Chapter 24: Keith the Drum Major

When I started writing my memories one at a time, from my lust-crazed adolescence, I had no idea I would remember so much.

While most will find this tale erotic, I recognize it as the start of my descent into an addiction-based insanity, one where I could never get enough sex to satisfy me, and was never happy with what I got. In my public life I became a super-achiever, a pillar of the community and a devoted family man. But echoes of what was to come are found as hidden clues in this bizarre tale.  Still unable to accept myself as a gay young man, I was becoming wholly adept at leading a double life.  While I might have been meeting other like-minded guys in college, I avoided any social interaction there that might tarnish my reputation as a leader and a popular guy on campus. Instead, I was finding my thrills with the high school aged buddies of my six-year younger brother, Tad.


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My college summer preoccupation with Teddy was a wonderful escape for me... he, an innocent and eager lad in search of sexual adventure, me, a guy looking for escape from my current pressing reality of trying to be straight when I clearly wasn't, a reality I should have recognized but chose to ignore as it barreled down on me like a loaded truck without brakes. I didn't want to be a freak. I wanted with all my heart to be straight and be able to live a happy, normal life. I wanted to be married and to have kids. I wanted to have a good job and have a life with nothing I had to hide. I didn't want to live a life where I had a secret boyfriend named Bruce whom I shamefully left at home when I went to company functions alone, pretending instead that I was unmarried simply because I was a swinging and selective bachelor. Looking back, I must have inwardly known with near certainty by this time I was gay... even though I absolutely refused to admit it to myself. Anyone who accused me of being gay was likely to get a punch in the nose. I knew that I'd need to find a life-long workaround to this perverted fixation because I had vowed to myself not end up a disappointing, homosexual failure.

One might enviously wonder how a guy could have so many sexual experiences with so many different willing partners all before the age of twenty. I'll tell you, looking backwards through the haze– and without any humor intended, that it wasn't easy at all. It required constant work, never letting up, without taking any breaks in the action. It meant literally trying to make eye contact with every single person I saw who was attractive to me (and also certainly many who were not) to see if I'd get a lingering glance in return. If he looked back, then it was on to Step Two: a shy "hi" and simple conversation. Step Three might be some mildly suggestive comments or very slightly off-color jokes, Step Four might be a well-placed and timed touch or two; nothing sexual, mind you, but a touch nonetheless just to see how he might react. Steps five through ten would be more of the same, but each escalating slightly with each turn of the crank, every click of the ratchet. Most potential conquests would derail and grind to a halt well before Step Ten... and I'd usually willingly let them go, not unlike a fisherman turning small fishes back into the ocean. The way I saw it, if someone didn't want to "play" with me, I wasn't into forcing anyone to do anything. That wasn't my style and it didn't turn me on. No, I wanted a willing partner, someone else who would edge across the line with me, someone whom I could share a dirty little secret with, maybe someone who felt the same emptiness inside as I did. There were plenty of these fish in the sea, I wagered.

When sexual thoughts and frequent masturbation are consistently driven by these kinds of compulsive feelings, I'd suggest it is no longer a good or healthy thing. I would plan out my conquests often keeping several balls in the air at once... one guy I might be at Step 4 with, another at Step 8, a third almost at Step 10. I'd have three more idling at Step 2. That way if one or more fell out, I'd still have at least someone left. And when that happened, I'd just move onto the next.

Real intimacy wasn't part of my game plan. Webster's definition of "intimacy" with another person would be defined by far more than just having hot sex; it would include thoroughly open truthfulness in a serious emotional relationship. I now believe one cannot have intimacy with another of one does not first have intimacy with one's self. And going by my total self-denial of my sexual orientation, I surely didn't have true intimacy with myself. Looking back, all the stories I have told, with a very few exceptions, involved treating my various relationships with other boys as purely physical dalliances in life's margins while supposedly on the way to the big dance. The big dance of course involved marrying a girl and learning to live straight.

Once as a sixteen-year-old High School junior in Social Studies class, a well-liked teacher asked us to each write on a piece of paper something that we were the most afraid of. Without hesitation, I scrawled: "I am afraid someone will find out I am gay." These words are significant to me in retrospect... notice that I didn't write: "I am afraid I am gay." No, I suppose I sadly already knew I was, at sixteen. Instead, I was more afraid that someone would find out that awful truth about me. The teacher asked us to pass the papers in and to my heart pounding horror he began to read from them aloud. My blood pressure blasted into the stratosphere in an instant.

"I am afraid of spiders, " he read, shuffling the deck. "I am afraid of dying in a fire."

I sat paralyzed and felt as though my head would explode. It was just like I had just given someone a loaded gun and allowed him to point it between my eyes. I put my head down on my arms and began to quietly hyperventilate, preparing for the imminent shameful exposure of my secret life and the resulting violent end of my normal-appearing one.

"I am afraid of death by drowning. I am afraid of my parents getting divorced..."

He didn't read mine. I don't know if he didn't get to it or if his sense of decency prevailed when he did. But my life was spared another day.

I could honestly say to you that no girl has ever come on to me, never made a 'pass' in my direction in my life, because I have no recollection of such a thing ever happening. But I'm a reasonably good-looking guy and in all likelihood, I logically know that it certainly must have happened many times. However, being tuned to a totally different frequency I just never responded with the signals that would have caused any female to go on any further than her own "Step Two" with me. Face it– I was tuned to AM, and the girls were sending signals on FM. One can't hear the music if the radio isn't turned on.

So, while I am being so self-critical, let me try and examine what happened between Teddy and me that summer day that we took this path together. When Teddy was first staring at me, and I beckoned him to sit with me, I took Step One. I took Step Two by initiating a friendly conversation with him about school. I moved on to Step Three by encouraging the conversation about him sleeping over. In Step Four I touched his bare legs.... I encouraged his admissions about sex in Steps five and six, and before long a sexual proposition had been offered and just as soon was sealed.

In the same vein, most straight guys would swear on their lives that never has another guy made a pass at them... but I propose to you it's all the same. Why, a straight guy would have stopped with Teddy at "Step Two" at the latest. The straight guy would never have known Teddy's intentions to be anything other than friendly. But because of the frequency my brain was tuned to, I knew better... that we were both looking for the same things, and I could tell this without a trace of doubt, based on my experience and intuition. So, I started with "Step One" and I didn't stop till I had him completely undressed and in bed with me, which in this rare case from start to finish took less than an hour.

Oh, I surely knew how to start things. But, truthfully, I was finding I didn't know how to stop.

One can say that no harm was done. One can throw off cliché phrases like "It takes one to know one", or "it takes two to tango", and to me sex was just a sport, a game, and a pastime where all was fair and all was in fun. After all, it was only mutual masturbation I craved, arguably the most juvenile of sexual activities, nothing really heavy. I usually didn't allow my deeper emotions to intrude. I saved my real passion for more important things, like sports or schoolwork. Sex with other guys was my release, a harmless, playful avocation. And the risk of being found out; the thrill of doing things so forbidden and taboo right under the noses of people who thought they knew me well was what really lit my fire. Showering secretly with Teddy in the hall bathroom while members of my family walked freely around the house gave me an incredible kinky thrill. I got a rush from hearing my mother talking to my brother right outside the closed door as I bid Teddy to kneel directly in front of me and do specifically what I asked him to do to with my sensitive parts so close to his face as we toweled off together, then watched him lustfully as he eagerly complied.

Before long, I guess Tad more or less surrendered to sharing Teddy with me, deciding not to put up a fight. It could have happened for any number or reasons, I'll fathom. For one, Tad was still getting "his". I knew Teddy didn't stop fooling around with Tad even though he had a newfound fascination with me. More than once that summer I walked in on the two of them "accidentally" as they quickly straightened their clothes and tried their best to look innocent though Teddy's flushed, fair face always gave them away. Or, more probably Tad was unwilling to face the reality of his feelings for other guys much the same as me, and decided that a monogamous sexual relationship with Teddy was not something he consciously wanted to fight me for. Whatever the cause, Tad backed off and my affections with Teddy grew more open as the summer progressed.


But apparently someone else had noticed my relationship with Teddy; Tad had another friend, a puzzle of a boy, a sometimes silly but often dark and moody boy named Keith, and I'd sometimes see him narrowly eyeing Teddy and me as we interacted together, the two of us behaving perhaps just a bit too affectionately to a critically watchful eye.

Keith was a relative newcomer to Tad's band of friends. He was tall and lithe, with well-defined sinewy muscles banding his arms and legs, and almost no hair on his fair arms or legs, none on his torso. Keith' head was covered with a thick mat of tight dark brown curls; he had big dark brown eyes with long curly eyelashes and thick dark eyebrows. Keith was the drum major of the High School's marching band, a prestigious role in our community that meant that everyone in the school—and the town, for that matter, knew who he was. Dressed in his white drum major's uniform with the epaulets on the shoulders and the tall military style officers' hat, Keith made quite an impression; a tall, slim, clean-cut, striking figure with a loud authoritative whistle and a long silver baton, leading the huge well-drilled marching units each Friday night during football season under the bright lights. Never standing alone, pretty girls looking for his attention always surrounded Keith. He was the all-American boy, the kind of kid you'd be thrilled to have your sister date, the kind of guy you'd be proud to have as a buddy.

Here's a twist: Keith had an older brother—a much, much older brother named Hunter, older even than ME by almost four years. I met him when I was in Cub Scouts over a decade before, and I had felt such a strong crush on him as a small boy. Hunter was a tall trombone player who eventually became a successful professional musician. As an early adolescent he was gangly and awkward, not especially handsome with very blotchy skin, but he was somehow unexplainably very sensuous to me when I was only a lad of 10 or so. I didn't know about sex, so I would fantasize innocently of him becoming my special friend without attaching any sexual implications to the scenario. He wore thick, black framed glasses, and for some reason I (almost erotically) yearned to see him take off his glasses just for me. I'd try to hang with him on camping trips, and shyly asked him to help me lace my skates when the Cub Scouts had gone ice-skating way back when I was in the fourth grade, though I certainly knew how to lace them myself. I knew only that I wanted to be special friends with Hunter, which was highly unlikely because he was so much older than me. I silently hoped that someday maybe we might be assigned to sleep in a tent next to each other alone, and that maybe he'd reach over to hold me close to him in the dark while we went to sleep. But none of this was to be, as Hunter was clueless, oblivious to pedestal I had placed him on. Young Keith was a full ten years younger than his brother Hunter, but the family resemblance between them at this High School age was striking. I can't say that this fact was a turn-on for me, only that it was a curious circumstance, given the events that followed.

I was home for the summer from college, and had a summer job at the bank that required me to be up and out of the house eight o'clock in the morning. Getting dressed and ready for work, lost in my thoughts, I opened the door and walked into the family den early one morning to get a tape for my car player, and was stunned by what I saw in front of my eyes.

There on the floor, on top of Tad's sleeping bag were Tad and Keith. Tad lay on his stomach in just his white undershorts while Keith lay on top of Tad's back, also wearing just his tight white undershorts, grinding his pelvis into Tad as they lay in an embrace. I froze and saw that Keith had his arms wrapped around Tad's bare shoulders. The sudden sound of the door opening caused Keith to panic, and he scrambled off of Tad's back to lie beside him, quickly hiding his face in the blanket. Speechless, I picked up my tape cassette, mumbled a hasty apology and quickly exited the room.

Driving to work my mind spun replaying the scene I had just witnessed. I couldn't get the sight of the two nearly naked boys embraced together on the den floor out of my mind! It had never occurred to me that Tad had something going with yet another one of his friends besides Teddy, let alone popular, clean-cut, tough and boyishly masculine Keith. I wondered exactly what they were doing, what they had done together the night before, what they had been doing together the past whole year, and I wondered what they did after I had left the room that morning.

That night when we were alone I addressed Tad, "Sorry about this morning..." I said, "I didn't mean to..."

"We weren't doing anything!" Tad said defensively, blushing red. "My back hurt and Keith was just pushing on it to make it feel better, that's all!" I didn't want an argument. But Tad's strong reaction to my attempted apology was highly intriguing to me.

"But Tad, I don't care if..." I started again

"Like I told you we weren't doing anything!" Tad defended again.

It was likely at that very moment that I unconsciously added Keith to my conquest "hit list" with a bullet. I wanted... no, NEEDED to know how far I could get with him. It was an erotic, forbidden game that I loved to play, and the stakes had just been raised.

As summer went on I began the steady, sure progression of seducing Keith. One night when Keith had joined my family at the seashore house, Tad, a few of his school pals and I were sitting in the darkened living room watching a movie on TV. I had positioned myself on the floor next to Keith, and gently, secretly in the dark, I laid my hand on Keith's forearm out of sight of all of the others. Keith didn't object or move away, and so I felt his arm gently while we lay near to one another. I soon allowed my fingers to roam up towards his armpit, and I felt my erection bulge and itch as he allowed me to sensually play with the small patch of wispy hair in his underarm, erotically stroking it and pulling lightly on it while the others couldn't see. When the movie ended we all went up for bed, and I tried to playfully see if Keith would bunk with me, but he laughed nervously and told me he would sleep in the back bedroom with the other boys. I smiled, but mentally ticked off box-number-four on my progression chart.

I always played in a summer baseball league, and I'd come home after dark after some games, still dressed in grass-stained full uniform and carrying my spikes and glove. One such hot summer evening, I walked into the den and found Keith and Tad sitting at opposite ends of the couch watching TV together. I sat between them and talked a bit to Keith, when I decided that this was going to be the night. With purpose, I casually announced I was going to go take a hot shower, and asked them if they minded if I came back later. Tad said nothing, but Keith said "sure!"

I took a hot shower, and then donning only light cotton boxer shorts I went back into the den where Tad and Keith were still glued to the TV, I sat down, and without delay, I began to try to arouse Keith, oblivious to the fact that my kid brother was sitting right next to me. Slowly touching myself, feeling absently all over, I kept careful watch on him out of the corner of my eye. As my fingers passed slowly over my groin, I watched Keith's eyes, and saw that he had begun to sneak looks at me that grew more and more frequent as my actions became more and more overt. Keith was wearing blue jeans and a skimpy t-shirt, and I allowed one of my hands to rest on the sofa between us, then moved to touch his leg slightly. As my erection became apparent in my thin shorts, I saw him looking longer at me and less at the TV, and noticed his breathing had grown quicker. Pushing down on my erection with my forearm I allowed it to spring up inside my shorts, staying barely hidden from view behind the thin cotton cloth. More boldly now, feeling his leg, I allowed my fly to gape open so that he could see slightly inside, allowing a clear view of my curly dark hair.

Things happened really fast after that. My hand was in his lap; I found his dick was hard. His jeans were snug and as I felt him there I found them too tight for any exploring at all, so through clenched teeth I hissed at him, "Pull them down, Keith... just take them off." To this day I marvel at what he did next... standing slightly and without hesitation, in one fluid motion he pushed his jeans and undershorts all the way down to his ankles, shamelessly exposing his fully stiff and erect cock to view. Immediately gripping his long, thick, hard straight penis, I handled and stroked it, marveling at its size, its massive firmness, and how much larger than life it looked looming over his abdomen because Keith was so slim. I cupped under his big, loose balls, reaching over with my other hand I lifted them and held them both in the palm of my hand. "Oh Christ," I moaned, as this hot, sudden erotic action was more than even I had expected. "Feel me too, Keith"

Keith reached over without hesitation and roughly pushed my boxer fronts open wide extracting my hard penis like an expert. He gripped it and pushed his hand all the way to its base, causing it to stand out from my loins and a drop of pre-cum to glisten at its head.


Tad had apparently seen enough and he jumped up, clearly signaling disgust and left the room, banging the den door behind him.

My parents sat reading in the living room, just on the other side of that same unlocked door I had entered to surprise Keith that morning just a few weeks before, and I didn't care either. Right then I only cared about this well muscled, god-like nearly naked athletic teenager sitting beside me on the family sofa, his pants pushed lewdly down around his ankles where he had remanded them, dick jutting stiffly out with my hand wrapped firmly around it. Lowering my face, I spit and made his cock drip and glisten with wetness from my saliva. I buried his cock in my throat this time; he pushed his head back and closed his eyes, oblivious also to the risk we were taking, roughly feeling the back of my head and my thick hair with both hands and I focused on his wet dick with determination and purpose.


It occurred to me only for a split second that Tad might summon my Father, tipping him off to walk in on the seduction, but I dismissed that thought almost immediately. I reasoned that however angry Tad might be with me, he wasn't going to blow his buddy's cover by having my Dad catch us together.


I removed my mouth from his dick and resumed rubbing his huge, thick shaft, weeping profusely with pre-cum that left sticky trails with every motion of my fist Keith moaned and set his jaw, hissing as he breathed through clenched teeth. It hadn't taken long but I knew that he was very close.

"Squirt, Keith! Squirt like you do when you are all alone playing with your hard dick alone at night in your bed," I whispered obscenely as I raised my head to look into his face. "Make it cum! Squirt your cum all over me you hot fuck-boy!" Keith's head was tipped back, his eyes were closed and he groaned, pushing his groin forwards out of the seat, and he complied with all his might. As I continued rubbing, he began to shudder then jet after sticky jet of his hot, thick cum suddenly began to shoot out all over his tummy, my face, his thighs and my hands. He groaned and lurched forward where he sat. I was in awe. This boy whom I admittedly barely knew had just surrendered and allowed me to "have" him in the most lust drenched, lewd and lascivious manner.

But it wasn't over. Immediately turning his attention to me, Keith coated his hands with his copious emission collected from his belly and turning to his side, he wrapped both hands roughly around my rigid, throbbing cock and rubbed the slick semen expertly all over my cock and balls, even coaxing his fingers below my balls to that super-sensitive place just south.

"oh! Oh! OHHHHHHHHH!" I groaned, twisting and thrusting to get away from the exquisite pain of the full, two handed and even rough stimulation he was giving me, and within moments my overpowering orgasm hit. I shot my cum straight up into the air in one thick blast after another, falling backwards in ecstasy on the sofa.

We were both a terrible mess, and coming to our senses we both realized what a fantastically risky situation we were in. Vaulting the sofa arm and grabbing the large box of tissues, I gave Keith a huge handful as I took one of my own. We cleaned up as quickly as we could, desperate to hide our compromising situation. I recall I quickly exited the room, almost without looking back, and went immediately to bed after making sure the coast was clear.

Alone in bed at last, I just lay there and quivered, my heart hammering, thoroughly dumbstruck by what had just happened. This super-straight appearing tightly muscled and popular all-American boy had not only allowed me to seduce him, but he had given it all back to me like an expert, and as if he had fully expected the seduction to occur.




"You keep away from Keith," Tad angrily warned one day not long afterwards, but I just smiled. I had no intention of following his orders. Summer was short, and I had very little time to waste before my regimented straight life back at college began again.

I could fill twenty pages more detailing the sex I had with Keith that summer and the next two; and all the while I was having a relationship with Teddy as well. But where my interactions with Teddy were like a soft breeze, tender and gentle, full of innocent hugging and passionate tongue kissing and slow, steamy lovemaking with purposely delayed and prolonged orgasms; sex with Keith was quick and hot and angry and even evil. Keith was not willing to kiss, and that was absolutely OK with me. We'd roughly undress each other, tearing at each other's clothes whenever we could be alone for even a few minutes, but always after dark, using our mouths and hands to bring each other to one orgasm after another, after another... after another.

More than one summer night I'd be in bed with all the lights out, and I would hear bare feet pad into my bedroom. I didn't have to ask; I knew it was Keith, sleeping over again, sometimes without even asking my parents' permission. He'd climb into bed with me and we'd quickly strip off the skimpy bedtime clothes we were wearing, constantly and perpetually stiff and erect we'd jerk each other to multiple orgasms- never just one, as we lay in my bed just three steps down the hall from where my parents slept. We would rub each other's cum all over ourselves until it dried, and then we would do it again. Tad had completely given up fighting me. I guess Keith obviously satisfied my kid brother's needs for sex as well, and Keith had professed to both Tad and me that he thought I was totally hot, especially when he saw me in my baseball uniform. Once, during sex I wore it for him and let him take it off of me, one piece at a time, exposing my nakedness while leaving the stirrups on and pushing the tight knit pants down to my knees as we proceeded to drown each other in our copiously mingled semen.

There was another time that I walked into the den one night were Keith and Tad lay in their sleeping bags, lights out, shirtless and quietly watching TV, and I shamelessly climbed under the blanket next to Keith, who began tearing immediately at my clothes as he undressed me right there, and as I reached over to feel him under the covers I realized that he was already naked as a jaybird, and he and my kid brother had obviously been heating things up well before I had arrived. Keith expertly made me come, kneeling over me and sucking me deeply into his throat, and I moaned and writhed right in front of Tad, but I didn't care at all. Keith was an expert; without my saying a word he knew when I was about to come and would suck harder and harder until at my moment of climax he would allow my cock to go deep into his throat and would hold it there as I ejaculated, him swallowing frantically to keep up, me nearly going out of my mind.

There was another time when Keith and I were riding in my hot rod late one night to pick up pizza and I had been overcome with urgently lustful desire for Keith, pulling over into a deserted and dark parking lot, roughly pulling his shorts down, bending over his lap and doing him right there, his semen squirting all over my face. The pizza was only slightly cold when we got home and I don't think anyone was the wiser.

I had said before Keith was often moody. On more than one occasion he became suddenly quiet, sullen and withdrawn, even though he was physically present, seemingly lost in his dark thoughts, and disinterested in any sort of social contact. On those nights sometimes he would leave to go home without even saying goodbye to anyone. One especially hot summer day he came inside while Tad and the others were playing Frisbee in the searing summer heat, seeking me out while I read a car magazine on my bed. Keith sat down silently at the foot of my bed and I asked him what was wrong, but he didn't answer, staring almost trance-like at the wall. Then, in the most revealing and honest moment yet between us, I asked him flat-out if he felt the same uncontrollable, addictive compulsion as did I to have sex with other guys, and as he continued staring blankly ahead, he shook his head once, yes.

I knew I felt it inside of me; and I had come to suspect he did too. I asked him if I could hold him to make him feel better, and still comatose and unresponsive, and still not looking at me, he shook his head once "no"; and then quickly he composed himself and was gone from the room without a word.

* * * *

I was in the den filling out applications for graduate school my college senior year while on spring break at home, and Keith and Tad were working on a major project for a high school history class at the same time. Through the window I saw them come in from outside together, both Tad and Keith dressed in blue jeans and t-shirts, then disappear quickly upstairs assumedly to work on their school project. Not half an hour later the den door creaked open, and in walked Keith, but now wearing red gym shorts. I was surprised he had changed clothes, but I was so busy with the pile of complex forms spread out on the coffee table before me that I hardly noticed him there. He came up behind where I sat on the floor, and without warning I felt his warm hand touch me gently on the side of my face. I turned to look at his fingers, but instead, the sight of his nakedly sculpted and half-erect penis greeted me, poking suggestively out of the leg hole of his shorts where he had released it. He softly bumped it against my cheek again and again, and it stiffened a little more with each fleshy thump. He had tucked his finger into the leg of his shorts and pulled them up so that not only was his cock exposed to my view right before my eyes, but his balls dangled tantalizingly down in their overly generous sack there as well. He wasn't wearing any underwear.

"I was afraid you'd go back to school before I could see you this time," said Keith quietly, waggling his semi erect cock and slapping its fat end gently on my cheek. "God I'm so hot Brad... just do me right here!" With that he thrust his now stiffly erect cock directly into my face.

College applications forgotten for the moment I grabbed him and pulled his pants more open at the leg so I could see his cock, balls and his full brown bush displayed an inch from my face. "Not here", I warned. "Let's go upstairs." He hastily repackaged himself into his tight shorts, and following right behind him we passed through the living room where my parents sat (I recall wondering then how he had hidden his arousal from them as he passed by!), then went up the steps two at a time to Tad's bedroom.

Tad was sitting on the floor, with the slide projector set up and turned on, and books and magazines spread all around him as he worked with a large piece of poster board. "There you are!" he said to Keith with some annoyance. "We have work to do. Can you get that folder over there and..."

I noticed Keith's blue jeans were laid on the bed, and was suddenly excited as I realized that those red shorts WERE his underpants. He must have come into the house, stripped down, and then immediately come looking for me!

Keith displayed no intention of getting the folder for Tad. Instead, he lay back on Tad's bed, and in a single motion I had stripped his skimpy gym shorts down to his ankles, his naked cock sticking straight up in the air. He raised his body on his elbows and pulled my head down into his lap. "Do me, fucking do me now Brad," he ordered in a hissing voice. And do him I did. I massaged his stiff, wet and shiny red pole and cupped his bouncing balls with my hand at the same time.

Tad freaked out at us. "You guys, cut it out now!" he ordered in a shaking, angry voice far louder than necessary, certainly loud enough for my parents to hear just down the stairs. "Keith, we have a lot of work to do! Brad, go away, GET OUT!!"

"Brad!" called my mother sweetly from the bottom of the steps. "The boys have schoolwork to do. Please leave them alone! Come down here."

But I had no intention of stopping what I was doing till I could feel Keith's hot sperm squirt in my face. "Ok Mom! I'll be coming soon!" I shouted back, darkly amused at the double meaning of my words. "Give us just a minute!"

Tad just stared at us in mutely disgusted amazement as we tore at each other's clothes on his bed. Laying head to foot, his cock right in my face, I jerked it savagely, pulling it from its root to its tip. Keith groaned as my own cock grazed his face as he made it slick with his saliva and rubbed it like his life depended on it. As Tad sat on the floor and looked on, jerking each other savagely with our fists, we both came, shooting into each other's faces, as we liked to do. I allowed some of his spunk to shoot onto my forehead and onto my cheeks, and I opened my mouth to catch some. Keith rubbed my red, wet, gushing dick all over his chin and cheeks as I came in a milky flood. We moaned obscenities as we reveled in the lewdness of what we had just done, underpants tangled around our knees, blots of thick white semen spilled all over Tad's blue bedspread.

"You guys are just gross, totally DISGUSTING" Tad spit towards us. I guess we were, but the "hit" that I felt from what we had just done together made my head buzz with electricity. I had just had wild sex, on the spur of the moment with my little brother's friend right in front of him, while my mother called and waited for me from the bottom of the steps, just a few feet away past the open door.

"Damn!" said Keith wiping his face with his pulled up t-shirt as we hurriedly cleaned up the best we could, though wet marks remained all over Tad's bedcovers. My heart pumped, my adrenalin flowed... I felt so alive! Playfully rubbing Keith's curly, fuzzy hair, I said my goodbyes, and smiling, left to go back downstairs while Tad glared after me.

I realized that the daredevil risk, not just the sex, had begun to fuel my erotic fire, and Keith was a most willing participant in fulfilling my fantasy adventures. I had no time to waste on romance or foreplay. Keith's outward appearance as a clean cut, handsome stud, popular with the girls, juxtaposed with his perverse willingness to get down to business with me was such a toxic turn-on that I began to seek out even more outrageous ways to experience a thrill. I didn't want to get caught, for sure, and had not even given a moment's thought to what might happen if that happened. Instead, I must have believed that I was invincible, and that I was never going to get caught. I felt I could do anything I wanted and get away with it. I felt it was my entitlement; my right. By this point, 17 year old Keith and I had been having sex for two years together, and I was almost 24. I refused to consider the fact that the difference in our ages made our relationship illegal in the eyes of the law, and probably worthy of news had anyone knew (like Keith's parents, for example... however that was highly unlikely. They seemed completely uninvolved in his rearing and were rather elderly at this point. Keep in mind that Hunter, Keith's older brother whom I had a crush on when I was a small boy was six years older than me and a full twelve years older than Keith!)

I jacked him off in the front seat of my car in the busy mall parking lot, "took" him in broad daylight in the garage, and at night on the back lawn. One evening he sat playing games at the computer in the den, and while my father watched TV just across the room, I pulled up a chair beside Keith, rubbed his covered crotch till he was hard, stealthily extracted his stiff penis from the leg hole of his gym shorts and extended it nakedly down his thigh. Using my spit-slicked wet thumb for stimulation, I rubbed his cockhead till he began to leak pre-cum in great droplets, me smearing the thick sticky clear liquid around and around while he squirmed with intensely pleasurable discomfort, finally gritting his teeth, gripping the desk chair arms with white knuckles and grunting while he shot a full load of his spunk all over the chair, table leg and floor when he could just hold out no longer. I intentionally left him that way to clean up the mess hopefully without my father seeing (but secretly hoping that maybe he would), while I hurried to the bathroom to rub myself to an urgent, high pressure orgasm which I shot directly into the sink, some of it shooting across the faucet handles and onto the backsplash, with some dripping down the spout.

One day Keith surprised me by asking how often I had sex with Teddy too. I was taken aback a bit, because I never intended to betray Teddy to anyone else. As I stammered for words, Keith realized my dilemma, playfully pushed my shoulder and added, "Oh come on, Brad, I see you two together, the way you act. I know that you two do stuff together. You know, I have had him too. I love his big, fat cock and the way it just overflows when he cums, instead of squirting like we both do." I don't know why it didn't occur to me sooner that Keith had also had sex with Teddy, but it hadn't. I asked him if he did it with Teddy often. "No," offered Keith. "He's too sappy and wants to do kissing and other stuff that I don't like, but his cock is so huge that it really turns me on." I knew what he meant about Teddy's affectionate ways. Teddy wanted to be tenderly held and kissed and cuddled. Keith was all action and anger when he had sex. I liked both styles, I guess.

I was curious and asked Keith about his "first time", since he demonstrated sexual expertise that clearly must have been learned sometime before he had met me. Keith told me an unbelievably erotic tale about summers he had spent alone at home several years ago when he was still a preteen, while his parents were away at work during the day and his college-age big brother (yes, Hunter!!) was supposed to be watching him. Keith explained how during the summer he was only eleven he had begun a romantic relationship with an older boy of fourteen down the street, and how this neighbor boy had taught Keith to masturbate, even though Keith couldn't squirt semen yet. Day by day their relationship intensified, and Keith would go to the neighbors' house early in the morning and let himself in before the boy had even woken up; he would crawl in bed with him, and how, often their sexual escapades would continue for hour after hour, countless orgasms occurring one after the other, with every sort of sexual experimentation taking place between them.

"So– What did you do?" I asked, fascinated.

"What did we do? How about what DIDN'T we do?" laughed Keith rhetorically. "We did everything. You name it and we did it." I tried him out, naming all sorts of sex acts, performed with hands and mouths; with objects and toys; with pornography and devices, lotions and liquids; using fingers, toes and foreign objects pushed into every opening in the human body for stimulation. "Did you even do it... you know... THERE?" I gestured descriptively with my hands.

"Oh God yes, we did it THERE," said Keith. "...And it was so awesome." When I asked who did whom, he smiled and replied that they both took turns... often. These morning sex sessions often lasted well into the afternoon, when they'd finally get up and shower together, dressing and eating lunch, then innocently watching cartoons for the last hour before the parents returned home from work, praising their sweet little boys for being so good while alone all day.

This pre-teen summer of grueling decathlon-like sexual training had taught Keith much about what he liked sexually and what he didn't. He knew that he could come ten times in a day if he wanted to, and he quickly decided that he was built to give his body to other boys. He could perform with girls, but he knew from puberty onward that he definitely preferred boys: mostly bigger, stronger ones who could dominate and control him. Boys just like me. He was no innocent, but he appeared that way to any adult's view. From then on I smiled at my secret knowledge when his handsome, clean-cut visage appeared on the front page of the Town Press, he wearing his white military-inspired finery as he led the marching band onto the field. (As a result, I think, I also began to wonder more often about other innocent looking young guys I'd see, imagining what surprisingly shocking things THEY might be into behind their closed curtains, thrilling how wonderfully exciting it would be to find out about as many of them as possible!)

The proverbial door kicked wide open, I asked Keith about his relationship with my brother Tad. Keith laughed and said that Tad was all right but that he was a little uptight and didn't want to try new stuff and that he was skinny besides. "I like your muscles," said Keith, feeling my chest and biceps. "You are so fucking hot. And you're ready to do it anytime. Tad– he's got to be just in the right mood and be oh-so perfectly ready. But when he gets going he can be really hot in bed sometimes."

I asked him if he and Tad and Teddy had ever had a threesome, and he shook his head 'no'. Tad firmly drew the line before that, he said. So, I made a couple of mental notes. One was that I must engage Keith in a threesome, and two, I had to get from Keith the name of that willing and experienced neighbor boy from his past, years ago, in case I ever need to know it, adding him to my special 'black book.' I might never need to call him, but after all, a junkie always keeps an extra stash hidden in reserve in case of unforeseen need or an emergency.

I didn't allow much time to pass before I put my latest plan into action. "Accidentally" walking into Tad's bedroom when Tad and Keith had gone to bed just a half hour before, I boldly climbed between them in the bed. Tad was not happy at all, and voiced his displeasure with sputtering frustration, but I was there on a mission. Reaching out on both sides of me I found as I suspected that both High School boys were naked and aroused. I stripped off my own undershorts to join them in the buff. Then, reaching to my left I gripped Keith's penis... and reaching to my right I found Tad's penis.... And with a new high reached I experienced a head rush like the drug addict who has just graduated to crack cocaine for the first time. I compared penis sizes.... Keith was right; compared to mine, or Keith's, who was bigger than both of us, Tad's was thin and small! But I had two boys in bed with one penis in each hand. It was a thrilling first for me, and a first for them too. Keith seemed elated, attaching himself to my erect penis like he'd never let go. We writhed and rubbed and moaned... and then I numbly realized that Tad wasn't in the bed any longer. In utter disgust, my brother had bailed out of the room, leaving Keith and me to our depraved pleasure. And depraved it was. Prince's Purple Rain album was playing on the stereo, and Keith and I practiced every move we knew on each other until the music had almost ended, and both our bodies were slick and wet all over with our mixed and mingled sweat, saliva and sperm. I knew I was going back to school in just a week to finish my semester, and I had wanted to leave on a super-high. This would certainly be it.

After that night, Tad refused to talk to me, look at me, or to even be in the same room with me the final week I was at home, but I didn't really care. I had accomplished what I had planned, and I had never felt more sexually alive! I knew that my long binge would have to come to an end as soon as I returned to my "other life" at college, but what a summer-long adventure it had been!

Before I go on, I have to say how tempted I am as I have written this in a way to dull the details; to make myself seem like a good guy; to provide excuses for my behavior, perhaps even pointing the finger to share the blame with Keith for my depravity those summers. After all "it takes two to tango...", but I won't do it. We've been too honest with each other so far to play that game.