Date: Tue, 27 Jul 2004 18:15:59 -0700 From: Fritz Jorgensen Subject: The Summer of my Fifteenth Year Time once again for the usual disclaimer. Those of you who are too young, disapprove of stories containing descriptions of sex between males, and who live in an area where the reading of such a story is illegal, leave now. You shouldn't have been here in the first place. What are you trying to do? Get in trouble. Unless I miss my guess you're all ready in enough trouble with other things and don't need to add this to the list. For those of you who are still here, this story is for your enjoyment. (At least I hope it is.) It is also my property and as such you may read and enjoy it. You may not use it in any manner other than your own enjoyment. You have my permission to quote from it as long as you attribute it to me. The characters in this story are fiction. They were hatched in my twisted little mind and as such are in no way related to anyone living or dead. If you think otherwise, you are mistaken. If they happen to resemble anyone, it is purely coincidental. Feel free to email with any comments, suggestions, or criticisms you have. I try to answer all emails. I would request that if you are going to criticize, be specific. Just flaming me will probably draw an equally nasty reply. Same old email address of fritz@nehalemtel.net. In the meantime, I hope you enjoy the story. Fritz The Summer of my Fifteenth Year. It was the summer between my sophomore and junior years in high school. You remember how it was, don't you? It was a time of confusion. You were so busy trying to grow up that there were a lot of things you didn't think clear through. That got you in trouble a lot of the time. You were shy in lot of ways and couldn't bring yourself to share the things that really mattered to you with your friends. You were afraid they might laugh at you, or misunderstand you, or worse yet, tell someone else what you were thinking or saying. Pimples waxed and waned and made you self-conscious. You got erections at embarrassing moments. Your hormones had kicked in and sometimes you were so horny your testicles ached. You spent a lot of time with your hands in your pockets trying to keep things under control so a certain part of your anatomy wasn't the first thing people took notice of. Of course you checked out that same area in everyone else. Sometimes in class you paid attention. Other times your mind was a million miles away. You yearned for some adult that you could ask certain questions of but were too shy to do so and of course you would never dream of asking your folks those types of questions. (Ah, I can see by the expression on your face you do remember those days) In other words you were all screwed up. You thought you were the only one with those kinds of problems. You actually thought everyone else had it all figured out. All this confusion had been going on for a while and you were worried that it might go on forever. You knew a lot of the things your friends bragged about weren't true but you never called them on it because if you had, they would have called you on those same stories of yours. People talk about wishing they could live their life over, but when I think of that time I doubt that I would have the strength to get through it again. In other words I was a typical teenage boy except I had one other problem. I was gay. Now in that period in history several years back (all right, several severals) gays were not discussed in polite society. There were no gay lobbyists, no openly gay members of government, no gay publications commonly available or anything like that so in addition to the problems of being a teenager I had a lot more problems to deal with and no help available from anything or anyone to assist me. I wonder how I made it. I was a pretty good student and got along well with the teachers and my classmates. One of my teachers was a repressed artist. He had caught me doodling on a sheet of paper in Sunday school about four years ago and asked me if I liked to draw? I had been embarrassed but told him I did. He started giving me art lessons. It wasn't long before I knew I wanted to be an artist. After that I always packed a sketch pad and pencils with me. Some of the kids had tried to tease me about it but before long they just accepted it. It didn't hurt that I was pretty good and would give them sketches of themselves in which I had made them look a little better then they really did. It didn't hurt me with my friends either as the art books I got to study frequently had pictures of nudes. Way back then about the only way you could see nudes were in the National Geographic or Playboy and it was hard to find Playboy. They didn't put it out on the shelf like they do now. Instead, they kept it under the counter or in the back room and you had to ask for it. We were all to shy to ask so that left the Geographic and my art books as our only avenue in which to learn of the wonders of human anatomy. On the day this story starts, a bunch of us had been swimming and since the water was still pretty cold we had climbed up on some rocks in the middle of the river to sun ourselves and warm up. The conversation turned to sex as it almost always did. While we didn't know anything about sex, we wouldn't admit that to our friends. There were the usual lies about who we were getting it on with. I didn't say much. Finally one of my friends turned to me and said. "Kevin, you aren't saying much. What's wrong?" I hadn't been saying much because Nick was laying next to me on the rock and I was wildly in love with him. I had never told him but I had loved him since the first of those hormones had kicked in a few years back. He was my best friend and we slept over at each others house and ran around together. We were best friends. The way we were laying I could see the front of his bathing suit out of the corner or my eye. I had been imagining what I would like to do with what was inside that suit. Nick's folks were Italian and he had brown curly hair, brown eyes, an impish grin and a sunny personality that made all the girls in school want him. He also had broad shoulders for his age and to my mind a cute bubble ass that filled his jeans just right. We'd been friends since his folks had moved into town eight years before. Not being willing to admit what had been on my mind I went into a long story about how I had the hots for Patty, one of the cheerleaders and a senior. I told them how I went to sleep thinking of her and had wet dreams about her. As she had a steady boyfriend I figured I was pretty safe. They all told me my sights were too high and I should come down to earth and pick on some one I might have a chance with. I told them I couldn't do that, my heart was set on Patty. I was playing the unrequited love. That wasn't far from the truth so I managed to make it sound convincing and they seemed to sympathize with me. They started talking about who they would have if they could have anyone in the world. There were the usual movie stars and the best looking girls in school and as they talked I went back to dreaming about Nick, how I would suck his cock and make him happy. I had never sucked a cock and had no idea how to make anyone happy while doing so. I was like Walter Mitty*; in my mind I could solve all problems, in real life I wasn't doing that well. On the way back to town Nick and I discussed what we would do that evening. There was a good horror movie on television at eleven thirty so Nick said he'd sleep over as I had my own room with a television. Most of the kids envied me as my room as it was over the garage. It had originally been a guest room for the former owners of my folk's home. It had an attached bath and was separated enough from the house so that I could play the radio or record player pretty loud and not bother anyone. . To get to it you went into the garage and up a set of stairs. My folks and I had an agreement. They didn't go in except to inspect it about once a month and I had to keep it clean and neat. If it didn't pass inspection, privileges were withheld. It didn't take me long to figure out that it wasn't that hard to keep it clean and neat. When they bought the new television I got the old one. It didn't work very well but if you knew just where to hit it and how hard, you could make it work. We stopped at the store that Nick's father owned to get some pop and snacks and spent about an hour and a half working as bag boys so we got our snacks for free. Nick's father said it was okay if he stayed over with me. Now I'm always torn about having Nick stay over. I wanted him so badly I was constantly hard. He kept saying I was oversexed. It had turned into a standard joke. Every time we were alone together I would get to thinking about him and get a boner. It was hell. I kept thinking and thinking about how to bring up what was on my mind but always chickened out. I was afraid I'd loose him as a fried and worse yet, he might tell someone else. Then my secret would be out and I didn't think I could face the world if that happened. When I got home I checked with Mom and she said it was okay so I called Nick and he said he would be over about nine. After that I mowed the lawn and finished the rest of my chores. When dad got home we had dinner and after I'd helped clean up the kitchen we watched some television. Bonanza was on and we all enjoyed it. Nick was due over about the time the program was done. When he got there, we spent a few minutes talking with my folks and then we went to my room. We talked about the latest science fiction we were reading and argued about who the best authors were. I argued for George O. Smith and he liked John W Campbell. Since we both liked Robert Heinlein we didn't have to argue about him. It had been warm that day and my room was still hot so we stripped down to our shorts. Of course I immediately got hard. He started ragging me with his usual comments about me being oversexed. I shot back that if he wasn't so damn cute I wouldn't have that problem. Now that was much further than I had ever gone before. He got a surprised look on his face and I laughed and said I was just thinking of Patty. We watched a little television and clowned around for a while. Just before the movie we wanted to see came on, I slipped my jeans on and told him I was going to get the snacks. Mom was supposed to have some popcorn ready to go with the rest of our stuff. When I got to the kitchen she didn't have the popcorn started so I hit the intercom and told him it would be a few minutes. He told me not to worry, he'd read until I got back. It took a while to get the stove and pan hot enough to make popcorn and melt the butter but in about fifteen minutes I had it ready and taking the rest of the stuff headed back. When I got there he wasn't reading. Instead he was looking intently at one of my sketch books. I put the snacks on the table and headed over to see which one he was looking at. He's always liked my sketches and frequently looks my work over. When I was about halfway across the room he turned a page and I realized which one he had. It was my private one, the one I had never shown to anyone. It was the one I looked at when I jacked off. In it were my hopes, my dreams, and my desires. It was an open path to my heart and soul. It was filled with only sketches of Nick. I'd seen him naked in the locker room so I knew exactly what he looked like. The sketches were pretty explicit. They didn't leave much to the imagination. There were ones of just Nick and others of Nick and I. They were fantasies of what I wanted to do. I froze. I didn't have any idea of what to do or say. I thought I'd hidden it. He was looking at it so intently that he didn't seem to realize I had returned. As he turned the pages I got redder and redder and felt worse and worse. I just knew he would never speak to me again. When he got to the end he turned to the front and started over. It seemed to go on forever. I was in agony. I couldn't think of any way to explain away those sketches that made any sense. I was about to cry. I wished I was anyplace but where I was. When he got to the end the second time he spoke. "God Kevin, these are so hot." He continued to look at the last picture. It was of him riding me bareback. I still couldn't think of anything to say. Finally he looked up at me and said, "Why am I in them?" He just sat there on the edge of the bed holding the sketch book in his hands and looking at me. "Because I love you" I blurted out. "Oh." He started looking at the pictures again. It must have taken him ten minutes to go through them again. His expression never changed. It was the most serious I had ever seen him. Finally he looked up and asked "Like in these pictures?" I couldn't speak so I just nodded. I closed my eyes and could feel the tears run down my cheeks. I knew I had lost my best friend. I knew there was nothing I could say or do that would ever change what he had seen in those pictures. The most I could hope for was that he would be embarrassed by them and not tell anyone. I wished I had never been born. I hung my head and I could feel the tears drip off the end of my nose. I didn't know what I would do without him. I felt so alone and helpless. I heard the bed squeak and figured he was getting ready to leave. I couldn't look up. I just stood there with my head down and silently sobbed. I figured my life was over. Then I heard his voice. It was softer then I think I ever heard it before. "Kevin?" There was a pause. "Kevin?" His voice was a little louder this time. I couldn't answer him. I was heartbroken. I just continued to stand there and let the tears drip off my nose. "Kevin!" Once again his voice had gotten louder. I still just stood there. "KEVIN, LOOK AT ME!!!!!" he shouted. Slowly I raised my head and peered at him through tear filled eyes. He was standing there with his boxers around his ankles, his hips thrust forward and his arms reaching out as though to embrace me. He looked exactly like one of those sketches except he didn't have the impish grin I had given him. Also his cock stood straighter up instead of jutting forward as I had drawn it. "You're not mad at me?" I sobbed. "No." "Were still friends?" I managed to gasp out. There was a long pause. It was if he couldn't figure out quite what to say. "No. We're not friends." A somewhat long pause, "We're more then that." All of a sudden it was if a dam had burst. I could hear his voice and it was filled with emotion. "I couldn't figure out how to tell you what I wanted to say. I made jokes about how horny you were. I could never follow up on them. In my mind I had the perfect line but when I was with you I couldn't say it. Tonight when you made that crack about me being so cute I just about confessed. I found your sketch book under the bed. When I looked at them I thought I knew but wasn't sure. When you told me you loved me I thought my heart would stop. I couldn't believe it." I no longer felt sad. I no longer wished I was dead. I suddenly knew he felt the same way about me as I felt about him. I walked over to him and put my arms around him and kissed him. Well, I tried to kiss him but missed and kissed his nose. He giggled and then I giggled and we wrapped our arms around each other and fell on the bed laughing. I could feel the tension draining from my body as we lay there giggling and holding each other. "That didn't go too well." he chuckled. I grinned. "Do you think we need practice?" We tried again. Our lips made contact and it was like the heavens opened and the angles sang. We didn't know much about kissing but we knew this was special. Finally we had to breathe. "God, you make my balls ache." he gasped. "Maybe I can do something about that." I reached over and started fondling him. I could hear him gasp when my hand slid under his boxers and my fingers made contact with him. Finally, my goal was within my grasp. Suddenly I realized I wanted more. I wanted to taste him and suck on him like all my dreams had been about. It didn't make any difference that I had no idea of how to go about sucking on a cock. I just wanted him. I told him to stand up and I knelt in front of him. He pulled back and said maybe we should wait. "I promise not to get pregnant." was my reply. I know it was dumb but it was the first thing that popped into my mind. He burst out laughing again and fell back on the bed. I finally got him back on his feet in front of me. All of a sudden the nervousness was gone. This was something I had to get through. My nose was close to him. I could smell his musky sent. God he smelled good. Sort of musky and sexy and sweaty. It made me hotter. I licked his cock. The taste wasn't quite what I'd expected although it wasn't offensive. I could hear his breath as it hissed in and out through his clenched teeth. I opened my mouth and put it over his cock. He moved forward and it hit the back of my mouth and start of my throat. I gagged and chocked and started coughing. He jerked back and I could hear real concern in his voice. "Are you all right?" "This isn't going like I expected," I managed to get out when I'd quit coughing. "Maybe we ought to wait." I took a deep breath. "We just have to keep trying." I took him in my mouth again. I wasn't used to opening my mouth that far. My hands were on his hips and I could feel him tense. He moved forward again but more slowly. I was able to rock back when he got reached the back of my mouth and got close to my throat. I could just feel his pubic hair with the tip of my nose. "Oh God, that feels good," I heard him say. I didn't know exactly how good it felt to him but it sure tasted good to me. I had my eyes closed. All those dreams of mine were coming true. I drew my head back until just the head and a little of the shaft were still in my mouth. I tried to feel what it was like with my tongue. It felt so strange and so good in my mouth. He moaned. I had always wondered what a moan was. I had looked it up in the dictionary but it didn't make much sense. Now I knew. The saliva was collecting in my mouth so I swallowed. He moaned some more and thrust further into my mouth. I kept exploring with my tongue. He felt so hard and so soft. I couldn't understand how anything could be both hard and soft. I took all of him that I could into my mouth. I sucked as hard as I could and drew my head back, his cock slowly sliding out of my mouth. As I moved my head towards him he thrust forward into my mouth. We kept this up for little while. We were starting to get the proper rhythm and motion down when the muscles in his ass tensed and he drove his cock deep into my throat. His hands were on my head now and I couldn't get away. I started to gag and he drew back and lunged again. When he lunged my nose was buried in his pubic hair. All of a sudden my mouth was full of his fluid. It tasted wonderful. I was gasping and panting and chocking and trying to swallow. I did none of them well. I didn't really care. I was in Heaven. He lunged some more and I could feel his semen leaking out of my mouth. He was gasping and grunting and lunging at me. I couldn't take all of him without gagging but I wanted more of him. It didn't take long and he was done. He leaned forward and put his hands beside my head and on his knees. He was panting and sweating and I could feel his sweat drip on the back of my neck and shoulders. "My God Kevin, that was great. That felt so cool. Let me suck yours and you'll see." I tried to answer but couldn't get my voice to come out of my abused throat. After clearing it a couple of times I managed to say "I can't." "You won't let me?" He sounded distraught. I stood up and pulled my jeans down. The front of my briefs were soaked in semen. "I'll have to have a couple of minutes to recover. When you erupted in my mouth I creamed my jeans." I took my briefs off and we flopped naked on the bed and giggling. In a short while our breathing returned to as near normal as it was going to get that night. "What's it taste like?" he asked. He was laying on his back and a little of his fluid had gathered at the tip of his cock. I licked it off and then kissed him, sticking my tongue into his mouth. As we continued to kiss I could feel he was getting hard again. So was I. We broke the kiss. "Looks like you're about ready," he said as he started fondling my cock. He got off the bed and on his knees and I moved to stand close to him. I could feel his warm breath on my cock and nuts and it seemed like I was on fire. He put his hands on my hips and I put my hands on his head and ran my fingers through his curly brown hair. He hadn't even touched my cock and already I was panting in anticipation. I felt his tongue on my cock and I shivered all over. It was like his mouth and tongue burned whatever they touched only it didn't hurt. It seemed to expand my senses and make my nerves more sensitive. He licked me a couple of times. I thought I would fly apart, like a bomb had gone off inside me. Every time he licked it sent shivers throughout me. I could feel my heart hammering like I was nearing the finish line of a long race and if I could go a little faster I would win and I was trying as hard as I could. His tongue felt kind of raspy and hot and slick and it was the most wonderful sensation I had ever experienced. So many emotions and feelings were going through me I felt like I couldn't contain them. I just trembled all over and wanted it to go on forever. I just knew that it couldn't get any better then this. Boy was I wrong. When he took me in his mouth it was ecstasy! All the years of dreaming of this didn't begin to compare to what I felt. It was so much better then my mind had ever imagined anything could be. The feel of his hot mouth, the pressure of his tongue, his nose in my pubic hair were beyond description. I wanted it to last forever but it didn't. I couldn't help it. I came. It had to be at least a million times better then jacking off. When it was over we just lay on the bed grinning at each other. Neither of us could figure out how to tell the other how wonderful it had been. We were in Nirvana. We spent the rest of the night and that summer learning how to please each other. I called Nick over to see what I had written. When he had finished he looked up at me with that impish grin and said. "It was a lot better then you described it." "I know, but until we come up with a better language it's the best I can do." He got up and walked over to his desk and digging around in the bottom drawer extracted a scrap book and handed it to me. When I opened it I saw those sketches, the ones I had given him that night. I have matured as an artist and my work is much more subtle and accomplished, yet as I looked at them for the first time in over forty years I could see the talent and the raw passion I had back then. "You kept them all these years?" I asked. "When you submit that story you could include a couple of them," he said while grinning at me. I thought for a few seconds. "No. I don't mind sharing the story but I won't share you." He grinned at me. I could tell it was going to be a long night. The End *The reference is to a book called The Secret Life of Walter Mitty by James Thurber. I read it in high school many years ago and if you haven't I would recommend it to you. Walter Mitty is what would probably be described as a nerd. In his daydreams he can rescue fair maidens and defeat evil. In real life he's a klutz. It's a light and funny book.