Date: Thu, 4 Dec 2003 10:05:17 -0800 (PST)
From: Tim Mead <timmead88@yahoo.com>
Subject: "Dr. Tim and the Boys" 36

The following fictional narrative involves sexually-explicit erotic events
between men.  If you shouldn't be reading this, don't.

In the world of this story, the characters don't always use condoms.  In
the real world, you should care enough about yourself and others to always
practice safe sex.

The author retains all rights.  No reproductions or links to other sites
are allowed without the author's consent.

Ed S. has helped a lot with "tech" advice in this chapter.  Thanks, Ed!
Thanks as always to Tommy, Evan, Patrick, Mickey, and Ash.

Timmead88@yahoo.com

Chapter 36: Nearer the Fan?

GEOFF:

The night after I lost my virginity with Philip I lost it again.  That is,
he fucked me.  Just about everything I know about sex between men I learned
from reading Nifty stories.  I knew that it could hurt your first time.
But then there were all those stories where somebody slips his cock into
another guy, and they're both banging away to a fare-thee-well.  Let me
tell you, it hurt!

Philip was really gentle.  He knew it was my first time, and he tried to
make it nice for me, but I'd be lying if I said I didn't have second
thoughts about taking it up the ass.  Since It was supposed to be so great,
I was determined to do it.  After all, I'd been wanting some great-looking
guy to do me since I was a teen.

When he was sticking fingers up my ass and massaging my prostate, I was
going crazy.  I kept telling him to fuck me, to put his cock in me, that I
wanted it SO bad.  But the real McCoy was different from his fingers.  So,
he took it slow.  He even offered to quit.  But I made him just move it in
a little at a time.  Eventually, he got completely inside me, and then he
just rested there until I got used to the burning and the feeling that my
guts were being rearranged.  Finally, things eased up and I told him to go
ahead.

Again, he was very gentle, asking me frequently if I was OK.  Well, before
long, I was more than OK.  The burning was still there, but as he moved in
and out, he was hitting my nut, and I had never felt anything like that
before.

The strange thing is that the next day I went to classes and then drove to
Berea for a practice with the guys, and I felt empty, deprived.  I wanted
his big cock back in there.  I couldn't wait for him to do it again.  So,
he and I got together at my place or his just about every evening we could.
He would laugh and tease me and say he loved it that I was such an eager
bottom.  About every third time, however, he'd want me to do him.


I was disappointed that I couldn't go with Philip and Trey and their
friends to Florida.  I don't know Mark very well, but I think what was
happening to his dad and his lover in that little town sucked, especially
what the bishop did to Mark's dad's partner.  Besides, it would have been a
chance to get to know all of Trey's group of friends better.

Philip seemed exhilarated by that trip, and he certainly got a lot of
attention locally for his story in the university paper about it.  I'm
concerned about something, though.  He listed by name everyone from here
who went to Florida, and he mentioned in his article that some of them were
straight and some were gay.  But I've heard some comments that they are
probably all gay.  Wonder if Philip anticipated that?  Did he deliberately
out them all?  And what about Steve Metz and Mark Mason, who are both
straight?  Or Cedric Jones and that English professor, Timothy Mead?  I
don't know whether they're straight or not.  But then, I suppose when they
all decided to make the trip they knew what the consequences might be.

Anyway, I admire them all for going, and I wish I could have been with
them.

* * *

CHAZ:

After practice one late afternoon, I showered and dressed as usual.  When I
got to the door of the field house, I discovered it was snowing.  I had
walked to practice, and I could have walked home again, but I was glad I
didn't have to.  Though we'd had a really beautiful fall, it looked like
winter was coming early to Northern Ohio.

Cal Thompson, the seven-foot center of our team, offered me a ride home in
his Escalade.  We talked about the success of our little "visit" to the
kids who beat up Steve Metz.  He was laughing about the one who pissed his
pants.  I told him that kid and Steve had become sort of like buddies, and
he couldn't believe it.

"You're shittin' me, man!"

"Believe it, dude.  Even though he's in the same grade, I think those other
two were just sort of keeping Jared around as a mascot.  They got off on
bossing him around, and he liked being with the jocks.  You know how that
goes."

"Yeah," Cal chuckled, "I guess I do."

"Well, anyway, thanks, man.  Two of those punks are in juvenile detention
until they turn 18, and you and the other guys helped make that happen."

"Hey, dude, the guys and me, we were happy to help out.  And it was a hoot
seeing how scared them little suckers was."

About that time, we got to my apartment building.  I asked Cal if he'd like
to come in for a beer.

"No, man, the season's started and we ain't supposed to be drinkin' no
beer.  I'll have a Coke witchu, though, if you got one."  So he parked, and
we went up to the apartment.

When we got there, I asked, "Sure you don't want a beer?  Even a lite?"

"No way, man, and you don't want to let Coach know you've been having any
alcohol during the season.  You know he'd fry your ass good.  You're in
enough trouble already."

I laughed and got us both Cokes.

We sat in the living room.

"Now, Greeley, wassup witchu and that trip to Florida?  How could you just
take off and miss practice like that, man?  We probably wouldn't a lost the
Pitt game if you'd a been playin'."

"Well, I suppose you saw the article in the paper."

"Yeah, saw the one in the university paper and the one in the Plain Dealer.
So what's with that?"

"You know Mark Mason, don't you?"

"Yeah, one damn fine shortstop, even if he is a white dude!"  He grinned to
let me know that was a joke.

"Well, he's also one damn fine guy.  He has been one of my best buds since
freshman year."

"I know that, man."

"So, Mark's dad, Stan, has been like another father to Ced Jones, Trey, and
me.  His, uh, friend, got into some trouble, and we went down to help `em
out."

"Mark's old man and his `friend' are fags, ain't they?"

"Well, yeah.  That was pretty clear in Halifax's article, wasn't it?"

"And the friend was `in trouble' with his church, right?"

"Yeah, so?"

"So, Chaz, looks to some of us like you and your buddies went way out of
your way to help a couple of queers."

I looked him in the eye and said, "The word is `gay,' dude."

"Queer, fag, gay, don't matter.  I just can't see you all leaving classes
and you missin' practice to go down there and stand with a couple of
pansies, even if one of `em is Mark Mason's old man.  Or was it just an
excuse to go to Disney World?"  He grinned.

"Well, as a matter of fact, we did take in some of the attractions the next
day."

"No shit?"

"No shit!"

"Man, if Coach hears that, he'll really be pissed."

"You aren't going to tell him are you?"

"No, man.  But I'm still worried about you, Chaz.  You better watch out,
running with them, uh, gays.  Folks is gonna think you're one."

I knew that was coming.  My palms had been sweating as I was trying to
figure out what I was gonna say.  If only Philip Halifax hadn't written
that article, then I wouldn't be having this problem.  And it was going to
be a problem for all of us.  I mean, Philip's out, he's the president of
the Straight/Gay Alliance!  But the rest of us are going to keep getting
this question one way or another.  I guess we should have known when we
decided to go that this might happen.

Shit!  I really needed to talk to Tiger.  And Tim and Ced.

"Cal, dude, people will just have to think what they think.  It's really
none of their goddammed business is it?"

Call looked puzzled.  "Well, man, you know there ain't no Black fags.  And,
to tell the truth, I don't think I've ever known nobody I was just real
sure was like that.  Oh, I've seen some pretty swishy guys, but nobody I
ever knew for certain was a homo."

I sat there wondering where he was going with all this.

"I guess what I'm trying to say is that, man, I KNOW you ain't no queer.
But if you want to just tell folks it's none of their business, well,
that's OK with me.  But you gotta understand, man, some folks is just
naturally gonna assume you are because you seem to be hangin' with a gay
crowd."

No gay brothers?  I guess Cal really believed that myth.  I wished I could
tell him about Ced and his buddy Francis, but I knew I couldn't do that.
He had just let me off the hook, and I wasn't going to be forced to either
lie to him or come out.  Not right then, anyway.

He stood up.  "OK, Greeley.  I guess you know what you're doing.  What
should I tell the other guys on the team if I hear them talking about you
and those guys you went to Florida with?"

"Well, remind them that they know Trey and Mark and Cedric.  Then tell them
to mind their own business."

He chuckled.  "OK, dude.  Thanks for the Coke."

"Thanks for the ride, Cal."

We touched fists (a team thing), and he left.

* * *

TIM:

Cedric and I had pretty well decided that we'd go to Gwen Fairchild's
department party together, even if it meant that everyone there would know
we were a couple.  I wasn't about to try to hide my love for Cedric, and he
assured me he'd risk whatever flak he had to take from his baseball
teammates rather than miss seeing me recognized at Gwen's for my
forthcoming article and book.

We realized, however, that there was a problem.  What about Ced's four-year
association with Mark, Trey, and Chaz?  If he and I were recognized on
campus as a gay couple, people who knew that he and the other three had
been practically inseparable since their freshman year might automatically
assume they were all gay.  You know, guilt by association.  Neither Chaz
nor Trey was out, but I felt most of all for Mark.  Obviously we had to
talk with all three of them before we responded to Gwen's invitation.

When I called Trey and explained what was up, he was, of course, perfect.

"Congratulations, Tim!  You deserve the recognition.  It's great that the
article is being published, but Stanford is doing your book?  Fantastic,
Timmy!  I'm SO proud of you!"

"Little brother, you're very sweet.  And I thank you for your good wishes.
But, look, Tiger, there's something we need to discuss."

"What's that, big brother?"

"I can't go to Gwen's party without Cedric."

"Yeah, so?"

"So, everyone at the party will know Ced and I are a couple."

"So you are finally coming out.  I always thought you would."

"But, Trey, have you thought through all of this?  If Ced comes out, what
about you, Mark, and Chaz?"

"Yes, Tim, I've thought about that."

"So, Cedric and I want you and Chaz to talk this over.  If you are worried
in any way about this, I'll refuse Gwen's invitation."

At that point, Cedric, who was at my elbow during the phone call, said,
loud enough for Trey to hear, "No, Tim you won't do anything of the sort.
You'll go, but I won't."

Trey, who had heard all that, laughed.  "Tim, I will have to talk with the
big one about this, but my vote is that you and Cedric must both go to that
party.  Chaz and I can deal with any fallout.  If people want to think
we're a couple, that's okay.  And I'm never going to deliberately lie to
anyone about how I feel about Chaz."

"You won't be surprised to know that you've just said what I KNEW you would
say.  But, Trey, promise me you and Chaz will talk about this as soon as
you can and then you'll call me back.  He may have a different view.  He
may have a rough time with his basketball teammates if they know you and he
are more than just roomies."

Trey chuckled.  "I think Monsieur Le Grand may just surprise you, Tim, but
I'll talk with him when he gets home and then I'll get back to you."

* * *

TREY:

I put a frozen lasagna in the oven and fixed a salad.  When Chaz got home,
he threw his backpack in the bedroom, pissed, washed his hands, and came
into the kitchen. He came up behind me, put his arms around me, and pulled
me tight against him.

"Mmmm.  Your hair always smells so good."

"You can still smell my conditioner?"

"No, Tiger.  I can smell you."

"You wanna forget the lasagna and go to bed?"

He turned me around, grinned at me, and said, "Hell no.  Let's have the
lasagna and then go to bed."

He helped me set the table.  We took the lasagna out of the oven when the
timer rang and let it set for a few minutes.

After our recent "misunderstanding," we had been especially tender and sexy
with each other, so I was not surprised when he took off my apron (didn't
want tomato sauce on my clothes) and then grabbed me by the butt cheeks,
pulling me into a kiss.  I couldn't help thinking of Tim.  He had told me
that Ced did that to him regularly.  It was really nice having Chaz's hands
on my ass, sort of squeezing and stroking, while he and I kissed heatedly.

When I thought I might pass out from lack of oxygen, I pulled away.

"Greeley, we have to choose between the lasagna and a good fuck.  You still
want to eat first?"

He gave me that goofy, lop-sided smile that makes my knees weak and my cock
leak, and said, "Eat first.  Then sex."

I asked what he wanted to drink with the meal.  He surprised the hell out
of me when he said he'd have some of the chianti I was having.

"No beer?" I asked.

"Nope.  One drinks red wine, preferably red Italian wine with hefty Italian
dishes like lasagna, right?"

I nearly shat on the spot.

"Uh, yeah," was my feeble response.

He chuckled and sat at the table.

After we had taken a few bites of the lasagna and the salad, I said, "Chaz,
Tim called this afternoon, and there's something you and I have to
discuss."

He gave me this hangdog look and said, "Aww, before the sex?"

I began to laugh.

"Oh, I knew you were merely toying with my affections.  And I need you to
toy with my cock.  But if the little professor's got a problem, then I
suppose we've got to deal with it."

"I promise to take good care of that magnificent tool of yours later,
Greeley, but let's talk about Tim and Ced's dilemma first."

"Oh, it's a dilemma is it?  And it involves brother Ced, too?  Well, then,
I guess we'll just have to `deal with it' as you said.  So, whassup?"

I explained what Tim had told me about Dr. Fairchild's party and the
concerns he and Cedric had about their going as a couple.

He looked thoughtful as he listened to what I was saying.  When I finished,
he didn't say anything for a while.  He took a forkful of lasagna, a drink
of wine, and then a forkful of salad.  As he chewed his salad, he seemed to
be deep in thought.  Tim seemed to expect Chaz to react firmly that he
couldn't risk being outed to his basketball buddies, and that word of Tim
and Ced being a couple would get back to them quickly, despite the vast
number of students on our campus.  I wasn't so sure, as I'd told Tim.

"Trey, babe, this is really weird.  Just this afternoon, Cal was asking me
about the trip to Florida.  He seemed to think that only gay guys would
have gone down there to help Stan and Doug.  I think he wanted me to
reassure him that you and I were straight."

Wow!  That got my attention for sure.  "So, what did you tell him?"

"Basically that it was no one's business what my sexual orientation was."

I was reminded again how easy it is to underestimate this gorgeous hunk.
Chaz isn't stupid.  He's not a clown.  That's just a pose.  Unfortunately,
he uses the pose so much that even I occasionally forget how sharp he is.
And, then, of course, sometimes he does things like that stunt at Stefan's
which make me wonder all over again who's the real Chaz.

"Good for you, babe!  Tell Cal and all the others to butt out."

"Well, Tiger, it's not quite that easy.  You know, they did help me deal
with Jared and his friends.  I don't want to alienate them if I can help
it."

"So, lover, what are we going to tell Tim and Cedric?"

He grinned.  "They have to be there.  No question!"

"Really?  Ya think?"

"Damn straight!  Tim's GOT to go and receive the recognition he's entitled
to.  Ced's GOT to go as his date.  If some sons of bitches on this campus
want to speculate about their friends, that's too damn bad.  You and I can
deal with our friends on a one-on-one basis, don't ya think?"

I was pretty sure, as I had suggested to Tim, that Chaz would come through,
but it was a relief when it actually happened.  But he'd made the point
perfectly: Tim and Ced HAD to go to the party, and Chaz and I could very
well deal with any fallout that came our way.  So I called Tim and Ced,
with Chaz standing beside me, and we took turns telling them what we
thought.

* * *

JARED:

Well, after my appearance in juvenile court, I didn't have any friends at
school anymore.  Jeremy and Richie's crowd avoided me like the plague.
"Traitor" was one of the nicer terms they called me.  The rest of my former
friends avoided me, I guess, because they didn't want to have anything to
do with someone who'd helped beat up on an innocent guy.  It was pretty
lonely not to have anyone to talk to between classes and in the cafeteria.
That's what I get for trying to run with the fast crowd.

I was busy, though, what with my classes at school, my visits each Tuesday
after school with Father Max, and my work at the hospital.  I worked two
and a half hours on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays, and then did the
remaining two and a half hours sometime over the weekend, depending on when
my supervisor wanted me there.  The only rules Judge Flowers made were that
I had to be home by 11:00 PM and I couldn't be made to miss church on
Sunday mornings.

Father Max is so cool!  I was nervous before my first meeting with him,
even though Steve kept assuring me he was a great guy.  But he was a
minister.  Worse, he was a priest, and that seemed awesome to me.  When I
got to his office at the church, he shook hands and then asked if I'd like
a Coke or something.  I told him that would be nice.  My throat felt real
scratchy and dry because I was nervous.  He excused himself for a minute
and came back with two Cokes.  He handed me one and then asked me to sit.
He sat in a chair facing me, not in the chair behind his desk.  And he told
me right off to call him Max.

He knew what I had done to Steve.  Steve had even stayed with him for a few
days while he was getting over his injuries.  But he never said a word to
me about that.  He just started by asking me how he could help me.

It was hard for me to say it, even though I had come out to Jess and my
folks, but I told him I knew I was gay and was having trouble dealing with
it.  I can't remember everything he said, but he made me feel so much
better after we had talked a while that I wanted to keep coming back just
to be with him.  I felt . . . I guess the word is "safe" with him.  He
accepted me the way I am, and he never criticized me or even implied that I
was bad.

Then he explained that gay people didn't choose to be gay, that it was
probably in their genes.  He went on to suggest that, in a way, that meant
God made some people gay and some straight.

"So, Jared, do you think a loving God would create some people gay and then
forbid them to use their sexuality, even though it's permissible for
straight people to do so?"

"No, that doesn't seem right."

Well, we talked a lot about things like that.  At one of our later
meetings, he told me he had problems with people having casual sex, whether
they were straight or gay, but that sex in a loving relationship was a
natural expression of our humanity, and he thought that was true of gay
people as well as of straight people.  Of course I had never been able to
talk with anyone about that kind of stuff, and I felt SO much better being
able to go over all of that with Max.

With his permission, I kept going back, even after I was feeling OK about
myself and being gay and all that.  I just wanted to be with him and talk
with him.  For a while Max was the only male friend I had (except for
Steve, of course).  I mean Jess is always my buddy, but she IS a girl.
With Max I got so I could talk about anything.  And he always had time for
me.  He always listened to what I had to say or what I wanted to ask and
always gave me a straight answer.  And he never lectured me or "preached"
at me.

I gotta confess I also found him sexy -- for an older guy, that is.
Anyway, I probably kept going to see Father Max after I didn't really need
to any more, but he always made me feel welcome.  He took an interest in my
school work, too, and in what I was doing at the hospital.  He always asked
me to tell him about both when I went to see him.


I'm not sure what Judge Flowers had in mind when she ordered that my
community service be at the ER at the hospital, but it sure has opened my
eyes.  When I went there the first day, they took my picture for the ID
that all hospital personnel have to wear, and they gave me a set of green
scrubs to wear and told me I'd probably want to get some of my own since I
was going to be a regular there for the next sixth months.  They gave me a
web address so I could order some. Mom let me order several sets, some in
green, some in blue.  They were cheap enough.  I even ordered a shirt that
had a sort of tropical print that matched the pants.

The woman who supervises the nurses' aides (that's what I was to be) got
some information from me and then turned me over to another aide to show me
the ropes.  Turned out it was a guy I know.  Dante Rappolo graduated from
my high school the previous spring and was now a freshman at the
university.  He was working at the hospital to help pay for his expenses at
the U.  I'll have a lot more to say about him later.

Anyway, Dan, as he liked to be called, was real patient with me.  He
explained that we were gophers, helpers, there to do whatever needed to be
done that didn't take highly trained people.  In the ER, one of our jobs
was to get patients into the building from their cars, in wheelchairs or on
stretchers if necessary.  Then the aides get them into special little
check-in cubicles so the nurses can get their "vitals."  We also help them
into exam rooms or into trauma rooms if that's where they need to be.

Sometimes we help push stretchers or wheelchairs to get patients to X-Ray
or CT, get them onto and off of the tables, and things like that.  We get
supplies for the nurses, hold kids' arms still when the nurse is putting in
an IV or taking blood samples.

One of our main jobs is getting exam rooms or trauma rooms ready for the
next patient, and that often means cleaning up messes from the previous
occupant.  And, man, you don't want to know about those messes!

That reminds me.  I suppose we all have some sort of idea what goes on at a
hospital ER, but you don't REALLY know until you've worked there for a
while.  We get everything!  Lots of older people with heart attacks.  I
remember one guy who looked like he might have been about 35, and he had a
kidney stone.  Talk about somebody in pain!  And then there are the ones
who are brought in by the EMT's, people who've been in car accidents, or
who've been accidentally or on purpose shot or stabbed, women in labor.  In
a very short time, I've seen a lot of pain and a lot of blood and a lot of
torn up people.  Since I'm at the very bottom end of the pecking order, I'm
the guy they call to clean up the mess.  The first couple of times I had to
go to the men's room and spew and then come back and finish my job. You get
so you can deal with.  You don't ever get "used" to it, but you can manage.

Sometimes when things are quiet in the ER, I've been sent to help out on
the patient floors.  Usually I help give male patients baths, the ones who
can't do that for themselves.  There was this one guy who'd been injured
pretty badly in a car accident.  He was a high school senior, like me, but
he went to a different school.  His right arm was in a cast, and his left
leg was in traction.  He wasn't happy when a female nurses' aide and I
showed up to give him a bath.  She was supposed to show me how to do it.  I
felt sorry for the poor kid.  We did him all over, except for his casts, of
course, but when it came time to do his crotch area, he made her leave.
Told her no way was a woman going to wash him there.  He let me stay.  I
had to let him wash his genitals with his left hand.  I was glad those
scrubs are so loose and that the shirt hangs out over the top because that
helped hide my boner.


Speaking of boners, I've saved the best until last.  I guess that won't
make any sense until I tell you I think I've fallen in love with Dan.  You
know, Dante Rappolo, the guy I mentioned earlier, the one who helped me
learn all the things I was supposed to do.

I had known Dan casually when he was at my high school, but we were never
buds or anything.  When they assigned me to him, he was a little cold at
first.  I guess he had heard what I had done and why I was there.  But he
was very patient about explaining things, even going over them again if I
didn't understand or forgot.  And as we worked, sometimes we had a chance
to talk.

He told me he was sorry when I started hanging with Richie and Jeremy, and
he wasn't surprised by what they had done.  I explained how I got involved
with those guys.  I told him that I knew Steve Metz now and that he was
such a cool guy and that he sort of acted like a big brother to me and we
got together on Saturdays for burgers when we could.  After that, Dan eased
up and became a lot friendlier.

Dan was a wrestler in high school, but he told me he didn't have time to go
out for wrestling at the university.  I guess his folks don't have a lot of
money, and he has to work as much as he can.  Besides, he's in pre-med, and
that means his course work takes up a LOT of his time.  I couldn't believe
how much time he spends doing his assignments.  He's got labs and more
reading than I would have thought anybody could get done.

Dan is a couple of inches shorter than me, so he's about 5'8".  He weighs
about 175.  Don't get the wrong idea.  Like I said, he's a wrestler, and
that's all muscle.  Even in his scrubs, you can tell what a great bod he's
got. When we made beds together, I loved to get a look at his ass as he
leaned over.  The way the cotton of his scrubs sort of emphasized the crack
of his ass and showed off his glutes made it difficult to breathe.  His
thighs are twice as big as mine.  He's got black, curly hair, olive skin,
and brown eyes. He has a cleft chin, he's got a beautiful smile, and he's
just so damned cute!  I get hard just thinking about him.

One day after I'd been there maybe three weeks, a day when things were
pretty slow, Dan and I had gone into one of the big walk-in linen storage
areas.  He surprised me when he shut the door and leaned against it.  I was
curious about why he did that.

"Dan, what's up, man?"

"Jare, you're gay, aren't you?"

I remembered what Max had suggested if anybody ever asked me that question.
"Danny, I don't think that's any of your business."

"Hey, it's cool!  I've known you were gay ever since I first saw you back
in high school.  You're lucky Bauer and Passinger never figured it out."

"How'd you know?"  Dammit, me and my big mouth!  I'd just admitted it to
him.

He grinned.  "Ever heard of gaydar?"

I had, actually.  That was something that Max and I had talked about.  Max
said he thought it was mostly myth, but that some gay guys insisted they
could recognize other gays, and that was called "gaydar."  "Yeah, I know
what that's supposed to be."

Still grinning, he began to walk closer to me.  "Mine works, Jared!
Besides, there's something else?"

"What?"  My cock was throbbing as he walked toward me.

"Will you relax?  Look, guys our age are hard a lot.  But I couldn't help
noticing you're hard almost all the time when we're together.  Do I have
anything to do with that, Jare?"

He was standing a little closer than two guys would normally stand, and I
could almost feel the heat from his body.

"Yeah," I croaked.

"Whew!" he said.

"What?"

"You don't know how many times I've wanted to ask you that.  Today, I
finally got up my courage.  See, I've had a constant woodie ever since they
assigned me to show you around.  Since we've been working together, it's
been even worse."  He looked me straight in the eye, waggled his heavy
black eyebrows, and continued, "I want to do all sorts of fun things with
you."

I thought I was going to faint.  Here was this absolute hunk coming on to
me.  And the most irresistible thing about it was the shyness that was
mixed in.  You know, that he admitted he was nervous about asking me, and
that he'd been trying to get up his nerve to ask for a while.

He put his hands around my waist, pulled me toward him, and began to kiss
me. I'd never kissed anybody on the mouth except for little pecks for my
mom and my grandmas.  I knew about open mouth kisses, or frenching.  All
the guys talked about doing it with the girls, but I'd never gotten that
far with a girl.  So what Dan did took me by surprise.  First he sort of
ran the tip of his tongue over my lips. That made me shudder.  You know,
the excited kind of shudder, not that what he was doing was yucky or
anything.  I sort of gasped when he did that, and then he stuck the tip of
his tongue into my mouth.  When it touched my tongue, electric shocks ran
all through my body.  Well, before I knew it, we were exploring each
other's mouths with our tongues, and our hard cocks were grinding against
each other.  Mine was leaking more precum than ever before, and I still
felt like I might pass out.  I remember thinking that was the greatest
thing that had ever happened to me.

Then he sort of tensed up, backed away, and took my face in both his hands.

"Wait a minute.  Did you tell me you have to work here until your
eighteenth birthday?"

"Yeah, so what?  Can't we get back to kissing?  Please!"

He looked horrified.  "My God, man, don't you see?  We can't.  You're
jailbait!"


[Chapter 37, "Holiday Cheer," will be posted in two weeks.  TM]