Date: Fri, 6 Jan 2023 20:24:22 +0000 From: will Subject: Summer School Librarian - The Whole Story This story, depicting sex between a fifteen-year-old male and an older man, is fiction and completely a product of my imagination. The author retains all rights to this work. If you enjoy it, please write to me at the email provided. This is a work of fiction that builds on another work of fiction. Note: This is a follow on story to "Summer School Librarian" which concluded as follows: _______________________________________________________________________________ "It sounds great Mr. Barton but I don't think I can come over. I don't really want to lie to my parents." It was the best excuse I could come up with for getting out of it without admitting my unease. After that, our chats became less frequent. The summer session ended and I went back to Braxton. Each time I saw Mr. Garrett I thought of Mr. Barton. I wondered if they talked to each other about me. In time, it all faded away. The amazing thing is, 50 years later I remember those chats. Now I know what a daisy chain is. I remember my unease at the time. But most of all, I wonder about how things would have been different if I had gone over for lunch and a massage at Mr Barton's house. _______________________________________________________________________________ Summer School Librarian: The Whole Story My previous story, "Summer School Librarian", didn't tell the whole story. Now I plan to share it with you. Chapter 1 - The first short visit to Mr. Barton's house "It sounds great Mr. Barton but I don't think I can come over. I don't really want to lie to my parents." It was the best excuse I could come up with for getting out of it without admitting my unease. But Mr, Barton was insistent as he must of sensed my mixed feelings of curiosity and fear. What I didn't realize was that he was an expert at manipulating that mixture. "I understand," he said. "I respect your sense of honesty and certainly wouldn't want to encourage you to be dishonest. But maybe there is another way. Maybe we can find a way so that you wouldn't have to lie to your parents." As he was talking, I was both dismayed that I he hadn't just given up after I tried to get out of it, and hopeful that Mr.Barton might just find a way for us to visit. I kept quiet and let him brainstorm. "I've got it!" he cried out, too loudly for the library really, but we were the only ones in there at the time so no harm done. "We'll just use this time between your classes to make a short visit so you might feel more relaxed about coming over to my place. If it works out, we will find some way to make a longer visit. What do you say?" His enthusiasm was sort of overwhelming and I really had no good comeback and my curiosity was getting the better of my fear. I felt okay about trying such a "short visit". After all, we had developed some sort of relationship over these few weeks and he had always been nice and friendly to me. He said his house was just a five minute drive from school so a visit between classes would give us about half an hour at his house. What was I so afraid about anyway? I suppose the one thing that was holding me back was the sense of strangeness about Mr. Barton (like Mr. Garrett) but that was outweighed by my curiosity about his place, his massages, and the idea of talking about the the kinds of things we couldn't talk about in the library. With all this swirling in my brain I finally just decided to do it. I agreed to go along with his plan. "You know Mr. Barton, that sounds like a great idea. Let's do it! I'd love to be able to talk more openly about the things we've touched on but couldn't really discuss here in school. I'm in!" Mr. Barton's reaction surprised the hell out of me. He grabbed me by the scruff of the neck, not roughly but quite deliberately, beamed a happy smile, and said, "Good boy!". "How does tomorrow sound?" he asked. "Sounds good to me," I replied. "Then tomorrow it is! To save time, let's meet in the teacher's parking area after your first class. That way, you won't have to walk all the way down to the library. I'll pull up and pick you up just outside the exit doors." The plan was set. There was no turning back. That night there were so many thoughts racing through my mind as I tried to go to sleep. I knew that I was stepping out on a limb. I was doing something I wouldn't tell anyone about. Not my friends (for whom "strangeness" meant avoidance at all costs), not my parents (although that was not an issue except for getting caught going off somewhere when they thought I was at school), and certainly not my girlfriend (who was completely unaware of my conversations with the librarian). But maybe most of all it was myself I couldn't tell. I didn't know what to tell myself about my going to this man's house on his invitation. I didn't know much about the world but I knew that there was something "not quite right" about what I was doing. I just didn't know enough to know what "not quite right" meant or implied. Basically, the fear crept back in front and made me wonder if I should just call it all off. But how could I? There was an adult man who was expecting me at the doorway to the parking lot where he would be waiting to pick me up. What would he do if I didn't show up? How might he get back at me? Especially when there was no one I could talk to about what I was doing. Yeah, I was working myself into a frenzy. But then another thing came to mind. Might it not be exciting to do something that was forbidden enough that I couldn't talk about it to anyone? Hadn't I gotten to know Mr. Barton well enough to know that I wasn't really in any danger? And besides, if anything did happen that was too strange for me, how strange could it be in only half an hour? And furthermore, might it not be very interesting to finally find out about what the mysterious "daisy chain" was all about? These thoughts countered the fears and lifted me off to dreamland. The alarm woke me suddenly and in the routine of the morning it didn't hit me for about ten minutes why this day was bound to be out of the ordinary. When it did, I felt a calmness. As if the thoughts before sleep had percolated through my sleep and left me feeling much more curious than fearful about the day's adventure. I felt just that, adventurous, about the day. One thing for certain though, I didn't learn much Spanish in the early class. My mind was consumed with contemplating the upcoming interval between classes. I really had no idea what might happen. I was leaving it all up to Mr. Barton. In a way, I was feeling very differently. My usual 15 year old bravado, machismo, defiance was sort of absent. I was feeling a softer, more compliant side of myself. As though Mr. Barton was in charge in a way I would usually resist with the authority figures in my life. It was at once a strange and natural feeling. Strange because I had not really noticed it in myself before (maybe since being very little) but natural in the sense that I felt a relaxation, a calmness, and an excitement that felt new. When the bell rang to end class, I walked to the exit almost in a trance. I was full of anticipation, curiosity, some trepidation I suppose, and excitement for the unknown hour ahead. When I opened the exit doors, Mr. Barton was right ahead with his car running. He signaled me over and I hopped in the bucket seat of his flashy red sports car. Already this was a special trip. I had never ridden in such a sporty car. It felt pretty special and Mr. Barton seemed special in a new way to me. He had this cool car! What might his house be like? Well, in five minutes I found out. It was such a cool house. Not in a flashy way, more in an old fashioned way. Only five minutes from the school, the house was on a large property and had the look of an updated old farmhouse on a property now covered by an orchard. It was a strange mix of old and new. The furniture all seemed expensive but rustic. Hard for a fifteen year old to describe but looking back it must have been an old place that he fixed up to fit his comfort needs. We went through he entryway into the main living room off of which were several rooms including a sunporch which also served as his massage area. There was a sheet-draped table in the center with a large floor to near ceiling shelf nearby that was filled with lotions, candles, towels, masks....all the accoutrements of massage. Mr. Barton din't mention the massage room. Rather, he invited me into the kitchen. We sat on neighboring high stools at the breakfast bar which had a row of four. He poured each of us a drink from a juice pitcher he took from the refrigerator. I wasn't sure what kind of juice it was but it was refreshing on a hot morning. As we sat there on the stools, I couldn't help but think again about his habit of standing (now sitting) just a bit closer than normal social distance. In fact, with our feet resting on the rungs of the stool, our knees were close enough to accidentally bump when we swiveled in our chairs. I didn't think it was a big deal, but I did notice. Mr. Barton led the conversation. "So Ethan, here we are at last. It feels great to have you here after all those conversations in the library. Here we can relax and be ourselves." "You're right Mr. Barton." "Please!" he interrupted me, "here, I only go by John." "Oh, okay then, John, you're right, it does feel more relaxed outside of the library. At least we can talk out loud," I joked. "Exactly, out loud and freely!" he agreed. "Although we don't have much time today, I was thinking we could take care of one matter that has remained unsettled since one of our early conversations." I sort of knew what was coming but I kept quiet and let him lead. "I hope it's not a matter that will make you uneasy but it is what it is and I promised you I'd tell you about it. Do you remember when I told you about my weekend in New York City?" "I sure do. I've been wondering ever since about what the heck a daisy chain is. I looked it up in the dictionary but that didn't help. It just described some kind of flower chain. But when you talked about it, it seemed to be something you all did in that apartment you were sharing with all your friends." "You're very perceptive Ethan. It was something that went on with some of the guys that weekend but I never said I was part of the activity. I want you to feel comfortable around me Ethan and not afraid in any way. On the other hand I did promise to tell you what it was. After all, you're a young adult now and you will be hearing about a lot of things that some people do that you might never have heard of or thought of before. And you will be learning about people who like to do things that others have no interest in. Or at least no interest until they try. Anyway, rather than beat around the bush, let me use this visit to fill you in on what a daisy chain is." I was hungry with curiosity. On the one hand I had no idea where this conversation was about to go. On still another hand, I was dying to find out. I was all ears. "So, Ethan, some of the guys at the apartment that weekend were into guys. Do you know what I mean?" "Uh, well, not really John." "Well, let's just say they enjoyed the freedom of being in a place with just guys." "Oh, I get that. Me and my friends often like to have fun on our own without our girls around." "Yeah, it's pretty natural," said Mr. Barton So at this point I was wondering. Mr. Barton was saying the daisy chain involved guys enjoying being with each other but this seemed natural to me. So what was so secret? I sensed something sexual might be involved. My hardening cock was proof that my curiosity was also growing. I kept quiet and hoped my boner went unnoticed in my jeans. Mr. Barton continued on. "So as I told you, we did a lot of drinking that weekend. At some point, one of the guys, who was lounging on the carpet in the living area with several others, leaned his head down on the lap of the guy next to him. Music was playing and everyone had a buzz. When he rested his head on the guy's lap, that guy, in turn, did the same to the guy next to him. This led to a chain reaction and soon the guys on the floor, each with his head resting on the lap of the next until it circled around to the first guy, formed a chain around the floor." "So that's a daisy chain? That's not as shocking as I was expecting. I've done that myself with friends at sleepovers. Well not in a chain but just between a few friends watching a movie or something." "Almost Ethan. That's almost what a daisy chain is. And I'm not sure we have time to go into more details today. Maybe I can tell you the rest on another visit?" "Aw, c'mon John. We've got a few more minutes today. Just tell me the rest so I don't have to be wondering again. I mean what more could there be?" "You're right Ethan. I'm being overly protective. You're old enough to know what goes on in the world. I just don't want my telling you to have any adverse effect on our relationship." Did he say relationship? That surprised me. But then again it can be a generic term I thought. Anyway, I just wanted to know the rest of the story. "No worries, John. I trust you. Nothing you tell me about the world is going to scare me away from you." "Okay. Ethan. So, do you know what a blowjob is?" "I've heard guys say it, but honestly, no, I don't know what it is." "How about a french kiss? Do you know what that is?" "Isn't that when you open your mouths while you're kissing and let your tongues touch?" "That's exactly right, Ethan. The tongues sort of dance with each other. Well, a blowjob is like someone giving a french kiss to someone's cock. They open their mouth and instead of their tongue dancing with another tongue it dances with the cock of another person. Since you didn't know what it was, you don't know how awesome it feels to either give or receive one, but believe me, it is one of the great pleasures of life. One great thing about blowjobs is that they are just as popular and pleasurable between men and women as between men and men. The only downside with women is that the act is a one way street. Of course there are related pleasures for women but that's a topic for another day. So, what makes a daisy chain is that rather than simply resting their heads on the laps of their neighbors, the men remove their pants and sort of french kiss their neighbor's cock. I am sure you know about masturbation. The daisy chain is a chain of men simultaneously masturbating their neighbors with their mouths instead of their hands while being so masturbated by the person on their other side. The royal flush of daisy chains is when the masturbation of all culminates in a grand simultaneous orgasm, sharing cum, one to the next to the next, around the chain." This boggled my mind. I was blown away! The world I knew had been forever transformed. A door opened and there was another world, a much bigger world, on the other side. My thoughts were spinning. My cock was straining against the material of my jeans and leaking profusely. I must have been flushed. What could I say? How was I to act in front of Mr. Barton. When I looked up at him, I noticed that he was looking down at my lap. I interpreted it innocently, sort of. He didn't say or do anything. He just remained quiet, awaiting my response. I decided to play it as cool as I knew how. "Holy shit! I can see why we couldn't talk about that in the library. I really appreciate you being straight with me and telling me about something I had no idea existed. It seems you were spending time with a wild bunch." In fact, Mr. Barton jumped to another level of cool to me in that he was so accepting and open-minded about his friends' behavior, not to mention his openness in talking to me about those things so matter-of-factly. I felt both a sexual excitement and a feeling of being grown up in his company. "Well, Ethan, I hope you can just file it away as new information about the world. Like I said before, these are all really nice guys and for them it's done all in fun and male bonding. No one gets hurt. Everyone goes home happy. There are sure a lot of things that happen in the world that you can't say that about, right?" "You're right John. No one gets hurt. Everyone partakes willingly. It's just something I would never have thought of. Thanks again for not treating me like a kid who can't hear about things." "I'm so glad we got that matter settled. Things always seem bigger than they are until you shine the light on them. For now, we need to get back before you're late for class. Let's go!" We headed back to school in a bit of a rush. There wasn't much chance to talk but one thing we agreed on was that the time went by too fast and there was so much more to talk about. Since I was feeling so good about how it all went, I agreed to do it again the next day. The great thing was, nobody had to know where we were because the visit fit so nicely into our schedule just as our private visits in the library had done. Chapter 2 - An afternoon at the pool with my friends After school, a plan developed to join with some of my friends at the neighborhood pool. It was hot and muggy and the pool offered some relief. We were to meet up at 2:00. The events of the morning were like remembered dream fragments in my head. Riding in the fancy red sports car. Seeing Mr. Barton as suddenly bigger than life outside of the library. His impressive house. How does a guy get such a great place to live and fix it up just the way he likes? Is there that much money to be made as a school librarian? I had no idea how he did it but I was impressed. I felt like he was in charge and I really didn't feel any resistance within myself. Normally I was a resister but not in these circumstances. I was so impressed by his car, his house, his open-mindedness regarding his friends and the way he treated me - as older than most adults treated me. But dreamlike fragments they were and now I let them float away as I went to meet my friends. It was like two worlds; a dream world where all was cool and the real world with all its conflicts and competitions - two very separate worlds. We met at the corner store where we picked up some drinks and snacks to take to the pool. We put our treats in lockers and changed into our bathing suits. This was something we'd done a million times before but today it felt to me like I was watching a slow-motion movie of the locker room. I was fixating on things I'd hardly noticed before. Watching my friends interacting with each other while they changed I noticed differences in how they acted towards each other. Danny and Jake seemed shy and undressed as if they were embarrassed to be seen naked. Brian and Peter were over-the-top show offs who paraded their stuff as if begging to be noticed. I was in my own world going through the motions neither hurrying to cover myself nor parading my stuff. Teddy also seemed a little off in his own world but quietly so, more keen on taking in the others with his eyes. I glanced at him at one point and the look he gave me had an odd aspect of a secret connection. This was all a jumble in my head, noticing my friends in a way I'd never done before. soon enough we were all changed into our suits, showered and ready to hit the pool area. It wasn't all that crowded yet, the bigger crowds gathered later in the afternoon, so we had the deep end mostly to ourselves. We played some Marco Polo which involved a lot of grabbing and pushing. Again I was noticing differences in my friends; some more reserved, some more boisterous and energetic. Brian especially seemed to be roughhousing in a very physical way making all kinds of contact with all of us. At one point he suggested we grab butts to tag. No one challenged him. When Brian was Marco he seemed to delight in his new rule. He went overboard with Teddy reaching inside his suit and grabbing his bare ass with uproarious laughter. Teddy didn't complain outwardly. As the game went on I found myself analyzing my friends' actions and reactions. I think that my transformed world was affecting my real world. The very idea that male intimacy was a real thing sort of heightened my awareness of signs of such intimacy everywhere I looked. I never thought in terms of any of my friends being gay, it was just that I was noticing things I never noticed before. The game went on until we were too tired to swim. Afterwards, we went back to the locker room to get our snacks. Back in the locker room we sat on the benches in front of the lockers and enjoyed our snacks. Brian, always the exhibitionist, suggested we all get naked "just for fun". Again, no one challenged him. It was obvious that some were very reluctant to go along, but by their very nature they were not going to challenge Brian, so everyone went along, with enthusiasm or not. For me it was no big deal getting naked. We had changed in front of each other many times and seen each other's dicks and asses - the only part our suits didn't reveal anyway. For some it was harder, especially Danny and Jake. But the power of the gang was greater than individual resistance so there we were, sitting naked on the benches enjoying our snacks. I couldn't help but start thinking about the daisy chain. Not that I was into it, just that some guys in situations like this would be so inclined. I wondered if I should tell them about my new-found information but worried about having to spill my source so I kept it to myself. Meanwhile, Peter and Brian, as usual, took to strutting around and talking up the nakedness of the others. Peter suggested comparing dicks and I could see the mortification in the eyes of Danny and Jake as well as the curiosity in the eyes of Teddy. I felt like I was floating over the group, participating but as if from afar, feeling more the observer than a regular participant. Still, I was part of the group, going along with the suggestions of the alphas. We gathered into a circle and stuck out our stuff. It was all done in the spirit of play but play for some seemed like torture for others. Brian challenged the group to show off the biggest cock. He suggested we all get ourselves hard in order to measure. No one challenged him. Instead, however bashful or worse, everyone started rubbing themselves to get hard. It didn't take long and when it happened it seemed our cocks took over control from our brains. As tortuous as it might have seemed for some, now everyone seemed to be into the show. Lots more bravado filled the room as some of the most reserved suddenly moved into prominence with their surprisingly large erect cocks. Especially Teddy and Jake. Once fully present, they dominated the contest and found a new air of confidence within the group. If this was Brian's test of superiority, they were clearly the winners. That is not to say that we others were far behind. As a group we showed some impressive meat and the tensions seemed to float away. It was a much more all-for-one one-for-all atmosphere as we wagged our dicks around in fun. I took the whole scene to be a natural male bonding around their unspoken but clearly demonstrated focus of attention - their cocks. I thought to myself, maybe regular guys can enjoy playing around with their dicks. Maybe that is why Mr. Barton could enjoy the camaraderie with his friends even if he didn't get involved sexually with them. There was so much I didn't know about. As for our locker room shenanigans, it was fun for me to be a part of it. I might have been much more reserved if I hadn't learned about the bigger world that very morning. Now that I knew there was more to it all than I had thought, it seemed fascinating to be part of that world, even if only in silly locker room games. It also made me wonder how much the other guys knew about that bigger world. Had someone told them about it privately and they, like me, felt too shy to talk about it with each other. Heck, I couldn't be the only one, could I? Who knows where our fun would have led us if we had been in a private apartment in New York City. Maybe the daisy chain was just something that happened like our locker room romp? But Mr. Barton had talked about blowjobs and that seemed like something well beyond our group. The privacy of the locker room was disrupted and we all acted as though we were in the middle of changing back into our street clothes. We left without saying much about our romp but one thing for sure, we all had a much better idea about our respective cock sizes and all that entails. The rest of the day was pretty boring and by the time I went to bed I was both tired and filled with impressions from the day. Trying to make sense of it all was not so easy: the thrill of going to Mr. Barton's house with him, the story of the daisy chain, the way Mr. Barton sort of transformed into a figure I looked up to and wanted to be liked by, the whole idea of male intimacy, the way Mr. Barton seemed so comfortable with it, the way it seemed natural with my friends and how that made me better understand how and why Mr. Barton could be comfortable with it, the whole spectrum of male intimacy that existed as I witnessed in my friends with my new eyes. Yeah, it was a day in which I really thought a lot about what being a guy was all about. My worrier self began to wonder if I had slipped a little too far into guy-dom. I had never really thought so much about male intimacy before. For one thing it always seemed like something you could be ostracized for talking about and also, it had never really been an issue in my world. With a new world opened to me, and Mr. Barton's acceptance of that world, I was feeling drawn into it. But maybe too much so? It was still taboo to talk about these things with my friends and in that taboo there was the worry that it was shameful or bad. I felt split in two. I wanted to be like Mr. Barton but I could only openly be that way around him. What a day! One thing for sure is that I was looking forward to my visit the next day. Chapter 3 - The second short visit to Mr. Barton's house and a plan for longer visits The next day after class I rushed to the teacher's parking lot to see Mr. Barton. He seemed really happy to see me and expressed it, when I plopped down in the deep bucket seat, by a firm welcoming grip on my left knee. It felt very natural to me and in it I felt his strength. He asked me about my day after leaving his house. I have to say he seemed to want to hear all the details of my afternoon at the pool. I had thought of glossing over some of the details but as I talked about some of my feelings and impressions in observing my friends he seemed to want to hear more and more. Who won the contest? How did I compare? Was it fun to see everyone hard? I took it as a sign of his interest in me and my life which I took as a complement. It made me feel he actually cared about what I was thinking, feeling and experiencing. No one had ever shown me that kind of attention. It made him seem like a sort of a friend in authority at some level. I was sure he had much more to teach me about the world and his willingness to do so made me feel both grown up and inexperienced at the same time. But if he was willing to broaden my experience, what more could I hope for. His being an adult gave him instant authority in my mind, but what was different is that he made it easy for me to accept his position of authority because he wielded it gently. Once we got to his house, again for a short though much anticipated visit, he suggested a tour of the house which I happily agreed to. We went from room to room and he pointed out particulars in each room that made it special. I loved the time and attention he was giving me. What other adult would take the time with a guy like me to share his private world? We talked about nothing the whole time and too quickly the visit was almost over. He did save the sunroom for last and while he was showing me all the lotions and candles and supplies he described the massage process and how he acquired his expertise through intense training. At the end of the tour, he suggested that someday he would love to share his expertise on me. "I know it would be a first time for you, Ethan, but I have given hundreds of massages so you should know that it is very common and from all my feedback, deeply comforting." "I have no doubt, John. If there was a way for us to find the time, I would love to have a massage. I just don't know how we might arrange it." "I was thinking about that Ethan, and I might have a way. One thing you don't know about me is that I am pretty fluent in Spanish. I was thinking that you might tell your parents that you had met a teacher between classes and had been discussing your Spanish progress with him. You could say that he offered to give you listening and speaking tutoring lessons on the weekend as he is preparing some teaching materials and needs to test them out while at the same time helping you practice your skills. Sort of a benefits to both parties so no fee would be required. That way, we could plan a schedule of days and it would only require our spending part of those days practicing Spanish so that you could demonstrate some progress. What do you think?" "What a great idea!", I said before thinking about it. "It has everything we need. A plan that helps me with my Spanish and allows us more time together! It's great!" I could see his face light up. There were still several weekends left in the term and this would give us so much more time. Wait! What was I thinking? Why was I so excited? It was true, I was, but what was happening? I was getting super excited about spending time with Mr. Barton. He was suddenly some important person for me to be around. Yeah, I felt special in his presence, but it was also a secret kind of special. Something I couldn't talk about to my friends and not completely with my parents. Yeah, it was a secret special. But then what's' wrong with that? Why shouldn't I have a secret special relationship with someone. None of those people I'm hiding it from offer me the attention and guidance that Mr. Barton does. None of them spend time talking to me the way he does. Sharing things he knows with me, without filters of "what's appropriate" like parents and other adults do. And even my friends, like me, don't share certain things we know or do with each other. Finally I have met someone who is open with me and doesn't treat me like someone who wouldn't understand things that I do understand. "Yes, I think it can work out too, Ethan. I gave it a lot of thought. We will have to include some tutoring but you're a smart kid so it will only take up a fraction of our time. In fact, let's agree to always spend the first hour on intensive Spanish lessons so we can have the rest of the time free to be. Okay?" "Sounds perfect,John." Chapter 4 - The first longer visit to Mr. Barton's house - setting up the wrestling match I woke up on our first Saturday of tutoring full of excitement. I showered and ate a quick breakfast. We had promptly put the plan into action and my parents were fully supportive of my getting the extra tutoring, and for free at that! I arranged to ride my bike saying my tutor would be picking me up and dropping me off from school. That way, I didn't' have to get into sharing his address. I must admit I did tell a white lie by changing the tutor's name to Mr. Lopez. I gave them Mr. Barton's phone number in case of emergency knowing it would never get used. Parents can be hovering when you are around them but seem to forget you once you're out of the house.....as long as you get back at the appointed time. We did have two more short visits at Mr. Barton's house before today. The first day we mostly walked around his orchard and talked more about my friends and that day at the pool. He seemed very interested to hear my impressions of my friends especially when I brought up my musings on male intimacy. We talked about regular intimacy vs. sexual intimacy which was interesting to me with respect to the daisy chain. On the last visit before today he showed me his exercise room in the basement which we had not visited on the original house tour. He even had a sauna room and a whirlpool and double stand-in shower down there. We talked more about intimacy and how the line was so fuzzy between sexuality and just bonding physically. I loved our discussions. They felt so grownup and I really appreciated Mr. Barton giving me so much attention and sharing with me his experiences and knowledge. Anyway, this was the first "tutoring day" and the plan was for him to pick me up at 9:00 at the school. Everyone was busy at my house and the plan was hardly discussed. I told my Mom I'd be back at 2:30 and she just wished me a good day with Mr. Lopez. I rode to the school wearing light summer shorts, a tee shirt, sneakers and my cap. I felt free to be me. I actually rode straight to Mr. Barton's house. It only took me about ten minutes as I rode hard in the morning heat. When I got there I was pretty sweaty. Mr. Barton noticed right away and asked if I'd like to shower to cool off. I told him it probably wouldn't help because my clothes were sort of soaked too. He suggested something that made perfect sense to me. I could wear something of his after the shower while he put my clothes through the wash. "Okay. Sounds like a plan!." "It will only take an hour or so to run your clothes through the wash. We can concentrate on your Spanish lesson during that time and then your clothes should be ready. I'll give you a robe in the meantime. You can use the shower in my room as it has all the soaps and shampoos and towels you'll need all ready to go." "Sounds good. I'll leave my clothes just outside the door while I shower if that's convenient for you." "That's fine. Don't make it too long...we've got work to do while the clothes get freshened up!" "I'll be quick," I said. So off to the shower. Again I was amazed by Mr. Barton's stuff. The bathroom smelled like a man's cologne. The shower was a walk-in with beautiful tile walls and floor. His shampoos and soaps were a far cry from the bargain basics I was used to at home. Each had a manly scent and even the shapes and textures were in a new league from what I knew. I knew I shouldn't dawdle so I took care of my business taking care to clean myself up well. I had shampooed earlier but I really wanted to try his so I did it again. The aroma was distinctive, I realized that I smelled like him now. "A bit of male intimacy", I thought. When I got out of the shower, I noticed a white plush robe hanging on the hook of the door. Mr. Barton must have put it there while I was showering. He was so thoughtful. As I left the bathroom I noticed my sweaty clothes had been removed. I was a little embarrassed to be naked under the robe but it was so soft and plush on my skin it was actually kind of a joy to feel it on my body. I guess I just had to be careful not to tent it up, ha-ha. I went downstairs like that and found Mr. Barton in the kitchen. He had a tape recorder and some tapes set up on the counter with the stools drawn up close to the breakfast bar. Spanish lessons are Spanish lessons. Mr. Barton knew his stuff and I wanted to impress him so I tried harder than I ever had before to show him I could grasp what he was telling me. As usual, he was supportive and encouraging. I had the feeling that this plan was really going to be of benefit to me. One more star for Mr. Barton! After the lesson we were free and had the luxury of time for the first time ever. We didn't have to look at the clock for several hours. How special was that!? We closed up the study station and Mr. Barton checked on the laundry. It wasn't quite done. He asked me what I wanted to do to start our special day. I told him there was something I would like to discuss a little more with him. "Sure, Ethan. Anything topic you'd like," he said encouragingly. "Well, it's an old topic of ours but I have some more questions. You know how we were discussing the "fuzzy line" between regular male bonding intimacy and sexual intimacy?" "Of course. What's on your mind, Ethan?" "Well, it's kind of hard to put into words. I was wondering about the difference between physical intimacy and sexual intimacy. Is there a difference? Like when guys wrestle. They are physically intimate but not sexually intimate. Right? Or when guys are fooling around in the locker room. That's physical but is it sexual? Could the same act be physical for some but sexual for others?" "Wow, that's a lot to unpack," said Mr. Barton. "Where do we start? Maybe it would be best to talk in concrete terms rather than theoretical ones. Let's start with something you've already done. Did the locker room romp seem sexual to you?" "I don't really know. I mean we did get ourselves sexually aroused, individually, but we didn't really do anything between each other." "Let me ask you this. Do you consider masturbation to be sexual?" "Yes, I think of that as sexual. But it's with yourself. So maybe I'm differentiating sexual intimacy with yourself versus sexual intimacy with someone else. Does that make sense?" "It makes perfect sense to me, Ethan. Okay, so when you stimulated yourselves in the locker room you would consider that as a sort of sexual intimacy with yourself but not with others?" "Yeah, I think of it as different like you said. I mean the air of the room was more non-sexual bonding through self-sexual stimulation. Is that sensible?" "To tell you the truth, Ethan, it all seems a bit like splitting hairs. Why is it so important to differentiate? Why not just open yourself up to the continuum where all intimacy is just that, "intimacy", with no arbitrary borders set up around one type and another?" "Oh, John. Once again you seem to have the power to resolve issues by looking at a bigger picture than I am capable of. But once you do, I can see exactly what you mean. That's what I admire so much about you. At the same time, I think there is something that was making me try to differentiate and it's a little hard for me to talk about it." "Hopefully by now you know that you can raise anything with me and I will be non-judgmental about it." "I do know that and it's something I love about you. So, I have an idea you might think is weird. I'm really not trying to change the subject. Really I want to explore the subject in a different way." "What are you thinking about, Ethan?" "Well, I was thinking maybe rather than just discussing this in words, we might try to do an experiment I dreamed up to understand the difference between physical and sexual intimacy, if such a difference exists." "I'm open to your experiment. Tell me what you're thinking." "Well, you know how I brought up wrestling a little while ago?" "Yeah, sure, I remember." "Well, I was thinking maybe we could wrestle a little on your mat downstairs. I mean, I know it's kind of weird to just start wrestling out of the blue but I was thinking of it as a way to engage in physical contact as opposed to sexual contact. I mean the wrestlers I have watched seem to get pretty intimately entangled all the time, right? But then again, maybe there is more to it than I ever realized. I don't know. But I also don't know anyone else I would feel safe asking to do this experiment with me. Maybe we can prove that there is a difference between physical and sexual intimacy." "I see what you are getting act, Ethan, but it still seems to me you are little bit stuck on establishing a difference. For example, what if we went ahead and tried this wrestling experiment and in the midst of it one or both of us get hard? What would that mean to you? Would it be a sign of a sexual intimacy shared or would we just chalk it up to our individual bodies responding to physical stimulation separately but not together? Do you see what I'm getting at when I talk about a continuum that has a life of its own? On one end of the spectrum there's a pat on the back. On the other there is an active attempt to make someone reach orgasm. In between lie many things. Where does wrestling fit on the spectrum? I don't know. Maybe it depends on the wrestlers and the circumstances. I don't know." "I do. I really do get what you mean about the continuum. I still have questions but this talking is not helping at the moment. I feel like we need to collect some data. Maybe if we just wrestle and see what happens then our conversation afterwards would be guided by the experience we had during the experiment." "I have to say, Ethan, you seem wise beyond your years and beyond your direct experience. I have no counterargument to yours. How better to delve into a topic than by first immersing yourself in first hand experience. I'm game. I would only caution that others might not understand our experimenting like this so we should keep it between ourselves. Agreed?" "Absolutely agreed. In fact that is why I brought it up with you. There is no one else I know I could discuss any of these things with. You have given me the confidence to raise it with you so easily but I can't imagine raising it with anyone else. I sort of feel like these are special days where I can learn from you. Like you are my life teacher and I want to learn everything possible in our limited times together." "I appreciate your kind words very much, Ethan. And I will do everything I can to live up to the trust and faith you have in me. So let's go ahead and run the experiment. What do you say?" "I'm all in, Mr, Barton, I mean, John. No time like the present." Chapter 5 - The wrestling match We went downstairs. Me in his white robe, he in his sweats. He was a little heavier than me but not so much that it made a wrestling match impossible. Anyway, it wasn't about winning, it was about experimenting. We went past the laundry room and heard the dryer still running with my clothes. Mr. Barton said there was no problem with clothes because he had gym clothes in the exercise room. Sure enough, just like in the massage room, he had a closet full of all the gym clothes, towels and bathing needs one could imagine needing in this incredible exercise spa complex. He brought out two pairs of close fitting knitted gym shorts figuring I was close enough in size to wear them. "I can't wrestle in these sweats and you certainly can't wrestle in that robe. Let's change into these." He didn't think twice about dropping his sweats right there in front of me standing there completely naked not three feet away and with a cheery smile on his face. I was less bold but I wasn't going to resist his invitation so I dropped the robe and smiled back. It was a bit strange but also comforting to feel so free in his presence. I felt no embarrassment really. Just two guys who had discussed way more than this openly with each other. Then again, he was a man. I couldn't help noticing his cock as I am sure he noticed mine. It's hard not to when you're standing alone in a room a few feet away from each other. It was different from sleepover over pool shower peeks with my friends because Mr. Barton was a grown man and although he may not have treated me like a kid, compared to him, at this moment, I did not feel like his equal. What I did feel was under his power even though he was not one to take advantage of that. We were both bare chested, and both essentially hairless. Interestingly, he had little hair anywhere on his body. What he had was all trimmed very tidily. Our cocks were similar; both cut, both light in color, both of average to maybe slightly above average length and girth although it was hard to tell in their semi-erect state. He handed me one pair of shorts and we both slipped them on. In some respects we might just as well have left them off as they did a very poor job of covering our cocks or holding them in place. As we moved, you could feel and see them jiggle around freely under the shorts. In fact, the material rubbing on my cock had sort of a stimulating effect I was very conscious of. He led me over to the large exercise mat in the main open area of the exercise room. I could see that Mr. Barton must have been feeling the same effect. We agreed on a best of three round format and that I would start the first round in the over position. The round would end when a pin was made. I felt overmatched in my head but was hoping my strength would at least give him a run. Mr. Barton made it easy for me by taking the lead in the experiment. "Okay Ethan, I'll get down in the under position and you position yourself over me. When I say "go" we will start the round and wrestle until one of us pins the other. Okay?" "Sounds good." I got into position over him, leaning my right arm over his right shoulder to grasp his right arm. Our first real skin-to-skin contact. I placed my head alongside his. Our bodies were parallel both on our knees and his arms straight to the floor under his shoulders. On his signal we began. My first move was to grab his arms to disrupt his balance. It worked perfectly as it must have surprised him. It caused him to half roll, half fall to the mat with me directly on top of him. This first fall surprised him but he quickly began to fight back by swinging a leg over my back and lifting himself back up over me. At this point I was face down to the mat and he was lying on top of me. Yes, I could feel his cock pressing into my back and mine pressing into the mat. But this was just physicality. He was holding me down but to get a pin he would have to turn me over and stay in control. He surprised me by folding his right arm under my shoulder and then around the back of my neck. When he exerted a force with this move, it caused me to rotate to my left at which point he quickly released the half-nelson and leaned with all his weight pressing my shoulders to the mat. 1-2-3! That was it, I was pinned. "Well, you dominated me that time, John." "No worries, Ethan. You made a strong first move but didn't follow it up which gave me a chance to retaliate. What did you think?" "I'll think and talk later. Right now I would like to get some revenge in round two." It was strange the way my competitive nature rose up when I got so crushed. We set up for the second round with me in the under position. When Mr. Barton gave us the go, I quickly moved my legs out of the start position and before he could react I sort of bulldozed myself into his side to knock him down on his back. I laced my right arm through his crotch to hold his right leg from kicking me back. Yes, I felt my arm strong against his cock. I was determined to rise up and straddle him. I moved my arm back up over his stomach and climbed up on top of him. Now, instead of my arm pressing into his crotch, I was sitting on him, crotch to crotch, I could feel his dick against mine and I could feel that they both were hard. All this was happening in an instant as I resisted his considerable attempts to break free. I leaned down on his shoulders with my head buried in his chest and counted. 1-2-3! We were both breathing heavily from the exertion. For what seemed like a bit longer than usual we stayed in that position and it was impossible not to notice that are hard cocks were pressing against the other's. As we caught our breath and I rolled off there was a quiet in the room. Then Mr. Barton broke the silence. "Wow. You surprised me that time. I don't think I was prepared for such an onslaught. I have to hand it to you for such an effort." "Thanks John. I'm sorry if I overdid it. I just wanted to show you my strength. I'm not sure what made me be so competitive. I think sometimes I am just so in awe of you I wanted you to see me as capable too. Does that make any sense at all?" "Of course it does, Ethan. Wrestling just naturally bring out that side of us. I loved feeling your strength and respect your honesty. Are you ready for the grudge match?" "You know John, I think we have enough data. I'd rather we call it quits on wrestling for now." "That's fine. Hey, let's treat ourselves to the spa works: sauna, whirlpool and shower, before lunch. Then we can see what the rest of our day might bring." "That sounds awesome, John. And maybe we can talk about the data we collected?" "You betcha!" he said, while ruffling my hair. Let's head to the sauna. Chapter 6 - The sauna He grabbed a couple of towels and switched on the sauna saying we'd have to wait about 20 minutes for it to warm up to 120 degrees. There was a bench outside the sauna. Mr. Barton suggested we take off our wrestling shorts and just lay our towels down on the bench as we would do in the sauna. It amazed me how comfortable I felt in his presence. It seemed so natural to sit there on the bench in our nakedness, even with our persistent erections in full bloom. "So what are your first impressions after our experiment, Ethan?" "Well, to tell you the truth, my head is full of impressions. First, I was surprised how much I enjoyed the action. I liked the way we were engaged with each other, using our strength and speed and wits. Even though it didn't last as long as I would have thought, it was pretty intense in the few minutes it took to do two rounds. I can feel it in my body still, obviously, and it seems you can feel it too. Second, I couldn't help but feel the physical intimacy involved in our movements. I noticed that we were both hard during the match. I had never felt another guys hardness before. I know it was just part of the match but it was very noticeable to me. Especially, when I was sitting on top in the second round. I felt our cocks rubbing together and that was pretty intimate. So I guess I would say that the data tells me that you can have very intimate touching between men that is not really sexual but produces sexual feelings within each separate body." "Wow, you have such an analytical mind, Ethan. I'm impressed by your impressions. I must admit mine were not all that different from yours as far as the physical experiences. I also noticed we were both hard during the match. I also felt our cocks rubbing together even as I struggled to break your hold on me. And I too felt it all passed by faster than I expected. But I think I have a slightly different conclusion to the experiment." "Really! I would really like to hear what you thought." As comfortable as were talking to each other, it was clear from our unacknowledged erections that we were both feeling more than academic debate. "Well, I think with all our talking we have avoided one elephant in the room. So I'll just point it out. In my experience, most guys, and maybe all guys, are drawn to cocks. Their own, to begin with, and by extension, all others. Just like your friends in the locker room, showing them off, comparing them in size, feeling the ego boost of having the biggest in the room, appreciation of all the different sizes and shapes; all these things are what I think of as natural male cock worship. I believe that this is a trait in all males but in many it gets repressed by forces like parental scolding or religious banning or societal shaming. In the absence of these negating forces, these locker room games would be fun and natural and not necessarily so secretive or embarrassing for some. I don't know where the fears stem from but I would guess that it stems from homophobic fears and prejudices. If we had a more accepting society where we allowed everyone to love who they love, our homophobic fears would be allayed and there would be no reason to repress the outward demonstration of male cock worship." "Hey John, what do you mean by homophobic?" "It's simple, Ethan. Some men are drawn to men sexually the way the majority of men are drawn to women sexually. The same is true for women. This is just the reality of the human race. Homophobia is the fear of same sex sexual attraction and this fear leads to the repression of such conduct. Our society is strongly repressive in this regard even to the point of shaming anyone who even thinks or wonders about such things. For this reason, guys like you and your friends might make fun of "sissy boys" or "tomboys" or men who don't fill the Marlboro Man image and such. Does this help?" "Yes, John. Like always, I am amazed at the things you explain to me that nobody else ever has. It makes me angry in a way to think that so much about the world has been hidden from me and that I have been brainwashed by so many authority figures in my life. I feel so lucky to have met you. At the same time, I wonder what if I hadn't met you? I wouldn't know any of this stuff. And I don't know if my friends have met someone like you. Do they know about these things or are they completely in the dark like I was?" "I don't know the answer to that, Ethan. Maybe you will be the one they learn from. The word will only spread by the brave of heart who are not afraid to tell the truth." "You're right, John. I'm going to have to think long and hard about that." "Hey, look at the time. Let's get in that hot sauna and open our pores!" Inside the sauna the scene was much the same except for the 50 degree increase in temperature. We were sitting close to each other on the high bench and continued our conversation. Mr. Barton led it off. "Say, Ethan, I have a question for you. How would you describe the feeling you had when you felt your cock rubbing against mine during the match?" "I would say that it felt physically good, and a little strange emotionally." "A little strange?" "Yeah, strange in the sense you were talking about before. There was some voice in my head saying this was not okay even though my physical body was totally into the feeling." "I see. So would you be interested in collecting some more data? Maybe we can explore the physical part a bit more while we try to tune out the negative voices in your head. What do you think?" "I think that if I was with anyone else, the voices would be stronger than my curiosity but you have made it so easy to explore this expanding universe that I think I would like to gather some more data." "Do you remember when I told you about the daisy chain. How at first I just said that the guys rested their heads on the laps of their neighbors?" "Yeah. I remember every word of that story." "Well what if we just make a daisy chain of two here in the sauna. Since the shelf is narrow, why don't you get up here on top of me, like you were in the wrestling match, but just facing the other way, and we can rest our heads in each other's lap. Let's just see how it feels." I trusted Mr. Barton and knew he was only trying to educate me in the ways of the world. We had already felt physical intimacy during the wrestling match and everything returned to normal after that so why not collect some more data, try something new. "Okay! All in the name of my education!" "Exactly!" I stepped down to the lower bench as Mr. Barton was lying down on the upper. He welcomed me with open arms as I clumsily climbed up and lay down tummy-to-tummy, so our heads rested against each other's cock and balls. My cheek pressed against his hard cock, my hard cock rested against his cheek. "How are you feeling now, Ethan?" "I'm feeling sexually stimulated, physically intimate, and a little awkward because I don't know how to be," I answered honestly and openly. "You don't have to be anything, Ethan. Let's just rest like this as our form of male cock worship. You can feel free to look at my cock even feel it if you want to collect more data. I might do the same if you give me the okay." I trusted Mr. Barton completely. Of course I said it was okay. And of course I took him up on his suggestion. At first I just moved my head from directly atop his cock to just beside it. There I could see it so closely. I realized I was closer to his cock than I had even ever been to my own. I could see every contour of the head and each vein along the shaft. During this close examination of his cock it became somewhat detached from Mr. Barton himself and I just wanted to examine, okay worship, this beautiful thing in its own right. I reached to put my hand around the shaft as I had done to myself so many times before. Of course the sensation was different because it lacked the internal response of nerves I would feel in my own. But now I could concentrate more on the actual feel of the cock itself. Its smoothness. Its simultaneous hardness and softness. It was a glorious object in itself. As I was doing this, Mr. Barton was mirroring my movements. So now I could feel both the external feel of his cock and the internal feelings of my own as he gently rubbed my own shaft and up over the bulb, back and forth, more gently than a masturbatory rub just enough to give me delicious sensations that were brand new to me. It felt like bliss. "Are you okay, Ethan?" "Oh definitely so, John. I have never explored another guys cock up close or touched another guys cock. It seems like the world just keeps expanding every day I spend with you. I really appreciate everything you do for me." "I feel the same, Ethan. It is so nice to just lie here with you. I guess this proves my point about guys appreciating cocks. How can one not, right?" "Right, John." "Well, I think we should head into the whirlpool now. It's not safe to overheat in here. But it will be a sauna session I'll never forget." "Me neither. That's for sure." Chapter 7- The rest of the visit After our close encounter in the sauna, we moved to the whirlpool bath which cooled us down in more ways than one. It felt good to me to share space with Mr. Barton, to be in his life, in his house, in his lap. He had been so understanding in our discussions. He helped me to see a much broader view of the world and to be more accepting of peoples' behavior. Most of all, he gave me the tools to be more accepting of my own inclinations, passions, interests, without being as judgmental as I was before meeting him. I could picture myself making friends with Mr. Garrett when I returned to Braxton in September, maybe even mentioning my friendship with Mr. Barton. The whole world seemed bigger and less fragmented to me. The whirlpool was quick and we headed for the showers. He had a huge double shower with shower heads on opposite walls so we showered together while carrying on our getting to know you conversations. I learned that he had bought this house when he was married and took sole possession after he divorced. Evidently his wife ran off with a young stud who she said appreciated her more than Mr. Barton. The story sort of flew over my head but the one thing I understood is that she had been rich and he had done very well for himself in the divorce settlement since it was she who ran off with her lover boy. Anyway, that explained his grand house on a librarian's salary. The shower was uneventful except for the eyes. I found myself sort of mesmerized by the closeness and openness of our day. It was like nothing now to be naked together. And because we had experimented with close physical intimacy there was no tension in the air. I had felt his cock and he had felt mine. And it seemed like we could do it again anytime we felt like it with no problems or concerns. This was a way of being that I had never imagined. I didn't know if such a comfortable atmosphere would be possible with anyone else. Would it be possible with a girl? I wondered if male intimacy was easier to manage because of the sameness. With a woman it might be like two different beings coming from two different realms. With Mr. Barton it felt like we were somehow from the same realm. Was it something special about him or could it be like this with other men too? I had so much to learn. But for now I just wanted our time to stretch out forever. We dried off, I got my clothes out of the dryer, he put his sweats back on. We went upstairs to grab a bite to eat. It was 12:30 so we had a little time left after lunch. While we were eating, Mr. Barton asked me if I wanted a massage to end our day. I felt a little guilty about receiving such a gift from him when I was doing nothing in return. But for all the times he had asked about it and offered it, I thought it must be something that would please him too, so I agreed. Along with lunch, Mr. Barton mixed a "juice cocktail" that he promised would make me feel relaxed. I didn't ask questions. I trusted him. And it was delicious. I had two glassfuls. After lunch I was feeling no pain. I think it was just the way I always felt now in Mr. Barton's company. More relaxed, and more myself, my inner self, than I felt anywhere else. It seemed I could explore any notion with him and he would be there to explore it with me and offer his insights and wisdom. He was opening and expanding my mind and my body. I was in heaven. He led me into the sun room which was warm and bright. He reminded me that he was very experienced in massage and welcomed me to partake in unreserved submission to his hands. The phrase actually sent tingles through my body. It made me realize that my lack of reservations around Mr. Barton was actually a kind of submission to his authority. I had handed over my resistance to him. The trust I felt and the respect I had for him allowed this submission to his authority in a totally unreserved way. As I removed my clothes, again, for the massage, my head felt like it was in a cloud. My whole body felt light. I felt a deep desire for the massage. For Mr. Barton to work on me, to take me away to wherever it was he might lead. It felt like I was in a dream where any marvelous thing might happen and I was open and trusting that dreams never hurt you. Mr. Barton folded and moved my clothes to the shelf. he showed me where to place my head as I lie chest down on the massage table. There is unfamiliar music playing and he lights a stick of incense that permeates the room with a pleasant aroma. My eyes are open looking straight down through a hole in the table which makes it easy to breathe while in the face down position. "Do you have any questions, Ethan?" "I can't think of anything. I would just like to say how good it feels right now to be in your hands." "I appreciate that, Ethan. Now just close your eyes. We will not talk during the massage. At some point I will simply indicate that you should turn over on your back. Other than that I will minister to you in silence and will read your body's reactions to my touch to determine the direction of my touch. If I misread those reactions and you are uncomfortable in any way, you may of course speak up and we will end the massage immediately. Is everything understood?" "Yes sir." I gave myself over to him, without fear and without boundaries. He began by pouring a warm thick oil over my left foot and commenced a deep rub. I was losing my sense of time and space. It felt like I was entering a dream. I could feel his hands on me but it was as if I was in the dream and feeling something from outside me that was impossible to name. It felt so good, and as in a lucid dream I knew I was safe no matter what so I could go with the pleasurable sensations wherever they took me. I felt the sensations move along my legs, deep pressures that were releasing tensions and leaving me utterly relaxed. The relaxation was moving up my body. I had no sense of time, just pure energy moving deep up through my thighs and into my buttocks. It was a continuum, there was no sense of difference between my thighs and my buttocks as the energy moved deep in the tissue of my being. Even as I felt the orbs separate and the energy focus into the space between them intensifying more as the focus moved to the most sensitive area in that chasm. There was a deeper feeling of opening and penetration that was experienced in the dream as a submission to an outer force. The submission felt like a relief, like the burden of control had been removed and I could let go of all pretense of or desire for control. Like allowing myself to be lifted and placed in a safe place where nothing could hurt me. The submission deepened as the penetration deepened. My inner mind felt a welcome excitement as if my insides were being stirred in a way that gave me great pleasure. It was impossible to identify the source of the pleasure. It was a foreign pleasure I had no knowledge of. And as it had come over me, it began now to recede. I could sense the penetration ebbing as the deep pressure in the surrounding area began to take over the pleasure focus. Then the movement of energy proceeded to my upper torso inducing a release of tension and an utter calm. I felt both the strength of the application and the softness of the movement as I went deeper into the dreamlike state. After the energy reached my neck I felt a tap and in some way knew that it was the indicator for me to turn onto my back. It was still dreamlike but I do remember looking into Mr. Barton's eyes and sensing the power over me I had entrusted to him. Without any words exchanged, the process began again at the front of my neck and moved down over my chest. As I felt the power move over my nipples it felt like a focussed energy and a tingling sensation that was also new to me. I was discovering all these new sensations. Were they real or just a dream? My head was fuzzy still but coming into a little more focus. As the energy moved down through my ribs, my stomach and into my abdomen, I was feeling more conscious of my surroundings. I kept my eyes closed but it felt less like a dream and more like a relaxing sensitive touch. This increased alertness allowed me to realize more of what was really happening and consequently revel in it. As I felt his hands surround by balls and move to my shaft I realized how incredibly hard I was and how incredibly exposed I was. Lying there in Mr. Barton's complete power, I was as powerless as a flower that someone approaches to fondle and admire, to smell, even to taste. I started thinking about all the things that had transpired before. We had done so many intimate things but always together, each exploring the other equally. But now I had given him open license to my body and without regrets. In fact, as he fondled me, some part inside of me was begging for more. I wanted him to absorb me. As is hands glided over my cock, I could tell that the rubbing was deeper than when we were in the sauna. It felt more like the way it did when I masturbated. I loved the feeling. Then I felt one of his hands slide down between my legs and rub the skin between my balls and my asshole. This felt strangely familiar but I didn't know why. Maybe from my dream? I felt his finger move to touch my tight hole. The finger was covered in the oils he was using for the massage so that without much effort it slid into my hole with ease. It sent a rush, an awesome rush that washed over me. His other hand was now clearly, but slowly masturbating me. So I was feeling two explosive actions at once, either of which would have been more than I could dream of happening. As is finger moved deeper into my asshole, I could feel my resistance relax which allowed him to extend it deep inside me. As he moved it inside me it found a spot that sent lasers of pleasure through my body. As this was happening I could feel a rise in my sexual response as his hand moved up and down on my cock. After a slight pause, I suddenly felt something very new and exquisite. I could feel him french kissing my cock. I was in complete submission. I wanted to give him more. I wanted to give him everything. I wanted him to take everything. I realized he was taking everything. He had taken my ass. He had taken my cock. And why not, they were his. I felt no longer separate from him. I realized what a giant step there was to reach sexual intimacy with another man. I wanted that intimacy. I wanted him to devour me. And he did. I felt him in my ass touching that incredible spot I didn't know existed and felt my cock against the back of his throat as he swallowed me and let his tongue dance with my cock. I let go. I let go of all reservations and without any more control I came full force into his sucking mouth. It was not like any orgasm I had felt before. My cum just kept on spurting into him, again and again and again until I let out a loud oar of utter bliss and strength and gratitude and submission. Chapter 8 - Conclusion For the rest of the summer we continued our short visits between classes and our "tutoring" sessions on Saturdays. At first we talked a lot about the first massage. How perfect it was for both of us. I learned more about Mr. Barton. I learned that he was one who was drawn to men sexually. How that had affected his marriage but that it had all worked out for the best. I continued to submit to him. I loved feeling in his power but I felt no desire to exert that kind of power over him. He taught me how to give a good blowjob and he and I both enjoyed my practice sessions. It turns out they were a very suitable activity to make the most of a short visit. Whether or not I was drawn to men more than women, he definitely nailed the fact that I, like all men, enjoy cock worship at some level, if only their own. I loved sucking him off. I always felt like I was serving him whether giving or receiving a blowjob with him. I was either serving his pleasure in satisfying his desire to suck my cock, or serving his pleasure in satisfying his desire to get off himself. I never felt like he was serving me. I loved this imbalance in our relationship. He was always interested in my stories about my friends. Although I didn't open the doors to my new world to them, they were finding things out on their own and I shared their stories and our exploits with Mr. Barton. I sensed he would discover them in school the next year. The more I studied Teddy, the more I thought he was holding something in. I wanted to open a door for him but felt I had to protect my relationship with Mr. Barton as he promised to do for me. As for the others, who knows where they may end up on the spectrum of sexual intimacy. One thing I'm pretty sure of is that Mr. Barton got it right when he said all of them would find out that they worship cock either through direct experience, if they were lucky, or in a private repressed way, if they are not as lucky. I came to understand better his point about the continuum of intimacy. Any physical exchange has some degree of sexual intimacy associated with it, no matter how innocently it is portrayed. Holding hands, wrestling, showing off in the locker room, resting a head on a lap, posing nude for an artist, getting measured for a suit, standing close in a subway car, etcetera. It is only the forces of repression that induces fears about the sexual intimacy we feel in such exchanges. And just as that continuum of intimacy exists, so too, I believe, does the continuum of sexual desire for the same or the opposite sex. And it is the same sort of repression that pretends that continuum devolves into two poles. It seems everyone is somewhere on the continuum and that's why it makes sense that all males worship cock to some degree. I thank Mr. Barton for opening my mind to these expansive and inclusive concepts. The End --- Comments welcome at email address above.