Date: Tue, 14 Jan 2003 20:28:35 -0800 (PST) From: Sean Subject: Too Far 3: Tainted Love (The following story contains scenes of explicit sex between an two teenaged boys. The story is true, from my own life, so if you're offended work it out in therapy or something. Your comments, reactions, whatever are welcome at seabear36@yahoo.com. Parts 1 and 2 of this story can be found at http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/adult-youth/too-far/) Too Far - 3: "Tainted Love" By Seabear36 If I'd known how badly I was taking advantage of Ryan, I probably wouldn't have manipulated him so. But I did, and I sometimes wonder what happened to him in the twenty years since that afternoon in the August of my 16th year. We'd been working together doing yard clean-up at a steel mill in Seattle that summer. I was sixteen and he was fifteen. I'd had my first adult gay experience in the locker room of the mill and my second in the front seat of a pick-up at Woodland Park with a man who now ignored me and looked right through me when our paths crossed. He had come in my ass and in my mouth, and now he pretended like I didn't exist. Ryan knew what had happened and he didn't seem to care one way or the other. We'd still work with our shirts off under the hot sun. We'd still sit on the riprap bank of the ship canal with our shirts off and eat our lunches and take brief catnaps. I'd still try to catch glimpses of the bulge of his penis and balls through his jeans, and I'd feel a thrill when his pants rode down far enough to reveal the curves of his hips and the faint suggestion of the start of his ass crack. I realize now that he looked up to me. He lived on a small farm well out of town and I lived in the heart of the city. I was comfortable around computers and I had almost unlimited access to the latest arcade video games because I had friends that worked in arcades across the city. I was one of the first people he ever met who understood his passion for science fiction and for role playing games. I also know that it's just about impossible to convince a sober straight man to suck a cock, even if he is 15 and even if he is horny. Ryan must have had some curiousity about it, right? He must have been bisexual for him to even consider it, right? I still don't know. I do know that he got married not long after he left high school and that he has kids that are going to college right now. We didn't talk much about what had happened between Tim and I in the locker room and at the park. Ryan did ask me what it was like and I was honest. It was scary, and exciting, and it was the most incredible thing I'd ever felt in my life. I'd fucked girls - well, a girl - and this was much better for that. He seemed skeptical, and didn't bring it up any more. One Friday as we were clocking in, our boss came up and told us that we were going to help set up for the company picnic. We got into a van and drove to an old ballroom near a small lake somewhere outside of Renton. We helped set up tables and made sure there wasn't any trash on the grounds. We broke for lunch and found a small, rickety dock sticking out into the muddy lake. It was very hot for Seattle, in the upper 80s, and the air was still and heavy. The water looked inviting. I told Ryan I was going to go for a swim, and he looked at me like I was crazy. He asked about a swimsuit, and I told him I didn't need one. I hesitated for a second, wondering who might walk up but decided I didn't care. I shucked my jeans and underpantsand pulled off my shirt and dropped into the water. It was cool and refreshing. Ryan stayed on the dock for a moment, watching me and looking around. His shirt was already off. I told him to jump in, that no one would see and if they did who cared. He said that he wasn't worried about other people seeing. I grinned and swam over to the edge of the dock. I rested my arms on the edge of the dock and let my body float on the surface. I knew he could see my back and ass, because he was looking right at them. "Come on," I told him again. He stood up and quickly took off his jeans. He stood there on the dock in his white briefs. I tried not to look, but I could see the outline of his cock and his balls clearly now. His tan, flat stomach almost reached the waistband of his underpants, but there was a very white line about an inch high above the waistband. His legs were tan, but not as deeply tanned as his torso and back and arms. He moved to the edge of the dock; it looked like he was about to jump in with his underpants on. I told him he didn't want to walk around with wet underwear all day. He looked at me for a second and I could tell he was mulling something over. I turned away from him and swam a few lengths out. I heard a splash, turned around and he was in the water. I took a quick look where he had been standing and saw his underpants there on the dock. He grinned at me when he came up from the water. His hair was matted down, his brown eyes were dancing with light, and his broad grin and white teeth shone at me like a lighthouse. The water was too murky to make out his penis, but when he jackknifed into a dive his white ass would rise out of the water. I felt myself getting hard in the cold water. I wonderd if he was, too. We didn't have a lot of time, but it felt like we spent a good part of the afternoon there. When we heard the guy we were working with calling for us, we scrambled out of the water. We brushed the water off ourselves as well as we could and pulled our clothes on. I tried to catch a glimpse of his penis, but all I could see were his balls hanging between his legs and a flash of pubic hair as he zipped his pants closed. He kept his back to me, though, and the image of his narrow, soft ass was embedded into my mind. I'd be jacking off to this image later. We finished up our work and piled into the van for the hour-long drive back to the steel mill. Ryan either went to sleep or pretended as if he did. He leaned against me and I put my arm around him and rubbed his upper arm with my thumb. He woke up before we got back, but he stayed in my arm. The driver didn't pay any attention to us. I didn't care if he did or not. I rode my bike home on a cloud. I felt like I'd just had a perfect first date. I wanted to move, to think, to remember, so I angled toward Green Lake and rode around a couple of times to let my mind wander. It wasn't just his body that I lusted after. It was him. It was the way he grinned. It was the excitement in his voice when he talked about a book he had just read, or when we talked about those things in the world that you think you are discovering for the first time. I liked hearing about his friends in school, about the things he did for fun, and about the things he liked to do alone. I was falling in love with him. I wanted him in my life and I would have wanted him as a friend even if we never had sex. But that sex... When I went to bed and masturbated hat night, I closed my eyes and pictured him standing on the dock in his underpants. I imagined him slowly pulling down his underpants and flashing that grin at me. I thought of him sitting on the edge of the dock, his legs in the water, and I imagined myself drifting between his legs and sucking him off as he sat there. A series of images from the summer entered my mind - Ryan with his shirt off, weeding, his ass in the air; Ryan behind the rolling mill, peeing against the side of the building and looking over his shoulder at me and laughing. Looking down at Ryan's shoulder and neck from behind as we sat next to the ship canal. Ryan's ass, tiny droplets of water clining to his pale white cheeks, his bare hand brushing the water off as we got dressed. Ryan's ass... I came with his grin in my mind's eye, his brown eyes looking at me and watching the puddles of semen collect on my stomach. I opened my eyes and looked at my dark bedroom ceiling, and I could just see him like the ghost image of a bright image. Monday morning was uneventful. At lunch time, as we sat at our usual spot along the ship canal, he said that he'd had a lot of fun Friday and that it was too bad we couldn't go swimming again. I told him I'd love to go swimming again. He said that he'd have to bring swim trunks next time and I laughed. "You liked it without them," I said. He nodded and took another bite from his sandwich. I took a deep breath. "You're cute," I said. He smiled. "You're only saying that because you saw my butt." "I thought that before I saw it," I said. We sat in silence for a few minutes. The locks must have just opened, because a line of boats was heading east into the Fremont Cut. We watched them for a couple of minutes. Ryan kept his eyes on the boats. "I don't know if I can handle this." "Handle what?" I asked. "You know," he said. "No, " I said. "You're my best friend," he said, "but you look at me and want to have sex with me." I nodded. He opened his mouth a few times like he was about to say something. But we finished off our lunch in silence and sat together next to the ship canal and watched the world go by. When the whistle blew, we got up and went back to our work. I can tell you exactly where it happened. I can take you to the parking lot of the Fred Meyer that they built where the steel mill used to be and point to a spot where there used to be a wooden shed, and where there were weeds and tall grass that would hide you from anyone passing by. We were just starting to clear that part of the yard. We worked for a few minutes and he opened up the door to the shed. It was dark and cool and smelled of old dirt and oil and mice. There were ancient yard tools in it, rusted and rotting, and I guessed that it must have been the old yard shop. He looked at me for a second and pulled the door closed behind us. It was dark, but enough light got through the gaps in the old walls that I could see. He was right in front of me. I felt his hand tentatively brush against my jeans. I reached out and touched his arm and pulled it closer. His hand closed around me, touching and probing. I reached out and touched him, felt the rough denim and the hardening rod beneath. His breath drew in sharply and a slight moan escaped his lips. I drew my face next to his, thinking about kissing him. "Oh, Ryan," I whispered in his ear. "Don't talk," he said. He undid my belt. He unbuttoned my 501s slowly at first and then quickly pulled them apart. He rubbed my cock through my underpants and then slipped his fingers in the waistband. His fingers touched my cock, they wrapped around it and squeezed. I reached for his pants but he backed away. Outside, I could hear the magnetic crane in the scrap pile loading a box car. The switch engine was passing close to the metal shed. The echoing clangs and bangs of the mill were a steady rhythm underlying everything that happened. I could see Ryan in the dim light of the shed. I was standing there, my jeans and underpants drawn down to mid thigh, and he was looking at me and looking at something inside himself. A cloud of turmoil seemed to roil behind his eyes, but in one quick move he crouched in front of me and took my cock into this lips I'd dreamed of so often. I'd dreamed of his grin when I brought him off, when he looked at me after he'd come in my mouth. I'd never dared dream of them wrapped around my cock, though. I put my hands on his shoulders and touched his hair, but he brushed them away. I leaned back against the old workbench and rested my arms there. He was rough. He didn't use his tongue, and he just bobbed his head up and down on the shaft and didn't make love to it like I thought he should. I tried to moan when he did something I liked, but it didn't seem to do anything. I pulled him up by his shoulders. My cock was wet with his spit. He didn't look me in the eye. I knelt in front of him and opened his pants. I pulled out his cock - it seemed large for his frame, but it was still smaller than mine. It smelled so much better than Tim's had. There was some sweat, but also the smell of Ivory soap. I licked the shaft and the head. It was hard as a rock, but the skin was softer and smoother than Tim's had been. Tim was also about 20 years older than Ryan, though. I pulled Ryan's pants down and took the small shaft into my mouth. I nestled my nose against his pubic hair and sniffed deeply. I felt the pulsing of blood in his cock and savored the heat of it in my mouth. I put my hands on his ass and carressed it, running my fingers across it lightly as I began to work on his shaft and head. He moaned and bucked. My fingers circled their way toward his butt hole, reaching slightly closer with each orbit. I pulled his nuts into my mouth and sucked them, then went back to his cock and tickled the fold of skin on the underside with my tongue, biting and suckling it. He pulled me up and dropped in front of me. He was a quick learner. He put his hands on my bare ass and pulled me toward him. He licked my nuts, he sucked and licked the underside of my cock. His tongue danced around the edge of my cock-head and poked into my cum-slit. He tugged and pulled on my balls. He pressed his fingers around my ass hole, almost touching it. He took up a steady rhythm on my cock. Long, slow sucks and a hand stroking the spit-soaked shaft as he drew back. I could feel it coming. I could feel my legs beginning to shudder. I told him I was coming so he could pull off so he didn't get a mouthful of come. But he didn't. He just hummed an yes to me as his lip-strokes became slower and more deliberate. I couldn't stand it. I had to hold myself up because my legs were starting to buckle and spasm. His breathing was coming faster and faster and he moaned loudly. I looked down and saw wads of come flying from his cock and landing in the dirt between my feet. Seeing this caused my own orgasm built and then held for a moment and then I felt the warm fluid surging through my cock and into this boys mouth. He gagged and sputtered, but I held his head firmly and unloaded my nuts into his unwilling mouth. As soon as I let go he backed away from me with his face screwed up in a disgusted wince. His lips were tightly closed but a few fat drops of cum leaked out. He looked around and dropped to his hands and knees in the dirt and spit a thick gob of white come into the dirt. It landed with a wet splat. He began to heave and after a few gut-wracking coughs spit his lunch up on top of it. He quickly pulled his pants up and almost ran out of the shed. I straightened myself out, kicked some dirt over the pile of come and vomit, and followed. He was far away. The last I saw of him, he was heading for the office where his mother and my father worked. I worried for a moment that he would say something, but he didn't and as far as our parents know he just got sick from working around the chemicals and waste that summer. I never did see him again. It was already late August and the job was going to be over at the end of the following week. On the next day when I went to clock out my boss called me into his office and told me that he'd decided to stop the job early since we were almost done and Ryan wasn't coming back. I was happy to hear that because working without Ryan even for that one day was so boring it was torture. I got to the time clock at the same time as Tim. "I heard you got laid off," he said, "do you want a ride home?" I told him yes, thinking that some more sex might get me out of my funk. But he just took me home. He asked me if he could call me sometime so we could get together, and I told I didn't think so. He nodded and said that was probably best since he could go to jail over my ass. I smiled and waved goodbye as he drove off. I worried for a moment that I'd just sent off a great sex partner, but then I realized there were more out there. A lot more.