Courtesy of www.99Gay-Men.US

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All the usual stuff about you must be old enough in your jurisdiction, etc.  In other words, if you are underage, don't read this unless you have a really cool teacher who assigned it.  Otherwise, come back in a few years, when nobody will yell at you.

This is the twenty-fifth story in the series, The Lavender Line.

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The last time I wrote was about six or seven months ago.  I can place it in time, because it was during my brother Jason's period of rather severe depression over his long-term girlfriend's betrayal.  I remember at the time, my own major complaint in life was that, for all practical purposes, I had remained a virgin well into the second semester of my freshman year in college.

In a way, nothing has changed too much in those months, although I feel quite different about it.  I guess you could say that I'm no longer an oral virgin, but you already knew that if you read my previous story.  I had an active summer vacation and a rather busy first couple months of my sophomore college year.  If I put notches in my bed post for each time I've exchanged blow jobs with some cute guy, I'd be down to splinters and a mattress by now.  But I've never engaged in the ultimate with a guy I love.

However, it's a sense that I might be getting close that brings me back to the keyboard at this time.  Six weeks ago, I briefly met this guy.  The conditions of the meeting are not important, especially since they're a little embarrassing.  He would have been one of the notches, if I went in for that sort of whittling behavior.

Four weeks ago, we enjoyed a spectacular day together as he spent a weekend at my campus, although he hadn't really come to see me.  We had coffee, bowled terribly, held hands throughout a mediocre movie and never got tired of talking in about twelve hours together.  Oh yeah, I could have taken one more notch out of my bedpost, and I haven't chipped away any more since with anyone.  I guess it was some sort of self-imposed chastity pledge.

In the past month, we've talked on skype every day and must have exchanged over a hundred texts.  But we haven't used the "L" word yet.  I know I feel very strongly about him, but I'm very stingy with the use of the word, love.  Besides, he is a high school junior, and I don't want to toy with him if all I'm feeling is lust.  He's an amazing guy, and I would rather hurt myself than take a chance on hurting him.

The battery on my laptop is starting to get low.  The power on these things never seems to last as long as they are supposed to.  Before I lose the ability, I want to tell you what I'm doing while I'm writing this little introduction.

I'm sitting next to an incredible looking guy who is driving his car to take me to his house for Thanksgiving.  No, the guy is not the one that I just wrote about.  This guy's name is Kevin, and it's his brother, Karl who is the object of my desire...and perhaps much more.

My brother, Jeremy, is on his way to the same house.  In fact, he'll probably be greeted by a house full of strangers before Kevin and I arrive.  Jeremy is spending Thanksgiving there because our parents are on another of their little vacations, so I asked if my brother from another college could join the Thanksgiving celebration at Karl, Keith (whom I haven't met yet) and Kevin's house so that he and I would be together.

On Friday, Jeremy, Karl and I will go to my hometown, a couple hours away in a different direction to relax for the rest of the weekend.

My screen just got very dim, so I don't have much power left.  I probably won't have time to write again until after I am back on campus.  I'll fill you in on the holiday festivities at that time.  Wish me luck!

* * * * *

Wow, what an amazing Thanksgiving, although it wasn't quite like we had planned.  There were some schedule changes, and the sleeping arrangement had shifted a bit from what Karl and I had expected.

When we pulled into the driveway of the Wilsons' rather typical suburban home, my brother Jeremy's car was there.  Jeremy and Karl practically sprinted out of the front door.

Karl and I threw our arms around each other and kissed maybe a little too passionately for the well lit neighborhood, but neither of us seemed to care about that.  While we were still slobbering all over each other, I heard our brothers introduce themselves to each other.

Karl grabbed my suitcase, so I carried one of Kevin's bags.  He was packed heavier than I was, since he had brought his laundry along.  Once we were in the living room, I met Karl's brother, Keith. Midway between Karl and Kevin in age, Keith was a freshman at a college in the South.  Once we were all inside and introduced, it was hugs all around.

One look at Keith confirmed my suspicion; all of the guys in this family could have been models.  Of course, in my mind, Karl was the most gorgeous, but I'm just a little prejudiced.  

I had just noticed the absence of the Wilson parents, when Kevin asked where they were.  Karl and Keith kind of talked over each other as they explained that we would have the house to ourselves for the holiday.

Early that morning some storms had moved through the region.  A little town a couple hours away had been devastated by a tornado, unusual but not unheard of at that time of year.  The boys' mother was a trauma physician and their father was a psychologist, so they had both volunteered to help Red Cross with the early relief efforts.

The parents would return home once other relief workers arrived, but they were sure that they would not return until Friday at the earliest.  That was the day that Karl, Jeremy and I were planning to head to my home for the rest of the weekend.  To be completely honest, that side trip was primarily so that Karl and I would be able to share a bedroom for part of the weekend.

Karl, Keith and Jeremy had already worked out the newly revised sleeping plans.  Karl and I would take the guest room, with it's queen bed; Jeremy would share Keith's room, since they were close in age and had gotten a chance to know each other, having both arrived early that day.  Kevin got to have his room to himself.  If the parents happened to come back early, we would simply switch to the more chaste sleeping pairings that we had earlier presumed, which meant Jeremy and I would be in the guest room.  Of course, the last time that my brother and I had shared a bed, it had turned out not to be all that chaste, but that was a one time thing under very unusual circumstances.

After I got my things stashed in the guest room, which took a lot longer than it should have since I was pleasantly interrupted about every twenty seconds by another caress or kiss from Karl, we returned to join the other guys in the living room.  Fittingly, Karl and I took the loveseat.

Keith, Kevin and Jeremy each had a beer.  Karl asked if I wanted something to drink.

"I'll take whatever you're having," I said, hoping that it would not be a beer, since I found the flavor barely tolerable.

He returned with two glasses of cola with ice.  I felt relieved that Karl didn't feel an artificial need to join in the alcohol.

The five of us talked well into the night.  As conversations go, sometimes all five of us would talk about the same topic, and at other times there would be two conversations occurring at once.  

There were extended moments during which my mind would drift, and I would completely lose the topic as I would just sort of stare around the room that was filled with mementos of each of the three Wilson boys.  There would be a picture here and a trophy there.  There was a frame on one wall that displayed a few red and blue ribbons, obviously awards of some sort.  

Interior decor was too important to my parents to have such things just arbitrarily placed around a public room.  Our living room was designed for the outside world; this one was decorated in the theme of "family."  It felt warm and welcoming, and my connection to Karl made me feel instantly a part of the environment.

At one point, I mentally rejoined the conversation when my brother spoke, and I couldn't figure out what he meant.

"Yeah, it like we're all connected to each other," he said.  "All connected to this long line, and none of us really know how long the line is."

I was lost.  Were they discussing string theory or something?

Then Karl chimed in with, "Lavender.  The line is lavender.  It's the long lavender line."

"What are you talking about?" I asked wanting to catch up despite my fatigue from the long trip.  "What line?  What lavender line?"

They all stared at me, obviously confused by my own confusion.

"Where have you been?" Karl asked.

"I guess my mind drifted," I explained.

"It's about sex," my brother explained.  "Hasn't Dad talked to you about the birds and the bees yet?"

"Yes, wise ass," I responded to Jeremy's tease.  "In my case though it was about the bees and the bees."

"Well, anyway," my brother continued, "Keith was telling us about his family's work in the landscaping business."

"What?" I asked, things not getting any clearer in my head.

Kevin chimed in to shed some real light on the topic at hand. 

"I started cutting this guy's lawn when I was sixteen.  When I went to college, the job went to Keith.  Then when Keith was getting ready to head off, he passed the job along to your boyfriend."

"Okay," I said.  "But I still don't see anything to do with a line.  I've never had a job mowing yards.  Hell, we don't even cut our own lawn."

"Well, they've only told you part of the story so far," Keith said, taking his turn.  "You see, after we were done with the lawn each week, we would get paid and then we'd get a tip."

"Or more accurately the owner would get a tip," said Jeremy, laughing.

"Yeah," Keith went on, joining in Jeremy's laughter.  "The tip was a blow job.  In fact, it was a pretty good blow job."

"I'll give him that," said Kevin.  "The guy knows how to give head, although I would rather have been getting it from his wife."

"Yeah, she's a hot one," Keith agreed.

I wondered whether Karl was still cutting this guy's lawn, but I figured that if it mattered it was better suited to a conversation with just the two of us.

"So once we had explained how all the Wilson boys have that connection, Jeremy explained how you two are more directly connected," Kevin said.

"Yeah, I told them about that time that I seduced you after I got shafted by the pregnant bitch," Jeremy said.

"You told them that?" I asked incredulously.  "I've never told anybody about that.  How much have you had to drink?"

"Enough to be open around friends, but not too much to have forgotten the details," Jeremy said.  "Relax.  Your boyfriend didn't seem to think it was weird."

"What's past is past," Karl said. 

"And we're just guessing, here, but we figure you and Karl may have connected those two separate lines on one or more occasions," Jeremy picked up where he left off.

"So, see there's this line that runs through all of us in this room," said Keith.

"And probably lots of others too, if I know my little brother," added Kevin.

"And it's a lavender line because the connection among us is ...well... homosexual," Karl added bringing it to an end.

We all seemed to decide at the same time that we were ready to call it a night.  I felt as if I could easily sleep for twelve hours, and I wondered if Karl would be willing to postpone any sexual part of our reunion until the next day.

The guest bed felt more comfortable than any I had ever experienced, but I suppose that was partly due to my exhaustion.  Karl had quickly agreed to my wishes that we postpone our physical reconnection for a time when I thought that I could perform a little closer to my admittedly relatively inexperienced standard.

We fell asleep facing each other in an embrace.  I thought at first that the position was a little awkward, but it must not have been.  It was starting to get light when I first awoke, and we were in the same position that we had originally occupied.

I knew that I wanted to go back to sleep for hours, but I first wanted to memorize the entire scene before me.  My boyfriend was inches in front of me, and the sight of him and his now messy hair made me smile with an intense interior pleasure.  

His breathing was rhythmic.  As I listened it took on a musical quality, primal music.  My own breathing soon mimicked his.

My hand and arm felt the smooth skin of his side and back.  I noticed that my hard penis was touching the tip of his, and the thought of it made me shiver.

I smelled his breath flowing softly into my nostrils.  Yes, it was morning breath, but I was so pleased to inhale his scent that I didn't care that it wasn't minty fresh.

I thought about kissing him lightly on his full, parted lips, but I knew that would wake him.  I wasn't quite sufficiently rested to do justice to the desires that I wanted to arouse in him.  Later.

I closed my eyes and slept another three hours.

When I next awoke, I had rolled over and was facing the other side of the bed.  Karl's arm still cradled my torso.  His still hard cock was resting comfortably against the upper part of my butt's cleavage.

I could tell by his breathing that he was awake as well.  I placed my hand on top of his as it rested lightly on my chest.  We didn't speak.

He applied pressure to signal me to face him.  I did, and we began the first of the day's many kisses.

When the kiss finally ended, I rolled back the other direction.  I reached behind me to pull him closer.  Then I moved my hips backward and forward against his, hoping that he would be able to read my signal that I was ready to fully lose my virginity.

I glanced over my shoulder to read his reaction to my unspoken request in time to see him pull an unwrapped condom and tube of lubricant from under his pillow.  He thoughtfully warmed the lube in his palm before putting it onto his finger tip to begin the slow process of working it into me.

I watched him again as he worked the condom down his rigid pole, a cock that now appeared much larger to me than it ever had before.  For a moment I wondered how I would be able to take it all inside me, but I knew that it was my fear that had made his dick appear so large.  Many men find a way to take in much larger appendages.

I was grateful to see that he applied copious amounts of the lube directly to his condom.  He wiped his hands on a small towel that he also removed from under his pillow.  I wanted to ask what else he had hidden away, but fought the urge to show off my morning sense of humor.

He worked his hand between my thighs to pull my lower leg upward, bringing my knee closer to my chest.  I brought the other leg up as well, but he pushed it back down to its original position.  I was grateful that he had more experience in these matters than I did.

I felt his cock head begin to push gently but insistently at my opening, except that my "opening" didn't really seem to be inclined to open.  Without reducing his pressure on my hole, he began to massage my stomach and chest with large, rhythmic circles with his hand.

I realized that I was beginning to relax and felt his first penetration.  The impossible now seemed entirely possible, but then I realized that he had not yet reached my sphincter.  He moved as slowly as a glacier, although with much more warmth.  Eventually he made contact with my gatekeeper, but Karl did not alter his approach.

As soon as Karl had achieved success in moving beyond the road block, he paused and did not resume his journey until my hand urged him on.  The brief period of rest had allowed me to regain the sensations in my body and, for the first time, stop worrying and start enjoying the whole process.

This entire time, Karl continued to make soft circles across my torso.  Once I felt his public hairs pushing firmly against my buttocks, he stopped his circular movement and grasped my cock which was fully rigid again after having withdrawn in a panicked reaction to the pain of the initial entry.

I welcomed his touch on my cock, but frankly most of my concentration was on the sensation of having Karl fully within my ass.  I had fantasized about this moment, but it was only slightly similar to what my imagination had constructed.  I was surprised, for example, by a feeling of complete control over Karl, a sense of heightened masculinity; although I am sure that such a statement would not make any sense to a straight man.

More as an experiment than for any other reason, I flexed my muscles.  My boyfriend responded with a quiet moan, or maybe it was more of a low pitched sigh.  The experiment showed me that my actions could heighten his pleasure, and it reinforced my notion of being the one in control.

At last he began the pumping motion that I had expected would characterize the experience.  From my perspective that moved the episode from intriguing to interesting to remarkable to indescribably fantastic!  Meanwhile it was as if my own cock, which was something of an afterthought for me, had begun to fuck the hole that he made with his hand, which he had coated with his saliva.

I was in a completely different world until he started to use his teeth to nibble on my ear, and then his tongue started lapping across my back.  At that time I disappeared completely, or so I felt.  It was as if I was nothing more than energy without matter.  Then I felt myself shooting through my own cock, landing with a soft splat on the floor and the sheet.  I felt a throbbing in my ass at the same time.

I was vaguely aware of a distant sound of moans and perhaps some swearing, although I'm still not sure.  It took a while to recognize that my energy was the source of those sounds, but not all of them I discovered.  I began to regain consciousness as I realized that Karl was screaming into my ear.

About fifteen minutes later we walked into the living room hand in hand to find Jeremy, Kevin and Keith just staring at each other.

"So, what have you boys been up to this morning," Kevin asked.

Then all three howled with laughter, as if this were the funniest thing that any of them had ever heard.

"Congratulations, bro," Jeremy said to me.

"Thanks," I replied with my face turning red.

Karl leaned in and kissed me on the cheek.

"Happy Thanksgiving," he said.

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