All the characters and events in this story are fictitious. Any resemblance to real people, either living or dead, is entirely unintentional.
The story is copyrighted and may not be reproduced in any way without the express permission of the author who can be contacted at:
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PJ
D'n'M Part 4
From Chapter 3:
"Wow!" One hand moved to gently trace the outline of his steel-hard dick, the other went round to explore the large opening at the back of the jock, quickly homing in on his exposed butt crack. This was, by any measure, a gay-boy's dream cum true. He knew D was out of reach, knew that best friendship was the most he could ever expect from him, knew, too, that this experience was probably the most awesome of his life and that it wasn't going to last long. His hands got busy, both front and back, with one rapidly rubbing up and down his encased dick and the other urgently exploring his pulsing hole.
"Ugh! Ugh! Ugh!" The incredible feeling was building to its inevitable climax. "Ugh! I'm, I'm ..."
A voice from downstairs shouted, "Me and dad are waiting, M. Are you ..."
"... CUMMING!!"
Chapter 4:
Cum-shot #1.
Rapid breathing.
Cum-shot #2.
Slightly slower breathing.
Cum-shot #3.
Nearly normal breathing.
Over the next minute or so Milo's breathing continued to slow. He was dizzy, disorientated by the intensity of the feelings radiating out from his groin. His chest was heaving, his knees quivered. He looked down to see the cum that was still being pumped out of his balls, up his shaft and out of his dick-head beginning to ooze through the fabric of the pouch, its bright white colour contrasting with the blue of the jock. As he watched he saw the sticky liquid begin to spread out from where his dick-head touched the pouch, turning the stain from an island, to a country, to a continent. Cum-shots 4, 5 and 6 followed on from the first three and pushed still more urgent boy-juice up and out. His knees finally buckled and he slid down the door, still watching the cum stain spreading across the front of the jock. The blood began to retreat from the still-pulsing dick, leaving it soft and limp and happy. He had been right, that was one of the most awesome experiences ever, better than Tye, better than Tom, way, way, way better than Zephan (how could he even think about his cousin?), bested only by that time when D had jerked him off. And now his cum was mixed with D's in the pouch of the jock. Yes, definitely awesome. Oh D, why did you have to be straight? If you could have this effect without even being in the room, then what if ...?
No! Milo snapped back to reality. He refused to go down that route. That way would lead to nothing but sadness and longing, disappointment and regret, maybe even the kiss of death to the absolute best relationship in his life. So, no, there would be no `What ifs' and nothing to ever hint to D just how deep Milo's feelings for him were.
Thinking of D, he needed to get himself cleaned up before ...
"M! What's taking you so long? That must be the longest pee in history." D's voice came from just outside the bathroom door.
"Sorry, man, turned out I needed to take a dump." Milo was startled into an improvised lie. It seemed to work.
"Okay, well hurry up and get downstairs -- and mind you don't stink out my bathroom!"
Milo had no answer to that, mainly because the only smells were of fresh cum and teenage boy sweat. A quick squirt of air-freshener would soon put that right. More of a concern was making sure D didn't find out what Milo had really been doing for the last ten minutes. He hurriedly did what was necessary to clean himself up and look presentable for party-preparation duty. He left the bathroom. Dan had already gone. The jock he screwed up and shoved to the bottom of his back-pack, then he made his way downstairs.
D and Roger were already busy moving furniture around the garden. When Milo appeared he was directed to start hanging coloured lights on the lower branches of a couple of big trees. Helen had wanted balloons but D had rejected that idea out of hand. This, he argued, was his first `proper' party so balloons, and anything else that hinted at childishness was strictly off limits. Similarly banned, by the Reed parents, was alcohol -- all the guests would be under-age and Roger and Helen were friends with most of the parents and they wanted to keep it that way. Dan was quite happy to go along with this embargo, as far as he was concerned BBQ, salad, soda and juice were perfectly fine, as he knew they would be with all the 20 or so friends who'd been invited. His mum and dad had also insisted on staying on the premises.
"Out of sight but ready to step in if necessary," was how Helen had explained it.
"And everyone home by midnight," added Roger.
None of these constraints had done anything to dampen Dan's excitement and enthusiasm for hosting his first major social event. Was this another example of the new Dan Reed that Please Call Me kept talking about? If it was, then he liked him. The only thing he could think that could put a damper on the proceedings was literally that -- rain -- but Helen assured him that everything could easily be brought inside and he wasn't to worry about it, so he didn't.
At 7.30, half an hour before the guests were due to arrive, D and M were upstairs getting `suited and booted' (his dad did come out with some strange phrases D thought), Milo putting a great deal of effort into making his hair just the right degree of messed-up and Dan, fresh from the shower, applying deodorant to his sparsely haired armpits.
"You still keeping your pits shaved?" he asked, looking into the mirror and imagining how it would look to be similarly hairless.
"Yeah," said Milo, "I reckon the guys on the team would have me as bald as a newborn if they could. My dad thought it was weird that I get shaved so often, even when there isn't a competition."
"I bet you didn't tell him about the CB's." Dan grinned, remembering M's description of his first shaving experience with Dods.
"Too right I didn't. He may be cool with me being gay but I reckon that would be way too much information." Dan could hear the deep affection M felt for his father in the tone of his voice.
"So how was the fishing trip?"
"It was okay," was M's indifferent reply.
"Okay? Is that all? You're usually full of it when you come back from one of your weekends away with your dad." And this was true. Ever since the aftermath of the three-schools' sports tournament, Milo and his dad had been tighter than ever and M usually couldn't wait to tell D all about their regular father/son adventures. This time he detected a distinct hesitation on M's part.
Dan looked directly at Milo's reflection in the large mirror they were both using. "So what happened? What are you not telling me?"
For several seconds Milo didn't respond then, in a flat tone of voice he said, "Mum and dad are getting divorced."
There was another pause while Dan tried to figure out what to say. M's sort of disconnected tone didn't give him any clues as to how he was feeling. Eventually D asked, "And how do you feel about that?"
"Honestly?"
Dan's reflection nodded.
"I really don't know. I haven't been to visit her since she got out of the rehab place. She says she wants to see me but I'm just not ready." Milo was talking to his reflected self. He didn't look at Dan at all.
"After what she said and did to you? Of course you're not ready." All these weeks on, Dan was still fuming inside at the way M had been treated by his own mother. He couldn't get his head round it, and he couldn't understand how M was still beating himself up over it.
"I know what she did was way out of line, but ..."
"But what?" Dan couldn't keep the anger out of his voice. "She attacked you and threw you out of your own home. And why? For just being you, that's why."
"Yeah, that's all true. But D, whatever she did, she's still my mum."
Dan opened his mouth to add more fuel to his argument. Then he looked at M's reflection in the mirror. Tears were silently streaming down his face. He was making no effort to wipe them away. His arms hung limply at his sides. He wasn't moving at all. Every atom of Dan's anger vanished in an instant as he took Milo by the shoulders, spun him round and pulled him into the tightest of tight hugs. Milo slumped against him to the point where Dan was pretty much holding him up. If this is what he needs,' thought Dan, then this is what I'm here to do, for as long as he needs me to.' Milo's tears dripped onto Dan's naked neck and shoulder.
After a minute or two, during which neither boy spoke, Dan felt Milo's arms move to return the hug and not long after that he realised that he wasn't getting any wetter. Milo lifted his head and looked directly into Dan's eyes. He knew he didn't have to say anything to communicate his thanks and his love. Instead he dropped one hand to D's butt, gave it a sharp slap and said, "Time to get this in gear. You're the birthday boy and you've got a party to give."
Dan rubbed the stinging butt cheek with one hand and reached to grab hold of M with the other, but Milo was too quick for him.
"Oh no, you're not getting me twice in one day," he said as he backed out of the bathroom. "Get dressed. I'll see you down stairs. I'll get the music started. Oh and D, I've got something else to tell you later, once everyone has gone." With that he left the room, leaving Dan still absent-mindedly rubbing his butt and wondering what else M wanted to say. But he clearly wasn't going to find out until later so he'd just have to wait.
Just before eight the two of them were at the front door, greeting the first of the guests to arrive. The majority were well known to D, mainly boys who he'd hung out with for ten years or more. Then there were guys from his days on the soccer team, including Jamal who arrived with his long-time girlfriend, Melissa who, at Jamal's suggestion, had persuaded her best friend, Christy, to tag along.
After the role that Dods had played in uniting the Greenside Community High School athletes against Zephan, he and Dan had become good buddies so Milo was particularly pleased when Dods walked in, trailing the latest in a very long line of on/off girlfriends. Milo didn't catch her name as his attention was entirely caught by the other member of this group of arrivals -- Grey, Milo's victorious relay team-mate and recent jerk-off fantasy object. He was surprised to see Grey as he hadn't been expecting any other swimmers to be at the party, and even more taken aback when Grey and Jamal greeted each other warmly with wide grins and a very complicated, but clearly well-practised, routine of gestures, slaps, fist-bumps and hand-shakes. Seeing the bemused expression on M's face, D explained that Grey and Jamal were cousins and that he'd asked Dods to bring him along. What he didn't say was that he'd been told something about Grey that he knew M would find interesting.
As teenage parties go, Dan's sixteenth birthday bash would have looked, to an objective observer, pretty unremarkable. There was no alcohol-fuelled rowdiness -- there was no alcohol; there was no drug-induced aggression -- there were no drugs; there were no social media gate-crashers -- there was no social media announcement. On the other hand, there was plenty of good-natured high spirits, a great deal of chat, gossip and banter, lots of eating and non-alcoholic drinking, an abundance of age-appropriate gift-giving, a moderate amount of girl/boy pairing-off and a minimum of parental interference. Dan loved it and his enjoyment rose by several notches when Jamal walked up and introduced Christy. As soon as the two were chatting comfortably together, Jamal made an excuse about needing to get a drink for Melissa and left them to it. Dan and Christy were, of course, aware of each other from school, they had even shared a science class the year before, but they'd never had much cause to speak to each other, much less hang out. Increasingly, over the next fifteen minutes or so, D decided he was keen to make up for lost time.
Christy was fairly tall - 5-7 or 5-8 Dan guessed -- with dark blonde hair cut short and shaped into the nape of her neck, pale blue eyes under long lashes and an easy smile. What went on below the neck was, Dan decided, equally appealing. Her lowish cut halter-top revealed just enough of her pink and well-rounded breasts to excite his interest (and his dick) and the short, hipster skirt allowed her long legs and pierced tummy-button to be shown off to their best advantage. But even better than all these externals, Dan soon discovered, was just how easy she was to talk to. Conversation flowed naturally between them as if they'd been good friends for years, quickly revealing a shared interest in keeping fit (she was on the hockey team), the music of Jeff Buckley (a recent recommendation of Tom's) and retro big-screen animations such as Despicable Me and Monsters Inc. When a couple of his ex-soccer buddies came over to get him involved in an impromptu Frisbee game on the lawn Dan was a very reluctant joiner. Just before he was dragged away Christy, with a wide smile on her very attractive face said, "I'll send you my number. Text me." With Beth Harper comprehensively deleted from his radar, Dan was more than a little excited by what that request suggested, and this was exactly what Jamal had hoped and planned when he'd first suggested to Melissa that she should bring Christy to the party.
While Dan was playing Frisbee outside in the garden, Milo was in a corner of the kitchen, deep in conversation with Dods. As captain and vice-captain of the school swimming team, the fact of the two of them standing close together wouldn't have been a surprise to anyone as the automatic assumption would have been that they were talking, as they so often did, about the upcoming season and how they could make it the most successful in the team's history. However, on this occasion, that assumption would have been way wide of the mark. This was a conversation that Milo had been rehearsing in his head for months, partly excited and partly terrified. It was his recent trip with his dad that had finally provided him with the necessary strength and conviction to take the vital next step.
"So will you help me?" he asked. "I can't do it without your support."
"What does D think?" asked Dods.
"I haven't told him yet. I wanted to know if you'd be on board before I said anything."
"Wow!" exclaimed Dods. "You're talking to me about this before D? I'm flattered."
"Well don't be, it's no biggie really, so don't get all big-headed about it. I know D will have my back whatever, but I need to know that you're on board and prepared to push back if the other guys aren't happy."
"We're solid, man. No worries there, trust me. Just give me the heads up when you're ready and we'll work out the where and how together." Dods pulled M into a brief bro-hug before asking, "How are your practice sessions with Grey going? He told me his times have really improved. He says you're a great coach."
"Nah," replied M modestly, "His improvement isn't much down to me. He works really hard during our sessions and he puts in extra time at weekends. He'll be better than both if us before the start of the season." He laughed.
Despite Milo's protestations to the contrary, the fact was that the recent reduction in Grey's times in the pool, particularly over the 50 metre freestyle, had a lot to do with the hours he'd been spending with Milo. The truth was that he was keen, very keen, to impress the vice-captain to the point where they could move beyond being merely team-mates and become friends, ideally friends with benefits. Since the three-schools' tournament, and particularly since secretly watching that awesome circle-jerk from behind a row of lockers, Milo had become Grey's #1 jerk-off fantasy figure. His imagination ran wild with images of himself and M in every possible sexual scenario. He had no need of on-line porn to get hard, he just had to picture M in his Speedo to go from limp to rigid in seconds flat. In fact, the reality of being with the almost-naked object of his fantasy adoration was becoming more and more difficult to hide, with practice sessions being almost physically painful. He was running out of ways of concealing his throbbing boner when they were both dressed only in their Speedos.
Of course, Milo had no clue about Grey's infatuation with him, a real bummer of a situation given the fact of his own increasingly lust-fuelled interest in his younger team-mate. If they'd been straight and one of them a girl, their liking for each other would have followed the usual course in cases of teenage hook-ups, that is, a sequence of hints and looks, `accidental' touchings and tentative advances, text-messaging and whispered conversations, until the day of the inevitable pairing-off and sighs of relief from all their friends that, finally, they'd got their act together. But neither was straight nor a girl so none of the above applied. Instead, their desire to get their hands on each other's body -- indeed, specific parts of each other's body -- was known only to themselves and provided fuel for a great deal of frustrated and lonely jerking-off. It was largely due to this sense of treading water (metaphorically speaking, although, come to think of it ...) and of his life going nowhere, that Milo had made the decision that he had been discussing with Dods and which he was intending to explain later to D. In the meantime, he had only to follow the sound of laughter and cheering into the garden to see both D and Grey fully involved in the game of Frisbee.
Milo had plenty of opportunities to appreciate Grey's near naked body in and around the pool, and now he had to admit that the boy looked pretty special fully clothed, too. If only... Well, if things panned out the way he hoped, maybe a hook-up with Grey wasn't impossible. There was just the small complication of having absolutely no clue about Grey's sexuality. In all the time they'd been spending together recently in the pool, he had never given any sort of hint that he might be gay, much less interested in Milo, although he had noticed the younger boy stealing furtive glances at him in the locker room as well as frequent junk-adjustments on pool-side. But then, guys often scoped each other out, usually for comparison purposes, so he probably shouldn't leap to any wildly optimistic conclusions. Crap! Why was life so complicated? It would be so much easier, M thought, if one of them was a girl and they were both straight. D and all the other guys there at the party had no idea how lucky they were.
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