Love at Last

Hi. I'm Adam, and this is my story. This contains male-male sex, blah, blah, blah, bullshit about not liking it and going away...

Love at Last

Chapter 1

He looks into my eyes. We fall into each other's arms, into a loving embrace, and begin to passionately french kiss. My arms run over his warm, firm body, caressing every inch of it as I savor his hot, nimble tongue. My hand slides down to his ass and presses it, bringing him closer to me, and grinding our hips together...

"Now, can anyone tell me what the three major cash crops of Central America are? Bananas, coffee, and cotton are correct! Now with the warm dry climate...."

"I love you," I whisper in his ear. My breath is sporadic, and I am so emotionally involved that I feel like I am about to cry. I moan deep, pleasured moans, and he does the same. Up and down our hands run over each other's bodies, bringing us closer and closer together. We have each other's love, and that's all that matters...

"So if x to the third equals 52, then the value of y will be that times the formula on the board. Understand? Good, let's move on..."

Our movements become quicker, more aggressive, our tounges are engaging in a serious battle. Our bodies are going wild, we are rolling on the ground now, grinding our hips harder, faster. Wanting more than even this, I tear off both of our jeans as quickly as I can, and our erect cocks mash together. We dry hump, one stroke after another, moaning louder and louder. Finally, it happens. We suddenly blow our loads as we devour each other's mouths, and lie in the grass, collapsed and tired, but still madly in love...

(KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK) "ADAM! Have you started your homework yet?"

Yes, this is my life. A while back, someone told me that the average mind is thinking about sex every 5-10 seconds. Then, I laughed. Now, I know it to be quite true. This is how my everyday life runs, phasing in and out of daydreaming.

I am 15 and very out of the closet at my high school. It is a vocational technical school, which means a lot of homophobia, and a lot of gay bashing. I felt it was worth it to come out though, and still do.

I suppose it's about time to tell you about "him."

Shortly after I came out, a kid with mischeif written all over him, named Andrew, approached me and told me that a kid named John Stevens wanted to go out with me.

Although inside I doubted it, I got excited and John, the kid without a face became the object of my interest.

A few days later, I was talking with a kid that I get along with and feel that I can trust. I asked him if he knew this kid named John, and I liked what I heard.

"I've heard that that kid is gay, but I don't know whether to believe it or not."

"Uhh, well I don't know. Like, one time, I was at his birthday party playing truth or dare, and he was like all telling us to pull down our pants and dance around like that."

"Really?" I said, trying to conceal my excitement.

"Yeah, his dad is gay too."

I didn't really think that that had much to do with anything, and it seemed that if he was assuming that homosexuality ran in the family, chances were even slimmer of it actually being true. Nonetheless, I was totally excited.

The next day, I approached Andrew at lunch and asked him to point John out to me.

"Nah, he don't go to this school no more."

"What do you mean?"

"He got busted with drugs, he don't come here no more."

My heart sank. Later that day, I asked Andrew if he was even serious when he said John wanted to go out with me. When he shook his head with a smirk, I could have punched his face in.

It seemed as though my chances with John were no more.

Chapter 2

Time went on. During the course of those months, I almost had a relationship.

Knowing that I was gay, my school psychologist called me in to help answer some questions of a kid that was facing the issue of realizing he was gay. It happened, and before I knew it, he was telling me how good looking I was. He wasn't bad looking, but he wasn't good looking either. He was pretty heavy, although not totally fat, but he had a very handsome, yet very gentle a cute face.

His name was Mike. We decided that we were going out. The first few days went great. We talked on the phone, said "I love you," and all that great stuff. Then one weekend, we decided we were ready to make love.

That weekend, he came over. When we went up to my room, it was awkward as hell. We were sitting next to each other in two chairs, rubbing each others thighs and not saying a word. At one point, I climbed into his lap and experienced my first ever french-kiss.

When we moved to the bed, we sucked each others' dicks. It was a first time experience for me. We lay in bed for a while sucking and jacking each others' cocks, then I decided I'd had enough. We laid down on the floor, with me on top. We started to grind our hips together. This is when I felt I was coming close, so I told him to put his hand over my mouth, to keep my parents from hearing me moaning, and also because it turned me on. (Recieving hand-over-mouth smothering is a little fetish of mine). He hesitantly reached up and cupped his hand over my mouth, and after a few seconds of moaning into his palm, I blew my load into my boxers. He never came.

After that day, things seemed to be getting worse between us. I was told I couldn't hang out with him and his friends anymore, because his friends didn't like me. Then one morning, as we sat making out in the back seat of the car on the way to school, he stopped suddenly and took out a piece of paper. When he showed it to me, it said "I don't think I'm gay anymore."

That was pretty much the end of that, I talked to him and found that he had "just decided" he "didn't want to be gay anymore," and there was no way of changing his mind. Of course now he doesn't deny the fact that he's gay.

My spirits had been lifted from a 5th story window to the roof of a sky scraper, then dropped to ground level, where it seemed they would stay.

Christmas was over with, winter was well underway, and the world was covered in a cold, dark, slush of despair. My inner spark had died down, and was about to go completely out. Then, something unexpected happened.

While I was sitting in a blueprint reading class, a kid came to my desk and said "Hey!"

I looked up.

"Did you really ask out Andrew Couzza?"

"Rumors. Nothing but rumors. What's the joke about me asking guys out?"

"Hey, sorry, just wondering." He went back to his seat.

"Who the hell was that? I asked the kid next to me.

"That's John Stevens. The let him back into the school."

Chapter 3

For the first few weeks, John was put to the back of my mind. After all, it had all been rumors, perhaps some sort of game that John and Andrew were playing.

John was not bad-looking, he was actually pretty hot. I mean, I didn't think so for a while. He had a blonde bowl cut, bright, energetic eyes, and a beautiful mouth with straight white teeth. He wasn't bony, but he was pretty skinny.

I didn't really start seeing him around until the next shop cycle. He was in autmotive, one of the greasiest shops in the school. Usually you can tell if somebody's a real slob if they still have grease on there hands after academic cycle starts again.

It was toward the end of the shop cycle that John got the haircut. It was shaved all around the sides and back, so that all that was left was some short hair on top, which he spiked up. Oh man, did he ever look ten times hotter with that haircut! When I saw it, that's when I really started to realize how attracted I was to him.

At this point, I was in need of a boyfriend so bad that I'd masturbate 2-3 times every day, and you could probably guess that once I saw John, he was all I ever fantasized about.

The shop cycle went by too fast. It was the first day of academics. I was sitting at lunch with my friend Ashley, depressed as usual. Suddenly, a blur came across the room and stopped at our table. While my eyes were focusing, I thought, "that's one hell of an energetic kid."

When they were focused, however, they almost rolled out of their sockets. Sitting across the table from me, not even three feet away from me, was John. I turned bright red, and could only look at my feet.

"Hi, Ashley!," came his wonderful, almost-obnoxious voice.

Must be a friend of hers, I thought.

"Hi!"

I chanced a glance up, and he was looking right at me.

"H-Hi," I managed to stammer.

I took my first close-up look at him. The first thing I noticed was that his hands were clean, and had cut-short fingernails. His eyes were full of life, and his body was just calling to me to caress it.

He continued to babble on in random conversation, and I learned that he was sixteen. I also learned that he was a bold son-of-a-bitch, from the cheuvanist comments he kept making to Ashley, and the fact that he kept helping himself to her lunch.

When Ashley went up to throw away her trash, she talked to Mike, who was washing dishes. She came back to the table and told John that Mike thought he was cute. John's eyes got about as big around as satelite dishes and he almost spit out what he was chewing.

"That fat faggot?! Oh my god, I'm scared!!! That big, fat son of a bitch better not ever come near me! No offense Adam, but you got bad taste."

My chances seemed to be getting slimmer yet, but there seemed to be something about John that I couldn't quite put my finger on, maybe it was the fact that he knew the difference between good taste and bad taste of guys.

The next day, John came over again, and continued to be his mouthy self, which, by the way, I thought was totally cute.

I don't remember quite how, but somehow we got into the conversation of previous relationships, and Ashley ended up saying out loud, "You mean Mike?"

"Shut up, Ashley!" I told her.

"Oh my god," said John, "I didn't know you were serious about being gay, I thought you were just joking around." He was taken aback, but at the same time seemed somewhat excited.

"Well, don't worry about it. It's cool. My dad's like that too."

It was true! One of those rumors was actually true! Could the other one possibly be too?

When John went up to throw away his trash, Ashley asked, "Do you think John's hot?"

I nodded my head virgorously. "Oh my god! I have to tell him!"

"No! Don't! PLEASE don't! Oh my god..." She was still insisting that she tell him when he sat back down.

Sensing something was up, he said, "No, that's alright! I DON'T want to know!"

"No, John, listen!"

She went to whisper in his ear, and he sang out "DESSSSSPERADO, DESSSSSSSPERADO!!!"

"No, John, listen!"

After a few more times of this, Ashley got fed up and clapped her hand over his mouth. As soon as she did this, I began to shout "LA LA LA LA LAAAAA!" Ashley reached her other hand across the table and forcefully covered my mouth as well.

"I promise I'll listen," John mumbled into Ashley's hand. She took her hand away, and cupped it around John's ear so she could whisper it to him. Just as I was about to pull away, Ashley's friend Amanda planted both of her hands on top of Ashley's, keeping me from making a sound or even moving. As I struggled in vain to get free, I overheard the whispered words "thinks you're cute" and "hot."

When the hands came away from my face, I buried it in my own hands. I thought I was going to cry. "Ashley, you bitch!" I said, waiting for John to flip out.

"Adam," he said, "It's cool man. Don't worry about it. I still think you're a cool guy, and we're still friends."

If only I knew the significance of what he just said.

Keep coming back, there's more to come as my relationship with John progresses (hopefully). If you have any comments on my story, feel free to e-mail me at adamfanc@ntplx.net