Private Parts
By Sean Micheal O'Day
Art by Charles Kerbs
He was so naive and uptight that he
couldn't even say the word "cock; but
he had potential - huge potential!
My first semester in college was an ongoing bombardment of culture shock. My hometown, in southeastern Ohio, is approximately a hundred miles from any large city - and a trillion light years from the reality of the world. Dad's life revolves around his work as a rural mail carrier, and Mom's is spent between town meetings at the Faith Baptist Church and the Grange. acceptable topics r conversation at our dinner table include Ronald and Nancy Reagan, George Bush and his dog, Milllie, Ollie North, Jerry Farwell, and Pat Robertson though not necessarily in that order.
I was so really ignorant about sex that, during the first couple or months when I had wet dreams, I was worried sick that I was regressing to infancy wetting the bed. Talk about being terrified! Then for a brief time, I thought hat nocturnal emissions dealt with driving a car with a broken muffler in the moonlight I forget whether it was Oprah Winfrey or Phill Donahue who is abused me of my colossal stupidity about wet dreams. but the day I was watching their discussions on sex education, Mom marched into the room and flicked that television off so fast that I thought we were under nuclear attack. Don't dirty your mind with that filth she barked, after which she marched out of the room. So much for my parental instruction on sex.
Now that I'm taking Psychology 10l. I know that my parents are only responding to the way their own parents reared them, but recognizing my ancestors. hang-ups hadn't t exactly transformed my life into a bowl cherries. I'd bet anybody a Big Mac that my mom didn't know she was carrying me when she was pregnant; she probably thought she was only gaining a pounds from wolfing down all those Sara Lee cakes. I swear, I. still can't figure out how Dad ever lured her into a bed. No wonder I don't have any brothers or sisters.
I hope you don't think I'm a sex maniac or something weird like that, there have been a few times, after taking a shower, that I've stood in of the mirror and paid particular attention to my male body parts. I think normal looking, but I'm no expert. I have blond hair on my head and downy fur on my legs. My armpits are hairy, too, and I've noticed the triangular patch of hair has sprouted on my chest. I'd give my eyeteeth to have my hair long, but Mom forbids that. Whenever I remind her that Jesus long hair, she tells me that Jesus probably couldn't find a decent barber, then she rattles off the names and addresses of both barbers in my hometown.
The male body parts that interest me most are those between my navel and my thighs, if you get my drift. Once in gym class, I heard some seniors talking about a donkey-dick, and then they looked at me and laughed. I d know whether it should be proud or rnortified, but believe me, I've r prowled pound gym class or in the. showers trying to peek at other guys private parts. I mean, for Pete's sake, I've already told you that I'm not a sex manic.
One day I did get fantastically absorbed in the National Geographic, reading a .story about some primitive guys in Africa. There was a frontal nude of this one ancient patriarch, but I swear, his private parts were enough to cause every teenager in the Western Hemisphere to take a vow of virginity. He had a gold ring in his nose, droopy breasts, a jelly belly that sagged his waist and his scrotum and penis hung down like dried-up prunes an a twig. In short, his private parts were totally pathetic.
But apart from studding pictures in National Geographic, how was I supposed to find any correct information? I Surely hope you didn't expect me whip out a tape measure at the dinner table, and blurt out, ''I wonder if my erect penis is a normal size. I think I'll measure it.'' Mom and Dad would of fallen head first into their platters of spaghetti. That's the reason I was choking at the bit to leave home and enter college: to escape my parents.
Even though Mom and Dad are first-class dweebs, I appreciate their footing big part of my college tuition. I guess I have a 1ove-hate realationship with them which I developed during my formative years. That"s shrink--talk which means that I hate their guts, but until now- I couldn't possib1y have lived without them.
The day that changed my life radically was September 26th of my freshman year in college, the annual celebration at our school called the Festival of Clubs.
'It's the day all campus organizations haul out their gaudy booth., .set them up in the quad, then distribute literature to potential members. It's one big party, and some of the kids act crazier than hell. I was totally shocked. I still remember strolling from booth to booth, scanning literature, trying to fade into the background. They may not believe me, out I'm super shy. .Some people accuse me of snobbery, but I'm so shy that it hurts. Sometimes my armpit wet just from being nervous around people. I stopped by the Buududhist Melitatioii booth, looking over their literature there must have been a dozen people milling around, all wearing saffron robes, and there I was wearing one of the tee shirts our pastor had given all the choir members. On the front of my shirt was printed the message, "Make a Joyful Noise!'' - and on the back, ''Trust Jesus!'' I must've stuck out like a. big zit on a little nose. And then i glanced up and saw it! Dead ahead was a booth emblazoned with the words ''Gay/Lesbian .alliance.'' You may think I'm a liar, but it was the first time in my life I saw people my own age who openly -announced to the world that they gay ay or lesbian. God, how I envied them! Two guys in saffron robes ask me if I was all right, because I guess I looked as if I was ready to keel over or puke.
It was just that when I saw the booth for the Gay/Lesbian Alliance a which a whole battle of conflicting emotions lined up on war on either side of my brain, frustration, confusion, excitement, desire arousal .You wouldn't believe how incredibly fast I get aroused. As I took a few faltering steps toward the both, my penis jumped into an astonishingly erect state.
When I stole a sideways glance at the booth, once guy yelled out "He said, want some brochures about our Alliance'? We've got some pamphlets on AIDS, too.''
I scrambled back to the safe haven of the Buddhist There I glanced over my shoulder at the guy in the gay booth. He was wearing tight Levi's. gray sweat suit with a pink triangle on it, and by then he was talking s a graduate assistant who teaching me English Composition, Mr. David Sarton the appeared undisturbed at all that anyone might see them standing at the booth talking. What would my parents say if they knew that I was taught by someone who talked with homosexuals? Mom would probably break out in hives, and Dad would double over with a hernia.
With all my heart, I wanted to abandon the Buddhists and join the guy in the gray sweat shirt, but I listened impatiently to a monk telling me how meditation could transform my life.
Sometimes in high school, I would fantasize about the friend I'd most like to have, and the physical appearance of the guy at the gay booth fit the bill perfectly. I kept glancing at him. He had a ready smile, a white painter's cap perched on the back of his head, and black curly hair that tumbled over forehead and around his cap. His tight Levi's would have been judged two sizes too small by Mom, but she thinks that if clothing isn't baggy, it's obscene that caused me to like the guy even ignore. The denim over his crouch was washed to a pale blue,. Once, the guy squatted a little and tugged at his cock while he kept up -a nonstop conversation with Mr. Sarton. Instantly, I envied Mr. Sarton because he knew the guy.
Returning to my dorm, I felt awesome knowing that information about gays was close at hand, but terrified that I could no longer use my parents as an excuse for my radical ignorance. What if my deepest suspicion were correct, and I came to discover that I was one of "them?" What would my classmates think? My parents? My parents? Could I handle it? Worrying about its sent me into a tailspin of derepressing memories.
I thought back to my final month in high school when I joined my classmates on one of those whirlwind tours to Washington, D.C. and New York City. While in Washington, I spotted a gay newspaper stuffed between other magazines in our hotel lobby. I scanned only one article - I didn't dare let :classmates see me reading it - and I got so jittery that I nearly fainted. The man who had written the article said that all gay literature should be happy and reflect the great times that gay men experience. If gay men were happy all the time, I wondered why I felt so confused and lonely just trying to figure out whether or not I was gay.
Although I acted as cool as cucumber , you may be dumbfounded to learn that sometimes I become very upset with myself because I'm so shy. Intellectually, I'm average, but emotionally, I think I'm severely retarded. Just getting up the gumption to talk to somebody about sex is harder for me than to figure out Einstein's theory of relativity. In fact, I've never talked anybody about gay sex. It's a worry I've kept bottled up inside my heart. Had I only known how all of that was about to change, I wouldn't fallen apart :from being a complete and total nervous wreck.
I was leaving Mr. Sarton's class one day in early October, a particular dreary day with an overcast sky and a crummy drizzle, when someone called me. I turned to see the guy I first spotted at the Gay/Lesbian Alliance booth, the one who wore the gray sweat shirt and the painter's cap.
''You're a tough man to find, he said, breathless, but still wearing his broad< and painter's cap. "Ever since that day on the quad, I've been trying o track you down. Now today, I bump into you. The name's Shane.''
He extended his hand. His palm felt warm, his fingers strong. His eyes pierced mine, and the feeling in the pit of my belly was new for me. His eyes were sending an unspoken message that I couldn't quite decipher.
The unexpected always flusters me, and this chance encounter was no exception. ''Nathan,'' I said, introducing myself. immediately sweat began oozing of my armpits and my palms got clammy. You wouldn't believe how shaky I got. After I made some astonishingly stupid remarks about how wet the rain felt. I turned speechless. My brain and mouth locked up in fear.
Shane must've sensed my predicament, and so he started a nonstop monolog about the campus. He finished by saying, ''I was headed over to pool for a swim. Want to join me?'' Tuesday afternoons, no classes were ever scheduled at the Physical Activity enter, and so the pool was open for any student who wanted to use it. While walking toward the PAC, Shane told me that he was a sophomore majoring in Business Administration, and a native of Cincinnati. He went to tell me that he wanted very much to talk to me at the Festival of Clubs, but that I ignored him. How does one explain that what appears to be snobbery is really fear? That was much too personal for me to explain, and merely laughed nervously.
My mind was racing like an entry at the Indy 500, trying to churn up something sensible to say. I blurted out, ''You live in Cincinnati. Did you see the Mapplethorpe exhibit?
'' I didn't know anything about the exhibit other than what I heard on tele on, but I did know that it raised one heckuva stink for the Cincy bluenoses. I was totally flabbergasted when Shane talked about the exhibit. He knew things that I'11 bet Mr. Mapplethorpe himself didn't know. I felt unbelievably embarrassed that I knew so little about art, legality, and sex.
Anyway, if there was the least doubt in my mind that i was attracted to other guys, the veil of confusion parted a bit as I walked beside Shane. My heart was pounding, and once or twice when his hand brushed against mine, my male organ launched into an erection. My girlfriend in high school, Becky Mae, never had that effect on me. She could have brushed her hand against mine all day, and my penis wouldn't have budged an inch.
Not until Shane and I walked in the front door of the Physical Activity : did I realize that I had no swimming trunks with me.
''Can we swim nude?'' I asked. The question aroused me terrifically.
When Shane answered in the negative, I was disappointed, but he continued down the hallway toward the locker room. "No problem, " he said. "I brought new pair the other day. You're my size.''
I stopped dead in my tracks when his strategy dawned on me. You know, you were going to bump into me today, didn't you? That's the reason you, for the extra trunks.'' I was as subtle as a swift kick in the ass, and as so I had answered Shane, I felt unbelievably embarrassed.
But Shane merely winked and grinned. ''Man, you're quick as a shot."
I admired the way he swaggered into the locker room. His step had a bounce and a cockiness that attracted me. My penis had become amazingly erect, and I wondered how in the world I was supposed to hide it while changing clothes.
Shane pointed to a comer of the locker room. Only three other guys were there, and they were changing into street clothes after returning from the showers. As Shane and I stuffed our jackets into the lockers, those three guys, sauntered out, leaving the locker room to me and Shane.
We sat a couple of feet apart on a long bench. My heart was beating like sixty, so loudly that I thought I could hear it echoing in the locker room like a kettledrum. Was I about to commit the crime of the century?
Shane kicked off his shoes and peeled off his socks. His ankles were covered with thick, black hair. He must have seen me staring at his ankles because he said, "You got much hair on your legs? ''He scooted closer to me, reached down, and pulled up the leg of my pants. ''Mine is lighter in color than yours,'' I stammered. ''More the color of my blond hair.''
My body froze with fear; I loved his hand on my leg.
As he cupped his fingers over the downy fur on my leg, I felt my male organ growing longer. I mean, it was really stretching out. No guy had ever touch my leg before.
I kept my eyes downcast, assuming the same stance he had: hands on hip slightly spread. My penis was fully erect, arching upward, slowly twirling around.
Man, you've got a gigantic dong," he said, whistling Low. Until that moment, I had never seriously entertained the possibility that private parts might have been. . . well, better than normal. I opened eyes wide and gave his penis a good direct look. It was the same size as mine were we both average or both jumbo?
Shane circled my body so that he could take a look from behind, but he did not extend his hand to touch me.
''Your butt looks firm. Rounded like a solid melon. And besides your eyebrows, the only place you've got black hair is around your cock. Thick patch of it, too. Hot body, Nathan. Really hot.''
His evaluation elated me.
The doors to the locker room flew open and a crowd of half a dozen upperclassmen barged in. They were too absorbed in their own conversation to notice us but for me it certainly brought the spellbinding ecstasy of the moment to a screeching halt. My penis went as limp as a balloon snagged on barbed wire and all the magical feelings I had toward Shane fled. I could have been more embarrassed had Mom herself barged into the locker room with all the ladies from Faith Baptist Church.
One fortunate event did occur during the next few minutes. I swallowed my inhibitions and brushed aside my inhibitions long enough to take a good look at the groins of the upperclassmen as they changed into swimming trunks. That convinced me once and for all. Shane and I didn't have average-size private parts. We were both endowed with super-jumbo, deluxe models.
'Want to swim?'' Shane asked, interrupting my thoughts.
He tossed me the new pair of swimming trunks, and as I pulled them my legs, I became aroused merely thinking that they would someday slide up Shane's legs and cover his body. I wondered whether Shane was sharing my fantasy.
By the time we had dived into the water, the other guys were joining us. They were a friendly bunch, but their conversation centered exclusively their girlfriends. Shane and I didn't stay in the pool long.
When I returned to my dormitory that afternoon, I was more confused than ever. Throughout elementary and high school, I was initiated by teachers, pastors, and family into the varieties of socially acceptable behavior. One form of behavior was presented as so improper and unacceptable that its name rarely mentioned - and when it was, I could never in my wildest dreams believe that the word would ever apply to me. That word was "homosexual."
Yet I was more attracted to Shane than to any of the girls my mom had insisted that I date in high school. She was convinced that I should marry that buck-toothed diva from our Baptist choir, Becky Mae.
But now, not only was I attracted to Shane, I had a big hole in the pit my stomach eating away at me when I had to leave him that afternoon. I didn't want him out of my sight. I didn't want him to leave me. I didn't want think about anything except him.
Sliding my hand under my rump, I pinched my rear end. Shane said it was firm-looking. I had never given much thought to my hind end, but he was attracted to it. As my left fingers followed the crevice up and down between my buttocks, my right fingers massaged my cock.
At home, on the few occasions I had masturbated, I'd locked myself in the bathroom and turned on the water spigots full blast so that the sound of water would drown out any pleasurable sounds that escaped my lips This was first time I had ever masturbated in bed. Maybe if I rolled over on my stomach and thought about Shane, I'd increase the pleasure.
As my cock rubbed back and fourth on the cool sheet, I fantasized that Shane is lying under me. I imagined my cock sliding back and forth on his belly. I reached down and fondled his hairy legs.
Inching my whole body up and down on the Mattress, I bore down harder on my cock. As I buried my face in my pillow, I imagined my lips opening so that Shane and I could kiss. I only supposed.
My cock became rigid. My body tensed. Fluid squirted out of its tip. It was a wet dream without being a dream. This was the first time that I had work up the courage to masturbate anywhere except in a bathroom amid noisy spigots. Afterward, I felt one small string to my parents being snipped, it felt good, very good, indeed.
Does a gay man always feel such a let down the morning after meeting a new friend?
When I awoke, my sizzling attraction toward Shane had simmered down to a pervasive fear. The only tangible evidence of my torrid attraction to Shane was the large stain in the middle of the sheet. My entire mind was consumed with anxiety over my fascination with him. Maybe when the cobwebs of had completely cleared, I would remember that Shane was only a fiction in my wet dream, a nocturnal web of entrapment spun in my normally life. But when the phone rang before eight and it was Shane, the delights and the complexities of a first relationship were upon me.
Shane's telephone message was simple and direct: Mr. Sarton had invited to his apartment, and Shane was asking me to go as his date. He used the word ''date,'' but what else does one call an elephant except an elephant? - and that's how enormous the entire situation loomed before:
In high school, I had enough dates to convince myself and others that I was not gay, but Shane's invitation was to be my first date in college, and it would be with another guy. Old Becky Mae would have barfed and then fainted.
The weather that evening was a bear. Forecasters put out a winter storm advisory, predicting that the ten-inch snow would begin with freezing rain. By the time Shane and I reached Mr. Sarton's apartment, I'd judge there already an inch or two of snow on top of the freezing rain. It was a numbing experience of terror, slipping and sliding our way across town. I hoped it wasn't an omen.
''I appreciate your inviting me, Mr. Sarton, ''l said upon entering his apartment. ''When are the others arriving?'' I added innocently.
''Others?" said Mr. Sarton. "I never have more than four people to a dinner party. I'm not that competent a cook. And please, don't calI me Mister. Among friends, Dave will do.''
I coughed and cleared my throat, trying to force the word ''Dave'' from my mouth. Mom would have had a litter of kittens, had she ever heard me call a teacher by his first name.
''Thanks for inviting me, Mr. . . . er. . . Dave.''
When Dave called to someone in the kitchen, a slightly built individual walked into the living room. I was introduced to Miguel. How pleasant, I thought , he has a Puerto Rican friend. While Dave and Miguel retreated to the kitchen to put the finishing touched their meal, an invisible tether pulled me along behind Shane wherever he walked in the two-bedroom apartment. Throughout the meal, Dave and Miguel kept up a running conversation with Shane and me. It didn't take long before I felt that I was talking with a a couple of older brothers. In one short evening, I was suddenly being given everything I had missed all my life, and between moments of profound fear, I was experiencing unbelievable happiness.
We must have been at that table three hours, jawing and laughing and giggling one another an ear. At first, I hesitated opening up and saying anything when I told them about Becky Mae and the microphone at the Revival, Shane nearly tumbled off his chair laughing. They actually encouraged me talk about myself and the things that worried me. That never happened me at home.
Close to midnight, Shane peeked between the drapes and let out a holler.
We all came running to the window. Snow covered everything, and I don't mean a light dusting. Cars had been abandoned in the middle of the street nothing was moving.
Well never get back to the dorm tonight,'' I fretted. "No problem,'' said Dave. ''We have two bedrooms. You and Shane can share one.'' "I don't know," I stammered. ''Maybe the snow isn't that deep. Maybe we should start back. Maybe. . .''
Maybe we'd better take the spare bedroom," said Shane. "C'mon.'' He grabbed my hand and galloped toward the bedroom Was I in tow behind a disguised Becky Mae? I glanced over my shoulder and saw Dave and Miguel cuddling together on the couch, readying themselves to watch the nightly news. Fortunately, Shane didn't trip on a single thing.
Shane closed the bedroom door behind us and flicked on the light. A double bed took up most of the room, but the walls were enlivened with several painted pictures of English landscapes and medieval castles. Dave's interests clearly enveloped the room.
I was trying to act as nonchalant as he, standing in front o one o e small paintings studying the details. The entire time, though, I felt my private part becoming unbelievably erect inside my pants. My heart was pounding so hard when I glanced at my chest, my shirt was flopping up and down.
I couldn't have planned that snow storm better myself,'' said Shane. He stood behind me, resting his chin on my shoulder. ''Sleeping in the same bed with you will be a fantastic bonus to an already great evening.''
His hands slid around my waist, and he pulled me back until I felt his penis pressing against the seat of my pants.
"Your private part seems fully erect," I said.
He let go of my waist and snickered, '''Private part?' 'Fully erect? When his tongue licked the inside of my ear, a ripple of goose bumps trickled down my spine.
''You make it sound like a physician's report. I've got a hard cock, buddy
He spun me around until my eyes were gazing directly into his.
"Nathan," he whispered, "you are the most uptight guy I've ever met. Loosen up, man. Enjoy yourself. I know you're as horny as I am. Let's get nude and have some fun.''
''I've never made out with anybody before.'' You're putting me on! With your donkey-dick, and you've never used it? You're joking.''
''Do I act like it?''
''Maybe that's the problem. Stop acting. Be yourself.''
He leaned forward and gently brushed his lips against mine. For several moments, only our warm tongues touched, and then he slid his arms behind my back, drawing me into an embrace so passionate that our cocks were rubbing against each other through our pants. I clasped my arms behind his back and pulled his body tightly against mine. When his tongue pressed between my lips, I opened my eyes wide to see what I was supposed to do, but his eyes we're closed, and a dreamy expression radiated from his face.
At that point, his hand tunneled between our pants until I felt his fingers outlining my erection.
'Nathan," he whispered, "you've got a fantastic dick."
He took my hand and gently wiggled it between our bodies until I felt the warmth of his crotch. His long cock was stretching out into a gigantic hard-on.
"Rub your fingers back and forth on my dick," he moaned. "I like he other guy to undress me. Go on, Nathan, take my clothes off, slow and easy. If you want to kiss any part of my boldly while you're undressing me, do it.''
Shane sat on the edge of the bed while I removed his shoes. He lay back on the bed and closed his eyes. After I removed his socks, I brushed them against my face. The socks were soft, warm, and permeated with the appealing scent of his clean body. After stuffing his socks in his shoes, I rubbed my fingers through the thick hair above his ankles.
Next, I touched the collar of his shirt and undid the top button. Unbuttoning his flannel shirt, I felt my own cock growing harder and harder I was embarrassed when I glanced down and saw a large wet spot on the section of Levi's covering my dick.
After I unbuttoned his shirt, Shane sat up so that I could slide the sleeve on his arms. Before continuing to undress him, I lowered my head. My lips moved to his right nipple, and it grew hard. When 1 rubbed my tongue back forth on it, he groaned with delight. With my thumb I massaged his other nipple until it was hard.
"Man, nobody's ever given me that much pleasure on my chest before." he cupped his hands around the back of my neck, pulling me forward, and urging me to continue. ''You sure you never had sex before?'' he asked, smiling below closed eyelids.
I shook my head quickly before I placed his fingers on my waist button, coaxing him to unbutton my pants. Immediately, he slid his fingers down to buttons of my Levs until my fly was completely spread apart. His fingers slowly searched inside, fondling my balls and cupping my cock. As soon as he tugged my cock from my pants, he slid to his knees and took its tip between his lips. The sensation was so tremendous that I couldn't believe it. His head moved back and forth, faster, until the crown of my cock was brushing the back of his throat. He uttered strange sounds, gulping and slurping, but that only intensified my pleasure. In the past, whenever I'd masturbate, I'd hurry so that I wouldn't get caught in the act. I was, however, in no hurry now, and I wanted the act to last forever. I found myself climaxing sooner than I expected - even though we had our pants on and only our flies were unbuttoned.
"I'm ready," I said, uncertain where he wanted me to direct my stream ''Shoot it on my face,'' he said.
I pulled my cock from his mouth just in time to squirt my load all over cheeks and chin. The relief of the moment caused my body to jerk, and I tumbled backward onto the bed. After smearing my juice all over his hands, he cleaned off his face and hands with a paper towel, and then he crawled in beside me. He was still wearing his pants, and I was embarrassed that I was selfish that I thought only about myself reaching a climax.
''Do you want me to help you ejaculate?'' I asked.
"Ejaculate?" He closed his eyes and shook his head before letting out a long sigh. ''Oh, Nathan, Nathan, Nathan, what an innocent babe you are, how I love you for your simplicity! Yes, I'd like you to help me ejaculate but if you don't mind, let's drop the medical jargon. Make me come.'
I cleared my throat, embarrassed that I was such a dope, and I wondered whether any other young gays were as unsophisticated as I. Gliding my hand inside his pants, my fingers wrapped themselves around his dick. The end was wet and sticky.
''What do you call that?'' I asked, rubbing my finger across the slippery goo on his cock.
"Call it pre-cum or anything that makes you hot and horny," he said. "Lets shuck these pants.''
There was a mad scramble to jump out of our Levi's.
When we crawled back into bed naked, he scooted around until his knees rested atop my head, and I was staring into his hairy crotch. "Let's do a sixty nine,'' he whispered.
And with that, his lips found my cock and he began sucking. I leaned forward, and for the first time in my life, a man's cock slid between my lips. It was warm and refreshing, rigid yet soft, satisfying beyond description. The slightly salty pre-cum made me want more, and I sucked harder, sliding his dick deeper into my mouth. I wrapped my fist around his cock milking out his pre-cum. He was moaning softly, coaxing me to continue. His hands slid around my ass, and soon 1 felt his finger gently probing inside my hole. It was a wondrous sensation of excitement that Shane was giving me and I wanted to consume his body. I wanted us to become one and never separate.
Since his finger was up my hind end, I assumed that it was an action he enjoyed, so I curled my hand around his ass, and began probing until my finger into his warm, hairy hole. His opening was moist with sweat, and a finger slid in easily. I wanted to holler, I was so happy. I buried my face s crotch, and the scent filtering up my nose was both clean and manly. I swung my leg over his back so that he could suck me harder.
My leg, covered with downy blond fur, provided a bristling sensation as it rubbed over the hair on his head. And when he slid his hairy leg over face and behind my head, I thought I'd go through the ceiling with pleasure.
"I'm ready to come," he said. "If you don't want it in your mouth, get your head away.''
I wanted him to spray my face the same way I had done to him, and let his cock slip out of my mouth. No sooner had his cock bounced out steady streams of cum spurted from his dick onto my cheeks and neck. His body tensed again, and I knew that another load was coming. I held onto cock and he shot his load all over my chest.
He grabbed hold of my dick and pressed it tightly against his face. I tensed my body and shot a load. He pressed my cock below his chin and let me drench his neck with my cum After I shot my load, he gently held my cock and licked it like a lollipop.
Slowly, my cock shriveled to its limp size, but Shane continued petting it, licking it, sliding his tongue back and forth along its underside.
After we wiped the cum off our faces and hands, we cuddled side by side facing each other so that we could fondle each other's body. Lying in bed beside Shane provided me with a calm that I had never before known. We lay there for a long time holding each other, embracing, silently savoring the moment.
Sane took a deep breath and let out a long, contented sigh.
''How long have you known you were gay?'' I asked, cupping my thumb across his nipples until they jutted out. ''Gosh, I don't know. Who keeps a record book? How about you?''
I dropped my hand to his leg and let my fingers scratch the thick jungle of hair on the insides of his thighs. It must have tickled because he laughed, and my fingertips felt goosebumps under the hair. When I stopped, he my hand back on his legs, goading me to continue.
''How about you?'' he repeated. ''You seem new to the game.''
I thought of the layers of inhibitions and the baggage of repression that I had become such an integral part of my upbringing.
'Do you think all gay literature should be happy?'' I asked.
''Huh? ''He tuned to me with wide eyes and a frown. ''What are you talking about?'' ''Gay literature. Should it always be happy?'' I explained my experienced reading the article in a Washington, D.C. hotel lobby.
Shane curled his fingers around my cock. Immediately, it sprang to life stretching longer and thicker.
''I know from experience the hardships of life, ''said Shane, ''and I'd rather read about happy events and resolutions of hardships than concentrate on life's downers. Believe me, I already know that life isn't an eternal hard-on."
He toyed with my cock, his fingertips dancing lightly over my balls until shivers of thrills surged through my body. Even without touching my cock Shane could make it stretch out, long and hard. He was a master at tickling my balls, then reaching between my legs and fingering my asshole until I was hard. I spread my legs apart to give him more room.
''Your parents and relatives accept you?'' I asked, not realizing how blunt the question sounded until it was too late.
''I think they do, but if they don't, that's their problem, not mine. They've got their life, I've got mine. Deciding how to live your own life - that's t .crucial question.'' I had played with Shane's cock until it was sticking up in the air like periscope, begging to see some friendly action. When I combed my fingers through his cock hair, he closed his eyes and grunted contentedly. ''Would you do me a favor?'' he asked, wrapping his fingers around my cock and squeezing. ''Would you fuck me?''
"I've never fucked anybody," I admitted. "I've never even had the experience of doing it with a girl.''
''Great,'' said Shane. "I'll give you a crash course.''
Shane rolled out of bed and pulled a small package from his pants pocket then he tossed me a condom, he smeared some cream from a tube and spread it around his asshole. On the tube was the name Nonoxyno1-9.
''Smear some of this on the outside of your condom, once you get it on."
He knelt on the floor, and then he stretched his arms on the floor, resting his and and shoulders on the carpet.
''Get behind me and aim your cock toward my asshole,'' he instructed. ''Slow and easy. We've got all night."
I had to squat so that my groin came close to his ass. Even then, I had some trouble maneuvering behind him. "If this is your first time, let's make it a little easier," he said, moving upward toward the bed. He lay down, his chest and stomach resting on a corner of the bed, his legs dangling over the corners, and his feet planted on the floor. That position brought his ass closer to my groin.
"Use your finger to find my hole. It'll make it easier for both of us."
I put my left palm on his hairy ass, and then I slid my right fingers up down his crack until I found his opening. After touching the tip of my cock to his asshole, I pushed forward slowly, amazed at the tightness of his hole.
''Ouch!'' That quickly his grunt of pain turned to a groan of satisfaction as the first inch or two of my cock found its mark.
''Steady yourself by grabbing hold of my buns,'' he instructed. He spread his legs wide and placed his hands on mine, guiding them, showing me to pull his buns apart near his hole.
Feeling the thick hair of his ass under my fingertips only made my cock harder, more easily able to penetrate him.
''Go on, Nathan. Shove harder. You won't hurt me. I want your big donkey-dick in me.''
Obediently, I gave a good, strong push and my cock slid up his ass a good five or six inches. He let out a long whimper as my cock penetrated him I thought I had hurt him seriously and so I backed away immediately, my cock bouncing aimlessly.
''AII right, Nathan,'' he said patiently. ''You weren't hurting me. Let's begin again, and don't stop if I make some strange noises. I like to mouth off I'm getting fucked.''
I aimed my cock again, and this time when I shoved, my cock slid in his ass like a well-oiled piston into a tube. I kept shoving until I had at least eight or nine inches up his hole. I squeezed another couple inches into his asshole.
''You damned sonofabitch,'' he said. ''You like your dong up my ass don't you?"
Remembering his warning that he liked to mouth off while getting fucked I wondered whether it would increase my pleasure, too.
"I only like it when I'm doing it to a horny bastard like you," I said immediately, I knew that Shane's mouthing off added a new dimension to sex.
"You're too much of a sissy to shove your whole cock in,'' Shane goaded
When are you gonna grow up and stop acting like a baby?''
''You want it all?'' I said, drawing backward far enough that only tip of my cock remained inside his ass. ''We'll see what kind of a big man are, you goddamed asshole.'' I pushed my entire body forward until the whole of my cock was crammed up his butt. While I had my cock in him, I reached under his chest and pinched his tits.
As Shane's butt arched up, off the comer of the bed, he let out a yelp which ended in a prolonged ''Ow!'' The growl simmered down to a continuous purr, and I worked my cock in and out, harder and faster, and within minutes, he grunted that he was getting ready to come. I was glad, because I didn't think could hold my load much longer.
His tight butthole was bringing me to a climax I never knew I was capable of having. I slung my arms around his chest, lifting his upper body off the bed, and I stepped back several paces, my cock still tightly plugging his ass. As soon as we were off the bed, he spread his legs, grabbed his ankles, opened his asshole wider for me, so that I could shove the last inch of cock up his ass.
I reached around his waist and started jerking him off. The tip of his cock was dripping with pre-cum.
''That's good, baby. Keep it up. Help your buddy shoot his load. Help me come.''
He growled like an animal in heat, and soon I heard myself echoing his grunts. Was this a joyful noise or what!
My hands suddenly were spattered with cum shooting from his cock. As he shot another load into my hands, I felt my own cock releasing its load within my condom deep up his hole. He must have felt my body lurch, because another stream of cum drenched my fingers.
I held him tightly for several minutes before we unplugged ourselves and helped each other wipe cum off our bodies. Once we had washed ourselves we embraced, his naked body warming mine as we stood beside the bed.
For the first time since reading that article in the hotel lobby in Washington D. C., I had a glimmer of understanding of what that writer had meant. For fleeting second, I was sorry that I had not taken that newspaper so that I could have read the entire paper on the bus trip back home. But Shane interrupted my reverie.
''Let's hit the sack,'' he said. ''It'll be cozier cuddling in bed than standing here naked on the floor.'' He led me to the light switched, turned it off, kissed me before putting me to bed. After he tucked the blankets snugly around my neck, he leaned down, and again kissed me on the lips. ''Don't be surprised if you feel my lips on your cock during the night,'' he said. ''I'll be hard as long as your private parts are sleeping beside me.''
''Don't tease me,'' I said, shoving my tongue into his mouth.
When Shane crawled under the blankets with me, I knew that my life no longer stalled at a fork in the road. Although my final destination remained uncertain, my crucial decision has been made, and I was embarking on an amazing journey.
The End.