Author's Comments: I was 21 years old and a new, nearly ready to graduate college and a freshly-minted adult when the "action" in this story begins. My brother Tad back at home was nearly seven years younger than me, and I suddenly was finding his same-age friends strangely appealing to me. This was the first time that my experimentation had crossed the boundary of age, and here began a rollercoaster ride that lasted the next dozen years.
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I had just started college, and found living in my new environment a rude shock. Attending a big college in a busy city, I felt a kid among adults as I watched all the other students interact. They appeared to me to be fully grown men and women as they talked with each other, flirted and kissed. There were a few other freshmen like me around, looking wide-eyed and out of place, but for the most part I felt like an isolated outsider.
Perhaps most disconcerting to me were seeing more than a few guys who appeared somewhat feminine, some wearing earrings; some guys walking together and being slightly affectionate (in a guy sort of way of course--no hugging and public tongue-kissing or anything, but still the sort of thing that a tuned-in confused guy like me would notice.) For example, I observed that they did stuff like slightly lingering touching that wasn't necessary, walking a little closer to one another than guys usually did, and sharing what I perceived as affectionate looks while talking. I was afraid. I suspected I was one of them but I didn't want to be. Was this to become my new peer group?
I was in a new environment, away from home where nobody knew me, and I knew no one, a place where nobody was going to tell my parents about my every move. The opportunity was all around me to really come out, and to find out about myself, maybe discovering that I really wasn't alone or such a freak just because I was attracted to other guys. But I unfortunately still wasn't ready, I suppose.
Some years back I had made a ridiculous personal "resolution" to turn straight starting immediately at my sixteenth birthday. I had somehow decided that sixteen was the limit of reasonable tolerance, and before that age I could be considered just a boy and whatever I did would be just carefree experimenting and messing around. But by sixteen I figured I was getting close to being a man. I knew that if I didn't want to end up a freakish failure I had better get busy by learning how to like girls. I resolved: starting at sixteen there would be no more staring longingly at boys, no more thinking about them while I masturbated, and certainly no more messing around with them in person. This entire concept was doomed to failure just like the well-intentioned smoker's New Years resolution to quit cigarettes on January 1. I was not at all successful, and continued in my ways, but from then on felt much more guilty about it.
Returning home for a short college break early in the year, I breathed a sigh of relief to be back in familiar and comforting surroundings. Immature as I was, while most fellow students reveled in being away from home, I instead mostly pined for the comforts of home that I had grown so accustomed to. My younger brother Tad had taken over the bedroom, and didn't seem very happy to see me back. All his "stuff" was in the places my stuff had been in, and I was relegated to sleeping in the extra bed.
His usual goofy high school freshman friends were still around, and they barely registered to me as part of the background scenery. They were into things that didn't interest me, like playing video games and watching music videos and stupid science fiction movies on TV. I was far more interested in rough sports and being outside and working on my old car. We all mutually ignored one another, almost as if we had a signed agreement to do so.
That is, with the sole exception of Teddy.
Teddy had been hanging around as long as I could remember, a slightly pudgy, but chipper and cheerful short brown-eyed little redhead who was underfoot all the time. Over the years he was at our table for dinner a lot, swam in the pool in the yard, seemingly was always sprawled on the floor watching TV and was on the bowling team with my brother at an age they were both barely old enough to lift a ball. He would go with us to the beach and happily build sand castles with my brother Tad till he'd end up with ferocious sunburn on his pale freckled shoulders. I had hardly even noticed Teddy all those years; the most I could say about him was that he didn't seem as annoying as the rest of them. He respectfully stayed out of my way and kept away from my things.
It was on this trip home that I first noticed the change. Sure, he had grown bigger and taller, and his short coppery-red hair was thicker and curlier than I had remembered. His voice had gotten deeper and his shoulders were broader. But what changed most was the way he acted towards me. He seemed almost reverent in my presence; never taking his eyes away it seemed, gazing towards me with a constant grin on his face. I'd be sitting doing something and I'd look up and there would be Teddy, across the room just looking back at me, staring and smiling. I was amused and intrigued, but certainly not attracted. I wondered what he was up to, figuring that I might be the butt of some prank he was planning with the others. But as time went by, I could see that it had nothing to do with the other boys. Teddy seemed newly infatuated with me, and when I offered the slightest encouragement he scrambled over to sit nearer to me.
We didn't have a lot in common to discuss, but I sensed something very familiar in the way he was acting. His behavior seemed not unlike mine as a child when as a young Boy Scout I had become attached to an 18-year-old Eagle Scout on a camping trip, suddenly feeling emotions I had never felt before that weekend. I hoped this older boy accepted me and would love me and I even imagined I might spend my whole life with him. These childish romantic stirrings were the first I ever remember having, and they left me happy yet confused inside.
Teddy sat near me in the den and softly asked me questions about college. I don't remember what they were, but I clearly remember his tone of voice. He spoke as though he didn't want others to hear what he was saying to me. He talked quietly and sweetly, beaming all the while like he was as happy as he could be. He glanced around from time to time to see if other people were nearby, and halted his conversation if one of the other boys came into the room. I found this interesting, since he wasn't saying anything that he should have been ashamed of his friends hearing. It was as if he felt his mere presence so close to me would have been some sort of giveaway to his friends that something was up. It was clear that he wanted whatever he said to me to be private and between us alone.
He told me that he was sleeping over at our house that night as I remember he often did on Friday or Saturday nights. I recall several years back when I had walked into the bedroom when they were undressing and he made a big show of covering up his pale body, even though he was just in his underwear, and I couldn't have cared less about him. But this night as the hour grew late, and we sat cross-legged on the living room floor, I was shocked as Teddy whispered hints to me that he and my brother might soon be messing around together when in bed. I was sure that if my brother knew Teddy had shared this information he would have been furious, but Teddy had left the door open for me to ask more.
With no one else around to hear, I asked him what they did together.
"You know", he blushed, looking away. He pointed at his crotch.
Now guess now I did know, but I was interested in hearing him say more. "Tell me, Teddy", I coaxed.
Teddy blushed three shades of red, and fumbling for words and gesturing suggestively with his hands he implied that they liked to make each other feel good and that my brother had taught him all he knew.
"About jerking off?" I said.
Teddy's eyes were cast to the floor, but his smile never wavered.
"I guess", he said.
I was suddenly aroused. "That is so cool", I said. "You are lucky."
He looked up at me rather surprised. "You think?" he said. Because boys are usually so ashamed of masturbating, that the act of voluntary disclosure to someone else like me was kind of uncommon. I recall making this same admission to only a few other carefully selected guys when I had been Teddy's age. My motivation always was twofold: partly that I wanted them to admit that they masturbated too, and that they thought it was an all right thing to do. But primarily, telling someone that I jacked off with other boys meant one important thing--that I wanted them to do it with me too.
"I wish you could be there with us too", He added softly.
Even though I suspected that's where he was going, I was still somewhat shocked hearing him say the words. I blushed too, averted my own eyes and smiled back finding myself unexpectedly and oddly completely at a loss for words. My heart was pounding at this unanticipated and sweetly innocent come-on. I had never imagined masturbating with Teddy. Further, I couldn't imagine how I would do it with him with my brother nearby.
"Is yours big?" asked Teddy softly, fiddling with his shoelaces and looking directly down at the floor where we sat, his ears bright red.
I placed my hand over his. I had never suspected this in all our years together. My mind raced at the circumstances of what might be happening inside of his head. Was he gay? And did he think I was gay? If so, how did he know and what made him suspect? Or, did he not care and was simply attracted to me, whatever I was? Was he inexperienced and foolish enough that he just didn't realize the gravity of the situation, making a pass at another guy, an older one at that, and taking the risk of rejection and exposure of his shame? Or as a kid was he still at that point where "fooling around" was OK and didn't have the guilt or significance that I had placed on keeping the secrecy of my sexual orientation safe? Or- MAYBE– just maybe he knew he was gay and completely accepting of it? That last option I dismissed immediately. This was not a fathomable circumstance in my world.
"Yes, I'm pretty big." I said, squeezing his hand and using my other hand to stroke his bare leg. "Mmmmmmm..." he whispered, raising his chin and still smiling with delight, still keeping his eyes closed.
My brother Tad came into the room at that moment and I snapped to attention. Teddy, on the other hand, didn't move. I pulled my hand away from his, and sat up straight, though I knew my brother had seen. Boys don't hold hands.
Teddy turned to Tad and excitedly suggested that we pull two beds together so we could make it one, and we could all sleep in the same bed. Tad seemed angrily disgusted by this odd idea, and resisted doing it. Scrambling up to the bedroom, Teddy actually started moving the beds before my brother objected and fiercely ordered him to stop.
I was conflicted: excited but at the same time very confused. The prospect of cuddling with Teddy was very erotic to me, but doing it in full view of my brother was not. It also occurred to me that I didn't know anything about the relationship between Teddy and Tad; whether they were casual jerk-off buddies or if it was something more romantically significant. I knew certainly and logically that my brother would resent my involvement with his boyfriend, if that were the situation at hand. And while I certainly knew that Tad was a willing jerk-off partner for me, I truly didn't know if he participated with me to simply blow off steam, because it just felt good, or because he might be gay and this was the way he was wired to perform. As we have established, I was not at all in touch with my true sexuality. I thought I was straight and that this was just something I did because it felt good and was convenient, a phase I would soon grow out of when the right girl came along. I still refused with all my being to consider the notion that I might be gay.
The tension was suddenly thick. "I am going to sleep in the room across the hall", I said, and I excused myself to bed. I was disappointed, but dangerously nearing my own point of emotional overload. Recall I had made a strict commitment to myself and was not supposed to be looking for sexual experiences with other guys because I was on a kamikaze mission to become straight. While excited and enticed, I felt highly conflicted about what had just happened. Mostly, I wondered what vibes I had given off that had betrayed me and attracted Teddy. In some way, I must have signaled to Teddy that I was interested and would be receptive to his affection, but how? The prospects frightened me a little. After all- if Teddy knew I could be so easily tempted, who else must have figured this out about me? Further, while I fooled around with my brother, I didn't want my brother to know that I was also interested in other guys, lest he think I was gay, and putting the moves on his buddy in front of him would leave me with some serious explaining to do, for sure. What twisted, silly logic.
I settled into my bed, and heard talking through the closed door. Teddy and Tad were having a discussion, and while I couldn't hear the words I knew that they weren't talking sweetly to each other. Voices got louder, and I heard their door open then close. Then, just a few moments later I heard the door to my room open and felt someone sitting down on the mattress beside me.
"Teddy?" I asked. Teddy lay next to me. He was quiet but breathed heavily. "Hi Brad", he said.
"What's going on? Where's Tad?", I asked
"He went downstairs to eat something", answered Teddy.
Ridiculous. I surmised that Tad's leaving had nothing to do with the fact that he was hungry. I imagined it was probably related to Teddy's insistence that I join them in bed, and from the sound of the discussion a few moments ago, I was willing to bet that Teddy had not dropped that subject when I left the room.
"Is he coming back very soon?" I asked, wanting to know how long Teddy's visit to my room was planned for.
"Probably not. But don't worry about him", Teddy replied.
My conflicted mind didn't want any more information. It just wanted Teddy. I tossed the bed sheet over him and he immediately snuggled closer to me. He was wearing only white briefs, the same as me.
I turned to face him and in a single movement, we met halfway. Wrapping our arms around each other, we kissed each other deeply and on the mouth. I hadn't premeditated this, but doing it felt as natural as could be. I had honestly never kissed another boy before, and in fact never had even seriously imagined doing it. Sure, I had kissed plenty of girls. That was normal. But guys didn't kiss each other in my world. That was for fagots and perverts and I wasn't one of them.
But we kissed again, our tongues intertwining,
and Teddy made soft happy moaning sounds in his throat. Simultaneously I
reached for his crotch and eagerly felt his throbbing cock through his briefs.
He sighed happily and immediately pushed his briefs down so I could feel him
naked. This was unexpected and totally amazing.
"You can feel me too", I offered, sensing he was waiting for some kind of permission from me. He must have been waiting, and as he eagerly felt me he uttered a soft "wowwww!" as he reached down and gripped my penis that was standing as stiff and erect as it could get.
I should have been the one to say "wow!" because compared to my six and a half inch or so cock, his was bigger in every way, thicker, longer, and wider. I never imagined that a younger boy could be so well endowed, but he was definitely bigger than me.
"Oh my God Teddy!" I said, "Your cock is huge!"
Happily he said that mine was so cool and that he was so happy with what we were doing together. Then he did something that blew my mind.
"Can I turn the light on?" he asked
"What for?", I asked. I wondered what he was looking for that he needed the light for.
"I want to see you and see what we are doing... and everything," he answered.
I was amazed at his openness and lack of inhibition. "Yeah, sure, I guess", I said.
Teddy reached over and turned on the nightstand lamp, suddenly bathing our naked bodies in pale yellow light. He scrambled up onto his elbow to examine my nakedness more closely as I continued to fondle him longingly.
I don't know how much time passed. We kissed each other again and again, holding each other tightly and feeling each other's bodies from head to toe. We tasted each other all over, using our mouths and tongues to explore each other in ways our fingers wouldn't satisfy. The experience was surreal, because every time either of us got close to orgasm, we mutually backed off, prolonging the pleasure. Though younger than me, Teddy was less inhibited and seemingly knew how to make love better than I did, and I suspected this was not his first time with another guy. I wondered how much he had practiced with my brother before this!
With his red hair and fair skin, his big stiff cock was pink and tender, with a hugely bulging pinkish-red mushroom head atop it. My skin was olive and tanned, and my cock's color and shape provided a contrast to his, standing at attention next to each other. I wrapped my hand around both of ours as I held him close and rubbed back and forth. He didn't seem to make much pre-cum, but I did. I kissed his hair, his ear and then his exposed neck and upturned throat as I rubbed his tender cock sandwiched together in my hand with mine.
We went on so long that he asked to stop because his skin was getting chafed and he was afraid it would hurt. But I would have none of this, promising him I'd be gentle if he would just stop holding back and cum with me. I spit on my palm to make it wet and slippery on his smoothly veined cock, rubbing it gently with the lubrication of the slick spit now with the intention of making him come; in turn, he teased me and began to rub me more rhythmically but gently to bring me to orgasm.
We came nearly simultaneously, me squirting violently as I always did, the white goo flying everywhere, some up as far as our necks. I watched closely as Teddy came peacefully, his cock head swelling then just erupting in creaminess that flowed from the head like an overflowing cup of milk, down around his cock and down his shaft into his patch and onto his balls. Teddy was wide eyed to see me come so much and shoot so far. He apparently had never seen anyone erupt as I did. He was reverent and amazed--and also still amazingly happy.
Happy. After sex. Happy after sex with another guy. This was all so foreign to me. All of my experiences with other guys had ended quickly by me being washed over with shame. As soon as the act was done, I felt the need to escape, the desire to shower, a feeling of self-loathing that wouldn't fade till sleep took me. But that feeling wasn't there this time. After we cleaned up, Teddy smiled, opened his eyes wide and put his arm over me. "That was so COOL, Brad", he said.
I looked him over, lying nakedly beside me. We were both adolescent, but I was at the end of mine while he was near the beginning of his. Six feet tall, my body displayed defined muscles on chest and limbs. My legs were covered with a smooth dusting of dark hair, and my pubic hair rose from my crotch in a thin line, traveling up my flat stomach, and to my chest where it spread out gracefully to either side. I was no big hairy guy, but I had graduated from childhood, well, physically at least, it seemed. By contrast, Teddy was still puppy-like, almost a head shorter than I was, with oversized hands and feet and suddenly broad shoulders that hadn't been there a few months before. His skin was pink and fair. He wasn't chubby anymore, but one could still see that his muscles still hadn't developed yet like mine had. The hair on his legs was fine, sparse and reddish, and his pubic area had a fascinating little bush of red hair (the likes of which I had never seen before- and it was very intriguing to me) but it stopped abruptly an inch or two above his cock, leaving his stomach and chest bare and smooth. I could see wisps of pale reddish hair in his armpits, and his face looked like he had shaved it roughly, unnecessarily and in an inexperienced manner, because at most he had little blond tufts of fuzz at the corners of his mouth and certainly had no need to shave his entire face. Maybe he had shaved so thoroughly because wanted to imagine he was older than he really was.
I held him next to me examined him closely, enjoying how clean and nice he smelled, amazed at how pleasant and relaxed he looked. He crossed his feet and was at peace, clearly with no desire to get away or cover up or dress himself. Why couldn't I be that way, I wondered?
"Teddy?", I asked "Won't Tad be looking for you?"
Teddy opened one eye, yawned and stretched a little. "I guess", he said. "I'll go find him."
Sitting up and putting his undershorts back on, Teddy got up and left the room, shutting the door partly behind him. I don't remember hearing him return upstairs before I fell off to sleep. I could only assume that Tad knew exactly what was going on and was highly pissed at Teddy's unguarded desire and blatantly obvious advances towards me. I had never before thought of my brother as a sexual being, and I still didn't want to, but as I lay there I concluded that he and Teddy must have been in a sexual relationship for some time, something I later confirmed to be true. Sleep came easily for me that night.
I awoke the next morning hardly believing what had happened the night before. My head had barely cleared at breakfast when Teddy reached over grinning and gripped my hand under the table, giving it a squeeze. He acted like nothing whatsoever was wrong, clearly because in his mind there obviously WAS nothing wrong. I looked on him with wonder.
What did this kid know about life that I
didn't? Why was he able to smile and look me in the eye the morning after? Did
he accept his needs, likely the same ones that I had inside of me that I hated
so much; the needs that made us both gravitate to other males for love and affection?
Didn't he realize and worry that expressing these needs was so dangerous
because the risk of rejection also meant the risk of exposure and shame? But even more concerning to me, in reaching out
so daringly to me, how did he somehow KNOW I'd be willing? What
signs did I give? What did he think of me? Why was he so willing to take this
risk with me?
Tad's coldness towards me the rest of that day was obvious. When I asked him what was the matter, he bitingly made a remark that Teddy was HIS friend, not mine, and that Teddy was there to see Tad, not to see me. I played dumb (which was incredulous) and then told him that Teddy had clearly wanted to "see" me too, carefully avoiding all words that would imply that anything sexual had taken place with us, nor that I suspected anything sexual between Teddy and him. Tad glared back at me but didn't say anything else. We both know what had gone on, but we refused to say any of the words. I was torn--infatuated that Teddy was smitten with me, but also worried that I had been so unprepared and totally unable to refuse his advances. "Sorry" I said to Tad, but I didn't really mean it, I guess, and I know he didn't believe me.
The rest of my year back at college went uneventfully. I kept myself very, very busy with schoolwork and many other activities so I wouldn't have to deal with the party scene where all the guys my age went to meet girls. I was honestly in no real hurry to meet girls, and I was sure that I didn't want to take the risk of meeting guys I might like instead, especially where drinking was going on and inhibitions would be low. I convinced myself that all the guys there would be older and certainly straight and I'd get pounded and then blackballed and ostracized if I said or did the wrong thing. I decided the best thing for me was to simply stay far away from the whole social scene.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
That summer when school ended I returned home, and the very first evening I was there Teddy appeared at our door. We went outside and casually shot baskets in the driveway in the fading light, Tad, Teddy and me. It had begun to get dark enough that judging distance was a problem, and one of our shots missed the backboard and went over the fence. As Tad ran to get the lost ball, Teddy came up behind me and brazenly put his arms around my waist. "I couldn't wait to see you again Brad", he said softly in my ear. I turned to face him and held him tight, my face buried in his red hair. I groped his pants and found his dick was already poking hard and erect. I wonder how long it had been that way. "Mmmmmmmm," he moaned. "How soon can we be together?" he asked, a hint of urgency in his voice. I decided at that moment that it had been no coincidence that he had appeared on my first night home.
Tad returned from the other side of the fence and saw the end of our embrace. He angrily slammed the ball on the driveway and disappeared into the house.
"Please, Now..." said Teddy sounding somewhat desperate in his urgency.
Blinded with my lust, like a robot I led him behind the bushes in the garden and then roughly stripped his shorts down around his ankles. His cock stood straight out, and I attacked it, burying it deep into my throat. Teddy moaned and rubbed my hair and I went to town as I kneeled in front of him. Then lying head to toe, we mutually satisfied each other with our hot mouths- lips and tongues, laying in the soft grass on the lawn, sucking each other's cocks until we both came, hidden from view by the bushes on one side and the garden wall on the other.
(As an aside I clearly remember that at the
end of this lovemaking session, my father had come storming angrily out of the
house calling loudly for me, over and over, causing Teddy and I to scramble
frantically back into our clothes and creep on our bellies behind the garden
wall so I could escape from our compromising situation and reply to him in
answer. Clearly, Tad had gone into the house and told him something... what I do not know, but whatever it was it had
made him angry enough to come out shouting and urgently looking for me. My dad
was a very quiet man and did not often get excited, let alone like this; and to
this day I wonder if Tad may have gone so far as to tell our dad that I was
hurting or even molesting Teddy, given the voraciousness with which he came
storming out of the house looking for me. "Here I am Dad!" I had
cried, running around the house. Seeing me coming, he turned away sputtered
something angrily at me about "stop your goddamn nonsense" and went
back in the house... he was never inclined to look for a confrontation and I am
certain that whatever Tad had told him, Dad just wanted the matter to be closed
and over, because there were no repercussions for me afterwards. I was,
however, suddenly on notice that Tad was not going to stand idly by this summer
and allow me to make love to his buddy unchecked.)
That last summer of my adolescence was like no other for me. Though we tried not to be obvious, Teddy and I were nearly inseparable, and we made love again and again, on the beach, in the woodshed, in the attic, in my bed, in the shower together, at night in my hot rod car. I loved kissing him, and the way he eagerly kissed me back. I loved the way he quickly and unhesitatingly tried any daring maneuver I suggested. He'd sit at the computer in the middle of our family room playing games and I'd pull up a chair beside him, slip my hand into his lap, and rub his crotch till his penis swelled and hardened to its greatest length, its huge head poking lewdly out of the leg of his shorts. We would be right out in the open while we did this. I would try to get him to cum right there, but as he'd get close he'd blush and beg me to stop afraid that my Mother and Dad or perhaps Tad would come in and see.
I barely registered any gnawing guilt that clearly should have been growing inside of me as I stole my brother Tad's boyfriend from him that summer. Teddy and I didn't make love blatantly in front of Tad, but Tad was no idiot. He certainly knew what we were up to as Teddy and I regularly disappeared together, reappearing a half an hour or so later, clothes disheveled and faces flushed with damp spots on our shorts. I knew Tad saw the loving way Teddy would constantly gaze at me, touching my hand and saying soft private things to me as he sat close, and I was sure he hated it. But I didn't care. I only cared about quenching my lust and I was too detached to notice how it affected anyone else.
Looking back, if I had been thinking even slightly clearly after all of this, at long last I should have been finally able to admit that my attraction to other guys was not just a passing phase, and about now I should have been prepared to draw obvious conclusions about my future. At the very least, I should have concluded that I needed more time to sort things out, and should have stopped my plan to hunt for girls. But instead, while I was enjoying my special time with Teddy, I also had decided that this, too, like all my other sexual experiences with guys must be simply categorized as just some more carefree experimenting. It was just another fling, I decided, one that would end as soon as school started up again. I refused to give in and admit to myself, even as I eagerly made love with this willing boy again and again, that this could be any more than a passing fancy. Finding the right girl would cure me of this depravity, I knew, and I resolved to finally get moving on the serious business of courting girls once the summer's vacation had ended.
Clearly with hindsight, about then I had seriously lost my grip on reality.
Back again at college, I steadfastly maintained my façade of straightness. I was perversely proud that I was able to act so straight in my co-ed dorm environment that I believed nobody would ever suspect my fatal defect. I recall other guys at college who were attractive to me, but I congratulated myself for keeping my feelings inside. Looking back, I am certain that more than a few of them were gay too, and yet even though up till now in my life I had always been the initiator, this time I kept my hands to myself. I must conclude with hindsight that this is where my destructive adult practice of leading a double life actually began.
While drinking was seemingly such an important part of college for so many, unbelievably, I never had even one drink, nor did I try any other recreational substances. After all, these tools were used by others to help them relax and drop their inhibitions. I hardly needed that! Instead, I knew I needed to be in control, at all times. I was on a mission that required being in absolute control always.
But while I was being a martyr I was also clearly damaging my chance to grow up socially, perhaps irreparably. At school I dated neither girls nor boys. I beat myself mentally about my failure to have a girlfriend, and made mental notes that I'd have to get busy on this task. I dutifully found a willing cutie and got to second base with her then quickly lost interest.
When I'd return home from school, Teddy would reappear, smiling and eager. He dated girls and seemed to be happy with that, but that didn't seem to dim his interest in me one bit. We still had many sexual encounters during the next few summers. He thought I looked "hot" and often told me so. I was glad to see him and felt safe with him. I thought of him as my drink of water after many months spent in the desert. In reality, he was more comparable to a drink craved by an alcoholic.
Sometimes when we were together, Teddy would simply ask to watch me masturbate, and I would do it for him. In turn, he liked to masturbate and have me watch. I loved to concentrate on his face as he lay near me, dropping all his inhibitions as he rubbed his long, pale but thickly veined erect cock. I noticed his labored breathing and the way his mouth quivered slightly open, the tip of his tongue appearing at his teeth for a moment at a time while his eyes fluttered back and forth beneath his closed eyelids. The muscles in his neck would strain as he lifted his head momentarily in the throes of pleasure, and I'd watch his cheeks and neck flush as his rubbing grew faster. Right then I'd know to look down just in time to see his balls draw up tight, his strokes quicken and shorten, as watch his milky white sperm overflow and spill out of the plump end of his pink cock. He'd relax and smile and lay back, unembarrassed by the sticky mess he'd made, then smiling and opening his eyes he'd look into mine and say, "That felt so good." I'd help him clean up.
I never seriously wondered about my own brother's adolescent development like I might have. He obviously was into some of the same things as I, yet having a frank discussion with him about his (and my) sexuality never crossed my mind, even for an instant. Was he gay? Did he struggle with his sexuality? Or was he straight and just an open-minded, free and experimenting guy as I imagined I was? I didn't care I guess and I didn't want to know anything. After all how could I have been open and honest with him when I was so completely unwilling to be honest with myself?
I didn't talk about any of this with Teddy either. Curious to me was that he seemed truly interested in girls in a way that eluded me. He easily talked about those he liked, their physical characteristics that he found attractive, and had been in a relationship with one. All through that summer he seemed to have passing crushes on several girls, and expressed his longing for them in a way that was foreign to me. I never felt such things for girls, but I didn't ask him to explain. I didn't want to go there with because I didn't want to have to discuss or evaluate my own feelings. I just didn't want to know what my own feelings really were, I suppose.
One evening when I was feeling especially conflicted and guilty when Teddy slipped into my bedroom and sat on my bed. "Come on over Brad", he said, unzipping immediately, exposing his already stiff penis and rubbing it suggestively. "I want you. Let's do each other".
I wanted him too. But at that precise moment I wanted to be straight more. "We have to stop doing this, Teddy", I said sternly. He looked suddenly crestfallen. He stopped rubbing and just looked at me with his big brown doe eyes.
"Why, Brad?" he asked.
"Because I don't want to do this anymore", I said. I left the room abruptly as he still sat on the bed. I made a point to avoid him for the rest of the summer, and from then on.
* * * * * * * * * *
Ten or more years later I met up with Teddy in New York City. I was an established and successful businessman, and Teddy was a stockbroker in Manhattan. He was "Ted" now to everyone else, but he was still Teddy to me. I sat with him in the park by the East River, just across the road from the World Trade Center. We ate dinner together in a trendy outdoor café and talked about our lives now.
Still a head shorter than me, Teddy had grown strapping and handsome, his wavy copper-red hair combed back like a GQ model. He wore an expensive suit and silk suspenders. I was also well dressed, as I had been visiting my clients that afternoon. We laughed at the waiter's expense, and reminisced how several years ago Teddy had unexpectedly been employed at a fancy restaurant as the waiter one evening when I visited with my girlfriend, a wonderful woman who was now my wife and the mother of our young son. That night I had been so surprised when Teddy had approached our table with the wine list that I had been at a loss for words. I introduced my friend to my fiancée, and he was charming as always, smiling and blushing the same way he always did.
Teddy was engaged to a girl himself now, and we talked about his bright future in finance. As the hour grew late and the words grew fewer, I said it.
"Want to come over to my hotel?" I asked "We can talk more. If it gets too late you can sleep over... I have an extra bed."
"Sure." He had agreed a little too quickly. It was clearly a question he had been anticipating.
We wordlessly crossed over the street to the large Hilton Hotel and silently rode the elevator to my floor. Guiding him to enter my room ahead of me, I then closed the door behind us. In that same instant I had my arms around his waist and he gripped me in return with his strong hands. We turned to face each other and hugged each other passionately.
"I have missed you so much, Teddy"
"I missed you too Big Brad", he said somewhat desperately.
We undressed each other quickly and even a little roughly. I was delighted to see his body filled out with fine muscles, and to see that soft red hair grew on his chest that had been smooth and bare the last time we had been together. He was wearing white silk boxer shorts, and I lay him down on the bed leaving them on him, kissing him all over. Teasing his nipples with my tongue I reached inside his shorts and found his massive monster hard and ready. Stripping his shorts down, we lay beside each other jerking each other off like we had done so many times as boys. The rubbing and moaning went on for a while, but I was too excited to hold out very long. As I violently began to come, I turned to kiss his mouth.
And he turned his head away. "No" he said.
I kissed his cheek instead. Rubbing his cock I coaxed him to have an orgasm and he did, though he got up almost instantaneously after it ended. "I have to go," he said brusquely, dressing immediately.
"What? Why?" I said disappointedly. Can't we just hang out like we used to?"
"No" he said. "We won't do this ever again." And avoiding my eyes he finished dressing and quickly left.
I was sad, but really hardly surprised. While I had had dinner with Teddy and then made love to Teddy, Ted had been the one who had just left my room. He was an adult, ready to be married and clearly wanting to put all of these shameful needs behind him, leaving them buried in his adolescence just as I had strived to do some years before. In fact, at that time I compartmentalized my secret life so completely that I didn't even consider my experience with him that night to have been cheating on my wife, which it was.
I have seen him at gatherings and functions several times in the more than fifteen years that have intervened. When he sees me, he is bright pleasant and cheerful (and married) but we have never discussed our adolescent relationship. Dropping subtle hints, I have tried to get him to talk about it with me, but he looks at me quizzically like he can't imagine what I am referring to, then he changes the subject. I suppose that while I have finally accepted my orientation after so many years of struggle, he is still a puzzle to me, and perhaps to himself.