done for me. Also out of the question, he had taken advantage of me, I was no faggot. Plus, in a town the size of mine everyone would know what I was doing almost before I started. Which left option three. Pretend it hadn't happened, forget about it, put it out of my mind and get on with my life. My normal, conventional, untroubled, heterosexual life. Easier said than done.
I fed my parents the same line about feeling a bit queasy and sneaked off to my room at the earliest opportunity. I felt thoroughly miserable, and no closer to internal resolution. Not for the first time, I found myself wishing that Caroline was less protective of her virtue, I felt sure that if I could screw her (or any woman really, her mother maybe?) then I would be able to somehow purge, cleanse myself of the sin. As though sex with a girl would be like baptismal water, washing my clean of my sin and allowing a fresh start - never mind that sex outside wedlock was in itself a sin. It was with that thought playing in my head, and one hand lazily stroking my stiff cock that I drifted off to sleep.
In my dreams, instead of the firm young thighs, gently curving breasts and moist lips of my girlfriend there was instead a man in black leather, astride his Triumph like a medieval knight on his charger. He had come back to rescue me, skidding to a halt in a cloud of dust outside the motel and yelling my name loud enough to wake the dead. I rushed out to greet him and found myself being swept up in his strong arms and spun round, his broad smile and dazzling blue eyes the focus of my entire universe. He kissed me hard in front of the open-mouthed stares of my parents and without a backward glance we mounted his bike and roared off down the road. Then things got weird, in the dream we powered towards town and whizzed along the streets past the incredulous and slack faces of my friends and neighbors, coming to a stop at my church. Mark dismounted the bike and hefting a sawn-off shotgun I hadn't noticed until then, bounded up the steps, kicking the large double doors open with one booted foot. Somehow without moving I was inside the church, seated in the first row as my lover stalked up the aisle and blasted Reverend Taylor with both barrels, spraying his blood across the altar and the white wall behind. As the preacher slumped bonelessly to the floor he mustered enough strength to point at me and say in his best pulpit voice: "abomination".
I awoke with a start and a stifled cry. I was soaked with seat, breathing raggedly and my heart was pounding, yet, improbably, I was still rock hard. Ignoring my cock, as I was determined to do until I could be sure I could close my eyes and not feel HIS hand on me, I opened my window and took a few deep breaths of cool night air. Then I went to the bathroom to get a drink of water and to splash some more on my face and run it through my hair in great double handfuls until I was soaked. I stood in front of the mirror, staring at myself fixedly until my breathing returned to normal, and fought the urge to cry. Looking back at me, bedraggled and paler than usual, was a handsome young man with green eyes, his normally light brown hair plastered across his scalp. I was dating one of the most popular girls in school, I could have had practically any other I wanted. I didn't want any of them, I wanted my muscular biker. A man. What had I become?
I went back to my room and flopped back on my bed, staring at the bluish shadows cast on the ceiling by the motel's sign. I gave into the earlier urge and allowed the tears to flow silently down my cheeks. What was I going to do? I couldn't be gay, I just couldn't! How could I live like that, how could I stand the stares and the name calling, but more importantly how I could I stand my own self loathing? I got up and walked over to my computer, flicking it on and drumming my fingers as I waited for it to boot. I launched my browser and entered the address of a website some friends and I had found. We'd used one of their parent's Visa card to register and all taken a note of the password. I navigated my way to the pictures of teenage girls and reached through the slit in the front of my shorts.
Moving the mouse with one hand, and fondling myself with the other, I scrolled through the thumbnails until I found the picture I was looking for. It was a girl of about eighteen or nineteen, wearing nothing but a pair of high-heel shoes, one finger pressed to her lips, looking demurely straight into the camera. She was beautiful, in every way, not slutty like so many of the pictures, she kinda reminded me of Caroline - same long blond hair but the idea of her ever posing like that caused me to almost laugh aloud. To my great delight, my cock was responding, rising rapidly as I imagined running my hands over her naked body, sucking on her large nipples and sliding into the warm, welcoming place between her legs. Never having actually had sex, though, my imagination was less helpful than it might have been, so I concentrated on imaging what her skin would feel like, how her long hair would sweep across me as she licked her way down my chest to my penis.
My hand was slapping up and down rapidly, the other inside my T-shirt playing with my nipple, and I knew I was nearly there. I wrapped one hand round my balls and pounded harder and faster with the other, as my imaginary woman took me deep into her throat. An involuntary groan escaped my lips as I pictured her head bobbing between my legs, looking down the length of my chest at her, my hands buried in her hair, a look of deep contentment on her face. I threw my head back and closed my eyes as I reached the point of no return and shot load after load onto the carpet. I sank to my knees, my hand still moving and my eyes still closed a small smile on my face. In my mind, my hands knotted in the mop of blond hair, wet with sweat, and pulled him closer for a long, deep kiss. Gorgeous pale blue eyes looking deep into mine and a gentle smile playing on his lips. Him? His? My eyes flew open.
It took me a while to stop shaking, when I did I cleaned up my mess with a pair of boxers and buried them at the bottom of the laundry basket before throwing myself back into bed and a fitful sleep troubled by erotic dreams and nightmares which kept blending and merging into one another. I awoke the following morning in a pool of light, my sheets tangled around my body which was slick with sweat. There was a telltale stickiness in my shorts which I knew meant that at some fairly recent point, one of those dreams had pushed me too far and I had cum again. And I knew whose face I had been dreaming about when it had happened.
I stood in the shower, my forehead against the tiles, warm water cascading off me until my mother called through the door to see if I was okay. Once dressed, a silent breakfast followed and then I went to sit on the counter in the office, to be alone and wait for Paul to come pick me up for the drive to school. Not much was said as we drove, but eventually he broke the silence.
"So you were being weird yesterday."
I snorted a response.
"What's up? Problems with Caroline?"
"No."
"What then?"
"Nothing." I wanted him to stop asking me questions, because there was no answer I could reasonably give him.
"Yeah, right. C'mon, talk to me buddy, what's up?"
"I told you, nothing, just drop it will you?"
"Fine." The rest of the journey, nothing was said. School was a total drag, people kept asking me what was wrong with me and I kept telling them nothing. I was finding it hard to concentrate, but I focused all my attention on my teachers, it was the only way I could stop my mind going off on another track. The rest of the week was the same, I put all my energy into school and sport, told my friends I had to work at the motel and told my parents I had to study. That way I could avoid seeing people and talking to them. I had a lot to sort out in my head, but I couldn't face it, I didn't want to have to face it. I suppose on some level I hoped that if I ignored what had happened I could make it go away.
By the time Friday came around I was getting pretty good at not thinking. I hadn't touched my computer, or myself, since Monday and I was working off all my excess energies running and working out. Cold showers helped too. That night I had agreed to go to Mitch's party with Caroline and despite my loathing for Mitch I was almost looking forward to it. I spent a long time getting ready, and I was pleased with the final result. I stood in the bathroom admiring my reflection, dressed in a more casual version of my church clothes I looked stunning. I borrowed my father's car to drive to Caroline's, and promised faithfully I would be home by midnight.
The door was opened by Mayor Bob himself, doing his hale and hearty small town politician routine. He pumped my hand up and down vigorously and called me 'champ', threw an arm round my shoulders and steered me into their living room. I always liked going to the Anderson house, it was so different to my own, but their wholesome family image had never seemed less real then. I couldn't help but think that Mayor Bob would have been a lot less friendly if he'd known about what happened at the weekend - a lot less welcoming. And he wouldn't be the only one.
"Josh, darling, you look lovely." Mrs. Anderson cooed. "Very handsome."
"Thanks, Mrs. A." I replied, smiling despite myself.
"If I was ten years younger..."
"Hush now, Pauline, you're embarrassing the boy. Caroline should be down in a minute, champ, why don't you have a seat and tell me about tomorrow's game. Are you going to whip their asses?"
"Yes, sir, I think so. They haven't been playing up to form, and we've been putting in a lot of practice time."
"That's the spirit, champ. Ah, here she is now." Caroline swept into the room, she looked really good, had obviously gone to a lot of trouble getting ready for the date. Her hair had been styled and she was wearing a figure-hugging, strapless blue dress that came down to knee height, it really went well with her eyes.
"Hi, Josh."
"Well, don't you look lovely!" Her father said getting to his feet and walking towards his daughter with his arms held out.
"Oh, dad!" She giggled as she hugged him, obviously delighted with his compliments.
"No he's right, you look fantastic." I added my agreement.
"Josh!" She hit me on the arm, and blushed. "We should get going."
"You two have fun! And take good care of my daughter, champ!" Her father called from the steps as we got into my parents car. Mitch didn't live too far away from the Anderson's but we drove over there anyway, and joined the ranks of cars parked outside. The party was exactly what I expected it to be, a house full of all the cool and popular people from school, all the jocks and their girlfriends. There were some good people there, a few of my friends, but mostly rich assholes.
"Caroline, Josh, glad you guys could make it." Mitch greeted us with a big, phony grin, he had already put away plenty of beer and was slurring slightly. I guess he was well on the road to being the first casualty of his own party. "Go on in, get yourself a drink." Normally, I don't bother, but I felt a sudden need for a beer and took him at his word, saying 'hi' to people as we made our way to the kitchen, holding Caroline's hand all the way. A couple beers later, I was talking to a bunch of the guys and Caroline had wandered off to find her friend Sarah when things started to go wrong. An argument started about the relative merits of our school's baseball and football teams.
"Bullshit, man!" Paul was saying. "Most of you guys throw like girls!"
"The fuck we do! We're gonna be district champions."
"In your dreams." I muttered, taking another pull on my beer.
"Yeah? What about you football pussies?"
"What about us?"
"When's the last time you faggots won anything?" That comment sliced through my slight buzz, and I focused on one word in it. The wrong word, exactly the wrong word for anyone to be saying around me at that time.
"What did you call me?" I asked the guy who said it, a skinny redheaded kid called Martin who had transferred from out of state a few months back.
"I didn't call you anything, man, settle down." He held his hands up, one awkwardly as he had a cup of beer in it.
"Yes you did. You called me a faggot."
"No I didn't!" He looked round the other guys for support.
"Nobody calls me a fucking faggot!" I shoved him in the middle of his chest, causing him to take a step backwards and spill his drink down his shirt.
"Jeez, Josh! What's wrong with you, man?" He demanded as he swabbed at his shirt.
"What the fuck's that supposed to mean?" People had begun to take an interest in what was happening as I raised my voice to the kid, but no one was making any effort to break it up. Probably figured it was funny, that I was playing with the kid, winding him up.
"Mean? It doesn't mean anything. Just that you're acting like an ass..." He never got to finish the word, I slammed my fist into his freckled nose, there was a satisfying crunch and blood poured out down the front of a once white shirt.
"Fuck!" Martin brought his hands up to his face and stared at the blood in disbelief.
"Josh!" Several people said my name and Paul was pulling at my arm, getting me out of there while some others hustled Martin away towards the kitchen sink. "What the fuck's with you?" My best friend demanded of me as we made it through the crowd and out into the cool air, I shoved him away with a curse.
"Bastard called me a faggot."
"No he didn't! Jesus." He shook his head.
"He's the queer, not me."
"Josh?" Caroline joined us on the porch. "Josh? They said you were fighting."
"He wasn't fighting, just thumped some poor kid."
"What? Is that true?"
"Paul, fuck off." I said distinctly, my knuckles were white from gripping the railing, and every muscle in my back and arms was tensed. I didn't turn round to face him, but heard him turn to go.
"Fine. Fuck you, Josh. You hear me? Fuck you." The door slammed and I was alone with Caroline. I had just blown off my best friend and I didn't care.
"What's going on?" She asked softly, putting her hand on my shoulder.
"Nothing." I said, trying to relax. "Let's get out of here."
"You want to leave?"
"I need to clear my head." I loped down the steps and headed for the car, Caroline trotting awkwardly in her tight dress to keep up with my determined strides. I knew I probably shouldn't drive, but figured I was okay as long as we didn't get stopped.
"Slow down!" She called, but I was at the car already. I yanked open the passenger door and walked round to get in the other side. "Where are we going?"
"I don't know." I started the engine.
"Josh, we can't just drive around all night."
"Why not?"
"Because." That was a good answer! I decided to ignore it as there was nothing I could say at that moment that wouldn't have come out as scathing. We drove in silence for a while, and I eventually drew to a halt in the park by the river, a favorite make-out spot. "What are we here?" Caroline asked.
"I thought maybe we could talk?"
"About what?" She sounded very suspicious. Maybe it was the beer, maybe it was the events of the weekend, but I had decided that tonight was the night. We were going all the way, I was going to prove that I wasn't gay. "Why you've been so strange lately?"
"Yeah." I reached for her, running my hand across her cheek. I leant forward to kiss her, she hesitated at first but soon responded, running one hand back through my hair we kissed for a long time. It felt good, but it lacked the urgency, the passion, of the kisses Mark had given me. Why was I comparing her to him? Why was I even in a position to do that?
"So talk." She said, pulling away.
"Can't we just fool around for a bit?" I asked, a note of petulance in my voice.
"Boys!" Was all she said, but she kissed me again with a small grin on her face. This time it was better, I kept my mind on the task at hand and adjusted my position slightly to relieve the pressure on my rapidly swelling organ. I ran one hand down to her bare shoulder and stroked her arm, she didn't protest, so I risked a hand on the swell of her breast, tracing the curve. She tensed in my arms and pushed me gently but firmly away.
"Slow down." She said, adjusting the dress. I made no response, leaning in to kiss her again. This time my hand went straight to her breast, palm downwards I felt her up. She pushed against me again, but this time I didn't back off. I pulled her closer to me and increased the pressure of my kiss, one hand slid up her leg and nudged the hem of her dress steadily upwards. Both her hands were flat on my chest now, and her entire body was tensed. I didn't care, the urgency of the throbbing in my pants had taken over. I wanted her, and I wanted her now. Suddenly there was a brilliant pain, as she bit down on my tongue. I jerked away, the coppery taste of my own blood flooding my mouth.
"Fuck." I managed, covering my mouth with my hand. She slapped me hard across my left cheek and was about to hit me again, but I grabbed both her arms. She struggled violently, tears running down her face. "You bit me, you bitch!"
"Let me go! You bastard, let me go!" I had never heard her swear.
"Stop it!" I ordered her and gave her a rough shake, I heard her teeth click together. She slowed her struggling and I relaxed my grip on her wrists a little, her pale skin was already beginning to bruise.
"Let me go, Josh. Please."
"What is wrong with you? Other girls let their boyfriends touch them. Other girls aren't frigid like you." I shook her again. I was angry, the fight had started it, but her attitude and the biting had really pissed me off.
"Please..." There was real pleading on her face and in her voice. "I won't tell anyone what happened, just please let me go."
"What? Nothing happened." I was so confused, what was she saying. "I don't want to hurt you, Caroline, I love you, I just wanted..." I trailed off and let go of her arms. She instantly scrambled from the car and started off across the park at a run. "Caroline!" I called after her.
"Leave me alone, Josh! I never want to see you again!"
I slid back into the car and sat numbly staring out for a while. What had I just done? Had I really been about to force myself on her? I started to bang my head of the steering wheel rhythmically. After maybe ten minutes I stopped and with a deep breath started the car. I drove past her house, the light was on in her room, so she had at least made it home alright. I figured if she had told her parents about what happened I'd know soon enough when I got home, the sheriff would be waiting. The parking lot was empty when I got home and I breathed a sigh of relief, she hadn't said anything. I returned the keys and sneaked to my room, I was asleep minutes later.
Caroline wasn't at school the following day and everyone was talking about the way I had turned on Martin the previous night. I was getting some very odd looks everywhere I went, so at lunch I decided I'd had enough and went for a walk instead. Paul had been pointedly ignoring me and even the guys on the team had been distant as though nobody knew when I might snap and turn on them. I sat in the park and threw pebbles at the ducks for most of the afternoon, my mind blank. I tried calling Caroline's house, but her mother answered and said she wasn't well and didn't want to talk to anyone.
The next day was the same, and the next. I stopped trying to talk to people altogether, just moving from class to class and getting through the days. So even if they had been inclined to talk to me, there was no opportunity for them to. I called Caroline's place a few times but every time the phone either just rang and rang or I was politely rebuffed by her mother. That night I booted up my computer and went to the website with the blond girl, I wanted to masturbate, I needed the release, but I couldn't seem to get interested, so I switched it off. My limbs were heavy, I felt cold and empty and I didn't know why. The next morning there was a letter waiting for me when I came down for breakfast. It was from Caroline, saying she had decided to say nothing but that I should stop calling and that she never wanted to see me again or she might change her mind. I felt sick.
My parents had noticed by now that I wasn't myself and tried to get me to talk, asked me if something was wrong at school, or with Caroline. I fobbed them off, and got them off my back by offering to do more nights at the motel, so they could have their evenings to themselves. I got into the habit of sitting at nights in the office, dealing with the very occasional guest and reading. It wasn't much of a life, and I missed my friends, but there seemed nothing I could do about it. Occasionally as the days and weeks rolled by I wondered where I had gone wrong, sometimes thought about calling Paul and apologizing, wondered whether the future would be any different. I prayed often that things could be like they had been, easy and normal, there was never any answer.
I turned eighteen without ceremony and felt no different, just older. Life went on, school during the days, the motel or the gym at nights, church on Sunday, I lost myself in routine, my bitterness growing. I had thought about packing up and leaving on numerous occasions, but never acted on it. I could have, though, I had money in the bank, quite a bit saved up from summer jobs and stuff - for college. I could have gone and stayed with my older sister and her husband in LA, found a job, but what would be the point? What I was running from would have come with me. It was inside me. The bell jangled on the office door snapping me out of that train of thought and I sighed as I slid my bookmark between the pages. I hadn't even heard a car approaching I was so out of it.
"Hey stud, sign says vacancies." I leapt to my feet, standing leaning on the counter with a grin on his face was Mark, the biker who had so totally changed my life almost three months previously.
"Mark?" I could hardly believe he was standing there. For weeks after he left I had continued to think about him as I burned bridge after bridge with my family and friends. I had dreamed about him, woken up sweaty and sticky, but lately even that had stopped and though I never consciously wished for him to return I had long ago given up on any notion that he might. But here he was. "What are you doing here?"
"Passing through."
"Where have you been?" My heart thumped in my chest.
"Atlanta." He looked puzzled and the grin faded from his face. "You okay, man?" Maybe I stood up too fast or something, but the room suddenly started to swim and then everything went black.
"Josh, Josh, honey, are you okay?" I opened my eyes to my mother's concerned face. My head was resting at an angle, resting on what felt like leather. As I got my bearings, I realized I was flat on the floor of the office and that the firm, leather covered surface under my head was Mark's thigh. He was crouching on the floor, supporting my weight as my mother peered intently into my face. One of his hands rested on my shoulder.
"He just folded up." He was saying.
"I'm okay." I said, trying to push myself up with my elbows. "Must've stood up too quickly. I'm fine. Maybe some air."
"Okay, but then take it easy, your father and I can manage for tonight." I nodded and walked outside to take deep breaths of the night air.
"You scared me." Mark said coming out behind me.
"I scared me." I answered without turning to face him.
"Are you okay, Josh? You don't look so good."
"Ha! No, I'm fine."
"Yeah, you sound it. Come on over with me and tell me what's wrong."
"Why should I tell you anything?" I demanded, suddenly realizing how much this man had hurt me by just leaving like that. What I had been denying all this time rushed in on me, I had been moved by him, felt something for him and he had simply walked away. Used me and walked away. I was angry. But now he was back and I was fighting an urge to throw my arms round him and kiss him, confusion reigned.
"Because I want to help." He put his hand on my shoulder and I flinched. "What's happened to you, Josh?" His voice was so soft, so caring, I couldn't resist. I turned round and hugged him tightly. He seemed momentarily surprised, but wrapped his arms around me, letting his backpack fall to the dusty ground. He stroked my hair and held on to me as I clung to him and let the tears of three long months flow down my cheeks silently.
"I missed you so much." I gasped.
"Let's go over to the cabin. Talk." He said, disentangling himself from me. I realized I was making a total fool of myself, we'd met once, I meant nothing to this guy and here I was acting like he was my long lost love back from the wars. He put his hand on my arm, spurring me into motion and we crossed the dusty lot to his cabin. Number eight, the same as last time. Once inside he dumped the helmet and backpack and sat me down on the bed, squatting in front of me and taking both my hands looking up into my eyes as I hung my head. "Josh?"
"I'm sorry."
"What for?"
"Acting like this." I mumbled.
"Don't be stupid." He let go of one hand and pushed my hair up out of my eyes, a look of concern was on his face. He leant forward and kissed my forehead. "Why don't you make some coffee? I'm gonna take a quick shower and then we can talk. All night if you need to." He threw his jacket on the bed and grabbing his pack left me sitting there. After a few minutes I heard the sound of water running and forced myself to my feet. There was a coffee machine on the dresser, one of my many duties was to make sure that everything was there for the tired guest to make himself a cup on arrival. As the last of the coffee dripped through into the jug, Mark returned.
Barefoot, dressed in jeans, and that same checked shirt, he was toweling his hair. The shirt hung open and allowed me an unrestricted view of his upper body. I was hypnotized by him, watching his every move, until he looked up at me and smiled. I don't want to sound more like an idiot than I have to, but that smile was like the break of dawn. It seemed to warm me, made me tingle from head to toe. It brought back the memory of three months previously in a sudden rush, I was hard as rock as with shaking hands I passed a mug of coffee to him. He took it in one hand as he sat down on the bed, pulling one leg up under him and leaving the other dangling over the side.
"Thanks. Sit down." I sat a few feet from him, both my feet on the floor and my hands pressed on the bed on either side of me as though I was about to get up and run. His free hand closed over mine and squeezed gently. "Talk to me."
"Why were you in Atlanta?" I asked, utterly irrelevant, but it was the first thing to come into my mind, his touch had an uncanny ability to disconnect things in my head.
"My father was sick, I went to be with my mom. He died two weeks ago."
"I'm sorry."
"We didn't talk. They could never accept who I was, that's why I left in the first place." He shrugged, his face was unreadable. "I hadn't seen either of them for years."
"I'm still sorry." I said quietly. There was a long pause in which he gazed unblinkingly at me, then a broad smile spread across his face.
"Yes, you really are, aren't you? Thank you." He let go of my hand and leant back into the pillows. "So, now your turn, what's the problem? You looked like you'd seen a ghost earlier."
"I didn't expect to see you again." I blushed, embarrassed by the memory of breaking down on him like that, and of what I had said.
"I didn't know if I'd be back. What happened, Josh, I never planned it. You may not believe this, but I missed you too." I wasn't sure I did believe it, I was stunned by what he was saying though and it must have shown on my face.
"I split up with my girlfriend." I stated, he made no answer, so I kept talking. "Not long after you left, I..." My voice cracked and I wondered why I was saying any of this to him. "I, I tried to force her." I hung my head.
"Why?"
"I don't know." And then as though to contradict myself. "Maybe to prove that what happened didn't mean anything, that it wasn't me. All you."
"Prove to who?" His voice was calm.
"Me. I'm not like you. I can't be."
"Not like me how?"
"You know." I paused and breathed deeply. "Gay."
"I know, I just wanted to hear you say it. Why can't you be?" He finished the coffee and sat up straight, taking my hand in his again. I turned a little to face him.
"It's not natural."
"Neither is shaving." He answered with a grin.
"What?"
"Name me one other animal that shaves." He cocked his head on one side and waited, I suddenly burst out laughing at him. "You ever actually read Leviticus? There's a lot of crazy shit in there. Look, I can't make you believe that it's all right just with words, but maybe I can answer some of your questions. Only you know what's right for you, what feels right, in your heart."
I nodded at him. I had to look away, his sincerity was making me ache for him, and I knew the tears were going to start again. "It felt right." I mumbled.
"It felt pretty good to me too." He replied. "You're a great guy, Josh, and you're way too young to be beating yourself up like this. Over something that couldn't matter less. We all have to make our own morality, do what's best for us and fuck everyone else."
"Easy to say."
"I know. I've been where you are now. I had to deal with it too. It was maybe easier for me, I always knew what I was. Whenever I imagined a future for myself, it involved another guy. Even before I really knew what sex was all about."
"You did?" I asked, amazed by how openly he spoke about his sexuality. He nodded, his pale blue eyes never leaving mine. "I don't know how to deal with this. I don't know what I want. I can't tell my parents. I feel so alone."
"I'm sorry, Josh. I had no idea." He held his arms up and I slid up the bed towards him, let him cradle me against his powerful body and fold his strong arms round me. Once again that feeling of safety washed over me, this man could take care of me, protect me. "It seems to me like you know what you want, you just have to overcome your own inhibitions. Accept it, and accept that it doesn't matter what other people think."
"I know." I moved slightly, straightening my legs out, so I was lying alongside him with my head on his chest. "But it's not easy. It's just not how I was brought up." We were both silent for a long time, he began to stroke my hair again and I started to feel sleepy. "I'm glad you came back." I whispered.
"Me too, stud."
"Why do you keep calling me that?"
"I don't know, just seemed right. I usually don't have a reason for anything I do."
"Usually?"
"You noticed that, huh?" He laughed softly and I felt it in his chest before I heard it and a thrill ran through me at how close I was to this man, and how unafraid I felt. "Okay, so coming back here was on purpose. I wanted to see you again."
"You're just saying that."
"No." He was suddenly serious, he held both my arms and looked down at me. "You're special, Josh, you have to know that. You have to believe that people would be willing to go out of their way for you."
"Would you?" I was amazed by my own boldness.
"Yes. Definitely."
"Why?"
"Why? I don't know, there's something about you. I couldn't get you out of my head." Had he just said that? Now I knew I was dreaming. I laid my head back against him, if this was a dream, I was going to enjoy it. The hand draped across him began to move, almost of its own accord, and make small patterns on his smooth, tanned skin, he gave out a low sigh and settled back some more. "Mmm."
"This feels so good. Can I stay with you tonight?" I breathed, afraid of the answer as much as I wanted it. There was a long pause and I mentally kicked myself for asking him.
"What about your parents?"
"I'll handle them. Besides, I thought I had to 'accept that it doesn't matter what other people think', hmm?"
"Are you sure? I don't want to get you in trouble."
"I'm sure."
"Okay." He still sounded a little skeptical, and it took me a moment to decide whether I had heard him correctly or not, and whether I was doing the right thing. Finally, I reached a decision and pulled myself up the last few inches to be able to kiss him on the lips. "Thank you." He answered softly.
"Can we just stay like this?" I asked after a while.
"Sure we can, stud, whatever you want. But let's get under the covers, okay?"
"Okay." I remained where I was for a few more minutes, then reluctantly lifted my head from his chest and sat upright. He stood and shucked his shirt and, as I struggled to cope mentally with what was happening, unbuttoned his jeans and let them fall to the floor. There he was, standing on the opposite side of the single bed from me in a pair of black boxers, a short silver chain with a lapis teardrop hung round his neck. He lifted the covers of the bed and slid underneath, his eyes on me the whole time. Hesitantly, I began to unbutton my shirt, removing it and my T-shirt. He gave a low whistle as my arms returned to my sides.
"Someone's been working out." He was grinning that beautiful grin again, and again I felt a strange ease come over me. Propped on one elbow, looking straight at me, he looked gorgeous and I knew that I was doing the right thing. All my apprehension and self-consciousness seemed to melt under his gaze as I rose and kicked off my sneakers, sliding my pants down my legs. I was beginning to get hard in my striped boxers as I slid under the covers into the space next to his recumbent body. I rested my head on his bicep and looked up at him, his strong hand slid up my belly to my chest and I shivered. He smiled at me tenderly and leant down to kiss me on the lips.
"Maybe you shouldn't do that." I managed to whisper. He looked confused. "You might wear down my resolve." We grinned at one another.
"Would that be such a bad thing?" He kissed me again, his tongue flicked lightly across my lips and I opened my mouth to him with a small moan. It felt so much better than the last time, it was electric, this time I knew what I wanted and I responded without hesitation, kissing him back with as much passion as he was kissing me.
"No." I was able to murmur as he came up for air. He kissed my chin and my throat, soon his lips were traveling down my chest and he knocked the covers back throwing one leg over me so he was straddling my young body. "Oh, Mark." I whispered as his deft fingers followed in the wake of his tongue, stimulating me to an almost unbearable degree. He hooked his fingers in the waistband of my shorts and looked up at me. I bit my lower lip and nodded once, it was all he needed and I soon found myself completely naked.
"Josh, you are so beautiful." He stroked my thighs and I shuddered as his fingers closed around my shaft. He stroked me slowly and tenderly, his eyes still on mine, he was a dark shape among the shadows, only his eyes and the silver chain catching what little light there was in the room. My breathing became ragged and I knew I wasn't going to last long. I had been denying myself for so many weeks, wet dreams aside, and now that he was touching me I knew I wouldn't be able to hold back. He bowed his head and took me in his mouth and I gasped aloud at this wonderfully familiar sensation washed over me, this was what I wanted, what I had secretly hoped for for so long. A secret so well kept that even I hadn't fully known it until now.
His mouth continued to work on me, I buried my fingers in his hair again and tried to regulate my breathing, to think of anything that would enable me to prolong the sensation. It was not to be, as his tongue swirled and his lips worked up and down, I felt the fire building and knew I was about to cum. He increased his speed in response to my grunts, sweat poured off me as my balls crawled higher and I began to shoot. I clenched my fists tightly and moaned aloud as my back arched, trying to push myself further into him. When I stopped seeing stars, I found him kissing and nuzzling at my neck and shoulder again and I wrapped my arms around his broad back. His fingers closed around my now sensitive cock and began to stroke again, I bit his shoulder to stop myself from moaning aloud and I felt him chuckle. Then he was gone, standing up and crossing the room. I watched him go, wondering what I had done, but he quickly returned dropping a small foil packet on my chest.
"Mark..." I started to say, but he pressed a finger to my lips and shushed me. He stood up straight again, my renewed protest dying in my throat, as he slid down his shorts. For the first time I saw him naked, and my breath caught in my throat. He was stunning. Fully erect, he looked impossibly huge, though in fact he was not a lot bigger than me, and I felt a stirring of panic. I knew what he had in mind, and I knew it was not possible, there was no way I could take something that big inside me. He leaned over me and kissed me again, quieting me for another moment as he tore open the condom packet. And then he began to slide it onto me! I was stunned and amazed, what was he doing?
"Scare you?" He smiled that dazzling smile of his and my heart skipped a beat. He got back onto the bed and knelt astride me again, taking me in one hand he lowered himself down on to me. I felt resistance at the head of my cock and then the most incredible sensation of warmth and tightness I have ever felt. I made a sound somewhere between a moan and a gurgle. "Okay?" He asked me as I felt myself sliding deeper into him. How could he ask such an incredibly dumb question? Of course I was okay! More than okay, I was in heaven. I closed my eyes to stop them popping out of my head and balled my fists in the sheet beneath me. "I guess that's a 'yes'." He said softly as I felt his buttocks come to rest on my groin. I couldn't believe it, I was fully inside him, I was, basically, fucking a guy!
Then the unsurpassable feeling of pleasure was surpassed. He began to raise himself steadily up again before sliding back down and repeating the whole process. My eyes flew open as I felt his lips on mine again and I was confronted with a close up of two pools of the lightest blue. I clung to him as he slowly worked up and down on me, never in my wildest imaginings had I believed that sex could feel so good. I attacked his tongue with mine and felt him laugh again at my reactions.
"Want to take over?" He asked my neck.
"Huh?" I was confused, but before I had time to frame a more articulate response, he was rolling over and I was atop him, still lodged deep inside him. He pulled his feet up, spreading his legs and raising his ass slightly.
"Fuck me, Josh." He said, his voice slightly hoarse. I didn't need to be told twice, I raised my hips off him, pulling out a little and then pushed back in, it felt even better than when he was in control. I repeated the maneuver, a little more confidently this time. And again. And again. It was unreal! I really was fucking him, and I felt like I had discovered something new and wonderful that the world needed to be told about. I pumped faster and deeper, he raised his legs and locked them round my waist stopping me from pulling back too far and inadvertently from pulling out. He had begun to moan with each inward thrust and I realized his eyes were closed and his chest was rising and falling with the strain of breathing. What I was doing to him was giving him pleasure! That was almost as amazing to me as the sensations I was feeling myself, I concentrated on making this last as long as possible, I wanted to make him cum.
His hand raised lazily from the bed and began to stroke his thick cock, but I knocked it away, causing him to look up at me and smile. He pulled himself up into an almost sitting position, propped on one elbow and with his free hand began to play with my left nipple. It felt so good, accompanying the feeling of fucking him I thought I might pass out, and then the sensation was upon me and I knew I was about to cum, my strokes became faster, harder and a little more erratic, as did my breathing. With a sudden cry I slammed forward and emptied myself into the condom, an orgasm that seemed to start in my toes and leave me utterly drained. I sagged forward against him and felt his stroking hands and probing tongue all over me as I came down from my high.
"Enjoy that?" He asked me as I lay there, rising and falling slightly with the rhythm of his breathing. I rolled off him, enjoying the feeling as my cock slid out of him, and removed the condom, knotting it and pitching it at the waste basket.
"More than anything." I replied, reaching for his stiff cock, I was determined we weren't going to go a second time without him cumming. He sighed and leaned back, hands behind his head as I began to work my hand back and forth. This man had just given me the most amazing pleasure, and I was determined to pay him back for it. I remembered what he had done to me all those moths before, and closed my free hand around his balls, pulling them down and rolling them around in my palm, he grunted his approval and I felt a warm, happy glow spread through me.
I rearranged my posture, so I was kneeling between his legs, feeling the soft hairs on them brushing against me as I moved. I quickly established a rhythm that made him gasp from time to time. I knew what I had to do next, and I knew I wanted to do it, but a tiny voice in my head was telling me that I was mad. I silenced that voice and leant slowly, hesitantly forward until my face was practically touching him. I stuck out my tongue, hesitating again and then with a mental shrug, I touched it to the head of his cock.
"Oh, Josh." He groaned, and I knew I had done the right thing. I began to lick the length of his shaft like it was an ice cream, enjoying its silky smoothness which had surprised me when I had first touched him. Finally, I summoned my courage and raising my head, took his crown between my lips and into my mouth. He tasted okay, slightly salty, but clean and fresh and oh so good. I lowered myself as far as I could without gagging and began to work to time the swirling of my tongue with the stroking of my hand. He was breathing more rapidly and the occasional little happy noise escaped his lips so I figured I had to be doing something right. "Josh, I'm gonna cum."
I realized he was warning me so I could move my head, and I almost did, but something made me stop midway through the action and I slid back down as far as I could. He gasped, but said nothing more. I worked my hand faster, I wanted to taste him, I wanted him to cum before I could change my mind. He groaned again and then, somehow, I knew he was ready, there was a tenseness about that had been absent a moment before. His cock twitched suddenly and my mouth was full of his salty cum, I was so surprised by the suddenness of it that I jerked my head back and the second shot hit me on the chin, after that they landed on his chest. I held it in my mouth for a moment and then swallowed. It wasn't at all how I had expected it to be. I didn't know whether I liked the taste or not, I didn't really know if it had much of a taste. I wiped my chin, and decided that I needed to do more research!
He was propped on his elbows again, looking at me. "What are you thinking?"
"Huh? Oh, nothing." I answered, shaking myself. "That was fantastic."
"You're telling me!" He laughed and sat up fully to take me in his arms. He kissed me with a renewed passion and ran one hand through my short brown hair. I just clung to him and enjoyed the feeling of his smooth, slick, solid body pressing against me. I had never felt so happy in my life, like suddenly after all these years I was a whole person for the first time. "Let's take a shower, stud." He said, pulling back from me and springing to his feet, pulling me up by both hands to join him. I pressed against him and we kissed some more, before he turned away and almost skipped to the shower, looking like a little kid. I admired the strong lines of his back, the smooth muscles of his legs and the curves of his butt as I obediently followed him.
We soaped each other's bodies and kissed repeatedly as the water cascaded down over both of us. I marveled at his strength, not an ounce of fat on his body and he seemed to be just as taken with me as I was with him. I was having trouble believing that a man as wonderful as this could be actively interested in me. But I couldn't doubt his words, he had looked straight at me, with such sincerity in his eyes. We toweled off and headed back to the bed, snuggling into each other in the dark. I sighed a deep, contented sigh and kissed his chest, he pulled me tighter to him.
"How long are you staying for?" I asked him.
"I can't stay long, maybe two more days?"
"Oh." I had known the answer would be something like that, but it still hurt when he said it. I had hoped he would stay for longer so that I could get to know him better, in every way.
"I'm sorry, Josh, I have to get back to work. I told them I'd be there Monday." He sounded upset too. I decided to let it go, and that was how we drifted off to sleep. I woke early the following morning. Mark was sitting on the edge of the bed, he was dressed as he had been the night before, though with a T-shirt under his shirt, looking down at me.
"Hey." I mumbled, my mouth was incredibly dry.
"Morning, stud. Want a coffee?"
"Yeah, please. Why are you dressed?" I sat up and rubbed the sleep out of my eyes.
"Why, did you have plans for me naked?" He winked at me and I laughed as he made me coffee and I slowly dressed myself. "Been over to see your mother."
"What? Why?"
"Relax. I told her we got talking about bikes and I lost track of time. That you fell asleep and I hadn't the heart to wake you so you slept here."
"Oh." I took the proffered cup of coffee and sipped tentatively at it.
"And I told her we fucked like bunnies all night."
"What?" I practically spat the coffee out and then I saw the grin on his face. "Asshole." I muttered.
"Actually I told her I slept on the floor, she wanted to give me my money back, but I refused. She said to send you over when you got up. She seemed worried, Josh. Said you had become a recluse these last few weeks. Fallen out with all your friends. That right?"
"Kinda."
"I offered to talk to you about it. So you get the day off."
"Really?" I was amazed, that wasn't like my mother at all. I guess she really was worried about me. Plus it meant I got to spend the day with Mark, things were beginning to look up.
"Yup. Said it might help to talk to someone nearer your own age. So you can wipe that grin of your face, before we do anything else, you and me are going to talk."
True to his word, Mark took me out on his bike, to a little roadside diner a few miles from town where we ordered breakfast and sat outside to eat it. He made me tell him everything that had happened since he saw me last and to try to explain why. By the end of it all, I felt emotionally drained, but somehow relieved to have finally told someone what was going on in my head. He made few comments as I spoke, asked a couple of questions but mostly I just told it my way. In some way that was exactly what I needed as it forced me to think about things and to articulate them, it was almost cathartic.
We spent the entire day together, just walking and talking and I began to realize that the feelings I had for him were about more than lust, more than sex. I was starting to fall in love with him. The thought both scared and excited me in equal measure. I told him about the dream I had when he left the first time, and we laughed together about it. A year ago there was no way on earth I could have told anyone that I harbored a secret urge to see Reverend Taylor die, I felt so liberated, so free with Mark, all my old inhibitions were falling away. I felt reborn. We made love again that night, slowly and leisurely sucking one another to climax, but this time I couldn't spend the night in his arms as my parents were waiting for me to return. I drifted off into a blissful sleep, with the smell of my lover still on my skin and the taste of him in my mouth.
Sunday morning I begged off church and stayed at the motel. Throwing on clothes and rushing across the parking lot as soon as my parents left, pounding on Mark's door. He answered, sleep in his eyes, rumpled and dressed only in shorts and socks. I pushed him back into the room and started to kiss him. His legs hit the edge of the bed and he plopped into a sitting position. I finally let up kissing him and allowed him to speak.
"And good morning to you too!" He said with a laugh, holding me close. "What's got into you?"
"My parents have gone to church, we have the place all to ourselves." I paused, steeling myself for what I was about to say. "We have hours, I, um, I want you to fuck me, Mark. Please." I hadn't meant to plead, but the look of skepticism that had flashed across his face when I said it compelled me.
"Are you sure about this?"
"Completely!" I assured him. I had thought about nothing else, since I woke up hours ago from the most erotic dream of my life. He rolled me onto my back and looked down into my eyes for the longest time, whatever he saw there must have convinced as he kissed me on the tip of my nose and sat back.
"Well, let's get you out of those clothes then. Not that you're entirely in them!" I looked at myself, I had dressed in such a hurry that my shirt's buttons were in the wrong holes. I wasn't wearing socks, a T-shirt or any underwear, just jeans and a shirt. I grinned at him and he shook his head and mussed my hair. "You're just too cute."
"Cute? Who are you calling cute, Davis?"
"Don't like cute?"
"I think I'm more ruggedly handsome than 'cute'." That made him laugh and his laughter made me feel warm and gooey inside.
"Okay, stud." He finished undressing me and began to run his hands and tongue over my body again, a feeling I was coming to know so well and to crave utterly. He climbed up onto the bed and lay back. "You're in charge, okay?" I nodded, understanding his meaning, I was to sit astride him as he had me, that way I could control the whole situation. He reached for a condom from the nightstand and a small tube that lay beside it, and that I knew was lube. He slicked up his latex covered penis, and then pulled me down for a kiss, rolling on to his side, his strong fingers traced their way down my back and I tensed slightly despite my longing. I felt him slide his hand over my ass and the coolness of the lube on my hole caused me to start and him to laugh again.
"Relax." He whispered and kissed me. "I won't hurt you." He moved to allow himself easier access and for the first time in my life, something slid into my ass, his well lubricated finger went in easily and didn't hurt. It felt weird, but it didn't hurt, and then an amazing new sensation coursed through me and caused my cock and my guts to lurch. "Your prostate." He whispered in my ear. "Good, huh?"
"Oh, God!" Was the only response I could make, now I understood why he had enjoyed it so much the other night as I fucked him. If it felt anything like this I couldn't wait! And I didn't have to, he massaged at me for a while longer and I began to relax into what he was doing to me, and to enjoy it immensely.
"Still okay?" He asked and I nodded mutely. "That's three fingers, stud, I think you're ready to rock and roll." He rolled over, onto his back again, pulling me with him. I settled myself astride him, my legs either side of his hips, poised and ready. He steadied me with one hand on my waist and the other on his cock as I carefully lowered myself onto him. "Push down." He grunted and I obeyed. I felt a sudden stab of pain and stopped dead as the head of his cock slid into me. I was reminded of how massive it had looked that first night and I experienced a moment of panic at the thought of it, but I was brought back by his soft, southern voice.
"Relax. Take your time. Don't rush it." I nodded and began my slow descent again, adjusting to the feeling of this invader as it slid further into me than his fingers could ever have reached. There was an insistence to the pressure, almost an itch, but a good kind of itch. "That's it." He was right, too, that was it, without realizing it, I had managed to take his full length with little or no pain. I felt absurdly proud of myself. Taking a moment to savor the full feeling, I slowly began to move up and down and sucked in my breath at the magnificent sensations it caused. Event he slightest movement against what he had called my 'prostate' seemed to magnify itself and spread out through my entire body.
"Oh, God!" I gasped again as I sped up my motions. We continued like this for a few more minutes, me gasping every time his wonderful length slid back into me. "Mark, I think I'm ready for you to take over, my knees have gone weak." He laughed out loud, a short bark of laughter that was quickly cut off.
"Okay." Once again we rolled, this time I ended up on my back with him looking down into my eyes. He moved my legs until they were wrapped around his waist. "Relax." He told me again and I tried to do as he said. He leaned in and kissed me and I wrapped my arms around him too, knowing that this was how things were meant to be. He began to move, a gentle rocking motion at first which soon became a surer, longer stroke and I felt the sensations building in my guts. I clung to him and gazed up at his slightly reddened face, watching the smooth movements of his muscles as he fucked me slowly and surely. Nothing could be better than this, I would give anything to lie like this and gaze into those eyes.
"Oh, Mark!" I managed to moan out as he picked up speed, I could feel him slamming against me and it was great! And then, utterly without warning I came copiously all over my chest and belly. I moaned aloud and sank my fingernails into his back. He gasped my name and his body tensed, and I knew that he too had reached his climax. That my lover was coming deep inside me thrilled me so much I thought I was going to come again.
"Oh, Josh." He gasped as his arms buckled and he sagged onto me, I lay there, his weight pressing down on me and whooped and yelled in my head and then I did come again between our two sweat soaked bodies. We lay like that for ages, savoring one another, kissing slowly, gently and saying nothing. Finally he pulled himself into a sitting position and pushed his hair out of his face. "You need a wash."
"So do you." I replied and we laughed and held one another. Later, when we had showered and dressed, we sat holding one another and I told him I didn't want him to leave. "I'm going to miss you so much."
"I'm going to miss you too." He stood up and went to the dresser. "This is my number in LA. Once school finishes, I want you to come visit me. Will you?"
"Of course! Try to stop me!"
"And until then, you call me any time, okay? Any time you feel alone, or just need someone to talk to, call me. Promise."
"I promise. I will." I threw my arms around him again and we held one another for the longest time.
"I think I love you, Josh." He murmured to my neck in a voice choked with emotion and I replied with tears streaming down my face, the truest words I ever spoke.
"I love you too."
That afternoon, I stood in the lot and watched him ready his bike for the journey. Stood and watched and said nothing as he threw hi leg over that Triumph and gunned the engine. Stood and watched and didn't cry as I watched him dwindle to a dot in the distance. True to my word, I called him nearly every day and he always sounded so pleased to hear from me. Three weeks later school ended and I went to stay at my sister's for a week, though I really spent most of my time with Mark and in between bouts of lovemaking we talked about everything and anything, bared our souls to one another.
I didn't want to leave, but eventually had to and returned home to the best news I have ever had. I had been offered a place at UCLA that fall, a sports scholarship. I accepted at once, and moved into Mark's apartment two weeks later. I bought a bike with some of the money I had saved and we spend our weekends out of the city, camping out and making love under the stars. We're still together now, and as happy as any two people could ever be. My parents and family still think we're just friends and roommates, and for now that's how it'll have to stay. I'm not ready for that conversation yet, but Mark and I know what we really are, and that's what counts. And Reverend Taylor can go and fuck himself!
THE END
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A final bit of news, the registration process for ardveche.com has been completed and I hope to have the beginnings of a site up there in the not too distant future. I should also say that the next Educating Alex (college) story will be posted in a few days, and that a final, final part of New to this State (high school) will follow that. Stay tuned!