If you gets the hankering to write me, cause I love getting e-mails, my addy is Justin69SK@aol.com Make sure you put the story title in the subject, so I don't think it's some spam, or junk mail, and automatically delete it. I answer every e-mail I see. If you'd like to check out my website, go to http://Justinscorner.hotmail.com I have lots of stories by other writers that I think are the bomb posted for your viewing pleasure. Oh and btw, I got some hotties for you to check out too, some real nice pics! So as always, I'll see ya next time! J
The next few days I spent planning the party for Buddy. Debbie, Shelly and I were all working on it together. Debbie was providing the house; her mom was helping with the food. Debbie had lots of girlfriends, and she was busy inviting them all and arranging the menu. Shelly decided she'd do some entertaining, by playing her keyboard, and singing. I was on the phone inviting all of Buddy's friends, the ones I had met through him. When we weren't busy planning the party, we were doing school work. I wanted it to be perfect; I loved him so much.
Mark Thorton was a friend of Buddy's they had grown up together in the same neighborhood. Mark was two years younger than I was, he was fourteen, going on fifteen. He was a blonde, with dark roots, and streaks of black running through the fine straight hair that he kept at a medium length, his bangs often hanging into his greenish gray eyes. Mark has the cutest nose, with a cleft on it's turned up end. His brows are thick and black, and totally accentuate his gorgeous smooth face. I spent many a day admiring his beauty.
Mark was a freshman, and was on the swim team. His body was totally smooth, his skin lily white, with legs of an athlete, and arms to match. When he'd wear his navy blue nylon bikini bathing suit, the bulge in the front always seemed to catch my eyes. He was definitely a guy that I didn't mind talking to. The day before the party I spent a few hours alone with Mark in his bedroom. I went to invite him, and couldn't seem to leave. I kept staring at his crotch as he sat on his bed and I sat in a chair in his room, I couldn't help myself.
"You seem to be like, totally infatuated with Buddy," he said catching me off guard.
I immediately became defensive, and wondered if he was trying to out me. Part of me wanted to just spill my guts, but I was too afraid. `What if he just wanted to find out so he could tell everyone?' I feared. I just couldn't take the chance; too many people don't seem to like guys like me. Often the brunt of crude jokes, and the center of many contemptuous innuendoes, people like me often live in constant fear. I had told Buddy, and it was the scariest thing I had done in my entire life, hell for a long time I couldn't even tell myself what I knew to be the truth.
"You jealous?" I quipped, trying to turn it around.
"Him having a best friend, and you obviously not." Slammed and dunked!
"Oh right, that's it, I'm jealous."
"Well you gonna come or ain't ya?" I figured I'd change the subject.
"Yeah, I'll be there."
"Cool. He'll be happy you came. Thanks Mark."
I started to leave, when something popped into my head. "Hey, why don't you bring your chicklet?" I didn't even know if he had a girl, but I wanted to find out.
"I ain't got no time for a girl, shit I'm too busy swimming." His eyes shifted downwards as he admitted it and a sense of insecurity rang in his voice.
"You want me to have Shels fix you up with her younger sister?"
"Nah, I told you, I ain't got no time for no chicky-poo." As he said it, his voice got a little louder, but not angry, just with some emphasis on the word chicky-poo.
Now it was my turn, "What, you don't like girls?"
"Fuck off. Laterz!" There was no mistaking it; the subject upset him. I could see it in his eyes, and hear it in his voice.
Mark's bedroom was in his aunt's basement. His mom and dad had divorced when Mark was a baby. By the time Mark was six his mother died, and his dad had moved away, never to be heard from again. Pat, Mark's mother's sister, took him in and raised him. Rich, Pat's husband, fixed up the basement for Mark to have his own private room. Rich and Pat had two daughters both younger than Mark, and they looked up to him like a big brother. As I ran up the stairs, I thought about the short game of wits we had just played, it left me with a nagging feeling, one which I knew I'd get to the bottom of.
Pat was in the kitchen, as I reached the top of the stairs, she greeted me, "Hey Joe. How's Carl?"
I was still a little distracted, and it took me a second to remember who Carl was. I was so used to calling him Buddy; I often got confused when people called him by his name. Not too mention I was wondering if Mark was trying to find out if I was gay because he was. My wonderment must have shown on my face.
"Is everything all right? Is he ok?"
"He seems a little touchy," I answered, still in my daze.
"Oh that's normal, look at all he's been through." The short woman with the graying blonde hair said, with a comforting voice.
"Yeah, I couldn't imagine losing my mother." I felt sadness as I thought about Mark.
"What? I was talking about Carl, not Mark."
"Oh, yeah, he's coming home the day after tomorrow. We're planning a big party for him. I just invited Mark."
"Is he gonna go? I hope so; he stays in that room so much, the only time he goes out is for swimming and school. He needs more friends, Joe, I'm glad you invited him."
"He said he was. I didn't know he didn't have any friends." I had to find out more about Mark, I was still feeling like he had just tried to tell me something, but stopped short.
I said goodbye, and walked home. She offered me a ride, but I wanted to be alone. I needed to be by myself, and think about everything that Mark had said. He was right, I was infatuated with Buddy, but no one else seemed to notice. At least no one had said so; no one had said it to my face. I just couldn't understand how he could tell it was infatuation, and not just a best friend's concern. The word, infatuated, and the look on his face as he said it, it wasn't like he was stating it, more like he was asking. The anger he had shown when I pushed him with the subject of girls, it was odd, I felt. I thought about it the whole way home, I played our entire conversation over and over in my head.
I also kept thinking about how cute he was, and how much I'd like to mess around with him. I felt a little guilty, but not guilty enough to stop my fantasies. I finally reached my house, my cock was aroused, and my mind filled with sexual thoughts about Mark. I knew what I was going to do.
"Hey Mom, hey Dad," I called out as I dashed down the hallway to my bedroom.
"Dinner is in half an hour Joe." I heard my mother's voice call out.
I quickly closed my bedroom door, and frantically pulled at my belt buckle. My hardened cock head had come out of my boxers and was rubbing against the rough fabric of my blue jeans. It was very sensitive, and aching to be released. I didn't even waste time taking my sneaks off; I undid my pants and pushed them down my thighs. My cock sprang out in all its glory. It bounced up and down as I moved towards my bed with trousers around my knees. I fell backwards onto my mattress, wrapped my right hand around my throbbing six and three quarter inch long rod, and used my left hand to push my shirt up my belly, so that when I shot my load, I wouldn't get any on my shirt.
Visions of Mark and his mouth sucking me off filled my head, as I rubbed my hot thick cock up and down. I loosened my grip so my hand slid up and down, and rubbed against the ridge of my circumcised head. I pictured Buddy with Mark, the two of them licking my tool, while my hand teased and tantalized it. I tried to add Shelly to my magical fantasy, but she kept disappearing, and Mark seemed to take control of my thoughts. I saw his smooth white body, naked, in my dream. In my mind Buddy was rubbing my chest, while Mark manipulated his mouth up and down my cock. I used my left hand to pinch my nipples, as my right hand continued to stroke and tug at my fully aroused member. My hips started to push my butt up and down, my thighs tensed, my calves tightened, as I flexed every muscle in my legs. I could feel my orgasm as it built inside my balls. I slid my left hand down my stomach, and grabbed at my sac, I pulled and twisted on my scrotum as my right hand tightened its grip on my cock. I jerked my dick furiously with my right hand and jammed my left hand into my balls, as I began to shoot blast after blast of hot white cum. I was so excited, the climax so intense, that my cum flew out of the tip of my cock and onto my face, some of the steaming white juice hit me in the eye, while some spurted over my head.
Once the release was finished, and my erotic state had subsided, I relaxed all my muscles and sank my head into my pillows. Content and satisfied, I let the cum stay where it landed, as I collected myself. It furthered my heightened excitement, feeling my semen on my body; I used my right hand to rub it into my skin and then licked some remnants of it off my fingers. I closed my eyes and let my mind wander.
I began to feel some guilt, guilt over the fact that I had just jerked off to Mark. I felt some shame, but I quickly dismissed it. After all it really didn't happen, it was just a fantasy. But I couldn't let go of that nagging sensation that Mark had tried to tell me something. I wondered if he actually had, or if I just imagined it. I began playing the conversation we had had in my head again. I also got upset with myself, because I wanted to be like other boys, and like girls, but no matter how hard I tried, it didn't seem to be what my brain wanted. I wondered why I couldn't imagine Shelly in my mind and cum thinking about her.
I liked Shelly, I really did. Why couldn't I just forget about Buddy? Why was I so attracted to boys, and now Mark? What was wrong with me?
Tears began to fill my eyes as I lay on my bed, I felt so alone. I needed to talk to someone, someone who had the answers. I was so confused. I mean it's not like I'm a bad person. Yet my attractions weren't accepted. I didn't even think I could explain it to my parents. I surely couldn't tell Buddy that not only did I lust for his body, but now, I lusted for Mark's. `I'm so alone,' I thought silently to myself, `so very, very, alone'. Alone in my shame and guilt, so much so the tears ran down my cheeks, as my mind chastised itself for my deviant thoughts.
I was only able to find refuse in the fact that Buddy had told me he loved me, and that he was willing to try having sex with me. I dozed off, clinging to the hope that all would be well, and that Buddy and I would find true love in each other. I couldn't wait until Friday.
To Be Continued:
I'd like to thank Bill for his fine edit job, and welcome him aboard.