From: Joe Jones Subject: 1979 Date: 1 May 1997 17:29:33 -0400 Here's the disclaimer... Warning! The following story deals with consensual sexual activity between two males who may or may not be related. If such subject matter offends you, if you are under age 18, or, if by your local standards it is illegal for you to read this, STOP NOW. Get rid of this and go watch TV. If you live in such circumstances, you'll just have to go write your own smutty stories. Or live them. Now on with the show. I hope you enjoy it. -- Joe Jones 1979 by Joe Jones (author of Letters Home, The Wonder Year, The Leary Men, Man of the House and Men of the House) In the summer of 1977, when I was 12, my older sister started dating an Indian guy named Dave. She didn't tell my parents for a long time though, because she figured that when she did they found out they would kill either her or him or themselves. They weren't out and out racists, but they weren't exactly welcoming either. We were lower middle class people living in a failing city in upstate New York, just a notch over white trash ourselves, and they weren't eager to lose any ground by having their 18 year old daughter getting involved with anyone who wasn't anything other than white himself. The fact that he was 6 years older than her wouldn't exactly thrill them either. The first time she brought Dave to the house our parents were out for the night. Dave was coming over to watch a movie on TV with Sue, and she asked me to stay in the living room and watch it with them. I think I understood, even then, that if they were alone Dave might want to do things my sister didn't exactly want to do, and she hoped that having her 12 year old brother around would stop him. Dave wasn't exactly what I thought an Indian should look like. I expected a tall, lean man with long shiny black hair. But Dave was only about as tall as I was, which would have been about 5'9", and stocky. He had very short black hair, not much more than a crew cut, and square sort of face. He wore aviator-style glasses. He acted like a normal guy too. I was in love. It was a hot June night, when he came over, and he was wearing a red t shirt, blue Nike-brand sports shorts, white socks and sneakers. I could hardly take my eyes off his forearms, which were thick with muscle. Or his legs, or even just his calves, which were the size of two bricks. Both his arms and legs were hairless (except for some dark on his calves and ankles), and the smooth coppery skin fascinated me. Sue had told me that Dave was a real jock. He loved basketball, despite his less than impressive stature, and soccer. He jogged, and even lifted weights, which you could tell, by his physique. He wasn't a body builder or anything, but anyone with eyes could see that his stocky compact body was in great shape. Sure enough, while we three sat in the dark watching TV, Dave started to kiss Sue's mouth and neck. I saw out of the corner of my eye. I also saw that he had an arm around her, cupping her small breast in his hand. Nothing more than that really happened, I suppose because I was there. But I wished that it would. I wished that he would take his shirt off, and his shorts. I wanted to see all of his body. I didn't know how long I'd been attracted to men, but I knew that I was, and I knew that Dave was as fine a specimen as I'd ever seen. *** Sue continued to date Dave, and my parents eventually found out. They weren't happy about it, and they were even less happy when she moved out to live with him. They didn't like Dave (who they called "The Indian") at all, and it wasn't hard to see why. He had been raised in the very worst part of town, where there were nothing but drug dealers, gangs and welfare mothers. He worked on-and-off as a delivery man, and, as far as they were concerned, had no better prospects. It didn't matter to them that he had joined the marines when he was 18, and that he now took classes at the local community college. And nothing could make them overlook the news that in his teenage years he had fathered five children by four different girls, and that he had made very little effort to pay child support. None of those things diminished him in my eyes. In fact there wasn't much for a 12 year old boy to not like about Dave. His interests weren't far from those of an average teenage boy: sex, sports, and science fiction. You could almost always find him hanging out with other guys, and they were either talking about girls or playing basketball or soccer. At home he'd either be working out, or reading. He had a lot of books, and most of them were school books, about psychology or sexuality, but he was also a fan of Conan The Barbarian, and he had all of his books and comic books (he even had a big poster on the wall of Arnold Schwarzenegger). Rounding out Dave's reading materials were a dresser drawer full of Playboy and Penthouse magazines. Our parents hated their run down apartment, and the furniture they bought at the Goodwill. But I loved it. I spent all the time I could at their apartment, which was only about five blacks away from our home (although 5 blocks in the direction of the less appealing part of the neighborhood). In the summers, when school was out, I practically lived there. It wasn't unusual for me to fall asleep on their couch, and spend the night (or several nights in a row) at their apartment. I enjoyed being out of the watchful eye of my parents - Sue and Dave never cared what I ate or read - but I had another reason for being there. I loved watching Dave, and was alert to his every action. I didn't want to miss seeing him work out (he had a weight bench a free weights at home), or glimpsing him leaving the shower wearing a wet towel wrapped around his waist. I studied his body intently. It was as smooth and hairless as my own, though broad and muscled in ways I couldn't imagine ever being. When I was alone I would rub my dick and think of Dave's body. One day Sue went to work at the restaurant where she was waitressing, and Dave had to go register for fall classes, leaving me alone in their place for about four hours. Of course I immediately began to look through his things - for a curly pubic hair in his underwear, or a box of condoms in his dresser drawer. And then into his porn magazines. I didn't care for the pictures of women (although the thought of Dave being tuned on by them gave me some pleasure), but there were quite a few men in some of the pictures too, and I liked them. I also liked to read the stories, and letters that people would send in. Like one guy who was a telephone repair man and wrote in about how he fucked some woman who always called in for repairs when she was horny. Or another guy who wrote in about how a girl he was fucking put her fingers in his butt and made him cum. Or one guy who wrote in to tell about how he fucked his teenage sister in law. I always stroked my dick and pretended I was the girl when I read those stories, and that it was Dave who was doing those things to me. That particular day, having the opportunity to be alone with Dave's things, and reading story after story, playing with my dick felt better than ever. I just kept doing it, sniffing at a sweat scented T shirt of Dave's. My dick started to feel funny, sort of itchy, and I just kept doing it, and then I felt like I had to pee, but I couldn't stop even for that. The pee feeling increased, and I felt like I had to pee more than I ever had in my life, but I also knew that peeing never felt that good before. And then my head felt like it was going to explode, and I kept stroking my dick, and I didn't care right then if I peed all over the floor, and then the pee erupted out of me --- only it wasn't pee. It was thick and white and hot, and it splattered on my hand and on my t shirt. And I knew, of course, that I had cum. Finally! I picked up the magazines and put them away, and went to the bathroom to clean myself up. While I was in the bathroom washing off, I heard Dave and Sue come home, so I shut the bathroom door. Then I realized, to my horror, that I had left my shorts out on the floor, and taken Dave's t shirt with me instead. Also, I realized that although I had put the porn magazines away, I hadn't shut the drawer they were in. That was bad enough, but what would I do without my shorts? I just stood there, trying to think of a way out of his terrible mess. And then there was a light tapping on the door. "Joey," I heard Dave say in a hushed tone, "Joey, open the door." Not knowing what else to do, I opened the door just a little, standing there in my white underwear and T shirt. I saw Dave standing there, grinning and holding my shorts in hand. His hands were thick and strong, and bulged with veins. "I found these out there," he whispered. "Don't be embarrassed though...your sister didn't notice anything. Here." He dropped my shorts in my hand and I realized that he knew. He knew, at least roughly, what had happened, and was my secret ally. "Thanks," I whispered. "Don't worry, man," he said, and then laughed conspiratorially. "Next time I'll take longer getting home so you have more time." The next summer was pretty much like that. I hung out at Dave and Sue's when I could. I would look at Dave's magazines now and then, and he always let me know when there were new ones. I continued to masturbate, most often thinking of Dave. I learned all sorts of things from those magazines, which I didn't hesitate to try out myself within the confines of my masturbation. I didn't do much to make friends my own age, but I didn't feel I needed to, since Dave and Sue had so many cool friends, who accepted my company. They smoked pot, and drank beer, and they didn't care what I did or didn't do (except for Dave, who hardly touched any of it himself, and encouraged me not to). One of Dave's friends, Richard, I especially liked, because he was so cute, though in a very different way than Dave. He was tall, and had big furry arms. He mostly wore long pants, and shirts with collars and buttons (instead of the T shirts and shorts Dave was always in), which I guessed was because of his job as a teacher at the community college Dave went to (and where they met). Sue sometimes teased Dave by saying that he should be more like Richard, with a real job and some money and an education. She would say that she didn't understand why Richard hung out with Dave, and they would laugh. Then Dave would say that Richard always had the best pot, and then they would both laugh some more. I didn't see what was so funny, but I liked to think of Richard, and his nice furry body. A terrible thing happened that summer. Dave had been fooling around with another girl, and Sue found out. So Dave had to move out, and Sue wouldn't even talk to him anymore. I still hung out there, maybe because I had nowhere else to go, but also because Sue was the only person who was near as unhappy as I was, and as they say, misery loves company. I didn't know what Sue was thinking exactly, but I think she probably felt like her heart had been torn out of her, and like she'd be alone forever. That's how I felt. Dave tried to talk to Sue. He told her it was a mistake and that he'd never be with that girl again, and that she was the only thing he wanted --- the very words I wanted him to say to me. But Sue wouldn't have any of it. She told him that she should have known that he'd screw any hole that offered itself up to him, and that she never wanted to see him again. So Richard came over to talk to Sue, on Dave's behalf. He told her how much Dave was hurting, and how she should take him back. He went on and on about how, except for this bad deed, Dave was such a great guy. How he was so smart and funny, and handsome. How anyone would be happy to have him, and wouldn't she please forgive him. After Richard left I couldn't stop thinking about the things Richard had said. So I asked Sue about it. "Wasn't it weird," I said to her, "how he kept going on about how great Dave is?" "I guess," she answered. "He even said that Dave was really cute. That was kind of strange." "Yeah," she answered, "maybe he's in love with Dave. I always figured him for a queer." And she laughed. I realized then what I'd been really asking about all along, and it wasn't about Richard, but about myself. And so I knew what I was. Queer. *** To our parents distress and my delight, Sue took Dave back a few weeks later. My life was back to normal. As I grew older my fantasies about Dave persisted and increased, in both quantity and desire. I fantasies about other men too, but he was always the touchstone I returned to. His porn magazines fed my desires, as did his other books. In the comic books, his favorite hero, Conan, had as many sexual conquests as adventures, and he was portrayed as with black hair and reddish skin, like Dave. I couldn't help but make a connection. I also read his human sexuality books. I read more about being queer. I read about homosexual men, and even about regular men who sometimes experiment with other men. I hoped Dave would one day want to experiment with me that way. In addition to my increased lust, my teen years brought about more visible changes in my body. I was tall, taller than Dave, and good looking. I had straight golden brown hair that hung in my eyes, and similarly colored hair appearing on my arms and legs. In the summer I always tanned quickly, so my skin was golden brown, with a band of faint freckles appeared across my nose and cheeks, which made my honey colored eyes look bright and clear. I was long and lanky, but had a fair amount of lean muscle. There were a few golden hairs in the center of my chest, and growing in around my dark rose-colored nipples. I measured my dick, and it came in at 7 inches, which seemed a respectable size according to what I read in Dave's books. What I'm getting at is that I was turning into a good looking kid. If things kept to their course, by the time I was a grown man I'd be better looking than Dave, or even Richard. And I hoped that Dave would notice, and maybe want me. I kept thinking about what Sue had said to him, about fucking any hole that offered itself up to him. I wondered if that might mean my hole too, which I wanted him in so badly. So I walked around him shirtless when it seemed reasonable to do so, to show off my developing physique. I tried, inexpertly, to turn any conversation to sexual matters. One night, while I was sitting down on the couch with Dave, I purposely spilled a glass of water I was holding onto his legs, so that I could bend down between his legs to pick it up, and wipe the water from his exposed calves with a towel I had handy. He took the towel from me to finish up himself, but not before I could feel his rock hard calf in my bare hand, could see the little dark hairs there and the green-blue vein that bulged there because of all the muscle beneath them. I knelt for a long time between his legs, hoping that he would be so taken with the sight of me there that he would pull his sorts down and let me suck his cock. By the end of my fourteenth year I was doing outright stupid things. I'd try to "accidentally" walk in on Dave when he was taking a whizz. Or I'd squeeze onto the couch between him and Sue, sitting almost in his lap. Or I'd make sure to splatter some of my cum onto his new porn magazine when I'd jerk off. I'd tear little holes in the crotch of his underwear with my teeth. Or put his things in my ass when I'd jerk off: his cologne bottle, the end of his weight bar. I told him once that Sue had said he'd fuck any hole, and laughed, but he didn't think it was very funny, and he told me so. I don't know what he knew and what he didn't, but Dave seemed less happy to have me around than he once was. But not that could stop me. *** In September of 1979, I went back to school. On the first day they let us out early. My parents weren't expecting me home, so I decided to go over to Dave and Sue's place. I knew neither of them would be home for a couple of hours yet, but I had my own key, and thought I'd just let myself in and watch their TV. When I walked up to their apartment building, I saw something unexpected. It was Dave, and he was with a woman, but it wasn't my sister Sue. Instead it was a tall woman with big breasts and short auburn hair. They were standing near the door to the apartment building, and they were kissing. French kissing. After a long time, the girl gave Dave a last peck on the lips, climbed into her little sports car and drove away. Dave looked pretty happy. Until he looked across the street and saw me standing there. I walked over to him, and he suggested we go inside and talk. He begged me not to tell Sue what I had seen. He told me he was just fooling around, that was all. That it meant nothing, and would soon be over. "Tell me why I shouldn't tell her," I said to him. "Give me one good reason." I was visibly angry. Seething. Anyone might have thought that it was righteous anger, on my sister's behalf. But of course I was just envious. "Because you could break us up Joey. You don't want to do that, do you?" "What do I care if you break up? It's not my problem." "Isn't there something I could do...something to keep you from telling?" He massaged my shoulder, in his firm grip. "What do you mean?" I asked. "Can I do something to convince you? Anything? C'mon Joey. I'm not stupid." He took my chin in his hand and turned my face toward his. He kissed me lightly on my lips. He pulled me closer to him, and his tongue plied apart my lips, and darted over the surface of my teeth, and then between them. His tongue played gingerly with my own, exploring the interior of my mouth. Within minutes, I was responding in kind, our tongues writhing in each others mouths. He stopped and pulled his face away from mine. "What do you want?" he asked. "A blow job?" I nodded in agreement. I couldn't put a coherent sentence together if I'd tried. Dave unbuttoned my shorts and pulled them and my underwear down from my slim hips to my knees. My dick stood at attention, a tiny drop of precum sitting on the head. Dave crouched down over it, and wrapped his open mouth around it. I gasped as I felt his warm wet mouth slide down around the head and shaft, and then bob up and down. He wrapped his hand around the base of my cock and jerked it while he sucked the rest of it. I nervously ran my fingers through the short black bristles of his hair, and over his T shirt, feeling the broad muscles of his back beneath. His other hand was digging into his own elastic-waist shorts and massaging his dick. The thought of him working his cock was almost more exciting than his mouth working my own, and I began to thrust my hips forward, which made Dave gag a little. But as he grew accustomed to my pace, he met it, sucking harder and groaning. He let his hand drop lower, cupping my balls and squeezing them gently, and then lower again, between my legs. His fingertips roamed the space between my balls and my asshole, kneading it. And then lower again, touching my asshole lightly. One of his fingers began to poke at it, and it sent a powerful wave of pleasure through me. As the finger pressed against my hole, he moaned loudly, and suddenly took the whole length of my cock into his mouth and throat. I felt another incredible wave of pleasure, originating with his fingertip in my hole, shooting up to my balls and then through my dick, emerging from my cock as a load of hot cum fed into Dave's mouth and throat. He gagged and choked, and lifted his head off my spurting cock, but my balls kept pumping the stuff up and out, running down into my pubic hair. Standing on one leg, his knee on the couch, Dave spat out into his hand the first large gushes of cum I'd released. He looked at it in his hand, and then wiped it across the front of his shirt. His shorts were pulled down over one hip, and distorted by the erect cock inside. "Okay man," he said to me, his voice scratchy and deep. "Is it a deal?" Instead of answering, I reached forward with both hands, hooked my thumbs under the waistband of his shorts and pulled them down. Dave's cock bounced free, staring me in the face. It was a little shorter than my own, but a good deal thicker, and uniformly so from top to bottom. It was veiny, and much darker than mine. I lifted it straight up to see the hairy balls beneath it, surprised to see how much darker than my own they too were. I cupped them with one hand, and with the other pumped his cock gently, milking a bead of precum out of the head, and a moan out of Dave. The precum began to ooze off of his cock, in a slow string. I caught the drop on my tongue, and followed it all the way up to its source, wrapping my lips around the knob of Dave's cock, and sliding my lips down the shaft. I closed my eyes as I tried to take as much of his cock as I could, which wasn't much at all. I felt Dave's hands wrap around my head, pulling me closer, forcing more of his cock down my throat. "Suck it," I heard him say. I tried to take more, and did, though every now and then I'd gag and have to pull back. Dave took his T shirt off, lifting it over his head, and my hands moved up to explore the plains and valleys of his stomach and chest. I found his nipples and tweaked them while I sucked his dick. They were small, and crinkled up into bone hard erections. Dave seemed to like that. When I'd sucked his cock all I could without choking or gagging more, I looked up to him, my eyes teary. It was harder than they made it sound in the magazines, and it took a lot longer to make a man cum than I expected. Dave looked happy enough, but somehow different than he'd ever looked to me before. There was an element more alive, more dangerous, than I'd ever seen in him before. "That was pretty good," he said. "Have you ever been fucked before?" He said this as if it were the most ordinary question on Earth. "No," I answered. "Not yet." "Okay. Hold on," Dave said. He kicked off the shorts resting on his feet, turned his back on me and walked to the bathroom. I knew that I would never forget the sight of his compact muscular form, the high firm globes of his ass. He came back with a small tub of Vaseline. "Stand up," he said. When I did he lifted my T shirt off of me, and ran his blunt fingertips over my chest and stomach, pinching my nipples, tracing a straight line down the center of my chest and stomach, into the bush of hair growing around my dick, and wrapping around the base of my again erect cock. He kissed me very lightly on the lips and said "Turn around." I did as he told me too, facing the window behind the couch. Outside, and two floors down I could see the heads of women and children passing by, as Dave put his hand in the center of my back, pushing me down. I gripped the backside of the couch for support, and felt something cold touch my asshole. Dave's fingers worked some Vaseline into my asshole, slipping the tips of his finger, then fingers, in and out. Then it felt like the base of his thumb was kneading my asshole, and somehow pressing into it. And then I realized it wasn't any part of his hand. It was his cock. Dave began to slide his dick into my tight virgin hole. As he inched more and more into me my bowel twitched, and reflexively I tried to move away from the invading force. But Dave took hold of my hips, keeping me in place. "Stay with me," he said. When it was all inside me, he rested in place, giving my body a moment to grow accustomed to the feel of his cock lodged in me. I started to rock back and forth on his cock, and waves of pleasure ripple through me. "There you go," he said, and began to pump his cock into me. As he continued, my bowel relaxed, and I really started to enjoy the feel of his prick sliding in and out of me. Seeing that I was doing better, he started to pound into me hard, and then harder. My legs felt weak, and I longed to at least kneel, but Dave was fucking me so good and hard that I wasn't about to change a thing. I could feel Dave's hands run over the small of my back, and then clamp down on either side of my waist, pulling me back to be impaled again ands again on his erection. I looked back over my shoulder to watch him. Beads of sweat were building on his forehead, and in the general area of his collarbone. His lips were tightly closed in a sort of smile, and his eyes were closed too. He continued to ride me for a long time, and every time I thought he was getting close to cumming he'd just shift his position, and fuck me even harder in some new way. He'd spread his legs, or draw them closer together, press down on me so my back would arch, or hike me up again. I couldn't believe how quickly and powerfully he could keep fucking me. Once or twice I tried to stand, so I could be closer to him, maybe kiss him, but he didn't seem interested in that, and his hand on my back shoved me down every time. Finally it just got to be too much for me, and I could feel my dick and balls tense with every thrust of Dave's. I let my hand began to stroke my cock, and as I did my sphincter clutched hard on Dave's cock, making him shove his cock even deeper into me. I started making weird whimpery little noises, and I knew I was rapidly building to another orgasm. "I'm gonna'," I whispered, "gonna' cum..." Dave took that as his cue to pick up his pace, his hips pumping like a piston, again and again pulling his cock out and then driving it back into me so fast that I couldn't even tell what was happening. My skin tingled everywhere, and I felt the cum churning up from my balls through the length of my cock. The white stream gushed out of me, thick and hot. "Yeah man, oh fuck...FUCK!" Dave grunted, as my sphincter spasmed around his cock buried so deeply in me. "Stay with me man...cum for me baby..." His non-stop fuck pounding the last spurts of cum out of me, as my legs trembled and buckled. Dave's strong arms wrapped around my waist, holding me up. Beads of sweat dropped from his brow onto my back, and I could feel jolts of pain and pleasure as he thrust his cock forward into me. He had pummeled me fast and hard earlier, but now more urgently, pulverizing my guts with his hammer-like cock. Then I heard him make animal like grunts, and one impossibly deep thrust which penetrated me completely, as he filled me with a huge load of his cum, fucking it into me mercilessly, until his balls had pumped out every last ounce of cum. When he finished, he slid his cock out of my worn tender hole, and I collapsed onto my knees on the couch. I turned around to face Dave. His semi-hard dick hung down, a clear fluid dripping from its head. His torso was covered with perspiration. His close cropped hair was wet through, and sweat ran down his face and neck in thin rivulets. I knew that that was how Dave sweat after a particularly grueling game of basketball, or lifting weights. "Thanks," I said, feeling stupid. What was I supposed to say? "It was incredible"? Dave looked serious. Firmly, he said "You'd better get your clothes on. Before your sister gets home." "Okay," I said. I wanted him to be friendly again. To like me. "I won't say anything," I added. "About that girl." "Okay," he said to me. He picked up his shorts and went to the bathroom to wash up. I vaguely understood what had just happened had been a different experience for the two of us. I wondered if I had done something wrong, or of he had. So I put my clothes on, and went home. Two weeks later I turned fifteen. *** Dave and Sue didn't stay together long after that. By the end of the year, Sue had kicked him out again, and this time he didn't struggle so hard to be taken back. After that he went back to school full time, and eventually got a degree in sociology. The last I heard he was some sort of social worker, counseling Native American (we used to say "Indian" back in 1979) kids who were in trouble. Sue married a nice guy who didn't turn me on at all. They have a kid, and are hoping to buy a house in the next few years. To my parents' great happiness I did well in high school, went on to a good college and a fine grad school. To their great disappointment, I never did much of anything with my degree was in English, which would not make me the sort of success they were hoping for. I'm an AIDS counselor now, in another city. Sometimes I go to high schools and do safe-sex talks for teenagers. During my college years, I ran into Dave's friend Richard in a gay bar. Sue was right after all: he was queer (but in 1997 we say "gay"). He was very closeted, and asked me please not to tell Sue that he was gay, even though she knew that I was. I confessed to him my enormous crush on Dave, and confessed the same to me. He told me that one night at his place, he and Dave got really high, and Dave let Richard suck him off. I didn't know if I believed him or not, but I decided not to tell him any more of my own story than I had already. I asked Richard if he wouldn't mind giving me a ride to my parents' house, where I was staying for the summer. I thought that once we got into the car, I'd blow him, or maybe we'd go to his place for something more. But by the time we were in the car, he was way too drunk to drive, so I took his keys, drove him home. From there I walked the rest of the way to my parent's place, disappointed. It's not that he was so gorgeous -- I knew by then that neither Richard nor Dave were really quite as handsome as my less experienced self had once thought -- but he did have nice furry arms, and I would have liked to have done him just once, for old time's sake. End