Masquerade

Masquerade, Pt 3

I wish to retain all rights to this story. However, I am delighted to grant permission to any person to publish this story as long as there is no charge to the reader and as long as no changes are made to the story.

Copyright 2006. All Rights Reserved.

Masquerade

CHAPTER 3

With no Jason and no Samantha, my first few days back home were lonely, boring… and interminable. To escape my family, I walked to the park and read biographies. I liked biographies.

On one of the last evenings in August, just before school was to begin, I walked next door to Dottie’s and Samantha’s house and sat on the porch steps. I wanted to get away from my dad and step sisters. I missed Jason. I missed Dottie. I missed Sam.

I sat quietly, not knowing whether they would notice me or what would happen if they did. I thought Dottie might come out and maybe just talk. I thought it was equally possible that Samantha would come out and tell me to go away. If no one came out, I still wanted to be there; at their house.

After about an hour, I heard the door open. Sam came out and quietly took a seat opposite me on the same porch step. She didn’t look at me, but stared across the street. So I stared, too, just sitting.

Sam sniffled, and I glanced at her.

She turned to me, her eyes full of tears. “I wanted to say goodbye to him,” she said.

“Jason?” I asked.

She nodded and tears ran down her cheeks.

I had been stupid. I was so focused on my own loss that it never crossed my mind that Sam was losing Jason, too. She wasn’t his lover like I was; she wasn’t his little brother. But she was his little sister, and from the time she was four years old, she had spent almost every day with the two of us. She had been Jason’s best friend too, just like I had been. But because of me – because of what Sam and I had done – Jason hadn’t even said goodbye to her.

I moved across the step to sit beside her, and wrapped my arm over her shoulder. “Oh, Sam,” I said. “I’m so sorry.”

Sam leaned into me, and buried her face in my neck. I held her shaking body and stroked her back as she sobbed. As I rubbed my cheek on the top of her head, I realized that even while I felt like an asshole for having been so insensitive, I liked holding Sam like that. I still had my best friend.

Her crying slowed and she wrapped her arms around my chest. “I didn’t think you’d want to be around me anymore,” she said.

I kissed the top of her head, “I’d like to be around… if you don’t mind.”

Sam nodded, and I let her rest on my shoulder while I stroked her back. “You’re the only best friend I have left,” I whispered.

. . . . .

Dottie smiled when I sat down to supper with them the next evening. “I knew all along that you two would work out your differences,” she said. The thought crossed my mind that our main difference remained… Sam was a girl and I was a boy… a boy who wanted another boy.

That didn’t prevent Sam and me from easing back into our friendship – but just friendship. Neither one of us expressed interest in repeating our sexual encounters; our feelings were still a little raw.

We entered high school that year, Sam and I, and we had several classes together. With Jason gone, and the new school and all, Samantha and I grew steadily closer – at least as close as we had ever been, and maybe even closer since it was only the two of us now.

But Sam wasn’t Jason, and a best friend is not the same as a lover. I hadn’t written Jason out of my life. We tried to keep in touch, but couldn’t afford a lot of phone calls. Neither one of us was a letter writer, nor was email available to us yet. Sam kept me from being completely lonely, but hugging my pillow at night, instead of Jason, sucked.

I’m not sure why it is that one guy needs another, or why some of us need another guy so much more than others seem too, but I did. When I looked at other guys at school, it wasn’t just their bodies I longed for; but another male be with, to love, to sleep with at night.

And then there was the physical hunger. To put it bluntly, I had become used to almost daily sex with Jason. And I missed that, too.

Brad Wilson was another freshman. He was a head shorter than me, with green eyes, dark eyebrows, and shoulder length, baby-blond hair that often fell over his face. He was a little geeky like me, with a slender body. In November, I caught him looking at me when we were dressing after phys ed; looking at me the way I sometimes looked at guys. He looked away, and I took my turn, noticing the tight muscles in his shoulders and that he had high, firm pecs. He glanced back at me and I was bold – I smiled and glanced down at his body. He smiled nervously and looked away.

He was by himself in the cafeteria at lunch the next day, so I took a seat next to him and Sam took a seat across from us, giving me a curious glance.

“I think he’s gay,” I told Sam that night as we sat on her porch swing, doing homework.

Her head dropped. “Oh,” she said quietly; then after a moment, “He’s cute.”

Brad was outside the door of my History classroom the next morning when class ended, and he walked with me to my next class. I was surprised that he knew what class I was in. But then I found out what class he had scheduled before phys ed, and walked over to the gym with him. He turned from me to undress and put on his long T-shirt before pulling off his pants. But he’d seen me before; I let him see me again, and he snuck a couple of quick glances my way.

After class, we walked to the showers together, and he looked like he might be tenting a little as we each took a stall. Over the next couple of weeks, we engaged in the kind of exploratory talk guys always have up front, when they try to find out about each other and what they might have in common.

When Brad and I sat together in the cafeteria, across from Sam, we let the sides of our legs press together, and once, before showers, he was definitely tenting. The shower stalls don’t have curtains, and I paused after my shower to look into his. His back was to the door, and my eyes traveled down his finely muscled back to his white butt – a bubble butt – and down his lean but muscled legs. Then I realized he was jacking off -- trying to hide it – but jacking off, and I could tell. So I headed back to the lockers before springing a boner myself; which I did anyway, and I dressed quickly.

Brad asked me to sleep over the Friday night after Thanksgiving.

Sam wasn’t happy; she had wanted to go to a movie. But I was needy; really, really needy. And I figured that I might have a chance with Brad.

However, knowing that a guy is probably gay doesn’t mean anything will happen. We slept in the same bed, in our boxers – Brad probably as hard as I was – and neither of us made a move. We talked a long time; laughed nervously, and eventually went to sleep.

“It sucks, Sam,” I said as we sat watching a movie in her living room the following Sunday afternoon. Dottie was working in the kitchen. I leaned close to Sam. “I know he’s gay. It’s just… what if I’m wrong?”

“Well,” she said with feigned disinterest, “You’re bigger than he is; he’s not going to punch you out if you make a move.”

I laughed. That was the least of my worries, but then to go along with her joke… “You haven’t seen the muscles the little guy has.”

She leaned back and looked down her nose at me. “Oh, now I understand why you’re interested in him.”

. . . . .

Brad waited for me to invite him to a sleep over at my place next. I guessed as much and finally confessed to him that I never invited anyone to my house any more. So the Friday before Christmas break, he invited me over again.

This time I was determined that something would happen. And yet, we still made it to bed in our boxers, talked nervously, and then quieted for sleep. I lay on my stomach and didn’t sleep, though. And after a few minutes, Brad, as if in his sleep, rolled up on his side, pressing his bare back to my side.

After a moment, as if in my sleep, I cocked my leg his way, to conform it to the back of Brad’s legs; the bend at my hip resting against his butt, the top of my thigh coming up against the back of his.

We lay like that for a few moments, and then, as if in sleep, I shifted toward him, casually throwing my arm over his side, but carefully keeping my hips twisted downward toward the bed so my erection wouldn’t press against him.

After a few moments, very slowly, very gently, his hand closed over the wrist I had dangling over his side, and he moved my hand to the front of his boxers where, gently, he pressed my palm against his erection.

I squeezed, and he shuddered.

And then I did move up to him, spooning the back of his body with mine, letting him feel my erection against his butt. Slipping my other arm under the gap between his pillow and his shoulder, I wrapped it up across the front of his chest. Then I slipped my hand into the fly of his boxers and found his cock; shorter than Jason’s, but as thick, and with soft, thicker skin around the shaft.

He moved back against me, into the fold of my body, and I rubbed my cock on his butt while I began to stroke him.

“Have you ever done this before?” I whispered.

He shook his head. “No,” he whispered so quietly that I almost didn’t hear.

“You OK?” I asked.

He nodded emphatically.

I left off stroking him and pushed down his boxers, which he kicked off. Then he lay quietly, back still to me, as I kicked mine off. I pressed up to him again, wrapping my arm around his chest and rubbing my cock on his bare butt.

He trembled slightly. “Are you going to put it in?” he asked.

“No,” I whispered, and then rolled him toward me onto his back. “I’m going to kiss you.”

Brad’s eyes glinted in the faint light of his room as they met mine. I wrapped my arm over his bare chest and slid the inside of my thigh over his upturned cock. He gripped my arm, and moaned softly, his eyes rolling up for an instant and then back to mine.

I lowered my lips to his, and kissed him softly, and then again, pressing my lips to his more firmly. Gripping my arm, he kissed back. I rubbed the inside of my thigh softly over his cock as we kissed and his mouth opened under mine. I found his tongue with mine, and Brad released my arm, wrapping his arms lightly over my shoulders.

Holding our kiss, I moved over him, settling my legs outside his, my cock and balls on his. Sliding my hands under the back of his shoulders, I held on and ground against him as we kissed.

It seemed very different with Brad instead of Jason, but not bad. It was exciting, partly because he was different. I liked his smaller, tighter body. I ground, and kissed him hungrily.

Brad put his hands on my shoulders and pushed up, breaking our kiss. He was frowning. “What’s the matter?” I asked, our bellies pressing as we breathed.

He shook his head and pushed me off, sliding out from under me. “Slow down,” he said, sitting up.

I rolled to my back beside him, frustrated, but mainly with myself. “Sorry, dude,” I said. “I sorta forgot about it being your first time.”

Brad glanced down at me and pulled up his knees, wrapping his arms around them. He shrugged.

Our eyes met. “How did you want it to be?” I asked. “How did you want it to be your first time?”

His eyes traveled down my body and back, stopping at my middle. “Can I just touch you?” he asked. “Can I just… you know… see what you feel like?”

I nodded. “Sure.”

Slowly, Brad unwound, sliding his legs out to the side, sitting sideways with his weight partly resting on his right arm. Tentatively he reached forward with his left, laying his palm on my belly, just below my sternum.

I leaned back on the pillow and we watched his hand as it traveled over my belly, up over my chest, down my side. “I wish I had a body like yours,” he whispered.

“Dude,” I said, “you’re kidding! You have a great body.”

He lifted his eyes to mine.

“You do,” I assured him.

Brad’s eyes returned to my middle and he slid his hand down over my left hip and down my left thigh; then up my right thigh and over my right hip. “You’ve done stuff before?” he asked.

“Yeah,” I said, spreading my legs slightly to give him better access.

“Jason?” he asked.

I nodded. “Almost every night.”

“Cool,” he said quietly. “No wonder you’re used to things.” He glanced up at me. “Sorry I wanted to slow down.”

I shrugged. “This is nice.”

Brad closed his hand around my cock. He lifted it, looked at it, moved the skin up and down my shaft. The he looked up at me and smiled. “Excellent, dude!”

“You like it?” I asked, throatily.

Brad’s smile faded. Holding my cock, he leaned down and kissed my lips, lightly. Then he slid down alongside me, and with his eyes on mine, he rested the side of his face on the underside of my cock and wrapped his arms under my waist. Watching my eyes, he rubbed his cheek on my shaft. I combed his hair with my fingers.

“It’s soft,” he murmured. “I like it.”

I combed his hair with my fingers, and he gently rubbed his cheek on me. Then Brad lifted his head, and drew the tip of his nose down my shaft to my balls; his blond hair tickling my belly. He took a deep breath through his nose. “I like how you smell,” he said.

He lifted my cock with his hand. And then I felt his tongue on my crown; touching, tasting. He slipped his mouth over it and tried sucking; just the tip. I tensed.

“Did I do it wrong?” he asked, lifting his head to look back at me.

“No, dude. It feels good. Would you like to… you know… do a sixty-nine and I can show you how?”

He nodded, and we reversed our body positions, and this time, I let Brad set the pace. We started slow, mainly just touching and feeling at first. I showed him things, and he repeated them on me.

He came first, and shook all over when he did. “Rest dude,” I whispered when he acted like he was going to try to take me back into his mouth and finish me. “I’m OK.”

But Brad held my shaft and closed his mouth over it again. His heart wasn’t quite in it like before, but it felt good, and I came, without thinking to warn him first. He swallowed everything, and then rolled to his back.

“You OK?” I asked.

Brad nodded and sat up. “I need a coke.”

After sodas and a bathroom trip, we stripped, but when Brad left his boxers on, I left mine on as well. He crawled into bed on his side, facing away from me. I crawled in behind him, spooning his body from behind. Laying my hand on his waist, I whispered behind his ear. “We can do other stuff if you want.” I said. “I can help you get up for it.”

“Later,” Brad said, rolling away.

As much as anything, I had wanted to sleep with him in my arms again. But I had rushed Brad once. He wasn’t real rushable.

I rolled over to my other side and pulled up the bed covers, thinking how crazy it was that Sam, a girl, got into doing things a hell of a lot easier and faster than Brad. It crossed my mind that if I was straight, Sam and I would probably be screwing like bunnies.

The next morning, Brad was quiet and almost unfriendly -- I wouldn’t see him again until after the holidays.

. . . . .

The day after Christmas, I took a bus to Houston to stay for eight days with Jason and Aunt Ellie. Jason was a licensed driver now, and he met me at the bus station with a huge hug.

At the car, he bent me back over the trunk, pressing his hardness to mine and I almost came before we broke it up and headed to his house. We were shameful. We walked in. I said hi to Aunt Ellie and gave her a hug, and then we took my bag back to Jason’s room… and shut the door.

The door hadn’t closed before we were in each other’s arms, and pulling each other’s clothes off. And we didn’t come out from the room until suppertime. I had trouble looking Aunt Ellie in the eye.

That night, I slept in Jason’s arms; waking to make love… sleeping… waking. It was almost eleven in the morning when I woke for the last time, spooned to Jason from behind, my erection resting on his butt. I backed my hips and pointed into his crack.

“Do you mind?” I asked. “We’re still lubed, right?”

Jason wiggled his butt back. “Go for it,” he told me, wrapping his arms over mine.

I slipped in to him, and pulled his butt back snuggly to me. “It’s been so long,” I murmured. “I’ve got a lot of catching up to do.”

“Wait till you meet Troy and the other guys,” Jason said. “We’ll get you caught up real good.”

I slowed. Jason had mentioned his new friends before. I had told him about Brad and he told me about his friends. “I didn’t think you’d done much with them,” I said.

Jason shrugged. “Well yeah, I’ve done some. And last week, before Christmas, Troy and I slept over with a couple of guys, but hey,” he twisted his head back toward me, “I haven’t done anything with anybody for days. I’ve been waiting for you.”

We finished quietly, and as soon as I was done, Jason rolled me to my back. “We’re still tight… right, Timmy?” he asked, kissing me lightly. “You know I don’t love anyone else.”

I smiled and nodded, but until then I hadn’t even thought about him loving someone else. Up to that point, I had only worried about him loving me less.

Troy was of Chinese descent, and had long, black hair, wide shoulders, a slender waist, and beautiful, placid eyes. Jason took me to meet him and other new friends. I met them all. And then, two nights before I was due to leave, Troy spent the night with Jason and me.

There was probably no way I was going to like Troy anyway. I especially didn’t like him when he was kissing Jason. But he let me take him from behind while he was sucking off Jason. And then later, he gave me a blowjob and was pretty good at it.

But that experience affected how I felt about Jason. We made love the last night and slept in each other’s arms, but it wasn’t the same. We hugged and I cried before I got onto the bus home. The reason I was crying, though, was because I knew that things for Jason and me would never be the same.

. . . . .

Those first days back, Brad didn’t exactly dodge me, but he wasn’t as friendly. After Houston, I wasn’t exactly looking for anybody else just yet anyway. So I coasted, and spent my time with Sam.

She had finally started to develop that year. Her breasts had grown slightly, but still remained the nice, modest size that I liked on girls. Her hips had developed a subtle curve that even a gay guy like me could appreciate. Her hair hung thickly down to the middle of her back, its deep red color a striking contrast with her creamy, clear complexion.

Dottie had taken Sam for a makeover for Christmas, and Sam began wearing just a little makeup around the eyes. And suddenly, it was like everyone realized that Sam… was beautiful.

Guys began to pay attention to her and she liked it. Before long, there was always a guy or two hanging around us… well, around her. With all the male attention, her lively blue eyes, for the first time since Max died, started to dance again.

I had supposed before that guys held back from Sammy because she was so _un_developed. That, and I guessed that guys just assumed that Sam and me were boyfriend-girlfriend. But the way Sam was looking now, guys weren’t holding back at all.

My dad couldn’t understand it. “The girl next door is a knockout and you only want to be friends?” He asked in exasperation. He started to say more, but I think he realized the obvious answer to his question. I think it had been dawning on him for some time that his only son was gay. Funny thing was… he stayed away from me more.

At first, I resented all the guys being interested in Sam – not because I wanted them interested in me, which I did -- but because it really did seem that Sam belonged to me somehow. I didn’t want to face the inevitable fact that she would eventually want to date and have boyfriends. I was grateful at least, that she hadn’t shown an interest in any particular guy yet.

One evening in early February when the breeze was uncharacteristically off the gulf and the temperature was warmer than normal, Sam and I were sitting side-by-side on her porch swing to study. She was sitting cross-legged and I had one foot on the ground, swinging us gently.

Sam cleared her throat. “So what about you and Brad Wilson?”

I shrugged. “I’d say he had a bummer experience with me, but I know better. I think he’s just not cool with being gay yet.”

“Timmy,” she asked quietly, “have you ever even thought about girls?”

I shrugged. “Other than when you and I did some stuff?” I asked, and shook my head. “No,” I said honestly.

Sam watched me, perhaps expecting me to say more.

“Look, Sam,” I said, “it’s not just that girls lack some, umm… big essentials… umm… down between the legs, you know. Girls just don’t turn me on. They’re all like my sisters are – I mean, all they think about is shopping and makeup and boys and…”

“You think of boys,” Sam pointed out with a cocked eyebrow.

“You know what I mean. Girls are flakey.”

Sam frowned.

“Well not you, of course,” I quickly said.

Her frown deepened.

“Damn it, Sam!” I protested. “You aren’t like most girls and you know it. You’re tons better than they are.”

“Why? I don’t have big essentials,” she pointed out.

“No,” I replied with a surprised laugh. “Wait! I take that back… for a girl, you’ve got balls.”

She slapped my shoulder.

“Well you do, Sam.” I told her, amused.

She ignored me and returned to her book.

“Look, Sammy,” I said. “It’s not just the big essentials. Guys are different in other ways, too. That was what was so special about Jason and me… what was so special about sleeping next to him every night and being with him all day – it was why we were so close. We are both guys.”

Her head was down. She was listening quietly, and I wondered what she was thinking. “I’ve thought a lot about it, Sammy,” I told her, “and I know in my heart that I could never get as close to a girl as I can to a guy. It’s the way I’m made, Sam. My heart only fits – really fits – another guy’s heart.”

She glanced off into the distance. “Alexis Green has a crush on you.”

“What?” I asked, surprised. “She’s cute.”

“Yeah, go figure!” Sam smiled, a lopsided smile. “You don’t think a cute girl could have a crush on you?”

I shrugged. “Well no, I mean, I’m not the best looking guy around.”

“I’ve always thought you were,” she said quietly.

Shaking my head sadly, I took her hand. “Look, Sam. If I were into girls, I wouldn’t care at all about Alexis. If I were into girls, it’d be you and me and I’d fight off every other guy. You know that, right?”

Sam pulled her hand back and looked away. “I blame your dad,” she said, angrily. “He’s the reason that you’re like you are. I mean, the reason you were always over at Jason’s so much to begin with was to get away from your dad.”

I shook my head. “Sure, my dad’s fucked up, Sam, but honestly, I’m just wired for guys. I’m wired for guys as much as you are.”

Sam’s head dropped back to her book, her brow was furrowed.

“I don’t have to tell you which guys are interested in you,” I said. “They all are… hanging around you like… like… hyenas on prey.”

“You sure have a way of saying things,” she murmured.

“Well they are. Like that arrogant prick, Tom Scott.”

Sam shrugged. “He’s asked me to go with him to see The Last Crusade Friday night.”

“Aw, Sammy, you can’t. You can’t go out with that guy. He’s a creep.”

“He’s a cute creep,” she said, jotting down a math answer on her paper. “And,” she added, “he’s got what you like – big time essentials.”

“How the hell do you know that?” I asked.

She gave me the “duh” look. “You look at guys. You’ve looked down there.”

“He probably stuffs Kleenex in his crotch,” I protested.

“Oh?” she said. “You’ve seen him in the showers? I’ve heard it’s not Kleenex.”

I closed my book. “Damn it, Sammy. This isn’t halfway funny. Just cause I said you aren’t like other girls doesn’t mean you have to start sounding like some horny guy.”

She closed her book and frowned at me. “What makes you think that girls don’t get horny, too?”

I waved my hand dismissively. “OK, OK, but not Tom Scott, he…” and then my mouth dropped. She said horny. “Oh, damn Sammy… you’re not thinking of doing anything with him.”

“Why not?” she challenged. “You won’t do it with me.”

I didn’t know what to say. I swallowed hard, and looked away, trying to think.

“He asked me to Fat Tuesday at La Villita, too,” she said quietly.

“What’d you say?” I asked.

“That someone else had asked me first.”

“Who?” I asked.

“Javier Lopez did,” she said.

I shrugged. “At least he’s not an asshole.”

She marked down another answer.

“So you’re going with Javier?”

Samantha sighed. “I thought about seeing if you wanted to go.”

“Really?” I asked. “That could be fun.”

“Yeah,” she said with a slight smile.

. . . . .

Rigo Avila, a sophomore, was one of the half dozen guys at school that everybody figured for gay. I had pretty much avoided any of them, not wanting to be so out myself, and not being attracted to their more feminine demeanor. Rigo was undeniably cute however; a slender guy with a small face and a big mop of black hair. He caught me looking at him at least two different times.

By April, I was so horny that I was staring holes through all sorts of guys and it was all I could do to not be obvious. Then, one Tuesday morning, I ran into Rigo and another guy, Hector Lopez, coming out of the handicap john closest to the gym just I was about to go in. I wanted some privacy because I’d been thinking of a quick pull, and that john was isolated. I had even begun to stiffen up in my pants.

Rigo was shorter than me, and when we ran into each other his head was down from drying his hands. He froze, his eyes on the obvious lump in my pants. Hector beat a quick retreat. There was only one toilet in that bathroom, and I guess he knew what people might assume seeing them come out together. I know what I assumed.

Rigo, standing in front of me, lifted his eyes from my boner, and our eyes met. Mine weren’t just hungry; they were ravenous.

He looked up and down the hall. So I did as well. No one else was around. With a wave for me to follow, Rigo backed into the john. And I got really hard.

Following him in, I locked the door behind me. Rigo stepped right up to me, and with his eyes on mine, he laid his palm on my erection. I caught my breath, and my eyes half shut.

With a cockeyed smile, Rigo dropped to his knees and unfastened my buckle. He worked my pants down, reaching in to take out my cock. He pulled it out and looked up at me with a grin. “Dude… nice!”

His dark eyes stayed on mine as he opened his mouth and pointed my cock toward it. I held my breath as his mouth closed over my crown and his lips sealed around my shaft. Then suddenly, my knees almost buckled. It must have been an automatic reflex – one of those reflexes that never makes it to the brain -- because my knees were buckling even before the sensations hit me. But then they did hit and I was bent over Rigo, gasping, clutching his shoulders to keep from falling completely over.

Jason and I had sucked each other off countless times, but I’d never experienced anything like what Rigo did. I’m sure that he simply swirled my glans with his tongue, but the way he did it gave me the most intense sensations I’d ever had. I almost ejaculated on the spot.

Pushing him back by the shoulders, I pulled my hips back; pulling my cock from his mouth. “Holy shit, Rigo!” I hissed. “Damn! Slow down!”

His eyes were locked on my cock, and he nodded without looking up at me. Holding me firmly by the base of my shaft, Rigo pulled me back into his mouth.

He began bobbing, and I kept my grasp on his shoulders. Rigo was a slurper, and the bathroom filled with the sounds of him slurping and me moaning softly. My cock grew dripping wet with his saliva… and that felt incredible, too.

And then he swirled his tongue on my crown again, and I lost it, blasting into his throat while squeezing the hell out of his shoulders with my hands.

He licked me clean, and when his tongue hit my glans again, I jerked back and out of his mouth; collapsing back against the wall.

Rigo stood, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand, and smiled.

“That,” I said, still catching my breath, “was incredible.”

Rigo smiled and reached down to give my softening cock a squeeze. “I liked it, too.”

I didn’t particularly want to do it, but fair was fair. So I offered… “Do we need to take care of you, dude?” I asked, pushing off the wall.

He shook his head. “Just did with Hector, and I need to get to class.” He patted my hip. “I’ve wanted to do you for_ever_.”

“You knew I was gay,” I said, not surprised.

He smiled and winked, then stepped to the sink to wash his hands. My cock was still hanging out, slick with Rigo’s saliva. I would have preferred washing it off, but didn’t want to offend him, so I wiped it with my hand, tucked in, and stepped up beside Rigo to wash as well.

He dried his hands while I was still washing, and he patted my butt on the way out. “Any time you’re in the mood, babe,” he said. “Just let me know.” He placed his hand on the doorknob. “Just wink.”

I was happy the rest of the day. I know it sounds stupid, but Rigo had just been so cool about it, and it was fun… and it felt incredible. Somehow, that easy, no-pretense tryst with Rigo had not only gotten my rocks off, but met the need for the kind of relaxed male intimacy I had known with Jason. I decided that I liked ol’ Rigo.

. . . . .

Meeting Rigo in that handicap bathroom was scary; especially knowing that Rigo met other guys there, too. But I took him up on it two more times in the next three weeks. Each of those times, he knelt on the floor and jacked himself off while sucking me. He seemed to like that.

The third time I winked and met him in the john was the second week in May. When he rubbed my crotch after I locked the door, I pulled his smaller body close and whispered in his ear… “Can I fuck you?”

I really wanted to have a guy in my bed; some guy to make full-length, naked, body-rubbing love too… all night… sleeping in each other’s arms. But at that moment, I’d give anything to hold Rigo by the hips and feel my cock slip into his tight looking butt.

He glanced at his watch and bit his lip. I rubbed his back and kissed the nape of his neck. Rigo melted against me and nodded. “Sure.”

I turned him around, and wrapping my arms around his waist, I pulled his butt back into my lap. His hair smelled clean. I took a deep breath, and then nuzzled aside his hair and collar, burying my mouth in the nape of his neck as Rigo rubbed his ass back against me, and I unfastened his pants from behind. I pushed them, along with his briefs, down off his hips and ran my hands over the smooth skin of his lower abdomen, feeling over his hipbones, down through his pubes as his butt rubbed my crotch; and then, holding his slight body back against mine, I took his cock in one hand and his balls in another.

Rigo arched back against me. His head rolled back on my shoulder and he grabbed my forearms tightly. He felt good in my arms. His cock felt good in my hand. Rigo had an average length cock, but it was thick and it was a huge turn-on, just in the way it filled my hand.

Letting go of his balls, I felt over his hip, back between our bodies, and over his butt. Rigo had a firm little butt and his skin back there was incredibly soft and smooth. “Umm,” I murmured.

Rigo reached back with both hands, trying to undo my belt buckle. I unfastened my pants and worked them down off my hips, but not before I retrieved the small tube of lube I had carried in a front pocket, hoping Rigo would say ‘yes.’

He held my cock with both hands behind him and rubbed my crown up and down his crack. I rubbed under his butt and between the backs of his legs with my fingers.

Then Rigo leaned forward, both hands on the bathroom wall. His slender legs were almost hairless. I rubbed my hand over them; his soft skin was inviting. I squeezed lube onto my fingers and rubbed it into his crack.

Scooting forward, my pants around my ankles just like Rigo’s were, I probed with my cockhead between his butt cheeks until I found his opening. Then grabbing his hipbones, I pressed in and leaned back to watch my shaft disappear into his crack.

I pulled back easy, and then pushed in again, watching. Rigo moaned. I pulled back slowly and pushing in again, Rigo dropped a hand to his cock and started stroking.

Each time I pressed in, I pulled back on his hipbones and his butt filled my lap. It had been so long since Jason and I had made love this way; I savored it.

Rigo had a narrow waist and a slender torso. I pushed up his shirt. The skin of his back looked warm. Holding his shirt up with one hand, I lifted mine with the other and bent over him, wanting to feel the flesh of my belly against the bare flesh of his back. I wrapped my arms under him and held him as I drove with my hips – much like I used to do with Jason. I circled my hand around his cock and Rigo let me take charge of it. I drove forward, pressing us toward the wall while I stroked him.

It was a good ride, and I was able to come just before Rigo and then stay inside him till I brought him off. Then when I pulled out, he turned to me and pressed our still thick cocks between our naked loins. Wrapping his arms over my shoulders, he buried his face in the side of my neck. “Dude,” he murmured. “That was so good.”

“I love your butt,” I whispered. “Your skin is so fuckin’ soft.”

He chuckled. I kneaded his butt and he clung to me, our loins gently grinding.

“We’ve missed half the class period,” I whispered. “Sorry, Dude.”

Rigo nodded on my neck and his slender body felt good against mine. I was tempted to kiss him, but I wondered how many guys he gave blowjobs to, but just then someone tried the door handle, and we froze.

They tried it again. “Come back later,” Rigo called out.

We waited. They evidently went away.

Rigo dropped his hand between us and closed it around my cock. “Why don’t we skip the other half of the period as well?” he asked.

As I was walking down the hall afterward, I ran into two junior girls who glanced at me and at Rigo walking in the other direction. I could tell what they were thinking. It was the last time I winked at Rigo. A couple of weeks later, though, just before the end of school, Rigo passed me his phone number for the summer.

I didn’t tell Sam about Rigo at the time. I didn’t think she’d be impressed with john sex.

And then out of the blue, also at the end of school, Brad Wilson lingered by my locker after phys ed, watching me dress. So I lingered, too, wondering what he was up to. When the others had left, and we were alone for a moment, he scooted over on the bench toward me.

“Timmy,” he began hesitantly.

I shut my locker and turned to him. “Yeah?”

He glanced away. “Look, my folks have a cabin…” he glanced down, “on Medina Lake for the whole month of June,” he glanced to the other side. “My parents said I could ask a friend I like to spend a week out there with us?” He glanced up at me. “Would you like to?”

I eyed him, skeptically.

“Shit!” he said, looking away. “I fucked up, didn’t I? You probably aren’t interested in me anymore.”

“Well,” I said, leaning against my locker, “You haven’t been very friendly.”

Brad, chewing his lip, looked up at me, then stood and leaned close. “I’m not like you,” he whispered. “You’ve already done stuff with other guys, and you’re… you know… gay. I still don’t know about me.”

“That doesn’t mean you had to avoid me,” I answered, meeting his gaze.

He nodded, and his eyes dropped to the ground. “What’s really shitty,” he quietly said, “is that all along, I wished we were friends.”

“Does that mean,” I asked, “that if I stay at the lake with you, we’ll be just friends?” And then I quickly added, “It’s cool if that’s what you want.”

He shook his head, and his eyes met mine once more. “I want to try stuff. I want to try all the stuff you do with other guys.” And then once more, his eyes dropped. “I think I’m gay, too.”

I considered the offer. Dottie had been planning for months to take Sam and me to Colorado, and there was no way I would mess that up. But ‘trying stuff’ with Brad sounded… “In June?” I asked.

Brad looked up, hopefully. “Week after next, OK?”

I nodded. “Gotta check with my dad, but as long as I mow the lawn, he doesn’t give a shit what I do.”

“I’ll help you mow it,” Brad offered with a grin.

“No need, bro,” I said, shaking my head. “Sam helps me mow, and I help her mow her yard.”

“Really?” Brad asked, cocking his head. “I’d still be glad to help.”

I smiled, picking up my books from the bench. “I’ll check with my dad.”

We turned for the door together. “And, bro,” I said under my breath, “for the record, I haven’t done stuff with a lot of other guys. It was pretty much with one guy,” I said, my voice trailing away as I thought of Jason.

Brad called daily, and made good on his offer to help us mow. Sam was cool to him at first, but warmed up a little as the three of us worked and joked together. When she turned a hose on us as we were putting away her mower, I showed Brad where Dottie kept her mop buckets and we had a full-fledged water fight… Brad and me shirtless, against Sam with a hose, in an increasingly wet T-shirt.

Sam hated bras, and that was obvious as Brad and I filled buckets from other faucets and ran back and forth, throwing water on Sam like buckets on a fire. She was enjoying spraying us down so much while dodging our soakings that she didn’t realize how her shirt had become pasted to her front. When she did, she ignored it. If Brad hadn’t been around, I wouldn’t have been surprised if Sam had pulled her wet shirt off and thrown it at me.

As it was, I was pretty sure that Brad was sprouting wood -- Sam really looked incredible in a wet T-shirt, especially when, after a bucket volley, she held the hose between her legs and smoothed her long, wet hair back with both hands.

Brad’s jaw dropped, and with a wicked grin, Sam hosed down the front of his shorts, leaving no doubt about his condition. Brad’s erection was almost as obvious as Sammy’s breasts… and just as much of a turn on.

“Dude,” Brad said, his eyes following Sammy when she went inside. “Are you sure you want to be gay?”

“Having second thoughts?” I asked, secretly pleased that he thought Sammy looked hot.

Brad turned to me and looked up and down my soaked, shirtless torso. He shook his head with a lopsided grin. “No second thoughts.” Then he glanced toward Sam’s back door. “But if both of you wanted to…”

“Forget it,” I said with a frown.

Brad held up his hands defensively. “Well then, I pick you, dude.”

. . . . .

That night, after Brad returned home and we’d eaten supper with Dottie, Sam and I sat on the swing on her front porch. I pushed us off and pulled my feet up into the swing, turning to face Sam as she had me. We liked to sit with our backs to the arms of the swing, feet meeting in the middle.

“So is Brad your boyfriend now?” she asked.

“Ha!” I said. “Is that why you almost turned him straight today? Jealous because you thought he’s my boyfriend now?”

“Turned him straight?” Sam asked with a lopsided grin.

“You and your wet T-shirt,” I said. “You know you made him sprout wood; you hosed it down for him.”

Sam grinned. “That was for me? I thought he’d gotten it for you.”

“You know he didn’t,” I said, giving the side of her butt a little kick with my heel.

Sam’s grin faded. “I bet he does want to be your boyfriend.”

I frowned at her. “Not hardly. Like I told you before, he wants to be friends, and I’m cool with that.”

“Yeah,” Sam said, looking away with her brow furrowed. “I know what you’re cool with.”

“Give me a break,” I said, dropping my foot to the floor to give us another little push off. Then I leaned back over the swing arm, watching the ceiling go back and forth. “It’s been a hell of a dry spell, Sam. You need to cut me some slack.”

“Try a fifteen-year-long dry spell,” Sam said, dryly.

I laughed. “Not completely dry,” I said, thinking about the summer before.

Sam poked the side of my butt with her toe.

“Seriously, Sam,” I said, “Brad and me… we’re just going to be friends.” And then, because I had been wondering about my feelings for Rigo and had made up my mind concerning him as well, I said, “Rigo, too.”

“Rigo?” Sam asked.

My brow furrowed. “I guess I forgot to tell you about Rigo.”

Sam frowned. “Tell me now.”

So I did, and afterward, she looked… disappointed. “So you liked that?” she asked. “Having sex in the john like that?”

I frowned. “Don’t make it sound like that, Sam. Besides, I like Rigo. And he is damn good.”

“How much do you like him? How much does he like you?”

“Sam,” I said, exasperated. “I’m not in love with him. I like him; just like him, OK? And I’m not in love with Brad either. They aren’t like Jason.” I said it, and then looked away. I’d never again have what I had with Jason. I knew that. But it was still hard not to measure everyone against him. “Jason’s not even like Jason anymore,” I murmured.

Sam’s blue eyes studied me in the golden glow of late afternoon. I smiled. “Why don’t I just love you and have boyfriends on the side,” I suggested. “That’ll work.”

Sam frowned and she looked away. “You aren’t like that, Timmy. Not down inside.” And then she said softly, as if her mind was far away, “I’d rather you fall in love with someone else than be like that.”

“Like what?” I asked.

She glanced back at me. “Like other guys.”

. . . . .

The first of June fell on a Thursday that year, and that was when the month’s lease started for Brad’s family on the cabin. However, his parents and sisters weren’t planning on going there until Saturday. Somehow, Brad talked his mom into running us out there that Thursday, with the promise that we would get everything ‘ready’ for them.

She delivered us to the cabin just before lunch that day, along with a first load of groceries, linen, and household supplies. We took a tour of the cabin, and she gave us a list of chores to do; cleaning, making beds, making sure dishes were clean. And then she left.

Brad and I stood inside the door, watching her drive away, and when her car disappeared down the drive, he took my hand. “For months,” he said, his eyes still on the drive, his face suddenly flushed, “I’ve been thinking about that first time you kissed me.”

I nodded slightly, slipping my arm behind his back. I pulled him to me, and Brad tilted his head back. Our lips met and he melted into me. He was already hard and I felt it against my own thickening cock. I opened my mouth over his and we wrapped our arms over each other as the kiss began to warm. “We’ll go at your speed, bro,” I said, taking a breath before plunging in again with my tongue.

By Friday morning, we had ‘tried stuff’, all sorts of stuff, and I had Brad on his back, legs out to the sides as I moved inside him. “Swivel your hips to meet me when I thrust,” I said, throatily.

Brad complied, and I watched his slim body make Ss in time to my pumping. He wasn’t zero-body-fat lean like Jason, but he had muscles for a little guy, and they flexed in his shoulders, chest, and belly as he moved. I laid the palm of my hand onto the underside of his cock and balls, rubbing them gently to our rhythm.

“How does it feel?” I asked. “Starting to feel OK?”

Brad’s eyes lifted from where he’d been watching my belly and hips. He nodded, heavy lidded.

“Check this out,” I said, lifting my hand from his cock. I lowered myself to him, wrapping my arms under his back, rubbing my belly on him. His smaller frame fitted mine well, and our eyes were level as I lowered my lips to his. We kissed and then pressed the sides of our cheeks together as we made our bodies into a tight ball.

I pumped, and Brad moved with me. Morning sun streamed through the windows. Outside, a mocking bird sang close by. But inside, the cabin was quiet except for our moans.

It took a while because we had been making a lot of love since the day before. Our bodies grew warm, and we began to sweat. I started making bigger plunges and Brad writhed freely under me.

“Oh, dude,” Brad whispered beside my ear. “I’m pretty sure that I’m gay.”

Afterward, as we lay, catching our breath and going mellow, I left a leg and arm over him and snuggled on to Brad, but Brad didn’t snuggle back.

“You don’t like to cuddle much, do you?” I asked.

He glanced at me and shrugged.

“You mind if I do it?” I asked.

He smiled. “Knock yourself out.”

I dug my fingers into his ribs and instantly turned us into a ball of fifteen-year-old arms and legs.

I believe that it is somewhat natural for guys who have sex together a few times to start to have feelings for each other. Brad and I did… some. We had to be careful how we behaved in front of his family. And when we had sex at night in the cabin, we had to be quiet so that his parents and three younger sisters couldn’t hear us.

But his dad spent weeknights in town because he was still working, and his mom and sisters were often out doing things. So we had opportunities in the cabin, and plenty more in the woods around the lake, not to mention a time or two in the lake itself.

The sex was fun, but it was often furtive and lacked the tenderness and intimacy I had with Jason and had hoped for again. All of it finally began to wear thin by Wednesday of the next week. Two guys can get tired of each other. They can even get tired of the sex… briefly.

Brad and I went the whole of that Wednesday without sex, and we stayed apart from each other, spending time with his sisters or alone. That night, we played cards with his family and then went down to the dock and just talked about things… school, friends. I told him about Jason, and about Sammy.

He told me that everyone was sure that Sammy and I were boyfriend-girlfriend and probably having sex. I told him we weren’t.

“I’ve heard she won’t go out with anybody else but you,” Brad said. “If like you say, she knows that you’re gay, and if she’s not interested in other guys… maybe she’s lesbian,” he suggested.

I laughed. “She’s not lesbian, believe me.”

Brad cocked an eyebrow. “So you guys have had sex?”

I shook my head. “Not like you’re thinking.” I said.

“How then?” he asked.

I frowned. “That’s between Sammy and me,” I said. Somehow, it just didn’t seem right to tell Brad about that. Sam was my best friend; and some things are just between best friends.

Brad shrugged. “She’s hot, Tim. If she’s not lesbian, sooner or later, some guy’s going to get to her.”

I frowned, and then realized that Brad was watching me. He smiled and lay back on the dock. “There are more stars out here than in town,” he said.

I lay back beside him and looked up at the sky. It was clear enough even to see the Milky Way. “Yeah,” I agreed.

I liked Brad, just for who he was. On Thursday, we had fun, just water skiing and exploring around the lake. That afternoon, when he stopped on a trail above the cabin and asked if I wanted to sixty-nine, I said sure.

We did it. Rested. And then hiked some more.

I ended up spending two weeks with Brad instead of just one. The sex stayed casual and fun and I got used to not holding Brad at night like I had hoped to. I just accepted the relationship for what it was. We became friends.

. . . . .

I returned home, figuring that Brad and I would be getting it on again. But I was smart enough to realize that ours would be only a friendship. I think Rigo, based on our john experience, had more romantic feelings for me.

“Well?” Sam challenged when we sat together on her porch steps the next morning. “Have you fallen in love with Brad?”

I shook my head. “But we’re friends now.”

Sam snorted. “I guess so.”

I glanced at her. “Don’t be jealous, Sam. We’re just friends.”

She glanced at me and frowned. “I’m not jealous of you and Brad,” she said with a pout. “Just of the sex you’re having.”

I reeled back. “Sammy! Damn!”

“So?” she demanded. “Girl’s get horny, too.” She stared off down the street. “I’m going to find a boy friend this fall.”

I shifted, uncomfortably. It wasn’t just that I wasn’t happy with the thought of Sam having sex with guys – I was unhappy with it – I was more unhappy thinking about her spending time with someone other than me.

Wrapping my arms around me knees, I rested my chin on them, thinking. “I’ll be sad, Sam,” I said, “if you fall in love with some guy, and I lose my best friend.”

. . . . .

Dottie had never forgotten Max’s promise to show us mountains, and she had been determined for some time to do so. She invited Jason to go as well, but he had a job now, and other ‘interests’ in Houston.

But I was excited about it. The trip would be my first time out of the state, my first time to see mountains and maybe even my first chance to see snow.

As always, Dottie treated me like her son, and I slept in sleeping shorts in the same motel rooms with her and Sam on the way out; them in their bed, me in mine. Neither Sam nor I had our licenses yet, so Dottie drove, and Sam and I napped, played games, talked, sang songs, and listened to music, side-by-side for hours.

My memories of that car trip are mainly of Sam smiling; and of being happy myself. Dottie had fun, too, singing along with us, enjoying our games.

We had a cabin in the mountains for two weeks, and after a day or two to acclimate to the altitude, Sam and I began to get out, leaving early in the mornings and often returning late. I was grateful that Sam wasn’t like other girls because for those two weeks we did everything together, and she was as physically up to it and as much fun as any guy would have been. We hiked and climbed mountains. We rode horses on trail rides. A young guy taught us how to fly fish. We rented bikes and rode up into Rocky Mountain National park. And at night, we built fires and Dottie fixed hot suppers.

We made Dottie go with us for white water rafting, but other than that, she was content to sit on the porch reading, or go into town to the tourist shops. She dragged us along to the shops when we ate out at night. That was when Sam went candle crazy.

She’d never been into candles before, but began collecting them on that trip, and started lighting them in the cabin at night. She bought a number of decorative candles to take home.

I remember a night, halfway through the second week, when Sam and I were sitting on the couch with a juniper scented candle close by. Dottie was reading a novel in a comfortable chair. The night was cool, but we had a good fire going. Sam lay down on the couch, the back of her head in my lap, and she closed her eyes; exhausted from a long hike up Twin Sisters Mountain earlier that day.

Her long hair splayed out over my lap, red and gold in the light of the fire, like a rich velvet. I stroked it; smoothing her hair back from her forehead. She smiled without opening her eyes, and I thought she really was the most beautiful girl I ever knew.

I thought back to my two weeks with Brad and now my two weeks with Sammy, and there was no comparison between the casual fun I had with Brad, and the incredible days I was having with Sam. She really was my best friend, and everything we did together was more than fun… each little thing was something shared. From the corner of my eye, I saw Dottie glance at us and smile.

If only Jason would move back to San Antonio, or if only I could find a guy I could love like Sammy… that would be incredible. For a brief moment, I wondered about going straight; I wondered about Sam and me. But I liked guys; I needed a guy.

And Sam had one fatal flaw – she belonged to that same fucked-up race to which my step sisters, step mom, and every other ditzy female belonged. Sam was different alright. But my natural aversion to females would always be an unspoken hindrance between us.

For me, it wasn’t like for some gay guys who long for an older man in their life. I simply wanted the easy companionship, the intimacy, and equality I felt with another guy; the ability to feel like we could understand each other, right off. And yes, I liked guys’ bodies.

I closed my eyes sadly that night, because I needed a guy, and I hated to hurt Sam.

. . . . .

The next day, Sam and I took a hiking trail from Endo Valley up toward Mount Ypsilon. An early morning rain passed briefly through, and then the sun came out. I took off my damp shirt, letting it dangle from my side as we climbed. Sam was in the lead, and when she turned and saw me shirtless, she frowned, and pulled off her shirt, fastening it to her side. She wore no bra.

“Sammy!” I fussed.

“What?” she demanded, pausing to face me. “We haven’t seen anyone all morning, and no one’s likely to pass us. I don’t like a wet shirt any more than you do.”

My eyes dropped to her breasts, just as firm and perfectly shaped as the summer before. I swallowed and shook my head. “Damn, Sam. If we do run into any guys, they’re going to cream their pants.”

She grinned and turned to start back up the trail. I followed. But then she stopped. “My pants are wet, too,” she said.

“You’re kidding,” I said. “You aren’t going to…”

She pulled off her shorts and panties, working off and on her boots, one at a time.

With a shake of my head, I did the same; trying not to stare at Sam’s small, red pubic patch, or her long legs, flat belly, and fleshy white butt. We climbed steadily, and once, caught a glimpse of people far below on the trail. I didn’t think they saw us.

We came out on a ridge, and stood, catching our breath. Sam came up beside me, taking my hand. “It’s fun watching you hike naked,” she said, and then glanced down at my crotch. “It swings.”

I smiled, but then felt my cock growing. Sam noticed, and reaching down, took my cock into her hand. “Just once, Timmy,” she said softly, “could we do what we did last summer?”

My cock was rapidly growing hard. I nodded. “But where? There are people coming up behind us on the trail.”

We glanced around. There wasn’t a square inch that didn’t slope up or down; not one place that wasn’t visible to the trail… except that up above us there looked to be a flat rock. I took Sam’s hand and we quickly climbed up, working our way around, until we came out on to a level slab of granite. Leaning over the edge, we could see the trail. But if we lay down on the rock, no one could see us from below, and above us was only the mountain and the clear blue sky.

Sam pushed me down, and onto my back. Bending over, she pressed her lips to mine as she maneuvered her body over mine. And then she knelt astride me. “Oh,” she murmured. “The rock is hard on my knees.”

We arranged our shorts and shirts under her knees and the back of my head, and then with only our boots on, Sam straddled me and lowered her mound to the underside of my shaft. She leaned forward over me, hands on my shoulders, and we began to rub the way we had the summer before.

. . . . .

Sam was resting with her head on my shoulder; the two of us still in nothing but our boots, when the hikers who had been behind us on the trail, appeared higher up the mountain. They spotted us on our rock. I heard laughing, and some hoots, but I kept my eyes closed to slits and pretended to be sleeping. Sam was resting, and she felt good on my side.

The other hikers eventually left, and then I did open my eyes, gazing up into the dark, cobalt blue of the sky. In the distance, an eagle cried, and I could hear the sound of a faint breeze coming up the mountain. It passed over us where we lay protected on our rock.

Sam was almost as tall, though more slender than Jason. Her naked body lying on mine didn’t feel less comfortable. In all the world, Sam was the only one left whom I loved… well other than Dottie. Jason was gone. Brad wasn’t exactly lovable. Rigo might be, but I wasn’t sure we’d have much in common.

I loved Sam. And so I held her. I’d work out how to get my boyfriend later.

Emails are always appreciated at btomandback@hotmail.com