Date: Thu, 12 Feb 2004 00:05:12 +0000 From: jtoxic@comcast.net Subject: WHY ME? Chapter 1 Hi! Jtoxic here. I have just finished chapter 1 of this story. It is for GAYS only. If you're not GAY, read no further. If you're GAY, read it and is offended by it, BITE ME! Anyway, I have no clue why I felt I needed to write it but hopefully someone will have fun reading it. I'm terrible at describing sex scenes so you probably wouldn't want to read this if you are look for a quick jerkoff story. You can email me at this addy: jtoxic@comcast.net ABOUT COPYRIGHT: This story may be published on the Nifty Erotic Stories Archive site ONLY. No other use or publication is allowed. ===================================================================== WHY ME? (Chapter 1) by Jtoxic It is a question probably every gay guy has asked himself at one time or another. I finally confronted myself on the possibility that... on the FACT that I am gay. It was on a cool but sunny day, in the summer of 2002. Fifteen years of my life had gone by before that day. . . . . . . . A slight breeze caressed my nearly naked body as I opened my eyes. I struggled to focus on the wall facing my bed. The red light on the wall coming from the projection alarm clock was faded by the morning sun permeating through the curtain fabric. It barely outlined '9:38 AM'. Satisfied that it would be another month before I had to get up early for school, I rolled over, face down, and moved my hands under the pillow. As my chin rested on the pillow, I felt the intensifying pressure on my full bladder. The sensation forced even more blood to flow into the morning hard-on underneath my white boxer briefs. I groaned softly in protest. While still on my stomach, I pushed the boxer briefs down as far as I could and continued to wiggle for a while. Finally, it rolled off my ankles. If anyone had witnessed the process, I'm sure it would have given him a good laugh. I don't know why I did not simply sit up and strip it off. It would have taken probably two seconds. I guess there are some things you really shouldn't ask a 15 year old blond! Every inch of my 5'9" body was now exposed. Images of all the cute guys I had encountered in my life flashed through my mind. Scanning through the pages of an imaginary album, I decided Logan would be this morning's jerkoff buddy. Logan is 16, about the same height, with short light-brown hair. (When you are in the middle of a hormone attack, your mind doesn't spend that much time on details, ok?!) I imagined Logan's hand wrapped around my dick, in the tender but firm grip he always used. Slowly, I began a downward and forward thrust on the bed. On each repetition, I could feel the tip of my dick push out of its foreskin before retreating again, generating the pleasure my body craved. . . * Door bell rings * "Fuck!" My fantasy interrupted. I was frustrated as hell. I rushed to my feet, pulled on the boxer briefs and an oversized t-shirt to conceal my hard-on. Emerging from my room, I tried to run past the living room to reach the door. Realizing just how full my bladder was, I quickly settled into a precarious tiptoe. After a few more excruciating steps, I could see the destroyer of my perfect fantasy through the porch window. It was Mike, a 12 year old kid who lives a block from my house. Still on his bike, I saw his 5'3" frame with the usual ensemble of a sleeveless black t-shirt and cutoff jean shorts. The first time I was invited over to his house, I noticed his closet had only black t- shirts in it. His VERY light blond hair contrasted sharply, too sharply, with his shirts. It was shocking to the visual senses. Perhaps he realized it too but enjoyed the effect it had on people. "Hi Jono! What. . ." Mike started to say before being cut off. "What do you want, Mikey?" I snapped. I was visibly annoyed. Surprised by my stern greeting, the smile on his little face was replaced with a somewhat puzzled look. He hates being called 'Mikey' so he knew something weird's going on when I called him that. "Ummm... nothing. Are you doing anything today?" he said in a lowered voice. 'I WAS doing SOMETHING until you interrupted me!' I said to myself. I opened the door as he got off his bike, letting it fall to the ground. At that very moment, a signal shot up from my bladder with the message: Empty me NOW or I will not be held responsible for what happens next! It would have been hard to explain why I pissed in my shorts in front of Mike. With that, I blurted, "I gotta piss real bad! Be right back." I disappeared into the bathroom and stood there pissing for seemingly 5 minutes before I was done. It wasn't anything close to an orgasm but nonetheless it was a tremendous relief. Returning to the living room, I could see that Mike had already made himself comfortable on the sofa. He was flipping through the TV channels. "Much better!" I said, making a quick adjustment to my softening dick. Looking up, he grinned and repeated, "So whatcha doing do today?" "Nothing," I said. School was out, my parents are usually gone until late in the evening, most of my close friends were working some stupid summer job, and I had no siblings to fight with. What else CAN I do besides jerking off, loitering, and wasting my life away aimlessly? My relationship with the parental units is more of an acquaintance than a family. Some of my friends are actually jealous of them. Jealous! If they only knew what it really meant. My parents hadn't noticed I am still alive since the novelty of having a baby wore off on them. My dad probably wouldn't know if I disappeared. When he handed me that ATM card bearing my name, his duty as a dad had been duly performed. It was on my 12th birthday. In his mind, he truly believes money will take care of ALL my needs. He pretty much allows me to buy anything I want, no questions asked - as long as I stayed out of his way. Gee dad, can I have a hug for 10 bucks? Do I get a discount if I bought a dozen? Mike and I had known each other for almost three years now. During that time, he had gone through the traumatic experience of losing his mom and sister in a car accident. He lives 'alone' now with his dad and grandma. He is alone because they don't really know how to communicate with him. I can see that his dad cares about him, a lot, but his inability to get through to Mike seems to frustrate him more each day. For weeks after the accident, Mike would walk up to my door, just as he did today, but without the smile. I could see the pain and loneliness in his eyes. I remember our first hug vividly; it was two weeks after the funeral. He was sitting at the bottom of the stairs leading to my parents' bedroom, dressed in one of his usual black t- shirts. What's unusual was that he was quiet. When I asked if everything was ok, he shrugged and lowered his head. I saw a single teardrop fall to the tiled floor at his feet. Not knowing how to react, I muttered "whoa". A desperate kid who had just lost his mom and sister, literally crying for help in front of me and all I could say was "whoa". Luckily, instincts took over and I managed to ask if he wanted a hug. He was openly sobbing by then and shrugged again. Seeing him overwhelmed by sadness brought me closer to tears as well. I walked up to him and pulled him towards me by his shoulders. He wrapped his arms around me tightly when he felt the warmth of my chest on his face. I stroked his back gently. He cried even harder and tightened his arms further. I did my best to hold back the tears because I knew he needed assurance, not someone to cry along with. He needed someone to tell him everything will be ok. After a few minutes, his sobbing subsided and he loosened his arms. I took it as a hint that he felt better. I released him, looked into his eyes and smiled, hoping he wouldn't notice the tears still welling in my eyes. He returned a weak smile. It was the best hug I ever had, probably will ever have. Ever since, Mike had pretty much adopted me as his bro - someone he could share his troubled thoughts with. I was more than happy to call him my bro. I had always wondered what it would be like to have a little brother and now I've got one. He still comes over once in a while, not smiling, but not today. I can see that he's in an upbeat mood. "So let's go do something!" Mike said. "Like?" I asked, still somewhat grouchy for the 'jerkoff interruptus'. He thought for a few seconds and said, "Wanna go blading?" I had introduced inline skating to him last year and he is doing pretty good now for a guy his age. I said, "Sure. I need to shower first. Grab your gear and meet me back here... in..." Before I could complete my sentence with "...1/2 hour", he was already out the door in a blur. I usually spent less than 10 minutes in the shower but I had planned to finish where I left off with Logan. Oh well, Mike can always watch TV if he returned before I was done. I ran to the bathroom, stripped, and got into the shower. Having closed the glass door, I turned on the water. Hot water sprayed my face and trickled down; it felt great. I always enjoyed a really hot shower, especially where the whole bathroom is filled with steam when I am done. My mind drifted off to Logan again. Unsnapping the bottle of shampoo, I let the steamy water run through my hair before massaging a glob of shampoo into the scalp. I shut my eyes when I felt lather flowing down my face and back. Images of a naked Logan started to appear. As my hands continued washing my hair, I could feel my soft dick filling up just from thinking about Logan's dick. Logan doesn't have a foreskin. I remember the third time we had a jerkoff session together. It was last year. He was so mesmerized by my foreskin he spent almost 15 minutes playing with it. After pulling the comforter over me, he ordered me not to move until he was done and then he ducked under! I reluctantly agreed because I knew in everything else we did together, he always had his way with me. My heart pounded as I wondered what he was about to do. I was harder than I had ever been and my dick was begging for relief. For what seemed like an eternity, I felt my foreskin being peeled back and then slowly pushed forward again. His delicate movements made my dick jump with each stroke. I don't think he was trying to jerk me off as the intervals in between were way too long to make me cum. He must have found it fun just watching my foreskin cover the head completely, and then revealing it again with only a slight pull. Why didn't he do it the first two times? I don't know. I suppose both of us being nervous as hell had something to do with it. All I remember from our first jerkoff session was that we became hard looking at porn on his computer. He asked if I was hard. After glancing over at his pants to make sure I wasn't the only one, I nodded sheepishly. My body shook like a leaf the whole time. When we unzipped our pants, we didn't even dare to look at each other's dick directly. I don't remember us cumming at all, although I'm quite sure we did -I had a sticky sock in my book bag when I arrived home that day. It was only the second time around that I finally stopped shaking long enough to check out his perfectly formed 6" dick. I would look at his and he would notice me. He quickly shifts his eyes onto my dick. We both smiled shyly, avoiding eye contact. And then our attention was back to the porn on the computer. By the end of the second session, I was hooked on the barely audible 'little noises' he made, his scent, his willingness to share the most private moments with me, his everything... "Jono?" Mike's voice filtered into the shower. No!! Not again! I was determined to have my relief this time. I MUST! So I yelled, "I'll be done in a minute. Go watch TV or something!" With the water still running, I couldn't hear what he said in reply. I decided to concentrate on stroking my dick instead. It didn't take long before felt the climax and all the pleasures that came with it. I let out a sigh of content. I turned to Logan and said, 'Sorry... I gotta go!' I quickly soaped up my dick and made sure all the incriminating evidence of my sinful activity was washed down the drain. As I turned to open the shower door, I noticed movement on the other side, at a distance. I had forgotten to close the bathroom door. Despite the frosted patterns on the glass shower door, you can pretty much see through it when it is wet. I could make out the shape in the distance - bright, almost white on top, with black and light blue below. It must be Mike. Yikes! How long has he been standing there? The shape disappeared as I opened the door. I grabbed a towel, wrapped it around my waist and walked out of the shower. All the steam had escaped since I didn't close the bathroom door. Oh well, I suppose you can't have everything. At least my dick has been pacified. I left the bathroom and saw Mike watching TV. He didn't look up as I walked back into my room. I got dressed and joined him in the living room. "All set?" I asked while running my fingers through my messy and wet hair. "Yup." He said. His eyes still focused on the TV. I looked at the TV and there was a stupid game show on. In the 3 years I have known him, he has NEVER watched a game show when there were kids' shows on the other cable channels. Not to mention he would already had his skates strapped and bolt out the door the moment I'm ready. He was definitely acting strange. I guess he must have seen me jerking off in the shower. I wouldn't mind if he did, not really, just a little embarrassed. To me, he is my little bro and I know he wouldn't tell anyone what he saw. My feelings for Mike are strictly what brothers would have for one another. I have never thought about doing anything sexual with him and I never will. I don't know why but I feel a need to protect him... almost like... like... a parent! Oh god, there's a scary thought! To be continued....