NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR: (Non-Fiction)
This story is labeled Non-Fiction, which means it is based, either in whole or in part, on a real person. Some of you out there may be aware of my first, and still developing work, on another storyline. That story will continue, someday. "On Straight and Narrow" was, is, and always shall be my first and primary love, despite beliefs that may be contrary to that idea. I developed the basis of these works in high school, just doodling mostly in a boring sociology class (long story, very dull).
"On Straight and Narrow" is... well, it was intended to be a group of stories, from vastly differing perspectives, about the lives of various men that are torn between two worlds. Never assume you know what two worlds those are from in the series title - to make that assumption would be a BIG mistake on your part. The inspiration for the series came from two of my best friends, both of whom were also torn in life regarding who they were, who they believed they should be, and the real men that they became. For the first time, this story is based on me and my real life.
Slowly but surely, I've decided it's time to stop hiding the person I am. In recent months a really close group of friends from some of my social networking sites have been a true inspiration for me. With that in mind, I want to dedicate this story to my current inspiration in life. I'm sorry 'my love' that I 'gross' you out at times, or that it's possible that my worrying about you or loving you makes things awkward and sometimes embarrassing for you. Please forgive me for asking what you can't give or can't be. I love you just as you are, and that will always be OK with me. The greatest gift you have ever given me, was yourself. You encouraged me to return to my writing, and through the process of learning to deal with rejection and emotion last night my writer's block has finally been lifted, at least for this story to come out.
This is meant for you my love: Je t'aime mon coeur, mon amour, my blue-eyes. Je t'aime!
Our story begins...
My name is Daniel. I'm 21 now, having graduated from University not all that long ago. Yesterday something happened, something that took me back 7 years in time. It was something poignant, tender, loving, and painful. A conversation with the person I love, who is away at school, brought it all back to me just as clearly as if it was yesterday. I'm a native of Texas and grew up in the area around the Texas Hill Country of central Texas. From mid-childhood on I worked a part time job during the school year as a ranch hand and longer hours during the summers. I come from a large family and was always surrounded by love and care. I have great friends and I'm really a very lucky person. I have few if any regrets. If I had it all to do over again, I can't really see doing anything differently because to make even a small change might prevent me from having found the person I am currently connected to.
One thing I should make clear, early on, is that I'm really a very open and understanding kind of person. When it comes to issues of religion, politics, or sexuality, I believe everyone is entitled to their own beliefs, so long as those beliefs do not infringe on the freedoms of others. With that in mind I try to keep my political and religious views mostly to myself, though I do share them at times with close friends and family. Regarding sexuality, I'm often considered a conundrum by my best friends. I grew up in a straight world, but with some very oversexed kids (lol), and to be honest that left me a bit bewildered. I personally hate 'labels' on people, since I seldom believe they fit the subject person well, but if I was forced to be 'pegged' into a category, I suppose you would call me bi-sexual, and certainly a closet case. My present love has told me often that my sexual identity and life choices are not an embarrassment, so I am at peace.
In rural Texas, anything except perfectly straight is at least frowned upon, and at worst a public disgrace, if not more than just that. So let's just say that I try not to make waves, but still live as I chose to without bringing harm to those that I love. That's the way I live my life. You're entitled to your own opinions, but please don't try to change my thinking on that, about myself, because it just won't work.
In some ways my life was difficult, I guess, because all the kids in our family were expected to do well in school, but that's true of many children in the U.S. I don't think my parents were too harsh and I've never doubted their love, or that of my brothers and sisters. I was never really athletic, but hard ranch work did give me a body that was certainly not weak. I was really an introverted kid, but I did have a few really close neighborhood friends. My very best friend, that I've kept since childhood, is named Mike.
This story, this 'gift', isn't just about Mike and I, or at least I don't see it that way. I think this is a story about who we all are and what gifts are really in us to give to those we love and cherish. You see I'm in the process of packaging up some gifts for my love, to send overseas. A birthday and Christmas are coming up and I wanted them to be special. College students need to save their money, and so I'm in trouble now because I was asked not to do this you see. The one I love would feel compelled to return such gifts in like kind, and so I was asked not to spend too much money. Being the man I am, and loving the person I do, I just couldn't help myself I guess. My love is easy to buy for because clothes are always welcome.
There really is no way for my love to spend money on me in a like way, because I'm very difficult to buy for. I don't like clothes, in fact I try not to wear them unless I have to. Old torn jeans and faded t-shirts keep me more than happy, and are what I like to wear the best when I have to go out. I also recently came into a large amount of money, and loving electronics as I do I went out and purchased almost everything my heart desires, so again there really isn't anything my love could buy for me that I don't already own. So in conversations last night I just kept wracking my brain to think of something my love could get for me that would truly be what I wanted, something that I didn't already have, and preferably didn't cost too much.
That was what caused me to remember, 'the gift'. Thinking of things in my life that have been special to me, and yet cost next to nothing and are easy to supply. For those of you that are not interested, please stop reading now, because this story is largely about a sexual gift and I don't want to upset anyone here. You might ask, how does a lover in another country provide a low-cost sexual gift? Ha! Now that is a question isn't it? This isn't about paying for a prostitute or sending pornographic photos or stories. This is about the connection between two people and what one person can, on a rare occasion do, that leaves a lifetime impression or mark on their lover or partner. Many lovers ask for a lock of hair, a special photo, a piece of perfumed cloth, or something of that nature. Sometimes this can happen even with a random discarded piece of paper, or some other bit of useless trash.
Just so you know, I protect the identity of my present love, going so far as to not reveal their gender, because my love is European and we are engaged in a CyberLove affair, which is certainly not in fashion presently in most of Europe, or with most continental European families. With that in mind, I have chosen not to reveal the exact nature of the gift that I thought of last night because that could reveal such information. Suffice it to say, that my past memories brought the idea to mind, but that my request was somewhat 'different'. This is my story of, "The Gift". For those that love "The Story of Max and Chris" I have to apologize, because my real life is nothing when compared to the exciting lives that people like Max and Chris have lived. I'm just a hick kid from the rural southern United States, that first dreamed of being a writer over 7 years ago.
Mike and I went camping one weekend, and supposedly fishing. It was mostly just a ploy to have sex when Mike's current set of girl friends were out of town and of course Mike, as always, just wanted a weekend of sex. We were 15 then, and so my brother dropped us off at a somewhat remote lake site where camping was isolated and allowed. We brought camping and fishing gear of course, but I thought the fishing gear was just a ruse to throw people off. I didn't realize Mikey actually did want to fish. So after sleeping Friday night, Mike got up early on Saturday morning and after a quick breakfast got dressed and started preparing his fishing gear. I never really did care much for fishing, and now with Mike leaving I kind of pouted, "Mikey what the hell am I supposed to do?" I was completely awake and totally bored, but still had no desire to go get wet and cold this early in the morning just to catch a bunch of smelly fish for a greasy smelly late day meal.
Mike just said, "Then get up and go for a hike or something Danny. You love the outdoors just as much as I do!" "Oh damn it Mikey. It's god damn Saturday morning, and I'm still tired. You didn't exactly let me get much sleep last night dude," I told the lout. "Ha-ha! Oh, so it was all my fault then? I wasn't the human vacuum cleaner last night man, you were Daniel. So don't blame me for you not getting any sleep," Mike replied as he finished packing up his fishing gear, with a smile on his face remembering the previous night, and prepared to set off down to the lake. I was not happy now, and getting a bit angry that I had agreed to go on this trip at all. I was always the weaker boy in our pair. Working long hours at the ranch I had built up a pretty good physique, but Mike was both a basketball player, baseball player, and the star quarterback on our high school football team. Every year he continued to get bigger than me and built more solidly, though at this time he only lifted weights during football season, not year round, so he had yet to build the rock solid body he would later develop in college athletics.
Ready now, Mike just turned his back and started to hoist up his pack to head down to the lake. 'Danny' was all but forgotten. We'd been doing this kind of thing off and on since about age 14. The first time we ever had sex together was when we were both age 13. Sex then was irregular and infrequent. Girls were readily available (to Mike) and the times when they were not and that two lone 13 year old boys could find themselves in bed alone together during those rare occasions were naturally even more rare. Plus getting caught by parents or siblings made things almost impossible at my house and only slightly more possible at Mike's. Once we turned 14 our parents gave us more leeway and our first real chance to be totally alone came on a backyard camp out - which gave us the same idea that we had used on this very weekend.
On trips like this one, when we were certain there was no one around there really wasn't any need for two boys to get dressed in the remote countryside this early in the day. So as was our custom after a long night of sex I was lying in our sleeping bags naked and still sprawled out in my normal morning lazy position, propped up on all the pillows I could find. Mike had tied the front of the camp tent flaps fully open, since like I said, no one was around, so I had a full view of the camp site, and likewise anyone at the site had a clear view of the inside of the tent. Most of the site was set in heavy trees with a quickly growing deep slope starting at the edge of the clearing dropping swiftly down to the lake shore. Mike was around the stone fire circle we'd built late the previous early evening before roasting hot-dogs and marshmallows for dinner the night before. Mike and I were both expert outdoors-men by now. Both knowing the proper way to setup a real camp site, keep our food strung from tree limbs to keep away from animals, and normal other things like how to bank and safely care for a camp fire on cool Spring weekends like this one. Mike was easily the better early riser than me and had obviously been up early picking up around the camp site and tending the dead fire and coals. Already kindling and new dead branches and twigs decorated the middle of the stone fire circle in preparation for the fish dinner to be served that night.
Mike was a great fisherman, but we'd also brought some hamburger meat (kept cold in an ice chest, still in the branches) along with more hot-dog wieners. Mike was intent about bringing in his usual large catch of fish, from when he seriously went fishing. I knew now that his plan was to take extra fish home and surprise both sets of parents with fresh fish for a Sunday dinner late. Naturally we could just as easily have purchased those same fresh fish from a nearby lake store before going home in order to make everyone think we were truly great outdoors-men. Instead, Mike really wanted to prove something on this particular Saturday, so again 'Danny' was off the menu for any 'meals' this morning. Never a boy to not get my way when I could, I also knew that Mike had a soft spot in his heart for a certain slightly younger Texas ranch hand and long time best friend. Even remembering back to that first night of sex at age 13 when things had been awkward and gone badly, leaving the younger of us, namely me, in tears and upset, Mike had been the gentle tender one to calm me down and tell me everything was 'cool' and no big deal. "You just aren't ready yet," Mike had said. Perhaps sometime I'll tell that story too. Watching my bigger friend standing up now as he took a last look at the fire circle, it was becoming harder to remember the boy he had been, since he looked now more and more like the man we would end up growing into someday.
My best friend was about the most thoughtful caring guy you can imagine. He was extremely popular and very outgoing, compared to the more shy reserved boy that I really was. I was timid, Mike was boisterous. I was shy, Mike was anything but. Yet for all of that, Mike said, early on in our childhood, "Danny dude, there's always been something about you that's different from all the rest of us people." In my family it was called 'Irish Magic' and thought to be connected to my deep green emerald colored eyes. But the day I remembered Mike telling me that, years back now, his deep blue eyes were deadly serious and I almost could have sworn he was about to cry when he said those words to me. As I looked up now I caught those same deep blue eyes contemplating me from only about a dozen feet away. The morning wind caught up his medium brown hair and tossed it lightly around his head. Without taking his eyes off of me, and still showing that same quirky smile, he reached around his back and pulled the old beat up baseball cap, that was normally found shoved in his back pocket, popped it out, and then yanked it smartly down on top of his head to take back control of his hair from the morning breeze. Now the usual 'Mikey smirk' caught his face and a twinkle light up those deep blue eyes as my best friend prepared to finally leave me now. I was positive that smirk came from some thought about the night before, and just as that thought crossed my mind, my BFF winked at me and turned to leave.
Desperate now not to be left all alone and bored, I decided to play dirty. Like I said, my bigger friend had a soft spot in his heart for me, and even though I rarely used such tactics I knew that once in a while I could easily get away with this. "Mikey! Please don't leave me here alone!" I yelled at him as he started to walk away. Sure enough I used just enough pleading in my voice and pitched it just high enough to possibly remind him of that same frightened 13 year old boy from just less than 2 years before. Immediately frozen in place, Mike dropped his head, and even from that far away I heard the boy sigh in frustration, as I was sure he was also rolling his eyes in his head wondering what act of god had left him stranded here on such a beautiful Spring day with a crybaby. Dropping his fishing gear and pack, a now irritated Mike turned on his heals and took just 6 long strides to reach the front of the tent, then bend over slightly and walk back in, promptly squatting down on those pretty impressive strong legs of his.
"What the hell Danny! Now what do you want?" Mike almost shouted at me. Not one easily dissuaded once I had made my mind up, I was already prepared for this response. Mike and I were actually almost the exact same height but his slightly larger frame and bigger muscles made him look much larger to most family and friends than me. Now I'd made certain to look smaller and more timid than usual, and also lay back on the pillows, having had just enough time to get the sleeping bag open leaving my chest and abdomen fully exposed and even some of my crotch just peeking out. After two years of being around Mike, I knew precisely what tactics to use, at most any time of the day, to get my much hornier friend's mind on specifically one idea. My hand reached almost mindlessly across my bare chest and I idly ran a finger over a nipple and then arched my back slightly as my hand ran from my chest across my abdomen and then absently stretched my arm and thigh out, which now fully exposed my penis and groin to my best friend. The fact I was fully aroused most definitely didn't go unnoticed since 9 inches of erect cock is a bit hard to miss in the bright morning light flooding in around Mike. "Please Mike? I'm bored! Can't we think of something else to do together today, instead of hiking and fishing?" I pleaded innocently, my bright green emerald eyes using all the magic I had to hold my friend in place. As expected those blue orbs of Mikey's immediately pegged my hard-on in their sights.
"Ha-ha! Ha-ha! Damn you Daniel, you minx! QUIT THAT!" Mike laughed uproariously, then fell off his legs landing on his ass at the bottom of the sleeping bags. It had taken only those few moments and just those few words to clearly indicate through Mike's hiking shorts that he too was extremely aroused. "Oh my god, Danny, what stupid idea ever possessed me to teach you what guys tend to think about all the time?" Mike begged. "I can't go fishing like this, and you know it," Mike almost screamed at me as he grabbed his hard-on by his shorts to show me his new problem. "If you stay with me I can take care of that for you," I said in a suddenly huskier voice than than the one I had used only moments before. Just like clockwork those blue eyes light with inner fire and I knew passion was ignited in my friend, just as I had expected it to be. If I had been smarter then, like I am now, I would have realized I should never even have bothered to ask, but instead just reached out and grabbed Mike by his manhood drawing him down on top of my naked exposed body.
Just as quick as thought, the fire in Mike's bright blue eyes banked slightly and instead the light of intelligent thought lit up in them now. "So you're bored are you Danny boy?" Mike asked humorously now. "Well then I see we both have a problem, though I think you created this one mostly all on your own" Apparently I wasn't quite as clever with my ruse as I thought I'd been, and just as apparent was the intent now showing in those same bright blue eyes to continue the almost forgotten fishing excursion. Reaching down around the huge bulging erection, and into a front pants pocket, Mike pulled out a by now extremely familiar item. A perfect square packet, deep blue on one side, and clear on the other, the morning light flashed on a golden yellow item clearly rolled up in its plastic packaging. Mike laughed almost wickedly as a clever, sinister, thought obviously entered his head. I had a bad feeling that my best laid plans had just taken a serious detour south.
Setting the packet down, Mike reached his hands to his shorts and quickly unzipped them. As soon as that, he pulled his shorts and underwear down just enough to expose his similar 9 inch cock that was slightly wider than mine but oh so much more engorged and bright red with the blood beating through it. I had underestimated my immediate impact on my friend's lust because there was already a tiny drop of precum starting to barely ooze out of the tip of the glans of his penis as it popped smartly to attention at the grasp of his large hand. With perfect practiced movements Mike used the other hand to pick up the plastic packet and with his teeth tore open the edge of the packaging, while also using the same hand to squeeze the condom from inside its housing and into his hand.
"So you want this do you buddy?" Mike softly asked me as the hand around his throbbing dick bobbed it up and down right at me. I just licked my lips and nodded almost breathlessly, always eager to service Mike, pretty much any time my bigger friend wanted me to. Just as I started to reach a shaking hand out, Mike instead used his other hand and together with both hands began rolling the condom down precisely on his pulsing dick sighing with the attention his hands gave it and the feel of the coated latex as it tightened around his large penis. Suddenly that glistening glans and throbbing organ were isolated from me by a sheen of lubricated rubber. This left a queer expression of confusion on my face that was surely registering in my best friend's bright blue eyes that were now smiling at me. In our two years together Mike had never once tried to force me to participate in anal intercourse, though he had on occasion asked if I was interested. The brutal rape of a friend just that year had left me with horrific nightmares about anal sex and so I never really had any interest in such things, other than the normal boyish fingering and mild oral stimulation that might go on during the throws of deeper passion.
Naturally as often as Mike had sex with his many girl friends of choice, his use of a condom for intercourse was second nature to him. He'd also taught me how to use one, though we didn't need to really. Mostly Mike was always encouraging me to try to have sex with any girl I might choose to. For me, since that first sexual encounter with Mike, I had never really had any desire for sex with any other person, girl or boy. Mike had always been enough for me, though I was certainly no where near enough to even keep Mike even mildly satisfied in his chronic urges. Besides I was just starting to realize that year that I might be gay, since I was only having sex with a boy, or possibly bi-sexual, though I had never really discussed that yet with Mike, but my best friend was most certainly a dominant heterosexual since he would only choose sex with me if there were absolutely no girls to be found at all, like this weekend. Plus while I definitely could give Mikey satisfaction it always seemed to just leave him wanting more, since only true heterosexual intercourse seemed to be able to keep him satisfied for more than a day or two. Mike had always practiced safe sex with girls, and with boys there was only me, and only him for me as well. Still it was a wonder that Mike had never once contracted any disease, considering his sexual prowess and many various and repeat partners.
Now breathing deeply, and beginning to moan softly Mike tossed his head back slightly closing his eyes and just licking his lips. "Ah" Mike moaned, stroking and lightly beating on his hard dick, his fingers rubbing up and down the sides of the lubricated latex. My breathing was also louder, but when I finally reached a hand out to try and touch Mike's erection, his other hand just casually pushed mine away. "Mike," I started to say. "Hush now," Mike replied quietly, never once stopping in his task. His moaning and breathing now paced one another, and his well practiced hand beat a steady rhythm in line with it all. His back arched slightly then as his urges deepened and I knew it wouldn't take Mike long now to come to a climax.
Just as I thought my friend might finish. He instead slowed down just a bit and sat up a little more to open his eyes and gaze down at my fully exposed naked body. "Show me now how badly you want me Danny. Show me you care about this at all," Mike almost laughed at me, once more throwing his massive erection my way. That was something my friend had long ago taught me about sex, that if you can be deeply passionate in sexual love making, yet intimately connected with your sexual partner, then even something as basic as laughter during sex can actually deepen the pleasure and intensity of it all. Breathing fast and deeply I was almost frantic now to show Mike that I badly wanted his handsome body draped fully over mine. I lay back down on the pillows, spreading my legs apart and fondling my ever more painful erection. Almost begging and pleading with Mike to reach down and touch me, somewhere, anywhere on my naked flesh.
My willing servitude and desire to please my friend clearly reflected in the heat now burning fierce in his eyes. His lips we now fully wet from his tongue sliding every so often to roll across them, they parted slightly as a deep moan left his chest. Never once slowing the self stoking of his cock, his pride, his manhood, he slowly reached his free hand out toward my burning penis. With my hand I pushed it toward his, begging him, pleading with him to take it in his now warm, very large hand. Almost at the instant his hand touch my raging dick, an explosion of air and noise burst from Mike's mouth and chest. Looking down, his penis was impossibly large now, and I just knew that condom was far too tight and would surely rupture at any moment. "AH!" Mike almost yelled out, and his hand stopped in a shaking movement, as if the very act of any movement at all on his penis was far too painful for thought. His free hand, that had barely even touched my penis, quickly withdrew and the next sound to greet my ears were peals of laughter and sheer pleasure erupting from Mike. Even tears started to roll out of the corners of his eyes because he was laughing so hard.
Frantic now in my desires, almost in pain with waiting lust, my friend's chronic laughing began to irritate and enrage me instead. "Mike! Damn it, Mikey, why did you do that?" I yelled at my friend. Still laughing somewhat, but calming down, Mike carefully reached across the sleeping bags to the side where we kept clean towels and spare clothing we had brought. With even more practiced precision, Mike carefully removed the condom from his now slowly easing erection. He appeared to take even more care than usual not to spill the almost bursting contents of the rubber with his hands. Setting the rubber aside, Mike quickly cleaned himself up, and just as quickly sat up on his knees pulling back on his underwear and shorts and zipping up the front to hide his pride and joy and my deepest desire.
"Gosh, buddy, I have to thank you for that you know," Mike said in a very good mood. "I didn't realize that you really do help a dude start the day out right," Mike said as he genuinely smiled down at me. Now growing desperate, I instead pleaded with my friend, "But what about me?" With genuine love in his eyes and also that same former intelligent light, Mike reached down and pulled up the forgotten condom now filled completely with spent semen. "Oh don't worry Danny, I've thought of something to keep you busy for the rest of the day, while I go fishing." And with that thought Mike reached that very warm hand out and almost tenderly stroked my groin and flaccid penis, and with his other hand he deposited the used condom on my stomach. "Here's a souvenir of this mornings recent activities to keep your mind and body from getting too bored now. I happen to know what you like to do best with that clever mouth of yours, when it isn't trying to trap me in one of your little games you think I don't know you play with it. You know, if you'd do something more productive with such clever thoughts than just waste them out of your mouth, you might really make something of yourself one day dude," Mike commented as he began to withdraw from the tent to go.
"What the hell do you mean by that you ass hole?" I yelled, truly frustrated with my best friend now. The bigger boy was already outside and had reached his deposited pack and gear and just began hoisting it all back on his back and shoulder, but just as he prepared to start down the side of the hill to the lake-shore my friend turned around and even from that distance the love and friendship of those deep blue eyes reflected strongly to me. "I mean Daniel, that you were always better at school than me. So maybe do something just as creative with your ideas, like, I don't know, maybe become a writer or something. At least then you'll make some money and be less likely to waste anymore of my mornings," he said with a chuckle in his deep voice. And then Mikey disappeared down the hill and I didn't see him again until later that day in the early afternoon after he had returned with his fishnet bursting with catfish for our dinner, and our trip home.
That really was the first time I remember anyone telling me that maybe I should become a writer someday, or saying that I had any true talent, but even more memorable was the forgotten gift my friend had left me with, thinking to simply turn my own game around on me in a prank. You see as a straight boy, a used condom is just something useless and wasted now, but still Mike was only half joking because deep down he knew, I think, how passionate I was about him, how much I must have loved him. So I spent my morning not nearly as bored as I thought I would. I had Mike's gift with me, to remind me of my friend, of the boy I now knew I was in love with. And as I used my idle time to engage in the usual naked boy's self pleasures for the rest of that morning, before later taking the recommended hike, I would occasionally, carefully, cherish that condom, my gift, and remember my friend, my love, and sigh.
I carefully cleaned up and dressed for my hike and then placed Mike's cherished used condom down on a paper napkin on my backpack I had brought. I wanted to allow it to dry out, intending to take it home with me as a keepsake of that weekend. I enjoyed my hike as much as Mike knew I would since we both truly loved the outdoors, so I was later than expected getting back, and Mike was there first, having already cleaned the fish for dinner and even cleaned up some more around the tent and campsite. As promised after dinner, Mike did as he had said he would and gave me an exquisite night of passion and sex, one I have still to this day never forgotten. I didn't remember his cherished gift, at that moment, because he had replaced it that night with one of greater value, himself. It was only later on Sunday after getting home and unpacking my backpack that I realized I had lost the cherished gift. Mike likely found it when cleaning up the tent, and as any straight boy would assume and do, just threw it away as the waste product he thought it was. It was not something wasted or gross to me. It was his gift and a piece of him, and something I would always have cherished, had it been mine to keep.
A recent conversation with my current love, brought this all back to me, the thought of Mike's funny gift. You see I remembered how much I had cherished what Mike had given me, something he thought of as simply trash - yet something that had been part of him. So I told my love about it, since there is nothing we can't talk about or share. I talked about how sometimes a bi-sexual boy might ask for such a gift. I had hoped my love would send me something not so dissimilar. Being so far away now, and because I miss my love so badly I wanted something to remind me how real this person I love is. I thought it funny and no more expensive to send than postage, a little time, and something that would otherwise just be wasted, trash. Instead my love was grossed out and said what I wanted was disgusting and insisted I stop talking about it. My love is not religious so the request doesn't violate any such restrictions. Being European, they call sex there a 'casual thing', so again I thought nothing of my request.
You see I had forgotten that Mike was a jock, an athlete, and an outdoor fish cleaning normal gross type of boy. Mike thought nothing of sharing a used condom with the boy he had sex with often enough. It was just a joke. I guess if Mike had thought of me keeping the condom, maybe he would have been grossed out, but then again Mike is straight and getting married next year. After age 16 we never again had sex, though he is still my best friend and will always love me like a brother. I searched the Internet last night and found a great many stories of boys and used condoms, so I know I'm no freak regarding my past experience. But today I spent it alone, and cried, because last night the one I love made me feel like a freak, either because I'm not straight, or because my interests sexually are gross. I don't really know for certain why. I just wanted something showing passion and sex, something just for me, created by my love.
My love tried to call me several times today. Instead I just sat home alone and remembered "the gift". I will get over these self doubts and feelings soon enough. I know the one I love is not ashamed of whatever I am. I know I am loved still. My love missed me today, and text messaged my mobile phone, "Please tell me everything's OK. I love you. xxx"
You see I grew up in a straight world surrounded by straight people. I have always loved straight boys and girls and I just can't help falling in love with them, but they really don't understand what it's like not being straight. I can't help who I am or who I love. Just like I can't help knowing that I finally have found the true love of my life, and yet also a person that can never really be mine, because they are meant for someone else someday, I believe. I just wanted a gift, that's all, to always remember my love by, like the one from my past, but I had forgotten you can never go back again. You can never return to the person you once were, and I cannot expect my love today to understand the gift of a past love and so give me something similar, except this time something that I can keep, forever.
Life itself is "the gift". And love is something you truly rarely find. "What does something like a used condom really matter?" I should be asking myself, and why is something like that so important to me now? Maybe I am just a gross, disgusting person, but for some reason I couldn't help once more wanting "the gift".
Short Story Series will be continued...
Please tell me what you think or just drop me a line, or send me your ideas about what stories I should write in upcoming ones as I get the time.
Thank you, from 'Dan' aka 'Markus' (aka 'M') K. Callaghan'
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