Date: Fri, 28 Dec 2018 16:48:23 -0500 From: Wilde Wilde Subject: Finding My Tribe, Chapter 3 (Adult-Youth) This is a work of fiction. No resemblance to any person, living or dead, is intended. Copyright reserved by author, 2018 3. On the way home that evening, and all that night, I tried to understand what had just happened to me and what it might mean. I'd had a fantastic time, more fun than anything I'd ever done before or ever fantasized about, and even though we didn't get very far, it was the first real sex I'd ever had -- except that it was sex with MEN, and now that the most intense part of the high was over, the inner voice of fear woke up again. I began to remember all the awful things about "homosexuals" that I'd internalized over the years: how they were unhappy, self-loathing, outcasts looked down upon by everyone. Was that a life I wanted for myself? Had I just doomed myself to exactly that? But what about Bob and Rick, and all those other guys in The Oak? They seemed to be normal people leading the kind of mainly ordinary lives (apart from sex) that most people lived. And what about my Uncle Mike? In his late 30s, he was unmarried and living in Greenwich Village, though not too close to The Oak, thank God, and besides, he was traveling that summer, so he couldn't have seen me. Though my parents never said that Mike was gay, or even so much as hinted to me that he might be, I was semi-aware that they knew he was. I avoided thinking about that myself, if only because I adored him too much to believe such a thing. Mike was smart, devastatingly funny when he wanted to be, generous, and somebody on whom I could practice being a funny gay kid using jokes as a defense mechanism, even though I didn't understand any of that. I wanted to be just like him and now I began to wonder. If Rick and Bob were gay, could Mike really be, too? Was I? And would it be okay, just maybe, if I were? These were questions for which I had no answers. All the next week I couldn't get Rick and Bob out of my head. I wanted to be with them. I was afraid to be with them. A few years later, in college, I read that Voltaire said about experimenting with "sodomy," "Once a philosopher, twice, a pervert." That about summed up my position. In all that turmoil, though, there was one piece of good news: I woke up the morning after that encounter at The Oak feeling fine. I'd gone to bed the night before fearing that I'd be wracked by guilt and shame forever over what I'd done, but it didn't happen. This was a great relief, but it didn't entirely dispel my confusion and fear. And every night that week -- my parents were now home so I had to be careful during the day -- I'd lay in bed jerking myself off two or three times before falling asleep, thinking of Bob and Rick and what we'd done. * * * After I'd come all over Rick and myself that afternoon we met, and Bob had brought paper towels to clean us up, Rick said that he thought they should get even with me for getting my "kid cum" all over him. "Let's come all over HIM," he said. "That'll teach the little brat." "Teach him what, though?" Bob mused. Not waiting for an answer, Bob hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his boxers and down they came. Rick was half a beat behind him. I looked long and shamelessly at their naked bodies. I'd seen naked adult men before, every week of the summer in the locker room of our town pool, but this was something else altogether. Most of the men in that locker room didn't look sexy and they certainly didn't try to. Glancing furtively at their dicks and balls was about as arousing as looking at an illustration of them in a medical text. Bob and Rick, on the other hand, were seriously hot and they knew it, but that hotness wasn't just about their looks. Sex was in the way they moved. It was in their lewd half-grins and the way they returned my gaze. These guys WANTED me to look at them naked, WANTED me to get turned on by them, and they looked right back at me in a way that nobody had ever done before, because they wanted the same thing from me that I was getting from them. "Stuart, are you there?" Bob asked, snapping his fingers like a hypnotist waking a subject. I heard him but I still didn't move. Rick came over, grabbed the waistband of my boxers and slowly lowered them. "Let me help you," he said softly before pulling me into him for a full body hug. My dick began to stir again as it pressed against his. We stood there facing each other, stroking our cocks slowly at first. Unlike those masturbatory sessions back at camp, Bob, Rick and I made eye contact with each other, except when we lowered our gaze to crotch level. Since the only other erections besides my own that I'd ever seen before had belonged to 14 year old boys, I was pretty impressed.. Having just had the orgasm of my life, I was able to last longer this time and not come before my hosts. As their strokes grew faster and they got closer, Rick said to Bob, "Okay, let's give it to him!" They pointed their dicks straight at me and up toward my chest. Within 30 seconds cum started flying at me, first from Bob, and a few moments later from Rick. My chest and belly were covered with ropes and blobs of pearly white semen. That was all it took to trigger my orgasm, and though it wasn't nearly as powerful as the first one, it was enough to leave a few trails of cum on Bob, at whom I'd aimed because fair is fair and I'd already blown a load on Rick. One long group hug was enough to smear everybody's cum all over everybody else. As we disentangled our bodies and the guys turned to head to the bathroom to clean up, I stopped to admire their muscular asses which I really hadn't had much of a chance to do up till then. Only when they disappeared into the bathroom did I follow them. The adage, "two's company, three's a crowd," is never more true than in a bathtub. Three guys trying to shower at once sounds a lot hotter than it is. Still, though, I enjoyed letting them soap me up and only rinsed off and got out when they tactfully -- sort of -- suggested that they'd like to get cleaned up themselves. Since my underwear was a cummy, sweaty, mess, and we both wore the same size, Bob gave me his to wear home. I put them on and looked in the mirror. Seeing myself in the underpants that I'd just seen him in, feeling them against my skin, made me shiver Rick and Bob poured us one last drink before I left and asked me twice not to be shy about coming back. I took the phone number they gave me, folded it and put it in my wallet, and told them that I'd like to see them again. Then they walked me to the subway and sent me on my way back to New Jersey where, as I said, I spent the next week obsessing about them and thinking of little else. ________________________________ AUTHOR'S NOTES: Please join me in supporting Nifty in recognition of the unique role they play in bringing readers and writers together. Even a small donation helps. To contribute, go to http://donate.nifty.org/donate _________________________________ I know this chapter is a little on the short side, guys. The next one will be longer. I promise! I welcome readers' comments, for better or for worse. Please send them to WildeWilde115@gmail.com. Nifty contributor Phoenix, who strongly encouraged me to write this story (Thank you!), has some well-told stories of his own on Nifty. If you're looking for more reading, try two of his: "My Boyfriend and My Two Dads" (Incest) and "Room 141" (College). Lexnifty also inspired me (Thank you, too, Alex!)to write and also knows how to tell a story well. Check out his "My Little Brother the Slut" (Incest) for more good writing. Happy new year everybody! See you again soon. Wilde