Date: Fri, 27 Feb 2009 03:44:23 -0500
From: John Elash <phantomscorpio77@gmail.com>
Subject: Spirit of the Underdog 6

You know the drill...fiction with a chance of graphic sex in the morning
turning into sappy love for the afternoon and evening.  Overnight highs of
hope, and lows of anxiety.  Tomorrow?  Your guess is as good as mine.

No letter U's were hurt in the writing of this story.  [just had to]

I'd love to hear from you; comments, constructive criticism and general
feedback are still happily accepted.  Write me if you feel so inclined at:
phantomscorpio77@gmail.com.

Dedication : With heavy heart this week, this one's for you Smokey.  It
seems just yesterday that our paths first crossed.  15 years passed in the
blink of an eye.  Ah, the cruelty of time.

"Touch me, it's so easy to leave me
All alone with the memory
Of my days in the sun
If you touch me you'll understand what happiness is
Look, a new day has begun"


In the Shadows of Our Lives -- Prologue - Spirit of the Underdog 6


Sleep was a long time coming for me that same night of my giving Jon his
first blow job.  In the afterglow of sexual release we were still both
technically high from the pot.  When Jon took my hand and led me to his bed
I was feeling on top of the world.  I had never been given the opportunity
to so much as see his room before and we were finally jumping that hurdle.

We'd fully dressed again outside, for fear of a chance meeting with Jon's
mother or one of his sisters.  It makes no sense really that we did so, we
had just skinny dipped and given each other blow jobs in the nude, and
outside in his back yard to boot!  Still as brave as we had just been we
turtled and covered up fully.  Jon had fed off me and developed a thing for
underwear, especially wearing my underwear, and so put my smaller ones on.
I was finally into a men's small, somewhat big on me but it was an ego
booster!  However my grey Hanes were smaller than Jon's mediums and defined
his bulge quite flatteringly.  His pants did too, come to think of it.

His legs are quite lithe and sinewy for not being very athletically
inclined.  They were muscular enough and defined like a soccer player but
neither bulky or flabby, nor thin like toothpicks.  I must say that I felt
a tinge of pride that those creamy-bronze legs, lightly covered with fine
brown hair were mine.  Well they weren't actually mine, but I was the one
that got exclusive rights to them, right?  Once I was done admiring his
bulge, first in my underwear and then covered by his black khaki work
pants, Jon led me inside.

As far as bedrooms go his is really unusual.  It's what would have been the
mud room between the carport and the laundry room, and just off of the
kitchen in the cozy two story house.  My eyes had not adjusted to the pitch
dark when he gently led me out of the way of the door and closed it.
Seconds later he flicked on a triangular yellow waxed cardboard Ikea lamp
that sat about 5 feet up the wall, on the lower of two shelves that wrapped
all the way around his room.  In the gentle glow of the lamp I could see
that below those shelves two more rows of shelving traced around the room
from the foot of his bed to the doorway.  The only area where there was
bare wall is where the door opened beside his bed.  The room was tiny.
There were maybe a few feet of open floor space beside his bed, and half
that much at the foot of his bed.  His single bed was the only thing that
fit in the room, and the wall mounted shelves served as everything from a
dresser to a display for his few CD's and books and other keepsakes.

His box spring and mattress sat directly on the floor without a frame or
headboard.  For lighting there was the accent light he had on, and a wall
mounted light that extended and retracted.  Along with two lamps a
miniature CD boom box plugged into an extension cord running from an outlet
in the laundry room.  Jon's room didn't even have an alarm clock, he used
his Timex watch for that.  There was another door on the wall that his bed
is pressed against, but it had been nailed shut and the shelves effectively
boarded it up.  There were no windows, and the same linoleum that starts in
the kitchen extended into it through the laundry room.  It's an odd room
for sure and I don't think my facial reaction hid my thoughts well.  He
looked so beaten down after I gave his room the once over.

"Yeah, sorry, it sure isn't much."

"Sorry for what?  Jon if this is your little corner of the world where you
come from I could make love to it for giving me you."

Even in the dim ambient glow cast by the lamp I could tell that Jon rolled
his eyes, "You don't have to say something nice for the sake of being nice
Daniel."

I protested, "I'm not."

"Good.  It may be a shoe closet, but it's my shoe closet and I'm happy with
it," He explained and then pushed me onto his bed.

Just like everything he owned it held the faintest scent of Lemon Tide.
Lemon Tide, Polo Sport, and Jon.  That's what I smelled when I pressed my
head against his pillow.  I inhaled deeply on his pillow and then flipped
it into a corner.  Reaching for Jon, I closed my hand over his and pulled
him down onto the bed.  His bed smelled like him, but why get worked up
over that when I could get worked up over him?

Dreamily I said, "So I think I finally have it figured out.  One part Polo
Sport, one part Lemon Tide and a million parts sexy boyfriend.  That's your
smell."

"Mmmm.  Almost.  One part Degree Ionic scent deodorant too, and like a
gazillion parts sexy boyfriend if you want to be exact.  You're a little
Right Guard fresh scent over a heavenly hint of teen boy in your pits, I'm
guessing some sort of berry shampoo and a whole lot of boy-I-love."

That's what made the night so memorable.  We'd discussed it a lot, our
feelings for each other that is, but never used the L word.  He was the
first one to throw that one out there.  I looked him in the eyes.  My smile
could have been spotted from the space station if only his room had had a
window.

He looked me right back in the eyes and in the sweetest, barest voice he
said, "Yeah, I said it.  Daniel, I love you."

I got a bit gushy, "All my lucky stars must have been perfectly aligned
when you came into my life Jon.  I love you too."

Although it neither has heating nor cooling available in it if needed, the
benefit to his room was that with the one door nailed shut and blocked by
his bed, the room was privately nestled where there wasn't a floor directly
above it like the rest of the house.  Upstairs in the actual house there
were two bedrooms; his mothers, and one that Candace and Lacey shared.  His
sister Deanna had turned the dining room into her bedroom, so Jon's privacy
was only shot on the rare nights that she wasn't at her boyfriends.
Therefore once in his room we had a degree of seclusion and privacy.

After creeping inside as quietly as possible and sneaking into Jon's room
the clothes were coming off again once we were on his bed.  Matching each
other item for item, we did a little striptease.  No dancing or anything
like that on my part, we would remove something and then admire the part of
each other that it exposed.  Once again standing, down to our underwear and
socks we couldn't contain our teenage hormones.  It has been less than 5
minutes since I had ejaculated in Jon's mouth but we were making out again,
and groping each other's stiffening dicks again.  Sitting down on the edge
of Jon's bed we undressed each other from there.  One sock each, then the
other, and Jon stopped to kiss the tops of each of my feet after removing a
sock.  And after removing his underwear from my body he kissed my very
aroused dick.  I felt bad because once again I really wasn't returning the
favors as he did this.

We fooled around in his bed, playing with each other and exploring each
other's bodies fully and completely.  In the darkness of his room we
slithered like snakes all over each other.  My hands really got to explore
his whole body for the first time; boldly for me, yet still quite
cautiously.  We mock wrestled, Jon putting up no fight that night so that
he could be dominated by me.

I guess I'm an `ass man'; I've always loved his butt.  Next to my friend
Tim, he had the finest butt in my grade.  Not a bubble butt, rather one
that jeans just hang perfectly off of and give a hint of prime USDA meat
underneath.  I've even heard Tania and her friend Stacey say so!  How I
loved to slip my hands into his back pockets when I could and grope him!
Yeah, so his ass was like a magnet pulling my hands to its sweet cheeks.
As he lay blissfully naked and sprawled out on his stomach on his messy,
unmade bed I began pawing and caressing his butt, and massaged it for a
really long time.  It was a hot night, and without air conditioning we were
both slightly on the sweaty side.  Plus we never fully dried off from the
pool.  I began to slide my index finger up and down his warm and humid
crack, tickling his hairs there.

I wasn't about to rim him, but I did start kissing the damp small of his
back; very cautiously, and made certain that I my lips and tongue were
clearly above his butt.  I mean I'd heard of rimming, but honestly never
wanted to be on either end of that equation.  I just felt that it was too
personal a thing to do.  Eventually if there was to be sex I know that it
would require penetration there, but again, to put my tongue on his rosebud
or have his tongue on mine was degrading in my mind.

I was amazed by the reaction I was getting from kneading his cheeks,
planting butterfly kisses on his back, and running my tongue up the slight
crevice that marked his spine.  Encouraged by his positive reaction I
wanted to further please him.  Taking all of my courage I bunched the
fingers of my right hand together and playfully pressed against his
rosebud.  Not that I wasn't enjoying it so long as I didn't think how
personally I was touching my lover, possibly overstepping my bounds.
Still, my fingers had instinctively found their way to his bud in an
attempt to give him the most pleasure I could.  After pressing the full
force of my four bunched together fingers against him, I began to play with
just one finger, circling his bud and teasingly pushing against it.
Eventually I could feel him twitching there a bit in reaction to my
handiwork.  I thought that I had possibly loosened him up a bit so I
started to ever so slightly penetrate him.  This put him in a state of
euphoria.

I could tell that I was having a magical effect on his body by the way he
was moving under me, starting to grind the mound of a duvet beneath him,
and whispering my name and that he loved me.  Because of this, and only
this, I didn't retreat and stop the attention on his rosebud.  He
suppressed most of his sounds, just the occasional gasp when I really hit a
good spot I guess.  Still, I wasn't brave enough to actually penetrate him
anything more than like half a fingernail.  I know that's how guys have
sex, but again just like rimming, where thoughts of my dick in him were
perversely dirty yet unbelievably mesmerizing, thoughts of my finger in him
were equally just as gross.

It had been a long day for Jon.  For about a year he had worked Saturdays
at the music store in the mall.  This day he was beat, starting at 8:30 at
the music store and leaving early from his shift there to rush just in time
for his shift at the restaurant.  Justifiably so, he was really tired.
Still kissing his back, his bud getting the attention of my one exploring
hand, with my other hand gently rubbing the back of his neck and shoulders,
he drifted off to sleep on me.  Just seeing him sleep with a smile still on
his beautiful face made me cry slightly, I was so overcome with a tornado
of emotions.  I was incredibly happy that I had him; that we had met and
were what we were to each other.  I was fiercely proud that I had brought
him some level of pleasure.  I was proud of him.  I was feeling a wave of
love for him that I didn't quite know how to handle, it made me feel so
good that it was almost hard to contain and keep secret.  I worried that
this was too good to last and something would happen between us.  Or that
we'd get discovered by the wrong people.  The wrong people ultimately being
anyone...

I slipped my boxer briefs back on.  It was a chore pulling the duvet out
from under Jon, but once I had it free I covered us up, to our waists
because despite the heat I was still bashful.  I know being the only man in
the house Jon was afforded full privacy behind his closed door, but still,
just imagine if his Mom or sisters saw us together naked in his bed!
Unlike at my place I think there would be a lot more questioning along the
sexuality lines than the pot smoking ones.  Somewhat safely hidden behind
the closed door and under his duvet I risked resuming my gentle massaging
of his back and butt for a while, ecstatic to be in bed with him.
Eventually I focused mostly on gently kissing his neck and cheek and
forehead not buried in his pillow.  Long after he had drifted off on me I
snuggled up to him, holding him until I too fell asleep.

It wasn't an everyday thing that we fooled around, heck, we sometimes still
went more than a week between stolen kisses.  Yet spurred on by our recent
advancements, the next week we did the same thing more or less.  It was a
Friday on the weekend following Labour Day, a full week into the start of a
new school year.  We left work, took the busses home and then smoked up all
the way from the bus stop to his house.  Again we skinny dipped in his
aging pool and made out under the awning on his back deck, jerked each
other off a bit and then got dressed and snuck inside to his room.  Back
into the swing of school and work, this time Jon was awake and alert.

We repeated the events of the previous weekend, but this time Jon was more
into it.  We started undressing each other.  As passive as Jon is when we
are out together in public, or in any social setting he may find himself
for that matter, he has usually been the aggressor when we get to fooling
around.  I only had his work shirt off and undershirt un-tucked when he was
way past that, opening the fly of my pants to discover that I was
free-balling.  Yeah, not my thing at the time, I hate the chaffing and get
too many woodies from the rubbing.  But I won't wear something twice, and
since my lazy ass hadn't gotten around to doing laundry it was my only
option after my shower when hurrying to get to work.  His excitement level
rose dramatically.  I guess that this detail had eluded him earlier in his
back yard.  Jon pushed me onto his bed, then forced me to lay down on my
back.

He straddled me, the bulge in his pants prominently on display in front of
me.  Man, let me tell you; I almost wouldn't believe it if I hadn't watched
it happen, but to see how thick his manhood has become and how much longer
it is since the first time I met it I am blown away.  He was like twice as
thick when fully hard and longer than me.

Slowly, gently, he started grinding his bulge against me.  I winced every
time I felt the zipper of his khaki's grind against my dick, and so fumbled
with his belt, button and zipper while he attempted to give me a hickey on
my chest, just below my neckline.  His mission proudly accomplished, once
he was satisfied with the red mark on my chest he rolled off of me and
shucked his pants and Haynes in one smooth motion.

Keeping his tank top on, we then continued the hand jobs from outside.  Jon
then went down on me a bit and we made out some more.  We were blue balling
each other, stopping the arousal when we sensing that the other was close
to climaxing.  In the process one of us or the other would even nod off
under the ministrations of the other.  At one point we both dozed off for a
while.

Eventually as it would probably have been starting to get light out Jon
showed me how he puts the neck of a wine bottle in his butt and jerks off,
caressing the muscle behind his sac with his free fingers.  Laying there on
his back with the bottle in him, his cheeks visibly blushing even in the
warm glow of the dim light, he told me for the first time that he wanted to
sit on my dick.

"Daniel?"

"Yeah?"

"Can I ask you something?"

I did feel nervous at the question but tried to mask it with somewhat
sarcastic bravado, "No!  ...Of course.  You know can ask me anything."

"Daniel, will you love me?" Jon asked of me, to my mild confusion.

Not interpreting his subtle offer I replied, "Of course I will.  Heck, I
do!  I love you Jon.  Why?"

"No, can you love me, like, make love to me?  Can I please sit on you, have
you inside me?"  We called it that; loving each other, not anything
otherwise degrading.

"Oh." I said at first, the realization hitting me of what he was asking,
and stunned by his offering himself to me.  Not that it came as a huge
surprise, we both knew in one way or another that we were headed to this
moment for some time.  "Wow, Jon.  Ummm...What can I say.  I love you.
I'll try if you want me to.  If you think you're ready.  I hope I'm O.K."

He quietly assured me he was ready for it, more as a nod of his head as we
locked eye contact than anything vocalized.  He did whisper, "Daniel, I
think you'll be way more than just O.K.  I know it."

I really, really wanted to try it, like all teenagers I'd wanted to have
sex for the first time so badly.  Not just that, but Jon had become my
world, my sun, my moon and stars.  He had taken all parts of my virginity
so far.  Of course I wanted to give all that remained to him and only him!
As I lay spread-eagle on his bed Jon put a condom on me that he had taken
from a keepsake box on his top shelf above the head of his bed, and lubed
it up with some hand lotion.  Kneeling over me and pulling the duvet up
over his shoulders, we passionately kissed again as Jon's hand found my
throbbing dick.

We were almost belly to belly, our lips sealed together.  He deftly moved
my dick around, massaging his bud with it and making my body go crazy at
the same time.  He made numerous attempts to have his body accept my
intrusion.  His eyes rolled this way and that as he repeatedly tried to
find courage and the right angle.  Then it was time, finally achieving
penetration I could still feel the tightness of being ever so slightly
inside his body when he removed his hand from my sheathed dick.  Arching
his head and neck back, in one quick sitting up motion Jon broke our kiss
and had all of me completely inside him.  OH MAN!

His eyes fluttered and his butt started clenching as soon as I was in him.
I could see shock, pain, and fear on his face.  At first he just sat that
way.  He had tears in the corners of his eyes and I could feel his legs
quivering against my hips.  He then thrust up and down on me maybe a few
dozen times and promptly, forcefully, shot his load all over me.  I didn't
get it in my eyes or my hair, or even in my mouth.  It mostly pooled on my
stomach, with some spraying up to and on my neck and chest.  His butt
clenched real tight as he came, and instantly because of this sensation I
shot a load inside him in new record time!

It was for sure my most intense orgasm ever.  Still, it wasn't anything
great like a porno scene, the actual intercourse lasted like 30 seconds,
tops.  Jon wanted to do me up the butt then too, but I wasn't ready for
that just then seeing how painful it was for him.  But this was our first
anal experience, so to us it was special.  Still inside my love, I stayed
hard.  With tears still welling in the corners of his eyes Jon leaned
forward and we passionately made out that way for a while.

Upon breaking the kiss he laughed at himself softly as he wiped the tears
away. He sounded like an angel to me, whispering he said, "I must be
fucked.  I've wanted this so bad and for so long, Daniel I don't know why
I'm crying."

"It's O.K. Jon.  I love you too, babe."

"Thank you, Daniel.  My Timon.  Thank you for this."

"No, thank you Jon. My love."

"Do you ever think that you can make yourself sick, just wanting something
so badly?  Not sick like throwing up sick, or even like crazy in the head
sick, just sorta like you don't feel quite right without it sick?"

If I was a little puzzled by the timing of our whispered conversation I did
completely understand where Jon was coming from, however.  And still,
playing devil's advocate in my mind I worried, was he hesitant now that we
had gone past the point of no return?  Was he regretting doing this?  Was
it me; was he regretting doing this with me?  But still talking, he went
on.  At one point he was quoting "The Flame", a Cheap Trick song.  I had to
play the words through my head for days until I could remember the song
name and who sings it.

"I've wanted you for so long, I've wanted this for so long.  Not really
like physically you inside me, more emotionally you inside me.  These tears
are for that Daniel.  This is forever, you know?  You'll always be in me
now, always be with me.

`I'm going crazy, I'm losing sleep.  I'm in too far, I'm in way too deep
over you.  You'll always be the one.  You were the first, you'll be the
last.

Wherever you go, I'll be with you.  Whatever you want, I'll give it to you.
Whenever you need someone to lay your heart and head upon, Remember: after
the fire, after all the rain, I will be the flame, I will be the flame.'

I love you Daniel, forever and always."

I could tell by the way he was talking to me that he had put considerable
thought into what he said, probably rehearsed it more times than I could
even guess.  Being the emotional basket case that I know I am, I shared
tears with Jon.  He was right there on me, I was physically connected to
him, but still my heart cried in yearning for him.  After using his gitch
to wipe my chest and stomach dry, together we cried tears of happiness,
release, whatever, as we drifted off to sleep in each other's arms in his
bed.

Into the afternoon on that day when we had had sex for the first time we
went to the mall once we'd finally stirred from our blissful visit in each
other's arms to the sandman.  We had the excuse of last minute school
shopping to go there with.  Jon had booked off the day so that we could
take advantage of the better sales he promised would coming once kids were
already officially back to school.  Being a mall rat was one thing, but he
had the brains to figure out the schedule of the sales and knew when we
could get the best deals for clothes.  When you don't have a lot of money
to blow it makes a huge difference to the wardrobe to be able to get more
for less.

But I digress.  There was definitely an awkwardness between us that day and
for a few after it, we made tons of eye contact for emotional reassurance,
and even a couple hand squeezes when no one was around.  That afternoon
especially we had a hard time finding our voices around each other.  In the
Disney Store we ended up buying each other stuffed animals.  I got Jon a
Tigger because I'd discovered over time that he loved Tigger when he was a
kid, and he got me a Timon because that guy makes me laugh so much and that
was the first movie we ever cuddled to.  So we had something from each
other to sleep with when we couldn't sleep with each other.

Of course my mom didn't take too well to me sleeping with a stuffed animal.
One morning that I overslept through my alarm a bit during that first weeks
of the school year she found me unconsciously sniffing the stuffed weasel
after she woke me.

A day or so later she asked me, "Who's cologne is on that doll?  You didn't
waste any of you school money on cologne did you?  You did give me all of
the receipts?"

I pretended like I didn't know what she was talking about but it was kinda
pointless because I didn't own any cologne and I selfishly had doused Timon
in Jon's Polo Sport, "What are you talking about?  I don't know why it
smells like cologne, maybe it's from a tester I used at the mall or
something."

She persisted, "Daniel Rice, you did give me all of the receipts?"

"Yes."  And I had, except for Tigger, but that was out of tip money that
she didn't know about anyhow.

She was unrelenting in her scathing line of questioning.  I think it was
still more the lingering effects of Jim Beam or his friend Yukon Jack
asking me, "Then where's the one for that doll?  Why do you have a doll
anyway, did a girl give it to you?  Or did your boyfriend Jon give it to
you?"

I didn't answer.

"Daniel!  You answer me young man.  What are you, a queer?"  Well there it
was, the inevitable question.  My heart sank.

"No." I croaked, hardly more than a whisper.  Then more vehemently to
protect myself, I spat out words that stung me more than her question.
Words that inside I deeply regretted saying, "Have you ever looked in my
room, you stupid cow?  Have you ever seen all of my awards for sports?
Being as small as your retarded genes made me, do you think I could do any
of that if I was a fudge packer?  Fuck you, bitch!"

She didn't say anything more but she threw out Timon on me when I was at
school that day.  And since school started back in that September she'd
started getting heavily on my case if I had a girlfriend and who I thought
was cute and shit like that.

[to be continued]


Dear reader:

A head's up...next week's posting will the last of Spirit of the Underdog.
Following it the next number of postings will be listed in the same place
under another subtitle that I don't want to give away just yet, but will be
the next part in the larger story of In the Shadows of Our Lives.

Sorry for not getting back to anyone last week.  Sometimes the good, the
bad, and the ugly in life get in the way.