Date: Thu, 20 Mar 2003 01:06:22 -0500 From: Tom Cup Subject: In Memory of Steve - Chapter 8, A/Y, interracial, incest Copyright 2000, 2001, 2002 by the Paratwa Partnership: A Colorado Corporation. All rights reserved. No part of this work may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means electronic or mechanical, except in the case of reviews, without written permission from the Paratwa Partnership, Inc, 354 Plateau Drive, Florissant, CO 80816 This is a fictional story involving alternative sexual relationships. If this type of material offends you, please do not read any further. This material is intended for mature adult audiences. Names, characters, locations and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. ************************************************************************ In Memory of Steve By Tom Cup Chapter 8 Respite The smile on my face wouldn't go away. I sat next to Steve, staring out the window of the car, as we drove into the Pocono Mountains. Our camping gear was piled in the back seat of the car. Mom and Dad had giving little resistance to Steve rewarding my helping Angie by taking me camping. The door to my room opened, Mom in front of Dad at the threshold. I was lying lazily on my bed, on my belly, my feet in the air. Mom's hand was on the doorknob. Dad stood pensively behind her, looking more at her shoulder than at me. "I guess you know Steve wants to take you camping," Mom asked. "Yeah," I said lazily. It wasn't that I wasn't excited about the prospect, I was. It was that I wasn't as confident as Steve that my parents wouldn't veto the idea. Mom seemed confused by my nonchalant attitude. She looked back at Dad. "You don't have to go if you don't want to," Mom offered. "I want to go," I whined, "But ..." Uneasy glances passed between my parents. It's wonderful, though rare moments, when a kid can expose his parents' inconsistencies, when he can point a finger at them and say, `you were wrong.' I was in such a moment and wanted revel in it. "But what?" Dad asked, his voice pure confusion but his face showing a little annoyance and maybe a little anger. "I don't know..." Mom stepped into my room and Dad timidly followed her. As Mom sat on my bed, I sat up; throwing my legs over the edge. Dad stood, uneasily looking from Mom to me -- shifting his weight from one foot to the other from, time to time. "What is it Mikey?" Mom asked. "I feel like a yo-yo." Dad remained silent. Mom took a deep breath. "First we are like a family, then you make me treat Steve like.... I don't know ... then you let me go over there and now ..." "Well, don't you want to go?" Mom asked. "Yes! But I don't want to go and then you start acting like ... like you did before." Bull's eye! Mom looked at Dad, there were sighs. They knew what I meant. I wanted to be free to see Steve again without them poking their noses up my ass! I understood their concerns but if Steve was making me do something that I didn't want to do, I trusted my parents enough to tell them. But it really pissed me off that they thought they knew what I liked or what was "good for me." I know my friends wouldn't even understand where I was at sexually; most of them were still trying to figure out if jacking off was a good thing! I don't know why I have always responded positively to my dick but I have. I wasn't going to `grow out of this.' It didn't matter that Steve was the first guy I slept with, I was gay -- I was always gay and always would be gay. I hadn't before conceptualized myself in that way but sitting there, with my parents, trying to negotiate, reasonable terms for seeing Steve it dawned on me. I'm gay and my parents will have a hard time accepting it. Steve isn't really the problem here. The problem is that my parents have a picture in their heads of who I am and they sense that that picture might be wrong -- they were right. "What do you want us to say?" Mom asked. "I don't know," I breathed, "that you trust me, I guess." "We do trust you," Dad offered. I looked into his eyes. I had never seen my father look so helpless. Mom gently stroked my back. I didn't want to argue but I wanted them to understand. "I know what you think," I said, "But if something bad happened, I'd tell you. Really I would." Mom started to cry. Dad nodded shamefully. They hadn't trusted me. We all understood that. They thought that it was Steve that they had "misgivings about." They now understood that it was me -- or both of us. Without denying what was happening between Steve and I, I had told them the truth. I was aware of their concerns and I would have told them if I didn't like what was happening. I don't know how Mom and Dad received my words -- what they thought I was saying to them. They may have thought I was flatly denying that anything sexual was happening between Steve and I. That didn't matter to me. I had meant what I said. I had told them the truth and they accepted whatever they thought it meant. My hands lay lazily on my knees, Steve's right hand rubbed to top of my left hand. His fingers played with between my fingers. I looked at him and smiled. The first time we got away together, I was in a rush to be with him. I couldn't wait to get my clothes off and meld our two bodies together. This time it was different. I knew something about myself. The feelings that I was having wouldn't go away -- they were mine forever -- that had been my fear the first time. I felt I had to grab the feelings that raged in me before they disappeared. I could relax now. I would always be gay. "You're a mile away, buddy. Everything OK." I flipped my hand palm up and entwined my fingers with his. "Yes," I said, "Everything's fine now." "You sure? You look like you have something on your mind." "Yeah, I'm OK. I was just thinking..." "What?" "It's nothing." "Come on," Steve urged. "I was just thinking that I'm gay." Steve examined me for a moment. "You don't have to decide that right now Mikey." I shook my head. "I'm not deciding Steve," I said, "I am. I've always been and always will be. I know that now. That's all." "You don't think that what we've...." Again, I shook my head. "It's not because of you," I said, feeling a little hurt that he would blame himself for me being gay; as if there were something wrong with what we were doing and by extension who I was, "It's just who I am. I can't help it." Steve nodded. "I love you," he said. It was what I needed to hear. I smiled. "I love you, too." ************ Our lot was near the back of the campgrounds. Steve had requested the remote location. We pitched our tent -- we arrived shortly after six on that Friday night -- and by seven o'clock Steve had burgers frying on the Coleman stove. I was content to watch him -- sitting on the picnic table provided -- savoring the smell of the meal mixing with the fresh air and the fragrance of the woods around us. I was content, knowing that I was alone with my lover and that we had the weekend together to romantically fulfill each other's desires. The sun was going down, casting an orange glow over our mountain retreat. In the distance, someone was strumming a guitar and singing campfire tunes. We ate quietly; sporadically Steve would reach across the table and stroke my hand. It felt so good to have him relaxed about these spontaneous shows of affection. We washed the plates and utensils, using the spigot provided each campground; and then sat on the picnic side by side, as Steve stroked my back, and we watched the stars becoming brighter in the sky. I leaned my head on Steve's shoulder. He brushed the top of my head with his cheek. "I love you," I whispered. "I know. And I love you too." He sighed. "It's not fair." I sat straight and looked at him. "What?" "What you said in the car. That you were gay. I've been thinking about it. I think I am too. The only person I want to be with is you. It's fucking confusing." "I know." "I mean why didn't I figure this out sooner. Look at the mess were in and I don't know how to stop it." "What do you mean?" "I mean I'm married. The more I think about it the more I realize that I got married for all the wrong reasons. And you know what?" "What?" "I'm staying married for the wrong reasons too. I'm staying married because of you. I can't stand the thought of being without you and I know it's the only way. I see that now. I've got to find a happy medium." He stared at me and then brushed my cheek. "Let's go inside, OK?" I nodded. We watched one another undress. I thought about what Steve had told me. He was staying with Angie to be near me. I thought about how I had wished he would divorce her -- realizing that he was right. If he divorced Angie, there would be no more camping trips. He would see Chris and Meesha but I would be an ex-brother-in-law. We would both be expected to behave as such. I would have to share him if I was to have him. Alone with him -- sliding into the sleeping bag, our bodies entangling themselves -- the thought didn't seem so bad. It had been so long since we had been intimate. I lay for the longest time huddled in his arms, breathing in his fragrance, transfixed by his hands slow roaming my body. He rolled me onto my back and smiled lovingly down on me. I smiled back, inviting his kiss. He wet his lips and I wet mine. His head lowered and I opened my mouth. His tongue found mine. His hand ran over my chest. My hand ran over his bicep, his shoulders and up his neck, pulling him into our kiss. His right inner thigh rocked against mine. His cock pressed against my pelvic as my cock throbbed against his side. He broke our kiss and ran his hand through my hair, and then brushed my cheek with the back of his hand. "You're so beautiful," he whispered. I nearly cried. His lips slid down my neck and to my chest. He licked at my nipples. I squirmed in delight, thrusting my cock involuntarily into the air in anticipation of the coming moments. His tongue snaked down to my abdomen. He stuck it in my belly button and twirled around inside. I moaned deeply, precum leaked from my rigid penis. I pushed his shoulders and lifted my hips. He took me into his mouth. I inhaled. He sucked me methodically as I pumped slowly in and out of his wet crevice. He moaned, enjoying sucking me as much as I was enjoying being sucked. He withdrew my cock from his mouth and blew on the head. I gasped. He tongued me -- from the crack of my ass, over my balls, up the length of my cock to the head - then covered me with the warm, soft, wet interior of his mouth once more. I bucked in his mouth, rotating my hips joyously. Again he released my cock, blew and began the slow lick back to the head. "Oh Steve," I breathed. My groin ached for him, my ass relaxed and wanting. I sucked in breath through my teeth. Again he slowly bobbed on me. I rocked into him. I was at the pinnacle of ecstasy being held from falling over into orgasm. I pushed his head away. I was ready for him to enter me. He didn't ask what I wanted. He knew. He retrieved the KY from his backpack, applied some to his palm and handed the tube to me. I groaned as I administered the ointment to myself. I enjoyed the feeling of my finger slipping in and out of my dark hole; I often fingered myself at home as I masturbated, but with Steve kneeling over me lubricating his cock in preparation of entering me the pleasure was increased exponentially. My breath trembled. I spread my legs. Steve positioned his cock at my waiting door. He lowered his head and we kissed. Then he pushed himself inside of me. I closed my eyes and received him with a deep inhale. Neither of us moved. I lay still enjoying the stretched fullness of his throbbing cock in my ass. My cock jerked against my belly, clear fluid draining from it onto my flesh. Steve pushed forward and then retreated. I pushed forward and retreated. His cock slid in and out of me. We slowly danced, holding each other on the brink of orgasm. His lips again found mine. We bucked slowly at each other, Steve sporadically rotating his hips causing his cock to circle within me. I bucked at him. Sucking in air through my panting, trembling from the mounting ecstasy. I grabbed at his hips. I needed more of him. He pumped earnestly into me, filling me, stretching me -- our orgasms rising to meet each other. "Oh God, baby," Steve whispered, "I can't take it anymore. I gonna cum." "Oh Jesus, please," I begged. Steve's hands grabbed my ass and pulled me hard onto his cock. I released myself to him. His cock slid faster, and deeper, in and out of me. I lay paralyzed by the feeling, waiting for the explosion that was moments away. Steve's gripped tighten on my ass cheeks. He bucked furiously and then froze, pushing his cock as deeply as he could into me. My eyes slammed shut. I gritted my teeth. My stomach trembled. Involuntarily I bucked back on Steve's cock, it slid a fraction of an inch deeper. It was all we need. I explode, shaking and writhing. My sperm exited my body as Steve shuttered and shot his hot cum into my trembling hole. We lay motionless, Steve's cock still hard and buried inside of me. He had collapsed on top of me but his weight was not a burden. I opened my eyes when I felt him move, to slide out of me. "No," I whispered, "Leave it there a little longer." He smiled at me, ran a hand through my hair, and adjusted his position so we would be comfortable lying with his cock in my ass. We kissed and stared into one another's eyes. We nuzzled noses and giggled in the freedom of loving one another. I squeezed my ass periodically on his cock and he pumped me lazily. Soon the intermittent cock and ass play became rhythmic and we seriously fucked each other once more. ********** I woke the next morning feeling complete. Steve was lying by my side when I opened my eyes. We smiled at each other. We entangled our bodies and kissed. We were both hard again but satisfied with our lovemaking of the night before. It was enough to cuddle together. We laid together, nuzzling and kissing, to past ten-thirty. I had to pee. I slipped my jeans on -- I loved the way they felt over my bare, fucked, ass -- and poked my head out the tent door. I felt Steve take a leisurely feel of my ass. I paused before continuing to crawl out of the tent -- allowing him to finish his groping. He gave me a loving swat and I continued on my way. I relieved myself in the bushes behind the tent. When I returned Steve had his jeans on -- no shirt or shoes like me, and I guessed no underwear either -- and was starting breakfast. I sat on the picnic table watching. We flashed each other smiles; there was nothing to say. Everything we wanted we had at that moment. We had each other. We hung around the campsite for most of the day, watching one person or another passing by on the way to the fishing hole. When it got to hot, or we got to hot, we retired to the tent to cuddle together. We napped in one another's arms, woke and caressed one another -- storing memories for when we had to return home. Just before dinner, Steve rolled me on my back, unzipped my jeans and sucked me off. As I lay panting from the orgasm, he laughed and said, "The appetizer was great. Now for dinner." I lay drunkenly on the tent floor as he went out to prepare dinner. I fell into a light sleep. I woke to the sound of voices outside the tent. I zipped my pants and crawled out to investigate. There was a man talking to Steve. His name was Roy. He was the fellow we heard singing the night before. He was trying to get a sign-a-long together and was inviting each campsite to join him at the amphitheater. The sing-a-long would start in an hour so, he said, we had plenty of time to finish dinner and join the group if we chose. Steve thought that it would be fun -- and I had had enough sex to keep me satisfied until we got back to retire for the night. So after dinner, we went to the baths in the center of camp. We bathed, dressed and join the sing-a-long. It was great fun. Everyone was friendly and relaxed. We sang, swaying, with arms around each other as a group. I loved the fact that I could show affection for Steve in public. I know the rest of the group didn't perceive my affection as sexual -- that was Steve and my secret -- but it was still nice to share him openly in a camp style manner. There was a ten o'clock noise limit at the grounds so the group broke up just before then. Steve and I said good-bye to our new friends and headed for our tent. The outdoors, the camaraderie of the group, and being with Steve, made me feel like we were a married couple leaving a neighbor's party, heading home for a private nightcap of our own. I wasn't disappointed. ************************************************************************To support this and other writings of Tom Cup, become a member at http://www.tomcup.com. Send comments to: comments@tomcup.com ************************************************************************