By the way, Janus is the name of the Roman god who looks forward and backward at once. Don't violate laws by reading this personal recollection of my youth. No one was harmed in this reminiscence, which is intended for adult use in the comfort of their own minds. Youth sometimes takes risks, wisely or unwisely. If you email, please be civil.

Two More Conversations

By Bi_janus (bi_janus@comcast.net)

John approached me in the parking lot as I was leaving school one day. I said, "John, don't even think about starting with me. I don't want to hurt you."

He looked at me intently and said, "I thought I was the only one."

"The only . . .?"

"You know. The only queer," he said quietly with his head and eyes turned down. I could see his chest moving with his rapid breathing.

"John, you're always with Mary Ann. Jesus, John, what are you talking about?"

"I know. I want so much to be normal, but when I'm with Mary Ann I'm usually thinking about another guy. I like her, but to get off with her, I have to think of someone like you and I just never thought I would ever know someone like me. I mean I know you could kick my ass if I'm wrong."

I looked around and saw that people were watching us as we talked. "Look, can you come to my house? I think you and I need to talk some more about this."

"O. K. I really need for you and me to figure this out . . . if there is a this."

"Why don't we walk separately? No sense in outing you to everybody. You know where I live?"

He nodded. I walked off in one direction and John walked in a different one. I was trying to figure out how he knew where I lived. I really hoped this wasn't a set-up. I didn't think I could stand that. He looked really upset, though. But, I knew I had to keep alert. I got to my house pretty quickly and walked in to hear my mom in the kitchen.

"Hey, sweet pea! You look preoccupied."

"Yeah, someone's coming over for a little talk."

"Oh, who?"

"John."

Her brows went up and she asked, "That John?"

"Yeah. Could you give us a little privacy?"

"Message received. No wonder you seem to have a little more energy. I'll be in the office."

Only five minutes or so passed until the door bell rang. I hadn't been jumped on the way home, so maybe this was on the level. I looked through the peep glass to see an agitated John waiting and looking from side to side. I opened the door and motioned him in. He wouldn't make eye contact as he came through the door. His eyes darted about the entrance like a spooked dog. Finally, he asked, "Are we alone?"

"Pretty much. Mom's in the office, but she's giving us our space."

"She knows I'm here? I mean, she doesn't know why, does she?"

He was tense and seemed ready to bolt. I reached out and put a hand lightly on his shoulder. He flinched slightly, but looked at me. "John, relax. She knows you're here because I told her and she knows we're going to talk, so she won't intrude. I suspect she knows why because she knows I've had a crush on you."

He simultaneously registered what I said and looked at me like I was a lunatic. "Your mother knows you're hot for a guy? My parents would put me away if they knew how I feel."

"Well, I'm lucky. Let's go to my room. You might feel safer there." I walked down the hallway to my doorway and through to my room, which was pretty typical except that in addition to beautiful females the walls were hung with shirtless and very hot guys. John looked around from my not very precisely made queen-size bed to my docked I-Pod and speakers to the laptop at my desk. Then his attention turned to the artwork and he looked very confused. "Yeah," I joked, "I like both."

A little light went on in his brain, like his confusion about me was suddenly clear. "How is that even possible, Robbie?"

I sat on my bed and indicated that he should sit at my desk chair. I didn't want to assume anything about where this was going, but in a little corner of my imagination I knew where I wanted it to go. I'd been drooling over him for some time, now. He was nervously looking around again. "John, look at me. I'm not going to hurt you in any way. So, talking to me in the lot took a bucket full of guts."

"I guess, but you never denied anything. You just let people go with their own judgments, but you didn't let anyone fuck with you. I had to take a chance."

"I stopped fighting it a long time ago. It's just the way I am. It'd be easier if I were straight, but that's never been a choice . . . just the way things are. How long have you known?"

"Oh, I've always been hot for boys, but I know it's wrong. I thought I would change if I just tried hard enough. I can, you know, get hard with girls, but it's just doesn't feel right. Something's missing. And then, when I . . ." He looked embarrassed and I waited.

"Finally, I said, "When you . . .?" and I made the universal guy sign for jerking off.

"Yeah. I always think about guys and I haven't been able to change that. Mary Ann jerks me off and I cum, but when I imagine doing it with some guy, it's so much better."

"Some guy?"

He looked down and whispered, "It's you a lot of the time."

"Well, it looks like even though we haven't talked to each other a lot, we've had a lot of mental sex together."

Jon finally smiled along with blushing. "Really?"

"Oh, most definitely. But there are a lot of feelings mixed in with the sexual ones."

John locked eyes with me, and I could see he'd made a decision. He stood and moved to the bedside where he sat beside me so that we were touching from shoulder to hip to leg. He closed his eyes and leaned into me. I saw the same beauty that had originally attracted me and we kissed. I've had a lot of kisses, before and after that one, but that one is in the top twenty, like falling through a barrier, without any fear about the landing. He whimpered a little and I felt his tongue on my lips. As we frenched, I leaned back and pulled us onto the bed, leaning over him and continuing to kiss. He was to my right, and I ran my left hand down over his chest and stomach, finally resting my palm on a very hard dick, which I squeezed gently, eliciting a moan into my mouth. He was smaller than I, but still a nice handful. I wanted to see it.

I sat up leaving John on his back with his legs over the side of the bed. He opened his eyes and stared at me with a slightly confused look. I smiled and reached to begin opening his jeans to tug them down. "I don't know what to do, Robbie."

"I guess not from what you've said, but I do. I don't want to rush this if you'd rather wait."

"Shit, no! I mean I've imagined this so many times."

I unbuttoned his 501s and pulled them down revealing his white y-fronts. "Very nice. You have a great body and I like what's inside, too," I said, touching the center of his chest.

"Thanks. I'm nervous." He began to push his underwear down, but I stopped him.

"I'd like to do that, if it's O.K."

Smiling at him and looking him in the eye, I pulled the waist band out and slid the cloth down toward his feet. I was kneeling between his legs now, and pulled the shorts off his feet, throwing them in a corner of my room. His shirt was still on, but he looked really hot. His belly was taught and smooth; his dick was tight against his body, curving slightly. Unlike me, he was cut, and his dick was a perfect thickness and shape. "Shouldn't you lock the door?"

"No one will come in. Trust me and just relax."

He was leaning up on his elbows, watching me gently lift his rod off his belly as I began lightly stroking him. He mewled a little and asked, "Would you take your clothes off?"

"Sure, John." I stood and pulled my T-shirt off and then dropped my shorts and underwear. My erection popped out, pointing toward the ceiling, but not tight against me like his.

"Holy shit, Robbie. You're huge. I knew from my play with Bonnie, Will, and Gray that I was on the large side, and I was uncut, which was a bit unusual among my peers.

"I wouldn't say huge, but I guess I'm above average. You know it's also about who the cock's attached to that makes this hot." I had resumed a light stroking and he was thrusting into my fist. I leaned down and licked from the base of the underside of his dick to the top where I stopped to lick around the head. He didn't have a lot of hair, but you could definitely tell he wasn't a little kid. I trimmed mine because I didn't like hair in my mouth, so turn about is fair play. He held his breath, and I looked up, fixing his gaze, while I pried his dick up toward my mouth. I let saliva fill my mouth and took him all the way to his pubes. He sucked in his breath and immediately began spasming his juice into my mouth. This is why I'll never be able to give up sex with boys. The feeling of pulsation in my mouth and the taste and texture of his cum was so good. I held him in my mouth moving up and down just a little until his sensitivity increased and he begged me to stop.

I licked my lips and swallowed the last of his load. Then I dove up on top of him and kissed him, pushing my tongue and his taste into his mouth. Pulling us to our sides, I held him and told him that I felt peaceful. Finally, he said, "Shit, that was fucking spectacular. I can't believe you swallowed it. I don't taste too bad, do I?"

"No, you taste like you, and that's not bad in any sense."

That day, John played with me, ending with a very nice hand job after which he sampled my stuff and apparently liked it. The problem with relationships between guys our age is that there's no way to publicly acknowledge them. We couldn't hold hands at school or share a quick kiss after my swim practice. So, over a few years and well into high school we were friends who had sex. Then there was my small complication. John never did figure out how I could enjoy girls so much. Not that he ever owned up to anyone else about how he felt about me. I think he was afraid to let it get too emotional. John became a really fine friend, one I would have loved even if we never had sex. We did, however, continue to have sex in most of its forms and we laughed and cried together and shared so much of our lives. He became what I had hoped Gray would have been. John continued to go out with girls, good girls so there was never any sexual pressure on either side, and, as far as I know, he never came out to his parents. During our last year in high school, his dad was transferred to the midwest and we gradually lost touch. I like to think that he found a great guy and that they forged a remarkable life together.

After we had dressed, we left my room. Mom was out of the office and we sort of bumped into her. "I hope you guys had some fun," she said, knowing that John would be mortified. He was, turning a deep red. "You know, John, if you're going to be part of Robbie's life, you'll have to get used to approval and to at least one adult loving you just as you are."