I know, I know. I’m sorry it’s been a while but I had college problems again. You all understand, I’m sure.
This story may seem a little fragmented. That is because I really didn’t have any particular ending planned for this story so it was a little difficult to write when compared to some of the others I’ve written, even in this series. Please be gentle. I promise to have a more streamline story next time.
The following story is false. The names were not changed because they didn’t really exist. No one is innocent. If this story bears any resemblance to anyone, living or dead, it is purely coincidental and unintentional. If this story IS an accurate representation of you life, I greatly envy you. Good job. ;-) Except for the fact that one of them almost dies in every chapter. That would kinda suck. Anyway, note that although it is written in the first person, I am not really the narrator, as much as I would like to be.
Oh, also. Please understand if some of the logic in the story doesn’t make perfect sense. . . just ignore it. . . it’s fiction and I really have trouble separating what I wrote about and what I merely thought about writing about. ;-)
Anyway, comments, send to ZB1000@adelphia.net I will make it a point to respond to all appropriate e-mails. Criticism will be appreciated. Flames will be ignored. Yada yada yada.
Don’t read this story if it is illegal to do so in your location. This depicts sexual situations and acts between 2 consenting teenage males and it may be inappropriate for some readers.
I wrote this story because I don’t see many like it around. This is my first erotic writing but not, by far, my first time writing anything. I fully intend “The Boyfriend Chronicles: All the Way >From Aaron to Zach” to be a series. Each story is self contained but all of the stories in the series will contain the same characters and exist in a linear time line in the same fictitious universe.
And now, without further adieu, I bring on the teenage homoeroticism.
[t/t, romance, oral, anal]
The Boyfriend Chronicles: All the Way From Aaron to Zach.
_________________________ Story 6: School, Summer, and Work_________________________
Chapter 1 Chapter 1 Chapter 1 Chapter 1 Chapter 1 Chapter 1 Chapter 1 Chapter 1 Chapter 1
I was happy. I know that might seem like it should not be a big deal, but it was. I was happy. Really happy. Zach had gotten accepted to Ithaca and while we couldn’t room together, it was really no difference from our lives now. It was the beginning of June and graduation was only a few days away. Okay, 2 weeks away, but it didn’t matter. It was almost over. I would like to say that things got tough when we hit senior slide, but quite frankly, most of our teachers hit senior slide worse than us.
We had half days the entire week for finals and after a deviously tricky Biology exam on that Thursday, we decided to go out to the carnival that was in town. The Volunteer fire company, Station 14, was having it’s annual fireman’s carnival. It was small, but a lot of fun.
We didn’t really go on the rides. Let me rephrase that. “I” didn’t go on the rides. I hate rides. They’re expensive and all they do is spin me around and make me sick. Zach, on the other hand, must have had a test pilot in his family line because he actually likes being spun around until he almost pukes.
Margie and her girlfriend, Elaine, and Carlos were walking around with me. Zach was running around us like a little kid. . . well, at a carnival. It was amazing. I had never seen him this enthusiastic about ANYTHING in public. He was shouting and laughing. I guess that maybe he finally accepted his new life here as a safe one away from danger. . . Away from where showing any weakness could be. . . well, anyway. . .
I was saddened this year to learn that Mr. Wiblehurst had passed away. He was the owner of the carnival and had always made an effort to get to know his clientele. I remembered as a kid, getting candy and free tickets whenever he’d see me. He was a kind and gentle man of what can only be described as 103. In other words, his passing was not an unexpected event, nor would it have been at any time during the last 30 years.
Zach and Carlos decided to go on the “Spinning Fury” A.K.A. Deathtrap. It was a giant cylinder in which cars were attached in sequence. The cars would spiral all the way around the thing to the ground until it got to the bottom, at which time, it would shoot up the middle of the cylinder and start over. I wanted to throw up just thinking about it.
“Are you sure you’re okay being seen with me in public?” Margie asked. After a few minutes of watching Zach get flung around the cylinder a few times.
“Sure. It’s not like they might mistakenly label us as gay or anything. No one could make that by mistake now.” I laughed. “Us queers gotta stick together.” I said as I gently tapped her in the arm. “Anyway, we still have to decide.” I said to her. She instantly knew what I meant.
“Aaron, I would go in an instant, but Elaine’s mother still doesn’t know we’re together. How could she just go with us, five strangers, on a cruise for a week?” Margie said.
“I want to break it to her gently, hun.” Elaine said. “She’s very fragile right now after. . .” Elaine began but broke off.
Elaine’s brother, Vincent, owned a scuba diving store in some gulf coast city in Texas. A few weeks ago, he was diving when some yacht decided to anchor itself within a dive perimeter. When you dive, left, right, straight, and down are easy to see in. You will note that “up” is not in that list. He had just reached the bottom when the anchor, a 200 lb iron giant, came crashing down on him. It missed his head, but it struck the steel top of the tank where the regulator is attached. This is the weakest part of the tank and it instantly breached. 2,000 pounds per square inch of air poured out of the two cylinders and he jerked downward. Vincent struck the ground and was held there. Unable to get out of the way again, the anchor hit him in the head knocking him unconscious. He drowned a few moments later.
There was also a deeper secret involved. As I found out, much later than I heard about the incident, Vincent, Elaine’s brother, was gay himself and had been living with his college roommate for the last 5 years after college.
“Barry was a total wreck and he turned to me since he had no one else to talk to.” Elaine had said when she told us. “We cried with each other over the phone for days. They were in real love and I almost feel that he misses Vincent more than I do.”
Margie grabbed Elaine’s hand and held it for a moment. “I know, sweet. Nobody’s going to force you to do anything you’re not ready to do.” she said back in the now.
“We can start hanging around together more visibly.” I said. “You know, not be strangers.” I said.
“Aaron, I can’t tell her that yet. I said. . .” Elaine began but I cut her off.
“We’re friends. That’s all she has to know, for now.” I said. “When you’re ready, you tell her the whole truth. Besides, it’s not like we’re lying to her.” I added.
“Hey, look. Trying feebly to pick up some girls?” came a smirk behind me. I knew that voice, but gone were the days when I was afraid of a pathetic nobody like I was about to come across again.
“We both know, Terrence, that I could have had more girls than you ever could.” I said. “If I chose to.” I added. It was Terrence Delwitz. You’ll remember him from the little altercation he and Zach had in the parking lot after school the day me and Zach were found out.
“Where’s your little faggot boyfriend?” he asked ignoring my previous remark. Now, I am not one to be offended by being called things. Fairy, queer, gay, homo, and fag were all common words that I was identified by. I didn’t even mind them, most of the time. I’ve even been called a queen on occasion, and though it’s not accurate, I simply let it go. But there is one word that boiled my blood. That just gets under my skin. I hate being called a faggot. I’m going to repeat that so it’s emphasized. I HATE being called a faggot.
I could not let him know this, of course, otherwise I would hear it all the time, so I simply shot back my own remark. “Hey, everyone. Look. The little jock learned a new word all by himself. Isn’t that so sweet. See, I told you they can learn like other people.” I mocked. “Would you wike a cookie as a weward?” I asked. In a baby voice.
“You’re boyfriend isn’t here to save you this time, faggot.” he said getting mad as he slowly came towards me.
“I don’t need him to deal with the likes of you, anymore.” I resounded. “You gonna get beat up by TWO different queers within 3 months? Try explaining that one to your friends.”
He was scared. He wanted to leave and walk away. He was dying to just leave and walk away. His pride made him keep walking towards me anyway. Then, suddenly, to his relief, a yell called to him. “Delwitz, you causing trouble again?” It was a stern but younger voice. A young man in his middle twenty’s stepped into view. He wore black pants and a grey shirt. There was a silver badge on the shirt.
“No, officer Bright, I was just getting ready to throw some worthless trash out of the carnival for ya.” Terrence said.
“Really? Well, I doubt the carnival would say that these fine young paying customers were a problem. Mean while, if they knew that you and your two buddies, wherever they ran off to, had climbed over the back fence without paying, I bet there would be some trouble.”
“I didn’t clime over any fence, officer.” Terrence replied.
“Really? Then why did I find the missing part of your left trouser leg stuck in the wiring behind the wipe-out?” he held up a piece of fabric the size of a credit card. It’s pattern matched Terrence’s pants perfectly, as well as fit like a puzzle piece at the very bottom where there was a chunk torn off.
“I, um. . . “ he stammered. But the police officer simply pointed to the front gate.
“Just save yourself the trouble right now.” he said still pointing. With a look of furry, Terrence turned and left.
“Someone saw him clime over the fence from the top of the Ferris wheel.” Officer Bright said. “But the evidence mad it a lot more fun. So what are you doing standing around here, for? Go play on some rides.” he said with a smile.
“Oh, We’re waiting for my boyfriend to get off the deathtra. . . I mean Spinning Fury.’ I replied.
“Ah.” he said a little hesitant. “Well, stay out of trouble.” he said before he turned and walked away.
I blushed and shrunk to the size of an ant. He wasn’t in our school. The word hadn’t spread as quickly outside of school as I thought it would. He didn’t know about us. “He didn’t know, did he?” I asked. Margie.
“I just outed myself to a total stranger, didn’t I?” I turned to Carlos.
“Yup.” he replied.
“This gay thing isn’t as easy as it looks.” I said.
We finally decided that we would start to publicly hang out together more often. Elaine even told her mother that we had become friends. This caused only a small amount of trouble in the household. I was one of “Those Gays.” They were fine and dandy in American TV. They were in collages. They were seeping into everywhere. That was fine. . . as long as your son or daughter wasn’t one.
The next Monday was senior day. It basically meant that we went to “lectures” instead of classes. They were usually peaching to us about driving and college and safe sex. The AIDS lecture did give me a lot of useful information on safe sex practices.
Me and Zach didn’t use condoms. In our mind, we had no reason to since we had been each other’s firsts, but if we knew then, what we knew now, we definitely would have. It’s a terrible thought to have, but we left the lecture a bit more wiser and a bit more the better for knowing. Not that it mattered at this point. We were each other’s firsts and each other’s lasts.
After the torturous lectures, we had almost free reign of the school. We could play basketball in the gym, baseball or soccer in the fields outside, or even ballroom dancing in the cafeteria. Me and Zach decided to go swimming. As I got changed, I noticed that Charlie Barnet was changing right across from us. I know I shouldn’t have looked but he had an incredible body. He had a defined but not pumped body. Blond hair (yes, the drapes matched the carpet.) Blue eyes. And a dick I could drool over. As he pulled up his bathing suit, I snapped back to reality and finished changing myself.
I knew Charlie wasn’t gay. He was the biggest redneck I have ever met. He even spoke with a southern accent, for Christ’s sake! I remember hearing stories that he would go shooting with his friends and drink beer into the night while firing at anything that moved. He wasn’t bright by any means, but by changing right in front of us, he made me realize one important thing. Things were getting back to normal, for a while, at least.
We entered the pool area and I took the opportunity to talk to Zach. “You know, you can still go do something else.” I said. Zach grew up in Miami but would you believe that he didn’t know how to swim? Yah, that’s what I said. We had signed up for swimming lessons at the local YMCA but they wouldn’t start for a few weeks. It was kinda funny. I had never spent an entire swimming hour in the shallow end. We mostly wadded around and talked.
“I’d say he was a B-. Maybe a B.” Zach said. We had a little scale for grading the “Hotness” of the cute guy we came across. We were referring to Charlie at the moment.
“What if you don’t count his face?” I asked. Charlie didn’t have a great face, at least not to ‘our kind.’ His girlfriend seemed to like it quite a bit because his face was always mashed into hers lip-locked.
“Then, maybe a B+.” he said reluctantly. “But definitely not an A.” I was an A on his scale and he was an A on mine. It’s funny how neither of us thought of the other as an A+ but we decided to keep ourselves reserved, just in case we saw a REALLY UNBELIEVABLY FUCKING CUTE GUY. And I do mean that in caps.
After we finished “swimming,” we got dressed again and made for the commons. We were allowed to leave at any time after noon on senior day. It was 1:30 and since we didn’t have anything else to do, we signed ourselves out.
It was warm out, nearly 85 degrees. That morning, Zach had gotten dropped of at my house by his mother on her way to work and we walked the rest of the way to school. As we made our way back home that afternoon, I was overcome by a sudden sense of nostalgia. The last time we had walked to my house together from school had been our first “date,” if you can call it a date. It was probably the most spur of the moment thing either of us had ever done in our entire lives, but I never regretted it for a second and I’m fairly sure that he didn’t either.
When we got back to my house, I was overcome with emotion and we sat on the couch downstairs just kissing and giggling at each other.
We graduated on June 12th. It was a Thursday. Our school colors were Blue, Orange, and Black so at graduation, we all wore the correct colored gowns. Guys were supposed to wear Blue while the Girls were supposed to wear Orange. When me and Zach showed up on Thursday morning, we found that the day we signed the list to order gowns, someone had crossed out our “Blue” request and wrote in “Orange.”
We thought it was funny until the secretary said that they didn’t have any extra blue ones. >From what I heard later, the superintendent wanted to remove us from the ceremony however, the principle refused to have us left out. We were told that we could either go home and change into suits or wear the orange gowns.
My suit was at the cleaners because of an unfortunate accident involving a frog and KY-Jelly. It happened at the Memories presentation and it was a prank on me. I would elaborate on it but, quite frankly, the details are a little bit sketchy to me too. We wore the orange gowns.
The ceremony itself was long and boring. The Superintendent gave his speech and included bits on “traditional lifestyles” and how they were better than “other” ones. The guy just never quit.
As I went up for my diploma, I was expected to shake hands with the superintendent. I simply slapped his hand away from me and moved on to the next person I was supposed to shake hands with. As I paused for the picture, I turned to him and kindly asked if he would mind stepping out of the picture. He was furious, but I refused to move on until he complied. Zach just dismissed him by waving his hand into the air in a, well, dismissive gesture.
After the ceremony, while the two of us were standing with out parents, the Superintendent came up to us and started on us about how we were disrespectful to him on stage. After a few moments, my father finally stepped in.
My father is not what you would call an outspoken person. He is very subdued unless he needed to be otherwise. After a few minutes of be talked down to, he opened up wide. I actually had to step back, the shouting was so loud. I thought my father was going to hit him. He was literally screaming at the man, who just stood there and took it because he was too intimidated to do anything else. My father vowed on the spot to run for the school board in an effort to fire him from his position.
“To think that a man with that degree of prejudice is in charge of deciding the policies of our children is intolerable.” he said later to the local TV reporter. There had been a news crew there to cover the graduation to show with all the others in a quick segment on the 5 o’clock news. They got much of his yelling on tape and decided to interview him too so they didn’t make him look like an idiot unless he really was one. Luckily he was not. “A man with that little sense of professionalism should not be in any position of authority. At my bank, we don’t even let people like that clean the bathrooms.”
We got back home just in time to see my father on the six o’clock news being interviewed. Zach and myself got into bed and leaned against the backboard. With a flick of the remote, the outside camera came on. “What are you doing?” Zach asked me. “I didn’t even think that thing worked.” he said.
Suddenly, the screen flickered into focus. A green field with the occasional dandelion came into view. “Aaron, what are we looking at?” he asked.
“You know when you stand in my front yard you can see that small green spot on the mountain across the valley?” I said.
“Yes?” he replied.
“Work it out from there, hon.” I said. “All I’m gonna say is thank god for the telezoom.”
“Okay, what are we supposed to be trying to find?” he asked.
“I’m getting there.” I said. I began pushing buttons on the remote as the image pulled away from us as I reduced the zoom. “There was a small piece of information that I heard from a friend of a friend of a friend of a. . . well, you get the idea.” The image moved around a bit before closing in on a clearing in the woods that surrounded the entire valley.
Finally, after a few minutes of playing, I got the image I wanted. On the screen, I could see 15 or 16 people walking around and 3 or 4 trying to get a campfire started. “I found out where the senior party is being held.” I said.
Zach shook his head and sighed. “You gonna turn them in?” he asked me.
“No, no.” I replied. “I hate quite a few of them, but most of them are just ignorant. I wouldn’t rat them all out. I’m supposed to be the better girl.” I said. “However, I can have some leverage with these photos if they get on our case again.” I smiled.
“Oh?” Zach said. “Is that the only reason?”
I blushed. “And Jonathan Farly has the habit of taking his cloths off when he’s smashed. He’s at least a B+” Zach took the remote out of my hand and switched the TV back to the map image of Middle Earth that is displayed when the TV is off. Zach put his arm behind my back and pulled my face to his. In an instant, he began to nibble at my lips.
“Pervert.” Zach said between kisses.
“Oh? I saw your collection of Abercrombie catalogs.” I replied. “As well as that photo of your old school’s swim team. I helped you clean your room around my birthday, remember?” I kissed him back
“How could I forget? It was the day Kenny Fisher spotted us through my window.” He laughed. We weren’t pained by being out anymore. The worst of it was over forever. It was all down hill from here.
Chapter 2 Chapter 2 Chapter 2 Chapter 2 Chapter 2 Chapter 2 Chapter 2 Chapter 2 Chapter 2
We were able to get Elaine’s Mother to allow her to go on the cruise. The trouble was, that her mother didn’t know Zach and myself were also going. Only Margie, Elaine, and Carlos were officially going. Luckily, her mother trusted her enough to not pry into the whole ordeal.
Yes, I know it sounds sneaky and underhanded, but you have to realize the world that exists when your parents are homophobic. It’s a dark existence, knowing that the possibility exists for your own parents to hate you. Thank whatever God is up there that I never had any kind of problems like that.
We found a really nice cruise that hadn’t been fully booked for the end of July. I would like to say that it was a gay theme cruise to the Bahamas. I would like to say that it was full of hundreds of hot, young, queer eye candy. I would even like to say that there would be ANYTHING EVEN REMOTELY GAY about it. I can’t. The theme was, well, err. . . Science fiction. Hey, it was all we could get. It’s not that I dislike Sci-Fi. It’s just that, well, what image do you get when you picture Sci-Fi geeks? Well, me too.
It was nice to have finally graduated from High school. I had no responsibility, no school work, and all the time in the world to myself, if I wanted. Yah, right. The first thing my parents made me do was get a job for the summer.
Keffer Pools. I really used to like swimming, but after my first week there, I dreaded any talk of anything that even remotely resembled a pool. I even had to leave the room one night when my parents were talking about their cousin “up the lake.” Perhaps I was overdramatizing it all a little bit, but hey. It was my first real job.
Zach had gotten a job too. He took a waiter’s job at some classy restaurant a few miles out of town. He had to drive nearly 45 minutes to get there every day, but he would easily leave with $300 after 6 hours of work on a weekend. $150 on a week day. I was a little pissed off at this, but it was nice to see Zach having a little more money for himself. It would make shopping for him during the holidays a tad more difficult, but I’d get over it.
He showed up at my house after I had gotten off of work one day 2 weeks into our employments. He was home an hour earlier than he would have been. He was covered from head to toe with spaghetti sauce. “Bastards.” he said as he stormed through my front door.
“What the hell happened to you?” I asked as I closed the door behind him.
“I’ve had the day from hell.” he said quickly. He was definitely showing his gay side very prominently. He was even making weird motions with his hands. That was usually an indication that he was really frazzled. He always hated it when he acted like that so he usually concentrated on himself enough to catch whenever he did it. “My keys fell into the garbage disposal when I reached over the sink for some hand soap. My pants split while reaching under the counter for a dropped spoon.” he said showing me his blue underwear visible from behind when he walked just the right way. “And some fucking little bastard kid threw his spaghetti all over me and to top it all off, his fucking parents gave me a 1% tip for not bringing the little fucker a refill in a timely manner.” He threw his hands up into the air. “I only made it here because I carried a spare key for my car in my wallet. Since I didn’t have a change of cloths, I had to leave after the fuckers went on their merry way.”
He put his hand on his forehead. “I’m sorry, for all this, but can I borrow the spare house key I gave you? I need to get home to clean up and then get the sauce out of my car seat.”
I took his hand and started pulling him behind me. “Shower.” I said. “Now.”
“But I don’t have any cloths here.” he began.
“No one’s home. Parents at work. Doesn’t matter.” I replied.
“How am I going to get home?” He demanded.
“I’ll get you home. Don’t worry.” I said.
I led him upstairs however, I continued past the main bathroom and into my parents bedroom.
“Um, what are we doing?” he asked me but I continued the last 10 feet and opened their bathroom door. Inside was a toilet, 2 sinks, a shower, and a linen closet. “Is there something wrong with the other shower?” he asked. I then opened the linen closet. He then dropped his jaw and his eyes glazed over slightly while his head cocked 1 or 2 degrees to the left.
“What the hell is that?” He asked.
I took him over to the tall glass structure that was in the room which was increasingly less and less like a linen closet. “This is the jet shower.” I said as I turned the small valve that began heating up the water. “We got it 2 years ago when my father hurt his back doing some yard work. Now, we don’t use it very often because it wastes an awful lot of water. You can also get sick of it pretty easy if you have sensitive skin like mine and my mothers.” I said. I then gently unbuckled his pants.
“Did this kid have a squirt gun full of tomatoes?” I asked him. “There’s sauce all over everything. There’s even some in your underwear!” I exclaimed. I pulled his pants down to his ankles and tossed them into the laundry shoot as soon as he had stepped out of them. This left him in his white tuxedo shirt and blue briefs. I lifted up his shirt to reveal a slight dribble of sauce going down his chest. The skin was also slightly red underneath. “Did you get burned?” I asked as I stood up.
“Yah, I guess I did. It’s nothing.” he replied in his “manly” tone.
“Oh, my poor baby.” I said as I took his mouth into my own.
Without breaking our embrace, I undid my own belt and I let my shorts fall to the floor, taking my boxers with them. I then unbuttoned his shirt and threw it too, into the laundry shoot. I then pushed him into the open door and after a quick rush to get undressed as well, I joined him inside. Then, with a turn of a knob, the water came on.
It was a little strong at first, but after a moment, the gentle water patterns began working their magic into my skin. I clutched Zach in my arms and gently caressed his ass with my hands.
I dropped down to my knees and felt his bulge through his soaking wet briefs (okay, I’ll admit it. Wet briefs are a minor fetish of mine.) I slowly put my fingers into the waistband and gently pulled them down revealing his manhood. With a deep breath, I took it all into my mouth. To me, there is no greater feeling than sucking on the penis of the one you love. The water was pounding me in the back of the head but it didn’t matter. . . I was in heaven with his dick in my mouth. With a swift motion, his briefs were gone.
I bobbed up and down on his pole admiring the sweet taste of precum in my mouth and the musky scent of his balls in my nose. With a whimper from above me, I realized that he was climaxing. Suddenly, gush after gush of his spooge entered my mouth and I swallowed what seemed like a gallon, but even so, globs dripped down my cheeks.
He grabbed my shoulder and guided me to a standing position before he kissed me, not caring that my mouth was still full of semen. I then, realized that he was hard again.
“Ready for more?” I asked.
“No, I’m not. That’s disgusting.” he said sarcastically. I helped him into a sitting position on the floor of the stall and I then sat on his stomach just above his hot rod. Our bodies had shielded each other’s fronts from the bast of the water, so I was able to wipe some of the cum off of my face and massage it into my anus. I then gently rocked forward, adjusted him, and then rocked back onto his dick.
It too was still covered in cum which provided more than enough lubrication than we could need. He started to buck his hips but I put my hands on his chest to keep him still. He had the hard day at work, now, I was going to take the work out of the fun.
I plunged my tongue into his mouth as I rocked back and forth on his tool. I was working my own meat which was stiff as steel the entire time, while I let Zach tickle my prostate with his boy toy. I “hopped” up and down and for each plunge down, I gasped and whimpered a bit.
The water was shooting at me from all direction and my skin was getting a little tender, but I couldn’t stop now. I was loving it way too much. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity of pleasure, I felt his warm spew in my ass. I clenched down and milked it all out with my butt, just how I knew he liked it.
I rolled off him and he then flopped over and finished me off with a blow job from heaven. I came in his mouth and he swallowed every drop he could. Needless to say, it was a good time.
The next day, I drove him home before I had to be in at work. He was wearing a pair of my jeans, a pair of my underwear, and a t-shirt. That night, when he was over my house again, he asked me if he could take another shower. I said yes. ;-)