Prologue:
Did I choose this, you ask? What kind of a stupid question is that? Who would choose to be gay? It seems more like it chose me. I can't even remember whose idea it was when I stayed overnight at Marty's house - - to do what we did. Honestly, I can't even remember the first time we did it. Only that it became quite a regular occurrence, once we found we liked it.
Then there was Stefan ... Who initiated it with us? As far as I know, Stef and Marty never played like that. Was I the aggressor? It never felt that way. I was the new kid in the neighborhood. I was oblivious to how cute I was before puberty. Mom knew. It was she that sent the Hollywood talent scouts packin' when they came to our door.
Both my older brother and I photographed very well when we were little. There was a milk company, Foremost, that came around to take pictures for a reasonable price, and Mom always took advantage of that, since we were not affluent enough to afford to go to a photographic studio. Then they sent us our pictures set up in frames advertising Foremost milk. We found out later that this was probably how our pictures got into the hands of Hollywood talent agencies. Or was it actually the companies that took the school pictures?
Anyway, I never got to see the inside of a talent agency, thanks to my mom. She KNEW what perverts those Hollywood producers were. I guess she was right - -
As far as I knew all boys experimented like I did with Stef and Marty. As far as I know, neither of them turned out to be this way. Why did I?
Maybe I did choose it. Not a conscious choice mind you! I could have had any girl in my high school class and several in the classes above us. I dated most of them ... once. I guess a guy is supposed to push a girl more than I did. When I didn't, I guess I was not exciting enough for them. I seldom dated any of them more than once or twice.
I pushed "it" to the far reaches of my subconscious. I surreptitiously watched all the guys in gym class. I didn't care about equipment size or anything, but if a guy was cute, I was really interested in what he was packin' under his shorts. I don't think anyone ever noticed me looking -- at least I was never accused of it. But I knew there were jokes going around about me - -
But even those two gay guys who tried very little to hide it were not outwardly accused or really treated badly. Everyone knew, but just kind of ignored it. Hmmm. Maybe that was it with me. But ... I never really did anything with guys after puberty set in. And I know a lot of guys who were extremely jealous of me just because I dated all the popular girls. I don't THINK it ever occurred to them that I never dated them for long.
The last two experiences I can remember before I left boy-play altogether were the time that Gomer and I played, and the circle jerk.
We weren't even friends, but Gomer lived a block away from me and one day we were walking home from school -- in 6th or 7th grade. We got to talking and the issue of jacking off came up. Does it always come up with boys that age - - or was I that forward? I truly don't know.
But anyway, we got to discussing how when the "funny feeling" started, it was too scary to keep jacking, so we would stop. That day was when Gomer and I learned it was not fatal to keep jacking off until the "funny feeling" stops. We decided to jack each other off and NOT stop. We did it and both found out we not only lived through it, but - - it was awesome!
I don't remember ever doing or even saying anything ever again to Gomer, but - - thereafter I was a terminal wanker! Several times a day would not be an exaggeration. This was when the orgasms were still dry.
Then came the circle jerk. I somehow got included in a circle jerk at Marty's house. This was the only thing I ever did with other guys after puberty. We all jacked off in a circle -- about 6 or 7 of us -- to see who could cum the quickest. It was probably when I was 12 or 13. We were all in the same class except Manuel. He was a year ahead of us. He lived between Marty and me and was a very cool Mexican kid.
No one remembers who came in first in that contest - - except maybe the real winner. Because all we remember was that when Manuel's uncut and thoroughly man-sized cock went off, it blew up and stuck to the eight foot ceiling! We were VERY impressed! Manuel was very proud! He was only a year older, but his body was more like a 20-something year old. I remember drooling when I saw his huge uncut meat. Stef was also uncut, but nothing compared to Manuel!
Thereafter, it was never spoken of again, and as far as I knew, no one else ever did it again. (Yeah - - as if!)
On high school graduation day I left all that behind. I was a man!
Chapter 1
Cerritos College was not anything special really. It was definitely NOT even close to a university. It was more like a glorified high school. And more to the point -- and disappointing to me -- the kids were NOT all grown up as I hoped they would be. They were still just like the kids in high school. Cliquish and petty.
But in a new school where 85% of the kids didn't know me, it was still pretty cool. I was pursued by so many girls I didn't know which end was up.
I "almost" had sex with one.
I wasn't particularly athletically inclined, but still as long as P.E. was offered, I took any opportunity to be able to get naked with other guys. The best difference in junior college was that ALL the guys were hung like Manuel. I was like a kid in a candy store!
Let's back up a bit to my 3rd week of classes.
Ralph pretty much kept to himself. His physique was phenomenal. His package was average. Everyone's package was average. Where are all the 7 -- 10 inch dicks that you read about in nifty!?? They are nonexistent! I could only guess what Ralph's looked like surging with blood. And I did try to imagine it, as I quietly got myself off in my bedroom next to mom and dad's.
It was early Tuesday morning, just after Labor Day weekend. I arrived in the parking lot in my mom's old van. I was long past being embarrassed by that. But I did park way on the far side of the lot! It usually would not have bothered me, but as I stepped out of the old minivan, there was Ralph, also getting out of his car. I know I turned white at seeing him -- until I noticed that he too was driving the same vintage minivan and it looked -- if possible -- worse than ours!
I then pointed and laughed. He grinned, "Your mom's car?"
"Yup!" I said, so relieved I felt almost euphoric. I wasn't going to tell anyone this was MY car!
"Hey! Aren't you in one of my classes?" Said Ralph.
"Yeah, we get naked together after lunch 3 times a week!" I said, and then turned several shades of red. Why do I blurt out these things! It's like my mouth has a mind of its own. Ralph blushed too.
"I was thinking of our Tuesday-Thursday morning English Lit class in Study hall C-26. You usually sit in the back near the upper door, don't you?" He said. He seemed to then look like he regretted saying it, then added, "Uhhh -- I usually sit closer to the front."
GAHH! Ralph noticed me! I got a warm feeling all over, and almost felt like wetting my pants! (And I'm not talking about pee!) "Yeah, I like a good place to get away from class fast." I said, my mind quickly telling me that he had to crane his neck pretty good to see that I was even back there.
I added, "How in the world did you even notice me?" He looked wild eyed for a moment.
SHIT! Why can't I THINK before I speak? Then he regrouped and said, "You're one of the few who ever contribute anything to the class. Are you some kind of F. Scott Fitzgerald groupie?"
"Oh, you know -- I like to read -- if it's good stuff." I replied, thankful he was able to pull that out of his ass. By this time he had locked his car and was extending his hand to me.
"Ralph." He said smiling, "Ralph Gilmore."
I grabbed his hand firmly --and was pleased that his handshake was also firm.
Great to know you Ralph. I'm - "
"I know who you are!" He grinned. I felt a little too self-important until he said, "You're "Mr. Smith."
"Oh!" I said, sounding a little too disappointed than I wanted to. He had heard the professor say my name. "I guess my fame has gone before me!" I said then, deflated to some degree. " I'm Jack."
"Nice to know you, Jack Smith!" he said more warmly that I expected. I felt that all over warm feeling again. It was then I noticed he was still holding on to my hand shaking it with both his. "So does your mom sit at home awaiting the return of her car like mine does every day?"
"Naw," I said, "Dad bought her a new Z. I just inherited this to drive to school. Cool huh?" I said, chuckling. "Where do you live?"
"Downey. Well, just barely. I am just on the southeast side of Woodruff and Imperial."
"No kidding?" I said a little too enthusiastically. "I live up by Woodruff and Firestone. I used to ride my bike up the riverbed near your area a lot."
"Really? You looked familiar! Maybe I saw you there. Me and my friend Larry hung out there!"
"Heh! I guess it's possible." I was wondering the same thing."
"What's that?" He said.
"When I first noticed you in gym class," I paused when it hit me all of a sudden how that might sound, then quickly I recovered. He didn't have any idea what I was noticing in gym class. "I - - uhh -- yeah! I wondered -- er -- or -- thought you looked familiar too."
"Hey, what do you have after lit today?"
"I usually eat breakfast at the student center." I answered.
"I've already eaten, but maybe I'll go and have a snack or something. Care if I come with you?"
"Cool." I said, being very careful to not sound too excited.
VERY COOL! I said to myself. I actually felt myself walking on the tips of my toes with each step, as I used to do in junior high school. I was about to correct that when I noticed that Ralph was keeping up with me step by step, and also rising up onto his toes.
When we got to class, Ralph stayed up at the top of the hall with me. He actually sat right next to me. I guess it would have been weird to just sit in our regular places after such a good start. He didn't participate much in class, but he smiled appreciatively when I did. I loved literature. I want to be a writer someday.
As we left the study hall for the student center, Ralph said, "So, Jack -- what's your major?"
"Would you believe it -- English Literature. What's yours?"
"I don't have any. Still trying to decide. General Ed for now."
"Wow. That class is for English nerds! How did you end up there?"
"I had to take another English class, and I am so sick of grammar I could scream. And ... I registered late. It was all that was left. But -- I'm not sorry. Especially now!"
I almost stopped walking when he said that. Was I reading too much into what he just said? I deflected it a bit, "Yeah, I know. It is a pretty interesting class." I said.
"No, Jack, I mean I'm glad we have a class together. I have been here at Cerritos for a week and a half and you are the first person I have spoken to."
I felt that warm feeling again, only this time it felt more than feverish. I'm sure I was blushing deeply. "I know." Was all I could say.
Ralph stopped walking. "You know!!?? What the hell is that supposed to mean?"
I thought he was going to hit me for a minute. Then he looked supremely hurt. I replied, "No, I meant that I felt the same way. I was hoping that college life would be different than high school. But it seems that it's the same way."
"I hated high school," he said, recovering quickly. It was like everyone else was better than me!" I could tell he regretted saying it as soon as it left his lips. And his lips, by the way were cherry read and full. I transfixed on them a moment. "I mean -- I dunno, I guess living where I live, I felt pretty poor in comparison to most others." He said, looking at the ground. He coughed and cleared his throat. I knew that ploy! I felt sympathy tears coming too, and blinked quickly.
"Ralph, I know. I really do." I said. We were completely stopped by now, and my hunger was, at least for the time being, at bay. "Hey, I'm not really very hungry right now," I said, as I could see this his eyes were kind of red, "do you wanna go under one one of the trees by the library for a bit?"
Not answering me, he just followed me and I sat beneath a tree. It had not heated up yet, so it was cool and refreshing. We sat in embarrassed quiet for a few moments -- which felt like an hour to me and probably more to Ralph. Finally he said, "Jack, I don't know what to say. First let me say I'm sorry. You didn't ask for this. I -- I mean, I guess Larry is the only other person to see me like this. I - "
"Dude -- don't worry about it. I said I understood, and I - "
"No! I mean -- thanks, but let me finish. You just seem to be so -- um -- familiar -- or something. You even remind me of him a little. God I miss him!" Then he broke down and started to cry. Luckily there was no one else nearby. He was probably wishing I wasn't nearby either. I looked all around and seeing no one, I put my hand on his shoulder. He collapsed on to his back, throwing a book over his face.
"You okay, Dude?"
"I'm so sorry, Jack. I thought I had gotten over it. Larry was killed last year when the car he was in went off the road coming back from Big Bear."
He broke down and started sobbing. I didn't know quite what to do. I wanted to do -- or say - SOMETHING, but I was at a loss. Lying prone before me as he was, the only thing close to me was his leg. I put my hand on his thigh. I didn't think anything about it until a shiver went through me like an electric shock.
"Omigod, I am so embarrassed and humiliated!" He reiterated.
"It's okay, Ralph, It's okay!" I said. "Don't worry about it, Dude. I really -- I mean -- I know how -- I mean I have no idea how you must feel, but -- it's okay, I mean - " All the while I was unconsciously stroking his thigh. I saw the front of his jeans tighten. I stopped. He must have felt it at the same time. He quickly turned over on his stomach, his runny nose in the fold of his book.
"Jack, you better got to your class." He said as evenly as he was able under the circumstances.
"You sure you're okay?" I asked.
"Yeah, I'll be fine. Sorry I went off on you like that."
"Hey, I didn't take it personally. Um -- what's -- um -- oh -- never mind." I said.
"Okay -- oh! What?" He asked. "You were gonna ask me something."
"It's nothing. I'll see you tomorrow in the locker room." Shit! That thought immediately made me feel a tightening in my own jeans.
"No, ask it now, Jack. I might be dead by then." He laughed nervously. I worried what that comment might mean.
"I was going to ask you for your telephone number. Maybe I'll call you and see how you are later."
"Really?" He sounded pleased. "555-6678."
"Thanks. See yah!" I said. I patted his back and got up to leave.
"What's yours?" He asked quickly.
"555-0244."
"Bye!" He said, and he lay back down on his book.
Author's Note: Well, it's a beginning. Whattaya think? Should I continue?
If you want to comment, write to Steve at stevethomas535@hotmail.com. Please put "Jack" on the subject line. Thanks and love, Steve