This is a work of pure fiction, but based on the author's feelings, beliefs, and in some cases, experience. Come to think of it -- it might not be very pure either! There may be graphic sexual encounters at times between men, so if this offends you, you are invited to retreat. If you are too young or it is otherwise illegal for you to be reading this kind if story, shame on you for reading it - - please stop here. If not, - - ENJOY!
Cast of characters:
Tony diMarco -- yeah -- I am he!
Chapter 1
Well, where to start? Maybe with what prompted me to write about my story.
Two days ago, I returned from Laei, Oahu, Hawaii. A friend was married there. It may sound wonderful and exotic to you to travel to Oahu for a wedding but to me it's not that exotic. And though I was driven to come, it wasn't wonderful.
I came -- one of the few that were invited to the wedding -- all the way from Maui, where my family lives. So -- you see why it wasn't that exotic to me. It took place on the beach, in the shadow of the Mormon Temple. That in itself was ironic for me -- because you see -- those being married are not Mormon.
But - - I am!
Problem: That friend being married is the only person that I've been head over heels in love with. And believe it or not, Ben was in love with me too. It was I who broke up with him. It broke my heart on at least two levels. First, I was never so taken by a human being than I was with Ben. He was everything I ever wanted. I was devastated that I would probably never see him again. Then too, I knew that because of me -- he felt as bad or worse than I, and I know that he too wished he were dead, rather than bear the pain that we both were in. To hurt someone else that much was painful to my spirit.
I do think things happen for a reason. I also think that we don't always know the reason. I went into a deep depression after he left Hawaii, and went back home to California -- and that was BEFORE I broke up with him. I was so torn between three forces. There was my love for Ben -- arguably the most wonderful man on the planet.
Then there was my religion. More than that -- my beliefs -- in God, in Christ and in a plan that could lead me back to my Father in Heaven. Mormons believe that we lived with him before we came here, and by committing the sin of fornication, I may never get to see my Father in Heaven again. I truly believed that.
And lastly -- but obviously of great importance to me -- were my family. Being the oldest son, I felt a heavy responsibility to be an example to my little brothers and sister. I was under no misconception that anything I could do would make my brothers gay. But I also am aware that just by acting on my gay urges -- feelings if you will -- I was setting an example of rebelling against God, the church and my family.
A week after Ben returned home from visiting Hawaii with his friends, I wrote an email to tell him that I had changed my mind and would not be coming there to be with him -- and to love him for the rest of our lives -- as we had planned.
Can you believe anyone would say that in an email? I cried for three hours after I hit the send button. Then he called me. We cried together.
"Hello?"
"Tony." he said.
"I -- prayed you wouldn't call, Ben. And -- I hoped you would! Ben I -- I -- love you so much!"
"Tony -- a letter? You broke up with me -- in a letter?"
"I couldn't tell you that face to face -- or on the phone. It was the hardest thing in the world -- certainly the hardest I've ever done. I feel like -- like - " I couldn't go on. I broke down and started to blubber like a baby. "Oh, Ben, Oh Ben! I wish you were here! No I don't! But -- of course I do! I feel like I have killed both of us."
"I don't know what to say, Tony, except -- I'll wait." Ben told me. "I'll WAIT, Tony. I'll wait while you find out that your idiotic meetings don't work."
I had started to go to a group -- of guys like me -- that my bishop referred me to. Ben continued, "Yeah -- I feel like -- like - " it was obvious he was speaking out of anger until he got to that part. Then he stopped to cry. "Please don't do this, Baby." He pleaded with me. "I'll come back over there, if I have to. Please. I can't live like this -- without you." He begged.
"No -- you can't come." I said, "You will live. I will live. Ben, please just try to forget - "
Of course that was a stupid thing to say. I would never forget Ben -- and I knew he wouldn't forget me. Then he told me he felt like killing himself.
"Ben, please - " I cried -- and cried -- and cried. Then I continued, "Ben -- please don't say that."
"Of course I won't hurt myself, Baby," he said. "But that's how I feel. It's like part of me died already. I know we'll get over it, but right now -- all I can think of is that I want to die."
I could say nothing to rebut his pleas. I really could say nothing at all. "Beh -- Beh -- Beh -- Ben! I'll call you back." I hung up.
I buried my face in my pillow and sobbed for it seemed like hours -- but really was only a few minutes. I was interrupted when he called me back again.
"Ben -- I told you I would (SOB) - " I started.
"Just listen, Baby." he said. He seemed to be fighting with his emotions as much as I was. "I'll be okay -- I know I will. I know it hurts more than I ever thought anything could, but -- I know you have already gone through this."
You see why I love that man so much. Even in his pain, he was trying to see my pain too. He continued, "And I know that it will pass. I'll always love you -- and never forget you. But please don't ever think that I blame you, Baby. I may never understand your reasons, but -- I will get by. I will! And so will you. Please call or write when you can -- to tell me you're okay. Bye Baby. Bye, my sweet Tony."
I still could hardly breath, let alone talk. I finally was able to say, "Yeah -- I love you too. Bye -- bye -- bye, Beh -- Ben. Bye!"
I was sure that would be the last time I ever communicated with him. But I couldn't stand it. After crying for another seeming eternity -- most of the night -- I called him back one more time.
"Hello?" He answered
"I had to call you. Are you gonna be okay?" I asked
"I'm gonna be just fine." He said -- and it blew me away. It was as if he had slept off the heartache and was suddenly happy. How could that be?
"Huh?" I answered.
"Al is here." He said. "I hope you are okay."
"I'm not!" I said, feeling hurt once again p that he could get over me so fast. "Be glad you're not religious! Okay -- well, I just wanted to be sure you're okay. Bye."
"Bye, Tony."
I was appalled -- and hurt - at the difference in him. But after all -- it was I that had broken up with him. It was I who told him NOT to come back to Hawaii. It was I who was the fucking idiot!
Sorry, I don't talk like that, but it's how I felt -- how I still feel sometimes.
Ben married his best friend. Now I can see reasoning in that. What I didn't know, but found out later was that Ben and Al were in love before they ever came to Maui -- where I met them on a biking trek. Their problem was, they both were under a false impression. They thought Al was straight!
Once I broke up with Ben, Al admitted he was in love with Ben. I couldn't stand not ever talking to Ben again, so I wrote to him and called him occasionally. He told me what happened between them. I was happy for Ben, but felt guilty for the selfish thoughts I was having.
I stopped going to the gay Mormons group meetings, after I saw that none of them were ever going to be "cured" any more than I was. Then I called Ben one day, secretly hoping for something I cannot even write here, and he told me that he and Al were to be married.
I acted like I was happy for them.
"I want to come, of course." I heard myself saying.
"Oh, Tony -- are you sure?" Asked Ben.
He was far too nice to tell me I couldn't come, or that he was afraid I might mess up his -- their -- day. So he told me when and where it would be. So ironic!
I stayed at the back of the little group on the beach. Ben and Al made up their own vows. Ben even said he would love Al forever -- if god would let him. He should be a Mormon.
NO! I wouldn't wish this on anyone else! Being a gay Mormon, I mean. I'll tell you -- the Catholics and Jews don't have any monopoly on guilt!
I saw that both of their moms were crying as they said their vows, and their dads were barely able to control themselves -- which was more than I can say for myself!
I determined that day that I would never again bother these two men. It's hard enough for gay couples to stay committed, without some other guy pestering them.
I hugged them both -- being careful not to show any more ardor for Ben than Al -- and headed for the airport to catch the next plane home to Maui.
It was early afternoon when I got home. Mom greeted me with a sad smile. "Well, honey, do you think you can put him behind you now?"
"Yeah -- I think so Mom."
"Did you eat any lunch?" I shook my head. "Would you like me to - "
"Not right now, thanks."
Since I stopped going to the gay Mormon meetings, I had slumped deeper into despair. I went to my bedroom and closed and locked the door. I lay down and closed my eyes, imagining my first time in the shower with Ben. No -- not the very first time showering with him. But my very first time -- having anal sex with anyone -- in the shower at their condo. It was very vivid to me -- almost like it was happening again.
As I brought myself to my own climax with this vivid picture in my mind, I felt some degree of comfort. I fell asleep, feeling guilty for fantasizing once more about Ban while getting myself off.
I woke up later -- when I smelled dinner cooking. I was hungry after skipping lunch. "There's a young adult dance at the stake center, Honey." Said Mom. I gave her "the look". "You like some of the people there!" She said, defensively. I felt guilty for putting her in that position. My mom is one of the purest, most wonderful women God has ever created!
"I -- guess so." I said. And she was right. There were a few guys -- and girls that I liked and knew would be there -- and the young adults -- unlike many of their parents -- were not so hatefully against someone who is gay.
Jack is a huge Hawaiian guy -- one of the few who knows I am gay. Well, Hawaiians in general don't have a problem with anyone being gay. In their culture, it's just part of life. Some guys are gay. So even though there is a heavy population of native Hawaiians who are Mormons, they just don't display the animosity to gays that some others do.
And I have to say, I do feel a certain amount of safety at church dances. There are always a bunch of natives there, and they differ form many of the natives in their lack of hatred for haolis. Haolis are foreigners. It really means intruders to most native Hawaiians.
So -- I went to the dance. It had been months since I last went, and it was great to see some of my old friends. I had ostracized myself from my former friends after my mission. Several guys went on missions at the same time and I was close with all of them -- before I went.
But their missions were "the best time of my life". Mine was another time of feeling guilty. It was two years of being with another Mormon missionary -- Elder -- 24 hours a day. They say it's good practice for being married. You can't walk away from your companion because you have a fight. You have to stay there and work it out.
I didn't have many disagreements with my companions, but -- after they were long asleep, I often found myself fantasizing about them and jacking off -- which also is forbidden -- of course. More guilt, as you can imagine!
I walked into the dance and all eyes were on me. My old friends almost ran to meet me -- plus several others that I didn't know. Mormons are like that. A new face -- or an old one that may be perceived as less active in the church -- appeals to their missionary spirit.
Okay, I have to stop for a moment to tell you a couple things. You already know I am Tony. And if you read the cast of characters, you know my last name is diMarco. How Catholic can you get? But my great-grandparents came here from Italy -- because they heard about the restored gospel and joined the Mormon Church.
They were quite literally driven out of their village in northern Italy. They were on thin ice as it was. Most of those in town were light skinned and blond. But at least they were all Catholic. Now that Grandma and Grandpa diMarco were Mormons, they were not just ostracized from society, but threats were made on their lives. So much for the good will of Christians -- and in this case Catholics.
So -- they came to America -- where most Mormons were back in the 1930's. Of course they were met by more persecution when they got here. They came in via Ellis Island and in New York being a "Wop" was as bad as being black in Little Rock.
So -- they moved to Utah. At last they found asylum -- for themselves and for their two sons. My grandpa met Grandma Rose and they married and moved to California -- when many were going to find work during the Great Depression.
After his mission -- to Italy - my dad married my mom when he was 30 and she was 22, and they moved to Hawaii because of his job. I was born nine months after they were married. Even though our Italian blood has been watered down twice, I seem to have inherited all the Italian genes. But I'm 6'-1" tall. I got that from my grandmother's family.
Other than that, I have olive skin and deep set, round eyes. They are actually blue, but everyone sees them as black at first.
I walked in to the church gym where the dance was held. Robert, who went to Japan for his mission while I was sent to the Arizona Tucson mission, greeted me with an open smile and a warm hug. Then everyone I knew followed suit, hugging me and asking how I am -- which might have put off some, but I loved it. I knew these people loved me -- and I loved them..
Somewhat toward the back of this onslaught was a guy I didn't recognize -- but he looked familiar. "Do you remember me?" He said.
I looked up his 6'-6" frame to his baby face and said, cautiously, "You -- um -- look familiar."
"I'm Ben. We met one summer at scout camp." When he said he was Ben, I felt a fight or flight reaction -- thinking he somehow knew about me and my own Ben. Then I remembered who he was. When recognition came to my eyes, he stepped back a pace and suddenly looked embarrassed.
Ben's 4 years older than I am. We met at that scout camp and he showed me things I never knew about. I never knew why it was that my pajamas were messed up in the mornings sometimes. At 12, I had just started puberty. I was a little later than a few, but was still one of the first in my class to start getting "hair down there."
I knew this because we dressed down for P.E. every day in Junior high and high school. In the 7th grade, I was one of those who had ample hair down there. And believe me, I felt justified with my own peeking. I wasn't alone by any means.
That summer, I went to my first scout camp. That's where I met Ben. The first night of camp, he came and kicked out my tent mate -- sending him to sleep with his brother. "I can't sleep with that queer!" said Ben to me. Let his brother sleep with him. I think they both wet the bed~!"
So Ben was my new tent mate. Even though I was 12 and he was 16, he was maybe 1 1/2" shorter than I. I heard him breathing hard that first night. "Ben -- are you okay?" I said.
"Huh-huh-huh-Aaaaahhhh! oh yeah! I'm just fine." Later on that same night I heard him again, breathing hard and -- it sounded like -- hitting something. "Ben -- what're you doing?" I asked.
"Mind your own business and go back to sleep," he told me breathlessly. Again, he let out an "AAAhhhhh!" and loud breaths. I shined my flashlight on him. He had his hand on his dick and seemed to be milking it.
"What're you doin' Ben?"
"FUCK!" he said "What's it LOOK like I'm doing? Shut that fucking light off!" Ben is 4 years older than I, so -- I did as I was told.
After he was calmed down, he asked me, "Um -- Tony -- do you really not know what I was doing?"
"I -- uh -- think so." I said. "you were -- um -- mascatating?"
"Hahahaha! Your close, bud. I was jackin' off. You know -- masturbating. I'm sure you know all about that!"
"No." I said simply. I heard the bishop say something about it last week in young men's. But I didn't know what it was. But somehow I thought that was what you were doing."
"What did your bishop tell you about it?"
"Not much -- just not to do it." I immediately wished I hadn't said that. I thought he was going to beat me up. I added, "But he said most guys do it. He told us just not to think of girls if we did it."
"Wow!" Said Ben.
"What?" I asked.
"You have a very cool bishop! Hey -- so -- you've never done it?"
"NOooo!"
"It's not so bad." He said. You wanna do it?"
"Noooo!" I said again.
"What if I do it for you?"
"Huh?!!" I exclaimed.
"It's okay -- it won't hurt!"
He then came over to my side of the tent and reached into my pajamas and pulled out my penis. I didn't know why it was already hard -- but it was. Usually it only got like that when I had to pee -- in the morning.
"Mmmm! Nice -- for a 12 year old! And feel that hair. You got a cool bush kid!" It was dark, but I jumped when I felt his hot breath on my pubes. "It's okay, I won't bite -- tonight!"
He started to pull my skin up and down around my penis. I felt guilty, but it felt so good, I didn't even try to stop him. Before long I thought I was gonna die. It felt too good to be true. I felt something thick shoot out of my pee hole, and when it hit his hand, he kept stroking me and it got very slippery.
I started to make the same sounds he was making earlier, but louder. "SHhhh!" He said. "You're gonna wake up the bears!" "Tony -- we'll just keep this a secret -- only between you and me. Okay?"
I said okay, but he made me take a blood oath -- which to him meant that we promised each other that we wouldn't tell what we did, and we cut ourselves and put our cuts together.
The next night, Ben asked me to jack him off. I had been thinking about it all day, so when he asked me I said "Yess!" His 16-year-old dick was considerably longer and thicker than mine. It felt foreign in my hand -- but wonderful! I quickly jacked him until he spouted off like I did the night before. Well, I have to admit, there was a LOT more of the stuff!
We did that for the first four nights, when he asked if I'd mind if he jacked me off with his mouth. I said I didn't mind, but I asked him to try not to bite me. He bobbed and sucked and blew until I was cumming in his mouth. I again couldn't believe that this new thing felt so much better than when he did it with his hand. He never let me do that to him, but the last 2 nights he did a repeat performance on me.
We did another oath before we went home. He said it didn't need the blood -- we were already blood brothers.
And now, 9 years later, he stood towering over me, smiling shyly. "I think we need to talk!" I said. "Come outside."
As soon as we got out the door, I was all over him. Well, I didn't touch him, but I said, "Are you gay?"
"I -- erm -- I -- uh -- dunno!"
"You're a bad liar, Ben. "You ARE gay, Aren't you?" His head slowly -- almost imperceptibly nodded."
"So am I."
Tears immediately flooded his eyes. "I -- I -- made you gay, didn't I?" He said to the ground.
"What? Don't be stupid. You can't make anyone guy!" He looked around and saw that we were well camouflaged. He pulled me in to a warm kiss.
"I've worried about that week -- for the last 9 years, Tony! It's the only time I ever was with another guy. I wanted to be. I pretended to be mean to camouflage how I was really feeling. Then the mean me took over. After that week, I was terrified you would tell. Did you ever tell anyone?"
"No." I said quickly -- then said, "Oh! YES!"
"You did?" He sounded like a terrified child. "Who?"
"Another Ben. Don't worry, he's in California. He was my first lover."
"You -- you -- have had lovers?"
"N-not exactly. Ben was the first -- and only."
"What happened?" He said.
"I broke up with him." I said, sadly.
"I bet I know why. Guilt!"
"How did you know?" I exclaimed.
"Did you go on a mission?" He asked.
"Yeah -- Tucson. You?"
"No. I felt so guilty about what I did to you -- I found every reason to not go."
"I probably shouldn't have gone, either."
"That's bullcrap! You went and it was good -- wasn't it?"
"I guess." I said.
"Are you gonna let your night time activities screw up all your good memories?" Said Ben. I felt like he ripped out my subconscious and was reading it like a book. "Yeah, I thought so. Tony, we really do need to talk!"
"I think so." I said. "Where can we go? I still live at home."
"I don't!" Do you want to see any more people in there?"
"I think we better. They all know I'm gay. If I disappear with you, they'll be putting two and two together -- and maybe come up with 69!"
"I like the way you think, Tony!"
We went back in to the dance and -- well, danced -- with girls -- with groups. After awhile, we left separately and met at the 7-11 nearby.
When we got to Ben's house -- if you could call it that -- as soon as we got in the door, he stopped and just stood there. I looked up into his eyes. As if asking for permission, he tilted his head and turned his hands up. I stepped into his embrace. We both stood there, and sighed loud and long.
He was of course nearly a head taller than I, so when I felt wetness on my cheek, I knew it was his. I looked up. He unashamedly said, "It's been so long!" I nodded. "I thought you were such a cool little kid back then. And cute!" I nodded again, wide-eyed. And you -- weren't even thinking about me -- were you?"
"I'm sorry, Ben. I was lost - "
"Thinking about your other Ben?"
"Sorry!" I repeated.
"It's okay. I understand. I too went back to my last time."
"Who was that?" I asked.
He chuckled and smirked. "Sorry!" he parroted back at me.
"Oh no! It wasn't!"
"It was." He answered. "It was you. Tony, my life went officially on hold after I violated the cute little boy -- who changed my life."
"Omigosh! I cried. "Oh, Ben, I'm so sorry!"
"You're sorry?" he said. "I screwed up your mission and maybe was the cause of you being gay, and you say that - "
"No! STOP!" I said. "You didn't make me gay -- OR ruin my mission! I was gay before you, and just because you taught me to jack off -- that's nothing. I would have discovered it by myself soon enough."
"Do you really mean that? I mean do you really THINK that?"
"I don't just think it. I know it's true."
He pulled me in closer and sighed again. "Oh thank you! Thank you, Tony. It's maybe gonna take awhile to process, but you have saved my life!" Said Ben.
I craned my neck and stood on my tip-toes and pecked him on the lips. He came back at me like I hoped. I closed my eyes and kissed Ben with all my might. I think he guessed which Ben I was kissing, but he was nice enough not to say it.
"Ben -- I have an early night tonight. Getting up at 12:30 to go to work."
"What? What do you do?"
"Biking Down Haleakala. Sunrise tomorrow."
"Maybe we can ride it together sometime." He said. "Or do you get your fill with your tours."
"No, I'd love to go sometime. I get tired of going at a snail's pace. Listen, here's my cell number. Call me -- gotta go!"
"Take it easy, Baby." He said.
I about crapped my pants when he said that. He couldn't EVEN know. This time when I kissed him, I was kissing the Ben I was holding. And it was sweet and chaste.
"Bye, Ben."
I went to sleep thinking about -- and comparing -- Bens. I tried to jack off -- but it was too difficult and I was too tired. I couldn't concentrate on either Ben, but kept seeing them change into each other. I gave up and just closed my eyes and willed myself to sleep. Their forms floated over me like smoke.
I had a clear and bright memory of what California-Ben's body was like -- his thinness, his slightly larger than usual dick. I tried to will it away, but in my near-sleep, it was persistent. Then he changed to Maui-Ben -- and his dick grew in proportion to his body. Maui-Ben was at least 5 -- 6" taller and so his manhood was that much longer. Not 5 -- 6", but proportionally. So it fairly hung down to his knees. Dreams!
I woke up pumping myself wildly, as the alarm clock rang. I can only remember one thing -- that gargantuan penis that my dream had placed on Maui-Ben. And the alarm was like the winning bell at the finish line -- or something. I felt like I won -- for a moment. Then the guilt set in. When was I going to be able to do that without punishing myself?
Notes. What do you think? If I get a few letters, I'll keep writing. I think this medium deserves to know what some of us go through. Address any correspondence to Steve at stevethomas535@hotmail.com. Thanks and love, Steve