Just an idea for a story stemming from some of the people I know in "real" life. More or less based on actual events, but names changed (courteously respecting privacy).
This is more of a love based story than a down and dirty explicit fucking. If you're looking for a story to shoot to, you're wasting your time.
E-mail me with comments or suggestions if you want me to continue. Or just to talk, I'm cool with that too. 'I don't bite. Unless you want me to'
gking0301@aol.com
If you're under 18, you know you shouldn't be reading this. Not an excess of explicit sex in this story, but you know what I mean
PERFECTION (1)
"Can you fucking believe them?"
We were standing outside the school on the steep stone steps. Jason was rambling as usual and I was doing my best to tune him out. "Huh?"
"God Allan, look at them. I mean, can you get your tounge further down someone's throat?" He spit on the ground in contempt. "Mr and Mrs Barbie should go play tonsil hockey somewhere else so regular people don't have to be repulsed."
I rolled my eyes and clicked my tounge stud against the roof of my mouth. "Just because you can't get any doesn't mean you're a better person Jas," I said keeping his profile in the corner of my eye. "God, just because you have a two inch dick doesn't give you license to keep other people from having a good time."
"Two inch dick? Two inch fucking dick? If anybody has the two inch dick, it's you." Jason was pissed, but smiling. Jason pissed and smiling is okay. Jason pissed and not smiling is very, very bad.
"Whoa there buddy, take some anger management lessons. I'm sure your dick is reasonably long just like mine," I said soothingly. "Hey, I was going to ask you earlier if you liked my new haircut?"
"It's brown and short," he said dully he said frowning. "What's there not to like? You look very sexy"
I shrugged. "I dunno, your opinion counts. And I don't look that great."
He shook his head. "You look great, always have."
I turned my head away and concentrated on the couple standing by the fountain. "Brent's hair, has it always been blond?"
Jason nodded. "Yeah. Surprisingly, it's natural."
"So he's really a asshole?"
Jason nodded again. "Oh yeah. Anyways, he wouldn't bother with us punks," he said making quotation marks around punks and giving me one of his rare smiles. "Besides, you're a guitar freak, not a swimmer. He's got the real assets, a pretty hot piece of property as I hear. And anyone who doesn't wear Abercrombie isn't worth his time anyways."
"How long has he been dating that Brenna girl?"
Jason turned his eyes skyward as he counted in his head. "Since freshman year. That would be three and a half years. As cheerleaders go, she's one hot bitch."
I watched as Brent leaned down and brought his hand to her neck, running it along her shoulders. She leaned into his touch and their mouths connected again, his tounge inside her mouth. I could make the muscles out through the thin fabric of his Dell High School swim team shirt. His body was perfect, better than perfect. He was the adonis of Dell High School, the untouchable God.
"Yo Allan, what's up? Cat got your tounge?"
I looked up and smiled apologetically at Jason. "Sorry dude."
"No prob man," he said as he pulled out a light. Digging in his pocket for his lucky lighter, I watched him. He was a looker himself, crimson hair, tan skin, lean and muscular from skatboarding, nice smile, gray eyes, masculine angular face.
"You know, you're not so bad looking man," I said casually. "I've never looked at you like that before."
"Don't start now," he grumbled cupping his hand around his cigarette and lighter. "I like my assring this size, and I'm not looking for the 'expansion pack'"
I rolled my eyes and watched as he flicked ash on the ground. "That's against school rules buddy," I said.
"Fuck you."
"You wish," I shot back. "Hey, wanna come over for some pizza tommorow?" I asked hopefully.
"Fuck you."
"Wanna come over and play my Fender? The rents are out of town"
He grinned and tossed his butt into the bushes. "You've got a date stud," he said grabbing me and giving me a hug. "Remember, the way to a man's heart is through his guitar."
I shrugged and we walked off to sixth hour, his arm still around my shoulders.
I kicked the tires of Jason's car as he fished in his pockets for his keys. The sun was bright I was sweating, my backpack getting heavier and heavier by the minute.
"Hey Jas, wanna come over for some Dr. Pepper and a bj?"
He finally produced his keys and held them up triumphantly. "Yes to the Dr. Pepper, no to the bj. I know you, you'll leave teeth marks."
I smiled as he opened the door for me. "Always the gentleman Jason," I said.
He gave me a look and shoved me in the car and slammed the door. Walking around to the drivers side, he jumped in and gunned the engine, peeling out of the parking space at literally eighty miles an hour. I held on to the dashboard. I swear it was worn down from all the times I'd grabbed it. I winced as Jason rambled out of reverse to drive before the car had come to a stop. There was a grinding of gears and a jolt and we flew forward.
"Hey dude, half off price on remedial driving school," I said shakily as he breezed past the bus lane.
"Fuck off wanker," he said in his best british accent, then slammed on the brake as the car in front of us stopped suddenly.
"Jesus fucking mary," he said and I heard the breaking of glass and crunch of fiberglass.
Jason was working through a long string of expletives as I tried to clear my head. Getting out of the car carefully, I checked to make sure that all my extremities are intact. They were. "As I said Jason, remedial driving lessons are half price."
It was a bitch of an accident. Jason's car was basically unharmed suffering a dented bumper, but the black Lexus in front of us had two lights smashed, a partly detached bumper, as well as a pretty fucked up trunk lid. That's what happens when a Navigator hits a two-door. I sighed as I watched the driver's door open.
"Allan?"
I stopped and watched the lean figure of Brent Anderson emerge from the car. He smoothed his tight gray shirt and put his hands in his pockets, shoving his low riding jeans down just enough to reveal a tantalizing slice of boxer and tanned stomach.
"Hey Brent," I said casually. "Jason's sorry," I said referring to my fuming friend. Jason was currently working up a cursing storm.
"No sweat dude, I'm getting a new car in a few days anyway," he said smiling. God, those perfect teeth.
"Anyways, any of you guys got a phone? I need to call coach and let him know I'll be late for practice."
I nodded and produced my cell from my pocket. "Watch it bud, I've got like three minutes left this month. Spillover minutes cost a testicle and a half."
"Talk a lot?" he grinned.
"Nope, my plan only has thirty minutes on it," I said truthfully. "I only use it when I absolutely have to."
I watched as he leaned against the car and dialed the number. His eyes were extrordinary, blue flecked with green. His hair was like liquid gold in the summer sun and breeze and it danced seductively. Jason coughed politely and I closed my mouth. Silently, I noted that I would have to thank him at some point.
"Allan, you live near school?" Brent asked after ending the call.
I nodded. "Yeah, off Pasedena. It's Ridgewood subdivision. Quite a walk though."
"Can I come over and call my insurance people from there? It sounds like your phone is out of minutes."
I nodded dumbly and took the phone back, his hand momentarily touching mine. I was shocked at the smooth warm touch and almost recoiled instantly. "Hey Jas, your car still run?"
He got in and revved the motor. "Yup, seems to be the case."
"Get on home bud, call me and I'll give you a time for tommorow night. You still get to play the Fender even though you almost killed me."
He nodded and smiled, giving me his blow job impression with his tounge, cheek, and hand. I glared and turned back to Brent. "So, where's Brenna?"
"Cousin's," he said shortly. "You better lead since I really don't know where I'm going."
I picked up and shouldered my backpack. We walked out of the school parking lot and down the creek to the sidewalk.
"So Allan," he started and I turned to make eye contact with him. "I don't know you very well. It's nice of you to do this."
I blushed. Jesus Christ, I blushed. I couldn't be more junior high if I wanted to. "Yeah, I guess we have different friends."
He pulled of his gray shirt and wrapped it around the strap of his backpack revealing a black tank top and some impressive muscles. "Hot out here," he said.
I nodded again and kept walking. "How's swimming going?"
He shrugged. "Coach is pissed that I've gained weight," he said dully. "I dunno, Brenna hasn't noticed, but she rarely sees me without a shirt on."
I frowned. "Don't you guys fuck like rabbits?" I blushed once again after saying that. "I mean, the rumors and stuff."
He laughed and snapped me with his damp shirt. "That's a joke dude, she never puts out. Besides, I care more about swimming than I do her and she knows it."
"Wow, that must suck coming second to swimming," I said offhandedly. We reached the main sidewalk and I motioned down toward the park. "I live right on Ridgewood Drive."
We began walking again and the sun seemed to scorch the back of my neck. My skin, usually pale, was slightly tanned from skateboarding in the sun, but it doesn't stand up to strong UV radiation. I winced as I realized that I would look like a lobster once I got home.
"So what is it like being the school hero?" I asked innocently as we reached a crossing.
He looked over at me, slightly confused. "What do you mean?"
God, he was gorgeous, talented, nice, and he didn't even know how crazy people went about him. "If you haven't noticed, I think it would be more then appropriate to rename the school Brent's Fan Club High."
He laughed again and pushed me. God, guys that are so touchy feely usually piss me off to all hell, but this was different.
"Hey, with the number of people who fawn over you," I added. "And fending of all the girls, Brenna must have a full time job."
Brent nodded and we kept walking in silence. He glanced at me occasionally, and as we neared the Freedom Gas station on Washington, he stopped me and stared straight into my eyes, effectively scaring the living shit out of me. "Brenna doesn't really care about me."
I was a little shocked and I put my sympathetic face on, at least temporarily while my interior had a silent party. "What?"
He continued. "I'm not really sure, but she never does anything with me outside of school unless it's a party. You know what I mean? She holds hands and makes out with me at school, but when there are no people watching, it's like she doesn't know me."
"She sounds like a major phony publicity seeker," I said as we crossed the street.
Someone stuck their head out the window and shouted at Brent and he smiled and waved.
"I wish people would leave me alone sometimes," he said almost sadly.
I nodded in agreement. "Yeah, I do too, but for a different reason."
He raised his eyebrows but said nothing.
We cut through Thomas Meyerling Jr. Memorial Park and the huge ninteen twenties era water tower. Entering Ridgewood, we walked down the sloping hill to my house.
"There it is," I pointed. "It's not a palace, but it does the job."
We walked up the front walk and opened the door, feeling the relieving cool blast of the air conditioner. Brent immediately walked to the phone and I crashed on the couch, throwing my bookbag toward the computer table. Pulling my guitar from the floor, I strummed a few quiet chords out while Brent conversed animatedly in the corner.
He hung the phone up and looked over at me. "Well, I'm free from swim practice, wanna chill?"
I got up and gave him one of my famous incredulous looks. "You, want to hang out with me? It's one thing to be friendly, it's something completely different to ask me if I want to chill."
He shrugged and looked around. "What else would you suggest?"
"No Brent, that's not the point. Chilling is fine. It's that you actually want to hang out with me. I believe that the last time we met your girlfriend called me dumb skater grunge."
He shook his head. "My girlfriend said that, not me. She's the bitch here. Look Allan, I'm not one to support these dumb social rules. Yes, I may be one of the more popular people in the school."
I glared at him with more ferocity than I had ever glared at Jason.
"Alright, I may be the most popular guy in school, but that doesn't mean I don't want to hang out with you, I appreciate human company of the intellectual kind as well as the dumb jock kind."
I slumped on the couch and began to softly pick out the melody line from Bittersweet Symphony. "I'm not your charity case." I don't know why I was being such an asshole. Here is the most perfect guy in the world telling me that he wants to spend time with me, and all I can do is be bitter about past incidents.
"Fuck you Allan, is all you care about yourself?" Brent was getting pissed. "What is so unbelieveable about me wanting to be with you?"
I stood up. "Fine, I accept your invitation Mr. Anderson." I bowed regally.
"Good," he said walking over to the couch and pushing me back down. He sat down next to me, and I could feel the heat from his body radiating outwards, the sharp smell of his aftershave filled my nose. "So, wanna go see a movie?"
God this guy was so strange. Here we had never met, and now he's asking me out to a movie, just the two of us, as if we had been best friends for life.
"Sure, how about AI? I haven't seen it yet and I heard it's pretty good."
We finally agreed on Final Fantasy, which I personlly thought was going to be pretty crappy.
We piled into my Blazer and were off to the cinema.
I finished buying some popcorn and Brent waited with our tickets. I still couldn't believe we were going to see a movie together, a guy that was virtually untouchable that I hadn't even spoken to until my best friend crashed his year old Lexus in the school parking lot. God, the irony of things.
"Allan?"
I turned around to see my friends Stephanie and Alex standing together. I waved and smiled.
"Allan, is that Brent Anderson with you?" Stephanie yelled across the lobby.
I cringed and looked to see if Brent had heard. If he had, he wasn't showing it.
I quickly walked over to them. "Hey guys, what's up?"
"Oh my God, you're hanging out with Brent? This must be a fucking Guiness Book of world Records thing or something. Since when did he hang out with you?"
I shook my head and laughed. "God, you're making it sound like I'm an ugly troll nobody likes. He just got some time off and decided to chill with me. I'm just as shocked as you are though."
"This'll be the talk of Dell High School tommorow," she said wriggling her eyebrows. "Brent Anderson 'decided' to chill with you? Jesus, hell must be freezing over."
I was a little embaressed and tried to move away from Stephanie and her obnoxious comments.
"Hey, for his sake, don't tell anyone," I said. "I mean, I'm sure he doesn't want to flaunt the fact that he did something with me, and I want to respect his wishes."
"Actually, I do want people to know tommorow." I felt a hand on my shoulder and Brent materialized from the background. "Ready to go Allan?"
I nodded and we left. Although I couldn't see it, I knew Stephanie was already on her phone calling her friends to tell them the latest news. Brent still had his hand on my shoulder and I looked up at him questioningly. "Hey Brent, what are we, Tom Cruise and Nicole Kidman?"
He looked a little taken aback, and then dropped his hand. "Sorry Allan, it's just that whenever I see a movie, I'm used to it being Brenna and we usually touch each other or whatever.
"I know, but remember, I'm not Brenna." I could tell he was becoming uncomfortable so I dropped the topic.
During the movie, it became evident that Brent was very very used to having somebody to touch.
About halfway throught the movie, Brent grabbed my hand and started massaging my palm. It felt like heaven, but I knew he was doing it without thinking. I just relaxed and let him do it, knowing that if I made a big deal out of it, he would get uncomfortable again.
Toward the end of the movie, he dropped my hand and put his arm around my shoulders, massaging my neck and collarbone. This was a little too much for me, and I was beginning to get kind of confined down there, if you know what I mean.
By the end of the movie when Gray finally died and the credits began rolling, Brent had his head resting against my shoulder and his arm around the middle of my back, sleeping quietly. I took a moment to uncomfortably shift and survey his sleeping features. His hair was beautiful, even in the dark. His eyelashes, unnaturally long for a man, were curled over his tightly shut eyelids. His breathing tickled my neck and I wanted to stay there forever.
"I'm ready Allan," he said softly.
I tensed immediately. He was fucking awake. "Hey Brent, I didn't know you were all there buddy."
"You have really muscular shoulders Allan, have you ever tried out for swim team?"
A very ambiguous comment, and I knew he knew the answer to that. "Nope, never have never will."
His hand lighty trailed down my shirt and he felt my stomach. "Nice abs too, you should really think about doing some sports."
At this point, his hand was way too close to Little Allan for my comfort, and getting turned on as a jock feels you up is really not a good thing.
I almost jumped out of my seat. "Ready?"
He nodded and followed me out.
Looking back, I should have turned around and thrust my tounge into his mouth, but I was either too self-absorbed or not completely there to see it.
"Want to go to Jerry's for dinner?"
At this point, I had to manually take my lower jaw and push it back top meet my upper.
Jerry's Bar and Grill was owned by the father of Matt Fitzgerald, one of Brent's best friends. Normally, minors weren't allowed inside, but anyone who was with Matt or one of Matt's closest friends was allowed in. Naturally, it was known as the gathering place of Dell High's most elite and 'in crowd' people. Cheerleaders had banquets there, Swim team and foot ball had pre and post game bashes there. You get my drift.
"I've never been to Jerry's," I said half to myself and half to Brent. "I don't think I'd really fit in there very well."
"Hey, don't sweat it," he said grabbing my shoulders again. "You have nice muscles. Anyone who was nice muscles, in my opinion, qualifies for Jerry's."
God, this was going to be one long night.
The music was loud and the lights flashed in my eyes making them burn and ache. I was developing a slight searing pain that announced the presence of a migraine headache. After God knows how much everclear and mountain dew, I was feeling bordering drunk and tipsy. I'm not a lightweight, but I'm no Brent either. Brent's almost six foot height coupled with his weight at about 170 gave him a little more tolerance than my five foot eleven inch 140 pounds.
"Hey Allan, want to go dance?"
I was completely out of it and my brain was swimming in alcohol, so I accepted, letting him jostle me off to the dance floor. The laser lights added to my headache, but the pumping music and rhythmic dancing bodies set my adrenaline loose. Brent smiled at me and said something, but I didn't exactly register what it was.
I was in a daze, but I soon registered hands on my shoulders and a body pressing into my back. "Just let go Allan," I heard Brent whisper in my ear, his breath sounded like a roaring tide. His hands moved from my shoulders to around my waist, and I could feel his body against my back, every rippling muscle.
So there I was, dancing with the Dell High School adonis in the most popular club in the city, in plain view of everyone.
"Brent, don't you think we should stop?" I asked hesitantly as his hands ventured beneath my shirt.
"No."
I pondered the answer for a few minutes. "Well you better not go any lower unless you're willing to take the consequences."
"What consequences?"
I placed my hands on his and moved them down, down, down. "These consequences. Damn, does alcohol make me straightforward or what?
"I could live with this consequence. Kind of a large consequence, isn't it?" he said. I could feel him against me now, and there wasn't anything small about his either.
"Nope, it's not small, but I don't think it would compare to yours," I said pushing back against him.
He was beginning to sweat a little, and I could feel the heat radiating out from our bodies. The smell of his cologne coupled with the alcoholic stupor sent my inhibitions flying away. I turned around to face him, realizing that everything in our bodies matched up. Our waist, our chests, our necks, only he was slightly taller than I was. I felt his breath blowing past my cheek and his eyes were opened wide, the profound beauty taking me by surprise.
"Why don't you kiss me," he said softly, bringing his hand up to caress my neck and shoulder.
Our lips met slowly, and I could feel them touch mine, his mouth opening and his tounge slide into mine. I instinctively wrapped my arm around his neck and played with his hair, twisting the blond strands around my fingers. We moved back slightly, both of us happily unaware of the world and blissfully euphoric.
"I remember you were in my Buisness class," he said, his hands brushing my cheek. "I wanted to kiss you so much, all through your speech about the roots of Capitalism."
I laughed remembering that I had been scared, staring at him almost the entire time, scared to move from behind the desk for fear of him seeing my erection. "I was hard as a rock during that speech from watching you," I said, my cheeks flushing even redder from the combined heat and embaressment. "I wanted to jump from behind the podium and have my way with you."
We kissed again, this time longer and more involved. I pressed as hard as I could against his body, never wanting to forget the feel of him. The heat, the animal magnetism between us.
"Let's go home," he said, his voice low and seductive. "I have some other activities planned."
I woke up with a splitting headache, the sheets wrapped around my body. I was sweating lightly, enough to make the room feel uncomfortably warm. Brent's shoes were gone from the foot of the bed, as well as all his clothes. I sat up intantly, cringing as a sharp pain shot through my fogged brain. I stumbled out of the bedroom into the kitchen and pressed the flashing button on the answering machine praying it was Brent.
No, it was Mom. Hey honey, don't be getting drunk, no parties, your dad and I love you, other crap. Well, too late for that message. I erased it and popped a few asprin, the cool water massaged my sore throat. I vaguely tried to recall details from last night, but I could remember absolutely nothing. The last memory burned into my mind was dancing with Brent in Jerry's, my arms wrapped around his waist.
I went back into the bedroom and hung my sweaty clothes up in the closet, vowing to do the laundry some other time. I grabbed some track pants and a short sleeve shirt and burst out the door, slipping on the ice to my car. Throwing on the freezing cold sweatshirt that had been on the backseat of the car for god knows how long, I thanked God my hair looked reasonable.
I arrived at school ten minutes late and attempted to walk into Buisness Law innocently. Mr. Jameson gave me a wry look and marked my tardy in his grade book. I gave him the finger behind his back and several people laughed quietly. I slammed my books down on the floor and sat in my seat, not even making eye contact with Brent. There he was, khakis and a blue shirt, his hair perfectly styled, smiling, looking put together. And then there's me looking like I'd been mauled by a bear in button down pants and a sweatshirt with holes in it. Why hadn't he waited for me to wake up? Or at least woken me up, or written a note?
How could I be dumb enough to think that Brent and I could be more than a one night stand. But did we even have sex? I closed my eyes and rested my head on the desk. Too much to ponder.
I walked into lunch still looking like I'd just woken up, still radiating the smell of sweat and cologne. I swear this is the last time I don't take a shower before school. I sat down at the table next to Jason and just gave him a look.
"So Allan, how was your night last night? You sleep well?"
I shot him the death look and opened a bottle of water. "I don't remember what happened," I said icily and attempted to stop the conversation there.
"Well you can always feel your asshole and see if its sore."
I left the lunch room in a bad moods to top all bad moods. I went outside the front doors and sat down on the concrete blocks in front of the school. I was in the mood for self-punishment so I took my sweatshirt off and sat in the freezing cold weather in a tee-shirt and thin mesh pants.
I could feel a presence at my back so I wrapped my arms around myself and made it clear to whoever it was that I was not in the mood for talk.
"Allan?"
The last person I needed at this point. "Hey Brent, how are you feeling?" I asked with mild interest.
"I was going to ask you the same thing," he said softly, sitting down next to me. "You look cold."
"I'm fine," I said curtly, but my chattering teeth gave me away. He took off his coat and draped it around my shoulders. "I just have a hell of a hangover, a bitch of a headache, and a burning question of whether we had sex last night plaguing my mind."
"Why did you leave me alone," I said, not knowing why I had even asked it. We're not friends, we're barely aquaintances. One night doesn't make lasting relationships.
"I'm sorry Allan, I needed to go home and think things through," he said looking at the ground. "I needed to sort things out. And we didn't have sex, I wouldn't do that to you."
I nodded and stood up, giving him back his coat. "Well I'm glad you sorted things out." I didn't even understand why I was being such a dick.
"Allan, sit down," Brent said with a mixture of pain and exasperation in his voice. He pulled me back down and looked me straight in the eyes. "It wasn't that I don't like you, or don't want to be your friend. It's really hard for me to decide what to do, people know me Allan, they care what I do and they're watching me."
"And this is just easy for me? Nobody's watching me? Life is simple for me because I'm not as popular as you are?"
Brent sighed. "More people care about what I do."
"God, you are such a fucking asshole," I said standing up once again. I could barely feel my fingers. "That was a low thing to say Brent, I knew getting to know you would make me feel even lower, but I wasn't even planning for this."
He looked up at me and I could see that he loved me, that he cared so much, but I was on one track and not switching rails this late in the game.
"Go to hell Brent."
I was sick, and I knew it; way too much time spent arguing with Brent in the snow. I layed down on the bed, and took the thermometer out of my mouth. 103.6. God, that's really bad.
I was too weak to go get a drink and couldn't reach the asprin bottle from where I was lying. I stared at the ceiling and felt the cold fire of fever sweep through my body. I slowly drifted off to sleep.
When I awoke, he was there beside me with a bowl of soup and some pills. I sat up weakly and looked at him.
"Eat this, then take these pills."
I obeyed wordlessly and took a few mouthfull of the thick steaming broth. I took two pills and layed back in bed, feeling mildly better. He sat down in a chair and took the phone from the dresser. "I'm calling the doctor and having him come here. "Then I'll call the school and let them know we're not coming tommorow."
"Why you too?"
"I'm taking care of you," he said and dialed the number. After a short conversation he hung the phone up and moved over to the bed and kissed my forehead. "I care about you, even if you don't like me."
I sat in stubborn silence, his beautiful face hovering inches from mine. "I do like you," I said touching his cheek. He stood up and closed the curtains, plunging the room into quiet yellow light.
"Move over," he said shedding his pants. "I'm sleeping with you."
I weakly rolled to the other side of the bed, and he lifted the sheets and slid in beside me. Despite my raging fever and aching limbs, his body felt good next to me. Pulling me close, he wrapped his arms around my and spooned our bodies together.
"Sleep now, I'll wake you up for some more pills later."
I drifted off to sleep feeling warm and secure in his arms, never wanting to move again in my life.
"He wanted me to go to the party," I said stripping my shirt off and handing Jason the bleach and color for my hair. "I want to get a new look."
We stepped over to the sink and began the process. I ended up with bleach all over the bathroom counter and most likely hair damage that eighteen bottles of conditioner and an hour in the shower couldn't solve. I checked my appearance in the mirror, and turned my head at various angles. So I had blond streaked hair, something I had promised myself I would never do.
I sprayed some Abercrombie and Fitch cologne on to which Jason gave me a wry look, and I pulled a longsleve black A&F graphic tee on to match my stonewashed jeans. I styled my hair with some gel and spun around for Jason. "How do I look?"
"You haven't worn those kind of clothes in years," Jason said looking at me skeptically. "You look good enough to eat."
"Well, if you wouldn't insist on being a top, we might have gone well together," I said shrugging. I believe in versetality myself, but being a bottom for life does not appeal to me.
Jason slapped my butt and I glared at him. "The one time I let you have that was the only bucko."
He grinned sheepishly and turned to leave. "I'll come back for assring damage assesment tommorow at eight."
I shoved him out the door and listened to his heavy footsteps descending the stairs. I sighed and looked at myself again in the mirror.
Not great, but the best I'd be doing for most of my life. The beauty of youth, right?
I heard the sound of tires crackling on the gravel outside and headlights swing through the windows. I descended to the hall to wait. I heard a car door slam, and then the doorbell rang. Running my hands through my hair, I waited a few minutes so that it didn't look like I was waiting by the door.
I took a deep breath and pulled the door open.
"Allan, sorry I'm," Brent started to step into the house and then stopped. "God you look great."
"Thanks, so do you." And he did. He had cords and a tight black sweater on, his hair was messy and hung down to the bottoms of his ears. He was definitely looking hot.
I closed and locked up the house and proceded to check out his new car. "Sex on wheels," I whistled. I'd heard of the new BMW series, but never seen one. "That thing is a freaking yacht."
He grinned and held the door open. "Your ride has arrived Mr. Goodman."
I stepped in and he closed the door and came around the drivers side. "This is the most prestigious party on Washington Island," he said seriously. "You can see Bill Gate's house from the back porch."
We drove in silence, until Brent turned the radio off and looked over at me. "Will you be my boyfriend?"
We pulled into the wide driveway and Brent killed the engine.
"I guess I could manage that," I smiled. "But on one condition."
"Okay, what."
"I get to fuck you sometimes."
He got out of the car and came around to my side and opened the door. I undid my belt and got up. He offered me his arm and gave me a sly smile. "I'm a bottom."
I shook my head in mild disbelief and we went in together, arm in arm.
We walked out into the shaded backyard, the glowing windows and loud music signifying that the party was still going strong. We walked down the brick path to the pond, where the moon was barely visible behind the dark gathering clouds. The frozen surface glistened in the lamplight, and he grabbed my hand, the two of us standing at the edge.
"So, how do you like the party," he asked after a long awkward silence.
"It's okay," I responded, moving closer to him. "Only because you're here."
"So," he said, a mischevious fire behind his eyes. "Want to make out at graduation?"
"Sounds like a plan," I said and moved into kiss him.
His watch beeped and he looked down. "Midnight," he said smiling.
"And I'm not going to run away like Cinderella," I said, finally touching his lips with mine.
"But can I still be Prince Charming?"
"I guess so," I conceded in defeat. We stood at the edge of the frozen pond, staring out past the trees to the darkened waters of the lake beyond. Lights glinted from the lofty clifftops in the distance, and it was strangely quiet.
"I don't want to be soppy and fake, but I love you," he said quietly.
I squeezed his hand. "I love you too, you know, not to be mushy or anything."
He bent down, and before I could react, he had ground snow down my neck, chilling me instantly. Laughing wildly, he dashed off into the trees.
I quickly brushed the snow from my back and ran after him, slipping in the snow. Romantic? No. Perfection? Well, maybe.
I shut the door to my bedroom and turned the stereo up, blasting Goo Goo Dolls loud enough to shake the floor. I dropped the towel from around my waist and fished around for a pair of boxers. I threw on some warm up pants and a hooded sweatshirt and flopped down on the bed, my hair still sopping wet.
The phone rang abruptly and I turned down the music and picked up the phone. "Yeah?"
"Allan it's Jas, what's going on?"
I put my feet up on my pillow and lay with my head at the end, cradling the phone. "Not much," I said shortly, not really wanting to have contact with anyone at this moment. "My boyfriend dropped me off a few minutes ago." I didn't want to grind it in that I had found someone first, but I just had to.
There was a short silence. "Your boyfriend? I'm afraid to ask."
"Yes Jason, it's Brent." I got up and walked over to the small fridge I keep in my room and pulled out a coke. "He's perfect."
"Uh huh," was the curt reply. I sighed and opened the can, holding it away from my body as it began to froth.
"Look Jason, either you support me on this or you don't. Whatever we had is no history so be my friend or call back when you get over your jealous complex."
I could tell he was offended, but right now, I just didn't know when to stop. "Just because I didn't want you doesn't mean that nobody else will, don't give up hope." I heard another long silence, and realized what I had said came out very badly.
"Jason," I started, but he cut me off.
"Whatever Allan, thanks for making me feel like shit, that's what real friends do." God the sarcasm was thick. "And I'm not jealous Allan, I'm just really happy that you found Mr. Right."
The click signified that he was off the phone, and I tossed mine on the bed. I wandered down the stairs to the kitchen and pulled out a packet of hot chocolate and a mug. I aimed the remote at the fireplace and started the flames.
I lay down on the couch and just gazed into the flames. The snow was falling pretty thick outside and I knew that I would probably be stuck at home for awhile during the rest of the week. And that my folks probably couldn't fly in for awhile. Weather can be a curse and a savior at once. Too bad it couldn't just blizzard for awhile right where my parents were. Well, take it or leave it.
I woke up to the sounds of muffled laughter and scraping sounds. I blinked my eyes open and realized that someone had spread a blanket over me and propped my head up with two pillows. I stumbled off the couch and up the two stairs to the kitchen.
The smell of eggs and bacon hit my brain and I realized exactly how hungry I was. I limped towards the coffee maker and filled it with water. "Six spoonfulls," I muttered at the blurry figure moving around the kitchen and hobbled back to bed.
Me in the morning is not pretty, especially when I haven't been sleeping in a real bed.
"Hey Allan," I felt arms around my waist and a chin on my shoulder. Between smell and feel, I knew it was Brent. "Thanks for covering me up, I feel a lot better."
"That wasn't me, it was Jason," he said, his arms still around me. "It was snowing real hard and Jason called me and told me that he didn't think you had enough to eat in the house, and that it would be hard to get food. We bought groceries and managed to get over here before the next few feet fell."
I nodded, and then the words hit me. "Next few feet?"
Jason appeared and sat down on the ottoman. "Yup, nine feet in all. It's a state record. I think that's what the radio guy was saying and all."
I blinked. "So you guys bought me food and ran over here in the middle of the night?"
They nodded. I got up and pulled them both into a hug. "I love you guys," I said as they hugged me back. We all broke apart and Brent suggested we move into the kitchen and eat breakfast.
"So Allan," Jason said as we ate in relative silence. "Am I forgiven for being the jealous ex-boyfriend?"
Brent raised his eyebrows and I dismissed him with an 'I'll tell you everything later look'. "You are forgiven," I said solemnly.
It was later in the day and the house was relatively shaded and dark from the snow piling up in front of the windows. Jason was asleep on the couch and Brent sat with his feet in my lap, gently rubbing them around the inside of my legs. I was desperately concentrating on reading the facinating accounts of life in the seventeenth century, but it was becoming increasingly difficult.
"Alright Brent, you win. What is it?"
He shrugged as I dropped the book on the floor. "How long have you been in love with Jason?"
I looked at him strangely. "I was in love with Jason, that was awhile ago. Why are you asking me that?"
Brent shook his head. "I'm asking you how long you've been in love with Jason. Not if you were or not, I know you were."
I gave him a strange look and rose to my feet, but he pushed me back down, looking straight into my eyes. I felt small and defenseless. "Answer me Allan, I already know the answer."
"Since three years ago," I said softly, not bearing to look Brent in the eyes. "I'm sorry Brent, but I just don't know what's going on with me. I feel like shit that Jason and I didn't work out. You don't know how long I've been driving myself crazy about that."
He kissed me to let me know it was okay, and I felt somewhat better.
"That's alright, I think he's kinda hot too," Brent said, turning a little red. "I checked out both of you over the past years."
I rolled my eyes and went to refill my cup.
It was pitch dark, and I woke up suddenly in my bed. Brent had gone home earlier, and for what I knew, Jason was still asleep on the couch. I jumped as the door inched open, and Jason's tall frame appeared at the door.
"Can I come in?" he whispered. I nodded wordlessly, and watched as he moved across the room, the light asserting my hunch that he was shirtless and pantless, only in his blue boxers.
He slid into the bed and turned to face me. "I heard what you were saying this afternoon." His voice was even. Not angry, not emotional, not jealous, not lustful. It was even and monotone. I froze and found it difficult to breath.
"You heard me?"
"Yes Allan," Jason said, moving closer in the bed. I realized that if I moved over any more my direction, I would fall off the bed. "And I don't know why you just didn't tell me you loved me. It wasn't sex, that wasn't the reason we broke up. It's because I loved you and I didn't think you loved me the same way. Why didn't you say something?"
I felt his hand drift over to my chest and the space between us vanished. I knew I was betraying Brent, but to hear those words from him, from my first love, threw my mind into overdrive. He was on top of me in a flash, his arms securely around my neck and his tounge in my mouth. I felt his hardness above me and I pushed up, straining to increase the pressure between us. He moved down my body and sucked at my neck and I knew the red marks would be there tommorow. He quickly pulled my boxers off and his mouth engulfed my erection instantly, my dick becoming enveloped in what felt like a moist warm cavern.
He worked quickly, driving himself on and off my rod without hesitation, his lips sealed and his hand jacking off what his mouth couldn't take. I felt my hands drift down to his head, forcing him down harder on every stroke.
I was feeling more and more blissful every moment, and my eyes were shut tightly. Feeling the first tingling warning signs, I grabbed a handful of Jason's hair and forced him down, grunting my passion as I pumped his mouth full of cum. He quickly pulled off and came back up to my mouth and kissing me once again, swapping the mixture of spit and cum in his mouth.
Looking up at me with desire, he pulled me down close to him, his breath roaring in my ears. "Fuck me Allan, I know that I never let you do it, but I need it right now."
I reached for the lube, but he stopped me. "Just you."
I flipped him on his back and raised his feet to my shoulders. He was so beautiful lying there, his hair messy and tangled and his eyes wide and glittering. His defined muscles were covered in a light sheen of sweat and my eyes traced down the thin treasure trail to his pulsing eight inches. I pushed in suddenly, not even letting him get accustomed to my size. I shoved in and at the same time, leant down and covered his mouth in a passionate kiss. His hands raked down my back and he bit on my tounge as stabs of pain racked his body. I pulled out and thrust in relentlessly as his nails dug into my skin.
As quickly as it began, it ended. I was spent and Jason had shot his load up his chest without even touching himself. I ran my fingers through his cum and tasted it, savoring the slightly bitter taste. "Only the best," I said kissing him.
He sighed and hugged me, grabbing my shoulders and kissing my neck and collarbone. "I love you Allan."
I blinked as he rolled over and the sheets rustled slightly. "I love you Jason."
He turned around and grinned, showing his perfect teeth. "Shall we get Brent to join us next time?"
I shrugged and smiled as he pulled me to him, wrapping my body in his warm embrace.
When I woke up in the morning, there was a third body between us. I opened my eyes and turned around to see Brent, his eyes closed, his hand tightly clasped with Jasons, his other around my waist. I turned to face him and snuggled up to his body, pushing my arm under his to meet Jason's.
Jason shifted in bed and buried his face in Brent's shoulder, and I knew then, that these two guys would be with me for the rest of my life. I knew there would be explaining to deal with later, but as I felt my eyelids close, I was sure of one thing.
The three of us would make the best damn lovers in the world.
We all woke up later and had our share of laughs. That night, we all climbed into bed together and promised that it would become a tradition for the rest of our lives.
This is perfection.
Good? Bad? Continue? Let me know.