The Lifeguard

By Orrin Rush (Of Blessed Memory)

Published on Jan 26, 2001

Gay

Disclaimer: The following is a work of fiction. If you are

offended by graphic descriptions of homosexual acts, go

somewhere else.

Copyright c 2001 by Orrin C. Rush. All rights reserved.

Neither this story nor any parts of it may be distributed

electronically or in any other manner without the express,

written consent of the author.

This is a work of fiction, any resemblance of the characters

to anyone living or dead is pure coincidence and not

intended. They are all products of the author's imagination.


THE LIFEGUARD

Chapter 37

That evening, I told Eric about Annie's call. He didn't seem

to think much of it.

The next day at lunch, though, he admitted that his curiosity

had gotten the best of him and he'd called Sarah to see what

was up. "She assured me that Annie was just fine, but that's

all she'd say. I wonder."

"OK, I'll say it then," I told him. "I wonder if she's met

'someone'."

"Maybe prospects of a new son-in-law are looking up for us,"

he commented.

"Us?"

"Hell, I'm the mean old stepmother," he grinned. "I may be

just a little older, but I love her as much as if she were my

own daughter."

I just grinned. Not only was this wonderful guy the center

of MY life, he was an integral part of our family.

The idea of grandchildren was also kind of appealing.


Even though we'd just bought it, the Catalina Long Beach and

Pacific Railroad had a regularly scheduled Board of Directors

Meeting coming up. When I talked to him about it, George,

the President, asked that we go ahead with it so he could get

more direction from us. He had a lot of items on his agenda.

It was a far different meeting from the last. Dave Burdette

was a lot friendlier - he'd paid off his loans on the

Railroad's property, and I'd kept my word about having all

traces of the transactions deleted from the deeds. He

trusted me now, and even though I'd caught him with his hand

in the till, I respected him.

No Edgar, and the atmosphere was chummy and relaxed.

The first order of business was the re-structuring that had

taken place. CLP RR was now a separate entity, concentrating

on the business of running a railroad, nothing else. George

reported that this change had done wonders for morale

throughout the organization. There was, however, a lot of

curiosity about us, the new owners, and the other businesses

we were involved in.

I promised him that I'd talk to the people who published our

internal newsletter and see if they could provide copy for

the railroad's internal organ.

Next, the Treasurer joined us for financial reporting. Both

freight and passenger revenues were up, but the savings that

would result from reorganization hadn't had time to have a

major effect. Nevertheless, they were doing very well.

George reported on personnel changes, handing out a list of

people no longer with the company and their replacements. I

quickly noted that less than half of those who had been let

go or quit had been replaced. George was getting rid of the

dead wood, probably Edgar's cronies. We approved his changes

and assured him that he would have our continued support.

Next was an issue that Edgar had shelved for years - a high

speed passenger train on the Coast commuter routes. Did we

want to pursue it or forget about it permanently?

Feasability studies conducted several years ago had shown

that it would be a moneymaker, and Federal Funds were still

available to help defray the costs.

Bill suggested that the survey be updated as well as cost

estimates so we could make a decision based on current, not

obsolete information.

George had a whole list of smaller items that were discussed,

and in every case, we approved his recommended action.

Then Eric came up with something that even I didn't expect.

"How many rail cars do we own?" he asked.

"Around 14,000," George answered.

"What do they look like?"

"Well, they're maroon with white lettering," George said.

"Why?"

Poor George got flustered at this question, and seeing this,

Eric stepped in. "I'm not trying to put you on the spot, I'm

just curious and may have an idea."

"They've always been like that," George said. "Pretty drab,

I admit."

"Maybe we should change that," Eric suggested. "Hear me out,

would you?" We all nodded, not having a clue where he was

going with this.

"We have two things: A bunch of drab cars nobody notices

running around the country and a highly profitable passenger

route along the Coast. Why not have one advertise the other?

"California's a vacation destination, and we need to let

people know about the scenic ride we provide up and down the

coast. We could do that nationwide if we repainted our cars.

"I don't know if there are any rules or regulations about

this type of advertising, but if it's not forbidden or

illegal, I think we should look into it. We could paint them

with a scene of the sun setting over the ocean, and a slogan

like 'Ride the Catalina rails along the Pacific' or something

the ad guys come up with. With 'Catalina' in our name, we'll

get noticed for sure."

"I don't know of any prohibition on it," George said.

"Particularly since we'd be advertising ourselves, not some

commercial product."

"How often do you repaint the cars?" Eric asked.

"Most are on a four year schedule. Any that get damaged are

repainted as part of the repair process," George answered.

"What I have in mind will cost more, but all that free

advertising is hard to pass up. I propose that we look into

it, and so move."

The vote was unanimously in favor.

Later, when I asked him when he'd come up with that idea, he

claimed that it hit him while listening to the earlier part

of the meeting. Always surprises. I loved it!


As earlier arranged, Eric and Ryan went out by themselves for

some "Bro talk." Karl and I were planning to have dinner

together then turn in early.

Over dinner we discussed the Railroad. He was still

surprised to find himself and both of his sons on the Board

of Directors, but was enjoying it.

Eventually the conversation turned to family. Karl really

surprised me when he asked how everything was going between

Eric and me.

My first reaction was to tell him it wasn't any of his damned

business, but thinking about it, I realized his question was

reasonable. A father who cared.

"If it's possible, I love him more every day," I told Karl,

sincerely meaning every word.

"That's not obvious or anything like that," he chuckled. "Eric

tells me the same thing, but I just wanted to hear it from

you. I know Eric's happier than he's ever been in his life,

something that makes me very happy and proud.

"He went through some pretty rough times coming to terms with

himself," Karl continued, "if he hasn't already, you'll have

to get him to tell you about that. Quite frankly, until you

came into the picture, he never was what I'd call happy or

content. Kind of floundering around without any real

direction.

"He's changed my life a great deal, too," I told him. "His

energy rubs off, and I'm doing things I wouldn't even have

considered a few years ago."

"I never had any real problem with Eric's being gay, once I

understood what was going on. I did worry a lot about what

direction his life would take as a gay man, but his finding

you has taken care of all of those concerns. I just wish Ryan

were so lucky."

I didn't want to pry or mention Eric's concerns, but Karl

continued.

"I don't have any idea what the hell's bothering him, but I

sense that something is. That 'shotgun wedding' was a

coverup, a band-aid for whatever his problem is. Don't get

me wrong, I love Diane, and hope they make a go of it, and I'm

kind of pleased to have at least one grandchild," he said

smiling kind of wistfully.

"It's kind of ironic," he said, "I worry more about my

'straight' son than I do my gay one."

The next morning Eric looked pretty sad. "Have fun last

night?" I asked.

"It was fun then, but I'm paying for it this morning," he

groaned. "I tried to get Ryan drunk so maybe he'd talk, and

in the process, drank a bit too much myself. I sure wish Mom

was here with her magic potion."

"Won't I do?" I asked, trying to kiss him.

"I'll bet my breath could drop an elephant," he said,

wrenching away and heading for the bathroom, his morning

woody waving in front of him.

"Well, did you learn anything?" I asked when he returned.

"He's still in denial. He talks a good game, but I know him

too well. Something's eating him and he refuses to talk

about it."

I thought a minute about breaking confidences, but decided to

go ahead. "Your father's concerned, too," I told him.

"I know," he said, "We've talked about it. Whatever dark

demons are bugging Ryan, he ain't talking. I came straight

out and asked him, but he denied any problems. I still don't

believe him, but, if he won't talk, there's nothing I can

do. It'll come out eventually."

"Your Dad and I had a real nice talk last night."

"Oh shit! What'd he tell you?"

"No big secrets, dammit," I chuckled, "just a few tidbits

that I want to hear more about from YOU."

"Such as?" he asked warily.

"Your coming out, for one. He didn't go into any detail, but

hinted that it might be an interesting story."

"Oh that! No big deal. Maybe someday, you nosy fucker," he

said, chuckling.

"Don't you understand?" I said seriously. "I want to know

everything there is to know about you, love of my life."

"Don't get sappy on me," he kidded. "One of these days when

we have a LOT of time, I'll tell you the whole story."

"Fair enough," I agreed, helping myself to a delayed morning

kiss.


Dean wanted to meet with all of us, saying he had an idea.

"Want to do an easy one?" he asked.

"What?" Eric asked.

"We've got a few acres on the coast that'd be perfect for a

Ritz Carlton resort. I'm pretty sure they'd jump at it."

"Whoa! Stop everything!" I yelled. Eric and Tina looked at

me kind of funny. "Dean, I know you're relatively new around

here, and I appreciate your bringing us in on this, but you

don't have to bring us in on everything."

"But this could be a $50 million project," he protested.

"I know, and I also know we have 300 or more like it, most of

them this size or bigger." I paused for a minute. "The

point I'm trying to make is that we hired you to run this

outfit. We have confidence in your ability, and we don't

need to know everything you're doing."

"I didn't know," he said. "For me, a fifty million dollar

project would be as big as any I've ever worked on. I didn't

want to make that kind of commitment without your approval."

"You're running the Silicon Valley project, have you figured

the gross on that one?" I asked.

"Somewhere between four and five billion," he answered, "raw

land alone."

"Then don't let a piddly little $50 million deal get to you.

We're behind you. I'm telling you this to let you know your

assessment of how we operate, getting the best people, then

turning them loose is how we really do operate."

"I appreciate the vote of confidence," he said, smiling now.

"I see now that you expect me to take the initiave."

"That's how we work," Eric said, reinforcing what I'd said.

"Since we're here, why not tell us about it," I suggested.

He gave us a very quick outline on how it would work. Ritz

Carlton would check out the site, do their own studies, then

give us the plans for what they wanted. We'd build whatever

they wanted then lease it back to them.

"You damned near scared the crap out of poor old Dean," Tina

commented, laughing.

"I just wanted him to know we don't babysit our executives,"

I told her. "He's got to understand that we expect him to

make decisions on his own."

"You got your point across," Eric assured me.


"Remember when you ran into Tommy?" Eric asked. I nodded.

"Well, I ran into one of my old 'playmates' today."

"It doesn't seem to affect you the way Tommy did me."

"It was kind of funny, actually. He's sure changed - a pot

gut and his hair is fading fast, and soooo damned

conservative."

"Does he know you're gay?" I asked.

"He didn't, but he does now. I told him, just for shits and

giggles."

"How'd he take it?"

"Not well," Eric answered amid peals of laughter. "You

should have seen his face! Sheer panic! He remembered our

playtime together, and I let him know I remembered too by

telling him that I'd never say a word to anyone. He changed

the subject so fast I got dizzy," he laughed.

"That's something you've never gotten around to telling me

about," I said.

"What's that?" Eric asked.

"Your 'coming out' story, what happened."

"Oh, no big deal, I just realized I liked dick. That's all

there is to it."

"Don't give me that," I told him. "I went through it too,

and it wasn't just one day you're straight, the next you're

not. There's a lot more to it than that."

"I've never thought much about it, to tell you the truth. It

was gradual, just kinda happened. No 'burning bush'

revelation or anything like that."

"I'd still like to hear about it though," I pushed.

"You want all the gory details? All the little boys' pee

pee's I played with?"

"If you feel comfortable telling me about it," I told him.

"Sure, why not, you pervert," he said, laughing. "In the

beginning..."

"You don't have to go back THAT far," I chuckled.

"Well, you wanted the WHOLE story, and now you're gonna get

it.

"Although I'd noticed a few crotches before, mainly on adult

men, particularly those that wore 501's, things really

started happening when I hit the seventh grade. You know,

the first time we had PE and had to take showers together.

"I checked everybody out, as I guess every guy does, and

realized that I was pretty average in 'that' department. The

Junior High that I went to was a lot bigger school than the

one I'd gone to before, so there were a lot of new kids there.

"I went out for the swim team, and didn't know anybody

there. It didn't take long to make a lot of new friends, and

one of them was Nelson, the guy I ran into today.

"I'd already learned about masturbation, and whacked my

weenie whenever I had a chance. At 13, I couldn't cum yet,

but I sure had some exciting dry orgasms, all self inflicted

up to that point.

"Nelson and I became good buddies, and he invited me to his

house for a sleepover. As I guess is usual, we went to bed

and talked. Nelson asked if I jacked off, and I eagerly told

him 'every chance I have'. That, of course, led to the 'do

you wanna do it now?' invitation.

"Hell yes I wanted to do it right then. I was always ready!"

"Not much has changed," I observed dryly.

"Oh yes it has. Could you handle eleven times in one day?

That was my personal best."

I just shook my head.

"Anyway, to continue..." he said. "Nelson was kind of shy,

so he waited for me to push down the covers and whip it out.

He watched me flog it for a few minutes then joined in. No

lube, no nothing, just flying fists. I watched him and he

watched me. I was fascinated because he was a lot bigger

than I was at that time. It didn't take long to get that

'good feeling', and that was pretty much that.

"Soon after that, Ryan caught me pounding it. 'Jesus Christ,'

he said, 'use some cream or vaseline or you won't have any

skin left!' I took his advice and found some Jergen's

Lotion. Man, that was SO much better.

"The next time Nelson stayed over, I introduced him to the

lotion trick. He thought it was great, and spent half the

night pounding himself. I was so fascinated watching him

that I kept right up. I think it was two or three sleepovers

later that I came up with the bright idea of doing it for

him, and hopefully he might do it for me.

"That worked, too. He was as eager as I was, and we pounded

the piss out of each other. Now remember, neither of us

could cum yet, so as soon as we'd 'feel good' we'd quit

jacking. Then, one night he didn't stop working on me, just

kept on going after I'd had my dry orgasm, and lo and behold,

something happened, and all sorts of stuff spurted out. It

kinda hurt that first time, kinda like the cork popped out,

but I was so excited I didn't mind. We'd just been stopping

too soon. Pretty soon, Nelson was cumming too.

"This was all 'feel good' stuff. I never thought about him

at all, in fact, I didn't particularly like him, but he was

available and made me feel good, so there wasn't any guilt or

thoughts about possibly being gay, which I didn't really

understand anyway.

"This went on for the next two years, particularly during

summer vacation when we had more opportunity. Nelson said he

was doing it with several other guys, but I hadn't done

anything with anybody else. During that first summer, we

tried 'cornholing' but we were both so inept and uninformed

that it never worked right. When we did manage to get the

head of our dick in the other guy's butt, the pain was so bad

that we quit right there.

"During this time, I had a growth spurt - all over. My dick

grew more than two inches, and man was I ever happy! Since

it didn't get a whole lot bigger when it was soft, the only

one who knew about it was Nelson. He was jealous as hell,

but I was so damned proud I could hardly stand it.

"Nelson evidently told the other guys he was screwing around

with because they soon joined us, singly and in groups for

our jackoff sessions. I didn't mind. They all were

fascinated with my big dick and wanted to play with it. What

the hell, more 'feel good', and I didn't mind reciprocating,

except for one, Otto.

"Otto had a really fat dick and was uncut, and never seemed

to be able to get really hard like the rest of us. I thought

his dick was ugly and only 'did' him if I had to.

All we ever did was sit around and jack each other, cum, then

that was it. No emotion, and, in my case no real physical

attraction.

"Also around this time, all the guys were getting interested

in girls. Not particularly caring, but since it seemed to be

the thing to do, and not wanting to be left out, I acted like

I was interested too. No problem there, they were all over

me. I went along with it because it was expected, but my

heart really wasn't in it. All my other 'stroke' buddies had

girlfriends too, but that didn't slow down our sessions

together. My attitude was that it was so much easier to get

my rocks off that way rather than going to all the trouble of

trying to get a girl to let me fuck her.

"Everything changed the first year of high school. Don moved

in a few blocks up the street, and was also a freshman and on

the swim team. It didn't take long and we were the best of

buds. Sleepovers developed fast, and Don, being much more

experienced than I was, quickly taught me a lot of new stuff

about 'feeling good'.

"I was so impressed with his 'worldliness' that I followed

him around like a puppy dog. He also had a big dick and lots

of muscles which I noticed for the first time.

"His dick was almost as long as mine, and a real beauty. For

the first time, stroking him meant more than just 'returning

the favor' to me. Don also liked to fuck. When he first

suggested it, I chickened out, but he did a sales job, and

finally, I let him. He loosened me up with his finger, and

he slid right in. It hurt like hell, but he made me wait

until the pain stopped, and then it wasn't so bad, tolerable,

barely.

"He wanted me to fuck him, too. The first time was awful. I

guess I didn't loosen him up enough because when I tried to

stick it in, he was so tight that it hurt my dick too much to

proceed. We gave up, that time.

"I thought about what'd happened. The 'idea' of fucking and

getting fucked was exciting, but I wasn't too wild about the

pain involved.

"The next time that Don wanted to fuck me, I totally

surprised myself by readily agreeing. I guess my

subconscious had felt something that my conscious mind

hadn't. It went much better this time. It didn't hurt, but

it wasn't all that wonderful either. When it was my turn to

fuck him, he told me that it'd be easier this time. He

wanted it, and he had already prepared his butt for me.

"It was. Again, no pain, and once I was fully buried in him

and started moving, it felt damned good. Still tight, but

not painfully so. From there, nature kicked in and I fucked

the hell out of him. What really surprised me was that he

seemed to be enjoying it. In fact, he was REALLY enjoying

it, moaning and groaning and pushing into me. For some

reason, this was a turnon to me, and I had the greatest

orgasm of my life.

"After getting it closer to 'right', we practiced a lot. I

reached the point where I couldn't wait for our next

session. I didn't particularly know why, but I loved it when

he fucked me, even though I never could cum while it was

happening. I didn't know I was supposed to! Don however,

was different. When I'd fuck him, he'd cum all over the bed

without even touching himself.

"Over Christmas, Don and his family went on vacation. He was

really excited the next time we got together. He proceeded

to show me what he was excited about. He'd learned some new

'stuff'.

"We got naked in a hurry, then he took my cock and put it

into his mouth. I was shocked that he'd do such a 'queer'

thing, but it felt so good my attention soon turned to what

he was doing. After a few minutes of this, he raised up and

asked me how I liked it. I groaned and he went back to

work. He could only get about half of it in his mouth, but

that was enough.

"I couldn't help it. I was about to cum and didn't know what

to do, whether to stop him, or just go ahead and let it fly.

I warned him, but he kept at it, and I had another first.

"Then, he wanted me to suck him, promising that I'd like it,

and he'd tell me what to do. I balked. I don't know why,

but I talked him into fucking me instead.

"Here, he showed me something else new. Instead of lying on

my stomach and letting him pump away, he turned me on my back

and pulled up my legs. This was a LOT better! That's the

best fuck I'd had so far. I didn't cum, but I got hard and

stayed that way for the first time.

"That session with Don was a turning point for me. I started

thinking - with my big head instead of the little one. What

Don and I were doing was definitely 'queer'. We were doing

the same things that the 'faggots' and 'cocksuckers' we

sneered at did, and I allowed myself to accept, for the first

time, that I really, really liked it, and that I kind of

liked Don, too.

"It was confusing. I knew I was supposed to like fucking

girls, but I wasn't really interested, and hadn't put in any

real effort to go beyond 'First Base' with Linda, my steady

girlfriend, even though she subtly encouraged me.

"Mom and Dad had an office/study at home, and Mom's side of

the room was filled with books on psychology, so I went

looking to see if I could learn anything about the way I was

feeling.

"Mom was way ahead of me. My relationship with Don hadn't

gone unnoticed, and she knew that, eventually, I would get

curious and try to figure out what was going on. She was

prepared. There were several books on homosexuality, but the

one to catch my eye was "The Joy of Gay Sex".

"I 'borrowed' it, and read it cover-to-cover. It took a while

because I was real careful that the book wasn't off the shelf

long enough for Mom to notice. I was amazed that it

described everything that Don and I were doing, and quite a

few other things so matter-of-factly.

"The one part that I couldn't understand was the 'love'

aspect. Hell, I certainly didn't 'love' Don. We'd certainly

never kissed or done anything like that. Everything we did

centered around our dicks, nothing more. That realization,

however, opened up new trains of thought. Yeah, I liked his

dick. A lot. I even thought about it when we weren't

together. I got kind of a thrill holding it, playing with

it, and having him put it up my butt was feeling better all

the time, particularly in the new position. Maybe putting it

in my mouth wouldn't be so bad, either. The prospect gave me

an instant, involuntary boner. Hell, whenever I jacked off,

I thought about Don's dick then, too. Yeah, I guess I was

queer.

"The next time Don and I got together, he gave me an

incredible blow job. Watching him while his head bobbed up

and down, I saw him differently. I noticed his body, the

hardness of his developing muscles, and his hard dick

throbbing. I was so aroused by what I saw that my orgasm

took me by surprise. When it happened, I wasn't even paying

any attention to the sensations on my dick, but on Don's body

before me.

"When it was my turn, I agreed, hesitantly, not wanting Don

to know how eager I really was. I certainly didn't want him

to think I was queer!

"Awkward as it was, I just opened my mouth and stuck it in.

When I closed my lips around the head, it was a really weird

feeling, so different from anything I'd ever had there. I

didn't know what to do next, but Don coached me. 'Use your

tongue,' he said, and cautioned 'watch your teeth'.

"I started licking around the head of his dick, and

definitely liked what I was doing. I swirled my tonge around

him some more, then gradually moved down his shaft, still

licking. When his dick bumped the back of my mouth, I gagged

and had to back off to keep from getting sick, but didn't

waste any time getting it back in my mouth.

"My attention was focused on his dick and how it felt in my

mouth. It felt so good, so natural, and I was loving it.

The only thing that bothered me was what to do when he came.

I was undecided. I was a little scared about him unloading

in my mouth. I'd tasted my own cum, of course, and it was

rather tasteless, but knowing how much Don shot, I wasn't

sure I wanted all that stuff in my mouth.

"He warned me, but just as the first shot exploded in my

mouth. The surprise made me jump back, and I finished him

off with my hand. Nevertheless, I still had almost a

mouthful of him, and it tasted completely different from my

own, kind of sweet, not bad at all. I rolled it around in my

mouth then swallowed.

"Don was pleased, and I realized that, to me, that was the

most important thing. That thought shocked me. All I'd ever

cared about before was how I felt. Now, I was really

confused.

"I thought about it a lot. What was happening to me? Why

was I all-of-a-sudden caring about how Don felt? In the

past, I'd stroked him mechanically so he'd cum. That was

only because I knew that afterward he'd do the same to me.

Fucking was a little different. I knew he liked it when I

fucked him, but my main interest was in how it felt to me.

He'd been a hole to put my dick into that felt good. Why was

I suddenly considering how it felt to him?

"What really blew me away was that I realized that I wanted

his lips somewhere other than on my dick. I wanted them on

mine.

"For the next few weeks, Don and I engaged in a mutual

suckfest. We discovered that lying side by side, we could do

each other at the same time, good old 69. It didn't take me

long to realize that I was getting more out of the dick in my

mouth than the mouth on mine. Don usually came first, then

finished me off when I could concentrate.

"Then everything came to a halt. Don's father got

transferred to the East Coast, and within weeks he was gone.

"Our final 'session' together was intense. We sucked each

other off, fucked each other, then, wanting more, jacked each

other off. I still wanted more and tried to kiss him. 'No

way,' he told me, 'that'd be queer, and I'm sure not that

way!'

"Confused by that statement, and feeling abandoned, I went

into a real downer. Naturally, Mom and Dad noticed. They

were sympathetic, but I had no idea what they were thinking.

Hell, I didn't even know what I was thinking myself!

"It got worse. I'd lost my best friend and fuck buddy, and I

wasn't handling it well at all. I missed him enormously and

couldn't think about anything but him. It got to the point

where I was a total asshole, and when my grades started

slipping, Mom got really concerned.

"Growing up with a Mom who was a Psychiatrist, there wasn't

any real stigma about getting help, but I was still very

leery when she suggested that I talk with one of the other

Doctors in her office. I didn't feel ready to lay my secrets

bare to ANYONE. Even though Mom assured me that whatever I

revealed would never be disclosed to anyone, including her, I

still wasn't willing.

"She didn't nag me, just reminded me occasionally that help

was available if I wanted it. Stubborn as usual, I held out.

"My life, as I knew it, was crumbling around me. I didn't

pay that much attention because the funk I was in didn't

allow me to see what was happening. All I could think of was

Don and what he'd done to me. It was all his fault, I

selfishly thought. Poor me.

"My friends at school were avoiding me. In a way, I didn't

blame them because I didn't like me much either.

"The final blow came when Linda unceremoniously dumped me.

Not only was it a blow to my ego, but her parting shots hit

too close to home. 'What are you, queer or something? All

you ever talk about is Don. Are you in love with him or

something? You don't even know I exist anymore.'

"That did it. Here I was, a Junior in High School, and about

to be branded a queer. I knew what that meant. I'd been

popular and had lots of friends, but, unless I did something

fast, all that was about to change. The prospect wasn't

inviting.

"I gave in and talked to Mom. Instinctively she knew I had

some heavy shit to unload and wouldn't be particularly

comfortable with any of the other shrinks in her office that

I knew. There was a new one, Dr. Michaels, who I hadn't even

met, and she suggested I talk with him. She put it in a way

that made me feel better. Just 'talk' with him, not go for

counseling, or therapy. She didn't give me a chance to

change my mind, and I saw him the next day.

"He was young! At that time, anyone over 30 was 'old' in my

opinion. Dr. Michaels looked to be in his late 20s, and made

me comfortable right away, letting me work into my 'problem'

in my own time, never rushing me. After skirting the issue

for a while, I just blurted it out, 'I think I'm queer' I

told him.

"'Gay, Eric,' he gently corrected me, 'what makes you think

that?'

"I didn't know how to put my feelings into words, so I hemmed

and hawed around the subject, not really telling him

anything. Finally, he asked me if there was 'someone else'

involved. That was the 'kick' I needed. It was so much

easier talking about Don than it was talking about myself.

"I warmed to the subject, and before I knew it, I'd told him

everything, in graphic detail, and in the process, told him a

lot more about myself than I ever intended. When I finished

the story, I asked him if that made me 'queer', and again he

corrected me. 'Gay' he said.

"Knowing shrinks and how they operated, I didn't expect a

direct answer, but I got more than just another question from

him. 'There isn't a test that I know of to determine if

you're gay or straight,' he told me. 'Only you can decide

that.'

"Some people are attracted to members of their own sex,' he

went on. 'It's not a choice they make, but, I believe, a

genetic predisposition. There isn't a whole lot anybody can

do about it, unless you choose to repress those feelings,

something I definitely don't recommend. It's not something

you have to come to terms with right this very instant, so

don't push yourself to make a decision. We'll talk some

more, and maybe I can help you figure it out. What we need

to do right now is work on getting the rest of your life back

on track.

"We talked some more, and I started feeling better. There

was hope. What really made me feel better was the fact that

I'd actually told someone about what was bothering me. Was I

or wasn't I? That was still undetermined, but at least I had

somebody to talk to about it."

I had sat silently through his narrative, nodding but not

making any comments. He paused and took a big swig on his

drink.

"You're right," he told me. "There was a whole lot more to

'coming out' than just one day deciding I liked men. I

haven't thought about that time in my life for years, and

telling the man I love all about it feels pretty good."

"It wasn't easy for me, either," I told him, giving him a big

hug.

"There's more," he said, "and since I'm on a roll, you're

going to hear the rest of it.

"Here goes. I spent over three hours talking with Dr.

Michaels that afternoon and it helped a lot. The immediate

problem wasn't whether I was gay or not, but putting my life

back in order. He steered me in that direction and as

shrinks do, let me find my own solutions.

"Just having talked about my situation helped a lot. I felt

better about myself and realized how obsessed I'd become

about Don and my confused sexuality. I still had a life to

live, and that's what I needed to concentrate on. In a short

time I'd changed from an outgoing, happy guy into an

introverted, selfish asshole, and I needed to change that.

"Instead of brooding about what Linda might tell others, I

decided to go on the offensive. Action instead of words.

"Now that I was no longer 'attached' to Linda, all it took

were a few smiles and the girls were all over me. Frankly, I

really enjoyed the attention, and started dating several of

them. No promises, no games, just social, and I had to admit

to myself, a lot of fun.

"The guys who had been avoiding me noticed my changed

attitude and my relationship with them returned to normal.

If Linda had spread any rumors, it didn't seem to matter. I

was at least acting 'normal'.

"Mom and Dad were great about the whole thing, never asking

questions or nosing into whatever it was that had been

bothering me. They figured, correctly, that when I was ready

to talk about it, I would.

"I continued seeing Dr. Michaels on a regular basis. He never

approved nor disapproved of the actions I was taking to make

my life bearable again, but did encourage me to leave my

options open.

"I was really comfortable talking with him, and we explored my

sexuality a little at every session. Since I evidently hadn't

shocked him with my earlier graphic descriptions of what Don

and I 'did' together, we now talked about how I felt when we

were doing them. Touching on this subject, he got me to

realize that I really cared for Don, and that there probably

was more than just sex between us, at least from my

standpoint.

"I also admitted to Dr. Michaels that although I was playing

it 'straight', I was looking at the other guys in a different

light. Being on the swim team gave me the opportunity to see

lots of skin, and in the showers even more. It wasn't just

comparison any more, but wonder about how their dicks would

look hard, and how it would feel to have them in my mouth or

in my asshole. This was becoming a problem because looking

at them and fantasizing was getting me aroused, not something

I wanted to happen under those circumstances.

"I even told him that the idea of never having another dick

inside me was one I didn't want to contemplate. That's when

he told me about prostates. Wow! There was a reason why it

felt so good!

"At another session, I told him how I'd been comparing male

and female anatomy in my mind, and the reaction I'd had. Big

tits just didn't do it for me. Thinking about a hard chest

made my dick twitch. Although I'd never seen one in person,

the thought of a squishy, smelly pussy was repulsive, but a

dick, any size, any shape, was an entirely different matter.

Instant woody!

"Things were going along pretty smoothly. I was getting

along at school, my grades and popularity were back at their

earlier levels, and I was taking my time dealing with my

sexuality. Then came the confrontation - with myself.

"The swim team had a meet in the San Francisco Bay area.

That meant an overnight trip, and the whole team would stay

in a hotel. The coach drew names for roommates, and I got one

of the hottest guys on the team. Oh shit! Johnny was also

one of those guys who paraded around the locker room naked

with his big dick swinging, one I'd fantasized about more

than once. Man, how I'd love to wrap my lips around that

juicy piece of meat!

"Dr. Michaels wasn't any help at all. When I asked for

advice, he just laughed and told me I was on my own. 'Just

don't take any chances,' he warned me, and fished a handful

of condoms out of his desk drawer. I knew about AIDS, and

promised to use them - if the opportunity arose.

"It was even more difficult than I could have imagined.

After the seemingly endless bus ride, we stopped for a Big

Mac then went to the hotel with strict orders from the coach

to go to bed early. Johnny and I flipped for the first

shower. He won. While he undressed, I looked the other way

so that I wouldn't be tempted to do anything rash.

"While he showered, I got undressed down to my jockeys and

waited, thinking about anything I could other than him. I

didn't stand a chance. When he came out of the bathroom, his

towel was over his shoulder and his dick was sticking

straight up, hard as a rock.

"I tried not to run, to be as casual as possible, but I got

into the bathroom as fast as I could, my dick pumping up as I

went. It was no use. I jacked off, and still my dick

wouldn't go down. The image of him would not go away

regardless of how hard I tried.

"I did the best I could, wrapping the towel around me to hide

it, and after psyching myself up, stepped out of the bathroom

intending to jump right into bed.

"Johnny was sitting facing the bathroom door when I came out,

naked and still hard. I saw him look at my towel then rise

and walk toward me. The next thing I knew, his arms were

around me and his lips were on mine."

At this point, Eric paused for another sip from his drink.

It was pretty clear that remembering this event was having an

effect on him, his pants were straining at the seams.

Although I wanted to, this was not the time to jump his bones.

"I'm gonna finish this," he told me, "then we can take care

of current problems," grinning and glancing down at his

rather full crotch.

"That kiss," he continued, "was the turningpoint in my search

for answers about myself. Yes, I'd kissed a girl before,

several in fact, but none of them were anything like this!

It wasn't emotion. Hell, I hardly knew the guy, but there

was something about those lips on mine that erased any doubt

I might ever have had. I was a full-blown faggot.

"Before morning, I proved to myself in quite a few other ways

that there was no mistaking the fact that I liked the male

body. It wasn't love or anything like that, just the feel of

a man, his hardness and not just his dick, and the feelings I

got from having a man in my arms that made me feel like I was

where I wanted to be and where I belonged.

"Johnny and I grinned at each other all the way home. I

think he was grinning because he'd experienced the best sex

he'd ever had. I was grinning because everything was clearer

now. I knew what I wanted.

"Just being sure of who and what I was wasn't something I

wanted to broadcast. Just KNOWING was sufficient, no more

confusion.

"Then, I started thinking how this was going to affect my

life. Why change anything? I was living a happy life

masquerading as a heterosexual. Sure, I was dating girls as

a coverup, but not any one in particular, and not giving any

of them the idea that I was serious.

"There was no reason to come leaping out of the closet, at

least for the time being. I figured that I could look,

listen, read more and become more comfortable with myself

before telling the world.

"Only one problem. I was a healthy 17 year old with needs.

I was also pretty spoiled. For a long time, Don had taken

care of those needs, and I wasn't eager to go back to jacking

off. Maybe that was part of my problem with Don. Possibly I

was mad at him for leaving me without an outlet.

"Johnny was a possibility. He'd already said he wanted a

rematch. But how would that work? I certainly didn't want

to get emotionally involved again, and how could we arrange

to get together?

"The one thing I'd kind of skipped over was my parents'

reaction to all this. They had always been great to me,

loving, supportive, and non-judgmental. I guess I had just

assumed that they'd go along with anything I did.

"This, however was a MAJOR thing. How would they react?

"The next session with Dr. Michaels was far more intense than

I'd expected it to be. I told him about my experience with

Johnny, and how it had made me fully realize that I was gay.

He wasn't surprised, but wanted me to be absolutely sure that

that was what I wanted. After explaining the feelings I'd

had when Johnny kissed me, I think I convinced him.

"Now that my sexuality was settled, he wanted to know what I

intended to do with my life. 'Being gay isn't easy,' he told

me, and wanted to know if I intended to 'come out',

particularly to my parents. 'Give me a chance to get used to

this,' I demanded. He kept at me, though, wanting to know if

I could keep it hidden forever. At that point I got mad. He

was pushing me, and I didn't like it, and left in a huff.

"Of course, he was right, but I wanted to do things at my own

pace.

"A few Saturdays later, Mom and I were alone at home, just

talking about nothing in particular. Without any hesitation,

I just blurted out 'Mom, I want you to know that I'm gay.'

She just smiled at me and said 'I know'. That threw me. I

wanted to know if Dr. Michaels had told her anything, and she

told me no, she had known long before I ever went to see him.

"I wanted to know why she hadn't said something. Her answer

to that was that it was something I had to come to terms with

on my own. She knew it wouldn't be easy for me, but I had to

do it myself without any interference.

"Of course, I wanted to know how she felt about this. Her

typical 'Mom' answer to this was 'Whatever makes you happy

makes me happy. I guess Ryan's going to have to provide the

grandkids.'

"Then, the big question. 'How about Dad?' He knew too, and

had had time to get over his initial shock and anger, but she

wanted me to tell him myself.

"Now, let me tell you, that was HARD! It took quite a little

time before I could build up the courage to do it, but he was

great about the whole thing.

"Well, there you have it, I think the moment of truth

occurred in a hotel room in Oakland! That's when I accepted

myself."

"Wow, what a story!" I told him, dragging him over so I could

put my arm around him. "There's only one thing that bothers

me."

"What's that?"

"I don't know if I can compete with those young studs with

the big dicks that you were telling me about."

He raised up, turned and looked me straight in the eye.

"There's no competition," he said softly. "Just remember one

thing. I CHOSE YOU!"


To be continued.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I appreciate hearing your comments on the

story, my writing, and anything you would like to offer -

good or not so good. Send me a message at

orrinrush@yahoo.com and also let me know if you would like to

be included on my "alert" mailing list for new postings.

Next: Chapter 38


Rate this story

Liked this story?

Nifty is entirely volunteer-run and relies on people like you to keep the site running. Please support the Nifty Archive and keep this content available to all!

Donate to The Nifty Archive
Nifty

© 1992, 2024 Nifty Archive. All rights reserved

The Archive

About NiftyLinks❤️Donate