Love in the
Christian parked his bicycle along the side of the house when he returned home late Saturday morning from Jamie’s, relieved that both his parents’ cars were gone. They never did anything together, so he assumed his father was probably at the office and his mother must have gone shopping. He stood in the middle of the yard, watching a few puffy cumulous clouds in the otherwise blue sky, and then slowly walked to the backdoor and entered the house.
The silence was most welcome. He didn’t think he could have dealt with his mother’s sarcasm or bitterness at that moment. He walked up the stairs to his room and immediately stripped off his clothes, the same ones he had worn the day before, and walked naked to the bathroom. He turned on the water in the shower and waited until it was almost scalding before stepping in. The heat of the water was painful, but he forced himself to endure it for several minutes before he vigorously soaped himself up. After washing off, he soaped himself up again and a third time before he felt clean enough to turn the water off and step from the shower.
towel around him, he walked back to his room and dressed in the most
conservative clothes he could find: a clean pair of jeans, a red and
stripped pullover, and sneakers. For several minutes he stood in the
the room, motionless, gazing at nothing, his mind a blank. The sound of
ambulance siren on
Back outside, he walked his bike to the carport and waited a moment, not certain where he was riding or why. He couldn’t go back to Jamie’s. That was the last place he wanted to be at that moment. And, the Gardens were out of the question. He felt like crying. It was as if the Gardens had been taken from him. His only place of refuge, his only retreat, his only escape was no longer available to him. He had never felt so alone.
He mounted the rickety old bicycle and slowly pedaled out into the street. With no plan and no care, he slowly rode north.
It was late afternoon before he returned home. He couldn’t remember where he had been or how far he had ridden, but his mother’s station wagon was back in the carport and he knew his father would be home soon. He parked his bike in the back yard and quietly entered the back door.
His mother was standing before the stove. She turned and looked emotionlessly at Christian for a moment and then turned back to the breaded meat she was frying. Christian noiselessly went upstairs to his room.
Dinner was quiet. No one spoke. When he was finished, he silently took his plate to the sink and walked out. No one said anything. Once upstairs, he turned on his radio to the Mighty 1090 and sat at his desk. For the next hour and a half he did his homework, relieved to have something to take his mind off the events of the previous night and that morning. But, when he was finished, he simply sat at his desk and looked out his window at the trees and the darkening sky.
The radio was playing a song from Jesus Christ Superstar called “I Don’t Know How to Love Him.” He snorted ruefully and then turned the radio off when the theme to The Summer of ’42 came on. The last thing he needed was the music from a movie where a teenage boy falls in love with an adult woman.
Or was it?
Nobody seemed to think there was anything wrong with a boy falling in love with a grown woman. Why was a boy falling in love with a grown man any different? Because it was gay? Was that the only reason? Lots of things were changing. He was always hearing older people talk about how life and culture were changing, how times were different now than they were back in the forties and fifties. He had read about the Sexual Revolution in Life magazine. Maybe in a few years, it would be OK to be gay. Maybe in a few years, people wouldn’t think it was weird for a boy to get it on with a grown-up man. Or, maybe not. There was something about that that just didn’t feel right to him.
He stood up from the desk and grabbed a paperback off the shelf, a collection of Star Trek stories by James Blish, and lay on his bed. It was after eleven o’clock when he heard his father going to bed. He closed his door, undressed, and, uncharacteristically, didn’t bother to put on his pajamas. He crawled into bed, turned off his light, and allowed his mind to replay the events of the night before.
The late morning sun illuminated the maple tree outside his window in the back yard. The dark green of the leaves seemed alive with a golden glow as Christian slowly opened his eyes and rolled over. In confusion, he looked around the room. His clock said “10:47.” Was it possible he had slept for ten hours? Was it possible that his mother hadn’t screamed hateful imprecations at him for oversleeping?
Quickly, he jumped from bed and grabbed his robe. He slowly opened his bedroom door and carefully listened for any sound. From downstairs, he could here the sound of a Sunday morning news program on the television, but nothing else. He could not smell the usual Sunday morning bacon. He looked up the hallway and saw the door to his parents’ bedroom was closed.
Christian walked out into the hall and crept down the stairs. When he reached the living room, he saw his father in a robe, sitting in his recliner, drinking coffee and reading the Sunday paper as Lawrence Spivak interviewed someone on Meet the Press.
“Dad, where’s Mom?”
His father didn’t look up. In a disinterested voice, he replied, “Asleep.”
Christian waited a moment and then asked, “Is she all right?”
“I doubt it,” his replied as if he could not have cared less.
“Well, what’s the matter with her?”
His father lowered the paper with an irritated expression on his face and replied, “I believe she’s hung-over. Is there anything else?”
Christian sighed and shook his head. He turned and went back up the stairs.
nearly eleven-thirty when he left his bedroom, showered and dressed in
and a green and white striped pullover. He made some toast and poured
orange juice and when he had finished his breakfast, peeked into the
room and announced to his father, who was still reading the Sunday
though the television now had a football game on, “I’m going out on my
Probably stop at the
“Fine,” his father replied automatically without looking up.
“Oh, and Eleanor Roosevelt called. She and Pablo Picasso are dropping by after awhile to sacrifice virgins in the atrium.”
“All right. Just don’t wake your mother, for God’s sake.”
“You bet your bippy. Sock it to me.”
His father nodded and Christian rolled his eyes as he turned back to the kitchen wondering if he could be any more irrelevant to either of his parents.
It was another warm September day and as he stood in the back yard, feeling more alone than he could ever remember, he made a decision. To Hell with them, he thought to himself.
He strode over to his bicycle and walked it over to the gate. Maneuvering it between his father’s Galaxie and his mother’s station wagon, he mounted it outside the carport and rode south. He turned on 28th and pedaled uphill until he came to the Christiansen house. He pulled into the driveway and rode around to the side gate. Opening it, he dismounted and pushed his bike into the backyard, lowering the kickstand and left it on the edge of the patio.
The drapes to the sitting room were open, though the light was such that he couldn’t see inside. He turned for a moment to look at the koi and was startled when the sliding glass door opened.
He turned and saw Daniel standing in the doorway wearing his same robe, with apparently nothing else on, holding a champagne glass with orange juice in it. He was smiling broadly.
“Hi, D-d-daniel,” Christian replied, feeling a stirring in his pants, which was making following through with his earlier decision a little easier.
“Or, should I now call you ‘Chris?’ Jamie tells me that he now calls you ‘Chris.’”
The boy smiled.
“You and… Jamie can call me… ‘Chris.’ You’re the only ones who… do.”
Daniel stepped outside and looked around as he stood barefoot on the concrete patio.
“Well, I feel honored that you include me,” he said with a smile. “Thank you.”
He put his unoccupied arm around Chris’s shoulder and said, “Jamie’s visiting friends this afternoon, but you’re certainly welcome to come in and visit. I’d love to see you.”
Chris closed his eyes and allowed Daniel’s arm to rest on his shoulder. Yes, he decided as he felt the familiar surge thoughoutt his body. He had made the right decision. To Hell with his parents.
“I’d lllove to visit,” Chris said softly as he looked up into Daniel’s eyes. The man held Chris’s eyes for several seconds and then softly replied, “I think you need a mimosa. Come on in.”
As he guided Chris through the glass door, the boy asked, “Wwwhat’s a mimmmosa”
“Champagne and orange juice,” Daniel replied directing the boy to the couch before which he and Jamie had made love the previous morning. Chris sat down as Daniel disappeared into the kitchen, only to reappear a moment later from the dining area carrying two full flutes. Chris noticed with a thrill that the front of Daniel’s robe seemed to tent out somewhat.
As the man handed Chris a glass, he sat down beside him, though not too closely, and lay his left arm across the back of the couch behind Chris’s shoulders. He smiled down and Chris took a sip.
“Do you like it? Daniel asked with a smile.
“It’s delicious. Until Fffriday nnnight, I’d nnnever drunk alcohol. Or eaten mmmarijuana brownies,” added with a naughty grin. Daniel smiled as he took a big sip of his drink.
“Well, we’re just exposing you to all kinds of new and wicked delights, aren’t we.”
Chris grinned but said nothing. He leaned back and looked out at the sunny patio.
“You and Jamie have become quite close in the last week,” Daniel said, his hand moving from the back of the couch to Chris’s shoulder. The boy nodded.
“Jamie’s the coolest guy I’ve ever mmmet. He’s the best friend I’ve ever had. He’s ssso smart and so… brave.”
With sudden enthusiasm, he turned to Daniel and declared, “You should have seen the wwway he took care of Craig Ssstinson. He’s this… bully who makes everyone’s life hard at school. He pushed him against the wall and said, ‘I’ll cut your dick off and shove it down your throat.’”
Chris felt a wicked pleasure at using the slang word for “penis” with an adult and Daniel grinned.
“Yeah, Jamie doesn’t take anything off anyone. He’s got a lot of fight in him.”
Chris had downed half his mimosa when he said, “Maybe I should send him after my Mmmom. He’d sure know how to put her in her… place.”
Daniel squeezed Chris’s shoulder and said softly, “Your parents aren’t very loving, are they?”
Chris looked off across the patio and shook his head. With a sigh, he replied, “They hate me. They always have. They love Chip, but he’s gone now. They like my sister, but she’s never home. They hate each other and I don’t know why they don’t get a divorce. I think Mom’s getting drunk all the time and Dad just doesn’t seem to care about anything.”
Daniel pulled the boy to him and Chris lay his head against the man’s chest. He sipped the last of his mimosa and Daniel set the empty glass on the side table. For several minutes, they said nothing as Daniel held the boy and Chris gloried in the warmth and strength of the man’s embrace.
Eventually, Daniel sighed and pulled slightly away.
“You are a very intelligent young man,” he said as Chris blushed and looked away. With his right hand, he reached over to the side table and picked up a pipe. He opened an elaborately carved box and filled the pipe with a green leafy material.
He smiled at Chris as he brought the pipe over.
“So you like to be exposed to new things,” he commented as he took the pipe in the hand wrapped around Chris. The boy looked nervously at the pipe and nodded as Daniel picked up a lighter with the other. He held the pipe to his mouth and lit it, drawing on it for a few seconds before slowly moving it, invitingly, toward Chris. The boy looked up at Daniel for a second. The man smiled and whispered, “It’s OK. Leave that boring, conventional life behind. Live a little.”
Chris felt a thrill and nodded. Daniel held the pipe to his mouth and he drew in his breath. For several minutes, the two said nothing, merely sharing the pipe and gazing out the window. Chris felt an incredible feeling of calm and serenity as Daniel set the pipe down.
“How do you feel?” he asked as he gazed down at the boy’s face and ran a finger along the edge of his bright orange hair. Chris looked up at Daniel with dreamy eyes.
“You know,” said the man, “You’re quite a beautiful young man. I can certainly see why Jamie is so smitten with you.”
Chris blushed and looked away.
“I’m not beautiful,” he replied. “Everyone makes fun of my hair and my freckles. And, my braces. They always laugh at my braces.”
Daniel squeezed the boy tighter and Chris lay against the man’s chest.
“They’re ignorant fools,” Daniel replied. “You have a beauty that some men would kill for.”
He gently kissed Chris on the top of his head and the boy felt a rush of emotion. He opened his eyes and saw he was looking down at Daniel’s lap and, in utter amazement, saw the cloth of the robe begin to rise. Slowly, inexorably, the silk rose as Daniel became firmly, rigidly erect before the boy’s eyes.
Daniel reached over to the table and refilled the pipe. As he did so, he said softly, “Yes, there are many men who would pay lots of money for the privilege of spending an evening with a handsome, charming, intelligent boy like you. You have no idea of the power you have.”
As he lit the pipe a second time, Chris gazed up at the man’s face in awe. That such a handsome and sophisticated man could have any interest in him was almost beyond belief. That the man was holding him and that he was fully and completely erect was more than he could understand. Tears formed in his eyes. Daniel noticed and kissed his forehead.
“People who take you for granted are fools. You’re beautiful.”
They shared the pipe a second time and Chris rested his head against Daniel’s chest, not moving when the man placed the pipe to his mouth, just reveling in the warmth and security. As he became increasingly high, he felt his erection straining harder against his jeans. Without thinking about it, he reached down with his left hand and adjusted it. Daniel watched.
“So, you’re going to be fourteen in two weeks, aren’t you?”
Chris simply nodded as Daniel’s left hand kneaded he boy’s shoulder.
“In some cultures, you’re already a man.”
Daniel placed the now empty pipe on the table beside him. Chris watched the hand float through the air back toward him and rest on his knee, where it began to message his thigh, just as his other hand was massaging his shoulder. The sensation was amazing. Chris had never felt anything like it. Daniel could feel the boy’s breath become ragged against his chest. Chris squirmed without realizing what he was doing.
“Yes, in some cultures, you are already a man. And, yet, you still possess the beauty, the charm, the innocence of a boy.”
Slowly, Chris looked up at the man’s face. Daniel gazed down at his half-closed green eyes for a moment and then said, “I understand that Jamie told you that he and I make love to each other.”
Chris paused a moment and then breathlessly replied, “Yes.”
“He told you how we began when he was seven and how we have continued.”
Daniel smiled, his eyes holding Chris’s almost hypnotically. The boy was enthralled. He couldn’t look away.
“And, what do you think of that.”
“I think Jamie is the luckiest boy in the world.”
Daniel’s smile grew wider as his right hand moved up Chris’s thigh, closer to his rigid boy cock, massaging more insistently. The boy gasped, but his eyes held.
“At first, I thought it was… strange. But, now I think it’s wonderful.”
Daniel paused a moment, his smile and his eyes mesmerizing the boy until he softly said, “I make love to Jamie almost everyday. You’ve made love to him, as well. And, now, I would like to make love to you. Would you like that?”
Chris could barely respond.
Daniel withdrew his right hand from Chris’s thigh and spread his legs. In doing so, the robe fell open and revealed his long, rigid erection. It rose perpendicularly, more than eight inches, from the dark blond public hair around it. Chris’s eyes fell to it and he gazed at it in awe.
“Your… dick. It’s… beautiful.”
Daniel thrust his hips upward slightly and shifted his hips down. He spread his legs more and whispered, “Touch it. Feel it. Feel my cock, Chris.”
Chris was trembling. Never had the feeling of lust been so great within him. He was dizzy. Between the pot, the champagne, and his natural adolescent horniness, he was nearly insane. His hands were trembling as they reached out toward the man’s penis. They seemed to glide through the air. It seemed to take so long and yet, when he finally grasped the hard, stiff cock, he whimpered with astonishment.
He simply held it for a moment and then slowly began to fondle it, moving one hand slowly upward toward the head and the other slowly down toward the base, the dark blond hair, and the man’s large balls. He twisted his right hand around the rock-like head of the cock and Daniel groaned softly. Chris’s left hand cupped around the man’s balls and held them. His head was trembling uncontrollably while he watched his hands as if they were someone else’s as they fondled the man. Daniel brought his left hand over to Chris’s head and held it gently against his chest, softly caressing the boy’s cheek and running his fingers through the orange hair.
“You sweet, lovely boy,” he whispered. “Your hands feel so wonderful, so soft, so gentle. That’s wonderful, Chris. So good. Yes, feel me. Feel my cock.”
Enflamed by the man’s words, Chris’s hands moved faster and more resolutely over the rigid penis, his breath warming Daniel’s stomach and sending chills through the man.
Suddenly, Daniel brought his right hand to the boy’s face as well and, holding it with both hands, gazed down into Chris’s eyes. The boy was helpless. He would have allowed the man to do anything at that point. Daniel held Chris’s eyes for a very long moment and then kissed the boy’s lips, softly, almost imperceptibly at first, but then with more firmness and passion and until his tongue pushed into Chris’s mouth and took possession of it.
Chris was helpless, a rag doll in the man’s arms as he made love to the boy. He wrapped his arms around him and held him tightly as his tongue plunged relentlessly into and through the boy’s mouth. He growled into the boy’s mouth and Chris whimpered.
His right hand slid down Chris’s torso to his lap and rubbed across the boy’s rigid crotch and Chris suddenly stiffened. His entire body arched inward and then thrust outward and he screamed into Daniel’s mouth as he came in his pants.
Daniel waited until the spasms ended. He felt the frantic bursts of breath through the boy’s nose against his face as Chris orgasmed and when the boy collapsed in his arms, he pulled away and looked down into the dazed face of the thirteen year-old.
“How beautiful,” he whispered. “How very beautiful.”
Chris could say nothing. He could only look upward, gasping for breath, delirious.
“I want to make love to you,” Daniel whispered. “I want to take you to my bed. I want to remove your clothes. I want to lay naked with you, and I want to make love to you all afternoon.”
Chris’s voice trembled as he breathed, “Yes.”
Daniel smiled broadly as he slipped his right arm under Chris’s legs and wrapped his left around the boy’s shoulders. He stood and held the boy in his arms before the window, as the warmth of the sun bathed them both. Chris wrapped his arms around Daniel’s neck and gazed worshipfully up at him. Leisurely, the man stepped around the couch and carried Chris though the sitting room and the hallway to his bedroom. He stepped to the unmade bed and leaned over, laying the boy down on the sheet and then standing over him, gazing with love at Chris, his erection straining rigidly above the boy. He sat down on the edge of the bed near Chris’s feet and began to untie his sneakers.
“Why don’t you take your shirt off,” he whispered and with trembling hands, Chris nodded and pulled it over his head. Careless, he tossed it on the floor as Daniel removed both sneakers and then his socks. Teasingly, he caressed Chris’s feet, tickling them and sending the boy into paroxysms of uncontrollable laughter.
“Stop!” he begged between laughs. Daniel simply smiled. The boy could not see a look in the man’s eyes as he continued to tickle him and it was several minutes before he finally relented, after the boy had writhed and jerked about the bed, struggling to free his feet from the relentless tickling, desperate to end the torture. As he gasped for breath and looked down at Daniel’s grin, however, he saw the man’s eyes were gazing at Chris’s erection, which, if anything, was even more rampant than before the tickling. A strange feeling came over the boy, a mixture of dread and wonderment, of surprise, of dismay, and arousal.
Daniel looked up at Chris’s slender arms, at the slight dusting of red hair on them, at the pale skin. He gazed at the boy’s torso, at the heaving tummy, the hairless chest, the penny-sized, copper-colored nipples that were so rigidly hard in the cool air of the bedroom. His eyes drank in the beauty of the slender neck, so boyish and yet, with its developing Adam’s apple, hinting at the manly changes to come. Daniel’s lips had fallen open as he stared at the boy. He closed them and smiled.
He reached upward and unfastened the boy’s belt. Pulling it open, he unsnapped the jeans and slid the zipper slowly downward, pressing against Chris’s erection as he did so and causing the boy the thrust upward and moan. He pulled the flaps of the jeans back, revealing the sticky, damp briefs beneath.
“What a bad boy,” he said grinning as he looked up at Chris’s face. The boy’s eyes had been glued to Daniel’s hands. He blushed and smiled in return.
Daniel removed the jeans and left Chris lying on the bed with only his briefs to cover his boyish erection. They were tented up and the boy felt such a wicked feeling of excitement as he felt himself so exposed. Daniel gazed at the white cloth and whispered, “Beautiful. Absolutely beautiful.”
Chris was amazed that he could have such an effect on the man, that anyone could find him beautiful. Once again, tears formed in his eyes. Daniel noticed and quickly lay beside the boy. He pulled the covers up over them and held the boy in his arms.
“You are so sweet,” he whispered in Chris’s ear, the warmth and touch of his breath sending shivers through the boy. “Such a sweet, beautiful boy.”
He ran fingers over Chris’s face as the boy gazed worshipfully at him, enthralled, rapturous that someone loved him, that Daniel was loving him.
The man leaned down and his lips touched Chris’s again. For a long moment, he gently kissed his lips and then his cheeks, his nose, his eyebrows. Chris whimpered as he felt Daniel’s breath on his neck and throat and then cried out as the man’s tongue began to lick over the smooth sensitive skin. It was too much for Chris and he bucked and writhed until Daniel, grinning, pulled away and gazed lovingly into the boy’s eyes.
“I am so pleased to have you in my life,” he whispered to Chris. “You are such a special young man.”
Chris could say nothing and Daniel knew he had touched something deep within him. He pulled the boy against him and for a long time, the two lay together, Chris desperately clutching at Daniel, feeling the man’s strength and warmth. Daniel’s hand slowly moved up and down the boy’s back, sliding over the elastic band of his briefs, gliding lower with each sweep, until he was cupping the boy’s butt and holding it.
After a long moment, Daniel rolled over on top of Chris and began to kiss his neck again. The boy was trapped underneath and couldn’t move, his squeals and whimpers as Daniel’s tongue licked the boy’s sensitive throat growing louder and wilder with each touch. Daniel rose up and raised the boy’s arms above his head. He held Chris’s wrists and looked down at the boy’s eyes, wide with fear and anticipation. He grinned and then attacked the left underarm. Chris screamed and twisted as the tongue tickled and loved the skin with its few sparse red hairs. But, when Daniel’s mouth moved down to his nipple, his cries became moans and his twisting became writhing.
Daniel made relentless love to Chris’s left nipple and then moved to the right. The boy groaned loudly and continued to writhe beneath the man as sensations he had never dreamed of coursed through his young body. But, as Daniel rose up and looked down at the exposed underarms again, Chris gasped with fear, even as his feeling of helplessness increased his anticipation.
This time, the tickling was brutal. He screamed with laughter and pleas for the man to stop. He could barely catch his breath as he twisted and bucked and struggled beneath the man as his tongue and the fingers of his right hand mercilessly teased and tormented the boy.
Suddenly, Daniel sat up. He scooted back, pushing the covers with him, and hooked his thumbs under the elastic band of Chris’s underwear. In one long, quick swoop, he removed the briefs and tossed them aside. Chris’s erection was fiercely hard. As he gasped for breath from the exertion of the tickling and the arousal, Daniel leaned over. Chris whimpered as he felt the hot breath on his sensitive penis. Daniel ran his index finger through the soft red public hair around the base of the throbbing erection. He extended his tongue and licked the churning boy balls as they clung tightly to the base of Chris’s cock; and, then, he ran his tongue up the boy’s erection in one long lick until he reached the taut head. He then swooped down and engulfed the entire penis in one rapid gulp.
Chris cried out and thrust his hips upward as he felt his cock enveloped in the man’s hot, wet mouth. He babbled incoherently as he grabbed Daniel’s head and desperately tried to push his penis further inside. He was so aroused that after plunging down on the iron-hard boner, Daniel brought the boy to his second orgasm. He savored the taste of the thin boyish cream as Chris cried and moaned, writhing uncontrollably beneath him.
For much of the rest of the afternoon, they lay together, loving each other gently, first Daniel sucking Chris, then Chris sucking Daniel, both kissing, holding, writhing against each other. It was the most beautiful experience of the young boy’s life and he hoped it would never end.
Until Daniel propped his head up on his arm, looked down into Chris’s face, and said, “You know, you could make so much money doing this. Do you know that? Really. You are so good, so hot, so pretty. You have that perfect all-American, kid-next-door look with the freckles and the braces. Men would kill to get it on with you.”
Chris looked up at him in confusion. He had intimated that earlier, but not with such enthusiasm and not after several hours of loving him so intimately and intensely.
“You know that’s what Jamie’s doing right now. He’s with some clients, some very wealthy men who pay a lot of money to spend time with beautiful boys like Jamie. And, you. Right now, Jamie is naked with three men and they’re sucking him and licking him and touching him and making him feel so hot and sexy. And, he’s going to get a hundred dollars for it. Imagine. A hundred dollars just to do this, just to have the most wonderful feeling in the world.”
Daniel sat up and leaned over to the nightstand. He opened a drawer and withdrew a pipe, loaded with green leafy material. Chris knew it was more pot, but he wasn’t excited. His heart was breaking. He thought Daniel loved him. He thought they had been making love. Daniel just wanted to get it on? He just wanted to propose that Chris become, what? A prostitute? And, he was making Jamie do that? Jamie was a prostitute? Jamie? Who loved him? Jamie who promised to protect him? That meant that Daniel was… his pimp. Jamie had said that he loved sex and that he loved having sex with men. Had be been paid for that?
Chris took the pipe from Daniel when it was offered and took a big breath. He held it for as long as he could and then took more. Daniel raised his eyebrow, pleased that the boy seemed so eager, not understanding the real reason Chris was smoking it.
“More,” the boy choked as the pipe was finished.
“Your wish is my command,” Daniel replied happily. He was too enthused to get the boy high and have more sex to see that Chris was not smiling or that his erection had gone down.
When they finished the second bowl, Daniel chuckled at the half-closed lids of his red eyes and the way Chris’s head swayed. He was filling the pipe a third time as Chris sat up.
Daniel was a pimp and Jamie was a whore and now he was going to be one, too. He hated Daniel, he hated the idea of what he was doing, but Chris also knew he was hooked. Yes, he liked it. He was ashamed. But, he loved it.
“Well, you two look like you’re having fun.”
Jamie was standing at the door, his tight white pants bulging in the crotch, his puffy silk shirt unbuttoned down to his tummy almost, but a look of disgust on his face.
“You’re home early,” Daniel said with a stoned grin.
“Actually, it’s almost four-thirty,” Jamie replied coldly. “How are you going to explain Chris being wasted to his parents.
Daniel looked at the boy with a stupid grin and replied, “Well, I guess Chris will just have to spend the night, won’t he?”
Jamie watched for a moment. He could see Chris’s eyes devouring him. He could also see his erection rising again.
Daniel staggered up from the bed and chuckled.
“I have to pee. I’ll call his parents and tell them we want to take him to dinner and something. I can charm anyone.”
Daniel walked to the master bathroom and closed the door. At the sound his urine hitting water, Jamie walked over to the night stand and picked up the pipe. He looked carefully at Chris as he took a hit. Holding his breath for a moment, he sat down on the edge of the bed, exhaled toward the bathroom, and looked at his friend again. Chris grinned stupidly and asked, “What’s the matter?”
Jamie shook his head and took another hit. Only when he expelled it did he look again at Chris. He bit his lip and suddenly Chris’s grin vanished as he saw the pain in Jamie’s eyes.
Jamie took a third hit from the pipe, trying to get high as quickly as possible, and then, when it was expelled, took Chris’s hand.
“I know what you’re feeling.”
Chris furrowed his forehead.
“Wha-what do yyyou mmmean?”
“I know how you feel right now.”
“Yeah. You’re in The Trap.”
“What do yyyou mmmean?” Chris asked.
“It’s what I call it. It’s when you’re doing something you don’t want to do, but you do want to do, but you don’t, but you do. Dad’s an expert at setting the trap.”
Chris looked down at his erection. As Jamie offered him the pipe, he shook his head. Jamie replied, “Good. I need it.”
He could hear the toilet flush and after exhaling another hit, said, “I’ll be with you tonight. I’ll share everything. Don’t worry. I’ll be with you. When he gets into one of these moods, it’s all night. But, don’t worry. I’ll be with you.”
Daniel stepped out of the bathroom and staggered out of the room, his penis swaying with his steps.
Jamie finished the pipe and put it down. He slowly took off his clothes and climbed onto the bed with Chris. He lay beside the boy and whispered, “No matter what happens tonight, Chris, remember. I love you. I love you and I’ll protect you. It’s OK to give in to it tonight. Enjoy it and tomorrow, I’ll be with you and we’ll be OK.”
“I’m not sure what you mean,” Chris replied.
“Don’t worry,” said Jamie. His penis was completely erect now, and he took Chris in his arms. Their lips met and they began to make love, softly and gently at first, but their passion mounted and when Daniel returned to announce that Chris’s father had agreed without any protest or seeming interest at all in the boy spending the night, he found them writhing together in a near frenzy.
He smiled, pleased with how easy his victory had been. Grasping himself, he stood above the bed and masturbated as he watched the two boys love each other.
thought, gently stroking himself. It was almost too easy.