Steve

OK. I know you aren't even going to read this...

*** If you're not of legal age, this isn't for you. If you're not of legal age to read this pornographic material, this isn't for you. If you read this stuff and get caught, that's not my fault.

*** If you don't like gay erotic stories, this isn't for you. If you read this and get offended, don't blame me: it's not my fault.

*** This story was written by me, belongs to me, etc. Please redistribute and re-post with my permission only. Direct inquiries to Mike via Email at: rpquortant@hotmail.com

Steve Part 1

It has been some time since I got my courage up to admit that I like boys better than girls. I have been surfing the net in that direction and can actually appear quite knowledgeable on paper. In life, I really have never done anything like that and at the moment, I don't see any real prospect of change. After considerable looking around the net (nothing like the "Badpuppy") and other more or less appropriate places I can even say that I've developed something like "my type". Well, Steve is a pure definition of it.

I've drive shuttle for the school for over a year now. Ironically, even though the enterprise is called the "Escort Service", I really have not met anyone while driving the van. This year I am the boss, thus in addition to my Saturday night regular shift, almost every week I have to pick-up other people's shifts. Since the freshman class at my school has grown with time, and no one at the Housing office has any knowledge of the fourth dimention, there are no spaces in any dorms. This year, just like last year, some freshmen got placed in the Hampton Inn. It is definately too far from campus to walk every day, thus there is a shuttle, courtesy of the Hampton Inn, from the University Center to the hotel. The shuttle runs from 7:30am to 1:00am, every half an hour. Naturally, there is a large number of students for whom 1am on Friday/Saturday night (rather Saturday/Sunday morning) is far too early to go to bed. We take those people home. That's how I met Steve.

One night, right around 3am, he got on the van and sheepishly asked if I would take him to Hampton Inn. In the flicks of the dome light and the street lights I could see not much more than a pale-white face on the black canvas of the night.

"Sure, hop on!" was my reply. As we drove on, I watched him in my rear-view mirror, conveniently pointed at the passengers (in this case there was only one). I was immediately attracted to him. As usual, I don't know what it was; as a matter of fact at that point I didn't even have a chance to look him over, but something has just sparked.

Not knowing any other way, not hoping for very much and just generally feeling bored I started a conversation with him. I was very surprised at how well the conversation had gone. In the minutes that it took us to get to the hotel we managed to have a coherent enough conversation, that I deemed it appropriate to introduce myself at the end of the ride, learning his name as well.

I have a pretty good visual memory and since I work a lot and not only on Saturdays, there are quite a few regular riders that I know. For some I can just connect their face with their destination. Although I have made quite a few introductions, a handful actually know my name, and fewer still have introduced themselves to me. It came as a very pleasant surprise during next week (Thursday, I think), when Steve got on the van, saying:

"Hey, Mike, remember me?"

"Sure I do ... You go to Hampton Inn, and your name is Steve, right?" I asked and was welcomed with an introduction to his friend. This time a three-way conversation was even livelier still. The ride actually took significantly more time (like 15 or 20 minutes) and I have found out a couple of things about Steve and his Hampton Inn roommate. It turned out that the roommate was actually moving out of the hotel and somewhere on campus. He was deemed lucky by Steve, to which I proclaimed that I'd rather stay in the hotel -- a lot easier to deal with life that way. At least, I told Steve, you will have a room to yourself for a while! He agreed to the advantages of that factor.

"Are you working this Saturday?" he asked as he got off. Upon receiving an affirmative answer, he said: "I am sure I will see you then!"

"Later, have a good night guys." I said, without thinking much, as I drove off.

When I got home that night, I set down on the couch and recalled the events of the evening. Somehow there were more light out today. When Steve and his roommate boarded the van, I could see him in most detail so far. He looked perfect. About 5'7" - 5'8" and only 130 pounds he looked to have a swimmer's build from under his slightly baggy cloths. His light-brown hair was at once made into a perfect crew cut, but has grown since, and now looked like a dome. From the looks of his face, I would say he has not been shaving for more than a year and his skin still maintains its boyish pink and shine. Ever since the first night on the van, I was attracted to his deep blue eyes and his gentle, caring and almost boyish killer-smile. Sitting on the couch, I thought, with real lust, of the literal meaning of Elton John's words: "All I ever wanted was a reason to drown in your eyes..."

To my disappointment, however, I have not seen Steve for the next week and a half...

The following Friday there was no one to work, but me. And it was a real hell, like very rarely occurs even at our badly run shuttle service. I practically worked all day, with less then a half an hour for lunch in the middle. At 10:30pm the last shift of the day started. There should have been a driver to work the overnight (me, in this case) and a driver and a dispatcher who would both leave at 2:30am. Well, this Friday, of course, the dispatcher called off. I decided that the other driver was fully capable of working for the two of us, and I will take the dispatcher's post, as to insure the proper organization of the service. It also gave me a chance to catch up on some paperwork. It is always nice to do paperwork while dispatching. The latter does not interfere at all with the former, but it was originally thought that the two would be done at different times, thus I actually get paid double time for that work. Pretty nice!

At about 2:30am, just as the other driver was wrapping up his shift, I was just getting ready to go out driving. By this time way too many things have happened for me to even think of Steve's whereabouts and guess whether I will still see him or not. As a matter of fact, as of the week before, I had to complimentary conclusions of Steve's whereabouts. I thought, may be he was moved to campus, or may be he found a girlfriend. I was not happy about either one, but I really had neither a say nor a choice in the matter. Besides, as I said, it wasn't the thing on my mind at the moment.

Just as I was ready to leave, Steve came in through the door. It was the first time I have seen him in real light. He looked just as good as I thought he did: I would have never given him more than 15 upon a first-sight evaluation. And I guess that is what I like about him so much; plus his killer smile and deep-deep blue eyes. I almost dropped my backpack, when I realized that he was real and not a pant up fruit of my horny imagination.

"Hey Steve, you want a ride home? I'm leaving now and I don't know when I will be back: we have a little hell here, as usual!" I added promptly, to hide my surprise.

"Sure, Mike, I am just about ready to call it a night."

We walked out to the van. The doors were locked and I opened to front right door, to open the back one, so to let the passengers get it. I kind of pointed Steve to the front seat.

"I get to ride shot-gun?" he was surprised.

"Sure, why not? Strap yourself in: it is the most dangerous seat in the house," I said without much thinking, as there was no time for anything but a prompt departure.

It actually took me some considerable time to collect all the people from campus and when I dropped everyone off, I was racing to another rendezvous to which I was like 10 minutes late. In all the rush of about 20 people to go home at the same time I totally forgot about Steve. It is not that I forgot about him (he was sitting right next to me), but I totally forgot that he had to go home! All the while we were talking about all kinds of cool stuff. We talked about cars, my work, school, the way he was adjusting to the new environment and the social life (or rather the lack there of) at school.

When the second passenger-collection around campus was finished, I finally realized that Steve had to be taken home too.

"Oh, shit, I forgot to take you home, didn't I? Let me take you there now, before I forget again. Okay?"

His reply came as a surprise: "Na, you don't have to ... I will go for another run with you, if that's okay?"

"Sure, man, whatever you wanna do. Always a pleasure to have company along!"

It is always, indeed, a pleasant distraction to have someone to talk to on the van for more than two consecutive minutes at a time. I enjoyed Steve's company for another ran, with scenario repeating itself at the end of it. As the night wore on, I have stopped making offers to take him home, as there had been a couple of times we have driven by the Hampton Inn, but he didn't get off and our conversation about nothing continued. Two separate feelings were slowly arising in me now. First of all, I felt more and more attracted to the kid riding shot-gun with me for the past two hours. Second, it looked more and more like the subject was skewing and Steve wanted to either ask or tell me something.

It was about five o'clock in the morning, when the wave of people died a little bit, we went to the local Mister Donut that is open all night. Before ordering, we both made a stop at the john. I was too preoccupied with the subject of our conversation to think of anything, but I did seem to have noticed Steve stealing glances in my direction as I was buttoning up my old Levi's.

We got our coffee (I insisted on paying for all of it) and headed out, back to the van. As we were walking outside, Steve suddenly grew silent and seemed to concentrate on something. Whatever it was, I didn't want to bother him too much (may be he just got sleepy) and concentrated on my coffee myself.

"Mike, ... can I ask you something?" Steve almost whispered, as I was starting the engine: I could barley hear his words.

"You just did, but, go ahead, shoot for another one," I was just settling into my normal mood of the morning.

"Mike, do you have a girlfriend?" The question took quite some time to arrive, but put my strategic forces on alert level ONE (I've been reading too much Tom Clancy at that point in my career).

"Well, I don't at the moment ... as a matter of fact, at this school your chances of getting laid are pretty thin, unless there are some special circumstances about you. So, don't get your hopes up!" I said with a giggle, not really knowing if he was asking what I really wanted him to ask.

"Ah-h, what special circumstances are you talking about?"

I wanted to find that certain accentuation there, so I did, but who is to say that it was really there.

"Well, there are quite a number of those. If you brought a girlfriend from home, you can definitely get laid, almost in no cases will that be taken away from you. Like I heard this story somewhere about this guy who went out with this girl form home. He was a frat-brother, but they went out for at least two years that I heard of. And then one weekend, she was visiting him, but he had to go to a meeting or something. When he got back, he caught her with one of his "brothers". I feel sorry for the guy, but I still think that must have been part his fault -- you just have to be able to see those things!"

I was thinking that Steve would comment on the story, but he retaliated to the original subject of the conversation: "Unfortunately that is not an option at this time... So, what are these 'other ways' you were talking about?"

I took my time in answering that question. It was my time to decide just how far I would go on the matter. It was my time to evaluate my position on the matter. We just picked up a passenger and I didn't exactly want to continue the conversation with a witness present, lest make Steve (or myself, for that matter) uncomfortable and blow my chances, whether they existed or not. It was about 5:30 by then, I was tired and not thinking straight. I was also horny, as I am 24 hours a day, and even more so, from having Steve sitting next to me. I decided to run with it, since the worst I could do was getting a rejection, which happened to me more than once and I am used to them.

When the passenger got off, I started speaking even before Steve had a chance to open his mouth and change the subject. "First other way, I was talking about is rather conventional. There are some women around and there are a few colleges with high concentration of women around here. Like there are Chatham and Carlow, and there are others. The second way, you see, is to 'switch sides', if you can call it that. This school has higher-than-normal proportion of gay males, you know. Some people go for that..."

"Really? I didn't know that! Have you ever done it?"

His question came out, like it was preset in his mind. It came expected and unexpected at the same time. I was hoping he would ask it, but I was taught by my experience not to invest too much into those hopes. It was still mathematically not clear what he was talking about: he could have been talking about the "first way". It was very unlikely, although it did offer me a way of escape, if I wanted it. I have for a long time (10 minutes) decided that I will run with it, and that was just another turn it was taken, and I was there to follow!

"If you are asking what I think you are asking, then the answer is 'Yes', I have done it once, a long time ago, but lately I have often considered doing it again. Just as you said, none of the other ways are an option at this time."

He all of a sudden became a little more uncomfortable: "Sorry, man, I didn't mean to get so personal."

"Hey, no sweat, my friend. If I didn't feel comfortable answering your questions, I wouldn't, believe me! ... How about you, though? I know you don't have a girlfriend, but have you done it with another guy?"

He was awarded some time to think about his answer, since we had a large group of passengers board the van. All those people seem to have come from the same place, but they all were going to different places, thus it took us about 20 minutes to take deliver them all. It was about 6:15, thus about the end of my shift, when we dropped of the last passenger and turned back to campus. I looked over at Steve for an answer to my question. I saw fear and hesitation, but maybe only because I wanted to see them.

"N-no, I've never done anything serious with guys --"

The answer took long enough to arrive and the rest was nowhere to be seen: "And..?" I asked.

"-- I think ... uh ... I want to ..." and a long pause resulted . . .

It was near the end of my shift, and there were no more people to take home. I drove the van to the usual parking spot and killed the engine. We set there for a while. I think both of us new what was going to happen next. The most likely possibility was that one of us would say something out-loud, thus break the ice and begin a new turn in our not-yet-relationship. But we both set there in silence: we were still not over the possibility that the other would decline the proposition, thus breaking the not-yet-relationship (and might even ruin the other's social standing). As we set there, I was looking at Steve. He wasn't looking at me, at least he wasn't looking into my eyes. The morning sun was just breaking out, and there was enough light outside for me to see him very clear.

He was seated in the front seat of the van, one leg underneath him, and half-a-way turned towards me. His coat was unbuttoned since it was pretty warm in the van. He was wearing a blue-and-yellow striped polo shirt, about two sizes too big for him. Although his jeans were pretty loose and not worn-out at all, I could see his upper thigh outlined by the light-blue fabric. His head was turned toward me, but the face was looking down at the floor. All I could see was his light-brown hair, covering his forehead. Despite the hair, I could see (or may be rather feel) the expression on his face. I sensed frustration and indecision; I thought he may have been frightened . . .

A loud static over the radio interrupted our silence. I glanced at the clock and slowly realized that we have been seating in the van for more then 15 minutes now. I realized that there was certain element of risk involved, but "those who do not risk, never get to drink champagne", so I ran with it once more.

"C'mon, Steve. It's time to turn in. Let's go."

He didn't say anything, but rather turned around and slowly got out of the van. I knew I had to put us on the same page before we got to the Campus Police office, where I had to drop off the key to the van. I was usually offered a ride home (about 10 minutes worth of walk away from campus) by one of the squad cars. It was clear that Steve would be taken home (to the Hampton Inn) by a squad car as well. At that time we would be separated, the momentum lost and I may never have a chance at him again. The walk from the parking to the Campus Police office takes about two minutes, so I had to think and act fast.

"Steve," I said upon a moment's reflection. "I want you to know that I've never done anything like this before, but something about you just tells me that I must ..."

I took a second to regain my breath: "Would you like to try it with me?"

There, I said it! However clumsily it came out, it may not have been understood under other circumstances, but that morning I was sure Steve knew what I was talking about.

"Oh-h, I don't know ... -- I think so ...," the reply came ever so slowly, but I could see that once the decision was made, he relaxed and it was easier to take the next step: "I am really scared," Steve admitted.

I grinned: "Remember, I've done this just as many times as you have! Do you think I'm not scared?"

As we were entering the building from the back, I pushed the door and walked inside in front of him. Right as we were passing the doorway, I turned around and looked at Steve: I almost burst out in tears myself when I saw him crying. I held out my arms and embraced him in the best hug, my shaking body could provide. He hugged me like a child and started really sobbing into my shoulder. There was nothing I could say. Apparently the pressure of the past hour and a half (while we knew where the things were going, neither had the courage to come out in the open) really got to both us. As we stood, hugging, in the hallway, the moments of indecision passed. We sheared our strength and determination not to waist any of the energy spent on coming out to each other...

"Can we go to your room?" I asked, in another minute we resumed our walk to the Campus Police office. "Unluckly my roommate is home this weekend."

"Sure," Steve easily agreed. "I think I would like to walk there: it is a nice morning and a walk should help me relax and, may be, we can talk about ... you know ..."

"Great!" I interrupted him. "We can walk by my place. I want to show you where I live, and there are a couple of things I want to pick up there."

We walked into the office and I returned the key. I did my best to act like nothing was going on. I don't think it worked very well, but nobody said anything to me. As usual, I was offered a ride home, but this time I declined, stating that I was going to go for a walk (true, indeed). On that note, Steve and me left campus and started towards my apartment.

At least first two hundred yards we spent in silence: the decision made, what else could we talk about? As we were walking down the empty street this early Saturday morning, I seem to have lost all perception of the real world. Steve brought me back to reality.

"Mike, u-gh ... do you know ..., a-gh... how do I say it?"

"Do you mean to ask me if I know what I am doing? If so, the answer is 'NO'. Even less so, if you mean to ask me 'What are you getting me into!?' ... By the way, how old are you?"

"I turned 19 in August. You?"

"I'm 20 and glad that I will not be contributing to the delinquency of a minor." I replied and added promptly: "Not that it would have made any difference anyway."

Steve put his arm on my shoulder and said: "Thanks." I knew, he really meant it.

We paused, as we crossed the street. I put my arm around him for a brief moment and said into his ear: "I whish I could kiss you right now, but it looks like I will have to wait."

He didn't stop, but just smiled. It felt like it was the happiest day of my life, but I knew the deal was not done yet and another difficult part was ahead of us.

We got to my apartment pretty quickly. I didn't have too many things to do. First of all, I made sure there were no phone messages for me. Then I checked out the contents of my wallet and, upon a moments reflection, added another $50 to it from what I call "the cash bucket". At last, but probably the most important reason I went to my apartment any way, I emptied all my supplies of rubbers into my coat's pocket. I also produced a tube of KY jelly, and added to the generous collection of all kinds of rubbers in my pocket.

All the preparations took me about a minute and Steve didn't have a chance to get bored. He was rather preoccupied with all the posters in my living-room and I don't think he even saw what I was doing.

"Ready to go?" I asked, opening the door. "I always thought that expression was funny: it was I who had to come by the place, not you, yet you have to be ready..."

"Yeah, I've never thought of it ... Now that you mention it, it does sound funny," Steve smiled.

We came out of the building and continued our walk towards the Hampton Inn. I pretty much had nothing to say and I felt that Steve needed the time to think, so we walked in silence for the next 15 minutes.

"You want to get in from the back, so no one sees us?" he asked, as we turned the last corner before the building.

I figured that I had nothing to loose, so I said: "I don't care. None of the CMU students in their right mind are awake at 7am on Saturday morning; the hotel staff couldn't care less and I will do whatever you feel more comfortable with."

He smiled and turned towards the hotel lobby. As I correctly guessed, there was only one person at the front desk in the lobby and he recognized Steve, but couldn't care less who I was. He looked like he had been on the job for ever and ever and was really looking for nothing but his replacement. Nobody else was out, so the elevator quickly whisked us to the fifth floor of the hotel.

Last year on one occasion, I had an opportunity to stay at the Hampton Inn, thus I remembered the floor plan well. I also have been in too many hotels too many times in my life, so I could guess the room lay-outs as well. Turned out I was not too far off. When we entered the room, I noted that Steve didn't have too much stuff laying around. Most of his things were still in the boxes, stashed in the "closet" area to the right. The bathroom (with two sinks and a huge wall-mirror) was on the left. The room was totally typical, with a desk, a coffee table, low couch and a couple of chairs at the far wall, by the window; two beds, a little bigger than a double, but too small to be queen size, were of to the left, parallel to each other; at the feet of the beds, thus of to the right, the TV stood on the massive dresser. Once I saw the room, I immediately commented to myself that it looked like the long-faithful room at the Elliot hotel in Boston. There were only two differences -- quality of furniture and the price of rent.

The room-evaluation only took a few seconds, as I followed Steve inside, closed the door with my foot, grabbed him by the shoulder and turned around. There was only one thing I wanted to do at the moment and hearing the door click shot, I pulled Steve towards me, bend my neck down and kissed him, full on the lips. Although, I am sure, he was expecting something like that to happen, he was startled anyway. It took about a minute for him to relax and respond to me. He wrapped his arms around me and parted his lips. Our tungs met half-a-way into his mouth, dancing with each other, exploring each other's mouths. Our hands went all over the place, caressing the bodies through our clothes... After positively the longest kiss I have ever had, I came up for a breath. In one swift motion I locked the door behind me, and pulled Steve into the room.

No words were said, none were necessary. As we were walking to the far bed, Steve and I dropped our jackets on the floor and both walked out of our shoes. For the first time I had an opportunity to glance bellow his waist-line. His hard-on was rather evident, despite everything that may have been restraining it. Well, I was no better: my state of excitement was also very obvious by the front of my pants. It was time to part with those useless articles.

Just as I was thinking that, Steve said: "Let's get undressed."

In response to his statement, I turned around and put my hands on his waist. Touching the sides of his body all the way to his armpits, I moved his shirt up and over his head. He mirrored my movements just a second later. I moved my hands over his shoulders and down his smooth, hairless chest. When I brushed his nipples, moving my hands further down his body, I saw the front of his pants stretch out even further. With one hand I kept working on his belt buckle, while pulling him to me with my left hand and pushed both of us on to the top of the bed.

By the time we both were on top of the bed, we started kissing again. Both of our pants were unbuttoned and we started rubbing against each other, trying to get them off. As far as taking the pants off it didn't work very well, but the action of my cock rubbing against his, even though a number of layers of clothing, made me as turned on as ever. I was just about ready to "cream my shorts" and that wasn't the game plan.

I pulled away from Steve's embrace and got off the bed. Standing up, I pulled the legs of his pants, until they came all the way off. I gave myself 30 seconds to look at Steve's body, while taking off my own pants. His skin looked pale-white in the morning sun; his chest looked like a marble wave of a statue with two dark cherries on it. Apart from a patch of light-brown hair originating at his navel and traveling down into his tighty-whites, his upper body looked hairless to me. The underwear was yet another place were I wanted to look, but even more, I wanted to see what was hiding behind this well-worn and very stretched piece of white fabric. His eyes were closed, but his face was getting tense with anticipation. I knew, my 30 seconds were up.

As I kneeled down, I put my hands on his thighs, feeling his body tens and then slowly relax. I lowered my face and brushed my nose against the bugle in his underwear. I could smell the musky odor of his sweat and a million other things I could not recognize at the moment. I kissed his lower belly, all over it. I kissed both his upper thighs, and started slowly pulling down his underwear. While his underwear moved down, I kissed and licked all over his lower body, his thighs, his light-brown hair pubic hair. Just as I got to the base of his shaft, it was freed from his underwear and I felt it push up under my chin. As the underwear came down to Steve's knees, I brought my head up, totally freeing his cock. I looked at it. Oh, God, it was so perfect.

Steve's penis stood out at about 45 degree angle to his belly. It was circumcised and the head of his very straight 6" looked only slightly darker than the rest of his shaft. His balls were perfectly round and tightly drawn in the sack. There was only light hair on his upper thighs, getting darker and thicker down his legs. 'Enough looking, though,' I said to myself.

I kissed and licked between his legs and up to his balls. Apparently, I was pushing all the right buttons: Steve put his soft hands on my head and moaned lightly. I caressed his sack with my tung until it relaxed and extended slightly. I started moving to the second one, and graduating to both in just a moment. I sucked slowly on his balls, as my hands traveled up and down his body, caressing it in all sorts of places, touching his soft chest and pinching his wonderfully hard nipples on every other pass.

I continued in a similar fashion for about as long as my patience allowed, about 5 minutes. After that, I couldn't take it any longer. Of course, I loved the feel of his warm nuts in my mouth, but I desperately needed the real thing. Besides, my own cock was still trapped in my underwear and beginning to bother me. Not without disappointment, I let go of his nuts and slowly leaked my way up his dick to the mushroom-head. I held his cock with my right hand, while I slowly leaked and sucked the head. I could taste a million different things on the tip of his hot and silky head. I wanted more of it, I needed more of it, I wanted all of it in mouth NOW!

Still holding the bottom of Steve's cock with my right hand, I moved my head down over it. I slowed down and begun forcefully sucking on him, as I felt the head of his dick tickle the back of my throat. I made a tight ring with my lips around the base of his shaft and started the up-down motion with my head, never interrupting the sucking.

Just as I begun debating what should be my next move, I felt Steve tense-up and heard him hold his breath. I moved his cock half-a-way out of my throat and his orgasm erupted in my mouth. Steve came pretty hard, but I swallowed most of his wonderfully hot, sweet and salty cum. I milked him dry as he grew soft in my mouth.

I let go of his cock and hoped on the bed next to him. We frenched again, trading our tungs and Steve tasted his own juices that I saved for him in my mouth. He smiled just with his eyes and I knew, my efforts weren't wasted. I was still hard as a rock and desperately needed a release. I looked in Steve's deep-blue eyes and all I could whisper was "Ple-ease!"

Steve turned around on the bed and pulled down my boxer-shorts, as I lifted my hips in a faint attempt to help him. I almost came as the soft fabric brushed by the head of my cock, but I held on. I held on when, with out much prelude, Steve enclosed the head of my dick with his mouth. As he slowly sucked on it, he cuped my balls with his right hand and moved his left hand freely around my body. That, just like any other, tactic was pretty effective. It didn't take long and I felt the familiar tension in my upper thighs and groin, as I forcefully came into Steve's hot sucking mouth. I don't know just how much I shot, but it was definitely more than usual (just thinking of who was sucking on my dick made me half-orgasmic). Steve drank it all.

After I came back to my senses, I found Steve atop of me, with his lips open, not a half an inch away from my face, I could feel his warm breath on my eyes. We kissed and exchanged our juices again, me tasting my sperm in his mouth this time. I think I wasn't totally over my orgasm yet, when we rolled over and under the covers, falling asleep in each others arms.

Surprisingly, I woke up before noon. I was on my back, high to the head-board on the pillow. Without opening my eyes, I stretched out, just as I do every morning. I felt something warm on and off to the left of my chest; my hand brushed by some hair. "Cat?!" was my first reaction, reflecting back to the days when my Mom used to have a cat and it would come to my bed on a cold night, crawl under the covers and try to push me off. Slowly, my mind argued the plausibility of that, reinstating the events of last night along with it. I looked down at Steve snuggled next to me, sleeping soundly like a baby: he even had that angelic expression on his face. I was over-swept by a feeling... I didn't know what it was, but it felt like nothing I've ever felt before. I knew that the night was the turning point in my life, and I knew that Steve must be a major part of that new life.

The time of procrastinating in bed expired, as I couldn't hold my morning piss any longer. I had to get up and go to the bathroom! I slowly "deflated" my body and got out from under Steve, as I tried to get up without waking him up. He just moaned some things, then turned over and got up. I pissed and went back to the bedroom to try to locate some of my clothes. I stood next to the bed and looked at Steve sleeping. He looked like an angel, I swear! I couldn't hold myself: I bend over and kissed him on the half-open mouth. He woke up and appeared disoriented, as he saw me naked in front of him.

"Good morning, hon," I said, smiling.

"Mike... Shit, I thought it was all a dream..." he said, as he woke up completely.

"I hope not, I enjoyed it!" I responded, kissing him again.

"Me too," he said pulling away.

"I need a shower," I said. "Any chance I can get one here? Not much sense in taking a shower and putting on dirty underwear, but it's better then staying all dirty."

"Sure," Steve said, but I could feel, he wasn't sure about something. I didn't move, as I looked at him, showing that I expected him to explain. "Can I ... can I come too?" he finally asked, tentatively, looking at me with a huge question mark in his eyes.

"Shit, I thought you'd never ask! C'mon," I said, relieved and headed back to the bathroom. Steve followed. I turned the water on, and adjusted it to my standard of "relaxing shower". "How is that?" I asked, letting him touch the rushing stream.

He said nothing, instead stepping into the tub and motioning for me to join him. I did as directed without any unnecessary words. He got wet and let me under the stream. As we were shifting positions, our cocks brushed against each other, sending an electrical shock up my spine and making my cock swell again. After we switched positions again, I got the soap, soaped up my hands and started washing Steve's back, slowly touching every spot of him. Up and down the back, around the neck and down his chest, my hands washed and caressed his body in one slow motion. I made rounds around his pecks and thumbed his nipples. Continuing the wash, I moved down bellow his waist, still standing behind him, lightly embarrassing him. My cock was really hard by then, it stuck out in front of me and slipped between Steve's wet legs.

I took a step back and kneeled down. Steve spread his legs and I continued rubbing my hands all around his ass, up and down the crack, massaging around his tight pucker. With that, my other hand moved from his balls to the stroking his hard dick and back between his thighs, massaging and stroking everywhere. I got up and kissed his neck from behind. He tilted his head backwards and we frenched for a while as I fingered him. Steve broke the kiss after some short 30 seconds and whispered: "Fuck me, please."

It was all the encouragement I needed, and, as Steve bend over forward supporting himself from the tub's edge, I replaced one finger in his ass with two. My soapy hand lubricated his tight ass and pleasured him at the same time. When he repeated his request, I pulled my hand out and positioned the head of my dick at the entrance to his love-channel. I stood straight and slowly applied pressure forward. It was the first asshole I've ever fucked and it was really tight. The head slipped in and I saw and felt all muscles tighten in Steve's body. I remained still for a while before I moved more. Steve twitched and gasped from pain.

"Relax, man, I know it hurts, but it will get better in just a sec," I told him in the most encouraging tone of voice I could. Apparently my advice hit it home, and Steve relaxed so I felt my cock slipping in without much pressure. I moved it most of the way in and out very slowly and carefully, until I felt him relax and loosen up. As I increased the pace of my strokes, I bend forward and reached around his body. I felt his cock with my right hand and it was really hard. I stroked it, as my left hand reached his chest and grabbed his left nipple, twisting it. Steve moaned in pleasure, and I continued to fuck him in long slow strokes.

Steve's ass felt wonderfully hot and grabbed really tight on my dick. I was already on the edge, when I felt his cock stiffen up in my hand and the muscles in his butt tighten even more. Steve let out a short cry, more like a whoop, as he forcefully came into my hand. His orgasm sent me over the top and I exploded in his ass. I came in about six or seven jets of sperm in his ass, my knees weakened, my senses totally leaving me. The next thing I remember was leaning against the wall of the shower, feeling the water on my softening cock.

We finished our shower, washing each other with our hands again, all the way from top to bottom. He got out first and I turned the water off and followed. Steve got the towel and dried me off, following his example, I did the same. As I finished drying off his feet, I stood up, put the towel around his shoulders, wrapped him up and hugged him. He put his arms around my waist, grabbed one with the other and just let them hang there. We stood there, just hugging, for the longest time, and I just couldn't let go. For the first time in my life I felt complete, I felt safe and comfortable, having that person stand next to me. I felt his breath on my neck and his cock rising, pushing against my leg.

"Mike," Steve whispered, "I think I owe you a favor!"

"Let's go back to bed," I answered.

We walked back to the room, me leading him by the hand, and sat next to each other on the bed. He pushed me gently backwards and I laid on my back on the bed, propping my waist by pillows, as he positioned himself between my legs. He reached over, spreading my ass-chicks and lightly rubbing my asshole. It was still moist from the shower, as was his dick, so he decided to go at it dry.

We lay there, in silence, for a few minutes. I was not exactly in the best mood, waiting to hear what he had to say, but I sensed that any action from me at the moment will not do the situations any good. Indeed, if there was something to worry about , it was too late and the best I could hope for was finding out exactly what I should be looking forward to. That I would find out sooner or later anyhow. On the other hand, if there was nothing to worry about, I would be best advised to take it slow on the kid: I liked him, I wanted him, I wanted more of him and it would do wonders to listen to him, at least once in a while.

Just as my thoughts shaped up, he stirred. "Mike, I don't even know how to say it..." he started. I stayed silent, not moving but just looking at him. "I can't!" and his eyes filled with tears.

"Can't what, baby?" I asked gently, wiping the tears from this face with the back of my hand. "You can tell me anything, anything at all. I promise, I won't be mad at you, or anything." The later I wasn't so sure of, but what good would it have done to tell him otherwise? "Listen to this," I continued. "I feel I should tell you: last night was something really special for me. I don't know what it is, I don't how it came about to be that, but it was. I think there is something about you, and it just makes me... I don't know how to explain it, but I hope you understand, or at least will with time."

As I finished, he looked at me, tears filling up his eyes. I slowly moved my head forward and kissed his eyes, lightly on the lips, continued down, kissing every part of his face, his neck and moving down to the chest, I stopped at his cherry-red nipples, giving one a squeeze and forcefully sucking on the other one. He moaned loudly, but I couldn't understand whether that was from what I was doing or from his hurt and indecision. I honestly did not intend for us to have any more sex, and by no means not any more unprotected sex, at least not until he told me what the fuck was the story with him and STD's because there obviously was one. As I moved my lips and tung all over this upper body, licking and sucking, all those thoughts evaporated from my mind. I could feel Steve throbbing shaft against my chest, and I was in no better shape.

I moved down between his legs and took his heavy balls into my warm, wet mouth. I continued to roll them around in there, as my hands moved his legs apart and begun to caress his inner thighs. I continued doing so for a couple of minutes, but and wouldn't stop till he actually begged me to take him in my mouth. "Oh-h... Mike, au--uh-h! This feels so great! Suck me, suck me, please!..." he moaned, as I let go of his balls and moved my face over his shaft. About that time my hands have found their way underneath his legs and under his ass. Just when my warm, wet mouth was enclosing the head of his cock, my hands spread the cheeks of his ass and the index finger of my right hand found its way to the hot pink rosebud of his ass. I stretched his pucker with my finger and deep-throated him at the same time. I didn't mean to send him over the edge just yet (well, for that matter, if I've given it at least a half a second of thought, I would have never let him cum in my mouth), but, before I knew it, he was coming in my mouth with the God-knows-what-number orgasm of the day. To my amassment, the action got me heated enough and his orgasm brought me up to the top, letting me down in yet another very powerful orgasm practically without stimulation.

I collapsed on the floor next to the bed, completely "sexed out" and unable to move for the time being. My brain was the first part of my body to return back to operational condition: 'Oh, Christ!' was its first reaction. 'What the fuck have you done! The fucking kid probably is HIV positive and has a whole bouquet of other STDs just for you! When are you going to fucking learn, finally!' While my brain was having this sort of pleasant exchange with the rest of my body, I more or less fully recovered: at least enough to get back onto the bed and lay down next to Steve. I hugged him once again, kissing his neck.

"Mike, you are the best!" he whispered in my ear.

"Not bad yourself, kid," I replied smilingly. "If you could just tell me what the fuck is between you and STDs, it would make my life a hell of a lot better."

He visibly tensed once again, but I seemed to have ignored it. It was about time I made him spill his guts on the topic if I ever wanted to hear anything from him on any other, not to mention finding out the answer to this, rather peculiar question.

I found this among my other work that hasn't been posted yet, when I was cleaning up my own archive. This is one of my earlier fantasy works. I know I have more parts to this story, but I can't find them now. I'll post them when I find them. Meanwhile, comments, suggestions and requests will be cheerfully entertained and replied to at rpquortant@hotmail.com

(: Somehow I'm always able to find that special delete button for all those flames.