Disclaimer: The following contains scenes of sexual activity between males. If you find this offensive or if it is illegal for you to read this in your community, please do no do so. The author does not condone the violation of any law. This story is fiction and any resemblance to reality is purely unintentional. Do not operate heavy machinery under the influence of this story.

I wish to thank Richard Lyon and his colleagues for naming my story to the "Best of Nifty" list. I am stunned, humbled, and grateful for such a compliment and honor.

The Moon in Your Eyes

Chapter Five

When I looked out my bedroom window Friday morning and saw Jeff standing under the maple tree in our front yard awaiting my appearance, I grinned like an idiot and my heart nearly exploded. Maybe God wasn't as malevolent as I had earlier thought. I had been presented with horrible challenges and dilemmas over the last few years, but, now, I was being given a gift. If only he wouldn't snatch it away just as I was about to reach for it.

Jeff smiled so happily as I burst out the front door and into the yard that I almost laughed. His hair was combed across his forehead again and neatly behind his ears. His tie was a perfect half-Windsor, his cotton shirt neatly starched, his blazer so neat, even if it was a bit small on him. Never had I seen a sight so beautiful.

Doing a pretty good Mae West, Jeff looked at my pants and vamped, "Is that a pickle in your pocket or you just glad to see me?"

I froze and looked down in horror, but Jeff just giggled. "You didn't have time to take care of business, this morning?"

I almost wanted to die from embarrassment until I saw his shy grin, and, then, I knew everything was alright.

"Well..." I started. Jeff burst into the most delightful giggles as we took off up Berkshire to catch the Metrobus.

"Hey, its Friday! Its Labor Day Weekend! We have three days off from St. Steve's!" he declared.

"Yeah, it'll be great," I agreed.

"Did your mom say it was OK for you to stay over tonight?" he asked hopefully.

"Yep!"

"Cool!"

His smile was so bright and genuine that I wanted to kiss him right in the middle of the street in front of old Mrs. Kaiser as she watched her poodle piddle in Mrs. Lancaster's petunias.

"I think she was glad to get rid of me."

"Cool. Well, no. I mean, that's not cool, but its cool you can stay."

He seemed a little flummoxed, but I patted him on the back and grinned at him.

"I know what you meant."

The ride to school was fairly uneventful, until we climbed off the bus and crossed Franklin. When we were safely on the other side, Jeff turned to me and said, "Let's try something." He started walking back north on Franklin. I followed, curious as to what he was doing. When he turned west on Twenty-ninth, I realized we were heading to school by the back way, apparently to avoid any dangerous confrontations with Baldwin and his gang of Neanderthals, something that was not high on my list of priorities that morning.

As we came to Norfolk Avenue, Jeff stopped and peered anxiously toward the school.

"Do you see anyone?" he asker furtively.

There were several large crowds of kids of all ages, from sixth and seventh graders up to juniors and seniors, but few were between us and the church.

"Let's go," I said, and we ran across the street.

We might have made it into the school unscathed had it not been for that damned red Cadillac convertible again. Just as we passed by the front door of St. Stephen's Church, the Caddy drove by and honked again. Down the block, apparently waiting for us at the corner on Thirtieth Street, were Baldwin and the Neanderthals.

"Hey, its Pretty Boy and Plebe!" I heard one of them yell.

Jeff froze.

"Hey, faggot!"

It was Baldwin and he was running furiously up to us.

I looked around and saw the front door to the church was open. I grabbed Jeff and pulled him with me. We ran up the nave of the church, toward the sanctuary, paused to half genuflect, and then ran toward the north transept. The door in the south transept crashed open and two of Baldwin's gang ran in just as Baldwin himself and another of his minions stormed in the front. We stood near the door to a hallway leading to the rectory. Jeff was terrified.

"Hey, Fags. Where the fuck you think you're goin'?" Baldwin demanded as he came up to us.

"Leave us alone," I said, my voice quivering, but my fists clenched and ready to protect Jeff.

Baldwin reached out and grabbed Jeff, who screamed , "No!"

That was it. I lunged for him. He fell to the ground as I fell atop him, arms flailing wildly as I punched him madly about the face.

I could hear Jeff cry out as one of Baldwin's henchmen grabbed him. Suddenly, I felt myself lifted up and pulled away. It was Father Parker, and as Baldwin tried to hit me, Father Parker caught the fist in his hand. He grabbed the thug by his collars, hoisted him up, and threw him against a pillar, where he pinned him with his hand on the kid's throat.

Baldwin struggled for a second and then gave up. I sat back on the floor, gasping for breath and Jeff stood in terrorized silence.

Father Parker turned around, all the while keeping Baldwin pinned by the throat.

"Are you OK, Jeff?"

Jeff just stood there.

"Jeff! Are you OK?"

"Yes," he answered meekly.

"Scott?"

I took a breath and then, as calmly as I could, answered, "Yes."

Father turned to the others and in a voice that showed he would accept no alternative, barked, "The rest of you vermin. Get out. Now!"

Baldwin's compatriots scattered like rats.

"Let go of me, you bastard!" Baldwin demanded.

Father Parker looked at him with contempt.

"Shut up, Baldwin. You've gone too far this time. The Headmaster's not going to be able to overlook this one."

He turned.

"Jeff, tell Mrs. Gordon to call the police."

Jeff didn't move.

"Jeff!"

He jumped and ran down the hall.

I stood, trying to brush off the dust and straighten myself up. The bell outside the school rang the beginning of First Hour.

"Scott, what do you two have first hour?"

"Civics," I replied just as Mrs. Gordon emerged from the rectory with Jeff at her side.

"The police are on their way, Father."

"Let go of me, you bastard," Baldwin once again demanded.

"Shut up," Father Parker repeated. He looked at Mrs. Gordon. "Will you write out an excuse for Jeff and Scott to William, please?"

"Of course, Father. Come along, boys."

I looked back fearfully at Father Parker as he took his hand off Baldwin's throat and pushed him down into a pew. Baldwin gave him a murderous look and spat, "My Dad will have your ass," Then, he looked at me and said, "You're dead, Faggot."

"You're just digging yourself in deeper, Mike. If I were you, I'd be quiet now." Father Parker turned to me as I was about to walk into the hall.

"Scott, you and Jeff have nothing to fear anymore from the Baldwins. You have my word on that."

I looked down at the floor, not daring to believe it. I'd heard reassurances from adults before that everything would be OK.

As Jeff and I stood in the hall away from everyone, looking out the window of the west door of the church overlooking th athletic fields, Jeff looked at me and broke down crying. I wrapped my arms around him as he sobbed on my shoulder.

"Jeffy," I whispered as I held him. "It'll be OK. I'll take care of you."

In between sobs, he choked, "I'm....I'm such a coward. You fought him and I just stood there and cried like a baby."

"No, no. Its OK, Jeffy."

"No. Its not. I'm so sorry."

"Jeffy." I held him, squeezed him. Soon, the sobs subsided. I gave him my handkerchief and he wiped his nose and looked at me with red, puffy eyes.

"Come on," I said, opening the door. "We need to get to class."

Meekly, Jeff followed.

The class was deathly silent as we entered. Mr. Gordon raised a suspicious eyebrow, but when he saw Jeff's face, a look of concern came over his own. I walked up to him and handed him his wife's note as Jeff walked woodenly to his desk. I followed, but avoided looking at Baldwin the Younger. News of the incident in the church could not have reached the class yet, but I know that by the end of Second Hour, everyone would know.

Mr. Gordon resumed handing out the quizzes as he had been as we walked in.

When the bell rang for class change, I felt the dread in my chest. I just knew terrible things were in store for us. But, as Jeff and I stood at our lockers dropping off our Civics books, I overheard someone say, "He kicked Baldwin's ass!"

It couldn't have been me they were speaking off. Jeff and I went to Gym quietly, but as soon as we entered the locker room, everything quieted down and several of the boys looked at me. One, who was just pulling up his shorts near me, asked, "Is it true, Forrester? You really punched out Mike Baldwin?"

I didn't know what to say.

"Well, not really. I mean he was about to attack Jeff, so I kinda jumped on him and... I don't know. I don't really remember."

"Man, that took guts," he said with admiration in his voice.

"Yeah," someone else said.

I looked around the room and several guys were nodding their heads, even Jack Spenser. What was wrong here?

Coach came out of the office and barked, "Come on, girls! Get your butts out there! Now!"

I jumped to my gym locker and began to work the dial on the Master Lock when I heard someone yell, "Hey, Coach! Forrester kicked Baldwin's ass this morning!"

I looked up at Coach in fear, but saw a look of surprise on his face.

"Really?" he asked with surprise. Turning away, I heard him say to himself, "Well, its about damn time somebody did."

It was like this the entire day. Everyone suddenly seemed to look upon me with a new respect. During lunch hour, people actually said "hi" to me as I walked in with Jeff. And, as we sat at a corner table eating our Turkey Tetrazzini, (not feeling the necessity to escape to the church), Eric Penfield joined us.

"You mind if I sit here?" he asked politely.

Jeff and I looked at each other in surprise and, together, replied, "No! Go ahead!"

We all three shared a laugh as Eric took his seat.

"Do you mind if I ask what happened this morning?"

I didn't really feel like recounting the events, but I gave a synopsis of what happened, with frequent interruptions from Jeff enhancing my descriptions of my activities. Eric simply shook his head in wonder as he ate his Tetrazzini.

"No one, and I mean no one has ever stood up to the Baldwins before. Even their big brother, Robert, who graduated last year. Man, they get away with everything. People are afraid not to be their friends because they show no mercy to their enemies."

If Eric was trying to make me feel better, he was failing miserably.

"Father Parker said we didn't have anything to worry about anymore. He said he was going to take care of the Baldwins."

Eric shook his head. "The only way to take care of a Baldwin is to kill him. His dad's on the Board of Trustee's and he's the President of Mercantile Bank. His grandad is the bank's chairman. They don't just bully their way around the school. They bully their way around the whole city."

Jeffy had seemed so happy when we had first sat down, but now he looked at me with a new concern which I felt within, as well.

"You'd better hope Father Parker is right," Eric said. "Although, I wonder why the police didn't want to talk to you two."

I hadn't thought about that. If the police came to take Mike Baldwin away, they would have wanted to question Jeff and me about what happened. They hadn't. Now, I was really worried.

"Of course, it was really brave of you to stand up to him like that," Eric added with admiration in his voice. After a pause, he added very softly, "Jeff's really lucky to have a friend like you."

Surprised, I turned my face to Eric and saw a look of respect on his face; and, something else, though I couldn't tell what. Our eyes met for a moment and held, just a fraction of a second too long, before Jeff said, "Yeah, I'm the luckiest guy in the world."

I looked at Jeff in surprise, thinking he was being sarcastic. However, when I saw the almost worshipful look on his face, my heart melted and I felt my face flush with embarrassment.

When we finished our lunch, Jeff and I deposited our trays on the conveyor belt and walked out into the courtyard. Without a word, we began walking slowly and quietly toward the church. Dr. Penfield was playing his Bach again on the organ and Jeff and I smiled at each other as we walked over to what I now considered "our" pew. We both genuflected as we entered and then scooted to the center. We sat back and I felt Jeff's right hand slip around my left. I was startled, even though we had hugged on numerous occasions. This was the most overt show of affection I had seen with Jeff. Did it really mean he was gay or could it be that he was just affectionate, possibly a bit old-fashioned, harking back to days when boys could show such friendship without fear of being thought of as gay? I didn't know and, at that moment, I didn't really care. It just felt so good to sit here in the peace of the church, listening to Dr. Penfield's incredible interpretations of another Bach organ piece.

When, all too soon, the music came to an end, Jeff seemed to have a dreamy look on his face as he gazed up at the altar and the intricately carved screen behind it. Some movement in the corner of my vision caught my attention. Father Parker was emerging from the hallway.

"Well, I thought I might find you two here."

Almost guiltily, I pulled my hand from Jeff's. Father saw it and I thought I could detect the hint of a grin. He came up to our pew, genuflected and sat beside me.

"So how are you boys doing now?" he asked gently.

I wasn't certain what to say, but Jeff smiled shyly and whispered, "Pretty good, Sir. A lot better than this morning."

Father Parker smiled.

"I should imagine. Well, I don't think you have to worry about that sort of thing anymore. The headmaster sent Mr. Baldwin home this morning after the police came. His brother was also sent home for something else, and a conference with their parents has been scheduled for Tuesday. I think we about to take care of the problem of the Baldwin Boys once and for all."

I felt an incredible sense of relief and I could tell Jeff did, as well. I heard a sigh from my left and turned to see a beautiful smile on his face.

"You two may be invited to speak to the Headmaster during that meeting. If so, just tell them the truth about what happened this morning and everything will be OK."

"Yes, sir," we both responded simultaneously. Father Parker smiled.

"I know that you were the victim of some terrible bullying last year, Jeff. Has this been going on pretty regularly? Are their many boys who bully you? You, too, Scott. Have others been bullying you, as well?"

I looked down, not wanting to whine, but at the same time grateful that someone actually seemed interested in what was happening to me, to us.

"Well... kinda. But, I think things might get better now."

"Yeah," Jeff agreed. "I think things will get a lot better now."

Father Parker took a deep breath and smiled.

"Jeff, why don't you talk your friend into joining you here Sunday. Jeff's in our youth group here at the church. It might be a nice way for you to get involved in things and make some friends, Scott."

I looked at Jeff, surprised that he was involved. I don't know why, but it just didn't seem to me that Jeff was a very religious guy, even though he admitted to coming into the church regularly during his lunch hour to escape the animals. He blushed a bit and said, "I'll talk to him, Father."

"I'm glad, Father Parker replied warmly. "I think you two are good friends and it would be great for both of you."

He squeezed my shoulder and stood up.

"If either of you ever need to talk about anything, and I mean anything, if there is ever anything you are curious or worried about, my door is always open."

As we slowly made our way to the door in the south transept, Jeff looked at me strangely and whispered, "That was kinda weird, wasn't it."

"I wonder what he meant," I replied, knowing full well what he meant, but not knowing if Jeff realized, and, if so, if he would freak out. I knew I was gay and that I thought Jeff was the cutest, coolest guy I had ever met. However, I had no idea if Jeff was, though I did entertain some suspicious. Had Father Parker guessed? Was he giving us an invitation to discuss it with him? Could I discuss such a thing with a priest?

Once again, Mr. Ostrander was subdued in Fourth Hour History. This was worrisome to me. I wondered if something had happened because of his attempt to help me Thursday morning. I didn't dare ask, but I was very friendly to him as I entered and left class and he smiled at me both times.

Nothing strange happened to our way from Fifth Hour French, except that sitting in the same room with Jeff gave me yet another rather annoying erection which steadfastly refused to go away. Fortunately, I was able to avoid detection, as far I could tell, during the class change, and Mrs. Freeman did not require me to parade it around in front of the whole class during English. There were a few giggles from among the females in the back of the room, but other than that, English went by pretty well, so well, in fact, that some of the guys in the class were actually friendly to me. I began to feel, after the hell of the last few days, that, perhaps, despite all the false hopes I had entertained before, life at St. Stephen's might actually be nice after all!

There was chaos and joyous pandemonium as the final bell rang and students exploded from their classrooms to begin the Labor Day weekend. In the general scramble, I was able to make it to my locker and escape, once again, any notice of my persistent condition. As I slammed the door, I found Jeff behind me, grinning insanely.

"We're free! We're FREE! WE'RE FREE! BWAHAHAHA!"

I fell against my locker door, laughing hysterically at my friend. I had never seen him get so silly and it was so refreshing; and, cute.

"Let's get the heck outta Dodge," I said.

"Anything you say, Matthew," Jeff replied, sounding almost like Festus on Gunsmoke.

We took the back way out of the school, once again, but just as we reached Franklin we saw the Metrobus was just passing.

"Well," I said with a shrug, "I guess we'll have to walk. We shouldn't have any problems if we stay on Franklin. Surely nobody would do anything in front of all this traffic."

"Yeah," said Jeff with disappointment in his voice. "I guess. I was really in a hurry to get home, though."

"How come?"

He looked at me as if I were crazy.

"It's the Labor Day Weekend! We have three days of freedom! And..." he gave me the cutest grin I had seen on his sweet face, "you're spending the night!"

"Yeah, I'm looking forward to it. This'll be a blast. I've never been on a sleepover before."

Jeff looked at me in disbelief. "Never?"

"Well, not since we moved here. Not since fourth or fifth grade. I never had a friend to do it with."

Jeff was silent for a moment and then, in a voice I could barely hear above the traffic, said, "Well, you have a friend, now."

He was smiling shyly at me.

"I wish I could hug you right now," I said, just as shyly.

"I wish you could, too. I like it when you hug me. It feels nice."

We were silent for a couple of blocks as we walked home, just happy to be in each other's presence. Finally, Jeff broke the quiet.

"So what do you want to do tonight?"

I thought.

"Well, I can bring my telescope over and we can look at the moon. There aren't any planets visible tonight, but the moon will be good."

"I was hoping we could do that," Jeff replied. "You know a lot about astronomy?"

"Well, kinda. I like to read about space and Daddy and I used to go out a lot and look at the moon and the planets. It was fun."

Jeff paused and then asked, "You miss him a lot, don't you?"

I could only nod.

"Well, maybe you and I can do stuff like that."

I smiled at him, but just as the moment was about to get awkward, Jeff's face took on a mischievous look and he asked, "So, did you have your little problem in Sixth Hour again?"

"What little problem?"

Jeff snickered. He held his right fist out and slowly extended his index finger until it was pointing rigidly outward.

"No," I replied with mock indignation.

"Liar," he said with a grin. "You had it in Fifth Hour!"

"Well, look who's talking! You were walking around with your hands in your pockets all hour!"

Jeff giggled. "Yeah, I was. Well, I can't help it."

Suddenly, the smile on his face disappeared and he looked pensive.

"Its weird," he began. "Sometimes, I think I'm a freak. I just get hard so much. Its like I'm hard all the time and it never goes down. Do you think that's weird?"

I shrugged. "Probably not. I mean, I get hard a lot, too. Even when I'm not thinking about something sexy, I get hard. Its probably because of puberty. Maybe things will settle down later on."

Jeff snorted. "Yeah, I guess." He paused. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure, anything."

We were approaching Twenty-fourth Street. There was a Catholic church on the corner with a little grassy area in the front and a bench under a magnolia tree. Jeff led me over to it and sat down. Curious about a question that would require so much preparation, I sat beside him and waited. Jeff took a deep breath.

"Do you beat-off a lot?"

For five days, I had looked at this guy and thought he was the most beautiful boy I had ever seen. For four nights, I had found myself lost in dreams of hugging, kissing, loving this boy. The passion I had felt as I found myself nearly screaming as I reach that ultimate point was beyond anything I had ever known. I knew that in the back of my mind, (hell, in the front, the side, the top, and the bottom of my mind), was the thought that something might happen on the sleepover Friday night. However, Jeff's question had me frozen. This could be a setup to move on to something, or it could be a genuine question reflecting his concern over his sex drive. It was clear Jeff was not comfortable with his sexual feelings, or at least the intensity of them. How was I supposed to answer this? What if I gave an answer that was too sexual, too "naughty?" What if I scared him off, or made him disgusted, (as I had with my unthinking denial of being "white trash")? What if I said something that made me sound too gay and I was misjudging Jeff and he wasn't gay? I looked him in the eyes and saw a true sincerity. He needed to know the truth. I would give it to him.

"I don't know if it's a lot or not, but I do it pretty frequently, I guess."

"How much?"

I took a breath.

"I guess maybe three, four times a day."

I heard a sigh of relief from Jeff.

"Me, too."

I looked down. "Sometimes more."

"Me, too."

I looked Jeff in the face. He seemed so relieved.

"Feel better?" I asked.

Jeff smiled. "Yeah. Maybe I'm not as big a freak as I thought."

"Well, unless, I'm a freak, too!"

Jeff giggled. "Well, we can be freaks together."

As soon as he said it, though, he became embarrassed and looked away.

"Well..." I responded; but, Jeff jumped up before I could continue and started walking toward the corner and the light. I picked up my book bag and followed.

After we had crossed, first, Franklin, and then Twenty-fourth, Jeff turned to me again.

"So, when do you do it?"

This was more than I was prepared for, yet it thrilled me to talk about it. I was hard as stone and held my blazer over my crotch to cover up for the oncoming traffic.

"Well, I always do it in the morning when I wake up and when I take a shower at night."

"Yeah, I love to do it when I take a shower. I like to use the soap and get it all smooth and slick." Then, Jeff looked away, apparently embarrassed at admitting so much. I laughed.

"Yeah, I now what you mean," I said, and he seemed to appear to feel better.

I continued. " Sometimes, if I still feel sexy, I do it when I go to bed."

"So, that's three times a day. When's the fourth time? Or more?"

I grinned. "What is this, an investigation? Are you Mike Wallace?"

Jeff laughed. "Who's that?"

"Don't you watch Sixty Minutes?"

Jeff rolled his eyes. "I never watch the news. Now, quit avoiding the questions. When are the other times?"

"Well... sometimes I do it after school."

"Sometimes?"

"OK. Almost everyday, depending on if I have time."

I wanted to get off the main street and away from the traffic. When we came to Avondale, just a block from Berkshire, I pulled at Jeff and we entered the neighborhood.

"So you like to do it after school, too," Jeff said.

"Yeah, I guess that's the time I need to do it the most."

The tone of Jeff's voice was definitely more confident than it had been earlier. "Yeah. I'm usually feeling so sexy and excited after school that I can't stand it."

We both giggled.

We passed Twenty-third and Jeff stopped in the shade of a giant old oak tree to adjust his pants and shift his book bag and blazer between hands. When we resumed walking, I grinned at him and asked, "You hard right now?"

Jeff grinned back. "Yeah, I'm real hard. You?"

"Yeah."

"You gonna do it when you get home."

"Yeah. You?"

"Yeah."

The silence was deafening. I wanted to ask Jeff if he wanted to come up to my room and do it with me, but I was afraid of Mother catching us. And, I still wasn't sure just how far I could go with Jeff. I was hoping he would ask me. I looked expectantly at him. He was watching me and looked down at the street as we were walking.

"I guess I'm real lucky my mom's at work when I get home so I can I have some privacy."

"Yeah." I paused. "I sure wish I had some privacy."

"You're up in the attic."

"Yeah, but sometimes, Mother comes up to bring my laundry and stuff. I have to be careful."

"Ah."

Another pause. And, then....

"Well, um, if ah, if you ever need to do it in private and you don't want to worry about anyone catching you... you, ah... you can do it over at my place."

We had reached our street and turned right toward my house, which was at the end of the block. I was almost light-headed with fear and anticipation.

"That... that would be cool."

"Really?" The relief in Jeff's voice was more than apparent.

"Yeah, that would be cool. Thanks. I need a place to do it where I don't have to worry about anyone catching me."

We took a few more steps and then, the question I was praying for.

"So... are you feeling like you need to do it now?"

I grinned.

"Yeah, my dick is really hard. I really need to beat-off bad right now."

Jeff grinned really big.

"Me, too. So... you wanna come over now and do it?"

The moment had arrived. All I had to do was say yes. That was all.

We walked past a house, then another, then another; then, we were in front of my house. We stopped.

Jeff was looking at me. He was still grinning.

"Come on," he said softly, seductively. "You know you want to."

I looked at him and the fear dissolved.

"Let me run upstairs real quick and change and grab my overnight bag."

"Alright! I'll meet you at my place!"

And, with that, Jeff took off up the street. I ran into the house and tripped over a chair in front of the TV.

"Way to go, dork," the Brat spat.

"Kiss my butt," I retorted as I struggled to pick up my blazer and book bag.

"Hey, move! I can't see the TV!"

"Oh, forgive me for blocking the great and powerful Pufinstuf!"

"Its not Pufinstuf, stupid! It's....

But, I was gone before I could hear anything else. Mother was putting away groceries as I ran through the kitchen.

"Are you eating over there?" she called out as I ran up the stairs in the utility room.

"Yes, ma'am."

I don't remember ever undressing as fast as I did that afternoon. I threw on a pair of Bermuda shorts, and an Izod, grabbed some clothes for Saturday, a pair of short pajamas, (which I hoped I wouldn't need), and my toothbrush and toothpaste, threw it all in my overnight bag and flew down the steps in less than two minutes.

"See ya tomorrow!" I yelled as I ran back through the house. I couldn't hear Mother's response and I was only vaguely aware of something nasty sounding being vomited up from the oral cavity of the Brat as I burst out the front door.

Jeff was just as breathless as I when he met me at his front door wearing nothing but a pair of tight cut-off's. I was speechless as I looked at him, his slim torso, slender arms, revealed in all their beauty. That grin hadn't left his face since the subject of our impending fun had first been broached.

After a moment of my staring at him in dumbfounded silence, Jeff turned, but not before grabbing my free hand, pulled me into the house, slammed the door and took off to the basement. I followed.

When we arrived, he closed the door. The curtains were drawn and the room was dark except for two candles which had been lit, one on his desk and the other on the nightstand by his bed.

"Well?" he said displaying all of his beautiful white teeth. "What do you think?"

"This is pretty cool. I love candles."

"Yeah, I love beatin'-off by candle light. It makes it so much sexier, I think." He walked past me, over to his bed.

"Well, how do you want to do it?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, when I do it, I like to get naked."

This was getting better and better.

"Yeah, me too."

He looked at me expectantly.

"Well?"

"Oh." I blushed and then pulled my Izod up and over my head. I stood in only my shorts, my erection pressing outward and down my right leg. Jeff's tight shorts were bulging just as badly as mine.

"Let's take `em off together," he said.

"OK."

"OK. One," he popped the snap on his shorts as I did the same. "Two," he unzipped his zipper revealing to me that he wasn't wearing any underwear. "Three."

We both pushed our shorts down to our feet. I stood staring at Jeff in open-mouthed amazement. I had seen him naked in Gym several times. I had even seen him hard in Gym. But, discretion and fear had always prevented me from looking. There were no constraints now and I was stunned as I stared at his naked body.

Jeff was slim, shorter than me by maybe two or three inches. His arms and legs were slender and maybe too long for his body, yet beautiful nonetheless. I have already described the dreamlike perfection of his face, the angelic silver blond hair falling over his forehead and ears, the watery blue eyes, the pink cheeks, the sprinkling of freckles over his nose, the cute little pimples which seemed to interrupt the perfection just enough to remind one that this boy was real and not a fantasy. His puffy, pink lips seemed to beg me to kiss them. However, it was his penis that made me tremble.

It was not large, perhaps four inches; nor was it fat. It was slender with a slight upward curve, a purple, cone-shaped head and a pink circle about a half-inch behind. Two tight little balls, no larger than big marbles, clung snugly underneath as a tuft of silky, almost invisible, blond hair crowned the base of his penis as it throbbed rigidly at a nearly forty-five degree angle.

I don't know how long I stood there staring, but I was brought back to reality as I saw his right hand slowly rise from his side. His fingers slid across his hip until they came to the base of his penis. They pushed through the sparse hair and then wrapped, slowly, painfully slowly, around the shaft of his penis. He just held it, motionless, until I saw the fingers begin to gradually slide upward covering the head. Then, he began the journey downward. Back and forth, at a hypnotic pace, he stroked his penis, only gradually increasing the speed of his movement. I heard a gasp and looked up at his face. He was staring at me, open-mouthed, his eyes locked on my own penis, which I now realized I was stroking.

Our eyes met. Jeff closed his mouth and grinned bashfully.

"Come on," he said huskily as he climbed onto the bed. He sat Indian- style, facing the room. His penis stood rigidly vertical as he smiled beatifically at me. I was trembling as I climbed onto the bed in front of him.

"This is just so cool," he nearly whispered. "I've always wanted a friend who would do this with me."

I couldn't help smiling. His enthusiasm was just so cute. I wanted to just gobble him up right there! Instead, I wrapped my hand around my erection and started pumping.

The feeling was so incredible, so much better than when I did it alone. Watching Jeff make himself feel good made my own experience infinitely better; and, I could tell the same was true for him.

"This feels so good. Oh, God, this feels so good," he panted as he openly gazed at me.

"Oh, yeah," I replied with a husky voice. "This is the best jack-off I've ever had." These were the first words I had spoken since we had gotten naked and the sound of my voice surprised me.

I made no attempt to hide the fact that I was getting off on watching Jeff beat-off. The feeling in my penis was growing and I was getting a strange, wonderful feeling deep within behind my penis, almost as if it were in my rear-end, an urgent feeling that made me feel empty, needful.

We were both squirming and thrusting our hips as our fists rapidly worked our erections. Jeff had begun to gasp and pant as he stroked himself and little occasional groans escaped from his throat, groans that became more plaintive, more insistent as his squirming and thrusting grew more intense.

I was about to reach the peak and found myself crying out when, suddenly, Jeff cried out himself and threw his hand away from his penis. He sat, wild-eyed, his mouth open in a wordless scream, his body taught.

"Stop!" his voice quivered. "Don't do it yet! Make it last!"

I took my hand away. Had I waited just a second or two longer, I would have been shooting my young seed all over us.

I was trembling and unable to get my breath. Jeff's face was flushed. He suddenly rose up on his knees and sat back on his feet, his knees open wide, his rapidly throbbing penis still rigidly vertical between his legs. I did the same thing.

"God, Jeff, this is so incredible!" I whispered as I grabbed my penis once more. Jeff followed suit, said nothing, and smiled joyously as he began to pump away on his slender cock.

In only seconds, we were both moaning again as we pumped our cocks and thrust our hips. The feeling was building and I was going crazy, watching Jeff's beautiful penis as his gripping fist flew up and down.

At the same moment, we both rose up on our knees and cried out as we thrust out our hips and started shooting our cream on each other. I lost all touch with reality for several seconds until I realized I was about to pass out. As the spasms rocking our bodies subsided, we both collapsed backwards, our fists continuing to stroke, desperately trying to make the feeling last as long as possible, trying to milk every ounce of sperm and every last wondrous shudder.

We lay on our backs, our legs twisted under our bodies, gasping. After a few seconds, I looked over at Jeff, whose pink face was turned upward, his mouth open in desperate gulps of air, his eyes gazing at the ceiling as if the wonders of the universe had just been revealed. Slowly, he turned his head and looked at me. A smile grew upon the gasping mouth and, using his left hand to wipe the sweat from his forehead, he whispered, "Wow."

"Oh, Jeff," I concurred. "That was totally amazing."

He nodded in exhaustion. "Yeah, that was way cool."

We lay for several more minutes until, once again, Jeff looked at me.

"I am so glad you're my friend."

I could see the sincerity in his eyes and it almost brought tears to my own.

"Hey," I said with mock severity. "Don't get all mushy on me."

A brief look of fear came over Jeff's face, but when he saw me grinning, his beautiful lips formed a grin of his own.

I sat up and was about to lean over and kiss Jeff. It was time. I could do it. He would let me. I knew it. But....

The slamming of a car door, unmistakably that of a Ford station wagon, shocked us back to reality. Jeff sighed and reached up to the box of Puff's over his bed and pulled several out, handing a few to me. With happy and peaceful smiles, we wiped ourselves off and crawled back into our shorts and shirts. Jeff held his moist tissues up and grinned, softly singing, "And, here's to you, Mrs. Robinson." I broke up and rolled on the floor as we heard the door at the top of the stairs open. I looked at Jeff, he looked at me, and our eyes told each other more in those few seconds than we could have said in a day.

I was in love.