This story involves sexual contact and male/male relationships. If this is something that you find offensive, you have no business being here and need to leave now. If you are under the age of 18 or not of legal age in your area, GET OUT. If this content is illegal in your area LEAVE.
This story is property of the author and is not to be copied or posted elsewhere without written permission of the author. All characters and plot lines are fictional. Any resemblance is strictly coincidental and should be noted as such.
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“Don’t?” he asked me as though he didn’t comprehend the meaning of the word.
“I’m sorry,” I managed to get out with much difficulty, “but I’m … n-not ready for that.”
As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I began feeling like a weirdo. Just what was it exactly that I wasn’t ready for, I asked myself? I’d liked the savage for years and years and now that he was finally my boyfriend, I was suddenly not ready for him to touch my chest. What irony.
I finally got the courage to look up into the savage’s eyes. They weren’t filled with fury, but they weren’t exactly happy either. I silently willed him to understand and accept what I had said.
After a moment he let out a long suffering sigh and said, “Connor, we’ll take this as slow as you want, but I … I need to touch you.”
There was so much longing in his voice that I felt my resolve weaken and I almost relented, but I managed to resist the temptation to acquiesce to request.
“I’m not ready for that,” I repeated, this time in a stronger voice.
The savage made a small sound of frustration before his hand dropped down and he withdrew it from my shirt. I feared that he would get angry and leave so I sat still, watching to see what he would do.
I waited, silent and watchful, for long moments while he remained silent. The two of us remained on the bed, close but not quite touching as if trying to decide what to do next while trying to discern what the other was thinking.
When he continued to remain silent, I ventured to ask, “Are you … are you angry at me?”
He didn’t immediately respond and I began to dread that he was, in fact, upset with me for calling a halt to our make out session.
“Conner,” he finally said, “are you … is this … is this because of Paul?”
“Paul?” I asked, confused. What did Paul have to do with anything?
“I know how you feel about him and you know that he and I … that we …,” he broke off before shrugging helplessly. “I just thought maybe you didn’t want me to touch you because I had been with him.”
I guess I understood what he was saying, but it had never occurred to me before that he would consider his relationship with Paul to be the reason for my reluctance. That was mostly because I didn’t like to think of him dating Paul and the things that they had done together.
I remained quiet and the savage finally asked, “Is that why you don’t want to have sex with me?”
“No,” I said immediately, but my quick response did nothing to diminish the look of concern on his face.
“If that’s not it, then what’s the problem?” he asked.
I was scared that it would come to this. Now I would have to tell him that I was scared. Scared of being inexperienced and inadequate.
I glanced up and caught him staring at me expectantly and I lost my nerve. There was no way that I could tell him what I was thinking. I just couldn’t do it.
“I’m just not ready okay?” I said, my inner turmoil making my words sound snappier than I intended.
I watched as the savage’s eyebrows sunk down into a frown and a knot of fear tightened in my belly. I knew something like this would happen. I could almost see the thoughts turning in his head. Why would he want to be with someone like me when there were several boys out there that he could be with that would be willing to put out?
Just when I expected him to get up and walk out, the savage surprised me by falling back onto my bed and flinging his arms over his eyes. It was a gesture of weariness and frustration. I wanted to do or say something to make him feel better, but the only thing that would do that would be to agree to let him touch me and I just couldn’t do that yet.
Still, that didn’t mean that I couldn’t touch him. I turned my body so that I was facing him as he lay beside me and tentatively reached out my hand and placed it on his belly. I felt the muscles of his abdomen tense underneath his t-shirt but he made no move to either withdraw. In fact, except for the tell tale tensing of his belly, he didn’t acknowledge my touch in any way, but I knew that he had felt it.
I wasn’t sure what I had been expecting him to do, but since he clearly wasn’t going to do anything, it was up to me to do something. I couldn’t decide whether to move my hand up or down, but after deciding that it was safer for the time being to move away from his erection, I settled for sliding my hand slowly up his torso.
The savage still didn’t move and I began to worry that my actions were having no effect. I still didn’t know if I was trying to soothe him or arouse him, but I did want to make him feel better. When my hand reached the base of his neck and he still hadn’t made any move to acknowledge what I was doing, I cupped his elbow and ran my finger up his arm. I took a hold of his hand and pulled it away from his eyes. He resisted briefly, but let me.
His beautiful eyes connected with mine and I saw resignation in their depths. I began to lean forward, slowly, giving him time to gage my intention and respond to it.
“What are you doing?” he asked quietly when I was about an inch away.
“Kissing you,” I responded, repeating his words back to him as I pressed my lips against his own.
He stayed stiff at first and let me fumble while I awkwardly tried to get my tongue into his mouth without his guidance or assistant. He didn’t help or participate in any way and left me questioning my decision to kiss him.
Just when I was ready to give up and admit defeat, I felt his hand come up and cup the back of my head, just before he groaned and his mouth fell open. He began to kiss me back, not with the usual deep, sensuous strokes of his tongue, but with slight little brushes that I barely felt.
I was laying half on top of him with my dick pressed to his hip. I knew he could feel how aroused I was, but he made no move to touch me or take things further than kissing. I wasn’t used to that. Usually the savage was on me as soon as we started making out and this was the first time he had shown so much restraint.
Something inside me felt challenged and I wanted to test that restraint. I threw myself into the kiss, curling my fingers against the side of his neck. I felt the rumble in his chest as he let out a deep groan and pleasure spread throughout my body at having been able to elicit such a sound from him.
A second later he placed his other hand on my waist and held me. I shifted again so that I was lying more on him and our legs intertwined. His body felt hard and big underneath my own and the feel of our flesh touching, even through our clothing, at so many spots made my dick even harder.
On the surface our kissing was lazy, slow and sweet, but underneath a heat was building that had me wishing our positions were reversed; that the savage was on top of me, his delightful body weight pressing heavily onto me. I wanted him over me, around me, inside me. That thought jolted me.
To divert my thoughts from the direction they were headed, I applied myself even more intently to the kiss. I speared my fingers into the hair at his nape, feeling the silky strands. I bit and sucked and explored, I became the aggressor and the savage let me. And maybe it was because he just lay there, but something inside me wanted to make him respond more passionately.
In the back of my mind, I knew what I was doing was wrong. There was no sense in starting something I wasn’t ready to finish, but I couldn’t help myself. I placed my other hand on his chest, the palm directly over his nipple. I could feel the pebbled little nub under my hand. I began to massage his chest slowly in a circular motion.
I felt his entire body tightened and allowed myself a small victory smile. Our bodies were rubbing intimately against each other, almost without our knowledge. I wondered what it would feel like to be with him like this naked and my thoughts skidded to a halt. This was dangerous territory, and if I were having such carnal thoughts I could only imagine what was going through the savage’s head. It was time to bring things to an end.
I slowly pulled away, gasping for air and asked, “Is it … is it okay if we take it slow for a while?”
The savage didn’t reply immediately and I could feel his heart beating erratically under my palm.
“If that’s what you want,” he finally said.
And that’s how things were from then on. The savage and I took things slow. Very, very slow. So slow, in fact, that he never initiated anything with me again after that day in my bedroom. At first I thought he was respecting my wishes and giving me space, but as time went on I became worried.
Whereas before he had always been the one to kiss me first, he no longer made any moves towards me. On the surface, everything about our relationship seemed fine, but knowing the savage as well as I did, I knew that something wasn’t right.
He was attentive and considerate, just as he had always been, but he was also physically distant almost to the point of being unresponsive. He was never obvious or blatantly indifferent, but as time went on I began to notice how he would move away whenever I came to close, like he was trying to avoid touching me.
I tried not to let his behavior hurt and told myself he was only doing what I wanted, but I knew, deep down, that he wasn’t just keeping his distance because I asked him to – he was keeping his distance because he wanted to and that was much worse. Three weeks after his drastic behavioral change, I decided to ask him about it.
I knew that morning when I woke up that I had had enough. I waited until lunch before going to see the savage. I went up to our table where all the guys were sitting. Everyone said hi as I approached and I called out a common greeting in response. When I reached the savage’s side, I lowered my voice and said, “Hi.”
Without giving it much thought, I automatically bent down and placed a light kiss on his lips. I tried not to notice how he stiffened and pulled back just a little before the kiss was over.
“Hi,” he replied with a forced looking smile when I raised my head.
I sat down next to him as though nothing had happened and again tried not to notice how he immediately shifted away from me. Not enough to create an obvious gap, but enough to ensure that our bodies weren’t touching. I tried to act like nothing was wrong, but I couldn’t help but notice that something wasn’t right.
I waited till it was almost the end of lunch and then grabbed his hand as we were exiting the cafeteria. He didn’t pull away but his hand remained limp, clasped in my own. He didn’t say anything as I led him down the hall. When we reached my locker, I was unable to contain my worry any longer and I turned to him and asked, “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah,” he responded, not quite looking at me, his gaze fixed on some distant point over my left shoulder.
“Okay,” I said slowly. I wanted to challenge his obvious lie, but I knew that it was neither the right time nor place.
“I was gonna ask you to come over to my place after school today. My folks won’t be home and there’s something I really need to talk to you about.”
For a moment it looked like he would refuse before he said, “Okay.”
“Great. I’ll see you then,” I said with forced brightness, trying to cover his obvious lack of enthusiasm.
I leaned forward to kiss him again, but he turned his face away from mine, clearing his throat and saying, “I’ve gotta go. I have to see coach about something before lunch is over.”
He didn’t wait for me to respond he just pulled his hand from my grasp, then turned and started walking away. I stood at my locker staring after him and feeling completely lost. I knew I wasn’t just imagining things. Something was very, very wrong.
My thoughts were running wild with a number of possibilities. Maybe he was mad at me. Maybe I had done something to upset him. Maybe he didn’t like me any more and was regretting going out with me. That last possibility was a real downer. I was so absorbed in my misery that I didn’t hear Griff’s approach until it was too late.
“Hey loser,” Griff said, bumping up against my shoulder as he came up behind me.
“Hey,” I said, unable to muster up any enthusiasm.
“What’s the matter with you?” he asked.
“Nothing. It’s just … nothing,” I said.
“You seem pretty bummed over ‘nothing’,” he said, using his fingers to make air quotes as he said the word.
I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t want to go into my relationship troubles at the moment so I just stayed mute.
After a moment he said, “Oookay. I can see that you’re not ready to share whatever it is that’s bothering you, so I won’t bug you.”
“If you don’t want to bug me then stop being so fucking nosy,” I snapped.
I watched Griff’s expression fall and immediately regretted taking my bad mood out on him.
“Sorry,” I sighed, “things are just … I can’t talk about it right now.”
Griff nodded to show that he accepted my apology, but his expression still seemed slightly hurt. Over the last several weeks, Griff and I had gotten even closer. As my relationship with the savage shifted more from best friend to boyfriend, I found my relationship with Griff shifting more from casual friend to close friend. I didn’t want him to think I was shutting him out now.
“Listen,” I said, “we’ll talk about it later. I’ll call you tonight. I’ll tell you everything.”
At my promise, Griff looked slightly appeased. I offered him a smile, which he returned and it assured me that no lasting damage had been done. Griff was a really easygoing guy and I was starting to learn that he seldom stayed mad about anything for long.
“Anyway, the reason I was looking for you was because I wanted to know if you did the algebra homework,” Griff looked at me hopefully and I knew where this was going.
Without saying a word I opened up my locker and searched out a black binder, which I handed him saying, “I’m not so sure about the last question, but all the other answers should be right.”
“Thanks dude,” he replied, his voice heavy with relief. “I have math last period and Jake and I were supposed to work on the homework together yesterday, but we, um, got sidetracked.”
I didn’t even comment, because I could only imagine what had sidetracked them and as happy as I was for Griff I was a little jealous and disappointed that I wasn’t having the same fun with my own boyfriend.
“No worries,” I said as I shut my locker.
Just then the bell rang, signaling the end of lunch. Only three more periods and the day would be over.
I went straight home after school. I was nervous about the savage coming over, which was weird since he’d been coming over to my house since we were both kids, but this time was different. I kept rehearsing the things I was going to say in my head, over and over again until I knew them by heart.
When I got home, I went directly to my room to wait for his arrival. I took off my backpack and kicked off my shoes and went over to my desk to sit at my computer, thinking to quickly check my email before the savage showed up.
Twenty minutes later he still hadn’t appeared and I started wondering where he was. Another twenty minutes passed and I began to think that perhaps he had decided not to come by after all. I thought about calling him, but I hadn’t specified a specific time for him to come over – I had just assumed he would come right after school was over.
I was about to give up and call him regardless of the fact that I didn’t know what I would say when heard the kitchen door open and shut. It was quickly followed by footsteps coming up the stairs, seconds before the savage materialized in the doorway of my bedroom. He paused at the entrance, almost as if hesitating before stepping fully into the room.
That little action reminded me why I had asked him to come over. There had never been any uncertainty in our relationship before. Confusion, sure, but not uncertainty and I hated the fact that it was there now.
We sort of looked at each other awkwardly for a moment before I said, “Do you wanna sit down?”
Even the question felt weird because the savage had always treated my home as his own and vice versa. I couldn’t remember ever having to offer him a seat before.
The savage looked at my bed like it was a snake den before saying thickly, “Is this going to take long? Cause if it’s not, then I’d rather stand.”
Suddenly, everything that I’d rehearsed on the way home flew out of my mind, and all I could say was, “Okay, what the fuck is going with you lately?”
“What are you talking about?” he said instead of answering my question. I wasn’t in the mood to play this game. We had been ignoring the elephant in the room for far too long and it was going to end today.
“George,” I said using his real name for the first time in years. The last time I had done so had been in the fourth grade when I’d lent him my gameboy and he broke it. I was using it this time because I wanted to let him know that I was serious. “What’s going on?”
He averted his gaze, not looking at me.
“What do you mean?” he asked.
“I mean, what’s going on?” I repeated the words, this time frustration lacing them.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he replied, but his words lacked conviction.
“Yes, you do,” I replied, but the savage stubbornly remained silent. “You’re treating me like I have a deadly case of cooties and you’re scared of catching them.”
Okay, so it wasn’t the most eloquent analogy, but at least it got my message across. He didn’t answer right away and I could feel myself becoming irritated the longer he took to respond.
“Are you afraid of me?” he suddenly asked.
I was completely caught off guard by the question.
“Are you afraid of me?” he repeated the question, totally serious.
“What are you talking about?” I asked.
He made a sound of frustration before rephrasing the question, “I mean, are you scared that I’ll do something you don’t like? Or that I’ll force you to do something you don’t want?”
I stared back at him blankly, so completely taken aback by the question that I couldn’t even trust myself to speak.
“Well?” he prompted when I continued to remain silent.
“No!” my throat felt impossibly tight, but I managed to vehemently croak out the single word, just barely. “Why would you think that?”
I had thought that hearing I wasn’t scared of him would make him happy, but instead he looked crestfallen. I didn’t know what was going on, but things were veering off the course that I’d set them on, and I didn’t like it. Not one bit.
“George,” I said using his name for the second time, but this time more gently, “tell me what’s going on.”
“What do you mean ‘tell you what’s going on’?” he said, finally giving up the pretense of ignorance, “you said you weren’t ready for anything more between us and I’m respecting that. You said you needed time and that’s what I’m giving you, but you can’t have your cake and eat it too.
I felt my temper begin to rise. In the back of my mind, warning bells went off, but I was past the point of caring. Before I could decipher what that cryptic comment meant, he continued.
“If you don’t want to have sex, then I understand that, but there’s no way that I’m going to be with you everyday, touching you and kissing you and knowing that it cant go any further until you’re “ready” and no one knows when that will be. I’d rather not torture myself if you don’t mind.”
I flinched as though he had hit me. The agony I could hear in his voice made my stomach drop and suddenly the threat of losing my temper disappeared as the meaning of his words began to sink in.
Had I been unfair? Expecting him to wait for an indefinite period of time. I hadn’t considered that taking things slow would have been so difficult for him. I had been hoping that as our intimacy grew, things would lead up to us going all the way, but it seemed that wasn’t going to be.
“So you’re saying it’s all or nothing? Either we have sex or we don’t do anything at all?”
The savage had the decency to blush and studiously avoid looking at my face. My question hung between us and I waited patiently to hear what he would say. He didn’t say anything and that spoke louder than any words he could have come up with.
“Well, then,” I said with forced brightness.
He sighed before saying wearily, “Connor … let’s not do this.”
My face was so stiff that smiling hurt, but I made myself do it anyway.
“Do what?” I asked blankly.
We were back to this game again, but suddenly it didn’t seem all that bad. If the alternative was having to deal with sexual ultimatums from my boyfriend then I was all for it. Let the games begin.
“Nothing,” the savage finally said. “I should go.”
“Okay,” I continued in the same falsely pleasant voice.
If he was expecting me to stop him then he was out of luck. I was doing everything I could not to lose my composure.
He moved towards my bedroom door, but hesitated before leaving. For one heart stopping moment I thought he was going to say something; something that would make this awful mess disappear, but all he said was, “I’ll see you in school tomorrow.”
And then he was gone, leaving me alone in the silence of my empty room. I felt like crying, but I remembered that being a sensitive pussy had never done me any good in the past and it wasn’t likely to do any good now.
I got up from my desk where I had been seated during the whole encounter, suddenly too exhausted emotionally to sit, and went to go lie on my bed. I didn’t fall asleep, but I just lay there staring off into space, not really thinking. I was in some sort of empty state. I lost all sense of time and when I finally glanced over at the clock beside my bed, I was shocked to discover that it was almost 7 o’clock.
I could hear noise downstairs, which meant that my parents were home – I wasn’t even aware that they had returned – but I still didn’t feel like moving. Then I remembered my promise to call Griff later.
I reached over my nightstand to pick up my cordless phone; I dialed Griff’s number and then waited for him to pick up. After a few rings he did.
“Hello?” the voice on the other end asked.
“Hey, it’s me,” I said, sure that he would recognize my voice.
“Hey, dude,” he replied, sounding more alert.
“So … yeah, I said I’d call you back. And I did,” I said.
“Oookay,” Griff said slowly, sounding out the word like it was foreign.
“Listen, I don’t mean to be an ass, but … a lot’s been going on, that’s all,” I sighed.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Griff asked.
I didn’t actually want to talk about it, but for some reason I couldn’t prevent the words from tumbling out of my mouth and once I started, I couldn’t stop.
“It’s the savage. Things have been really fucked up lately and I don’t know what to do.”
“What’s the matter?”
“Ever since we started dating, he hasn’t … we haven’t … I can’t … I won’t let him … I’m not ready to, you know, do it,” I finally managed to get out.
Griff was silent for a moment, and I imagined him on the other end of the line struggling not to laugh and I was flooded with embarrassment at my own inanity.
“Look, I know it’s dumb – “ I began but he cut me off.
“So how far have the two of you gone?”
I thought I’d been embarrassed before, but now I really felt humiliated. I’d been dating the hottest boy in school for weeks and the only thing we had done was kiss. I knew Griff was waiting for me to say something, but I didn’t know what. I didn’t want to admit the truth because it was so pathetic, but I also didn’t want to lie to him. In the end, honesty won out.
“We’ve kissed,” I said.
“Okay. What else?” Griff asked.
“That’s it,” I said in response.
“That’s it?” Griff repeated incredulously.
I felt the humiliation in my belly blossom out and spread all over my body. I was embarrassed to the tips of my toes.
“Look, don’t tell anyone, okay? It’s just that I’ve tried … the savage, he doesn’t want …” I struggled to find the right words.
“Wait a sec,” Griff interrupted me, “are you saying that the savage doesn’t want to go any further?”
“No,” I replied miserably, “that’s what I’m trying to tell you. It’s not him, it’s me. And now I think we’re about to break up.”