Date: Fri, 13 Dec 2002 15:59:26 -0500
From: reed@dreamwriter.us
Subject: BURRHEAD, Chapter 1, The Man in the Moon

WARNING: This story contains sexually-explicit information involving
alternative sexualities. Do not list read the contents if they will offend
you. If accessing this story causes you to break local laws (village, town,
city, county, province, state, or country, etc.), please leave now.

This story is for you, Mike. I hope it finds its way home.

Chapter 1. THE MAN IN THE MOON

"Have you ever sucked anyone's dick?"

This is my best friend, Mike, asking something I'm completely not
expecting. We talk about sex all the time, but sex is something that
happens with girls. Any one of the guys I know will say "Suck my dick" or
"eat my ass" the same way we say "fuck you" when we're horsing around. But
this is different; Mike's never said anything to make me think he knows
some guys actually do it with each other.

Ever since we met at the beginning of the school year, Mike and I have been
practically inseparable. No one really understands why, including me. He's
captain of our high school basketball team...and the swim team; he's
drop-dead funny; he's the bad boy that everybody loves. I came here from
another school where being smart was a bigger deal than being good at
sports, and I don't know many people. I have to take two Senior classes to
keep up with the work I was doing before, so I'm not even with the rest of
my grade part of the time. It turns out that Mr. Popular Jock and Mr. Latin
Club play really well together. The same things make us laugh like maniacs,
and we both need to be bad, and to us it doesn't matter that he loves
sports as much as I love to read.

Mike's goal in life is to get into his girlfriend Jessie's pants. He hasn't
gotten to second base yet, but she doesn't have a chance of keeping her
cherry. I have a girlfriend, too, Lena, from my old school. She's
incredibly cool and fun, and I'm crazy about her, but she won't even let me
kiss her that often. Lena's scared of sex -- really scared -- but she talks
a good game. She likes to tease Mike about having sexy feet (they're so
long his toes could be a kid's fingers). When I admit it to myself, I think
Mike has sexy everything. He's six-three, all arms and legs, hands and
feet, always in motion. He has short-cropped black hair (I call him
Burrhead half the time), heavy eyebrows that nearly meet in the middle, a
really deep voice, and the biggest smile you've ever seen. He's not the
most handsome guy at school, but he's the reason they invented the word
"hot."

Tonight Burrhead and I are sitting in a clearing in the woods behind my
house, watching the moon rise and talking about all the things we want when
we're old enough leave home. When, out of nowhere, he asks me if I've ever
done it to a guy, I don't even bother to think this might be some kind of
trap. My head swims for a second, and I say, "Yeah, I have." My tone of
voice is supposed to be like "I'm cooler than you." I expect him to say,
"Eat my ass, man. You have not!" But he doesn't say anything.

I could die now, right? Maybe I could become a firefly and buzz off.

"Have you?" I ask, trying to keep my voice level.

He studies his bare knees for a long time before he finally mutters, "Uh
huh," nodding his head. Then he looks up and breaks into that huge grin.

"Goddamn, Reed, you been holdin out on me! Why didn't you tell me, man?
When I stayed with you last time your folks were out of town, I dropped all
kinds of hints. Why'd you think I got in bed with no clothes on? But you
didn't even touch me; you just went to sleep like you didn't give a shit. I
was so fuckin horny I jacked off right there next to you. I thought about
wiping the cum on your underpants."

"Wow! I had no idea. I didn't know you wanted to do anything."

"Yeah, well I do."

Before I can say, "Holy shit!", I'm lying on my back looking up at the moon
framed by the cheeks of Mike's ass, his hardon inches above my mouth. Spiky
tendrils of hair point from his crack to the stars before they spread into
soft fur across his backside. I think, "I will remember this forever." I
wonder what he's thinking. What I know is that he's going down on me like
he's starving to death, making me afraid he might swallow my dick
whole. It's so overwhelming I can't tell for sure whether I like it or not.

I'm more interested in him than I am in me. I pull his foreskin back and
forth over the head of his dick, amazed that we're so different, fascinated
by this new feeling of a silky sheath cocooning a hardon. I lick the tip,
surprised by something salty and sticky that tastes good. That's it. I grab
a mound of his ass with each hand and steer him as far into my mouth as I
can.

I don't know what to make of the smell of his crotch, which I sort of love
and which sort of repulses me because it smells so much like boy, but he
tastes great, and I like the way his body feels hovering over mine, a tent
of muscle, sinew, bone. I knead the small of his back, his ass, the backs
of his long thighs. He's sucking me more gently now, so I can concentrate
on how much I want him. When I pull him too far toward the back of my
throat, I can't breathe, but I am happier than I can remember ever being. I
could do this forever.

Well, maybe -- my jaw is starting to ache.

"I don't want to swallow your cum," I tell him. "I've never done that."

"That's okay," Mike says. "I don't really like the taste either, but we
better do something else before it's too late."

He rolls off me, and we sit facing each other with our legs open in a
tangle of knees and thighs, our dicks as close together as we can get them,
jacking each other off. Mike's is long and rock-hard under that oh-so-soft
skin. When he leans his forehead against mine, I can feel him
sweating. There is nothing but the steady "plat, plat, plat" of our hands
stroking each other's cocks and the acceleration of our breathing.

"I'm gonna cum, Reed," he whispers; "Don't slow down; I'm gonna cum!"

His body jerks three times...four...five, shooting pearls onto my stomach
and chest, dripping them over my hand. He grabs me by the back of the neck,
pressing my skull hard against his, and pounds my dick with his left hand
until I shoot too -- which takes about ten seconds. Then I'm so sensitive I
have to shove his hand away. We break out laughing, our sweaty faces so
close together I can taste his breath.

Mike lets out a whoop that echoes in the trees. Then he growls, "I can't
believe you made me wait so long for that," and cuffs me. He's beaming his
wide smile, so many luminous teeth.

"You are beautiful," I think. What will you be like tomorrow when I'll want
you even more than I do now? Will you pretend you don't remember? Will you
hate me?

.....

At school, Mike is Mike, punching me in the shoulder with his usual, "Hey,
Reed! Whassup?"

"Burrhead! Damned if I know. I went for a walk in the woods last night, and
I woke up this morning with a sore jaw."

"Too bad, man. Must be something you ate." Grinning his ass off.

"Not sure. Maybe I'll have to eat some more and see if I can get used to
it."

He laughs. For a second there's a light in his dark eyes that makes me want
to laugh back - and shout and cry. It's like he's completely with me and
completely far away.

"I gotta go catch Jessie", he says. "She's waiting for me at her locker."

.....

Feel free to send comments and constructive criticism to
reed@dreamwriter.us.