Date: Mon, 17 May 2010 10:04:37 -0400
From: hardreader2000@aol.com
Subject: Jess' Story, Chapter 5

Jess' Story
Chapter 5
From Jess' viewpoint

I was sitting on the edge of my bed reassuring myself that the dream that
had jolted me awake was just a dream. I was sweating and cold and scared as
I had been so many times before.

It was the same damn dream. Me and my mother. And she knew. She knew about
me and Billy and Justin and all the rest of it. She might as well have been
in the hot tub with the three of us as we sucked and jerked and came all
over each other. She might as well have been in the room with me and my
cousin when I shoved my hard cock up his tight, little. . .

I had to stop thinking about it. I felt like I might get sick at my
stomach. I was afraid to move for fear the slightest motion would make me
vomit. But sitting still was leaving me with nothing to do but to think
about what my mother would learn about me if she ever read my story
. . . the story me and my friends had written with Hardreader when I was
back in high school.

I was trying to take slow, steady, deep breaths. Trying to clear my
mind. Trying to focus on the real world around me. The world that . . .

That damn ring tone. It had seemed like such a good idea when I first heard
it. I struggled to open my phone and hold it up to speak. To hear.

"Yeah," I muttered. All I heard was like garble. I couldn't focus enough to
make out what was being said.

"Who is this?" I asked.

As I concentrated on listening, I realized it was Anne. Thank god it wasn't
my mother. Relieved, I asked Anne if I could call her back in a little
while.

"Sure you can, silly. But you don't have to. I just wanted to say
thanks. Talk to you soon." Click. She was gone.

"Thanks?" She had said "Thanks." It took me a moment to process what she
had said and what it might mean. I figured that her date last night with
that guy Paul must have gone OK after all.

You're welcome, I thought. I should have told her, "You're welcome."

I continued sitting on my bed as my body and mind slowly shook off the
lingering effects of my dream. Finally I got up and took a shower, brushed
my teeth and pulled on some clothes. When I looked in the mirror I could
see I still looked like shit. Like I was hung-over or something.

But I hadn't even had a beer the night before. Just studied and went to bed
early. And had that same damn dream again.

Then I remembered I had to call Anne. I needed to put my plan . . . what
little plan I had . . . into action. I'd actually thought about it a little
the night before just before I went to sleep. Maybe that's what had
triggered the recurrence of my dream.

I called Anne's cell. She answered on the first ring and I asked her how
last night had gone. Typical of Anne, she didn't really say what had
happened. As close as she came was to tell me, "With your help, I didn't
need to wonder whether he was . . . you know . . . enjoying himself
. . . while he was . . . you know . . . kissing me."

She went silent, forcing me to ask, "So what happened then?"

"I can't tell you, silly. But thanks to you I'm pretty sure I haven't lost
him." I swear she sounded so happy I could almost see her smile over the
phone. "If I can ever return the favor . . ."

"Well, as a matter of fact," I snapped at the chance, "there is one thing I
was hoping you might help me figure out."

"What's that?" she wanted to know. I played coy. I told her I wanted to
meet her for lunch. I had something I wanted to show her. I wanted her
opinion. I'd show her at lunch. No, I couldn't tell her more than that over
the phone.

She set a time and named a little restaurant right on campus. I said I'd
see her there.

I had a couple of hours until our meeting and I spent it making sure that
my idea from last night was really what I wanted to do. I had decided I
should show her one chapter of my story, "I Thought I Knew." I'd picked
Chapter 2 because that focused on me. From what I remembered, it had enough
sexual content to convey the style of "I Thought I Knew." But it didn't
have any actual sex scenes in it . . . other than being pretty graphic
about how much I liked the taste of my own cum. And at the end there was a
little about me getting off. Cumming in my mouth. Twice. But it was that
kind of stuff that I needed for her to see to get her reaction.

I decided to read through it again. It had been a while since I had read
that part.

As I did, I realized that it was all about how I thought I might be
gay. About how I tried to deal with things when I first started to figure
out I might not be just another straight guy.

All of a sudden it dawned on me that I hadn't ever told Anne I was
"undeclared" sexually. Or had I? I didn't think so. But it was pretty well
known. All my friends knew and so lots of her friends must know too. She
must know at least that I've been out with both boys and girls. She must, I
tried to reassure myself.

Well, what the hell, I thought. If she didn't know before, she will now.

I copied the chapter and stripped out anything that might identify the
source. No title. No "Hardreader." Nothing to identify where it had
appeared or when. I didn't want her tracking it down online and reading the
whole thing. I wasn't ready for that yet.

I printed out one copy and put it in an envelope.

By then, I was surprised to discover, it was already time to head off for
my lunch with Anne.

When I got to the restaurant, I saw her right away at the far end of the
dining room. She raised her hand and sort of waved a little to make sure I
saw her. She sure looked happy.

As I approached the table, I noticed a guy sitting across from Anne with
his back to me. Even though I couldn't see much of him, I never doubted who
it was. When I reached the table, Anne stood up and gave me a little hug.

"This is my friend Paul," she said gesturing toward the guy sitting across
from her. Yep, it was the same guy I had seen on her laptop. The same guy I
had focused on as I jacked off in her dorm room. The same guy I had watched
so closely as I left her dorm the day before.

"And Paul, this is my friend Jess," she said gesturing toward me.

Paul didn't stand up. Just stuck out his hand. We shook. Normally I would
have loved to have the chance to get to know Paul better. As a matter of
fact, somewhere deep in my subconscious I think I was glad to see him
again. To get formally introduced to him. Cuz I thought he looked like a
really cool guy.

But this was not the time. I needed this time alone with Anne. I wasn't
even certain I could explain what I wanted her to do with so many people
around us in the restaurant. Someone might overhear. But I certainly
couldn't do it with Paul sitting there.

So I was kind of relieved when Anne explained that he was finishing his
lunch when she came in and he had offered her a seat. Tables weren't easy
to come by and he was leaving soon.

It looked like Paul had finished eating, so I stood there for a moment
thinking he would get up and leave and I'd take his chair.

This may seem kind of creepy. I can get kinda weird. But I made a point of
standing over by Anne so I could get a good look at Paul's crotch when he
stood up. I mean, after all I had jerked off looking at this guy's picture
the day before. I thought he was pretty hot. . . . So I'm kinda creepy that
way sometimes.

Then instead of getting up to go, he said, "Why don't you pull up a chair?"

It wasn't how I'd planned this, but what else could I do?

Anne started talking about nothing really. Classes. People she knew. I
don't even know what. Paul kept glancing over at me. When I'd turn toward
him, he'd quickly look back at Anne.

Finally Anne paused for a moment and I couldn't resist. I turned full face
to Paul and looked him straight in the eye and asked, "So did you and Anne
have a good time last night?"

I could swear he blushed a little. As Paul paused before answering, Anne
butted in, "That's a rude question when the lady he was out with is sitting
right here. Paul, you don't need to answer that." And with that, Anne
kicked me under the table. It was none too subtle.

"Sorry," I said, turning to Anne and winking. The way my head was turned,
Paul couldn't see me wink.

"So what did you want me to see that was so important," Anne asked with
irritation in each and every word.

"Well, I really didn't want to . . ." I paused and looked over at
Paul. Then in a sort of quiet, secret-like way said ". . . anyone but you
to see this, if that's OK." I didn't really like saying that in front of
Paul, but I didn't know what else to say just then.

Paul realized I needed some alone time with Anne and had excused himself
and left within a few minutes. I never did get a good view of his crotch.

After he was gone, I decided there were just too many people sitting too
close to share my story with Anne in the restaurant.

Anyway, she was kind of pissed at me by then. Probably for a couple of
reason, not the least of which was driving Paul away. We went back to her
dorm and I started to explain.

I asked her just to let me talk without questions. I told her that I
thought all her questions would be answered when we were done. And it
wouldn't take too long.

I didn't tell her about the nightmare. I just told her that when I was
younger, I didn't know much about sex and stuff like that. And I wondered
if I might be gay or bi or something.

"So are you . . ." she started to ask, but I cut her off. I told her she'd
see all that when she read what I had brought her.

I explained that some friends of mine had met this writer and he had told
us he was writing a magazine story on gay teenagers growing up in the
suburbs. My friends, who I told her were gay, had already been talking to
him. Telling him about their lives and stuff. And since I hung with them a
lot, they wanted me to tell my story too.

"That was all a couple of years ago. But that story about me and my friends
is still out there online and now I'm kinda worried what friends would
think if they knew about it. If they ever found out that I had done all
this stuff that in the story. If they ever read it and knew it was me. Cuz
it's kinda personal. And the way the guy wrote it, some of it is pretty
embarrassing," I said.

She just nodded.

"So I brought you one chapter that he wrote that's mostly about me and I
wondered if you would read it and tell me what you think. What you really
think. I need to figure out whether I ought to continue to keep it a
secret. I can't decide what other people would think if they knew it was me
in that story. I thought maybe you could read it and help me figure that
out."

"What magazine was it in?" she asked. Not a question I had expected but
easy enough to explain. So I told her it had been posted on one web site
and then another. Thousands of people had read it and commented on it. It
had become pretty popular when it was first written, I said.

She didn't look too happy about it, but said that since I had helped her
out she would do it.

"Can you read it like today and let me know? It's not too long."

"I'll call you tomorrow," she said and I started to gather my things to go.

"So are you really a homosexual?" she asked. "I've never known a
homosexual."

"I'm kinda nothing. I'm really undeclared. I like some girls. I like some
guys. It just doesn't matter to me like it does to some people. I am
attracted to people I like," I said.

"I never heard of such a thing," she said with a hint of disapproval. My
stomach sank. Anne was probably not the right person to have asked to help
me with this, I thought as I walked out of her room.

To Be Continued . . .

AUTHOR'S NOTE: The characters in this project are real. The names and
somebother identifying information in this story have been changed to
conceal the identities of the characters described. The Copyright for this
story is held by Hardreader. The story may not be reprinted or distributed
elsewhere in print, electronically or digitally without the permission of
the author. I would love to receive comments on this story from
readers. Email me at hardreader2000@aol.com

While you're waiting for the next episode, I hope you'll stay happy. And
stay hard! -- H.R.