Date: Sat, 23 Jun 2007 05:36:56 -0700 (PDT) From: SauronTheDarkLord Subject: Beginnings VI Thanks to Steve as well for his comments and encouragement. Beginnings continues. After the impromptu threesome with Terry and Vic, I went home and took a bath, too tired from a day of baling to stay awake long enough to jerk off. And at that age, when I was too tired to jerk off, that was some serious fatigue. Fortunately, my strength had returned by morning, although I waited `til my brother was out of the house to do the deed...the springs in my bed had a tendency to squeak when any vigorous activity occurred, and that morning I was nothing if not a seriously horny teenager. My sex drive satisfied for the moment, I wiped myself off and went downstairs for breakfast. (I guess it's ironic that as much as I enjoyed other guys' cum, I never really got into eating my own until later in life. No logic really.) Nothing on television worth watching (amazing how little some things change), no dishes in the sink, and the yard already mowed left my day was pretty much free. That was my cue to head for the library, to this day one of my favorite places on earth. The library was downtown, a walk of nearly six minutes, situated between the town's grocery store and the corner restaurant (so-called because it was on the corner and you could purchase meals there). The library had a limited collection. There were four sets of racks that extended from the middle of the library building all the way (18 to 20 feet) to the back, with a set of built-in shelves on each wall. In front were several reading tables, the card catalog, and the magazine section. Mrs. Allen, the long-time librarian, ruled her domain from the check out desk. I had a variety of interests. I read every Hardy Boys and Nancy Drew book, and a lot of sports fiction (John R. Tunis, that kind of thing). And every bit of science fiction there was. In the magazine section Sport magazine and Sports Illustrated were not to be missed (this was even before the SI swimsuit edition began). However, as my interest expanded to include sex, sexual activity, sexual organs, sexual behavior, and nearly everything but sextuplets, the limits of our library's collection soon became apparent. There was the occasional book on hygiene, or a particularly racy underwear ad (i.e. the suggestion that there might possibly be cleavage somewhere on the model) but nothing which would cause me to take a quick trip to the bathroom. That was good because the library had no bathroom. So I loaded up for the day, one Hardy Boys, one Nancy Drew – maybe this time she'll get it on with Ned Nickerson, a Robert Heinlein and Andre Norton and I was probably set for the day. I was just about all the way home (let the record show as big as the town was no matter where you were you were almost anywhere else) and saw Mark, one of our neighbors, shooting baskets in his driveway. If you do not remember Mark from Beginnings II, don't feel like you missed anything. He was one of my failed attempts at seduction after I misinterpreted what I thought was a come-on on his part. While I hadn't ignored him after that, I made sure that I avoided anything which might have made him thing I was still trying for his dick. Being the Town Queer in those days was not the wisest career path. "Shoot some baskets?" he asked. "I'm not very good" I said. Truth there. You could lay quite a patio from the bricks I put up. "Who cares? Catch." I set Frank and Joe and Nancy and their companions from outer space on Mark's back porch step and took turns with Mark trying to bend the rim and/or knock down the backboard. Our basketball competence, minimal as it was, was common for our town. It was football, football, and more football. Basketball was football played in doors, with just slightly less physical contact, and slightly more scoring. Apparently the random trajectory of some of our shots must have created a meteorological disturbance of some sort because it started to rain, quickly and violently. I ran to gather up my books and try to sprint home, but Mark stopped me. "You're gonna get soaked. Let's get on the porch." In that time and place, no house was complete without a porch, maybe two, open, screened in, whatever. In this case it was his back porch, screened in. There were a couple of old chairs that had seen their best days and were slowly being sacrificed to the elements. The screen managed to convert the driving rain to a mist, that still made its way through the screen and started to soak us. "Damn," Mark said. "We still gonna get soaked here." "Well then, I might as well try to make it home." It was two blocks. I could make it without an ark, if I really ran. "Why the hell you want to do that?" "Well if I'm gonna get soaked one way or the other I might as well get it over with and get home." "What's the hurry?" "The hurry is I'm getter wetter all the time and I need to be doing something." "Well, let's just go inside then." I didn't really want to do that, but the sprint through the monsoon was even less attractive an option. So we went into the kitchen, the normal layout of houses at that time when the porch was also a mud room. I sat the books on the table and sort of looked out the window. I was expecting a pregnant pause of sufficient length to accommodate the gestation of a pachyderm, but Mark broke the ice before it even froze. "Whatcha get from the library?" "Couple of mysteries, couple of science fiction." "No Playboy?" Where the hell did that come from? Given previous experience with Mark, I couldn't imagine it was anything other than the traditional male attempt to generate humor with any reference even remotely related to sex. "Nah. Hadn't come in yet. So I had to stop and use the bathroom at the gas station instead." For those of you born after the earth's crust cooled, one of the earliest forms of titillation was the peek-a-boo calendar, usually put out by an automobile related business of some sort. (I don't know if that was the formal name, but you get the idea.) There was a buxom young thing on the calendar, wearing some sort of a flimsy top. But wait...that flimsy top was on a sheet of clear plastic that you could lift up and SEE HER BOOBS. I am sure that the owner of the Cities Service station laughed to himself every time one of us ducked into the bathroom. You wanted to try to remember to flush the toilet to at least make it seem like you had official business, but you fooled no one. "The gas station is only two blocks from your house, you couldn't hold it that long?" Could it be that Mark was unaware of the calendar situation? "Don't you know about the calendar they have in the bathroom? Where you can lift up and see the girls tits?" "You're kidding." "I swear. But I was just kidding about stopping there today. I probably should have though, I really gotta pee." "Well, you can use our bathroom, but there's no calendar." "Too bad, I guess I'll have to do my best without a blonde looking at me while I pee." I managed to complete the urination process without the supervision of Miss Castrol Motor Oil, or was it Miss STP, and returned to the kitchen. We sat at the table silently looking out the window at the rain, which although it had abated somewhat from the earlier torrents, seemed intent on persisting for awhile. The conversational ice had pretty much reached glacial proportions when Mark decided to chip away at it. "So, you mad at me?" "Mad, why?" "Cuz of that time in your room..." "No, I'm not mad. I'm sorry I upset you, I made a mistake." "Why do you say that?" "You want to know?" "Yeah, I asked, right?" "Well, when you were over before, right before my dad got home from work, I thought maybe you wanted to do something. Then we didn't have time and you had to go home. So I thought when we got another chance you might...but I messed up. Didn't want you to think I was pestering you." "Oh." Mark was quiet for awhile. Finally he spoke again. "You weren't wrong, really. I just chickened out that last time. I really wanted to, but got scared." "I didn't mean to scare you." "Nah, it wasn't like you scared me. It was like I wanted to do it and then when we had the chance I got so nervous, cuz it was so...I don't know." "'S o.k., Mark. Don't worry about it. I'm glad to hear I hadn't spooked you for good. Getting nervous the first time you do anything really different like that with someone else is usually what happens. I remember how nervous I was the first time." That was, of course, a monumental lie. "Cool." Silence took over again. "So..." "So?" I replied. "So would you still like to?" "Would I still like to what?" "You know, play with our dicks?" "You sure you're o.k.?" "Yeah, I promise not to be a chicken this time." "Cool. You think the kitchen is a good idea though?" He didn't. We went up to his room, which had the advantage of not being the first room in the house his parents would enter when they got home, and it had a good view of the driveway and the street leading up to their house. We both sat down on the edge of his bed. "So what should we do now?" "We probably shouldn't get undressed in case your dad gets home early. Let's just take our dicks out and jack off this time." Mark was agreeable. He went through the unbuckle and unzip routine and out popped about a three and a half inch dick with a delicious looking head on it. However, given Mark's previous anxiety over the whole sex thing, I figured I'd wait until next time – if there was one – to go that route. While Mark was freeing his tool, I was doing likewise. Remembering some last minute details, I ran down the hall to the upstairs bathroom to get some toilet paper and returned to find Mark laying on the bed, his dick hard as a rock, with a "what do we do now?" look on his face. I laid down beside him. Just in case, I laid down to his right, should the opportunity for a quick feel present itself. I grabbed my dick and slowly started stroking. Mark followed suit. "You do this a lot?" he asked. "Every chance I get" I replied, not having to lie this time. "What about you?" "I like to a lot. When mom and dad are at work I usually do it once a day, more sometimes." "Wow." Here I was in bed with Mr. Precocious. "So have you done it yet today?" "No, this is the first today." Ordinarily by this time I would have made a move on his dick, or at least asked for a grab, but every now and then I become a little cautious. I figured this time I'd just get my rocks off, and bide my time for anything else. As I looked over at his absolutely mouth-watering dick I fantasized about sucking it from one end to the other as slowly as I possibly could so that Mark would want to make it available to me every time he could. Mark, on his part, was pulling on his dick like he was trying to start a fire. I don't know how he could be doing it twice a day at that rate without pulling it off. I finally shot, not a bad load, just missed my chin. Mark almost gasped. "I never do that" he said. "Don't worry, you will when you get older." Just then I heard the screen door slam on the back porch. Shit! Mark's dad worked as a section hand on the railroad. They had probably been let off early when the rain wouldn't stop. And we had gotten so wrapped up in our dicks we had forgotten to keep an eye on the driveway. Mark quickly tucked his dick in. His dad's arrival had taken the starch out of his hardon almost instantly. I grabbed the toilet paper and tried to clean up as fast as I could, stuffing the evidence in my pocket. "Mark, whose books are these?" his dad yelled from downstairs. "They're Stu's" (And now you know my name.) "Hi, Ray" I yelled. "We were playing basketball when the rain started so we came inside." "Looks like you got a couple inches here. I haven't checked the gauge yet." "I wouldn't doubt it" I replied, checking both myself and Mark to make sure there were no obvious indications of what we had been doing. We went downstairs and sat in the kitchen talking with Mark's dad until the rain finally slacked off. I grabbed my books off the table and paid my respect to Mark and his dad and walked the remaining few blocks to my house. So, although it was a start with Mark, it seemed, as Bill and Monica used to say, close, but no cigar. The next few days were uneventful, except for the visits to Sam's on as frequent as basis as possible. We had the system pretty well in place. He would call me when his parents left the house for work, and in the ten minutes or so it would take me to get to his house he would have gotten naked and jumped back in bed. I didn't even knock. I just went upstairs and jumped in with him. It was great sex, with a capital g-r-e-a-t. Somedays we'd jerk off, either ourselves or each other, some days we'd suck, 69 sometimes, taking turns others. After I let Terry do me up the ass at Vic's farm, I thought it only fair that Sam get a shot, too. Pretty soon, that became a regular staple. Nothing like sitting at the dinner table with mom and dad with your buddy's cum up your ass. But like all routines, it got to be routine. Not that I ever turned down a chance to suck or stroke or fuck with Sam, but you do start thinking about a change of pace from time to time. However, I really hadn't been able to identify anymore likely prospects. I was sure Sam was fucking around with at least one or two other guys, and had an idea about who at least one of them may have been, but it wasn't enough to make a move. Luckily, Vic had not forgotten my parting words to him the day of our shower room orgy on the farm. I had been in the garden chopping weeds out of the onions and beans. My dad loved to garden, and thankfully is still alive doing so in his late 70's. Some years he would nearly till the entire backyard. This turned out to be a mixed blessing. There was less to mow, but more to hoe. When I came back in the house my mom asked me a question in a sort of puzzled tone of voice. "Honey, I didn't know you were good friends with Vic Alexander." Fortunately I had finished my drink of water or I would have had to explain why I sprayed it all over the kitchen. "He's o.k. He worked with Terry and me that day on the farm, remember?" "I remember. But his mom just called. His dad has to take a load of hogs to Peoria tomorrow and will be gone most of the day, and his mom has to take his sister to camp. Mrs. Alexander said that they had asked Vic if there was someone he wanted to come out and spend the day with him so he wouldn't have to be by himself and he mentioned you." "Well, yeah, I guess that's o.k." I said, in what, if not the understatement of all time, was at least in the team picture. So my mom called Mrs. Alexander back and they worked out the details. Again, my dad was able to swing by the Alexander farm on the way to work. Vic's mom and dad and sister were still finishing breakfast, so I had a glass of orange juice and some bacon. "What are you boys going to do today?" Vic's mom asked. "It probably depends on whether we get anymore rain or not" I lied. "We can play catch or go shoot at some rabbits (sorry PETA) if it stays nice." "Well, be careful with the .22. And if you get anything just bag it and put it in the freezer. We'll clean it when we get home." Finally, after an eternity, Vic's dad pulled his truck onto the road, and his mom and sister – Laura – loaded what seemed to be enough gear for a divisional bivouac into and onto their station wagon and they headed out as well. Vic and I stood in the living room and watched them go. When they were finally out of sight, I turned to face Vic. "Raise your hands." He didn't ask for an explanation. I pulled his t-shirt off over his head. I then knelt in front of him, and pulled his pants and briefs down to his knees. He was ready. "I was hoping you would want to do this." "I said anytime, right?" He stood there almost shaking as I took his cock in my mouth. He wasn't the only one shaking. There was something about Vic that just drove me absolutely crazy. I attacked his cock. There was really no other work for it. I just wanted to devour his entire body dick first. To that point in my life I had never experienced that level of sexual frenzy. "You want to lay down?" he asked. "O.K. But let's hurry." We went up to his room, probably hitting no more than every third stair on the way up. I threw my clothes off and climbed into bed to resume my assault on his genitalia. I wanted nothing more than go make Vic cum like never before. Whatever sensation he had felt from the first blow job I had given him I wanted to double, triple, or infinible it. Ordinarily I would have used my usual technique of half blow job, half hand job. But this was not an ordinary situation. I grabbed both of his ass cheeks and practically begged him to fuck my face by lifting and squeezing his adorable little globes. He got the idea, and obliged. When he came, he came loudly and almost violently. As he lay there temporarily spent, I put my arm around his shoulders and pulled him to me. I laid there facing him, feeling something I just couldn't label. I just stroked his cheek, ran my hand down his side, and left it on his ass, tracing little circles with my fingers. "That was great," he said. "You really like to do that, don't you?" "Yeah, but I really like to do it with you a lot." "How come?" "Hard to say, you just get me going for some reason." "Like a crush or something?" Oops. And shit. And dammit. I had been trying to not think about that. "How like a crush?" "Well, like you really like being around someone. And like when you like a girl and have a crush on her you want to do things with her. So I figure maybe it's like that." "So what kind of things do you think you do with a girl when you have a crush?" "You know, like making out, kissing, other stuff." "Other stuff?" "Like when you put it in her. Fucking." "So you think about making out and kissing and fucking?" He blushed. "Yeah. I could see what Terry was doing to you that day." "What was he doing?" "You know. He had his dick in your butt." "And we call that...?" "Fucking." "So do you want to fuck me?" "I don't know. Maybe." "Do you want me to fuck you?" "I don't know. Did it hurt when Terry fucked you?" "No. I could feel a lot of stretching, but it didn't hurt. Then when he got it in I really liked it." "If it hurts will you stop?" "I promise." "So what do we do?" "Do you have any Vaseline?" That was an affirmative. Vic came back from the bathroom, jar in hand. I had him lay on his side. I put some Vaseline on my fingers and started to apply it to his asshole. He flinched. "It doesn't hurt already does it?" "No," he said. "It's COLD." "It will warm up," I assured him. I could go on with the description of how I finished lubing Vic's ass, and then prepping my dick, but I expect you all can fill in the blanks. I was ready for the big moment. I put the head of my dick at the entrance to his ass and slowly tried to slide in. "Try to relax," I advised. "Just let your legs and everything go limp." It didn't work perfectly, but I made progress. Up to a point. "I don't think it can go much farther" Vic said. I thought I could tell from the tone of his voice that he meant it. "I think that's far enough, anyway" I said. I started little mini-thrusts, pulling back maybe an inch, and then in, and back again. I was so turned on by just having my cock in Vic that it was not going to take much to get me off. I was right. I exploded...or rather I FUCKING EXPLODED. I felt like I pumped a gallon of cum up Vic's ass. As soon as the last spasm had passed, I pulled my dick out of Vic's no longer virgin ass. I checked and didn't see any bleeding, which would have called for a better answer than we would have had had his mom ever seen a bloody sheet. I wrapped my arms around him and held him. Without thinking, I brushed my lips against his neck, and kissed him on the cheek softly. He nestled into me more closely. "Is that like a crush, too?" he asked. "Yes, Vic, it looks like I might have a crush on you." "Good" he said. "Me, too, I think." He rolled over to face me. I very, very tentatively moved my lips to his and kissed him. I was wondering what the hell was going on, but at the same point no longer cared. He was almost as virginal a kisser as a fucker, or rather fuckee. We just brushed lips to begin with, and then as his lips parted, we went into full tonsil hockey mode. His arms went around me and I could feel his dick grinding into me we hugged. Damnit. All the other sex before was just no strings playing around. Now I'm looking at a quasi-romantic relationship with a middle-schooler. Damnit, damnit, damnit. But dealing with the reality of a relationship that might have risked outing us both (had the term existed then)had to take a back seat to the issue of Vic's newly stiff dick. "Can you reach the Vaseline?" I asked. "I think so." Vic broke contact long enough to reach over to the nightstand and grab some lube. "Put some on your dick, and some on my ass" I instructed, needlessly. He was right, by the way, it was cold. Very tentatively he tried to get his cock lined up with my asshole. I took his dick and helped him get the head in. "O.K. You're ready to go now. Just stick it all the way in." "You're sure it won't hurt." "I don't think so. No offense, but your not as big as Terry, and you know I can take him." If it was assurance he wanted, that appeared to suffice. As I felt him push, I relaxed, and I soon had my prize. Laying on my back with Vic pounding my ass was as close to heaven as I had been in a while. He tried to jerk me off while he was fucking me, but it was a little more than he could handle at his level of experience. Besides, having nothing else to occupy me but laying on my back and getting ass fucked, I could take care of that myself. Seeing me jerk myself while he was fucking me seemed to get him going even more. "You like this?" he asked. "Better than anything, except maybe sucking your cock" I answered in a moment of candor. "Wow" he said, and continued his assault on my ass. I could tell from his breathing and expression that he was getting close. Just as he was ready to cum, I tightened up my ass and clamped down hard on his dick. THAT did it for Vic. A lot of times when you make someone come you have a cock in your face or you're facing the wrong direction. When you see the expression on someone's face who is just becoming acquainted with the wonders of sex it's, well it's hard to describe, but it's pretty damn nice. The logistics of keeping his cock in my ass while laying in a post-coital embrace just not working out, he lay on top of me with our dicks sort of entwined, other than that his erection was subsiding at the same rate mine was increasing. No matter. We lay there ten, twenty minutes, who ever really knows. I alternately stroked his back, his ass, his hair, nuzzling and kissing as the urge dictated. "You know, Vic, as much as I'd like to, we can't spend the entire day like this." "Aw, please, a little more..." "We got all day. Let's get dressed and maybe go get a rabbit or two. Then we'll have something to show your mom and dad, unless you want to explain we spent the whole day making out." Although he was quite content to stay where he was, and let the record show I was quite o.k. with it too, he yielded to my logic. We got dressed and walked out toward the pasture, following the fence row with the occasional clump of trees in case a target of opportunity presented itself. We kept the safety on, which is one of the brighter things you can do when carrying a loaded weapon over rough ground. Our trip outward did not flush anything, and the pasture was similarly unproductive. Not surprising, because given the time of day and the terrain it would have to be a really stupid bunny rabbit to present itself. Which I knew. What I had really wanted to do was just get away from the irresistible sexual temptation the Vic presented and try to sort my thoughts out. What had I gotten in to? From damn near out of nowhere I was a high school freshman getting hot and heavy with a middle schooler of the same gender. This was a little bit off the beaten path for 1966. I didn't mind the sex (when I do start to mind sex, remember to alert the media), it was just the sense of being somewhat out of control. And if I thought I was out of control, the thought of my younger partner in a relationship for maybe the first time and his potential for losing it... Yep. I was a dead man. My dick, and love for others, was going to get me killed, probably stoned at a special service of the Congregational Church. Oh well. Nothing to do about it now. Having come up empty in our quest for big game in the pasture, Vic suggested we try their neighbors' woods. After first stopping by their house (Vic's family had a standing invitation to hunt, but it is always wise to let people know when you might conceivably be discharging firearms on their property) we took one of the trails into the woods. We continued to look along the line where the pasture joined the woods, and soon were rewarded. Although a city kid, by the standards of the area, I had learned to shoot when we visited my dad's family on summer vacation. Aim for the center of mass, exhale slowly, squeeze the trigger, and goodbye Thumper. Vic took charge of our trophy, carrying it by it's hind legs as we searched for another opportunity to offend Mother Nature. Eventually we saw another fluffy target, and I handed Vic the rifle, and took our recently deceased prey. Vic's shot was sort of on target, off target. It caught the rabbit in one of its hind legs, and the thing tried to hop away fighting through the shock, as well as the loss of one of its limbs. Now we had to follow it. As cruel as hunting sounds to some, you still don't leave an animal to die from its wounds. Finding the trail was not hard. Blood kind of stands out. Following it was not nearly as easy. Finally we caught up with the rabbit, trying to hide itself against a tree. I had Vic hand me the .22 and I ended our bunny's suffering. Having enough blood on our hands for one day, we headed back home, stopping by the neighbors house to present them with the carcasses. Although Vic's mom had said to bag anything we shot, I really didn't think it was something she was going to have her heart set on after a full day of work. When we got back to Vic's house we were pretty grimy and sweaty, and after cleaning the weapon – first things always first – undressed and jumped into the shower. We had plenty of room since the shower and tub were one in the same. As Vic and I stood there, I could not help but to admire his body again. Damn, if only he wasn't so cute. As we rinsed off under the shower, I could not fight off the urge to wrap my arms around him again. My cock was hard again, and I ground it against his ass cheeks as I held my blonde-haired treasure. Vic turned and kissed me. His dick was as hard as mine, and they battered each other just as our tongues fenced back and forth in each others mouths. He broke the kiss and whispered in my ear "Can we fuck again?" "Yes" I replied. I had Vic turn and place both hands on the tiled shower wall. I spread his legs about as wide as they could go. With my cock soap covered, I lathered up his ass and began to insert my dick into his precious asshole. I had taken it easy in bed, since it was his first time and I didn't want to risk a mess. In the shower I decided to be more aggressive. But not without warning. "I'm going to try to go farther in than I did this morning, o.k.?" "O.K. I want you in farther, too." There is music to one's ears, and then there is a symphony from heaven. Vic's words were the latter. Even with our mutual objective clear, I still did not want to go overboard. I eased in again, and rather than engage in pumping him with one inch strokes, just let him get used to me, and then slid in farther. "How're you doin?" I asked. "Like you said" he answered, "I feel a lot of stretching, but it doesn't really hurt yet." "Let's hope yet doesn't get here for awhile then." I had somewhere between three and four inches in him when I felt his first shudder. "Too much?" I asked. "Just wait a minute." It may have been a minute, two minutes, or twenty seconds, but eventually Vic said "o.k., try some more." I decided at that point to back off and begin pumping him, trying to get a little deeper each time. He caught on to what I was trying to do, and seemed to manage each new thrust with a minimum of distress. "How much more until you're all in?" I checked. "About an inch and a half." "Just put it all in me now. Please." Well, since he said please. I buried my dick in his ass up to my balls. Even though he thought he was ready, he got a little more than he may have bargained for. "Ow." "Vic, you all right?" "Yeah, I just wasn't ready I guess. You all the way in?" "Yeah." He turned his head to kiss me. "Then fuck me." With pleasure...no, hell, with ecstasy. Even though I wanted to inflict the minimal amount of abuse on his largely virgin ass, I was nearly out of control. Fortunately for Vic, it did not take me long to finish. I almost collapsed, holding on to Vic to keep my balance. "Stay in me" he said. "O.K." I agreed. "But hang on for a second." I reached over and turned off the shower, then sat on the edge of the tub. I had Vic, my cock still buried in his ass, slowly turn until he was facing me, his legs wrapped around me. His cock was still hard. As we kissed, I reached down to stroke it. "So you like this sex stuff?" I asked unnecessarily. "Yeah." "So whatcha want to do now? You want me to suck your cock, or do you want to fuck me?" Sometimes I like to get verbal. "How about both?" Fine by me. The edge of the tub was too low for him to sit and me to suck, so I had him stand while I got on my knees and treated myself to the increasingly familiar taste and texture of his cock. While I was reluctant to let his dick out of my mouth, I at least had the consolation of knowing where it was going to go. I got on my hands and knees, and Vic knelt behind me. He was not nearly as tentative as he had been earlier. I encouraged his aggressiveness. "That's it, fuck me like I fucked you." The encouragement may not have been entirely necessary. Vic was slamming his cock in me as far as it would go, which was not all that far, but no less enjoyable for that fact. It was not long before Vic finished his business in my ass. This time as we lay side by side, his dick stayed inside me. I felt him stroking my chest, my ass, my legs, just as I had done to him earlier. I was not surprised when started kissing me between my shoulder blades, and then on my neck. "Am I a good fucker, Stu?" "The best, Vic." "Better than Terry?" "Yeah." "But he's a lot bigger than me. Don't you like that?" "Sure, I like it when Terry fucks me. But you're my special lover." He was quiet for awhile, then pulled his dick out of me so he could lay on top. He gave me a quick kiss and then a question. "What's that mean, I'm your special lover?" A good question indeed. "Well, when I fuck guys, or suck their cocks, or let them suck or fuck me, it's for the sex. It feels great no matter what. But with you somehow whatever it is feels better. Plus you're the first boy I ever kissed." He thought for a little longer. "But we can't be like a boy and a girl, not like in school or anything." "No", I agreed. "We would be in more trouble than we could imagine. Around here people get a lot less upset about a girl getting knocked up when she's still in high school than they would if they knew what we did with each other." "But we can still make out and stuff when we get the chance, right?" "For sure. I'd feel bad if we didn't. But we don't want to be too obvious in case people might start guessing." "Well, I hardly see you in school because we're in different buildings. Plus you live in town and I don't. I guess when we do see each other we can remember to not give anything away." "Sounds like a good plan. Now I have another. Let's get our clothes on so that when your mom gets home we can be playing catch in the front yard." "Just one more thing." "What's that?" Vic took my cock in his mouth one last time, or at least what he could, and gave it a quick couple of oral strokes. Then, he popped up, planted one last kiss on me, and ran into his room to get dressed. I took a deep breath and then got up and followed him. Out of nowhere, my life had gotten much more complicated.