It was the start of tenth grade, and my life was going great. Most of my classes were honors classes, and I was becoming quite the class brain, but I was by no means a geek. In fact, I was one of the taller and more athletic class members, although I declined to participate in school sports. Karate was keeping me busy enough. I had just earned my second-degree black belt and was a full-time instructor. Jesus, those little six-year-old white belts are ANNOYING! I'll do a whole lot for $200 a week, though, considering I had to put in only 4.5 hours per week.
My love life wasn't half bad, either. I didn't even speak to Tom or James, and Sam and I `got it on' twice a week for three months now. Sam, besides being great in bed, was a really fun guy. He and I were nearly inseperable, both at and away from school. Everything was really hunky dory.
One friday as we were coming back from school to my house, we decided to go in and watch TV. Sam had somehow obtained a videotape that he said we should watch.
"And exactly what is on this tape?" I asked.
"You'll see, Christopher. Watch and learn."
(Narrator's note: To this day I have never been able to figure out the sex positions they were in on that tape.)
"Surely, Sam, you don't expect me to be able to do that."
"No, but doesn't it make you hot?"
"No, you do." I flashed an evil grin, leaned over, and put my lips on his. Sam had the sexiest nose. (Now if THAT isn't random...) As his lips parted, I thrusted my tongue between them and put my arms around Sam. He put his hand on my package and started rubbing me through my khaki pants. I was so turned on that I ripped off his shirt and ran my hands all over his smooth, chiseled chest. I moved my lips down, first to his neck and then to his nipples where by now he was moaning as we engaged in our lovemaking. After a few minutes, he was on top and his head came to rest on my neck.
"I love you, Christopher."
"And I you."
"Promise me that you'll never leave."
We kissed deeply again and fell asleep in each other's arms. When we awoke, it was to the sound of the front door opening. My mother came in and immediately dented the hardwood floors with her jawbone.
"What in the God Damn Fucking Hell is Shit Going On Here??"
(An old army movie, by the sound of things!)
"Gee, mom, I suppose a little explanation is in order."
"No shit, Sherlock. And you, 'Watson', put your clothes on."
Sam was quick to reply. "Yes'm."
The three of us walked into the dining room and sat down at the table.
"Mom, I'm, no, We're..."
"Gay. How stupid do I look?"
"Not stupid, mom. Angry, perhaps."
"Not so much because you're gay, Chris. Actually, I'm alright with that. It's the sex. You know how I feel about pre-marital sex. There IS a sexual relationship here, I assume."
Sam chimed in. "That would depend on what your definition of is is."
"Thanks, Bill." Ah. mom. Ever the comedian. "I'll rephrase. Have you had sex?"
In unison, "Okay, Mom," (sure, fine, whatever.)
About five minutes later, we were at Sam's house. HIS mother was fresh out of Catholic gential padlocks. (And I'm a Catholic, too, so I can make that joke.)
We flopped onto his bed, me on bottom. We started kissing and rubbing again, and a moment later, we were in a 69 position. As he opened my pants and vice-versa, we took each other's penises into our mouths and began to suck. It was an act of passion, an act of love. Love that I have never felt since.
Sam and I were truly made for each other. We were so in love that night, and the sex we had was just another way of expressing it. It eventually progressed to the point where, at 4 am and after orgasm #10 (yes, ten. Isn't that amazing? And in six hours! WHOA!) we fell asleep. I was holding him in my arms, and I never wanted to let go.
Yet, as they say, All good things must come to an end.
Send me a fucking email. That means you. No offense, Trey, but I'd
like more than one damn person to use this extremely convenient serivce.
A. T. (8/28/99)