Michaels Secret Love

By moc.loa@KS96nitsuJ

Published on Apr 26, 2001

Gay

April 23, 2001


Michael's Secret Love Chapter 15


Written By: Justin Case Edited By: Wayne


Disclaimer: This story contains graphic language and sexual content. You must be of legal age to read this material. The work is the creation of the author and is fiction; any similarity to actual persons, places, or events is coincidental. The author, his editors, and the publisher accept no responsibilities for the actions of the reader of this material. -c-2001 Justin Case/Justin's Corner Publishing.


SoapBox: Hello my peeps, how's it going? I trust I find you in good spirits. I want to thank you all for your constant support. I have appreciated all the letters and messages I have been getting. The kind things you say to me, humble me. I had no idea that my writing would be so well received. I hope I never let you all down.

If you want to write me my address is Justin69SK@aol.com . I have a few messenger services you can reach me on if you'd like to chat, on AIM JustinCaseBcuz is my screen name, on MSN my address is JustinCase69SK@hotmail.com and on ICQ Justin Case. My web site can be found at http://JustinsCorner.homestead.com and on Saturday nights at 10 PM EST, I can be found in my chat room located in http://talkcity.com/ my room name is Justin's Corner. If you don't have any of the services I subscribe too, why don't you meet me Saturday night for a chat?

I am now accepting other's material for posting onto my web site. If you're interested in having me review your work for consideration send it along. I would be honored.

Thanks.

As Always, Just, Justin


The next few days were uneventful in Covington. The cold winter months were rapidly giving way to the warmth of the spring. Everywhere I went people would stop me and tell me what a fine job I had done in the Spring Concert. I had no idea that there were so many people who lived in our small town. If I told you, the outpouring of compliments and the notoriety of being a celebrity of sorts moved me, it would be an understatement. I was proud of my talent and who I was.

I began to experience an inner turmoil. I couldn't seem to shake the notion that people wouldn't be so receptive to me if they knew the truth. I figured I would just have to live with it, it was the way things were. It gnawed at me something fierce.

James and I began to have problems between us. He became distant. He was so afraid his family would find out we were gay. Eugene and I became closer; he was upset because he didn't have anyone. He spent most of his time with me after school. James began staying home and avoiding me.

When Sally Pedneault asked me if I would take her to the prom, I knew that I had to do something. I worried that, if I didn't do or say something, I would have to spend the rest of my life hiding from people. I was more upset with the thought that I might loose James. I speculated on the fact that Eugene had tried to kill himself, and why. I realized all these things could be avoided, if only people knew who I was.

It was a Wednesday night, about eight o'clock. I was alone in my bedroom, just me and that fucking tree. I just had to get rid of it. If one more leaf fell on me while I was sleeping, I promised myself I'd throw the whole damn thing out the window. Eugene had just left, he was crying again. My heart broke for him. I remembered that Mr. Stormley had told me he knew someone else who was gay in the school. I knew there had to be more than just the three of us, I couldn't stand to see Eugene go through his anguish anymore.

I grabbed my address book and looked for Mr. Stormley's home number; he gave it to me just days before. He told me to call him anytime, night or day, if I had anything at all that I needed to talk to him about. I decided I needed someone to talk to; someone who could guide me. I was counting on his experience to help me through what seemed insurmountable to me.

"Hello," Mr. Murray's voice came through the telephone.

"Hello, Mr. Murray, it's me, Michael. May I speak to Mr. Stormley?"

"Is everything all right, Michael?"

I began to cry I couldn't hold my tears back any longer. "No, it's not. Could I come over and talk with you and Mr. Stormley?" I sobbed.

"Do you need us to come pick you up? Where are you, Michael?" Mr. Murray asked, his voice was full of concern.

"No, it's OK, I'd rather walk. I need some time to clear my head."

"Come right over, Michael, we'll be here."

I hung my phone up, and glanced at myself in the mirror mounted on my closet door. I was a mess. I hadn't had a haircut and my hair was retaliating, I hated having hair that had its own mind and did what ever it wanted. My eyes were red and puffy from crying, so I figured I'd splash some cold water on my face.

It was dark out when I headed to my teacher's home. The nights were still cold; although it was May and we had temperatures in the seventies during the day, it would get down into the thirties at night. I was glad I had decided to wear a jacket. The wind bit at my face as I wound my way through the streets towards their home. I thought about all the things that were bothering me. I was still upset about what I had let Eugene do to me that night in the car. I was hurt by the fact James was too afraid to be with me. I wondered what would have happened if Eugene had succeeded in his suicide attempt. I even thought about how Sally Pedneault was offended when I told her I wouldn't take her to the prom. I knew that if I took her it would lead her on, and she would be one more person that I would hurt by being who I was. Yet, on the other hand, she was hurt because I turned her down and couldn't really give her a good explanation. I was in a no-win situation from my point of view.

It didn't take me long to reach Mr. Stormley's home. As I approached, I noticed him standing at the large bay window in the front room. I took a few deep breaths, to settle myself down. I didn't want to be some blubbering kid, bawling my eyes out like a baby. I knew, though, that if I had, he would have understood. Since Mr.Stormley had made his confession to me and I to him, I felt a bond between us. He would never pass judgment on me. I had nothing to fear from him or Mr. Murray.

I didn't even get to knock on the door; it opened before I got to the porch. Mr. Murray was standing just inside, one hand on the doorknob as he extended his other to me. I took his hand in mine; it was warm and inviting. I walked into their home and was impressed with the furnishings. I don't know what I had expected, but the home was decorated tastefully.

The living room was a large room with a full wall dedicated to a red brick fireplace in which was a small fire. The floor was wide pine board with an oval shaped rug in the center; the rug had bands of alternating brown and beige colors . The couch and two chairs all matched in a plaid fabric of orange, black, brown, and beige. The wall on the opposite side of the fireplace, to my left as I walked into the room, was a bookcase with several shelves and cabinets. It was overstuffed with books and other literature, as was the coffee table in the center of the room. There was a stereo, but no television in the room. I noticed several plants in the window and pictures on the walls.

I know this sounds silly, but I was surprised that their house was like anyone else's. I mean, I don't know what I expected, but I was thinking that because they were gay it would be different. It was precisely at that moment I knew that I knew nothing about being gay. I had fallen victim to all the things I had been exposed to and had no clue about the reality of my lifestyle. I wondered why I had to have a `lifestyle' and couldn't just have a life.

"Michael, are you all right, son. Has something happened?" Mr. Stormley asked in his baritone voice, that reverberated off his own walls the same as it did at school.

"I am just so confused and upset. I needed to talk to someone," I explained.

"I'll put on some coffee and tea. I know we have some pastries, too. Would you like that, Michael, are you hungry?" Mr. Murray asked as he walked towards the kitchen, not waiting for my answer.

Mr. Stormley took me into the dining room and we sat at the table. Mr. Murray brought a plate of pastries in and set it on the table. The three of us sat at the table and talked about everything that was bothering me. We shared stories and secrets with each other. It felt good being able to talk about the things that worried me with people who understood. Mr. Murray kept going into the kitchen to bring out more tea or coffee, and pastries; I had six turnovers.

They told me about a group who met in Portland. It was for teenagers who were gay. Mr. Stormley went on to tell me that he was one of the adult advisors. He and Mr. Murray had begun the group some years before to offer support and education to teens who needed it. Mr. Stormley told me that when he was in college, a friend of his had been beaten to death for being gay. He was enraged, because the police did nothing to find the gang who committed the murder. Mr. Murray pointed to a picture of a young man which hung on the dining room wall and told me it was of the young friend.

Mr. Murray explained to me that I owed no one any explanation for why I do, or don't do, things. He let me know that it was OK not to go to the prom with Sally, but he also told me that I could go if I wanted. He told me, that while I had to be honest; I didn't have to be revealing. He told me, that if I wanted to go to the prom, to go, but explain to Sally it was only as a friend. It was up to me to make sure that my feelings were known, and an explanation wasn't necessary. He went on to say, if Sally didn't respect that, then that was her problem, not mine. I told him I wanted to go to the prom with James, but knew that wasn't possible.

"Unfortunately, Michael, in today's society, here in Covington, that would be a very brave, but unwise thing to do." Mr. Stormley said.

The two went on to explain that people were beginning to wake up to the fact that being gay was not something people chose, but was determined at birth. They told me, that for the last twenty- five years, study after study indicated being gay was determined anywhere from birth to six years of age. States around the country were beginning to make laws that were favorable to gays, as Vermont did. It was a beginning, they told me, but still a long way from being able to be free with who we were. Ignorance and intolerance would take a long time to overcome. They both expressed concern that it wouldn't happen in our lifetime, but hoped it would in the generation to come.

They asked me to talk with James and ask him to come with me to a meeting. They told me that they would give him a grade on a writing assignment about the group. This way he could tell his parents he had an extra credit project to do. Mr. Murray told me about another group called Parents and Friends of Lesbians and Gays (PFLAG). PFLAG also met in Portland. He suggested that some time down the road, we could get James' parents to one of their meetings.

"We need to take this one step at a time. There is no need to tell James' parents until he is ready and feels safe," Mr. Stormley put in plain words.

Mr. Murray laughed a little when I told him about Eugene, and what he had done in the back of James' car. I was totally embarrassed.

"Michael, for crying out loud, one moment of indiscretion does not define you. You're young and temptation got the best of you. You really can't let that bother you, let it go. Accept the fact that Eugene loves you. Now he knows you're spoken for and I don't think he'll disrespect that." Murray said, and made it sound so trivial. I realized that it was.

Finally, they told me that if Eugene came to a meeting, he might meet someone. They both smiled at each other when they told me that. I got the impression that they knew more than they were letting on. I have to say, for the short time I spent with them, I was happier. I felt more able to deal with what felt so burdensome before I talked with them. I really began to see things in a different light. We decided that I should go to the next meeting. I would talk with James and Eugene about going, it was on Friday night, they told me.

Mr. Stormley insisted on driving me home. I was glad he did, I remembered how cold it had been when I walked over. He told me he was proud of me for being such a caring person. He said that it took a lot of courage to be able to tell him what I had, and was thankful that I felt comfortable enough to do it. He reminded me that, if I ever had anything at all to talk about, he didn't want me to hesitate to call on him or Mr. Murray. It was a quick drive and I thanked him before I got out of his car.

I awoke the next morning, and did my usual inspection of my body in the mirror. I had to make sure I was still me. I always love looking at myself in the morning, because I know that I'll look better after I get out of the bathroom. It's like the before and after pictures you see on commercials. I felt a thousand times better. I figured I'd take my shower and get dressed, then walk up to meet James. I knew I was going to tell him everything I had learned and hoped it would ease his fears. I was a little apprehensive, but I had faith, faith in our love.

I left the house a little earlier than I did most mornings; I wanted to have some extra time to talk with James. I crossed through the Shannuck's yard and Mrs. Shannuck was outside having her morning cigarette. I nodded to her and smiled.

I stood on James' porch; my smile stared back at me from the window on the door as I waited for someone to answer it. I saw my lover as he came to the door. He smiled back at me; I had missed his smile the past several days. I remembered thinking; I hadn't smiled much either, until that morning. I had been so consumed with all my problems, I hadn't been very good company, either.

"Morning Bro, you're early. Come on in, everyone's gone. My father had a church breakfast this morning." James beamed; his eyes had that devilish look in them. I knew what he was really saying.

"Alone, huh? Just you and I?"

"Yep, yep," he chuckled and pulled me into the house. He put his arms around me and gave me a passionate kiss.

"What was that for?" I asked, a little startled.

"Well, you've been such a shit the last few days, I thought I'd break the ice." James said and smiled.

"Excuuuuse Me? I've been the shit? I beg your pardon. I thought it was you worrying about being found out, and what your father would do." I said, somewhat astonished.

"Well, it's like you said. We don't have to tell him anything until it concerns him. No one has ever suspected anything about us, so why should that change. I've been doing a lot of thinking, Michael. You're right, I have been afraid and worrying about it, but when I just saw you with that huge friggin' grin of yours, I realized it's all worth it. I love you too much to let you go." He said so tenderly.

"I love you, too, James. I really do." Tears began to run down my cheeks, tears of joy.

"Come on up to my room, we have a few minutes, and I'll show you how much I love you." With that devilish look again, the one I couldn't resist.

We bounded up the stairs to his bedroom; I was behind him and watched his cute butt as he climbed the steps two at a time. I was so happy to be with him, I didn't mind if we missed the bus, either. I don't like `quickies.' After all, it wasn't that far to walk to school. We only took the bus because of the new rule that my father hated so much.

I watched him as he slowly undressed, and I followed his lead. His body was so well defined, every muscle on his chest and stomach. His smooth skin looked so tantalizing, his hard dick standing straight up against his fine pubic hairs. The large full sac hanging below his prick, against his smooth white thighs, drew my attention.

I got on my knees, naked in front of him and began to suck on his balls. I pulled them into my mouth and felt them with my tongue and lips. I could smell his sweet fragrance as my hand reached for his hard dick. I lightly stroked his member while I sucked his grape-sized testicles into my mouth.

"Let's get on the bed." James said, reaching down to my shoulders and pulling me up.

I watched as he lay back onto his bed. He shook his head to get his blonde hair out of his eyes. His blue eyes seemed to sparkle when they were unveiled from under his bangs. He pulled me on top of him; his body was soft and warm. His cock was rock hard and as big as I had ever seen it. I knew he was full of desire; then, so was I.

I lay on top of him and rubbed my dick against his. I kissed him deeply and fervently, while I ran my hands up and down his sides, feeling his smooth, soft, taut, skin. I felt as if I were going to burst. I could feel his hot, hard, swollen cock as it rubbed against mine. I moved one of my hands to feel his balls. I gently massaged his sac full of cum, and pulled at the hairs that grew on it. I reached my fingers below his sac and probed at the skin and hair between his balls and his hole.

James began pinching and rubbing my tits, paying specially attention to my nipples. He spread his legs and put them up on my shoulders. Then he grabbed my cock and guided its head to his waiting ass. He rubbed the head of my dick and the pre-cum all around his hole. He raised his hips up and pushed my cock head into his puckered hole.

"Fuck me, Michael, I need you now." He whispered to me.

I had never done it without lubrication, and worried about hurting him. He put his hands on my ass and pulled me towards him. He wanted it, so I let my worries go as I pushed my dick into him. I felt the warm walls of his ass as they grabbed my cock. I pushed myself in as far as I could; I felt my balls slap against his. I kissed him again and sucked his tongue into my mouth. I ran my right hand down to his huge cock and jerked it while I fucked him.

I felt his cock as it began to twitch, his asshole tightening around my dick. I knew he was going to cum. I began to fuck him faster so I could cum with him. I pounded my hard long dick into him as deeply as I could, slowly pulled it back to where I almost came out of him, and then drilled into him again. I felt my balls as they began to ache for release. I felt his hot jets of spewing cum as they shot out of his dick up my stomach and chest. I felt his ass as the walls tightened around my prick with every shot of cum. I came a few seconds later; shot after shot pumped from my rod buried deep in his ass. I felt the cum as it oozed out of him, I reached my hand under his ass and scooped some of the fluid into my hand. I rubbed it on his chest and mixed my cum with his, then I pulled him close to me so that my chest rubbed against his.

We stayed in the bed for a little while, contented to be with each other. We decided to walk to school. We finally got up and got dressed. We would only be about a half-hour late, but it was worth it.

Walking to school, I told James about what Mr. Murray and Mr. Stormley had told me, and he agreed to go to the meeting. Later in the day we talked to Eugene, he was especially interested when I told him he might meet someone there. Our lives began to settle down again as we learned to accept ourselves for who we are.

The five of us began going to the meetings every Friday night starting that very week. I met several other kids in the group whom I knew from school. We talked about our fears and experiences with each other. Mr. Stormley and Mr. Murray showed us movies, and brought in literature for us to read and discuss. I learned that I was not alone with many of the thoughts I had. James did, too. Oh, and Eugene, he met someone, Charles. They seem to be in love.

James hasn't told his parents yet, and neither have I. We have time, so for right now, we just remain in love. I have learned too, that secrets can be dangerous. One of the members of the group tried to live life as if he were straight, denying who he was to himself. He got into a relationship with a girl. He told us how hard it was to break up with her. He didn't want to hurt her, or cause her pain, but his own pain was too great and he didn't treat her well. We learned that, although we didn't have to share our secrets with everyone, we couldn't live with lies, either. The best thing about the meetings was that we learned from others and didn't have to make the same mistakes they did. I think the most valuable thing I learned was that these kinds of groups meet all over. They can be found in most telephone directories. Therefore, no matter where James and I go, we can always find a support group near by.

For the first time in my life, I can look forward to everything. I no longer have to feel guilty about who I am. It is OK, and I will be OK. James and I have decided to finish high school and then go on to college before we decide to make a lifetime commitment, but we are engaged. Our love won't be a secret forever.

THE END OF THE STORY THE BEGINNING OF MY LIFE


Well, there you have it. I hope you take the lessons from the story and apply them to your own life if you're struggling with your sexuality. Go to the nearest church, if you can't find anything listed in the phone book, for a support group. Ask a clergyman, they are sworn to confidentiality; I assure you, help is there. Living in fear and shame is not healthy. Please, if you are in pain. release your secret in a safe environment. If you don't find a clergyman, or can't find something in your phone book, call the nearest mental health clinic and ask them for information on groups that meet for gay teens. I am sure they will oblige you, and the phone call can be anonymous. Help is only a phone call away.

Thank you, all for following the story.

Thank you, Wayne for the fine editing job.

Until we meet again, As Always, Just, Justin <>


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