DISCLAIMER: The following story is a fictional account of young teenage boys who are in love. There are references and graphic descriptions of gay sex involving minors, and anyone who is uncomfortable with this should obviously not be reading it. All characters are fictional and any resemblance to real people is purely coincidental. Although the story takes place in actual locations and establishments, the author takes full responsibility for all events described and these are not in any way meant to reflect the activities of real individuals or institutions. The author retains full copyright of this story.
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lennybruce55@gmail.com
The Partner
The first thing I look at when I enter is always the one, how he set it up.
His cock, I mean. He always has it down to the left, at rest. But more and more often it is not where I expect it is and this means only one thing, that he has just masturbated. And then I despair, because for that day I cannot carry out my plan.
It is a very simple plan, since this summer I discovered that I like boys, Matt, who is my best friend, classmate, from first grade, is the best candidate to become my sexual partner.
I want it, I want it and I cry over it since I discovered of being what I am. Well, I'm still not sure what I am.
Partner: I think we can define the person with whom we do or want to have sex and I decided, indeed I know, that Matteo would be the right person. What exactly "having sex" means is still not entirely clear to me, but, for the moment, I believe that if I jerk him and he did it to me at the same time, I could say I'm satisfied.
Oh well, for later I could have some other ideas, like becoming lovers and that, well, I know what that means.
But if that asshole masturbates after eating, before I arrive, who can I make love with? And who do I become the lover? Of my hand?
We have been doing homework together for eight years now. From the first of October of the first grade to today. And now, in our first year of high school, we have not lost the habit. At three o'clock, my home or his, in turn. I didn't care about who we were before. There was food and drink in one place and another. Even though my mother is at home almost every afternoon, she was never bothering, but Matteo's mother is never home in the afternoon, because she works in a bank and until six o'clock we are sure to be alone. This peculiarity made me prefer one house to another, so the times when I make the three floors of stairs that divide us are more and more frequent. Matteo didn't pay attention to the change, but he doesn't mind many other things, if I'm not the one making him notice them. And this does not seem to me one of those things that are important, especially if one aims to put his hands in the other's underwear.
Another change that he seems not to have noticed is what has been in us, in our bodies and, above all, in our cocks during the last two years. We have never talked about it among ourselves, touching on the subject only on rare occasions and keeping everything in it. To tell the truth, it was me who kept everything inside me, because, as I said, if I'm not the one who faces a problem, he doesn't think about it and goes ahead on his own. And this time he's really doing it, I don't talk about it and he jerks himself on his own. I don't have the courage to tell him anything and he makes me cry. I'm afraid, because I don't understand anything about me and even about us. And every day I found his cock on the other side.
So I decided that I would provoke him, to know what he thinks exactly. After eight years, I thought, I will have the right to ask him for proof of friendship, right? But in a month I only found a way to understand when he jerk off. At least, I think so. And I have made no further progress. Because every time I come to the point of asking him to jerk us off together, I lack courage.
On days when he has his cock on the right side, of course.
In the meantime I jerk off by myself, in the evening, when I get home, after homework and before we go out together to visit with friends. If I didn't do this, I think I'd jump on him. To him or to some other beautiful specimen of a friend I have. My companions are not all to be thrown away, on the contrary! There are some that are attractive and there is also someone older who helps me in my fantasies, that is, it helps me with my jerking fantasies.
But I want him. I want Matteo. At six o'clock, I lock myself in my room. My mother never goes there if I don't give her permission and anyway, not at that hour, because for fifteen years, that is since I was born, she looks I don't know what on television. Often to stay calm I get to turn the key, but it is only for my intimate security. That I remember, she never got up from her chair between six and seven in the evening.
I stand on the bed, belly in the air, with my hands in my underwear. If I close my eyes I can imagine having them in Matteo's underwear. Or that those hands are his. I identify with him so much that the effect is the same. I have a little more hair, yes, but I think our cocks are very similar. I believe it, but I don't know, because I've never seen it hard. Only dull, in the gym, a couple of times.
I begin to play with myself very slowly, calmly. Sometimes it takes me almost all the time, or transmission, it's one hour, if you prefer. And I come immediately before the credits. Those sounds from the TV are part of me and I recognize the moment of transmission by the type of noise emitted. It's like a clock.
Sometimes, when I come, I cry, because in the moment of orgasm, I discover that the hands I feel are mine and the cock I touch is not that of Matteo.
This is how my days are consumed, without finding the courage to ask him how he is consuming his own. For the rest, I'm not complaining. We separate only to sleep, in the day we are almost always together and I know that he has no other thoughts, except those he does with me. Well, he has some thoughts of his own. And he doesn't tell me.
And so it happens that I decide: even if he has the cock on the other side, I'll tell him!
I ring the bell and he opens the door. Who else then, if we are always alone at home? I enter and don't look at him. Going up the stairs I decided not to look at him, at all. If he has already jerked off, so much the worse.
He lets me slip away and follows me. I don't say a word, while generally I attack him, telling all the ideas that came to me during lunch. But not today, I don't speak and I'm going straight to his room. I throw the books on the bed and sit sullenly, arms folded, looking out of the window.
I hear him approaching.
"Hey ... Ciccio!" He calls me that, because as a child I was chubby, but then growing up, development and all the other things, I came out charming, tall and slim, athletic and handsome. So to speak!
And he is the only one who has permission to call me `Ciccio'.
I don't turn around. I feel that it touches my neck. I shudder.
"Ciccio! ... What's wrong with you?"
I say no with my head, without losing sight of the antennas on the opposite roof. Never noticed that there were many.
"Did I do anything to you?"
I hear him stutter, lightly, and that brings me almost to tears. What is my love? What am I doing? I do not know.
Matteo only stutters when he's upset and it hurts to hear him do it.
"No ... it's that ... oh nothing. We study?"
"But today we have nothing to do," he says, regretting. At least we had to study, he would have something concrete to think about and he shouldn't try to understand what escapes him. That is to understand me. Instead there is practically nothing to study and there I am holding a grudge to him.
I am now at a crossroads: tell him the truth or invent that my mother scolded me, explaining to him why I'm upset. But I want him to know, I'm tired of pretending with him.
The sight of roofs and antennas irresistibly attracts me again.
It was during the summer, when, like every year, he goes to his damn grandparents in France and I'm alone for two months! It was then and everything happened, because he wasn't here with me. If there had been, I wouldn't have gone out with my asshole brother and I wouldn't have met Alex. While I am staring at all those antennas, I see the movie of that evening slip off in front of me, that one evening, which is all my summer. I don't know whose party, held in a fragrant garden, in the heat of an August night. I had been taken there by my brother out of pity and at my mother's insistence that he wanted to see me go out, since there being no Matteo, I found every excuse to stay at home.
And there I found Alex, almost eighteen, who cares about me. Fills my glass with what? Spumante. Fresco, iced. I'm thirsty. Then he asks me if I want to go for a walk. And I "With whom? With me? Possible? "
" Yes! I got bored and I don't like people here. "
"I don't know anyone" I say.
"Are you not of this group?"
And in five minutes I tell him all my life, which is the same of Matteo's, and how much I miss him every boring summer, because he goes to France. I tell him things I wouldn't have told anyone, because they weren't in my mind. Which I didn't know I knew. It must have been what I drank, or better, that he made me drink.
And Alex puts his hand on my shoulder, while I'm almost drunk and I get closer and closer to him. I almost cry. We end up hugging each other along a country road that I don't know where it leads, because I don't know where I am. And he doesn't even know it, because he asks me the way. At that point we laugh like two fools. That's when he kisses me. With the tongue in my mouth and I pass from laughter to wonder, to total excitement. I find I have the hardest cock ever, I feel his hand touch me, his dick against my leg. It is lake a storm of emotions, of feelings. And I'm the center of it. Until an hour before I was convinced that I should like girls, not that I really liked them, but at least I was sure that that was the only right thing.
Alex touches me all, he certainly understands that I'm at his mercy. And he lowers my pants, my briefs. The night air caresses my cock that, free from clothes, has jumped out and lives its own life. I try to touch his body too, I go along his shoulder, put his hands in his jeans, I feel that he widens them. I go deeper and touch his ass. He also does it with me. Our shirts have flown somewhere, we have pants and underpants at the ankles. The cocks tightened between the bellies and we caress our bottoms. I feel that his hand is following a path and looking for something. The moment he finds it and I understand what it is, I came wetting him. He has time to stick a finger in my ass and then he come, screaming, spraying mine and his belly. And then I find myself thinking one thing, that I didn't know an orgasm produced all those noises. Maybe, because until that day I had always masturbated in the silence of my room and there was little to shout about. Alex takes his finger off and looks at me, scared. I come back to myself and I understand why he is afraid. I'm crying. Tears wet my cheeks. I hadn't even noticed.
'What's the problem? Didn't you want to? Oh, I'm sorry" he says it so many times and I'm silent, crying.
Then I shake and embrace him.
"I wanted to do it with Matteo" I try to explain, between hiccups.
And there I am, too, with Matteo that is looking at me without understanding.
He gives me a push that almost throws me off the chair.
"Oh...! Shit, Ciccio ... you've been there for ten minutes counting antennas. Fuck you! Do you want to tell me what's caught you?"
I don't answer him, I get right back and I don't even look at him.
"Listen, fuck another time and get out!"
"You never told me so!" I told him then, surprised.
"I'm sorry ... but you stand there and say nothing. Do you know how many times I called you? Wh... what's up?"
That sweet voice with which the sentence ends, stammering. He is shaken. He's getting worried. Finally I look at him, the front of his pants. Today he didn't jerkoff. I take it as a wish. It must be today. It will be today.
But I remain silent.
"Ciccio..."
This time he shouted. He said it so loud that they heard it from across the street.
I do not move.
He shakes me, punches me on the arm. It's not strong, but it still hurts. He's angry now. He goes to sit on the bed.
"If it's a joke," he says grimly, "I swear I'll kill you!"
I put my hands in front of my face. Do I pretend to laugh?
"You're an asshole!" He shouts louder.
When I take them off and look at them, he understands that it's not a joke.
"Do you promise me you won't get angry?"
He immediately turned his back to it, hopeful that the play would end. Not afraid of drama, yet.
"Will we reamin friends, whatever I say you? "I ask him.
"Don't say crap. What does that have to do with anything? What should you tell me? "
"Will we remain friends?" I insist.
I know that the test I am about to submit to it could be excessive even for our friendship. I wonder if it's worth it. I can still make something up and back down. But those tears in Alex's arms and all the times I cried after, it hurt me too much.
I have so much joy, affection, love to give and I want to offer it to Matteo. He'll tell me he can't accept it and he doesn't know what to do with it, so maybe he'll ask me to leave, he'll send me away.
I prepare for sacrifice.
"Tell me we'll be friends whatever I'm about to ask you ... Please."
"Yes ... okay. We will remain friends. I promise you! "He says in a whisper, because now I have frightened him.
"Do you jerkoff?"
"Yes" he squeezes his eyes, it's the gesture he makes when he doesn't understand something "but what does it mean? Was that what you wanted to tell me? "
"Not only. Who do you think when you do them? "
He looks at me, he's lost, lowers his head.
"Why do you want to know?" His voice is close to tears. I know him well. We are still young, we cry too often. And I understand when this is going to happen to me as to him.
I see him move and I know that I will not bear her tears, so, since it was I who caused all this, I decide to help him.
"Do you want me to tell you who I think when I jerkoff?"
"Yes!" he whispers.
"Of you!"
I no longer have the courage to look at him. I would like to disappear, fall to lightning, or simply asleep. Wake from the other side of the world, in a thousand years.
"O ... f ... me you ... th ... I think of you!"
I think I heard him say it. Maybe he said it. I watch. He understands that I haven't heard. He repeats it to me.
"When I jerk off, I always think of you!"
We both lift our heads and together we say: "Why didn't you tell me before?"
This almost makes us laugh.
Even the answer to that question, we could say in unison: we were ashamed, one of the other.
"What do you mean?" He asks me, "I don't understand anything, anymore!"
"Nor do I understand each other much, but now it's sure we can stay friends."
His gaze is lost and inspires me with a tenderness so strong that I feel my chest burn. It's like physical pain. I've never experienced this feeling. I'm disoriented.
I get up and go to kneel in front of him. I put my hands on his knees.
"I want to tell you another thing ... I love you!"
Not responding.
"Matteo, do you understand what I'm telling you? I love you!"
"Yes you are right."
"I'm right ... what, Matteo?"
I rest my head on his lap, he caresses my hair.
"I'm scared, Ciccio," he says, almost crying.
I'm not scared anymore and I understand that I have to help him.
"No one will know. Nobody will notice anything, Matteo, don't you understand? It is as if the two of us were already engaged. Everyone knows that we do the same things and we think the same way. That I speak and you do things! I make trouble and you get pissed off, but this is not a mess of mine ... "
"You're right, that's it. But why didn't you tell me before? "
"I was afraid you ... didn't want me. You liked girls ... I was so scared! "
"You could have told me..."
"And why did you do all those jerkoffs after eating, without thinking that I was aware of it and suffered? Asshole!"
He bursts out laughing and I follow him. Then I give him a push that makes him end up lying on the bed. I jump on him and, instead of starting our usual struggle in which I, who are less strong, end up succumbing, I put my hand on his cock.
"Today you didn't jerk off!"
"How do you know?" He asks without escaping.
His cock is very hard, I feel it under his suit, it came out of his boxers, but from the right side.
"When you jerk off leave it to the right. And every time I meet you I look at you and I know if you made it or not! "
Looks at me.
"What an asshole friend I have," he says, smiling at me "And what an asshole I am!"
I lay on him. Our mouths are very close. He holds me, he is squeezing me.
We kiss. I remember what Alex did and stick my tongue in his mouth. First he lets me go, then he returns. And we fight, giggling, we drool all over our faces. We roll in each other's arms and risk falling off the bed immediately. I understand that sex with Matteo will not always be serious. But I feel my heart burst with happiness.
Suddenly it stops. Back to serious.
"Do you really love me?"
"Yes ..." I whisper, terrified by his expression "Are you already thinking about it?"
"No, I ... am crazy about you!"
And suddenly he slams his shoulders against the bed, blocking my arms.
"And you jerk off at six p.m. while your mother looks that awful program on television. That's why you're always in a hurry to leave. And then when we meet again in the evening, you're in a bad mood and you look at me wrong. Asshole! "
I make him sweet eyes. I do not know what to say. I'm about to cry. He too is moved. It still crushes me with its weight, but it frees my hands and I can hug him again. We are really embracing now, he has his head between my neck and the pillow.
"We will no longer jerk off alone" he whispers in my ear "I promise you!"
Then he takes my hand and brings it to the cock.
"From now on you will always decide the position! This is an oath! Where is he now? "
"In the right place!" The assured "You show me?"
"Yes ... it's yours. I am yours! You want me?"
"Yes, Matteo. And you want me? "
He does yes with his head and that's all.
We calmly undress ourselves, looking at each other carefully. When we come to see what we don't know about each other, we unintentionally reduce the speed with which we discover ourselves. Like in a slow striptease, first he, then I, we take off our clothes. And when we are completely naked we remain enchanted, caught looking at each other.
I was right, his cock is perfectly the same as mine. Growing together gave us the same cock. We also ate the same things. It must have been that. I have more hair than him. And I'm more robust, but it shows that he is stronger, more agile than me, and I'm just heavier. We are not sure how long we contemplate each other, from the tips of our feet to the top of our hair, as if our faces were unknown to us. Lying on the side, one in front of the other, with hard, strained, straight cocks, parallel to the bellies.
Then Matteo touches my arm. It is an invitation to come closer and we gather.
We are kissing, then I feel his breath getting shorter and my following him. And I don't know any more with which cock I'm enjoying whether with mine or with his, because we come together, moving and calming down. Still with the mouths together, in our pants.
We remain attached for fear of dirtying the bed, but also because we do not want to break away. We look into each other's eyes.
We made love for the first time and at that moment I understand that we will do it for life.
Maybe Matteo hasn't understood it yet, but I'll explain it to him and he will certainly agree with me.
The End
The name 'Lenny Bruce' (lennybruce55@gmail.com)is listed in the "Prolific Authors Directory"
http://www.nifty.org/nifty/authorslist.html with the list of other novels and short stories I wrote and published in Nifty.