Date: Wed, 27 Nov 2013 15:21:46 -0800 (PST) From: G. Mindo Subject: Sister's tutor "How do you say `cat'?" "`Katze'", answers Mindy. "How do you say `dog'?" "`Hund'", she says, with the proper pronunciation of an eleven-year-old. "`Mouse'?" "Just the same." "Right, but how do you write it"? "M-A-U-S." "What's the article?" "Feminine." "What if it's a male mouse?" "Duh, still!" "Nuh-uh!" "Yu-huh!", she replies emphatically. "And in plural?" She gets quiet and smiles, knowing I have her. "Aaaand zero..." "No! It's, uh... it's `Mausen'?" I pretend to write on my note book. "Zero... points... for little... Mindy. She has disappointed me ..." "Shut up!", she laughs, slapping me in the arm. "...profoundly..." "Shut up, don't say that!", she shrieks, laughing still, showing the very cute gap between her teeth in all its glory. "I hate hearing that." "You are the cruelest teacher... probably ever", says from the couch her brother Jonah, the thin, green-eyed fifteen-year-old with the brown mop of hair. I look at him and put on my `holier-than-thou' face. "Jonah, I have to tell you... I have simply no endurance for incompetence. Ouch!" "Excuse me", asks Mindy, having just pinched me, "who are you calling incompetent?" "Pinch him, Mindy. Pinch the crap out of him." "You think I can't take on both of you? Bring it on, babies." "Grab him by the arms", says Jonah, getting up from the couch where he usually sits to surf the web while we work. "Grab him tight, Mindy." Mindy holds my hands behind my back. I don't even try to resist. I play along. Jonah approaches me and squeezes my cheeks. "Who's the baby? Who's the baby, Rob?" He starts tickling me. "It's not my fault... your sister... can't learn German." "Shut up", says Mindy behind me. "I'm great at German. My whole class is jealous of me." "Well, they must suck too", I say, which earns me a slobbery bite on the neck. Mindy growls like a little dog, which cracks me up. "The sandwiches are ready", calls from the kitchen Joanna, their mother. They release me just in time as she sticks her head in to check on us. "How did the class go?" "Oh, terrible. Terrible. It's hopeless, Joanna", I say. They all laugh. I wouldn't be this way anywhere else. Mindy's case is special, though. I've been teaching her for the past two years, and it's, in part, thanks to me that she's about to get accepted at her school's language program, which would facilitate her way into exchange programs and the possibility of one day going to college abroad. Her family and I have grown pretty close over that time, to the point where they've had me over for dinner on a couple of occasions. They invite me to movies and even parties that they host from time to time. Mindy has grown very close to me, and I've come to care for her an awful lot too. I would never admit it, but their house has begun to feel much more like a home to me than my own apartment. The sandwiches have turkey ham, which I hate, but I eat it nonetheless. It was made for me, so I eat it. Jonah, Mindy and Joanna talk freely and at ease, as if I were another member of their small family. "How's it going with your roommate, Rob?" asks Joanna. "Feet still stinky?" "The floor melts away whenever he walks barefoot. I've got a clear view of the apartment below me now." They laugh again, Mindy much more eagerly, like the eleven-year-old she is. "Yeah, like yours are any better", mumbles Jonah through a mouthful. "Excuse me, when have you ever smelled my feet?" "Mom, remember when he came the other day sopping wet from the rain and he had to remove his shoes?" "Jonah, I was boiling broccoli that day", says Joanna. "Mm, dunno. It smelled like feet to me." "Must have been smelling yourself, bud", I say. "My feet smell like roses. A rainbow shines whenever I my shoes come off." Again, Mindy laughs madly. For about an hour, we have a great, fun, cheerful conversation that ends only because I have to get up early tomorrow and it's already 10 o'clock. Before I walk out, Joanna tells me to wait while she brings down the scarf I forgot the other day. I stay by the door, with Jonah by my side. "You're gonna catch something if you stand by the door with those little shorts", I tell him. "I've got a sweater. I'll be fine." "You mean the ol' `grandpa' sweater." I'm referring to the shaggy woolen thin he's wearing. "Hey, these are coming back big time." "Wow. You are just the coolest kid ever, aren't you?" As he laughs, I feel guilty. "I am, yes. Thank you for noticing." "Here you go", says Joanna, coming down the stairs. She wraps the scarf around my neck. It smells nice. They probably washed it. "Bye, honey. Take care." "Tell Mindy to study hard for Friday. It'll make my day if she passes." "Don't you worry. With a teacher like you..." I kiss Joanna goodbye. Jonah looks down, awkwardly, clearly avoiding having to say goodbye himself. As the door closes behind me, the guilt comes back. I shouldn't be making him laugh. I shouldn't be giving him any hope. I should know better. About two weeks ago, during one of Mindy's lessons, I had excused myself to go to the bathroom. As I was washing my hands, I heard them talking about me in hushed tones. "Jonah... he's twenty, you're fifteen." "Yeah, like that's the biggest problem." "You know what... with these things, you never know. Maybe he is too, maybe he isn't." "So you're saying that if he was, you'd be okay with it?" "No, I don't think so, honey. He's your sister's teacher. And he's... he's too old for you. It would make things too complicated." There was silence for a while, and then she asked "But you really like him, huh?" He gave no audible answer, which could have meant a shrug, or a so-so hand gesture. Or a firm nod. I felt sad and flustered at the same time. I promised myself I would have to tone down my level of ease around Jonah, but as time went on, I found that promise losing its strength. He has become noticeably more forward, and even more physical. Like today, with the cheek-pressing. The other day, he touched my face to check my temperature. When it comes to horsing around, he always seizes a chance to get close. I ask myself why it is so hard to put a stop to it on my end. The answer is that it may be a little too much fun. I'm splitting my time between teaching jobs and school work, with barely a break to breathe. It's just good to feel liked. I make myself promise: next time, I'll be less permissive. ... It's Friday. Even though I have my own classes to worry about, all I can think about is Mindy's exam. I'm sure she'll pass, and I'm excited for her. I'm certain they're at least gonna call to give me good news and the thanks. And surely enough, after lunch, my cellphone rings. "Robby?" "Hi! So? How did she do?" "She's right here next to me, BEAMING with pride. Tell her yourself, honey..." The phone shifts hands and I now hear Mindy's happy voice on the other end. "I did EVERYTHING right! Everything! Nothing was difficult!" "How do you know?" "Because I know!" "What's the plural of `Maus'?" "'Mäuser'!" "Ah-HA! Great for you, Monster Girl! I knew you`d do it! What are you gonna do to celebrate?" "We're gonna invite you over! Wanna come? We're going to the movies!" I pretend I'm not so sure that I can make it, and that I have to check first, but I have every intention to go. I skip my two-to-four class, I take the bus and I meet them at the mall. When I greet Joanna, though, she looks mortified. "Robby, I got a call from the office, they need me urgently. I can't stay, I really can't. Listen, I hate to do this to you, but... I was thinking maybe you'd like to catch the movie just you and the kids? I mean, if you can't, I totally understand, I can send Mindy back home with Jonah on a bus..." "Not at all. I'll stay with them. It'll be fun." "You are such a treasure, my darling. Thank you, thank you, thank you." She kisses me goodbye, then her kids, and she leaves. I turn to face Jonah and Mindy. Jonah looks like someone who's happy and trying to hide it. "So? What's the movie?" With Mindy it's simple. She's eleven, and everything I say seems to hit home with her. But it's my first time with Jonah in this sort of context. I'm here to entertain, to have a fun time, supposedly. So how do I do that and at the same time hold back? Jonah and I start off slow, throwing a joke here and there, but it only takes me a couple of minutes to realize that it's gonna be impossible to keep a distance with him. At least today. "What are you doing?" "I'm eating popcorn", he says. "You're eating the popcorn that's mine and your sister's. You said you didn't want any." "Well... now I do", he says, chewing happily. I close the bag, but he defiantly picks up the pieces that fell to the tray. "Give those back." "Make me." "I hope you choke on them." "You want them back? Here." He takes out of his mouth the little balls of hard corn and hands them to me. I take them and throw them back at his face. He laughs. In the movie, I sit between him and his sister. Every now and then he talks to me, telling me who he thinks the actors look like, or something about how ridiculous the plot is. When the leading lady shows up in a bikini, he covers my eyes. I look at him when he doesn't know I do. I wonder how he can watch the movie with that big curtain of floppy hair around his eyes. He seems happy. Maybe more than he should be. How do I handle this? Am I doing things right or wrong? When the movie's over, we go to the bookstore. Mindy stays in the fantasy book section, but Jonah has gained enough confidence to stick beside me at all times. I pick up books with ridiculous names and read them aloud, making him laugh. I have to admit: he makes good company. He meets a girlfriend from school. After she greets him, she looks at me. "And this is...?" "Oh, he's... a friend." "I'm Rob, Mindy's German tutor." "Oh", she says, surprised. "You're the German tutor..." Jonah instantly starts talking about an unrelated matter, but it becomes clear that he has told her about me. Exactly what is anyone's guess. When I sit down to read, he does the same. Again, I look at him. He's got a few freckles here and there. His hair falls around his face in an effortlessly graceful manner, with a diagonal fringe almost entirely covering his left eye. I look at him long until he shakes it off. I can't imagine him having no other romantic prospects. Surely many gay guys must find him attractive. When I look at the clock, it's six. I tell them it's getting late, and that if we don't take the bus now, they'll just get fuller and fuller. But it's too late to avoid the crowds. There are no seats, we have to stand up. Jonah and I end up face to face, holding onto the same pole. I make an experiment. As more people come in, we all have to press closer against each other. Jonah has the option to move back and let someone get in between us, or come closer. He does the latter. His hand is just above mine on the pole, and I notice, without it looking like I am, that he moves it down a little whenever he can. Just for fun, I move mine upwards a couple of millimeters. Soon enough, they're touching. I look at his face, so close to mine now I can smell his hair. Freckles. Pouty lips. Green eyes. We walk home from the bus stop. Mindy's still full of energy, the huge weight of a big test now lifted off her small shoulders. "How long are you gonna stay?" she asks me. "Hm, I don't think too long." "Oh, come on! We can play something! Wanna play Monopoly?" And just as she says that, without so much as a warning, I huge downpour starts falling. In a matter of seconds, it's as if we're all under one big shower. We run, laughing, but it takes us over a minute to get to their door, at which point we're all soaked beyond repair. Jonah opens the door, and I'm welcomed by the warmth and pleasant scent of their home. "Holy shit, what was that?" I ask. Then I remember. "Mindy forget that word. Only adults can curse." "I already know that word, Rob." "Okay, but don't use it. Ever." "She uses it all the time", reveals Jonah. "Just the other day, when drawing something in her sketchpad, she went `Oh, shit, what is this crap?'" "No I didn't! Shut up!" "You shut up", Jonah teases her. "No, you." "You shut up, you little goblin." He grabs her and wraps her in his arms, making her squeal from the cold. "No! Ah! Cold, cold, cold." "Go up and change your clothes STAT", Jonah orders her. She goes, and then he looks at me and evaluates the situation. Pressing back a smile, he says "You want to see if my clothes fit you?" "Kid, you're tiny. Your Baby Gap clothes aren't gonna cut it. Don't worry, I'm gonna head home. Can I borrow an umbrella, though?" "Shut up. You stay right there, don't move." He starts running up the stairs, but before he goes around the corner, he turns and says "And don't call me kid." Then he vanishes from sight. I chuckle. After about a minute of agonizing cold and of hearing him rummage through the several closets upstairs, he comes down holding a baggy, broad-collared sweater and a pair of lycra pants. He was now wearing his same old woolen sweater and white shorts. "Right. What the hell is that?" I ask. He laughs, knowing full well how I'd react. "It's my mom's. It's all I got. Take that off and put this on. Come on, you're gonna catch something." "No... you know what, I think I am gonna head home. Just tell your mom..." "Don't be an idiot. Just put this on." "I'm not gonna wear a lycra, Jonah." He snorts. "Okay, but at least take those clothes off and put on the sweater. We'll dry your clothes on the heater, and then you can leave. Oh, and take your shoes off." "Ugh. Whatever." I grab the sweater and go into the bathroom. As I get undressed, I hear Jonah, outside, calling his mom. "Yeah, I told her to go change... yeah, he says he wants to go home, but I gave him clothes to change into while his stuff dries out... your blue sweater and some pants... okay, I'll put him on. Rob! My mom wants to talk to you." "Rob? Honey, I'm so sorry, I'm gonna have to stay for a while longer. Otherwise I'd go and drive you home! But now that it's raining, maybe it's better to just wait until your clothes are dry, hm?" "Yeah, don't worry about me. I guess I'll stay for a while." "But wait until the storm's over!" "All right. Will do, ma'am. "Don't you call me that!" I go outside wearing only Joanna's sweater, which I have to constantly readjust so as to not let it slip sideways, and my mostly dry boxers. Mindy comes down and at her insistence, we play Monopoly. During the game, the sweater keeps slipping, exposing my shoulder and making me look weird and womanly. Jonah has to hand me a clip to tie the thing around my neck. The game goes on forever, with Mindy eventually gaining a clear advantage. She's great at math. The clock hits eight, then nine. Even with victory in her sights and a hundred laughs per minute, Mindy starts to doze off. The poor kid has to get up at six every morning for the whole week, so it's no wonder she's tired. Jonah and I insist she go to bed. As Jonah takes her upstairs, I go to the heater to check on my clothes. They're still moist as hell. I put my pants on to see how bearable it is. Jonah comes down. "There's no way those are dry yet." "You guys ever heard of a drying machine?" "Oh, do excuse us. I guess with what we pay you, it doesn't leave us enough to purchase appliances." I look at him with a comically serious expression. He tries to hold my stare, but he laughs, and I laugh too. I keep putting on my less-than-dry clothes. It's still raining elephants outside. "Don't be stupid, Rob." "You're stupid." "Just wait until my mom comes. She'll drive you home." "It's nine. Come on. When she gets home' she'll want to go to sleep." "No, stay. We can watch TV." I look at him. If I had to guess, judging from his body language, the look on his eyes, his breathing... I would say he's decided to go for it. He's left his sister upstairs, made sure she's asleep, and has come down determined to have a go at it. He looks nervous enough. I have to admire his nerve. If I'm right, that is. "I have to go, Jonah." "No... you don't." He walks up to me and takes my hoodie from my hands. He puts it back behind the heater, then turns back to me. "Take the pants off." "No." "You're gonna come with me to the living room, you're gonna sit on the couch and we're gonna watch TV. You can't sit there with those wet pants, so you'll have to take them off and put back the blue sweater." "You mean your mom's blouse?" "Yes", he chuckles. "And I'm GONNA do all those things you just said?" "You are." "You're pretty self-assured tonight, aren't you?" "I'm feeling that way, yeah." ... Sharing the couch with Jonah has produced a very comfortable feeling of closeness. About an hour into the movie, I begin to get an erection, in spite of my best attempts to mentally suppress it. My sweater keeps slipping sideways, and Jonah's bare legs keep shifting positions. Old self-imposed rules begin to lose grip, and I find myself thinking things I'd never allow myself before. Calculating our age difference (five years). Wondering at what moment would his mom arrive (likely less than an hour). Or what would things be like afterwards, should anything happen today. But this is all conjecture. I am only allowing myself to THINK these things, which doesn't come remotely close to allowing myself to DO them. Jonah turns sideways, looks at me and playfully pretended to kick me in slow motion in the face, sound effects included. "Droosh!" he says. His leg is smooth and lean. He lets it fall back down and keeps his face turned towards me, eyes looking down and a smile on his face. This is it, I think. He's decided to aim high, and he's about to shoot. "Is this the latest you've stayed here?" "It is." "So, how do you like it?" A wild instinct drives me to start singing the "Moo, moo, moo! How do you like it? How do you like it?" song. He laughs, and uses it as an excuse to come even closer. I begin to feel nervous, and to plan about how to stop things should he dare to start them. Which leads into the question that I utter immediately after. "Are you, uh... Jonah, are you into me, by any chance?" His smile fades away, and he gets shy. "I mean," I continue, "are you trying to start anything with me?" "What makes you think that?" he mumbles. It seems like he's deflating all of a sudden. "I heard you talking to your mom about it a while ago." He gets red. "See... I don't want to make you feel bad," I say with a comforting chuckle. "I just... I wanna know." "Why do you wanna know?" he asks, staring at his feet. "Because... it's not such a good idea." "Not such a good idea." "No." "Okay." He shifts from being cross-legged into a kneeling position. "Not such a GOOD idea. You didn't say a BAD idea. Just not a very good one. That makes me assume stuff, Rob." "Okay, what does it make you assume?" "That you're not necessarily AGAINST letting something happen between us." I laugh. Now we're in a territory I didn't think we'd be going into: reasoning. And there I thought a simple no would do. "I'm your sister's tutor. And you're underage, and you're a..." "Okay, sush, sush," he says, his spark now rekindled. "Shut up, shut up. The first two things you said are `sister's tutor' and `age'. Both of those before the obvious one. Sorry, Rob... that says something." "And your mom might walk in at any time." "Again, see? Plenty of reasons... except the big one, the one that would be a dealbreaker." "And I'm also not into guys, Jonah. Sorry." He says nothing now, but his smile remains. "Rob... okay, you say you heard me talking to my mom about you," he says candidly. "That was what, a month ago. And just the other day you let me jump on you on the couch, you joked around with me, you let me touch your face... like this..." He grabs my cheeks playfully. I let him. I see what he's doing. I didn't know he had it in him. "You knew I was into you... and you let me do all this stuff. You probably enjoyed knowing that I liked you. And if I were to do something now... like this..." He slides his hand down my sweater and into my chest. I react, and he pulls it away with a chuckle. I have to raise my leg to hide my erection. "... something tells me that you wouldn't mind," he concludes. I stare at him, and he holds my gaze. I muster my last ounce of self-restraint and use it to lean within an inch from his face... "Sorry, Jonah. Not gonna happen." ... and to get up from the couch. A pair of arms wrap themselves around my neck and I hear a laugh behind me. I carry Jonah away from the couch and let his weight bring me down upon the rug. Or I pretend that it does. Because having him on top of me, with his breath on my ear, feels great. "You're not getting away, buster. I know I've got a shot." Does he? I ask myself the question. And the fact that it takes me a while to answer makes me scared. It's too much to bear. I'm not ready for this. I begin to get up. He realizes this and gets off from me. Once I'm on my feet, I'm forced to deal with this very awkward situation I've created for myself. Jonah's smile lingers, but it's a sad, embarrassed one. His courage has gone unrewarded because of me. "I'm sorry," I say. He nods. "You do what you can." The front door opens. His mom enters in a frenzied flurry of movement, her hands full with her bag, coat, wet umbrella and office folders. "Rob, honey, I'm so, so, so, so sorry, let's go, come on, I'll drive you home. I'm so sorry, baby, I made you stay until this hour, oh you must be so pissed..." She doesn't even look up at us. You'd think I'd be relieved that she didn't find me frolicking on the floor with her son, but I'm mostly distracted by the heavy feeling of having destroyed something. I go to the kitchen and put my damp clothes back on. When I come out, I hear Jonah telling her the time that Mindy went to bed, what she had to eat, et cetera. Joanna tells him she'll be right back and comes meet me at the door. Just before I step out under Joanna's umbrella, I wave him goodbye. He waves back. ... I wake up on this Saturday morning with a jolt. An uncomfortable feeling pokes at the back of my mind. It takes me a while to remember what I dreamt about, and when I do, I let out a groan. It's like the fourth time or so. For the past week, my subconscious has been pestering me with recreations of my "moment" with Jonah. It's been a turbulent couple of days, in which many of my notions about life, identity and sexuality have suffered major shifts. I've come to look back on that moment with a plethora of feelings that range from discomfort to arousal to regret and back again. And as I lay on my bed for several minutes, the feeling that seems to be assenting today is of the good kind. Or bad? However I want to call it, it's one that's making my penis throb pleasantly for minutes on end. I grab it and stroke it for a while just so I can push the urge aside for once and for all... but the good feelings don't come until I actually let the "moment" back into my mind. Jonah's arms around my neck, his weight and heat on me. His legs on each side of my back while the pleasant carpet smell invades my senses. It's hard to feel regret from having rejected him when just a few seconds later his mom came in. What would she have said if I'd given in? If she'd found us doing... I don't even know what. I've masturbated thinking of that moment several times over the past few days, but I've never let myself "finish" with that thought. Today, I do. The cum comes out with a little extra strength that normally, and the usual exhaustion that comes afterwards is of a different kind. More satisfied, perhaps? Whatever. What matters is that I can finally get up and start my day. My roommate's gone for the weekend. I don't have to cook breakfast for him today, so there's only me to worry about. I eat my eggs on the couch, enjoying the moment of calm that I know can't last, because in the afternoon I have to go to the phone company and pay my cell phone bill. I've been delaying it for as long as I could, but if I don't do it today, they're cutting my service starting Monday. What a fucking drag. At one o'clock, I'm still sitting in the couch. I've worked hard all week, damn it, and I'm entitled to enjoy my Saturday. Then two o'clock hits, then four, then five, and I'm still in my sweatpants watching Anime. If I don't take care of it today, tomorrow the place will be closed, and I'll regret it. I sigh, get up and take a quick shower. One hour later, I'm at the line for the ATM outside the phone company offices. Then my turn comes. I open my wallet... but the card is not there. Shit. I must have left it at home. Furious, wanting to punch someone – especially myself, for being so stupid – I step out of the line and let the couple behind me go ahead. They chuckle at me. I start on my way back to my apartment... and then a wave of memories comes rushing in. One week ago, while at the mall with Jonah and Mindy, I'd used my card to buy us popcorn and sodas before the movie. And for whatever reason, I just didn't put it back in my wallet. I stuck it in my other pocket. I remember because over the course of the day, whenever I stuck my hand in my pocket, I'd feel it there. Then when I had to take my wet clothes off at his house and stretch them over the back of the washing machine... Shit. Shit, shit, shit. ... I'm about to ring on his doorbell. Their doorbell. Hopefully, only Joanna is home. Her or Mindy. My doubts linger that my card is actually in my apartment, but I was closer to this house and this scenario was more likely, I have to pay that fucking bill by seven or screw up my entire morning schedule for Monday. And yet, I still don't want to ring. It's getting late, the sun has already set, and I'm still here wasting time. I ring the doorbell. And surely enough, it's Jonah who answers. He looks surprised. I smile. "Hi," he says. "Hi. I'm sorry to bother, Jonah, but I think I dropped my, uh... I think that the last time I was here, I left my card. My credit card. I need it to pay my phone bill, so... can I have it? Oh, first of all, I forgot to ask you, have you seen it? Ha ha..." "No, I haven't." "Can we, uh... can we look for it? Behind the washing machine, where we put my clothes to dry?" "Sure. Come on in." It isn't there. I feel so stupid I could cry. "Are you sure you didn't see it? Your mom or sister didn't see it? Can we call them perhaps, or when are they getting here?" "They're spending the night at my grandma's, they won't come home today." "Shit", I mumble to myself. "Shit, shit, shit. Fuck it all to hell." "But why do you need your card right now?" "Because that's where I get my money from, Jonah." "But can't you pay online?" I don't know how to do that," I admit. I've gotten lost on those fucking online payment sites so often that I never even consider it anymore. "I can tell you how, I do it all the time", he says. "It's, like... really easy. Do you remember your card number?" "I do. Are you sure? I don't want to impose... look, maybe you can tell me how to do it and I can try it at home, you probably have other stuff to do..." "I have nothing else to do, dingus. Stop being awkward and come here." He leads me to the computer, which they have plugged in just next to their living room window. It's already on, Jonah's been surfing on Facebook. He's got other tabs open, too. "I'm not being awkward, Jonah." "Yes you are. I came onto you the other day and you said no. It's not the end of the world." "Wow," I say, and that's exactly how I feel. He just kept further breaking that image of the shy kid I had him pegged for just one week ago. "Okay, you seem to be taking it really well." "Oh, yeah, because you broke my heart, Rob. Jeez, what an ego." "Oh, fuck you, I didn't mean it like that..." "Haha, I'm just messing with you. Here, type in your name and your card number." I do. "Hey, for what it's worth, the massage was good. You have a future." "I know", he says. "Okay, I've typed in the data, now what?" "Now we click on `Next step'. It really is that easy, you goof. Move into the digital age, why don't you." "Fuck you." "I asked you to, you said no, remember?" "Wow," I say again, genuinely taken aback. He just keeps disarming me time after time, doesn't he? "You are, uh... wow. I gotta give it to you, you're really good with rejection, I'll put it like that. I envy you." "It's easy. Because I know you did want me." Not for a second did I figure, while I was debating outside on whether to ting the doorbell or not, that just less than five minutes later I would be inside having this conversation with Jonah. "I didn't, Jonah. Like I said, I'm not into guys." "Well, neither was this guy at the beginning of the video". He clicks on one of the tabs he's surfing on and hits `Play'. It's hardcore gay porn. He laughs loudly at my expression. "Ew, what the hell. Just put that away." "Okay, okay. You prude. I just figured you could learn a move or two." "Jonah... are you REALLY doing this again?" "Doing what again? Coming onto you?" "Yeah. No means no, kid." "No means no until it means yes. I've seen it happen again and again. And believe me, if you let down your guard for just a minute, I guarantee you'd have fun." I hide it with a smile that's as smug as I can manage, but I would be lying if I said that from the second I stepped into the house, I wasn't invaded by the memories of my dream and my masturbating session from that morning... which had revolved around this very same person, in this very same living room. For the first time, I start thinking not about whether I should accept the offer or not... but about how. Deep inside, I want him to physically start advancing towards me, just so I can exercise the option of not moving away. "Fun..." I say. I want to keep the subject alive before he can change it. And since he doesn't say anything – he's handling the final steps my phone bill payment – I add, "Like the fun those guys are having?" "Just say the word, Rob," Jonah declares, his eyes on the screen. He has no idea that I'm actually considering it. I start to notice what he's wearing. Pajama shorts and a tight black t shirt. His short sleeves reach only up to his shoulders, leaving most of his pale thin arms uncovered. I'm too much of a coward. "Just say the word," he says, but I don't know what the "word" is. I leave it up to him. If he advances again, I won't stop him... or will I? What exactly am I feeling right now? What the fuck is happening with me? "Aaaand done. Your phone bill is paid, my friend." "Well, thank you." And in a sudden stroke of inspiration I add "How can I repay you?" He looks at me. It takes me some effort, but I hold his gaze. "I don't know," he shrugs. His attention drifts back to Facebook. Maybe the "No means no" message actually got to him. What have I done? Okay, here goes... here goes... here goes... But nothing comes out. It's a huge fucking leap, goddamnit, and the nerve just isn't there. All I have is an erect penis, two tons of arousal and nothing to do with it. Seconds pass. He's still looking at the computer, probably expecting me to leave. And that's what I'll do. "Okay, thanks a bunch, Jonah. I gotta run." I walk up to him to shake his hand, and what he does is hit click back on the porn video. I actually watch this time. It's a passionate, animalistic session of anal sex. "Wow. What exactly do you call that... move?" I ask stupidly. "'Anal sex' is a good term for it," Jonah says with a chuckle, probably expecting me to get grossed out again. I won't give him that. "Hm. Does it hurt?" "Not really. Once you get used to it." "And that's your case, I'm sure." "Not as much as you'd think." "Really?" "Yeah". His voice is starting to grow hushed, soft. "I'm more of an oral boy". "Really?" I repeat. "Yeah". I hold his gaze. I feel self-conscious like I haven't in ages. My heart is pounding. A smile etches itself in his lips. The full, soft-looking lips that I've noticed before. He licks them as he pushes his chair forwards towards me. His face comes up to my navel. I don't move an inch, and really, what better sign can he want? But it's enough. His fingers land on my belt and they stay there for a while. He's looking at my crotch, which now displays through my jeans a stifled erection that's beyond evident. "See?" he whispers. "`No' doesn't mean `No'." "Apparently not," I chuckle in a trembling tone. My belt comes loose with a pleasant, soothing metallic clink. Jonah stares at my throbbing dick for a second or two, then he wraps his lips around the tip as if he were kissing it. It's a moist, warm feeling that increases hundredfold when he plunges the whole thing into his mouth. My knees grow weak, I know I won't make it if I don't find some support. I lean my hand against the wall as he sucks forwards and backwards, forwards and backwards, over and over again. Through the window, I see an old woman walking by with a grocery bag. I noticed the windows on the way over, and they only allow a one-way view. Our intimacy is complete, indestructible, perfect. I hold his head and help him with the motions. I'm about to cum... and then he releases. "Wait. I wanna kiss you." He gets to his feet and does just that. He hops onto the chair and wraps his legs around me, his mouth firmly held against mine. He kisses my cheek, my ear, my neck. Then he lets his feet back on the ground, removes his t shirt and starts unbuttoning mine. He's panting, out of breath... and happy. "I wanna try that," I say. He looks back at the computer, where the porn video still plays. He gazes up at me with a grin. "I knew that would work," he says. "I just knew it." "Shut up," I laugh as I watch him lick my nipples. His mouth moves all over my chest, leaving a wet trail of gleaming saliva. I get rid of my shoes, pants and socks. Here I am, completely nude on the spot where I've dictated dozens of classes to his little sister while he surfed the web in the corner or watched TV with his earphones on. But there's no sister nor mom right now; no one to bother us while I watch him lean over the arm of the couch and devilishly slide down his shorts. He waits impatiently for me to put on my condom – my cock is still wet from his mouth – and takes a deep breath as I enter him. It's easier than I thought. He groans somewhat. "Does it hurt?" "No," he says. "Just fuck me. Just go for it." I gasp as I start moving back and forth, my hands on his buttocks. "You know, I wanted you from the second... from the second you said your first joke to Mindy," he says breathlessly. "And what was that?" I ask. "It was a knock knock joke... you were trying to break the ice, it was so lame..." "But you loved it?" "I loved it... god, I just thought you were sexy as fuck right there and then..." He leans backwards, grabs my head and moves my lips to his. I cease my motion so I can kiss him. A good, long, wet kiss that leaves us tasting the full flavor of each other's mouths. Then I just keep going, drawing an ever stronger "slap, slap, slap" from his butt against my groin. I lean down towards his neck and bite a good chunk of his shoulder. "It hurts to admit," I say, "but I thought the same." I'm thinking of the moments when, while trying to pump some German into Mindy, I would glance sideways at Jonah's stretched legs over the table or the couch cushions, where sometimes his shorts would allow a peek at the thicker portion of his white thighs; or how his eyes would become beautiful slits whenever he laughed hard at something; or even the way his breath would pleasantly warm up my face whenever he talked near me, which was always much closer than suitable. I realize that the seeds for this moment had been there from the beginning. No matter how this turns out in the long run, I'm glad this is happening. It feels like it was meant to. Jonah climbs into the couch and I move in after him. Now we're both kneeling on the cushions, and he's bending over the opposite arm rest, giving me his ass at a perfect 45 degree angle. I take advantage of the more comfortable position and thrust until my hips and legs scream in pain... but it doesn't matter, because I'm close to finishing. It doesn't matter, because the tight feeling of my cock inside his body while his warm, sweaty skin melds itself into mine is the definition of heaven. Because his unbridled moans, making full use of the privilege of having the house to ourselves, are the best soundtrack a lovemaking session could hope for. My orgasm is tremendous, electric. I feel my cum spill around my own penis inside my condom. I take hold of Jonah's jaw and stick my fingers inside his mouth. He moans into my hand as he reaches his own climax and his cum bombards the white armrest. Even some ten seconds after I'm done moaning and grunting, I keep slowly thrusting into him, wanting to get it all out. We stay that way for a while, me on top of him, both of us gasping for air. I'm kissing his back almost unconsciously. A few minutes later, we're stretched alongside each other in the couch, still breathing heavily, bathed in the cozy golden glow of the lamp on the corner, the only one that's lit. My full condom hangs from my relaxed cock, the semen inside it growing colder by the second. "Hold on," Jonah says. He gets up and moves the vase on the living room table and the little mantle underneath it. There it is: my credit card. He looks at me while, with a sexy, fluid motion he shakes his hair from his eyes. "Sorry for the trouble. Here you go."