Ricky Ullman In Love Chapter 3 By DeGobln
DISCLAIMER: Guess what! This story has absolutely nothing to do with reality. This is a completely fictional story. The words that make the story that follows is not intended to imply anything about Ricky Ullman's or Max Thieriot's true sexuality in any way shape or form. I do not personally know either celebrity or know of any details of their personal lives. This story is completely fictional and meant for fantasy. Oh yes and if it is illegal to read such material as a factor of age, law, or ordinance....discontinue reading.
ALSO: I know this web site usually deals with sex in graphic details. I know that sex is an important part of a love story...in a bold attempt to not leave it out I will portray each sexual act as an act of love rather than as a bathroom encounter.
This is my first time ever doing anything like this so if you have any questions, comments, or honest criticism. Please send them to degobln@yahoo.com and list "Ricky Ullman In Love" as the subject so I know it's not spam.
I found myself very excited to put an end to my relaxing vacation and come home. I guess coming home is better when something awaits you. Either way I could not wait again to lock eyes with Max. I could not wait to again be entranced by his words as if they themselves were as hypnotic as the rest of him. Excited I was, about everything.
After the jet found our terminal I was the first from our flight to find my way off and inside, heading for the baggage claim so that I can quickly leave. I barely draped the straps across my chest when I was already on my way to the cab stand. Taking the first available cab I gave the directions to my house and searched my cell for his number so that I may look at it-again.
I stared at his cell number a lot after receiving it. I am not sure for what reason I did this. It could have been to remind myself that he was true and real, and not imagined. It could have been for many reasons but I think it had to do with these new thoughts I had on him. I think when I saw his cell number and name on my phone it tickled me as if I were in his presence.
Either way I really did want to call him when I got home, but was severely uncertain of this action. First, I told myself, I'll take a shower, and get dressed.
I took a nice long hot shower. It was as relaxing as many things had been recently but more so since this was my home. While bathing I had the c.d. player going and was in no way paying attention to anything else besides the loud noises of the music and the swirls of thought that make my imagination.
Getting out of the shower I recognized my mistake as the red light on my phone blinked in almost an insulting manner. I picked it up and looked at the screen to both be excited and disappointed at the same time. Of course it was Max that had called me before I called him, and of course it was I who missed the call Max had made. I thought to myself that I would call him after getting dressed.
So I got dressed, into something severely comfortable. I only adorned myself with jeans, boxers, and a t-shirt. I went barefoot this evening as I did not plan on going out anywhere.
I looked in the mirror and flashed myself what I preconceived as a dorky smile. I looked at my eyes, my nose my mouth, and ears. I carefully studied everything this mirror reflected back, honestly wondering how it is Max saw it. I wonder if he was attracted to my eyes, my nose, my mouth, ears, and dorky smile. I wondered if this face would be enough to make content one of the most beautiful people I had ever seen.
Procrastination is one evil unlike the others. You see in most evils, drugs, sex, gambling, the individual takes at least something away with them. But with procrastination you could only use. This night in my procrastination I did lose out. I lost the chance to return Max's call. I waited so long and debated so many things that it was already past 11 when I finally made it to my device. It really was not that late at all, but I figured that in the fact that I did not know him as well as I thought, I could only consider the idea that he may have already gone to sleep, and any calls from me would be an intrusion into his rest. His rest is something I definitely did not want to disturb. There was nothing about him I wanted to disturb that is with the exception of his innocence. But I would not disturb an innocence that would in time be willing to be corrupted.
So again I went to sleep that night, alone with my thoughts. Though, by this time I had learned to control what thoughts I have of Max, and not let them hinder my sleep. It's not that in sleeping I am able to forget about him. It is that I have grown capable of dreaming of Max by day or by night and whether or not I was conscience was irrelevant. A dream is a dream, and a dream about Max Thieriot is something that heaven is probably made of.
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I was afforded the chance to sleep in that morning. I had no immediate obligations and for once the sun was up and out well before I was. I woke up to prepare myself a breakfast of fruit and watch a little bit of news. After my lounging and staring at the walls I found myself in the shower again.
Do you even notice how amazing showers are? How simple a thing it is for pressure to force water into your home and out of the wall, though how simple it is not. I have always heard the saying, "cleanliness is next to godliness", but if this is just a taste of what godliness feels like, I am not sure I would want such a power. Too much of a good thing can be very bad! Take orgasm for example. Those few seconds of pleasure are absolute bliss, but if you were in a constant state of orgasm, it would be normal for you, and bliss would be obsolete. Even worse then is that what would seem normal to other people would be bad for you, and the only way you could get back to your personal state of normalcy would be to feel orgasm. I guess for some people it is enough to feel normal for a small fraction of the day. I on the other side of things, search for normalcy and structure throughout the entire day. It is almost as if I relentlessly seek meaning from everything.
I got dressed that morning as simply as possible. I wore faded Jeans and a rustic looking T-shirt. I had not shaved in a few days so my side burns were looking at bit rustic as well. It is ok on days like this day when I don't have to face any cameras. Sometimes I like to just be a bit out of form; after all it is very, very comfortable.
I was just about to leave the house to go do some window shopping when I got a call on my phone. This was a bit of inconvenience since my hands were full and I was in the process of walking out when I had to literally drop everything to see who the caller was. This caller, however, was one I wanted to drop anything just to talk to.
"Hello," I answered my phone already knowing what caller was on the other end.
"Hi," Max's angelic voice echoed back this greeting.
"How are you Max?" I said with a great growing smile.
"I'm good, and how are you Ricky?" He asked me.
"I couldn't be better," I replied honestly for his call put me in an instantly great mood.
"That's good," Max complimented.
Instantly there was a premature awkward silence in our conversation. For a moment I felt as if he were as nervous about all of this as I was. Deciding that Max was never going to speak I was about to say...
"I'm not disturbing anything am I?" Max asked interrupting my thought pattern.
"Oh no, not at all," I assured him of my wanting to talk. "I was just on my way to go out for a walk, and the conversation could do me some good," I added.
"Okay," Max enthusiastically remarked.
"So what plans do you have today?" I asked him with genuine curiosity.
"Nothing really, it is one of those off days where I have nothing at all to do," he genuinely answered.
"Really, you don't have anything to do?" I inquired.
"Nope nothing at all," he replied sounding a bit embarrassed or disappointed by this admittance.
"Were you looking forward to alone time, or are you bored?" I continued to question Max.
"Completely bored," he articulated with great feeling.
When Max had said this, his voice painted a perfect picture of what his face probably looked like. I could imagine that wide eyed look he had while looking down. I could see the sound of what he said coming through clenched teeth. I could see how adorable it was that boredom was eating him away.
"Sorry I missed your call last night," I apologized purposely changing the subject.
"Oh no that's fine," he obviously lied.
"So we should do something today," I used the element of surprise in getting him to come out with me.
"Okay," he quickly responded as if waiting for me to ask him.
I noticed that even he was a bit taken by his quick response. Therefore I to became a bit embarrassed as well. With our new shyness came another awkward silence. I could literally hear birds chirping in his back ground, almost as if they were to replace the crickets that would be chirping had it been night.
I found Max's embarrassment to be very cute, attractive maybe. I just wish that it were easier to talk to him, that there weren't this many awkward silences in our words. I wish many things when it comes to M...
"So where and when should I meet you?" Max asked again interrupting my thought pattern.
"How about this, you name the place, and I get to name the time," I stated.
"Okay," he again responded with a sense of speed.
"Okay, I say we meet as soon as possible, now the rest is up to you," I smugly said.
"Hmm," he seemed to be in deep thought.
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We met at a park, near downtown. I arrived earlier then he did, enjoying the weather as it was a beautiful spring day. I sat on the bench wearing a hooded sweat shirt with a visor and sunglasses. Thought I looked a bit sly and incognito. Because I was dressed like this I could spot Max from a mile away. He was dressed very similar. He also wore a zipper sweat shirt but with a beanie hat on and sunglasses. I began to smile as he made his approach and sat next to me.
"Mr. Ullman," He said looking straight forward and not at me.
"Mr. Thieriot," I played along.
"Mission complete?" He said in sort of a questioning manner.
"Mission Complete," I replied.
We both sort of chuckled at the lameness of the situation.
"How are you?" I asked taking off my hat.
"I am just great, and you," he said while removing his sunglasses.
"Like I said I couldn't be better," I smiled again.
"So what is on our agenda for today?" Max asked with a great emphasis on the word our.
"Well, I was thinking that we could spend the day on the town," I replied placing the same emphasis when referring to us.
"Sounds cool," Max nodded his head in agreeing.
We got up from the bench and walked to the main entrance of the park, hailed a cab and we were off.
The first place I wanted to take him to was a pool hall/arcade. Not that I was any good at pool or anything I just figured that it would be a good opportunity to get to talk to him more, know him better then I already did.
The building was not anything like the pool halls of the eighties. No bikers here or people of questionable backgrounds. That is to say, no one would bother us. The place was in top shape, and very comforting if I might compliment.
"I'll rack them, and you break," I suggested to Max.
"I don't know, I'm not good at that," he explained.
"It's ok, I'll show you," I said with ulterior motives.
I racked the balls in order for 8-ball to be played. All the while I watched Max from the corners of my eyes. I could only stop staring at him when I became fearful of being caught in a trance, an endless gaze.
I watched him grab the stick as if it were a snake. I rolled the cue ball down the table towards him but instead of catching it he watched it bounce off the wall and roll back towards me. He was so cute in his ignorance I could not help but laugh a little bit.
"What's so funny?" he asked to my slight laugh.
"Okay, this time when I roll the ball to you catch it," I said with a huge smile on my face.
"Oh was I supposed to get that?" He blushed.
"Yeah," I said still smiling.
"Oops," he responded sarcastically with raised eyebrows.
"It's ok, it happens to the best of us," I slyly assured him.
He just smiled and shook his head. He looked as if he was getting ready to break but he was holding the stick completely wrong.
"Like this?" He asked demonstrating how he was going to shoot, partially bent over the table.
"Here wait," I said walking towards him around the table.
I took the stick from his hands and for a moment barely brushed my hand across his. I can feel the warmth from it as if it were a drug I was immediately addicted to.
"First you hold the stick in this hand, and then with this hand you steady the point of it. You want to be sure that you keep both your hands as steady as possible. Look down the stick and point it so that it is pointing at the center of the cue ball, and the cue ball is pointed at the other balls," I explained while he looked at my hands and the pool stick with interest.
I handed him back the stick and watched as he took the same stance over the table I previously took. I watched his hands as the one that holds the tip steady was not wrapped right around the stick.
"Try this," I said reaching my hand out and placing it on his fingers.
For a very, very short instant, not even a second, I let my palm come to a brief rest on Max's warm knuckles. I think he too noticed this as he seemed to get a bit tense upon our physical contact. Quickly I wasted no time in rearranging his fingers so that they properly guided the stick.
"Okay, now take your time in taking aim. Visualize it all happening in your head, and when your ready pull back and hit the cue ball," I instructed Max on breaking.
I watched in anticipation, and the motions almost seemed to happen in slow motion. He pulled back the stick struck the tip of it with the cue ball which the cue ball went rolling down the center of the table, hitting the other balls with such a weak force that only four departed the triangle.
We both sort of laughed.
"Well at least you hit the cue ball, my first time the stick hit the side of it and the cue ball went right into the side pocket," I relayed my own embarrassment.
"Want to try again?" I asked Max
"Of course," he said with that trademark head nod and smile marked by unbounded enthusiasm.
I racked the balls again but without the rack. It was easier to just put the four stray balls back into position.
"Okay, remember what I told you, but this time hit the ball with a bit more force," I suggested observing his form.
Again as if in slow motion, I watched Max. He drew back the stick then thrust it forward with a stronger force then expected. I watched in horror as the cue stick slid across the felt cloth tearing a rip all the way up to the cue ball, then hitting the cue ball underneath, launching it into the air and rolling it onto the floor.
Max stood straight up, in a stiff silence with a shocked expression on his face. His mouth dropped wide open with the immediate realization of what he had done. He seemed sincerely scared and as if not knowing what to do.
"Well, I said a bit more force, but I guess we have different ideas of what that means," I laughed.
"What do I do?" He asked me still scared.
"Just relax," I assured him.
"But I just...," he started to say.
"It's ok Max, it's just some ripped cloth," I tried to calm him down.
I don't think my obvious amusement of the situation helped much. It almost seemed to anger him that I smiled about it.
"Just wait right here," I said to him walking away.
I payed the manager for the damage done to the table and with that it was time that Max and I moved onto something else. After a short time he began to see the amusement I had about him scratching the table.
We went for dinner that night at a small pizza place. We sat for hours talking about nothing in particular. I really enjoyed talking to max, about nothing in particular. I took in everything he said, and with everything said I liked him so much more.
I guess the word I have come to define Max as is amazing. It is amazing how someone like him exists. His physical beauty, perfect personality, and everything else that makes him as a person, is so great that it seems unworldly. It seems as if it is impossible for someone to be this perfect.
We ended the day that night. With a walk on the moon drenched shore, getting more personal in our conversation. Definitely loose with our tongues in not watching what we were saying. Actually that is not true; we talked about anything except for the obvious. We talked about everything except for us, and what we might do from this point on. It did not bother me though; I was perfectly content in his presence and did not need assurance as to his obvious attraction to me.
Ending the night I escorted him home via cab, and walked him to his back door.
"So when do you want to hang out again?" I asked him in lieu of not knowing what else to say.
"Whenever you want to," he replied.
"How bout I call you tomorrow?" I asked him making sure it was okay.
"Sounds great!" He said with that characterizing enthusiasm.
"Then it is settled," I added.
"Then it is settled," he repeated.
I stood there for a moment looking up the stairs at him, thinking of as many infinite thoughts as there are stars in the sky. I stood their, looking into his eyes, hoping that I could have the pleasure of embracing his soft lips this night.
He stood their also, staring back at me. Almost as a mirror, Max reflected the same expression I had, on his strong gaze back into my eyes.
There were so many things I wanted to do. Most of all I wanted to take charge of the situation, step up onto the step with max, put my hand on the back of his head, and kiss him as if we were redefining the word. Kiss him in a way that would make the greatest of lovers seem as prudes. I wanted to embrace Max in a way that he and I would never forget.
But I did none of these things.
"Tomorrow," I sighed.
"Tomorrow," he seemed to sigh in the same disappointment.
I walked away but not before getting one last look. I turned around to see him still standing their watching me watch him as I walked away. His disappointment faded as did mine as we simultaneously smiled at each other and turned to go our separate ways.
Though I was content in seeing him smile one last time I was not entirely happy. I went to bed that night disappointed in myself. Very disappointed that I could not make more of things, that something inside of me clicked and stopped me from going further with Max
I was disappointed buy happy that I at least had his attention, and in gaining Max Thieriot's attention, I have made a great accomplishment.