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Dear Journal:
It's past midnight. A thick fog has rolled in, lifting my spirits. It is here where I live; somewhere here between the darkness and the light is where I am happiest. It's where I belong, shrouded from all that might see. Just me. Like a dim street lamp that you can see when you are upon it, only it casts not enough glow as to reveal itself for those who don't look for it. That street lamp is me, I'm here, but I'm hidden in the fog where most people pass me by without even noticing.
I like it this way. I dream of my freedom on nights like this.
Chris called like promised. I had the ringer off so that it wouldn't wake the house but watched for it to light up seemingly forever. I need desperately to get a cell phone. Haha, that's just a whole different situation and set of problems on top of all my current problems that I don't think I'm ready to handle yet. I don't want a new boyfriend. I'm sure that's where this is headed. With Chris that is. I mean yeah, I want a boyfriend and I want to love and be loved. Don't we all? But I'm not ready to give love or be loved by someone new. What If I don't love him? I mean it's not necessarily going to go that way at all, it's just hopeful thinking that it will even be a good relationship. But here I go again; critically overanalyzing something that hasn't yet even had a chance to happen. No, I like it here tonight, sitting on the computer here in the laundry room between my actual bedroom and the kitchen, right beside the warmth of the dryer as my work uniform dries. With the door closed to the kitchen I can make this an extension of my incredibly small room. I'd roll the computer desk into my actual room like I usually do, but my room doesn't have a window and I'd rather look out into the hidden abyss tonight. Looking out the window into the deep shroud of fog I assess my life and my worth. Yes, here safe in my home at 2:00 a.m. where no one else can affect me; I can surf the net, I can look at porn and do my thing masked under the squeaking of the dryer. Or like now, I can just simply relate my cruddy life to you, Journal as I download a ballad that Ozzy Osborne did with Lita Ford (If I Close My Eyes Forever) while currently listening to Def Leppard's new Euphoria CD. Man, Rick Savage looks good in the liner pictures! And headphones. What a great invention; no longer watching for the phone I can create my own sullen world with them on and no one's the wiser.
I'll tell you about Chris's first phone call. Luckily I answered the phone. I pretended like I was talking to Tim in case anyone overheard what I was saying. I put the same limitations on the conversation as I would with anyone. Nothing sexual, nothing revealing. Just in case anyone might hear. Larry was over for dinner that night. Candace and Lacey were washing the dishes after dinner, while Larry and Mom, and Scott and Deanna waited on them to finish so that they could play cribbage. Feeling incredibly on the spot there in the kitchen, during the one minute conversation we had I think my voice cracked 3 times. It was the usual `hi, how are you' fluff, and then I quickly brushed him off, telling him I was busy getting ready to go out for the night and he'd have to call another time. I thought that I had pushed him away. I mean lets face it, again I tell you I'm not really in the market for a new boyfriend. I can't see how I could ever be happy with Chris when I had been so happy with Daniel. And still I feel guilty; it's great to feel wanted by someone. That was Thursday, two nights after the Beach Bash. The one good thing that came out of that debacle of a phone call was that Larry whispered to Mom that a young boy might need his own phone in a house full of women.
Honestly Journal, I didn't mean to come off that blunt with Chris. For what it's worth he seems like a really nice guy. Is it maybe jealousy I wonder? He is out, no question about that. He doesn't seem to get harassed about it, he has friends that look like they accept him for who he is. What's more is that they really know who he is. Why did he have to go and develop a crush on me? Should I be mad, maybe? After all, I was with Daniel when he first started liking me. And almost a year of liking me? He's honestly been watching me for that long? Heck, that's got to go right back to when Daniel and I got jobs at the restaurant. Should I be flattered? I guess? Why then am I always so short with him then when he calls you ask Journal? No,no you don't ask, so I'll tell you. Duh, I'm a straight boy remember? Yeah, tits and ass! Pussy! Yum, yum, yum! That's what my family think I like. Shhhh! Remember? I'm not gay! Only Larry knows and he's never lead on any different. So when he calls me it's hard to talk without being overheard because the one and only phone in my house is in the kitchen. Thus it makes most topics off limits when Chris is asking me things. I've explained it, and he understands, but then he forgets in the moment and presses me anyway. He apologizes, remembering what it was like being closeted, only to slip up again. Plus he has the advantage of his own phone and phone line, presumably in his own room.
Chris called again the next day, on Friday. Mom answered the phone, told me there was `a someone' on the phone for me. She gave me a coy little smile, one that says I'm on to you. Bette Midler's song, The Rose was playing on the radio. Mom winked at me and mock danced away to it. I'll give him credit, Chris is tenacious. He wanted to do something that night, but I had to let him down because I had plans with my small group of friends. He sounded defeated when he replied that it was O.K. Somehow he again managed to reduce me to emotionally distraught hopeless romantic. It gave me a lump in my throat, to cause him hurt, so I quickly suggested getting together Sunday before my shift at the restaurant. He jumped on the opportunity like a fat kid on a Smartie! By the time I was hanging up the phone I was smiling despite myself as Jennifer Rush's The Power of Love played on the radio. Mom was grinning back at me. She didn't say anything, she just winked at me again. I guess things are just starting to heat up between her and Larry because she's on a cloud.
That night it was just Neil, Tania and I until Natalie showed up at Tania's. It was a pretty good night I guess, we watched Sleepy Hollow and I lusted over Johnny Depp. Natalie was real friendly towards me, and it at some point became apparent to me that the night might have been a set-up for me to get together with her. I found out that she and Tim actually are good friends and they were neighbours and went to the same school until he moved just before grade 9. Sort of your Peter Parker - Mary Jane Watson thingy. Only they were friends, not just neighbours like Spidey and his girl; however, while I'm not certain, I think Tim does have a crush on her, and she on him. Plus I don't think he's out at the moment doing superhero things like Spidey, but you get the picture. It confused me at first until I found this out because I thought Tim wanted her and was chatting her up at the beach earlier in the week. So not knowing that they were just friends I felt real uncomfortable when she was trying to lean against me during the creepy parts and was all chatty after the movie. Neil and Tania were all gooey eyed again. When aren't they lately? Natalie let them know she was going out for a smoke and yanked my arm, less than subtly suggesting I needed to go outside too. Outside with her she came right out and asked me if I liked her. That was difficult. I said I don't even know her. She said that's true and asked if I wanted to get to know her. I was stuck, so I told her that I'd never really dated any girl, and I would have to get to know her more before I could decide such a thing. Adding to my load of crap I tried to explain my life schedule with school and two part time jobs. Natalie said it's O.K. and that it was Tim's idea because he thought we were a good match. Then she asked me if I like boys. Woah. She wasn't really joking. She told me how Tim has mentioned things about me and while he's never said it and doesn't probably even think it, she thinks based on what she's heard from him that I must be gay. She also said that I didn't have to make any excuses; that I can just say no. I was embarrassed, and mixed up. I don't know her, like hell I'm telling her the answer. But still, being discovered, or outed made me act strange. Inside I wanted to tell her not to tell Tim incase I've misjudged him and he ends up beating me or something. Outwardly I tried my best to just laugh it off and act like it was no big deal. What bothered me most was the way I acted in the sense that I clung to her like my puppy does to me after he's done something shameful, like peeing in the house or chewing the duvet on my bed to shreds. She left shortly thereafter so we didn't have too long to feel awkward with each other.
I at first figured that because Tim wasn't with us that he would have been with Natalie but when she showed up last night it squashed that idea. So where was that tricky dog then if not with Natalie then you ask? No, no. Again Journal you don't ask but I'll tell you anyway. I guess in my preoccupation with Chris and my lusting over Paul Hunter this week I totally forgot that Tim's family was going away to a cousin's wedding in New Orleans for the weekend. He did say `see you Monday' at Friday's lunch break after all before taking the afternoon off. I felt totally stupid when it finally dawned on me. Thankfully I never voiced my question and thereby avoided looking as stupid as I felt! This at least paved the way for me to see Chris Sunday morning while not having to make up an excuse to Tim and have Natalie psychoanalyze it.
Yeah Sundays! Lately my Sunday mornings are usually devoted to playing Grand Theft Auto or Final Fantasy with Tim. At least he doesn't try to get me to play baseball with him and a group from school after the first time 3 weeks ago. That proved disastrous on two counts. I suck for starters, and I can't keep my eyes from gravitating to the guys crotches. I have no idea what the score of the game was, or how many balls I didn't catch, but I could have taken wagers on who was going au natural and who was wearing a cup. If I hadn't embarrassed myself so badly playing I might have risked playing again with them for the eroticism. But I might embarrass myself that way too because let's face it, it's obvious when a guy is fixated on the other guy's crotches in a sport where they all wear skimpy pants. And then if a guy is wearing loose-fitting shorts, or jogging pants or tear-aways it becomes even more of a stare while you look for the goods. Except for the fat ugly guys and the already hairy guys, like Neil. Nice guy, but damn Neil, shave your furry stomach and chest already! Obviously I don't even care to waste time checking their goods out. So anyhow, Tim usually plays ball Saturday mornings instead and we do the game system thing or fool around in his pool until I have to go to work on Sundays. But damn, while I don't favour Tim sexually (as hot as he is) I got hard every time he adjusted or scratched. It seems baseball players do it so often that they have no qualms about just doing it wherever and whenever necessary. Like say for a seemingly exaggeratedly long span of time and an overly frequent amount of times while driving. If Tim didn't adjust almost every time after shifting gears then I'm not gay. And you know quite well Journal, the fact that I noticed every time Tim's hand went there means I just might be gay! Haha! At least when Daniel played baseball with the guys a while back for a couple weeks he didn't embarrass himself based simply on his natural ability and athleticism. Me? Yeah the solo hand pump action is my only real sport right now and for the foreseeable future!
So as I worked at the music store and then the restaurant Saturday I increasingly felt a knot growing in my stomach. I got mad butterflies in my stomach when Chris came in for dinner with his family. They are a cute, typical family; a mom, a dad, a son and a daughter. I couldn't tell who is older by appearance, his sister or him. I said hello to his family and nodded to him as they came in. I'm sure I caught his sister asking if `that's him' (meaning me). I don't have any pull at the restaurant, but I flirt back and forth with the girl that takes names for the waiting list so I asked her if she could squeeze them in quicker. She said that she can't in case any customers overheard the question, but I noticed that she in fact sat them is well less than half the time they should have waited.
Chris seemed to watch me very closely, and when I went to do my routine bathroom check he was there before I was done. There was another older man in the washroom so Chris contained himself to a simple `hi' and a million dollar smile. Of course while I wiped the counter dry and checked the soap levels I did check his ass out in the mirror as he stood at the urinal. Not bad, not bad at all. After shaking it and zipping up he said he'd call me tonight and was gone before I could argue. I can't explain it, it's not like I had any expectations or premonitions about Chris. And again Journal, for the record, no I am not actively on the market for a boyfriend! With that said I can't figure why I was getting butterflies in my stomach. The whole night they just seemed to keep me company no matter what I was doing. Why does my mind completely go to mush around him?
So I raced home as fast as public transit could get me and waited for the phone. It rang just shortly after midnight. Chris asked me if I could meet him out front of the restaurant tomorrow morning at 9:00 a.m. Not thinking of what I might have to do in the morning, I hastily agreed to meet him there.
Presently Def Leppard is shelved and I am listening to Power Ballads online through Iceberg Radio. Stephen Tyler of Aerosmith sang sweetly to his Angel', Kansas was just strumming out Dust In The Wind', and Damn Yankees questioned if they could be taken High Enough' before that. It's like that all the time for me. I can identify with too many songs and find meaning in them. Way too many songs in fact that I can dwell upon; finding sadness in. But lately I don't just hear the sad song anymore, I mostly hear the hope instead. And yet I cry now, here alone in the middle of this foggy night. Bittersweet tears I suppose? I've just nodded off through Dream Weaver I believe. Now Cinderella is letting me that we Don't Know What You Got (Till It's Gone)'. O.K. That does it. Again, I'm crying now. The guitar solo seemed so inspiring when I was with Daniel and now it seems so hollow and lonely. Of course I attach these emotions to the songs. Still, all it takes to reduce me to tears over Daniel is a simple song. The Scorpions' Send Me An Angel' is followed up by Toto's I'll Be Over You'. After Night Ranger's Sister Christian' plays Queensryche's Silient Lucidity' raises the question if it's all just a dream before paving the way for Europe's Carrie', which questions if maybe we'll meet again, somewhere, somehow. Then the Def Leppard song Have You Ever Wanted Someone So Bad' comes on and I've had it.
I switch to the 80's Hair Bands channel but that doesn't last long as Bon Jovi's Wanted Dead Or Alive' gives way to Tesla's Love Song'. Finally an uplifting song. It's both that and melancholy, but I see the up side. Off goes the computer as Traci Guns starts the intro guitar riff into L.A. Guns' `Never Enough'. Not that I don't love L.A. Guns, but because I am fucked up beyond belief, having tormented myself with song after song. And on top of that I am meeting Chris in 6 hours now and I just don't even want to think about it.
I grab my copy of George R.R. Martin's A Clash of Kings'. I loved his first book in the series called A Game of Thrones', and am completely (albeit secretly) lost in the realm of this author's imagination while I wait on Robert Jordon's next installment of The Wheel of Time and Stephen King's next offering to The Dark Tower. By 5:00 a.m. I have put another 50 page dent into the book while frequently nodding off, But I still have yet to manage to fall asleep. I give up on the book because I can't recall what I've just read, and try to sleep. It's got to be closing on 6:00 a.m. when I start to fitfully sleep. By 7:20 I am sick and tired of waking up every 10 minutes so I get out of bed and head for the flush. Once I've relieved my bladder I head to the kitchen and grab some juice before grabbing my uniform from the dryer and deciding on what the hell I should wear for my (date?) with Chris.
I'm somewhat nervous Journal. I don't know why. Is my anticipation somehow that below my still tightly guarded feelings of loss I actually might want a relationship? Am I kidding myself? Why do I keep going along with things and play into Chris' hand? I mean I could have just told his friend I wasn't interested and left it at that. But then I saw him. There he was, a gay boy who didn't give a shit who knows about his sexuality. Like it's nothing. So brave, so courageous. He was in a standing in a group of normal people, presumably his friends, and they were acting totally normal to him. He seemed so confident and sure of himself, having fun there at the beach. Something drew me to him. And then I saw how gentle and vulnerable he too, like myself, when I went over with her and she told him. Seeing his face, his reaction at her news, my heart cried out for him because I know what it feels like. Well not exactly, his momentary loss and sadness pale in comparison to mine, but I still know what he instantly felt. O.K. Yes. I want to get to know him. I want to be accepted. I want a friend who knows I'm queer and it doesn't matter to. In fact I guess you could say that I want his life. But do I want him? Hmmm. I don't know how or why, but yes.
There. There it is. I want to be with Chris. He wants to be with me. I don't know him and I am so fucking unbelievably nervous. What if he meets me and doesn't like me. What if he doesn't want to be with me because I am a closet case? What if he outs me? He sounds gay, really. Will hanging out with him give me away to people too? But can I learn his confidence? Can I steal his self worth? Haha. Why am I such a looser? Most importantly, am I now afraid to love and be loved?
Anyways, changing the subject, I know it's perverted but I masturbate in the shower. I know I get afforded a lot of privacy, but still it's the only place I get enough guaranteed privacy during the daytime to get a quick one off before anyone gets suspicious as to what the hell I'm up to. Looking at my body as the water starts to cascade over me I wish I had a treasure trail. They are so sexy, but I guess being basically smooth works too. So, after shaving my sac and crack so the only hair down there is a patch above my dick, I get right down to business under the running water. If I don't I'm liable to shoot off in my shorts with Chris today! I've been exploring myself more lately, trying to add a physical aspect to my mental image of Daniel inside me, like I sometimes do with a wine bottle in bed. That's what I really want. I know I haven't experienced it with a girl, and I've only actually experienced it the once for that matter, but there can be no better feeling than the way two guys hips connect. With Daniel lying down on my bed, as deep inside me as he could go, it was so incredible the way the front of his hips pressed against my butt and hips. The sex was uncomfortable at best, but after moving up and down him only a few times I was in ecstasy. It hardly took any jerking on my part to make myself spray cum all over him. And right then as I tensed up I could feel his body spasm and his hips thrust up hard against me as he filled the condom. I cried, it was all too much. With him still solid inside me I leaned forward and made out madly with him. I professed my love for him then, quoting Cheap Trick's `The Flame' telling him he was the first and wherever he goes I'll be with him. That feeling is what I have silently longed for since. Yes, of course the emotional was bliss, but also the physical part that was created in the presence of that emotional part. In that moment I wished I could have remained forever connected to him physically; it just felt so right.
So I've showered, I have my work uniform in a gym bag over my shoulder, and I'm about to head out the door to catch the bus. I've picked out a pair of light tan cargo shorts and a damn expensive white, red and black Quicksilver shirt. I've gone with a fresh new pair of 2(x)ist athletic briefs that were to be a match for the pair I planned on giving Daniel for Valentine's day. I chose white ankle socks because I only have a single pair of grey, red and black runners for shoes aside from my dress shoes and work shoes. I've laboured over styling my hair so that it's `just so' and splashed myself with too much Polo Sport. Maybe I should bring that and my deodorant with me because I am sweating!
Wish me luck Journal!
Part 3: Confusion Rolls In
As soon as I get off the bus I see him just down the street parked in front of the restaurant by the road. From the distance, maybe 300 feet, he looks quite good. My breath hitches momentarily, my already racing heart is in my throat and I have mad butterflies in my stomach. Last chance to bail out. No, he's smiling at me. He's seen me already. Well here I am, here goes! I walk as casually as possible around his Jeep. I fumble getting into it, the lack of a door throwing me off.
"Nice wheels," I compliment.
"Yeah, thought you'd like them. My Dad's probably going to give me one soon because I keep harassing him to bring this one home from the dealership. My Mom hates it, says it's not safe." He replies through an absolutely beaming smile.
He reaches over to kiss me. I don't lean towards him, fuck that, I'm not `out'! The radio is playing. Duran Duran's Ordinary World leads into a pop/dance song called One For Sorrow, by a British group named Steps. I've heard the song before, but at the moment here in Chris's car it really moves me. Fuck, thoughts of Daniel are bringing involuntary tears to the corners of my eyes. I hide them as I apologize for not kissing him by trying on his sunglasses that were on my seat.
"Don't worry. I didn't think. I'm the one that should be sorry." Chris corrects me, before asking, "So what do you want to do?"
I counter, "I dunno. It's your big plan. What did you have in mind?"
A big, and I mean hugely big grin flashes in response.
Defensive, feeling on the spot I snap back in response, "We're not going there Chris. Not today. Look, I'm really nervous about all of this. Can we just get going somewhere so that someone from work doesn't see me?"
"Not to worry stud. I don't fuck on the first date so chill. I was just teasing. You asked what I had in mind, and fucking you is all I've had in mind since I first saw you. I can hold off a bit longer. But I do want to have my way with your gorgeous body sooner than later!" He says it as it is.
Shifting in my seat as he starts to back out of the parking spot I notice a few X-Man comics in a bag behind his seat. I've seen a few at Tim's; his brothers Sam and Will are rabid X-Men and Spiderman fans respectively. I've been intrigued by them, but I don't pick one up to look at because Tim shows no interest in them. So how can I then? In a different element here, knowing that it must be Chris' I pick them up to look at. The first one has a Japanamation cover of Iceman and some chick. Fuck, is it stupid that I think Iceman actually looks hot? It is a comic after all!
Chris is slightly red in the cheeks at my discovery, so to break the moment he suggests, "How about we swing by my place this afternoon. I don't want to go there just yet until my family goes to the church fundraiser brunch though. Maybe we can go catch a matinee or something?"
"I dunno. The malls aren't open and I can't think of any place that shows matinees this early in the morning. Why aren't you with your family at church?" I argue.
"My parents go out of guilt to my grandparents, but they feel that I shouldn't have to be subjected to a religion that denounces and admonishes me." He informs before whining, "Well what do you want to do then?"
"Hmm. How about breakfast somewhere?" I offer; my mind so in a fog somehow that I can't recall if I even ate this morning.
In unison we both say "Denny's." So Denny's it is.
It's only a block away from my work, so we have to turn around to go to it because we've already passed it.
Focusing on the dashboard of the Jeep because I don't particularly like the lack of a door beside me, it dawns on me who Chris might be. Milner. As in the son of either Dom or Mitchell Milner of the Milner Chrysler-Dodge-Jeep dealership and other businesses as well as various housing buildings in Houston.
So I ask him, "Does you Dad own the dealership and those buildings?"
He sheepishly replies, "Yeah, sorta. He and my Uncle mostly took over for my Grandpa after he retired a couple years ago."
"So you're Chris Milner then?" I state the obvious.
He rebuffs me, "Yeah, and you're Jon Farrrows. It doesn't change things right?"
"No. I guess not. But now I'm embarrassed." I offer.
"Embarrassed? Why?"
"Well you probably live in a huge mansion in one of those gated communities and I live in the slums." I explain.
"Jon. It doesn't matter to me. Where you live doesn't change who you are." He says, I guess with sincerity.
O.K. Wait a minute. Is this banter or is this totally honest. I don't really know. Do I drop my guard and be open and honest like I want to, or do I protect myself and see how it plays out, giving him holes to see through, but not fully exposing myself. What does it matter though? I'm not sure I'm good enough to pull either off! Well here goes, rebuffing him I say "Easy for you to say. So why do you like me anyway, you just think I'm cute and want to screw me and move onto another conquest?"
Ouch. Is this what hurt looks like on his face? It must be. His beaming smile is replaced by ever so slightly trembling lips. His bright eyes are suddenly plain, the corners narrowed as if unconsciously wincing. "That's not how it is at all Jon. If I never get to have sex with you I'd be fine. I mean, well, I don't know. Sure, I get all horny by you and want to fuck your brains out, but If I can't I'll live just fine. I don't know. I'm sure I sound silly, but from the first time I saw you it was weird, you know? I just had to know you somehow, if you can understand."
Yes, I know what that's like, and yes, I get it, I really get it. For the first time in my life I am momentarily in sync with another person. Chris is feeling as completely insecure and unsure as me. He doesn't have a master plan, he doesn't even have the next move planned out. He is just a more expressive and obviously gay teenage male than me. But he isn't the super confident, what's-it-matter-to- you, proud queer I thought he is. He is just a normal guy, with normal feelings and desires, only the fact that he is obviously gay has made him comfortable with his sexuality while I still try to hide mine at all costs.
"Shit, Chris. I'm sorry. I look at you and I think because you are out that you are more than me. You know? Like I feel totally nervous around you. I guess I'm intimidated by you."
"By me? Ha! Capital h, capital a, exclamation! No one's intimidated by me, I'm the sissy fag, remember?"
"Well you intimidate me. You're gay and people know. You still have friends and even straight ones. Maybe you don't see it but that makes you like a god, or a superhero or something."
We mutually feel awkward now. Chris had parked a couple minutes ago, so to avoid the subject from getting any further he undoes his seat belt, quickly squeezes my hand after looking for anyone watching, and hops out of the jeep. "Lets go in, alright?"
It feels strange going to breakfast with Chris. During our wait to be seated, it feels like because we know that we're on a date that everyone around knows too. I tell myself that we look like any two guys, no one gives a shit one way or the other. But when the seater asks us if it's just the two of us she says so in a knowing voice. She looks us up and down, smiles and the tone in her voice gives her bigotry away. At least that's the inflection I think I notice. Chris doesn't follow her, so I stay with him.
"Did you see her smirk and roll her eyes to the other girl?" He loudly asks me.
The girl taking names looks our way and asks, "Is everything O.K.?"
"Well, no Liz, everything's not O.K. Tell Wendy to drop the attitude. At school's one thing, but I can get her fired here for that." And with that Chris turns and heads for the door. I can only follow suit.
At the door a manager opens the door for us and asks how everything was. Chris says we decided not to wait.
Ignoring the situation Chris asks, "So. Where to now?"
Looking across the road both our eyes settle on the friendly golden arches so we walk across to McDonalds.
Breakfast there is quick, we don't really talk much. Chris of course insisted in paying for me and I feel somewhat mad at that, again I feel inferior and poor. I have money, I can pay for myself thank you very much. Why does he have to be a dick and insist? I guess he's doing it in a chivalrous way, but still it's a slap to my pride.
Waiting until I finish the last bite of my pancake breakfast Chris asks, "So. What now?"
Full of great ideas I offer my best, "Well, I don't know. What do you want to do?"
"Kiss you. Feel those soft shiny red lips of yours." He says with a nervous laugh.
"Right here?" I ask.
He affirms "No, I wouldn't put you on the spot here."
"Why not?" I boldly question.
"Yeah right. Whatever." Chris brushes me off.
I feel alive with Chris I discover. I feel somehow completely emboldened by him. So I counter, "Why not? Right here. Just a quick one?"
"Yeah right," he laughs, choking on some orange juice that he must have snorted into his nose.
O.K. The moment has passed. I'm completely chickening out now anyhow so we let the moment pass and get up, taking our trays to the garbage.
Suddenly heading to the door Chris stops dead in his tracks and announces, "I have to go to the washroom, come with me."
So I follow him to the washroom. He does his thing at the urinal and then washes his hands. I of course tried to check him out, but got nothing. So I stare at his ass as he dries his hands under the dryer. The room is momentarily empty except for us so Chris turns with his trademark grin and plants the quickest, most gentle peck on me. About to ask what the hell he's doing my lips are open as we connect. Chris kisses my teeth. We both nervously laugh. Hearing the outer door to the washroom opening I speedily lean in to him and plant a real peck on his lips and pull away before the new person enters through the second washroom door. Heading out of the place we are both beaming with smiles. As corny as the thought is I can't help but think that at least it's a place where smiles are free!
Why does everything in me feel so good suddenly?
Hopping in the Jeep Chris again asks me, "So any bright ideas?"
"Nope, none." I say in dismay. I don't want this to go this way, I want to get to know him suddenly. Like really get to know him and be close to him unlike an hour ago where I was mildly curious about what he was like and how it would be like to be like him.
He offers a solution, "O.K. Well how about we swing by my place? It's not the best idea, and you might feel completely uneasy, so if you do just say so. But at least we can be a bit relaxed rather than feel like everyone is watching us?"
Hmm. What to do? Just as my Mom seems to be, I'm on a fucking cloud. A nice bright, soft, fluffy cloud that I don't want to get off of. I fully hear what he says, I fully understand what he says, I even think that he's completely sincere in his reasoning and not just trying to get me into his bed. But it's again like I'm on autopilot. Only this time, with Chris my autopilot is pushing me forward rather than pulling me back like it did with Daniel. I hear my response and almost wonder who said it, "Sure. I'd like that."
"O.K." Big breath, Chris seems nervous now. How good it feels to realize that he's going through the exact same insecurities as me! He cautions me, "Now look. I'm not trying to show off or anything, O.K. You have to understand that. My house is big and I don't want you to hate me for it or think anything about me at all because of it. It's my parent's house, not mine. I'm just a seventeen year old kid who lives there with them. Got it?"
"Uh, yeah, sure."
Chris squeezes my hand again before backing out of the parking spot.
We drive for a couple minutes before he comes up to an immaculately treed street. About 100 feet into the street we stop so that a security guard can wave to him and press a button to lift the gate. After passing a few dozen mansions on each side of the street a boulevard starts in the middle of the street and widens to a picturesque park. Not a kids park with swings and sea-saws, but an adults park with a fountain and a pagoda. Halfway through the park, on the right hand side of the split Chris turns into a tree covered driveway. After driving under about a dozen trees on both sides the driveway opens up and a massive three level mansion is revealed. I had caught a glimpse of the imposing stately old home, it's manicured flower beds and grass before we turned into the laneway and was impressed. Now, seeing it is his I can understand the disclaimer he had given me prior. I gasped.
"Yeah. This is my home. It was the first one here, over 130 years old. It's been in my family since it was built by my Grandpa's Grandpa. There's always only been one child to pass it on to until my Dad and Uncle. But uncle Mitch doesn't like it, says it's too stuffy so he bought the one next door. That one is only 40 years old or something. So this could be mine someday I guess. So don't hate me for it O.K.?"
"Chris, this is amazing. It's so huge." I gaped.
"Yeah I know, but you don't get the tour yet. It's too embarrassing. My parents have to be gone now, how about we hit the pool?"
I could protest that I don't have anything for the pool but that's obvious to both of us. At least I think so, which I also think is another reason he even offered it. So I just agree, "Sure, sounds cool."
That set off his gift to gab, "Sweet! Do you want to skinny dip or can I at least see you naked when you change? I have tons of Speedos and some awesome ones that should fit you perfectly. You look like you the same build as me, I'm guessing you're 5'10" too. I'm 160 lbs so you're probably the same. Just one unmentionable measurement that I can only leave for discovery. Or if you're modest I have lifeguard shorts too that would look hot on you; show off you're wicked tan!"
My heart is pounding in my throat, my hands are sweaty, my shirt is soaked in the armpits. But I am curious too, "What the hell, show me what you got. Where's you room?"
"It's a corner apartment, sort of. I have a bedroom in the front and back corners over there on the top floor (pointing to the right hand side) and a couple rooms that join them."
Chris walks me purposely in through the garage entrance, impressive enough in itself that eight cars can park in it. We walk down rich wood floors and corridors to a grand staircase in the back corner of the house that boasts the back yard views through it's many paneled windows. The top floor is equally as impressive as the part of the main floor that I saw as we walk down one hallway to his rooms. The house is so big that it has a hallway running through it that forms a rectangle, and rooms inside that! His room is a slight contradiction to the rest of the house. Everything in the house is so formal and tasteful, and then his room looks like any other teenagers room, except much bigger. He has posters of rock bands, a guitar and drums, and a trophy shelf. He has clothes on the floor and plates and glasses by his computer and his T.V. and game consoles. He leads me to the bedroom toward the front of the house which has poster upon poster of an Australian swimmer named Ian Thorpe. Some are very homoerotic the way he has them collaged on his wall.
Stating the obvious I comment, "So, you're into swimming."
"Yeah, you could say that. My parents tried to get me into rowing when they made me go to private school but I prefer to swim and diving. Except thee coaches of one don't like you to do the other and I don't know what I like more." As he saying this he's toeing off his shoes and then pulling his shirt off and tossing it onto a dresser. Looking at me he pauses and then slides open a dresser drawer and offers, "Sorry. I forgot my manners. If you want to change in another room I totally understand I guess. So did you want the shorts or the Speedo?"
"Well the way you raise you eyebrow at the Speedo I guess I'll go with that. I've never worn one before though, so don't stare or I'll probably pee myself in your pool." I tried to laugh it off. Problem is my 6" friend currently is pointing directly north in my shorts as I stare at his shorts sitting low on white underwear band that still are sitting low on his exposed hips. Chris is completely smooth, no hair even on his legs or arms and I can see that as low as his shorts are sitting that there certainly is no treasure trail either.
He fishes out a navy blue Speedo with white and red stars and stripes designs on it. Handing it to me he holds my hand, pulls me towards him and kisses me. He reaches into his drawer again and pulls out a thin white jockstrap. We start kissing pretty passionately and next thing I notice his hand is rubbing the jockstrap over my shorts along the length of the shaft of my dick. We stumble-walk over to the bed, keeping our lips locked the whole time. My face feels flush, I know my cheeks are burning red like when I get embarrassed. Thing is though, I'm not embarrassed. At least I don't think so. My hand has slipped under the waistband of his briefs and now too is exploring Chris's member. It feels slightly longer than mine, and as it gets more aroused I judge it to be at least as thick as mine. His free hand moves from the back of my neck to my chest and he firmly pushes me onto the bed. I want this to happen. Split second decision has given me the green light rather than saying that I don't want this. I just want it to be gentle. I want Chris to go down on me and make love to me. He certainly has a talent for the way he's getting my body excited. I'm guessing he has a lot more experience than me.
Chris peels off my shirt, unfastens my belt and has my shorts at my knees deftly, almost maintaining our kissing the whole way. I fumble with his shorts for a while until he hooks his thumbs under the waistband and shucks them with style. Oh geez, yeah he is well endowed; the wet, pulsating tip of his penis is staring at me, having escaped the waistband of his briefs as he has me lying back on his bed. He is straddling me and as I look for signs of a tan line I see nothing.
I flip upright into a sitting position and as he kneels upright I hook an arm around his waist and he falls over onto his side on the bed. I want his dick so bad I'm shaking. Just as I'm about to engulf it into my mouth for the first tentative time Chris puts the breaks on, "Jon, stop. I'm ready for this, but are you?"
"Oh fuck yeah, Chris. You're too good to pass up on. I knew that the moment I saw you, and you're extremely nice to boot. I want to make you happy Chris. Let me?"
"You're so sweet Jon. I'd love for you to, I only wanted to make sure you were cool with it because of what you said earlier about not going here today."
"I wasn't comfortable with you then."
"And you are now?"
"Not really," I laugh.
Chris laughs back until I touch the tip of his beautiful tool with my tongue. Then he gasps. We're on our sides, our faces buried in each other's crotches. I can smell his soap, I can see the precum on his briefs. I can taste the smooth, clean flesh as it searches out the back of my mouth.
Chris slips my cargo's the rest of the way off and then grabs at the pouch of my 2xist sports briefs, slipping the pouch off to the side of my dick. I want to see and taste all of Chris so I try to slip his briefs off. They are Armani briefs, with a really nice ribbed pattern to them. But I am clumsy as usual so Chris raises his hips, slips them down to his knees, and then off. Again, he does so with grace. I grab them from his hand and use the soft material to rub the globes of his ass with as I try with my all to swallow Chris to the base. When a finger slips in between his cheeks I discover that he is entirely smooth. The only hair on his whole body is his short light golden blonde top, his eyelashes, and his trimmed eyebrows.
He touches me in a way indicating that he wants me to lift my hips up. I do as he motions for me to. Plop, my dick is now totally free from the underwear and he is slipping them down my legs and hooking them free of my feet. As he does so he bottoms out in my mouth and his sac is briefly directly under my nose. There is a slightly sweaty smell, and his legs are moist in the folds between them and his sac. As his attention starts to focus on my swollen member I leave his alone and start tonguing this newly exposed area around his ball sac. His moans and wild thrashing instantly tell me that I have found a good spot for him. My none is nearly in his bud ad he repositions his top leg to allow me maximum access. He is going wild, deep throating me and exploring my ass crack with a finger when I start to lick the area of skin directly behind his sac. I work this area alternately, while letting my tongue discover his bud in between, my hand jacking his dick all the while.
I don't think I am giving him near the pleasure that he is giving me when he warns me, "Step off Jon, I'm gonna blow! I'm about to cum!"
Like that bother's me! Duh! That's the whole idea, silly! So I continue on and suddenly my tongue is forced out of his bud forcefully and I get rewarded with a few warm splashes on my neck and chest. I was nearing orgasm myself when he pulled off to warn me, and then again when he reached orgasm and stopped his attention on my dick.
"Oh, man! Thank you, Jon!" He panted, "Are you close?"
"I was, but I've lost it." I inform him.
Chris twists me on my back in response and starts favouring me the way I had just done to him. I start jacking off as his tongue whips me back into the throws of ecstasy. He senses I am starting to get close so he stops and slides up my torso. Sucking up all of his load that he can off of me he returns to my bud and forces it and his tongue in as far as my body will allow. I am thrashing, my hips and legs are bucking but still after a few mini orgasms I can't climax. Chris's tongue is quickly replaced with not one but two wiggling fingers and his mouth takes me to the base again, resting his nose in my bush every time he bobs down on me. Fuck yeah! That does it.
"Oh Chris! I'm gonna cum!" I warn.
Chris backs off on the deep throating, keeping the tip of me still in his warm mouth and uses his free hand to jack me off while his other hand is double penetrating me and it's thumb is massaging the area behind my balls. It's the second time this morning I cum, and as Chris captures my seed I feel faint. Like a pro he slips his fingers out of me while I am still shooting so that I don't feel discomfort after. Once I'm done he slinks his now slick body up my equally sweaty body and presents my mouth with the gift he just captured. We make out for a little while, both swallowing my load. We then snuggle our now spent bodies together as we regain our breaths. Man, we smell, but what a smell! I think I could get used to him real easily.
Fumbling around Chris finds the swimmer's jock and the Speedo he'd previously offered me and says, "Let's go for a swim, Sexy."
As my euphoria fades, I've got mad butterflies in my stomach again. Ah fuck! What have I just done!
Sorry that this one took a lot longer to post. Thanks for continuing to read and for the encouraging feedback! I am trying to get to this when I can, as much as I can, time permitting. Life has just gotten very busy lately and with hope it will all settle down soon enough. ~Jake