Let's Do It Again, Part 7

Let's Do It Again, Part 7
by Greg Scott

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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.

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During the next week of practices and at other times, Alan and I kept a respectable distance between us. Especially if Rich was around, we seemed to make sure we were at least a few steps apart. I mean, it's not like we ignored each other or anything. We would talk like any other teammates, but our conversations were limited to football and the team's chances for the upcoming season.

I didn't know what Rich's expectations were. I have never really had a girlfriend, and Rich was the first guy that I sort of thought of as a boyfriend. I know there are rules for this type of thing, but I don't really know what they are.

I mean, we hadn't said anything about "going steady" or whatever. I kind of know what that means for a boy and girl couple, but I have no idea what that is for a couple of guys. Still, I had a feeling that what Alan and I did after our unofficial football practice must be wrong in some way. It must have broken some sort of rule. From Alan's actions ever since, I guess that he must have felt the same way. Maybe he was worried about how Rich would react. Or maybe he just knew that his girlfriend would go mental or all dramatic or something if she found out. Maybe she would even break up with him, even though we were just a couple of guys who wanted to feel good.

All I really knew was that I wanted to keep things good with Rich. Maybe I shouldn't have done what I did with Alan. But Alan and I had made each other feel pretty good with Rich that day by Rich's pool. Maybe the wrong part was that we did it that other time without Rich.

Although I wasn't sure that I had done anything wrong with Alan, it felt that way. Just in case I had crossed some line, I wanted to make it up to Rich even though he would probably never find out that I had messed around with Alan again. I wanted Rich to know that he had a special place with me. I wanted him to know that he was my boyfriend, no matter what I did with some other guy.

I knew exactly what I wanted to do with Rich, and I knew when I would have the opportunity.

Friday night my parents would be going to a fundraiser at the school gym. It had been an annual event for my whole life. It began at seven o'clock with drinks, although not the kind that had alcohol, since it was in the school and since about half the people in town thought that drinking alcohol was a sin. At eight there was a covered dish dinner. My dad always made his three bean casserole, which I don't like but that people around town seem to think is a culinary masterpiece. My mother contributed a big lettuce salad, since that was at the limit of her cooking ability.

After dinner, there was a silly auction, which was the centerpiece of the night. Everybody brought something silly to be auctioned off and people would bid many times more than it was worth. One year my dad took a stuffed squirrel that he had found in his aunt's attic. That sold for over two hundred dollars. Apparently the more outlandish the item the higher the bids were.

The tradition was that everyone had to display any item that they bought in their house somewhere for a full year. A lot of the stuff kept coming back to the auction year after year. That dead squirrel returned every year.

After the auction the high school's jazz band played, and the guests danced until it all wrapped up at midnight. I think this was the only time in the year when that many people stayed up so late around here!

All the money went toward something that some committee decided the school needed but couldn't afford. One year it was supposed to buy a new scoreboard for the stadium, but it actually took two years to get enough for that.

Rich and I had finished our pizza and were in my room playing video games on my Playstation when there was a knock on the bedroom door.

"Come in," I called as I pushed the pause button on the game.

My mother opened the door and stuck her head in with a big smile.

"We're leaving now, boys," she said. "If you get hungry, there's another pizza in the freezer and microwave popcorn in the cupboard. We'll be back about 12:30, but you'll probably be in bed by then."

"Okay Mom; have fun," I said, thinking that my plans would have us in bed long before then.

"Good night Mrs. Crawford," Rich chimed in.

We finished the game just as we heard my parents back out of the garage. I considered that perfect timing.

I remember the rest of the night as if it was a movie that I had seen. It's a clear memory, but it doesn't seem quite real as I recall the events, sort of as if I was removed from myself watching what evolved.

I leaned into Rich and touched his lips with mine. His tongue pushed into my mouth and explored the familiar territory.

"You taste like pizza," he grinned.

"So do you," I replied as I gave him a playful shove.

We went into the bathroom across the hall. I gave my teeth a quick brushing, then put more toothpaste onto the bristles and handed it to Rich. This wasn't the first time that we had shared a toothbrush. Rich had suggested that I use his once at his house. I found the idea disgusting at first, but Rich explained that we were always rubbing each other's teeth with our tongues anyway. After the first couple strokes, it seemed to make sense. What's the difference?

I hadn't told Rich what all I had planned for our special night, but he followed my lead anyway. I turned on the shower, and he took off his clothes. Then he began to help me with mine, taking a quick detour to tickle me while he had my shirt covering my face.

We had never showered together, and we began a little awkwardly. The shower wasn't really built for two people, but we didn't mind that we constantly bumped into each other.

We took turns without any words. I soaped his back and chest, and then Rich did the same to me. We moved very slowly, feeling no need to rush our pleasure.

I was surprised about how turned on I became as Rich massaged my feet with his soapy hands. I had never thought of feet as being connected in any way to sex, but I was learning that every part of the body can be sexy with the right person.

As you could probably guess, we saved the most intimate parts for last. I rubbed Rich's butt cheeks much longer than necessary, feeling the muscles alternately tense and relax under my firm pressure. I moved a couple soapy fingers down the crack and circled his hole. I pressed one finger inside him about half way. This was an integral part of my plan for later.

Once I was content with my thoroughness on his backside, I took the bar of soap and lathered my hands as much as I could. While standing behind him, with my cock pressing against his slippery butt, I reached around his solid torso and went to work on the cock and balls that I adored.

As I stroked his cock, he moaned very loudly. I knew what he was feeling because this shower sometimes served as my own spot for a soapy jack off.

Rich turned to face me and lathered his own hands, eventually reaching down to smear my cock. He then pressed our two erections together with both his hands and began a humping movement. The feeling was incredible.

Shooting jizz onto the shower floor was not part of my plan for this night, though. When I felt myself getting close, I grabbed Rich's waist to stop his movement. I wanted our cum saved for later, although Rich could not have known that.

What neither of us could have known, because of the sound of the shower, was that it must have been about that same time that the phone rang. What we also couldn't know was that my dad was calling from the school with a message that turned out to have been much more important than it would normally have been. Yet, when I remember the evening I think I can hear a faint ringing, just like the audience in a movie would be aware of events that the characters don't know about.

In the movie that serves as my memory, I hear my dad's message on the machine as a faint sound through the splash of the shower--a message that in real life I discovered later, after it had become irrelevant. It was a message that had ended by the time we had rinsed and turned off the shower.

"Hey Tyler, could you and Rich use Rich's car to bring my checkbook to the school? I need it before the auction. It's on top of my dresser. Call me if you get this message before eight. Otherwise, I guess I'll just have to drive home to get it. Thanks a lot."

The timeline of the reality was different from the timeline of my film-like memory. In reality, we dried each other seductively and raced to my bed. In reality neither of us was aware that we had left my bedroom door wide open. In the memory I see the door in its rare open state. It's called foreshadowing. I always keep my door closed. I've closed it since I was about ten years old.

Rich reached the bed first, because I had to make a detour to my closet to retrieve a bottle that I had stashed there.

"What's that?" Rich asked, looking at the decorative bottle.

"Just a little olive oil in case we want to make a salad," I replied smugly.

"Huh?" said Rich, so I knew that he hadn't caught onto my plan yet.

I placed the bottle on the other side of my friend. I eased myself onto the bed in the tight space between him and the edge. I reached over him and snuggled forward to bring every possible part of me into contact with him. The closeness is one of my favorite parts of sex. I love all body contact.

Rich tried to wedge his hand between us to grab my dick, but that would have pushed us farther away from each other, so I pushed his hand away. Rich realized that I was in charge of this night.

I moved into a passionate kiss, and Rich allowed me to explore his mouth first this time. I took my time, pressing my tongue as far back as I could, then bringing it forward to slip it under his tongue. I swept across the back surface of each of his teeth, and then I moved to the tighter spaces between his lips and the front of those bright teeth.

As I abandoned his mouth, Rich pushed into my mouth, mirroring my moves in every detail. I blocked out all the light streaming through my west facing window and pretended that I was inside my mouth following along with his journey of exploration.

If this had really been a movie, this is the time when you would have been able to see my dad strolling out to his car, reaching into his pants pocket to withdraw his keys. Of course, Rich and I could not see that. If we had, we would have realized that we still had only a few minutes more to play before we needed to hurriedly dress.

About the time that my father started the ignition, my tongue was brushing back and forth across Rich's hole. The sensation made him squirm in ecstasy.

"Are we going to try what I hope we're going to try?" he asked, although I think he knew the answer by this point.

I just kind of grunted my affirmative response.

"Oh, man. I want to try to take you. I hope I can."

I was too busy with my exploration to bother to comment. I knew how much he wanted this, but I was also aware of how much it scared him because of my size. Ever since I had sat on Rich's cock that day that we played together with Alan, I had been aware that having someone inside you was like the greatest gift ever. I wanted Rich to experience that, and I wanted that special gift to be from me.

Only after my tongue became tired from the exertion did I turn to the olive oil. I poured a little into my left palm and smeared it along my middle finger. I placed the slippery finger at Rich's opening and pushed just a little ways in. I felt Rich tighten up immediately.

"Do you remember Alan's instructions?" I asked.

Rich nodded.

"I'll try," he said.

I pushed in a little farther and waited for a response. He seemed to have handled that just fine, so I continued onward. Soon my finger was all the way inside him.

"That feels weird," he said. "But it doesn't hurt."

I withdrew and applied more olive oil, this time to two fingers. It took a little longer, but I managed to bury both inside the depths of my lover.

"Are you ready?" I asked.

"I think you should try three fingers," he said. "You're really big around, too."

I followed his recommendation. Surprisingly, Rich was able to accommodate the extra width fairly easily. I could tell that he was more relaxed because his hard on, which had been missing for a while, had now returned.

"I'm ready," he whispered.

I coated my cock thoroughly with the oil. I remember worrying about the stain from a small drop that landed on my sheet. I did not need to have worried about that, of course, but I didn't know it at the time. That stain would soon be redundant.

The first touch of my dick against his hole undoubtedly coincided with my dad reaching the town limits. He had only a few more miles of open road to go.

The sensation on my cock was so intense as I began my entry that I wasn't sure that I could hold off long enough to get all the way inside Rich. Of course, I still wasn't sure that Rich would really want me to go all the way in. After all, my cock would go much deeper than my fingers had been.

"Tell me if it starts to hurt," I urged Rich.

"It's okay so far," he reassured me.

The head of my dick was all the way in but nothing more when he told me to wait. Sooner than I thought, he was ready for more. He never stopped me again.

He just kept saying, "More. Okay more. Oh man, more. Oh yeah...more."

As I was approaching my limit, he said, "I don't know how much more I can take."

"I'm almost all the way," I told him.

"Okay, then, do it all at once!"

I did. He tensed, but he didn't scream. I had actually hit bottom. I felt as if I had scored the winning touchdown in the championship game.

After a short while, he told me that it felt good. I took that as permission to do my thing, permission to really give him my gift. I began a pumping movement with my hips as I lay behind him on my bed. I reached over him and grabbed his cock to stroke in rhythm to my pumping.

"I've never felt anything like this," he practically shouted.

In the movie, I see my dad pull into the driveway.

The pressure on my cock was amazing. The combination of the slick oil with the tightness of Rich was the most magical thing I've ever felt. I knew that I would come soon.

Rich was talking non-stop, now. Actually it wasn't so much talking as it was yelling in ecstasy. His noise stimulated me even farther.

My dad came in the front door, but of course the movie hadn't been released yet so Rich and I didn't know that.

I felt my climax begin in my toes, the same toes that had been so sensually massaged by my boyfriend in the shower a while before. I wondered if I should tell Rich, but I was too lost in the intensity to make a decision about that. I needn't have worried.

"Tyler, man, I can feel your cock grow inside of me. Are you getting ready to cum."

I shouted a response that wasn't really a word, but Rich caught the meaning anyway.

"Me too. I'm cumming, too," he yelled. "Oh god, you're shooting inside me. I can feel it. You're really part of me. Oh my god!"

That dialogue was the background noise that accompanied my dad's journey up the stairway. I never had the guts to ask him at exactly what spot he realized what was going on in my room.

"Oh Tyler, I'm shooting my cum all over your bed," Rich shouted.

"And I'm filling your ass with my jizz," I told Rich, simultaneously removing any doubt from my dad's mind just as he reached the doorway.

"Oh, yes Tyler. Yes!"

Considering what Dad heard and what he saw, his voice sounded amazingly calm. He was so calm, in fact, that at first I thought that I only imagined his presence.

"Get dressed, boys. You're going home, Rich. Tyler, meet me in my study once you are clothed."

I did not respond well to the interruption, I realized the first time I watched my memory movie. I jumped completely off Rich and the bed. I stood there with my hard cock pointing directly at my father with the final drops of my cum falling onto the carpeting.

My dad reached into the room, grabbed the handle and closed my door quietly.

Rich and I dressed with amazing speed. The whole time, I was totally silent.

Rich repeated, "Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Oh fuck."

When we had both finished, we just stared at each other. Both of us realized that we had better hurry, but neither of us wanted to leave the relative safety of my room.

In the movie we stood facing each other for many minutes, but I think that in reality it was just a few seconds.

"I'll call you tomorrow," Rich said.

"Better not," I replied. "I'll see you Monday at school or practice."

Rich took the stairs two at a time and bolted out the front door. His haste did him no good. My dad was standing outside waiting for him.

I sort of wanted to hear the one way conversation that I was only able to see through the window. On the other hand, I had my own talk with my dad to worry about.

I watched my father put a hand firmly on Rich's shoulder and guide him toward his car. My dad was obviously talking. Rich only nodded. Dad stood outside until Rich pulled his car onto the road.

I took a chair in the study and awaited my doom, trying to rehearse various explanations for what Dad had witnessed.

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