New Kid in Town

New Kid in Town

by ds elliot

This is the story of two male high school students who find each other.

There may be explicit sex scenes depicted in this story. If you don't wish to read stories about gay relationships or gay sex, if you aren't old enough to read such stories, or if accessing and/or reading such stories is illegal in your area... please navigate to another site and stop reading this story now.

The author retains all rights to this story. You may not publish this story in any form on any site or link this story to any other site. Copyright 2004.

As always, I sincerely appreciate hearing from those reading my work. Please share your comments, suggestions, and constructive criticism with me at: dselliot28@yahoo.com

And now to this story...

I'm Paul Hawthorne III. That's right... Paul Hawthorne the third. That name and a token will get you on the bus. Aside from that, it doesn't mean too much. I guess it was easier to pick a name everyone already knew... easier than thinking up something original anyway. Oh well, what's in a name? I'd be the same guy no matter what name I had, and just being my father's only son would still have made me the perpetual new kid in town. This is the twelfth time I've held that title in the the 17 years of my life. We move around a lot. Why do we move so much? It's my father's jobs pure and simple. Until five years ago he was in the military. He was attached to the diplomatic wing of the government. As a result his job required that he be stationed in several different locations around the world. He met and married my mother while stationed in Australia. She left him a few years later after moving from Germany to France. I don't really know why she left, but I think it had a lot to do with always being in a strange place where the customs and language wasn't familiar. I say that only because there were a few times when I considered running away for those very reasons. Suffice it to say that mom left, and dad raised me... well, he actually had less to do with raising me than did a string of housekeepers/nannies and personal assistants assigned to him as a result of his rank.

I don't know exactly what my dad did in the military. He could never talk much about his job. As a young child I fantasized about spying and other similar 'James Bond' like adventures. As it turns out that wasn't too far from reality. He was in the business of information gathering -- another term for spying on both friendly and unfriendly governments. Sadly though his position lacked the most exciting parts of my fantasies -- the bad guys lurking around every corner, the cool cars that transformed themselves into weapons, and the scantily clad babes attempting to seduce my father while plying him with martinis... shaken not stirred (at the time I didn't know what the hell that was, but it sure sounded cool). So we moved around a lot. I've lived in Australia twice. We were in New Zealand for a short time. We lived in Germany three different times and France for a year. We also moved to England for a time. There was a two year stint in Japan. Oh, and we also lived in Washington, DC.

As a kid moving to all of these different places wasn't so difficult. I suppose I thought all families did this. I didn't really have any other view of life in those early years. It also seemed that as a kid I was able to adapt better than adults, especially with the different languages. We didn't live any one place long enough for me to become completely fluent in their native tongue, but I quickly and easily learned enough to survive. I can't say that I hated all the moving and traveling we did when I was young. My dad always treated each move like it was some great adventure we were undertaking. His excitement caused me to be equally as excited if not even more excited and anxious for the pending move. Later on I learned that my dad's excitement was simply a ploy to get me excited so I wouldn't try to fight or resist the move. We never seemed to live any place long enough to form deep attachments to people or places. I eventually had friends in each country, but none were ever best friends/soul mates like so many kids seem to find in their early years. At the time I didn't realize those relationships existed so didn't feel bad about not having one. Dad's personal assistants always moved with us so it wasn't like I didn't know someone in the new country. During those years while dad was in the military, we often lived in the embassy compound or very close to it. There were usually other kids there or close by, but often it seemed those kids were either older or younger. We knew each other, but never became really close. I was probably closer to dad's personal assistants than anyone else. I remember viewing them as playmates when I was small. Their job seemed to be to occupy and entertain me so dad could work. The many housekeepers were an extension of that as well. They fed me, cleaned me, and entertained me. In most of the foreign countries where a language barrier existed, the housekeeper was also my primary instructor as I learned the basics of the new language.

When dad retired from the military, he took a position with the company who manufactured much of the sophisticated electronic equipment he used. His new job in the civilian world didn't lessen the travel. The first tour was a three year stay in Germany selling some of the company's products to our allies. For nearly the last two years we lived in Washington, DC where dad sold the company's products to our own military and other groups interested in gathering information. And just last week we moved to his suburb of Los Angeles. Dad had a new position within the company. He was now a Vice President of the spy business division. This would be his home base. He would still travel, but usually never longer than two weeks at a time. As we packed up our personal items for the move, it occurred to me that this would be the last time I'd have to do this. I started my senior year of high school just three weeks before. The move didn't bother me all that much. I hated Washington the most of any place we'd ever lived. I'd never been to the west coast, but I was looking forward to sun and surf. The rest was just a routine change that had been happening for years. I'd go to school. I'd do my own thing. I'd graduate and go to college. I really was looking forward to college... four years in the same place.

We landed in Los Angeles early on Thursday. Most arrangements had already been made for us. We had a house on the beach -- my one request when I'd learned of this move four weeks earlier. When we got to the house it was furnished -- nothing unusual about that from my past experiences. Dad's assistant had all of the necessary forms for him to complete and sign so I could register for school on Friday. His assistant took me to the school where all of the paperwork was processed. Before I left the school, I had a class schedule and would start bright and early Monday morning. The rest of Friday and that weekend was spent getting all settled in to this new house and exploring the area.

Dad took me to the local mall on Saturday. He usually only wanted to do this when he was feeling guilty for yet another move. I'd learned long ago to relish these trips because there seemed to be no end to what he'd spend to assuage his guilt. By the time we left I had a closet full of new clothes as well as some other items I just had to have.

Dressed in my new California clothes, I headed to school Monday morning. Each student was assigned a homeroom where the school day began. I found mine. After giving some paperwork to the teacher I was told to take the open desk in the back of the room. Once seated the guy next to me said 'Hey...' and then introduced himself (Bobby Winton) and asked my name. At first I thought he hadn't gotten the memo about not talking to the new guy in class. This had never happened before. It usually took at least three days or more before someone would be brave enough to talk to a new kid in school. It was nice really. We spent the next 30 minutes talking about me, the school, him, and my class schedule. As it turned out we had two classes together -- first period English and fifth period Civics. In addition we also shared the same lunch period. We walked to our shared class together as we continued to talk. Bobby seemed to know everyone along the way to class. He was constantly interrupting our conversation to say 'Hi' or chat briefly with another student. As we walked in the classroom just prior to the bell, I handed the teacher the required paperwork and followed Bobby to a seat next to his. Once the class was settled, the teacher asked Bobby to introduce his new friend (me). Bobby stood... he told the class my name, where I was born, some of the cities I'd lived in over the years, where I transferred from, and 'for all the ladies' that I was single and anxious to meet a nice California girl. That brought a round of laughter and some snide comments from others in the classroom. The instructor asked Bobby to help me get up to date with the class since I'd arrived two weeks after the start of the school year. Bobby agreed to be of any help he could. I was surprised on two counts. First... I didn't realize I'd told Bobby so much in the relatively short time we'd talked -- and even more amazed that he was actually listening to me. Second... I was shocked that he'd actually agreed to help me get caught up with the class. I'd changed schools more than once during the course of a school year. No one ever offered to help the new guy get caught up. My past experience had been that the teacher would assign some unattractive girl who had nothing better to do with her Friday nights but study to help out the new guy.

As we left first period, Bobby told me he'd see me at lunch. During third period I was ready for lunch. I was hoping to see Bobby, but more than that I was just plain hungry. When the bell rang signaling the end of the period, I spent a few additional minutes after class with the teacher before heading out the door. I was pleasantly surprised to see Bobby waiting for me outside the door. We walked to the cafeteria together comparing notes about classes and teachers. After we got food we joined a table with some of Bobby's friends. He introduced me to the group with sincere enthusiasm -- giving brief details on my travels. During lunch I learned more about Bobby. Bobby was on the football team -- the star receiver no less. He seemed to be very popular with all the beautiful people at the school. He was definitely part of the 'in' clique -- probably a leader of the group. I'd never been part of that group -- or any group really. I'd never really been any place long enough to establish myself with one of the groups. I was a loner. I didn't have a bad personality. I wasn't anti social or lacking is social graces. I was a very long way from stupid, but not in the nerd category. My loner status was more one of convenience and circumstance. This was a great new experience for me, and I was enjoying it to the fullest.

Civics was the next to last period of the day. I already knew I'd like the class because Bobby was in it with me. As I was on my way to the class, Bobby came up behind me and put his arm around my shoulder as we walked the rest of the way to class. As I gave the teacher my paperwork, Bobby told the teacher he'd make sure I was up to date with the class. Once again we sat next to each other during class. As class was ending, Bobby told me I should come by the field to watch the football team practice. I told him I couldn't today, but I'd do that tomorrow.

I walked home after school feeling on top of the world. All that evening I could think of nothing but Bobby. He was my first friend in California... my first real friend ever. All of a sudden I missed having close friends all those years. It didn't make me sad at all. I guess I just learned what could have been. All evening I day dreamed about Bobby. He was an amazing guy. He was my size, but probably a better body. I mean I didn't think I had anything to be ashamed of as far as my body went. I wasn't buff like a weight lifter or anything, but I was in great shape. I played tennis and swam along with several years of martial arts training and more than a couple years spent learning how to box. My dad was big on self defense and always enrolled me in those types of classes from about the time I could stand on my own. I'd also done some weight lifting while in DC since that was a main passion of my dad's assistant there. We regularly went to his gym to work out. I didn't get really ripped, but I gained strength and tone from those workouts. I actually enjoyed those workouts. I found I could think/day dream while going through the mindless workout routines -- like accomplishing two different things at one time. Anyway... the whole point of all of this was Bobby! I'd already had a picture in my mind of what his body would look like... great pecs, flat stomach, washboard abs, well muscles shoulders and arms, strong legs... and a great tan. His hair was a rich dark chocolate brown -- worn on the short side with no particular style to it. He naturally had dark rather heavy eyebrows over the biggest brown eyes I'd ever seen. His face just fit his personality... warm, friendly, open. His smile showed off a perfect set of sparkling white teeth. His lips were a darker pink... full and soft (I imagined). He had great taste in clothes. What he wore brought out the best aspects of his body -- especially those jeans which really showed off that great ass and suggested plenty on the front side too.

I had never gushed over a guy before... not like this anyway. Sure, I looked plenty, but no one ever compared to Bobby. This guy had it all... great body, fantastic personality, brains, charm. If you're asking yourself if this Paul kid is gay... well, duh. I picked up on this aspect of my life several years prior. What I learned from living in various countries was that it was fine to be gay as long as no one ever knew. Some things are just better kept to one's self. No one ever asked if I was gay. No guys ever made a play for me or even hinted about any kind of sexual interest. I suppose if someone had that wasn't gross or too disgusting I'm sure I'd have tried sex by now, but that just hadn't happened. I wasn't in too much of a hurry to have sex -- well I wasn't before Bobby at least. I had two hands to take care of business -- though using the left hand was a bit like sex with a really spastic guy (my imagination again). Sitting in my room thinking about Bobby seemed to be waking up this whole other side of my being. Listen... I've had an active imagination all my life. It comes from years of being basically alone and inventing games and stories and fantasies of one sort or another -- and when I was much smaller, getting an adult to play along with my imagined scenario. This was completely different.

Dad and I had a good but boring dinner together at home. Mrs. Miller was our new housekeeper. She'd be taking care of the household chores including all the grocery shopping and cooking Monday through Friday. We'd be on our own for the weekends. It was nice to have dinner prepared and ready in the evenings. I wasn't at all concerned about the weekends. One of the many things I learned was how to cook some great meals from many different cultures. I wouldn't say that I was skilled in the kitchen, but I knew enough so I wouldn't starve in any country.

Tuesday and Wednesday were just as good as Monday had been. Bobby was great! It felt like we'd been friends forever. That Tuesday I stopped by to watch football practice. It wasn't very exciting to watch, but I could have watched Bobby for days. As practice was winding down Bobby told me to follow the team to the locker room. I did as he instructed. He pulled me inside with the team. I never felt comfortable in locker rooms. It was like putting a kid alone in a candy store. I always felt impending disaster was just around the corner for some reason. Being there talking with Bobby while the team stripped down to shower and change was distracting at best. On the positive side of things I did have several weeks worth of masturbation material as I secretly scanned the many naked bodies of teenage football players. Bobby's ass was so much better without clothes. I wanted to sit on my hands so I wouldn't just reach out to hold those two flawless globes in my hands. The front side didn't disappoint either... a nice dick, great balls, not too much hair, a treasure trail that begged the looker to follow the path from navel to dick. I'm sure I was licking my lips like a starving man at the sight of food. If I did, Bobby didn't say anything. As we left toward the parking lot, Bobby asked which car was mine. I told him I didn't have one yet so he offered a ride home. He came inside when we got there. I introduced him to my dad and showed Bobby my room. He seemed really impressed. It was a great room -- not so much for what was in it but for the view from the solid glass wall that looked over the beach and ocean only a short ways away.

Wednesday after practice Bobby joined us for dinner and spent the next couple of hours alone with me in my room as we made sure I was up to date with each of the classes we shared. It probably would have only taken 30 minutes to accomplish this task especially since I already knew I was at least with the class if not beyond where they were. The rest of the time was spent checking out my things... the computer, the stereo and CD collection, the XBOX and games, and then a quick walk out of my room to the deck then down the stairs to the backyard and then to the beach. I'd had people in my room before, but never anyone of Bobby's caliber. I've never been more excited. If I hadn't been wearing a loose fitting shirt over my jeans, I know that excitement would have been obvious.

Bobby and I were assigned to be partners for our Civics class project. The project was due four weeks from the date of assignment. I wasn't at all worried. I could do the project without Bobby's help, but the chance to work alone with Bobby was really exciting to me. I was hoping we could spend at least several hours each week 'working' on this class project. Bobby encouraged me to come to the Friday evening football game. Wild horses and mad bombers couldn't have kept me away. I had a seat at the 45 yard line just above the team benches. Bobby greeted me when the team came onto the field before the game started.

The game was an easy win for our team. Bobby played well -- making two touch downs and catching several passes as our team advanced toward the goal. I've never yelled more or for that matter taken more interest in any sporting event in my life. I watched sports, but just couldn't get that excited one way or another. This time with Bobby playing I was an instant fan -- as loud and passionate about this game as anyone anywhere. As requested, I followed the team to the locker room at the end of the game. The level of excitement even after an easy win was a joy to behold. There was plenty of back slapping and grab ass going on in all parts of the room. I talked with Bobby as he stripped down for his shower. When naked he grabbed a towel then draped his arm over my shoulders telling me he was glad I came to the game. Watching his perfect ass move as he walked toward the showers had me nearly hypnotized. I felt like I could look at nothing else. I remember thinking that I hoped I wasn't drooling. While Bobby showered I packed his football uniform and gear into his sports bag. As I picked up his jock I had a strong desire to bring it to my face just to get a sample of Bobby's concentrated scent, but I didn't. I also thought about stuffing it in my pocket to enjoy later, but I didn't do that either. By the time I had all of Bobby's things packed up, he was standing next to me dripping all over the place. He continued to dry off and dress as we talked about the game and some parties he wanted me to attend with him.

We stopped by two parties after the game. Both were pretty lame. We had a beer at each place while we talked with some of the people there. I met more new people and recognized several from school too. It was after midnight when we headed home. Bobby looked tired. He'd played hard so had a right to be tired. He dropped me at my house then drove himself home. He called Saturday morning and came by shortly after the call. His parents insisted on knowing his friends so he wanted me to come for lunch with the family. He apologized several times for asking me to do this, but I was happy to go. I wanted to know all there was to know about Bobby, and I saw this as a perfect chance to learn more.

His parents were nice people... polite and sincere. His father was a minister at a local church. His mother worked as a nurse. He had one older sister who was attending a local college and four younger brothers. It was a houseful to say the least. It wasn't noisy or anything, but there was always activity happening all around us. Lunch consisted of sandwiches and a salad with fresh fruit and glasses of milk. His parents grilled me about where I'd lived, what my parents did, how I liked school, what my grades were like, my hobbies and outside activities, and more. I'd never been through anything like this before. I didn't mind all of the questions, but I remember thinking it somehow strange and quaint all at the same time. Mark, the youngest at about 5, told me during lunch that he really liked my bright green eyes. He looked the most like Bobby so I guessed that's what Bobby must have looked like at that age. After lunch Bobby told me that his parents really seemed to like me. That made me feel good for some reason -- proud that I'd passed their test I guess. I could see why Bobby liked my house. He shared a room with one of his brothers so always seemed to have no privacy at all. His family alone packed the house, but during the time I was there a constant stream of his sibling's friends seemed to populate the place making it a bit louder and much more crowded. Having never lived with so many people in one house, it didn't seem like so much a home as it did a meeting place.

When Bobby brought me back to my house, there was a new sporty car in the driveway. I figured someone was visiting my dad so didn't think much of it. Bobby came in with me cause we were gonna chill in my room. My dad called me when he heard the door open. He was in the den on the first floor with a huge mound of paperwork in front of him. As I walked in he tossed keys to me. It seems that the sporty new car in the driveway was mine. He must have been feeling guiltier than I first thought. Bobby and I ran out of the house to check out the car. It was cooler than cool. This was my Mercedes! I couldn't believe it. I'd never asked for a car... hell, I'd never really needed one. I got my license while living in DC. I drove my dad's car there, but driving in DC was a bitch. The traffic was always bad. We lived right in town -- only about six blocks from my school so there wasn't really a need for a car. This area was so different. It seemed all the kids at school had cars. Most of those cars were decent too... no beaters or junkers sitting in that parking lot. The car was a glossy black with a light gray leather interior. It was a hard top convertible. The first thing we did was start the car and lower the top. I took Bobby on a ride through town. I really didn't know where I was going since I wasn't that familiar with the roads. Bobby gave constant instructions from the passenger seat... 'turn here' 'turn left at the next light' 'go down this street' and so on. After a few miles I pulled into a parking lot and told Bobby to trade places with me so he could drive. He was out of the car in a flash. Before he got into the driver's seat he hugged me tight and tried to lift me in the air. He managed to get me up on my tip toes, but the only think I could think about was the fact that our dicks were touching. I couldn't feel his, but my imagination certainly could. I was glad to be sitting once again. It helped to hide my erection and the awkward position my dick was in seemed to pinch off the blood flow which helped to get it back down to the default position.

We cruised all over town. Bobby made sure to drive by his friend's homes so as many people as possible got to see my new wheels. I'm amazed that Bobby's smile didn't blind oncoming drivers. After a couple of hours we found ourselves back in my driveway. Bobby was late getting home so he made a quick call to let his parents know where he was and what he was doing. He then headed home.

I spent Sunday at home doing school work mostly. Dad and I talked over dinner. He told me he'd be leaving Tuesday evening for two weeks. He had some meetings in Chicago, meetings in New York, and still more meetings in DC. I thought that might be a large part of the reason I got the car. Up to that point I'd walked to school. The car gave me more freedom and made him feel better about leaving me at home alone. I'd have been fine without the car. I had his if I needed it, but I guess this made him feel better about leaving so soon. I wasn't complaining -- I had a new car! Bobby called Sunday evening. During our phone conversation I mentioned that my dad would be our of town for two weeks starting Tuesday evening. Bobby asked if I wouldn't be lonely in the house with no one else there. I explained that I was used to it already. The longer we talked, Bobby told me he wouldn't mind having a place to himself for a few weeks -- no brothers and sisters bothering him... no parents nagging him... just privacy and peace and quiet. Half jokingly I told him he could stay here with me if he wanted. His only response was that he'd like that but his parents wouldn't agree during the school week. I told him he could come for the weekend, not thinking that he really would.

On Monday in homeroom Bobby told me that he asked his parents if he could spend the weekend since my dad was going to be out of town and I'd be all alone in a strange city. I hadn't thought of it like that, but ok... whatever got Bobby to spend the night. Bobby told me that his parents would want to talk to my dad to be sure it was fine with him. I already knew my dad was impossible to reach via phone so I told him I'd have my dad call his dad tonight. That evening dad didn't get home until after 7:00. I explained the situation -- that I'd asked Bobby to spend the weekend while he was away. Dad didn't have a problem with that at all -- didn't even question it. I asked him to call the Winton's to tell them it was fine with him. Before he sat down to dinner he placed the call. The two of them talked on the phone for a much longer time than I thought necessary. I didn't hear the conversation, but... well, how long does it take to say 'Bobby can stay here over the weekend'? Obviously it seemed to take over 30 minutes.

While we ate I asked if Bobby's dad had agreed. My dad said he wasn't sure if he'd get to stay or not. It seemed that Mr. Winton planned to talk more to Bobby before he gave his permission. Suddenly it all seemed far too complicated. All I really wanted was for Bobby to spend the weekend. This seemed to be turning into some major negotiation. By the time I was finished eating I'd decided Bobby's parents wouldn't allow him to stay. It wasn't a big deal really. I wanted it, but it wasn't critical. After 10:00 that night Bobby called me. He was upset because his parents were being 'dicks' about him spending the weekend. They wanted to place conditions on his stay. As we talked the conditions turned out to be only one condition. His father insisted that he still get up Sunday morning to attend the regular church service with the rest of the family. I personally didn't see the big deal so I asked why that was a problem. Bobby's logic was that he should get to decide what he did with the weekend since he was nearly 18. To him it was no different than some youth camps he'd attended where church services on Sunday weren't part of the program. I could see both sides of this argument. I told Bobby I'd go to church with him if that would help. For some reason it seemed to do the trick. His attitude improved almost immediately when I told him. I'd been in churches before... lots of them... some of the biggest cathedrals in the world. I'd even attended a couple of services in the past. Church was just another experience -- one I didn't really understand, but not one I was adamantly against. I could do this, and with any luck at all sleep through most of it.

The week seemed to drag on. On Thursday I learned that Bobby couldn't bring his car for the weekend. That wasn't really a problem. I drove to his house to pick him up for school on Friday morning. He had a bag packed with clothes and things for the weekend. The football game tonight was an away game so the team had to be back at school and on the bus at 5:00 to get to the school. After school Bobby and I headed to a local restaurant for something to eat. Neither of us was starving at that point, but we both knew he'd be hungry if he didn't eat now. Funny how guys can eat even when they aren't very hungry. We ordered a slew of food and ate it all. I was stuffed as we drove back to school so he could board the bus. I wouldn't leave for another hour to get to the game so I went home to drop off Bobby's bag. I put it in my room figuring I'd show him to the guest room when we got back after the game.

This game was a hard fought and difficult battle. Bobby took more than a few hard hits during the game. He was limping as he walked to the bus after the game. Our team eventually won by one point. The team looked exhausted as they climbed into the bus. I was surprised they didn't shower and change before boarding the bus, but didn't say anything. I, along with nearly everyone else from our school, followed the bus back to our school. When Bobby got off the bus I saw that he looked even more beat up than I thought. He'd taken off his shoulder pads and cleats and was just wearing a t-shirt, socks, and the football pants when he came towards me. I put his sports bag in the car as he climbed into the passenger seat. Back at home he showered in my bathroom while I made him something to eat. It was a simple meal... roast beef that I reheated in the oven, vegetables, a tossed salad, and a chocolate cake Mrs. Miller made. He came down in just a pair of boxers. He asked if it was ok to do that. I told him it was fine. It was something he always wanted to do, but couldn't at home. We ate and talked about the game. We had a hot tub on the patio and told Bobby he should soak his sore muscles before bed. He agreed it sounded good. I went to my room to strip down to my boxers. If that's what Bobby was wearing, I didn't want to be over dressed. With towels in hand we walked to the tub. I took off the cover and started the jets. Bobby stripped off his boxers before climbing into the water. I think my mouth must have fallen open at the sight, but I followed suit. After a short time soaking, I went to the fridge to get us each a beer. I made sure my dad bought plenty before he left town. I wasn't the town drunk by any means. I'd grown up drinking beer and wine. Often times something with alcohol was safer than drinking the water. I knew enough not to get drunk. I wouldn't let Bobby get drunk either. The beer would relax us both... and so it did.

By the time we finished the first beer we were giggling like school girls over the stupidest things, but it was damn fun! I've never been more relaxed or more comfortable with anyone. We had an outdoor shower so we both rinsed the chlorine from our bodies before drying to go back inside. We each grabbed another beer and headed to my room. We sat out on the deck wrapped in our towels just talking and laughing until the beer was gone. Bobby looked done for the night. I told him about the guest room across the hall, but he said my bed (a king size style) was plenty big enough for two and asked which side I liked. It didn't matter to me so he climbed in completely naked. My heart was pounding as I took off my towel to get into bed. Once Bobby's head hit the pillow, he was out. I, however, was not. My active imagination was racing -- conjuring up all sorts of interesting situations. I watched him sleep for a while before dozing off myself. We didn't wake up in a tangled mess. Bobby was laying pretty much the way he started out, and so was I. I should have closed the drapes over the wall of windows since the sun was Pouring in now. I wanted to let Bobby sleep as long as he needed. I got up to draw the drapes with my little buddy pointing towards the ceiling as I walked across the room. Once the drapes were closed I walked toward the bathroom for that first piss of the day. When I came out, Bobby was awake and propped up by the pillows. I wasn't really looking in his direction as I exited the bathroom so was a little surprised when I got back to the bed to find him smiling at me. I was instantly self conscious since I was completely naked. He said,

"I've never seen a dick that wasn't circumcised. Shit, you can't even see the head of your dick."

"Sorry. I should have put some clothes on." I stated as my face turned the deepest shade of red.

"It's no big deal. I was gonna say something last night about it. You're probably the only guy in school who's natural. It just looks different. When it's hard it looks just the same as every other one... umm... not that I've ever seen another one hard... well, other than mine I mean."

"Shit! Were you already awake when I got up to close the drapes?"

"Yeah. I was trying to be quiet so you could sleep."

"Damn... that's a little embarrassing. I don't think anyone has ever seen mine in that state. I don't usually walk around naked with a hard on... well, at least not with someone else in the room. I'm sorry."

"Nothing to be sorry about. Guys get hard. As Martha would say, 'It's a good thing!'"

We both were laughing at that comment. The laughter reminded Bobby that he had yet to pee so he threw back the covers to go to the bathroom. His dick wasn't hard... not all the way hard anyway. It looked like it would be about the same size as mine when hard so at least I didn't feel inadequate in that area. When Bobby finished we both donned shorts and headed to the kitchen. We made breakfast together as we both made more than our share of dumb jokes. After eating we walked the beach and eventually ended up soaked from pushing and pulling each other into the surf then trying our best to knock each other down into the rather cold water. Eventually, once we were both wet, we started our own little game of tag. It consisted of a lot of grab ass and forceful tags that knocked the other into the water, but it was fun. Back at the house we rinsed off outside then dried ourselves with towels I found in an outside cabinet.

We talked about what to do Saturday evening. Finally we decided that Bobby would call a bunch of his friends and all meet up for pizza at a restaurant near the mall then maybe head there to take in a movie. Whatever he wanted to do was fine with me. He placed about a dozen calls. When he finished he said that he had at least twenty people meeting at the restaurant. Some of the guys were bringing dates. I asked Bobby if he wanted to invite a date. I told him we could take my dad's car so we could all ride together, but he declined the offer. We talked about dating a little. Bobby asked some personal questions. I was honest, despite wanting to seem cool and knowledgeable on the subject of dating and sex. I think Bobby was honest too. He'd dated the same girl nearly all of last year and over most of the summer. They broke up because he decided she wasn't ever going to be part of his future. Bobby thought they stayed together because it was just easier than finding someone else. He wasn't a virgin like me, but he'd only had sex with this one girl. He confided that most of the time the sex wasn't all that good because she was usually drunk when they did it. When they broke up, Bobby decided that he wanted to stay single during his senior year so he could play the field and not have any pressures or demands placed on him by a girlfriend. Having never really had a girl friend (or in my case a boyfriend) I really didn't know what he was talking about, but tried to sound like I did and sympathized with his plight.

Dinner turned out to be a lot of fun... 22 rather vocal and easily excited teenagers always makes for fun. The movie sucked, but on the bright side I got to sit next to Bobby for nearly two hours with our bare knees and arms touching the whole time. That was fantastic! Back at home we each had a beer as we talked about the evening. Bobby decided he wanted to shower before bed. He suggested that I needed one too as he laughed at his own joke. We took another beer each as we headed up to my room. We stripped off as we continued to talk. Bobby insisted that I shower first while he brushed his teeth. I started the shower than stood over the toilet to piss. Bobby watched as I did. It was a little weird, but I had to pee badly enough that it didn't interrupt the process. As I dried after the shower, Bobby was grabbing at my dick as he talked about foreskin and my 'ugly' dick. When he grabbed for it the first time, I pulled away from his hand. I could have kicked myself for that. More than anything I wanted him to touch me, but my damn natural reaction pulled my dick out of his grasp... Shit! Shit! Shit! I brushed my teeth and headed into the bedroom while Bobby showered. He walked out drying his hair. We had to be at the church by 9:00 in the morning so I set the alarm while Bobby climbed into bed. I turned off the light and got on my side. We talked a little and as we did Bobby tweaked my tit. It surprised me in many levels... mostly the level that excited me and caused my dick to stir.

As I think about it now, I'm very confused about what happened next, but at that moment it all seemed so clear. I raised up on my elbow and looked at Bobby who had his eyes closed. He looked so peaceful and so inviting. Something should have stopped my, but it didn't. I leaned in and kissed him on the lips as my hand ran over his stomach and massaged his dick. For one second, maybe less, I was in heaven. Reality brought me crashing back to earth as Bobby shot out of the bed like a rocket being launched yelling,

"What the fuck are you doing, man? Fuck! I ain't some fag! What the fuck were you thinking? Fuck! Why the hell did you do that?"

"I... I ah... I... I don't know.." I mumbled completely shocked at his reaction to my action.

Bobby continued to freak out on me while I stood on the opposite side of the bed not able to meet his eyes. He wasn't calling me names or anything, but he was obviously pissed. I walked from the room with my head hanging -- ashamed, embarrassed, pissed at myself, and scared. I didn't think Bobby would try to beat the shit out of me. If he wanted to do that he already would have tried. All I could do was continue to tell him I was so sorry as I left the room and closed the door behind me. I slept in my dad's room that night... well, I stayed there at least. I didn't sleep. I couldn't sleep. What I'd done kept playing over and over in my mind. There was clearly no good that could possibly come from this. What scared me to death was all of the bad that likely would.

When the alarm sounded I was still awake. I got up and put on some clothes from my dad's closet. They didn't exactly fit, but they'd do. The last thing I wanted was to be naked when Bobby got up. I was sitting in the kitchen when he came downstairs. He didn't say anything. All I could say was,

"I put out a choice of cereal for you. The milk is in the fridge. I'll let you just help yourself while I brush me teeth and get some of my own clothes."

With that said I left the room. Bobby was waiting when I got back downstairs. Since he didn't say anything again, I said,

"Look, Bobby... I can only tell you how sorry I am about what I did last night. I misunderstood. I'm sincerely sorry for what I did. I think it would probably be best if I just dropped you off at the church. I don't imagine you really want me around. I don't know what else to say..."

"Yeah..." was all he said as he stood up and walked out to the car.

I spent the rest of Sunday and all of Monday in my room in bed. I slept some, but most of the time I just worried about the fallout. I felt certain that Bobby had told his friends, and they had told their friends. I just knew I'd been outed at school. Each time I thought about that I was sick to my stomach. I'd never thrown up so many times as I did those two days. It seemed certain that I wouldn't be part of the 'in' group at school, but there was no point being in that group if Bobby wasn't there with me. I'd have gone to hell and back for that guy. It didn't seem to matter now. I'd screwed up the friendship. There is no way he would forgive and forget. If he could do that he'd have called by now.

By Monday night I thought I'd found enough courage to drag my ass to school to face the music. On the drive in Tuesday morning I wanted to go anyplace but the school. I sucked it up and parked the car. Walking to homeroom was the longest walk I'd ever made. I expected to be ambushed along the way -- ridiculed, called names, embarrassed, you name it. None of that happened. I took my seat next to Bobby. He was ice cold. I walked to first period alone. The rest of the day was much the same. Everyone was as friendly as they'd been last Friday -- everyone except Bobby. I breathed a sigh of relief that he hadn't told anyone. I wanted to try to talk to him, but was afraid doing so in any public place might cause a scene. About the only private place was the bathroom, and I didn't think it a good idea to approach him there. Finally on Friday in our shared Civics class we were all sent to the library to do research for our project. In the library I was finally able to talk to Bobby. I started saying,

"Hey... thanks for not outing me to the school. I did a really stupid thing, but you were decent enough to keep it between us. I really appreciate that. You could have made the rest of this school year a living hell for me."

"I didn't do it for you. I didn't want anyone to get the wrong idea about me. How do you think it would look for the popular jock to be friends with a fag?"

"Yeah... guess I should have worn a sign so you wouldn't have been confused." I growled at him.

Finally looking up at me he said, "Look man... I'm not the fag here. How the hell was I supposed to know you'd try that shit on me? I didn't do anything to give you the idea that I was interested in guys. Why the fuck did you do it in the first place? No wait... don't bother telling me. I really don't want to talk about this shit. The whole fucking mess makes me sick to my stomach. I feel like I'm gonna puke."

With that he got up and left the table. I sat there staring at the book in front of me. I was embarrassed and hurt and pissed. I'd hoped he could be civil towards me, but that seemed to be out of the question. I completed the report for both of us. Two days prior to the due date I handed him his copy of the work with a note telling him that I planned to turn it in on the due date unless he objected. He didn't say anything so I turned it in. As it happens we got an 'A' on the project -- no thanks to Bobby.

The holidays came and after that classes changed in mid January. Bobby and I had an American Government class together, but seating was assigned by the teacher in alphabetical order so we weren't seated near each other. It didn't matter because we hadn't spoken one word to each other since that day in the library. Life went on. I gradually withdrew from the group of Bobby's friends. I did go to all the football games, but I didn't sit with the 'group'. I stayed to myself doing school work and visiting a private gym my dad joined.

In late March I had been at the mall picking up some spring and summer clothes when I decided to walk to a store a few blocks from the mall. On the walk I was approaching the pizza place where Bobby, his friends, and I had gone for dinner that fateful Saturday night so long ago. I was thinking about the place as I got closer. I hadn't been there since. I stayed away from all the places I thought Bobby might go. I didn't want to risk a confrontation with him and thought it best to avoid all the likely places where that might happen. As I got to the restaurant I noticed a commotion in the back of the parking lot. I couldn't tell what was going on because a group of high school kids had gathered blocking easy view. I decided to head back there for some reason. Usually I would have avoided anything to do with something like this. Whatever was happening wasn't my business, but something drew me back. As I got within hearing distance I could tell it was a fight -- or about to be a fight. There was some yelling and name calling, but I didn't know what was going on. I pushed my way through the gathered crowd to see four guys picking on one guy. The letterman jackets of the four guys indicated a rival school to mine. The guy they were picking on had a letterman's jacket from my school. There had been some shoving and pushing, but no punches thrown... everyone was still standing, and I didn't see blood. When I looked to see who the guy from my school was, I was amazed to see it was Bobby. He was in a defensive position looking to be attacked by at least one of the four guys. The biggest guy was talking a ration of shit. I stepped into the clearing to talk with Bobby. He had this grateful look on his face -- like he was finally glad to see me. I asked if he needed any help. He told me he just might. The big guy started talking shit to me. I'd heard it all before so the words didn't hurt. He was just a big guy with a big mouth that was rapidly getting him into trouble -- trouble he'd soon regret. I encouraged him to stop being a pussy and take a swing. My invitation worked. After he took his first swing that missed and started to take another, I showed him what several years of boxing experience can do. I got in three solid punches to his face before I knocked him to the ground. As he was going down, one of the others lunged at me. This time I got to use some of my martial arts experience to plant a foot solidly in his stomach. He was doubled over and then down on one knee. The other was close enough and as he swung at me I grabbed his arm in mid air and punched as hard as I could at the shoulder joint. I heard it dislocate. The fourth guy put up his hands indicating he didn't want to play. The crowd parted as the police arrived. An aid car pulled in right after. I gave my statement to the police first. Bobby gave his next while the medics looked at my hand. I had skinned knuckles on my right hand from punching the first guy in the face. The police then spoke with the other four guys prior to putting three of them in hand cuffs and taking them to the station while sending the fourth to the hospital to have his shoulder looked after. I didn't say anything to Bobby once I realized he was fine. I went back to my car and drove home.

I told my dad about the fight in the parking lot simply telling him that one of the guys from my school was being picked on by four others. He seemed glad that I'd finally used the skills I had gained, and happy I wasn't hurt. I thought I should let him know just in case the police called the house or he somehow heard about the incident.

The next morning -- a Saturday -- I was still in my room when I heard the door bell. It hadn't been for me since Bobby stopped coming over so I figured it was someone for dad and didn't bother or pay further attention. I was surprised when someone rapped on the door jam to my room. The door was partially open so if it had been dad, he'd just have walked in. As I looked up I was shocked to see Bobby standing there. I exclaimed...

"Bobby! What are you doing here?"

"I came to thank you for coming to my rescue yesterday. You saved me from getting my ass kicked."

He was still standing at the door so I asked him to come in and sit down. There were chairs in my room so it wasn't like he had to sit on the bed or anything. I was in one chair so he took the other. I asked,

"Are you uncomfortable being in here? If you aren't, we could always go out on the deck or go downstairs."

"No... this is fine. So where the hell did you learn to fight like that? I couldn't believe it. You took on all three guys without batting an eye. You weren't even scared or anything."

"I learned martial arts and boxing when I lived in various countries. It was one of the few things to do there. It was a good way to take out aggressions I had and my frustrations so it became fun to do. I've never really been in a fight like that, but it's really nice to know that I can take care of myself."

"You can take care of yourself alright. I still can't believe it. You had all three guys down in less than five minutes. It was amazing! Makes me damn glad I didn't try to hit you after you kissed me."

"I'd have let you hit me. Don't get me wrong... I would have defended myself, but I wouldn't have hit you back."

"Why? That doesn't make any sense."

"You were my friend. I didn't want to hurt you. If what I did pissed you off enough to take a swing at me, then I guess I deserved to get punched."

"So if you 'were' my friend back then, how come you helped me yesterday? Why didn't you just walk away and let those guys kick my ass?"

"I said you were my friend. I've never stopped being yours. You stopped being mine. I couldn't let anyone hurt you especially if I could stop it from happening. I'm not sure what drew me to the back of the parking lot yesterday. Normally I would have just walked on, but something pulled me back there yesterday. When I saw our school jacket and four against one, I was obligated to try to do something. When I saw it was you they were picking on, I wanted to beat the shit out of them. Fortunately I got the chance to do that thanks to the big dumb guy taking the first swing."

"I'm sorry, Paul."

"You don't have anything to be sorry for, Bobby. I misunderstood. It was all my fault for what happened. I put you in an impossible situation. I never should have tried to kiss you. It was wrong for me to do. I really thought we were in the same place. I know why I thought that, but it was all just me confusing your kindness and friendship for more than it was. I've learned that lesson. I won't be making that mistake again. I'm just glad you were nice enough to not tell all your friends at school. That probably would have been worse for me."

"Umm... you wanna go somewhere? You know get out of the house for a while? We could take a drive someplace if you want."

"Yeah sure... I guess. Let me put on some shoes and grab my wallet and keys."

As we got downstairs I found my dad to let him know I was going out for a few hours. He reminded me that he'd be leaving for DC later that afternoon. I hugged him and wished him a safe trip if I wasn't back before he left for his trip. Outside I tossed the keys to Bobby and told him to drive since it was his idea and he likely knew where he wanted to go. He smiled that brilliant, sparkling smile of his. I hadn't seen that since before the kiss. It melted my heart. I knew at that minute that we could never really be friends. I really was in love with this guy. It was more than a crush or good old fashioned lust. I had it bad for this guy. His smile alone made me feel all mushy inside. I didn't know where Bobby would go or why he wanted me with him, but I suspected it was his way of expressing his thanks for my help. I also thought he probably really did feel uncomfortable sitting in my room with me. The bed had to remind him of the kiss I'd given him. I suspected that brought back all sorts of bad memories -- memories he'd just as soon forget.

As Bobby drove and we talked, I was amazed at how easy it was to be with him. In a matter of minutes it felt like I was transported back in time to the point where everything was good between us. It didn't seem like we'd had all those months of separation. We were heading down the coast. When I asked if he had a destination in mind, I learned that he didn't. We finally stopped for lunch at a place on the beach. The food was good. Bobby insisted on paying for our meal. I didn't argue with him. His mind was made up.

By the time we got back to the house, dad was already gone. He left a note and money on the table. I put the cash in my wallet as Bobby followed me to the kitchen for a soda. When I asked what he'd like from the selection inside, he asked if he could have a beer. I opened two and joined him at the table. I could read in Bobby's eyes that he had something he wanted to say. I could tell it was the same thing he'd wanted to say earlier when we were in my room. Since he hadn't found the courage to say what was on his mind, I decided to push the issue. The beer was his liquid courage so getting him to talk might take another beer or two. I finally said,

"Bobby, it seems you've got something on your mind that you want to say. I've always found that the best thing to do in those situations is to just come out with it. Get it off your chest. You'll feel better once you've said what's bothering you."

He looked across the table at me then drained the beer bottle in his hand. I got up from my chair and got him another. I sat the open bottle in front of him and then leaned back against the counter near the fridge. Finally he asked,

"What exactly did you misunderstand? What made you think we were in the same place back then?"

"Bobby, are you sure you really want to rehash all of this? I don't know that it would make you feel any better if we do."

"Yeah... I really do want to know."

"I guess there were a lot of separate things that I misunderstood. I don't know if I can even remember all of them now. But since you asked, I'll do my best to give you a complete list. First it was the fact that you befriended me on the first day. I've had lots of first days in new schools. You are the first person to ever talk to me on the first day -- and really talk to me. Then you were so helpful -- offering to help me get up to date with the two classes we shared. Then it was the kindness you showed when you asked me to join you and your friends for lunch, and you made me a part of your group of friends. Then there was that great smile you've got. Your face always seemed to light up when you saw me. Your eyes always sparkled when we talked. Your smile melted my heart. You were kind and generous -- giving me rides to and from school when you could and inviting me to the football games. You made me feel a part of your success on the field by inviting me into the locker room with the team after the games. Then we seemed to work well together. I remember fixing a meal here with you. It seemed like we just functioned well together. The weekend you stayed here you were so free and open. You wore only boxers when you came down from your shower. We soaked in the hot tub without clothes. We laughed and giggled that night like little kids. We slept in the same bed without clothes. We played on the beach -- played grab ass with each other. Do you remember trying to pull my shorts off when we were in the water? Then there was your open discussion about my foreskin and watching me as I pissed in the morning. You saw me with an erection, and that didn't seem to put you off or freak you out. I guess in my mind I took all of those things as signs that you were interested in me as more than a friend."

"So have you had sex with other guys?"

"No. I never even really met anyone I thought of having sex with until you."

"And you thought I'd be ok with that? You thought I'd want that?"

"I guess I did, or at least hoped you wanted the same thing. I found out the hard way that you weren't."

"Why didn't you just ask me?"

"I wanted to so many times, but I just didn't know how to approach the subject."

"So you decided to kiss me instead?"

"Actually I really didn't decide to do that. I didn't plan to kiss you. That kiss was a spur of the moment decision. If I'd thought about it, believe me I never would have done it. I just did it."

"I'm not a nudist or anything. I probably should have kept my clothes on, but I'd never had the chance to walk downstairs in just underwear. I could never go into a hot tub at home -- if we had one -- without wearing a swim suit. I don't know why I decided to do it here other than the fact that I felt comfortable around you. I never slept in the same bed with a guy even when I was a kid so maybe I did want something more. Maybe I just wasn't ready for the reality of 'more' when you kissed me. Maybe I reacted the way I did because I was scared."

"There is a lot of uncertainty in all of that. I don't really know how to deal with that."

Bobby stood in front of me. He looked into my eyes and said,

"I think I know a way, but you'd have to help me. Are you willing to try that kiss again?"

"Hell yes!"

I'd no sooner said that when Bobby's lips were pressed against mine. I wrapped my arms around his body as his arms pulled our waists and hips closer together. Our bodies were connected from thighs to mouths. When the first kiss broke we just looked at each other as we gasped for breath. My hand was on the back of his head, I pulled Bobby's lips closer to mine as we started the second kiss. He didn't resist. He leaned in for more. My tongue touched his lips and they opened allowing my tongue inside. I moaned as our tongues first touched. He was more forceful now -- holding me tighter, running his hands over my back, pressing his lips against mind, forcing his tongue into my mouth. As that second kiss broke we kissed each other gently around each other's mouth and neck. I nibbled on his ear lobe as his body shuddered from the sensation. The third kiss Bobby's tongue was demanding as it pushed past my lips. As he kissed me he was pulling my shirt out of my jeans and running his hands up by bare back. I was moaning with that kiss -- needing and wanting more than just this kiss, but being so happy with just kissing him. As this kiss broke, Bobby was kissing my eyelids and ear and neck. I was so incredibly aroused. Still holding me with his face in the crook of my neck he said,

"I think I've found the key to all my uncertainty."

"What's that?"

"You were right. This is what I wanted too, but I guess I was just too afraid when the opportunity came along the first time. I'm glad I got a second chance."

"What exactly do you want? What happens next?"

"Lets go to your room where we can be more comfortable and discuss it."

"Is this gonna freak you out later? Are you sure you want to do this?"

"I"m sure. My dick has never been this hard. Shit... it never got this hard when I was having sex with a girl. One kiss from you, and it's harder than rock. I feel like I'm gonna cum just from kissing you. Paul, this just feels right. I knew it the first time I saw you walk into our homeroom. I've known it every day since then. I was just scared of it. I didn't want to be different than my buddies. Now I don't care. I've wanted this since I was probably 12 years old. I can't pass up this chance with you. I thought I lost the chance completely when you dropped out of the group at school. When you were in the group I could at least be a dick to you but still see you every day. I know you didn't see me, but I watched you. I never stopped watching you. I didn't have the guts to tell you I was sorry for how I'd treated you. I didn't have the guts to tell you that I knew what you were going through. I didn't have the guts to tell you that I wanted the same thing you wanted. I didn't have the guts to kiss you back even though I wanted that more than anything else in the world. When you came to my rescue yesterday, I had the excuse I needed to come back here.. to talk to you. I wanted to kiss you when I walked into your room, but I didn't have the guts to make the first move. I've wasted too much time already. I won't let this chance slip by me again. I need this. I want this. And most of all I want all of this with you. Now can we please go to your room and get comfortable? My dick feels like it's gonna explode."

"Don't you want to call your parents to let them know where you are?"

"I already told them I was spending the weekend with you. We just have to go to church in the morning, but I don't have to be home until after school on Monday. My clothes are in my car. We can get them later. Right now I just really need to go to your room."

"I'll race you..."

And that brings me to the end of this story...

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ds elliot