This story is a work of fiction and any resemblances to any person or written works are purely coincidental. The author retains all rights to the work, and requests that in any use of this material that my rights are respected. Please do not copy or use this story in any manner without my permission. It does contain consensual sex between young men. You've found this site like the rest of us so the assumption is that material of this nature does not offend you. If it does, or it is illegal for you to view this content for whatever the reason please just keep on passing by.
Without apology, my intention was to focus more on the feelings and emotions of the relationship rather than the sex. In the natural course of events as sex developed I have tried instead to capture the mental aspects rather than the graphic details.
I do however apologize that Part 6 has been so long in posting, thanks to those that have stuck with me!
As always, please read of your own free will and direct any positive comments, constructive criticism or general feedback to: mission_hockey_4_life@hotmail.com.
Sleep was a long time coming for me that same night of my giving Jon his first blow job. Jon's room is what would have been the mud room between the garage and the laundry room, and just off of the kitchen in the cozy two story house. It only fits his twin (single) bed and shelves in each of the four corners that serve as everything from a dresser to a display for his few CD's and books and other keepsakes. His bed is directly on the floor, a box spring and a mattress, no frame or headboard. For lighting there is a wall mounted light that plugs into an extension chord running from an outlet in the laundry room, and a yellow triangular waxed cardboard Ikea lamp that gives off the faintest of light. There isn't even an alarm clock, or radio, he uses his Timex watch for that. An after thought addition by some previous owner, it's an odd room for sure. There's a door on each of the four walls; one from the laundry room, another second front entrance, an entrance to the car port, and the fourth, a doorway to the back yard. There are no windows, and the same linoleum that starts in the kitchen extends into it through the laundry room. Although it neither has heating nor cooling available in it if needed, the benefit to his room was that with the three doors nailed shut and blocked by his bed, the room was privately nestled where there wasn't a floor directly above it like the rest of the house. Upstairs in the actual house there were two bedrooms; his mothers, and one that Candace and Lacey shared. His sister Deanna had turned the dining room into her bedroom, so Jon's privacy was only shot on the rare nights that she wasn't at her boyfriends. Therefore once in his room we had a degree of seclusion and privacy.
We'd fully dressed again outside, for fear of a chance meeting with Jon's mother or one of his sisters. It makes no sense really that we did so, we had just skinny dipped and given each other blow jobs in the nude, and outside in his back yard to boot! Still as brave as we had just been we turtled and covered up fully. Jon had a thing for wearing my underwear, and put my smaller ones on. I was finally into a men's small, somewhat big on me but it was an ego booster! However my grey Hanes were smaller than Jon's mediums and defined his bulge quite flatteringly. His pants did too, come to think of it. His legs are quite lithe and sinewy for not being very athletically inclined. They were muscular enough and defined like a soccer player but neither bulky or flabby, nor thin like toothpicks. I must say that I felt a tinge of pride that those creamy-bronze legs, lightly covered with fine blonde hair were mine. Well they weren't actually mine, but I was the one that got exclusive rights to them, right? After I was done admiring his bulge, first in my underwear and then covered by his black khaki work pants, Jon led me inside. Creeping inside as quietly as possible and sneaking into Jon's room the clothes were coming off the instant he had slowly, quietly closed his door fully. Matching each other item for item, we did a little striptease. No dancing or anything like that, we would remove something and then admire the part of each other that it exposed. Still standing, down to our underwear and socks again we couldn't contain our teenage hormones. It has been less than 5 minutes since I had ejaculated in Jon's mouth but we were making out again, and groping each others stiffening dicks again. Sitting down on the edge of Jon's bed we undressed each other from there. One sock each, then the other, and Jon stopped to kiss the tops of each of my feet after removing a sock. And after removing his underwear from my body he kissed my very aroused dick. I felt bad because I really wasn't returning the favors as he did this.
We fooled around in his bed, playing with each other and exploring each others bodies fully and completely. In the darkness of his room we slithered like snakes all over each other. My hands got to explore his whole body for the first time; boldly for me, yet still quite cautiously. We mock wrestled, Jon putting up no fight that night so that he could be dominated by me. I guess I'm an `ass man'; I've always loved his butt. It was like a magnet pulling my hands to his sweet cheeks. As he lay blissfully naked, sprawled out on his stomach on his messy, unmade bed I began pawing and caressing his butt, and massaged it for a really long time. It was a hot night, and without air conditioning we were both slightly on the sweaty side. I began to slide my index finger up and down his smooth and slippery crack. I wasn't about to rim him, but I did start kissing the damp small of his back; very cautiously, and made certain that I my lips and tongue were clearly above his butt. I mean I'd heard of rimming, but honestly never wanted to be on either end of that equation. I just felt that it was too personal a thing to do. Eventually if there was to be sex I know that it would require penetration there, but again, to put my tongue on his rosebud or have his tongue on mine was degrading in my mind. I was amazed by the reaction I was getting from kneading his cheeks and planting butterfly kisses on his back, and running my tongue up the slight crevice that marked his spine. Encouraged by his positive reaction I wanted to further please him. Taking all of my courage I bunched the fingers of my right hand together and playfully pressed against his rosebud. Not that I wasn't enjoying it so long as I didn't think how personally I was touching my lover, possibly overstepping my bounds. Still, my fingers had instinctively found their way to his bud in an attempt to give him the most pleasure I could. After pressing the full force of my four bunched together fingers against him, I began to play with just one finger, circling his bud and teasingly pushing against it. Eventually I could see that he had loosened up, and I started to ever so slightly penetrate him. This put him in a state of euphoria. I could tell that I was having a magical effect on his body by the way he was moving under me, starting to grind the mound of a duvet beneath him, and whispering my name and that he loved me. Because of this, and only this, I didn't retreat and stop the attention on his rosebud. He suppressed most of his sounds, just the occasional gasp when I really hit a good spot I guess. Still, I wasn't brave enough to actually penetrate him anything more than like half a fingernail. I know that's how guys have sex, but again just like rimming, where thoughts of my dick in him were perversely dirty yet unbelievably mesmerizing, thoughts of my finger in him were equally just as gross.
It had been a long day for Jon. For about a year he had worked Saturdays at the music store in the mall. This day he was beat, starting at 8:30 at the music store and rushing from his shift there just in time for his shift at the restaurant. Justifiably so, he was really tired. Still kissing his back, his bud getting the attention of my one exploring hand, with my other hand gently rubbing the back of his neck, he drifted off to sleep on me. Just seeing him sleep with a smile still on his beautiful face made me cry slightly, I was so overcome with a tornado of emotions. I was incredibly happy that I had him; that we had met and were what we were to each other. I was fiercely proud that I had brought him some level of pleasure. I was proud of him. I was feeling a wave of love for him that I didn't quite know how to handle, it made me feel so good that It was hard to contain and keep secret. I worried that this was too good to last and something would happen between us. Or that we'd get discovered by the wrong people. The wrong people ultimately being anyone. I slipped my boxer briefs back on. It was a chore pulling the duvet out from under Jon, but once I had it free I covered us up, to our waists because despite the heat I was still bashful. I know being the only man in the house Jon was afforded full privacy behind his closed door, but still, just imagine if his Mom or sisters saw us together naked in his bed! Unlike at my place I think there would be a lot more questioning along the sexuality lines than the pot smoking ones. Somewhat safely hidden behind the closed door and under his duvet I risked resuming my gentle massaging of his back and butt for a while, ecstatic to be in bed with him. Eventually I focused mostly on gently kissing his neck and cheek and forehead not buried in his pillow. Long after he had drifted off on me I snuggled up to him, holding him until I too fell asleep.
It wasn't an everyday thing that we fooled around, heck, we sometimes still went more than a week between stolen kisses. Yet spurred on by our recent advancements, the next week we did the same thing more or less. It was the Thursday before Labor Day Weekend, down to a few days before school was starting again for a new year. We left work, took the busses home and then smoked up all the way from the bus stop to his house. Again we skinny dipped in his aging pool and made out under the awning on his back deck, jerked each other off a bit and then got dressed and snuck inside to his room. Having only worked that one job that day, this time Jon was awake and alert. We repeated the events of the previous weekend, but this time Jon was more into it. We started undressing each other. As passive as Jon is when we are out together in public, or in any social setting he may find himself for that matter, he has usually been the aggressor when we get to fooling around. I only had his work shirt off and undershirt un-tucked when he was way past that, opening the fly of my pants to discover that I was free-balling. Yeah, not my thing at the time, I hate the chaffing and get too many woodies from the rubbing. But I won't wear something twice, and since my lazy ass hadn't gotten around to doing laundry it was my only option after my shower when hurrying to get to work. His excitement level rose dramatically. I guess that this detail had eluded him earlier in his back yard. Jon pushed me onto his bed, then forced me to lay down on my back. He straddled me, the bulge in his pants prominently on display in front of me. Slowly, gently, he started grinding his bulge against my dick. I winced every time I felt the zipper of his khaki's grind against my dick, and so fumbled with his belt, button and zipper while he attempted to give me a hickey on my chest, just below my neckline. His mission proudly accomplished, once he was satisfied with the red mark on my chest he rolled off of me and shucked his pants and Haynes in one smooth motion. Keeping his tank top on, we then continued the hand jobs from outside. Jon then went down on me a bit and we made out some more. We were blue balling each other, stopping the arousal when we sensing that the other was close to climaxing. Eventually as it would probably have been getting light out Jon showed me how he puts the neck of a wine bottle in his butt and jerks off, caressing the muscle behind his sac with his free fingers. Laying there on his back with the bottle in him, his cheeks visibly blushing even in the warm glow of the dim light, he told me for the first time that he wanted to sit on my dick.
"Daniel?"
"Yeah?"
"Can I ask you something?"
Of course he could, we both knew that nothing was off limits. It was our agreement that we would be open and honest about any thing and everything. Still, as much as we were at each other's mercy that way, we were true to each other. That's what counted most. Sure, there were apprehensions, but is that any different just because we were two gay teenagers guarding each other's deepest darkest secret than any other lovers I ask?
I did feel nervous at the question but tried to mask it with somewhat sarcastic bravado, "No! .Of course. You know can ask me anything."
"Daniel, will you love me?" Jon asked of me, to my mild confusion.
Not interpreting his subtle offer I replied, "Of course I will. Heck, I do! I love you Jon. Why?"
"No, can you love me, like make love to me? Can I please sit on you, have you inside me?" We called it that; loving each other, not fucking or anything similarly degrading.
"Oh." I said at first, the realization hitting me of what he was asking, and stunned by his offering himself to me. Not that it came as a huge surprise, we both knew in one way or another that we were headed to this moment for some time. "Wow, Jon. Ummm.What can I say. I love you. I'll try if you want me to, if you think you're ready. I hope I'm O.K."
He quietly assured me he was ready for it, more as a nod of his head as we locked eye contact than any thing vocalized. He did whisper, "Daniel, I think you'll be way more than just O.K. I know it."
I really, really wanted to try it, like all teenagers I'd wanted to have sex for the first time so badly. Not just that, but Jon had become my world, my sun, my moon and stars. He had taken all parts of my virginity so far; of course I wanted to give all that remained to him and only him! As I lay spread-eagle on his bed Jon put a condom on me that he had taken from a keepsake box on his top shelf above the head of his bed and lubed it up with some hand lotion. Kneeling over me and pulling the duvet up over his shoulders, we passionately kissed again as Jon's hand found my throbbing dick. We were almost belly to belly, our lips sealed together. He deftly moved my dick around, massaging his bud with it and making my body go crazy at the same time. He made numerous attempts to have his body accept my intrusion. His eyes rolled this way and that as he repeatedly tried to find courage and the right angle. Then it was time, finally achieving penetration I could still feel the tightness of being ever so slightly inside of his body when he removed his hand from my sheathed dick. Arching his head and neck back, in one quick sitting up motion Jon broke our kiss and had me completely inside him. OH MAN! His eyes fluttered and his butt started clenching as soon as I was in him. I could see shock, pain, and fear on his face. At first he just sat that way. He had tears in the corners of his eyes and I could feel his legs quivering against my hips. He then thrust up and down on me maybe a dozen times and promptly, forcefully, shot his load all over me. I didn't get it in my eyes or my hair, or even in my mouth. It mostly pooled on my stomach, with some spraying up to and on my neck and chest. His butt clenched real tight as he came, and instantly because of this sensation I shot a load inside him in new record time! It was for sure my most intense orgasm ever. Still, it wasn't anything great like a porno scene, the actual intercourse lasted like 30 seconds, tops. Jon wanted to do me up the butt then too, but I wasn't ready for that just then. But this was our first anal experience, so to us it was special. Still inside my love, I stayed hard. With tears still welling in the corners of his eyes Jon leaned forward and we passionately made out this way for a while.
Breaking the kiss, laughing at himself softly he wiped the tears away, whispering to me, "I must be fucked. I've wanted this so bad and for so long, Daniel I don't know why I'm crying."
"It's O.K. Jon. I love you too, babe."
"Thank you, Daniel. My Timon. Thank you for this."
"No, thank you Jon. My love."
"Do you ever think that you can make yourself sick, just wanting something so badly? Not sick like throwing up sick, or even like fucked in the head sick, just sorta like you don't feel quite right without it sick?"
If I was a little puzzled by the timing of our whispered conversation I did completely understood where Jon was coming from, however. And still, playing devil's advocate in my mine I worried, was he hesitant now that we had gone past the point of no return? Was he regretting doing this? Was it me; was he regretting doing this with me? But still talking, he went on, at one point quoting "The Flame", a Cheap Trick song. I had to play the words through my head for days until I could remember the song name and who sings it.
"I've wanted you for so long, I've wanted this for so long. Not really like physically you inside me, more emotionally you inside me. These tears are for that Daniel. This is forever, you know? You'll always be in me now, always be with me.
`I'm going crazy, I'm losing sleep. I'm in too far, I'm in way too deep over you. You'll always be the one. You were the first, you'll be the last.
Wherever you go, I'll be with you. Whatever you want, I'll give it to you. Whenever you need someone to lay your heart and head upon, Remember: after the fire, after all the rain, I will be the flame, I will be the flame.'
I love you Daniel, forever and always."
I could tell by the way he was talking to me that he had put considerable thought into what he said, probably rehearsed it more times than I could even guess. Being the emotional basket case that I know I am, I shared tears with Jon. He was right there on me, I was physically connected to him, but still my heart cried in yearning for him. After using his gitch to wipe my chest and stomach dry, together we cried tears of happiness, release, whatever, as we drifted off to sleep in each other's arms in his bed.
Into the afternoon on that day when we had had sex for the first time we went to the mall once we'd finally stirred from our blissful visit in each other's arms to the sandman. We had the excuse of last minute school shopping to go there with. There was definitely an awkwardness between us that day and for a few after it, we made tons of eye contact for emotional reassurance, and even a couple hand squeezes when no one was around. That afternoon especially we had a hard time finding our voices around each other. In the Disney Store we ended up buying each other stuffed animals. I got Jon a Tigger because I'd discovered over time that he loves Tigger, and he got me a Timon because that guy makes me laugh so much and that was the first movie we ever cuddled to. So we had something from each other to sleep with when we couldn't sleep with each other.
Of course my mom didn't take too well to me sleeping with a stuffed animal. One morning that I overslept through my alarm a bit during that first week of the school year she found me unconsciously sniffing the stuffed weasel after she woke me.
A day or so later she asked me, "Who's cologne is on that doll? You didn't waste any of you school money on Cologne did you? You did give me all of the receipts?"
I pretended like I didn't know what she was talking about but it was kinda pointless because I didn't own any cologne and I selfishly had doused Timon in Jon's Polo Sport, "What are you talking about? I don't know why it smells like Cologne, maybe it's from a tester I used at the mall or something."
She persisted, "Daniel Rice, you did give me all of the receipts?"
"Yes." And I had, except for Tigger, but that was out of tip money that she didn't know about anyhow.
She was unrelenting in her scathing line of questioning. I think it was still more the lingering effects of Jim Beam or his friend Yukon Jack asking me, "Then where's the one for that doll? Why do you have a doll anyway, did a girl give it to you? Or did your boyfriend Jon give it to you?"
I didn't answer.
"Daniel! You answer me young man. What are you, a queer?" Well there it was, the inevitable question. My heart sank.
"No." I croaked, hardly more than a whisper, then more vehemently to protect myself shot back words that stung me more than her question, words I deeply regretted inside saying, "Have you ever looked in my room, you cow? Have you ever seen all of my awards for sports? Do you think I could do any of that if I was a fudge packer? Fuck you, bitch!"
She didn't say anything more but she threw out Timon on me, and since school started that September she'd started getting heavily on my case if I had a girlfriend and who I thought was cute and shit like that.
In my junior year (Grade 11) now I have faced so much crap. First I got taken off the starting line for the third game of the football season. Despite keeping up with practices through the summer I guess being a small running back had worked for me before, but in game situations my legs just weren't fast enough to compensate for the longer strides of the bigger guys anymore. In the first two games I was always at the right place just a fraction too late. Mom and Arnie were both there for that game when I got pulled, as well as Jon with Neil and Tim. I couldn't help it; I cried a lot that night. I was really bummed about that. Mom was all like good, more time to study and chase skirts. What a bitch she was to me, not that I hadn't learned that that was the best I could expect from her. But other than Jon, football was my only true passion in life. Arnie was the one who was actually really sympathetic to me while mom just crowed. He tried to help me find a new interest, somewhat halfheartedly, but still it was more than my mom cared to do. He took me to a few Houston Astro's games and bought me a new ball glove so that I could play with the guys that played baseball. I knew the sport, how to play and hit, I just didn't care for it like football. Eventually he just told me that if I want it bad enough Coach wasn't going to be able to ignore me forever.
Then by Hallowe'en Coach had taken me out of games completely and only had me practicing. I guess he didn't have the heart to fully rip mine out and take football completely away from me. Everyone said for me to stick with it, when I grow some more I'll kick ass and all that good stuff. You know humor the little guy, right? Then one day right before Thanksgiving I got accidentally clipped while running a play, but it was so hard and I twisted the wrong way that I strained my knee, and broke my fibula (one of two bones in the calf). I was in the hospital for like three days because I also got a concussion and they wanted to do all sorts of tests and stuff on me. I was told that my bones were still soft like all kids are before they hit their teenage years, and I would have to be a lot more careful. I got this real dopey cast from knee to toes like you see on silly skiing accident or car insurance commercials. All through this Jon helped me out at school as well as Neil and Tim, carrying my books for me and stuff. Michael treated me like I had the plague or something. I had to switch out of gym class to a stupid computer class that semester. Then in like 5 weeks when that was almost healed and I had a soft cast on I lost my balance going down stairs at school, falling down the last 3 or 4. This time around I fractured my tibia (the other bone in the same calf), dislocated my patella (kneecap), strained my wrist and deeply bruised my forearm. I had to have an operation on my knee to get the patella put back into place. I spent the first part of Christmas holiday in the hospital. It wasn't until Valentine's day that I was close to fully healed. I also had a huge growth spurt during all of this and am now 4' 9" which is taller than my mom and I am almost now 6" where it counts!
Of course with my injured leg Jon has become a horny top, and I have discovered that I am a bottom! The first night home from the hospital after Thanksgiving Jon had stayed over because I was convincingly whiney enough. I think mom might have been catching on to the idea that Jon and I are lovers. But I told her I needed someone's help and I for sure wasn't having her give me a shower or assist me going to the bathroom and Arnie too was all for the idea because he said that he was through wiping kid's asses for them the day Todd was potty trained. Jon ended up staying over a lot. On two of those nights we very quickly and quietly had sex after I had a shower. The actual sex was sort of your get in, get it on, get off, and get out 5 minute sessions. Even then it was when we were absolutely certain that we would not get caught, even though the door was locked to my room and no one else was home! Although at first I didn't want or like Jon's man-meat in me I got used to it easily and actually longed for the next time when he would fill me with his dick, for the closeness it made me feel to him.
And yet I have to say though that the first time I bottomed was magic. I really can't say why, but it had been a while obviously since we had built up the courage to have sex our first (and only other) time. I was laying on my stomach after shucking my shorts and soft cast and Jon started to massage my leg for me. His hand moved up steadily until his fingers were caressing my butt cheeks more than anything and his fingers kept slipping into the crack of my butt. Next thing I know he is prodding my bud and his finger slipped in so easily, despite how tense I think I was. It felt kinda good, kinda bad. My dick standing at attention I told him I better have my shower before anyone got home. We had a quick shower together, with Jon spending considerable time and attention on my butt. After toweling dry and returning to my room he asked if he could love me and I said what the hell. Actually I acknowledged that I'd love for him to make love to me. He laid me down on my bed and pushed my legs towards my chest. I wrapped my arms around them and then he went to work fingering me again and alternately jacking me off while licking my balls and then sucking my dick. A few times he ventured his tongue down to my rosebud, spending a little more time there each pass. I felt strange having him do this to me. Soon he had one finger and then 2 fingers inside me. This I will say felt all good, no shame or pain whatsoever, only pleasure. After struggling to get a condom on his beautiful appendage he lubed me up really good, and gently slid his now 6"+ rod just past his head into me in one thrust and then stopped. OH MAN! At first I thought the pain was going to split me apart! He stayed in me though, motionless as I waited for the pain to subside. It didn't at first until I started wiggling. I didn't want to chicken out on him, I didn't want to offend or hurt him, or make him not want me.
Lying, I encouraged him, "Oh Jon. You feel so good. (The lie.) Hurry up and get all the way inside me. I want you so badly."
What I really wanted was to pleasure him and get it over with as soon as possible. And with the green light then his shoulders rolled my legs further towards me, my knees on either side of my head as he bottomed out in me and his dick hit my g.
Sweetly he checked, "Are you O.K.? Do you want me to stop?"
Yes, stop, your huge dick is tearing my small hole apart. That's what I was thinking, but instead offered him affirmation, "Oh Jon. I love you so much. I want you so badly. You feel so amazing. Please Jon, love me."
Hitting my g did sorta counter the splitting pain, and once Jon started pumping to my surprise I actually was like man, this feels pretty good for a while. He lasted a long time, at least a lot longer than I had inside him. He was at least 2 minutes inside me to the point that I was starting to get really uncomfortable again when he finally sucked in a lot of air, pushed forcefully forward and then grunted in ecstasy as his body shuddered and he released himself in me. To be fully honest though, it never felt great that time, or even the next. But I never said so, and fully intended to continue to bottom Jon because I didn't want to upset or offend him: I love him and wanted him so bad. This sorta confused me a lot, but I reasoned that he's what my heart desired and I was willing to sacrifice for him. I say that first time was magic because that was it. We had given each other everything we have to offer emotionally, spiritually and now physically. He stayed inside me and played his fingers along my choda, between my balls and bud, giving me intense pleasure while I finished myself off. When he wasn't moving inside me, just there, I actually liked the feeling as all the pain had subsided. Like I said it was a five minute slam, bam, thank you man between his entering me and my getting off. It wasn't hot steamy sex, it was pretty un-coordinated, but it was the solidification of every feeling we had and the last way to express it to each other. As I was cumming Jon withdrew from me. We kissed for as long as we dared before he wiped me down and I put my Joe Boxer pajama pants on and he put his Haynes on and opened the door and crashed in Todd's bed.
Yeah, that was another thing, since the pot party at the beginning of the summer I wasn't allowed to have my door closed when I went to bed, and not at all when Jon was over. But really, who was my mom kidding with that; I was home alone more than not anyhow. Somewhere between Thanksgiving and Christmas that rule was mostly forgotten. Some nights mom probably didn't even know whether Jon was over or not. But getting back to the night I bottomed for the first time; that night Jon and I shared the remaining vestiges of our innocence with each other and only each other. That was it, in every way except self sex, we had now completely and exclusively given each other the full extent of our own virginities. We had almost decided to forgo condoms because before each other we were both total virgins and without them it was easier for us to hide our sex, but we used them anyhow. Don't get me wrong here, we don't fuck like bunnies. Try planning a chance to get some sweet ass with the chance of Arnie and my mom around and with Jon's mom and his sisters. We've done it a whopping total of three times now since last summer. Yeah, you gotta be careful.
Jon had bought me another Timon when I was in the hospital at Christmas time and mom let me keep that one. Haha, that's probably because I never let her see him! But a few nights Jon and I actually chanced sleeping together instead for a while rather than with the stuffed animals we'd exchanged. We'd set his watch alarm so that he could get back to Todd's bed before mom or Arnie got up.
Anyhow, the day I got out of the hospital the second time Arnie got Jon and I both the last two puppies from one of his mechanic that was having a hard time getting rid of the pups. I guess the guy was a breeder, and had a registered rottweiler that got knocked up by an unregistered one and the guy couldn't sell then for any good money. Jon named his boy Bandit. Hahaha, try training a big-ass dog on crutches with a wrist brace! Stop, sit, heal.yeah right you and what army are gonna make me, how about YOU sit, broken boy???? So Arnie has been training Rocky and has me help so that he will listen to my voice too. Mom doesn't like Rocky at all, but I think Arnie really does; hell, he's even helping Jon with Bandit. Mom was pissed with Arnie and swore that I had to get rid of Rocky, but Arnie shot her down. That was the first time I ever heard mom and Arnie argue about me; Arnie matter of factly told mom that I'm sure as hell no sissy, but if I am going to be a little guy, I better at least have a big dog with a big bite or a gun. Mom reluctantly settled for Rocky. But what a bitch, I was the biggest jock in school despite being the little guy and she there she was calling me a sissy all the same.
One thing that everyone is noticing about me now as I've grown some is that my voice hasn't deepened a whole lot. Some people even come out and tell me to my face that I sound kinda faggy. Put that with the fact that I am like hairless and have the delicate gay boy look to me and straight people just assume more often than not that I'm a homo behind my back. I mean sure, of course I am, but how do they fuckin know for sure? Were they there anytime Jon and I have ever done anything remotely sexual or boyfriend like? Ixnay, it's never happened. There's only ever been one slip up between Jon and I, we are so careful because we are so afraid, and we get scared so many times that we don't often even do anything anyhow.
As for that slip up, at school one day near the end of January Jon was helping me and we accidentally held hands in the hallway. Not like holding my boyfriends hands kinda holding hands, it was like he was handing me something and our fingers accidentally momentarily entwined. But we all know what high school rumors and kids are like. Poof, just like that because one girl saw the slip and had a big mouth we were pointed out as fags by like everyone, even minor niners. Even so, that shit died down quickly because people didn't really think it of us, it's high school after all and they just needed some hot gossip. That, and unlike me, Jon doesn't look or sound gay at all. As for me, I think that people put my soft voice with my small size and good looks and think I am delicate. Being delicate is as good as being a fag in most people's minds. Still, I tell them what about Mike Tyson, my voice is deeper than that guys! Then they say stuff like well look at him, he's the toughest guy in the world. I then flex and say I'll be him someday. Like fuck, I have pecks, I have abs, I have decent tennis balls for biceps. Not all that impressive you might say, but in proportion to my body if I didn't look like a pretty boy in the face and was taller people would think I'm built.
The only people that for sure knew I'm gay were Todd and Coach, and both have been real cool to me, not jerks. I did get picked on because of my size, but because I was so close friends with a lot of the football guys I just have to tell my friend Train and he'll just stare at the person for me and they totally back off. Train is huge and built just like the NFL linemen. In school no one messes with him because he is way tougher off the football field than on, and he's getting mad-scouted by big name colleges right now so it tells you he's good on the field. Man, Train is 6'4" and I am like at eye level with the nipples on his pecks. He's totally plated with muscles, like the wrestler Scott Steiner, and with abs too! But he's cool too, he liked me for my determination and even though we all know I'm just too small now he didn't forget about me. But man oh man, I thought that my life was gonna be over on that day when Jon and I slipped up. But when the shit started about Jon and I being fags Train helped me out and was like spreading some bullshit story about some chick he caught us tag team banging at a party. He even started my locker room nick-name "Half Way", because nearing 17 years of age now I am still so short that it sometimes looks like my boner reaches like half way up my torso! It does pass my belly button and reach half way between that and my nipples.
And so the only thing Train didn't know, or at least I think he didn't know, was that at that Hollowe'en party that he cited, he was too drunk to realize that the "girl" Jon and I were banging wasn't anywhere to be seen! Or maybe he was just being a friend and protecting me anyhow. Not that Jon and I were having sex at that party though or even glancing at each other like we wanted to; we aren't near stupid enough to ever try that shit. The party was at my friend Tania's. Tania and I go back to grade 2 so we are really pretty close. Jon and I just passed out on the same bed like we've done before. Michael was there too, on a throw rug on the floor because the bed was too small for three passed out guys. And hell no, there was no girl in the room with us that we were double teaming on like Train thought or said, and the only reason he even got to see my dick that night was because I had passed out and Michael thought it would be funny to take my clothes all off me and hide them in a freezer. You know, Trick or Treat! I guess what Train saw my exposed morning wood or my drunk dick. (Yeah, I get bad boners when I drink a lot.)
So long story short, Train shut people up for me about the gay shit and Jon and I holding hands saying that even if it were true that we held hands momentarily it'd be because I lost my balance or something. No one bothered to argue him. Part of me wanted him to say who cares if we are fags, they still have to deal with him if they have a problem. The wiser part of me didn't really hope that he'd imply that I was a fag, especially not knowing how even he'd react. As my first and last line of physical defense I needed him fully on my side. Still my mind played out different scenarios.
The bigger rumor that caught on though was through the locker room that my dick was huge. I could definitely handle people talking about that, but of course it came with the jeers that I looked like a 12 year old kid too. I guess you take the good with the bad.