Date: Thu, 9 May 2002 07:11:51 EDT
From: NJRimzu@aol.com
Subject: Tony and Me  Chapter 3

This is the story of how my relationship with my friend Tony changed when
we discovered sex. The usual warnings apply, i.e., don't read it if you're
not supposed to or don't want to. The story is true, to the best of my
recollection. The names have been changed to protect the guilty

Tony and Me

I started hanging around Tony's house every afternoon after school. Often,
the window was open and we would repeat the scene. One day, he told me to
go around to the back door. He greeted me at the door.

"No one else is home. We've got the place to ourselves."

We went over to the couch took down our pants and took off our shirts. We
touched each other, running our hands over each other's smooth, hairless
chests. I couldn't get over how beautifully he had grown up and developed
since our first encounter. He was still only about 5'4" with a small
frame. But he was all muscle and had perfect six pack abs. I kept running
my hands over his abs, marveling at how muscular they were. He ran his over
mine, teasing me because these was not a trace of a six pack there. And
then, I gave him what I owed him. I took his beautiful fat Italian sausage
in my mouth and made love to it. I could only get about half in, so I
stroked the rest until he came and I finally got to taste him.

I walked home in a daze, thinking about how wonderful life was, how it was
all like a romantic fantasy come true. But it wasn't quite. He still didn't
hang out with me like before. When we got together, it was just for
sex. And that was becoming more and more one sided. I don't think I even
realized exactly when he stopped doing anything to me, and it just became
me servicing him. One day, I invited him over for a game of pool (and sex,
of course). While walking to my house, I tried to make small talk, just
normal conversation. I said I was coming down with a cold. His only
response, "Your cold won't be a problem to me where your mouth is gonna
be."

One day, when his parents weren't home, he took me up to his bedroom. As
soon as we got in the room, he opened his pants and ordered me to suck
him. I hesitated. He said, "What's the matter? You know you want it."

I admitted I did want it, but told him I really wanted to be friends too.

"Friends? This is sex. I'm horny; you want me. That's all this is."

"But.we've always been friends. And we both want this."

"You want it. I just want to get off. My friend Gary has his little brother
blow him almost every day. I've got you. If you want it. And you know you
do."

With that, he lay down on the bed and said, "Suck it". And I did. I hated
what was happening. I wanted to be friends again like we had been
before. But he was so beautiful.  At the same time I was feeling depressed,
used and humiliated, I couldn't help but be totally turned on by his
incredible body. And so I did what he wanted me to do which was also what I
wanted to do. And I hated it. And I loved it.

After that, he became even less friendly. When we got together, all of his
conversation was instructions on how I was to pleasure him. Once I got my
driver's license, he'd have me borrow one of my parent's cars, drive him to
some deserted spot, and suck him, sometimes in the car, sometimes out along
the side of the road. By then I was a senior in high school and he was a
sophomore. Every time he'd pass me in the hall, he'd call me a faggot, no
matter who was around. And then I'd usually go over to his house after
school and blow him.  One time in the winter, I was out walking and passed
Tony and his friend Gary. The two of them jumped me and threw me face down
in the snow. I finally got loose, and they chased me halfway home, throwing
snowballs at me, calling me `Faggot" and `Cocksucker". Me a senior, being
humiliated by a sophomore and a freshman. And still I went back for
more. Even after I went away to college, made some new friends and a new
life, and even had a few new gay experiences, whenever I came home on
weekends, I'd go look him up.

The last time I saw Tony I guess I was 19 and he was 17. He wasn't looking
anywhere near as good as he used to. His beauty seemed to have peaked by
16.He picked me up in his car and drove to the elementary school we had
gone to and parked in the lot.

"I met a guy at the shore this summer who showed me something new I want to
try on you." were the first words he'd said since I'd gotten in the car. He
had me rise up while he slid over to the passenger seat, his pants down and
his hard dick pointing straight up.  He then positioned me over his dick
and pulled me down on it. I'd never been fucked and was tight as hell, and
he was using no lube at all, so there was no way it was going to happen,
though he kept trying, pulling me down on him. Finally, I sucked him off,
got out of the car, and walked home. I never saw him again. I guess I'd
finally had enough of him.

I've never been able to figure out why I did what I did for him for all
those years. Sure, he was beautiful and sexy with an incredible cock. But
he was so rude and unfriendly, treating me with contempt, humiliating me at
every opportunity. And I kept going back.  Hating it and loving it, hating
him and loving him.

Soon after that last time, he graduated from high school and joined the
Navy. A year or so later, there was an engagement announcement in the local
paper. My Tony was getting married.