Courtesy of www.99Gay-Men.US

Let's Do It Again, Part 9
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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I didn't have to wait long to see Alan's plan at work.  Not long after we finished dinner that evening, the doorbell rang.  I was in my room checking in on Facebook when I heard my father greet our unexpected guests.

"Why, hello Sarah," I heard my father's deep baritone.

"Hi Mr. Crawford," a young female voice replied.  "Have you met my boyfriend, Alan.  He's a friend of Tyler's.  They're on the same football team."

"Nice to meet you, Alan," said my dad surprisingly enthusiastically.  "I've seen you play.  You're very talented."

"The pleasure is all mine, sir.  I've heard a lot about you," Alan said in a voice that was at once familiar but with an inflection that sounded completely foreign to me."

"Is Tyler available, or is he doing homework?" asked Sarah.

I wondered just what Alan had told Sarah about my predicament with Rich--or more precisely, my predicament with my dad.  I was sure that Alan wouldn't have told her the whole, true story, but I suspected that he may have shared some fictional tale that would explain this uncommon mission.

My mother and father were good friends with Sarah's parents.  I knew my dad admired the family and considered them to be pillars of our community.  Alan had used a stroke of genius to enlist Sarah's help, even if she did so with only part of the information or as a result of some fabrication by Alan.

I waited until my dad called me downstairs before venturing down.  I didn't want to let him know that I had heard the whole conversation.  I especially didn't want him to think that I had anticipated them, which I honestly hadn't..

"Hey, what's up?" I said as I walked into the living room, now occupied by my mother as well.

"Sarah and I don't have any homework tonight, so we thought we would squeeze in one extra night of summer vacation before the work load picks up.  We're going bowling.  You want to come along?"

I looked at my mother and then to my dad, implicitly asking their permission.

"Can I go?" I asked more in the direction of my dad, primarily because of his warning about the influence of older boys.

"Is your homework finished?" Dad asked.

"Yeah," I replied rather than explaining that my teachers hadn't assigned anything yet, either.

After we said our good-byes, my father called after us, "Don't be late."

"Don't worry, sir.  We'll have him back by ten o'clock," Alan said.

I knew that Alan's long term plan would work when my dad responded, "As long as he is with you and Sarah I know there's nothing to worry about."

I climbed into the back of Alan's car, because there were only two seatbelts in the front.  We drove to the closest bowling alley, which was in a different town only a short distance away.

Being two years apart, Sarah and I never hung out together even though our parents were fairly close friends, but I discovered that night why Alan liked her.  She was very relaxed and easy going.  She didn't gossip about anyone, like a lot of the other popular girls in her class.  She teased me about my bowling ability, which was far below my abilities as a wide receiver.  She seemed to laugh a lot as I would tease her right back.  She was no better at bowling than I was.

"Do you two bowl a lot?" I asked after the second game, responding mostly to Alan's score of almost two hundred.

"We almost never bowl," Sarah answered.  "For some reason, Alan thought that it would be a fun way to end the summer.  He was right.  It's fun, especially with you."

She said the last line kind of flirtatiously, although I know she was just teasing me, again.  Despite that, I know I blushed and shot a worried look at Alan.

"I'm going to have to keep my eye on you two," Alan said playfully.

At the end of the third game, we started home.  I sat in the back again, wishing that Sarah could have sat in the back with me so that we could continue the easy conversation that we had been having.  Instead, I sat in silence while the two of them talked about their new teachers, some of whom were the same and some of whom were different from each other.

While they chatted, I thought about the stuff that Alan and I had done together, and I surprised myself by feeling a little guilty.  Now that Sarah and I had become friends, at least for this one night, it didn't seem right for me to have had sex with her boyfriend.  On the other hand, thinking about what Alan and I did together gave me a major hard-on, and that made me feel even guiltier.

Along the way, when we were about half way to our own town, Alan asked Sarah if it would be okay if he dropped her off at her house first.  He explained that her house was on the way to mine.

Sarah, of course, voiced no objections and exhibited no signs of suspicion.  

When we got to Sarah's family's home, which I remembered being at during my childhood, Alan got out of the car, opened Sarah's car door and walked with her up the sidewalk.  I took mental notes on his etiquette, in case I ever dated a girl, although deep down I knew that would never occur.

Before she went inside, they fully embraced.  They shared a long kiss, which made me feel a little jealous I think, although it's not clear to me exactly who I was jealous of--I wanted to be kissing either of them, or maybe even both.  I saw Alan briefly touch, maybe even massage, Sarah's right breast.  Then he returned to the car.

Once Sarah was inside, I moved to the front seat and buckled myself into the car.

We headed in the direction of my house.

"I really like Sarah," I said, breaking the silence.

"Me, too," responded Alan.

"She's a lot of fun," I added.

"Uh huh," Alan uttered with what I thought to be a noticeable lack of enthusiasm.

"Why did you fool around with me when you have her?" I asked, surprising myself with my candor but apparently overwhelmed by my curiosity.

"Because I like you," he replied, then added, "And besides she won't put out."

"Yes she does," I said, unsure whether my statement was correct.

"Okay, maybe she does, but it's not the same," Alan clarified, although he sounded confused himself.

"Are you bisexual," I asked, finally putting out there what I had been wondering since that day at Rich's pool.

"I don't know what I am," Alan said, sounding a little mad that I had asked.

"Okay," I said, not really interested in pressing an issue that Alan obviously didn't want to discuss.

"I think I love Sarah in some way, but unless we're actually making out I don't really have any interest in sex with her.  With guys it's different.  I think of having sex with guys that I don't even know very well, and if it's someone I know like you or even Rich, that's all I think about."

"So, I'm just one of those guys?" I asked.  I don't know why I even said that.  It didn't come out at all like I meant it.  I mean, I didn't have my feelings hurt that I was just lumped in with practically all guys.  After all, I am mostly interested in Rich.  Alan was fun, but my experiences with him were just that--fun, nothing more.

"No.  That's not what I meant.  You and Rich are special.  I mean special to me.  I really care about you guys, in the same way I care about Sarah.  The thing is that I don't really care about having sex with Sarah, but I do care about having sex with you two.  I've never done anything with other guys, but I know that I would enjoy it if I did.  With you two, I guess I really care that you enjoy it too.  I want Sarah to enjoy what we do, but I don't get much out of it besides cumming.  With you guys...well, it's just different."

I had turned something loose in Alan.  He was telling me a lot more than I had asked, and maybe he was telling me a lot more than I really wanted to hear.

"Where are we going?" I asked when I noticed that Alan had turned onto a road that was not going in the direction of my house.

"It's only about nine o'clock," he replied.  "I want to show you one of my favorite spots.  It's not far.  Don't worry; I'll have you home by ten."

I began to worry that an outing that was supposed to lead to Rich and me being able to spend time together had become more about Alan and me.

"How are you going to work out setting up time for Rich and me to get together?" I asked, hoping to get back to what I thought was the objective of this whole night.

"Don't worry," he said.  "It's practically a done deal, especially after Sarah worked her magic on your dad."

"What did you tell Sarah about the problem that Rich and I have?"

"I didn't have to tell her anything.  I just suggested that we invite you along as one of the up and coming players on the team.  Sarah doesn't need to be told to turn on the charm.  She just does that naturally," Alan explained.

I was relieved for some reason that Sarah hadn't been let in on any secrets.  I had been worried a lot more for Rich than I was for myself.  I knew that he was very afraid for his parents to learn the truth.  Now that my dad had found out, I didn't really care who knew what I am.  Well, maybe that's not completely true, but it's almost true.

Rich turned the car into what looked almost like a driveway, but it was covered with grass, and there were no tire tracks.  He stopped at a fence that bordered a field of corn and turned off his headlights.  It was dark as only the countryside can be, and there were no farmhouses in sight--at least none with any lights.

"Come on," he said, opening his door and climbing out of the car.

He walked to the trunk and climbed the bumper to use as a step to sit on the trunk.  He patted the space next to him, indicating that I should follow his lead.  I did, with a growing sense of trepidation.

We sat silently, close to each other for several minutes before he said, "Look at how many stars you can see."

I looked up toward the speckled sky.

"Wow," was all that I could say.

"We're surrounded most of our lives by bright lights that trick our eyes into not knowing how many stars there actually are."

"It's amazing," I said as an expression of agreement.

"It's just you and me and the universe," he whispered, leaning toward me.

He placed his left hand on my shoulder and pulled me closer, fully against him now.  We both continued to stare skyward.

After a period of looking at the thousands of visible stars, I felt remarkably insignificant.  My problems seemed to shrink in this magical place.  Alan, on the other hand, grew in importance.

I looked in his direction, and I found that he was looking at me as well.

The kiss seemed natural.  It also seemed perfectly natural when we found ourselves rubbing the leg of the other, working our hands inevitably upward toward the groin of the other, massaging the stiff cock under our respective hands.

Even now I can't remember how our pants got lowered to our knees, or how we managed to get ourselves positioned on Alan's car's trunk lid so that we could each cradle the other's cock in our mouths.  It must have been a natural process for us both, but, as I say, I can't really remember.

I do vividly recall the climax as I shot forcefully into Alan's eager mouth and his seed forced itself into mine.  I do remember savoring the taste of the viscous fluid that this very dear friend had given me as his special present.  I can picture, too, our passionate kiss during which we exchanged what little was left of our highly valued possessions, which passed from one mouth to the other and back again.  When I swallowed the last of it, I wondered how much of it was mine and how much my friend's.  I also questioned which proportion was semen and which was the equally prized saliva of this truly good buddy.

On the trip to my house, I did not buckle myself into the harness.  Instead, I sat as close to Alan as I could.

We pulled close to my house.  As I moved myself toward the door, I think I heard Alan say, "I love you, Tyler."

I replied, "See you tomorrow, Alan."

For the second time in the same day, I had been told that I was loved.  That is always a nice thing to hear, but for some reason I had very mixed feelings that the expression had come from two different guys.

As I walked into my house, I glanced at the clock.  It was ten minutes before ten o'clock.  I felt a powerful sense of relief.  As far as my dad would think, Alan had passed the test.

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