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Let's Do It Again, Part 13

by Greg Scott


All the usual stuff about you must be old enough in your jurisdiction, etc.  In other words, if you are underage, don't read this unless you have a really cool teacher who assigned it.  Otherwise, come back in a few years, when nobody will yell at you.


Our plan with Jake had been a complete success.  Still I felt sorry for his embarrassment, although he certainly deserved everything that we did to him.

"I'd better get going," said Rich once Jake had finally dressed outside and shuffled off into the night.

"I thought you were staying," Alan's words echoed my thoughts.

"I can't risk it," Rich said.  "If that scrawny blackmailer tells anyone that I had a sleepover where Tyler was, it could get back to Tyler's dad.  He swore that he would tell my own dad if he ever found out that we were hanging out again."

"So what?" I yelled.  "I'm willing to risk it, and I would have to drop off the football team."

"You saw how mad your dad got when he caught us in bed, and your dad is a reasonable enough guy," Rich explained.  "If my dad found out, he'd kick me out of the house or worse."

"I don't think he would," Alan intervened.  "It might surprise him, but he'd get used to the idea."

"You don't know my dad the same way I do.  He completely hates gays.  If he even sees a news story about gay marriage, a gay pride parade or anything, he starts screaming about how sick it all is, how queers are nothing but a bunch of child molesters and stuff."

"Oh," I said as I thought about how ironic this must sound to Alan, since he had actually been molested by Rich's hateful dad.

"He's the sick one," Alan practically spit out the words.

I was afraid that Alan might tell Rich what his dad had done to him years before and might even tell him that I had encountered Rich's father at the roadside park bathroom with Jake.

"Let him go," I said to Alan.

If Rich wasn't willing to take a small risk in order to be with me, maybe he wasn't the right guy for me anyway.  I was feeling pretty pissed off.

"I'm sorry, Tyler," Rich said as he walked out of Alan's room.  "I just can't do this anymore."

After Rich left, Alan said, "One of us could tell him, you know.  Actually even both of us could tell Rich; then he would have to believe that his dad is just a miserable, closeted hypocrite."

"I'm not sure that he's worth it."

I meant what I said about Rich, but I still felt tears starting to form.

"We could talk to Rich's dad.  We could tell him that if he ever gave Rich a hard time, we would go to the police," Alan continued, thinking of ideas faster than he could say them.

"If you want to go to the police, go, but I don't want to try to blackmail that man.  That would be the same as what Jake tried to do to Rich.  Besides, if you ever decide to go to the authorities, he doesn't deserve a warning."

Alan must have noticed my tears for the first time.  He approached me and wiped my tears away with one finger of each hand.

That tender act, for some reason, sent me into uncontrollable sobs.  Alan embraced me.  He didn't say anything; he just held me close, rubbing the back of my head.

I think that I was madder about being dumped because Rich was a chicken than I was about the end of our relationship.  After all, I had been having second thoughts about just how committed Rich and I really were to each other.

A fairly long period of time passed before I was able to honestly say, "I think I'm okay, now."

He didn't release me from the firm hug when he said, "You're very special to me, you know."

I just nodded.  I wanted to say the same and more to him, but I was afraid that I might start crying again if I tried to speak.

"I love you, Tyler Crawford," Alan whispered in my ear.

Again, I just nodded.

"Really.  I do.  Very much."

"Me too," I managed to say, although I had to fight back tears for some reason.

"From the very beginning I wished that you had chosen me instead of Rich.  I was jealous, but Rich is my best friend," Alan continued.

"But you're with Sarah," I said, as if that would explain everything.  "You love her."

"Yes, I do," he agreed, and now I was the one who was jealous.  "But what I feel for you is different.  With Sarah, it's like we're good friends.  We have a lot of fun together.  With you, there's all that, but it's like there's a lot more too.  It's hard to explain."

"But what about the sex?" I asked.

"You mean with Sarah?"

I nodded.

"Well, I'm sixteen.  I supposed to have a girlfriend.  I'm the quarterback on the football team.  We didn't have sex for a long time.  When it started, she was the one who made the first move.  She's made the first move every time."

"And you had to go along with it just because you're the quarterback and that's what's expected?" I said, exasperated by his excuse.

"No, that's not what I meant.  But when she starts to rub me in certain ways, I suddenly become interested, but I never really think of it on my own," he seemed desperate for me to understand something that I couldn't really understand, since I couldn't even imagine girls affecting me in that way.

I don't think any girl could ever get me to want to do more, no matter what she did.  

"With you, I feel different.  I want to do all the typical things with you, like go bowling or just hang out, but I also want the love and the lovemaking.  It's just that I know you have this thing with Rich, and I don't want to interfere with it.  I got carried away a few times, but then I felt guilty afterwards."

I was struck by his choice of the word, "lovemaking."  I wondered why he chose that term instead of "sex."

"You shouldn't have felt guilty," I said.  "I wanted it with you.   In fact, I wanted it with you a lot, but I worried about Sarah.  I like her, too, you know.  As a friend, I mean."

Alan pulled me into a kiss.  It wasn't the kind of kiss that I expected.  I thought it would turn into a long, sloppy, passionate kiss.  Instead, it was just a tender kiss, quick but meaningful with just the right amount of pressure on my lips.

"Is it okay if I tell Sarah about us?" he asked.

"You're joking, right?"

"I'm very serious," Alan said.

"Aren't you afraid of what she'll say or do?"

"I could never be afraid of Sarah.  Besides, she sort of knows that it's coming.  We've had some pretty honest conversations.  She knows that I'm not really straight."

"How can she know that?" I was confused.

"Because I told her.  She's teased me about how we'll probably hang out for the rest of our lives, her with her boyfriend and me with mine."

"You know she couldn't possible take the news that well, don't you?"

"No, she won't.  She'll be sad, but she will be honorable about it.  She always does the right thing.  That's one of the things that I love--really like--about her.  It might take a while, but I know we'll be able to be friends again.  All of us."

"What if she tells other people?" I asked, reminding myself as I asked of Rich's intense fear.

"I don't think she will tell anyone, but I don't really care, as long as it means I can be with you.  But that's why I'm asking your permission.  It could impact you; especially if your dad finds out and makes you quit football."

I thought about the various possibilities.  Alan was quiet, sensing that I was giving his idea serious consideration.  Alan is always respectful of what other people need.

Finally, I said, "I don't want to be like Rich--hiding myself because I'm afraid of what my dad will do.  If you really mean it, tell her.  If there's anything I can do to help, just tell me.  I'll worry about my dad when the time comes that I need to worry.  Until then, I don't care either."

I think I actually meant it.  I wasn't going to be intimidated by what my dad might do.  I wasn't going to pass up real happiness in order to appease ignorance.

We heard noise downstairs that indicated that Alan's parents had come home.

"We're home," Alan's mother yelled from somewhere downstairs.

Alan walked to his bedroom door and opened it.

"Tyler and I are just getting ready for bed, Mom," Alan shouted.

"Is Rich here, too?" asked Alan's dad.

"No, he couldn't make it."

"See you boys in the morning," said Alan's mom.

Alan closed the door.

"Are you sure?" Alan continued our conversation where it had been interrupted.

"Oh, yeah," I said more confident than ever.

We stripped urgently and got into the same bed.  He pulled me closer, and we began a kiss that was very different from the last one.

His tongue entered my mouth, and it felt as though he was making a map of it.  He traced every part of it within reach in a way that was both methodical and seductive.

I released his tongue and began to lick his slightly salty chest.  It seemed as if I was determined to remove every bit of saltiness along his chest and abdomen before reaching my eventual target.

"Are you afraid your parents will hear us?" I asked before moving on.

"No way," he replied.

Neither of us said another word that night.  

I enveloped his cock more softly than I have ever taken anyone into my mouth.  I felt his whole body shiver.  I didn't apply more pressure until I had established a rhythm that I knew would eventually bring me my reward.

Gradually, I applied more force with my tongue as it slid along his shaft.  I simultaneously increased the suction.  Too soon, I felt his dick swell and tasted his salty product hit the back of my tongue and trickle slowly down my throat.

I felt a surge of satisfaction that I had never felt before.  I knew tears were forming in my eyes again, but this time they were tears of joy.  I knew that this would be a sensation that I would feel over and over again, always with the same boy.  At least I knew that would be the case until Alan moved off to college in a little less than two years.

We fell asleep spooning.  I knew that my release would come in the morning by one loving method or another.  I didn't really care how.

I was right.  I deposited my seed deep inside Alan as soon as we had both fully awakened that Sunday morning.  We enjoyed each other's company through a leisurely breakfast and a brisk walk through the neighborhood.  A couple times we grabbed each other's hand without even looking around to see if anyone was watching.

I left Alan's house right after lunch.  Alan dropped me off at my house on his way to have his poignant conversation with Sarah.  I felt sorry for her, but I knew that it was inevitable at some point.  She knew that it was coming--if not now, then sometime; if not with me, then with someone.  I relieved my sense of guilt by reminding myself that at least she liked me.  Perhaps that would offer some solace.

I also felt very fortunate to be the chosen one.  I had caught Alan's passes a number of times at practice and even a few times during actual games.  But this would be a catch that I would remember for the rest of my life, even if the relationship itself did not.      

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