Date: Mon, 4 Jul 2016 05:21:19 +0000 (UTC)
From: devonskylar@yahoo.com
Subject: Blurring the Lines: Chapter One

*DISCLAIMER* This story contains depictions of male on male, graphic sexual
interactions. The characters are high school aged and sometimes have unsafe
sex. ALWAYS USE A CONDOM! This is a complete work of fiction and any
similarities to persons or events is purely coincidental. Enjoy the story!

If it is illegal for you to read this kind of material, please turn back
and close this page immediately.

Author's Note:

Every chapter will be told in alternating points of view between Charlie
and Jeremy. Also, each chapter will have its own unique title that relates
to the plot, because I think that's a cool thing to do.

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Charlie McCallister
Chapter One: New Year's Eve
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Treat it like it's a movie. Opening scene set at a rich kid's house. The
parents M.I.A. like they should be in a teen film. The lights have been
turned way down low and beer cans are strewn cross the floor while the room
is filled with the pungent smell of weed. Lots of it.

The inmates have been put in charge of the oversized asylum. And their
theme song has been decided -- Nirvana's Smells Like Teen Spirit. Apropos,
wouldn't you say?

Extras have placed themselves into precariously R-rated positions in
various states of fashionable disarray. A few have even taken themselves
into the NC-17 direction to much success and critical acclaim. This won't
be your average teen film. Think of it more as a Porky's/Animal
House/Showgirls hybrid turned up to eleven and then add a million. You get
the picture?

In the center of the living room set, our protagonist has made himself
quite comfortable with his knees spread a mile wide, a joint poised between
two long fingers and his body sunken into the sofa.

That's me. Charlie McCallister -- your prototypical six-foot-two, two
hundred and twenty pound blonde-haired, blue-eyed hunk of a narrator. And
since I will be telling the story, I get the establishing shot; as well as
the first credit.

The house so happened to be my ex-girlfriend, Sarah Piper's. We had broken
up almost a year ago, but we hadn't told anybody just yet. Not because we
were trying to pull some shady shit or anything, but because we didn't want
to answer the "why" of it all. Merely because there was no answer. Things
just sort of...fizzled.

If you're curious to know what she looks like, just press pause. She's
standing in the background in a dress so tight it's amazing that it made it
past the censors. She's just as prototypical as me. A cheerleader -- which
means she's a blonde, perpetually bubbly, super athletic and kind of a
bitch.

And since she's a cheerleader, it's not a giant leap to realize that I must
be a football player. And I was. Pretty damn good at it too if I did say so
myself.

The night was to be a long one. Everyone was anticipating the biggest part
-- counting down to one, yelling, "Happy New Year!" and kissing their
significant other...or their friend with benefits. We weren't a picky
bunch.

By the time 11:55 rolled around, we were all pretty much wasted and/or high
as a mother-effin' kite. I was both. So out of it, I was amazed at myself
for being able to stand myself upright and walk on over to the dark corner
of the room where Sarah's half-brother sat on the floor criss-cross apple
sauce.

His name was Jeremy. Wardrobe's put him in some indie punk band shirt that
only the most fervent fan would know of and makeup's given him dark
half-moons beneath his already heavy-lidded eyes that rested behind a pair
of glasses that made him look like a genius. Not that I knew what a genius
would look like; I was far from being one.

Judging by the bored expression glued onto his face, it seemed he didn't
want to be here. The only thing keeping him from dragging his scrawny self
up the stairs to his pitch-black bedroom was a never-ending supply of
Marlboro's. One of which was already perched between his lips, shrouded by
a thin screen of smoke that hid his olive-skinned complexion from view.

If it wasn't for the fact that the smoke didn't waft down to the lower
portion of his rail-thin body, I wouldn't have even known he was there.

But since I did, and because I was drunk/high, I decided to keep him
company. Now, before tonight, I never said more than "Happy Birthday!" or
"May you please pass the salt?" to him. I knew who he was like I knew Pluto
wasn't a planet anymore. Relevant on a test, but not to my everyday life. I
had more important things to worry about, like getting into a good college
on a C-plus average, than to know what Jeremy thought of life. But if I had
to wager a guess, I'd say he didn't give life much thought. Like, ever.

"Hello," I said as I squatted down beside him. But he didn't answer me
back, so I tried another approach. "Having fun?"

"No."

"How come?"

He shrugged and didn't even bother to look at me while he did it. Just
shrugged and kept his eyes glued to the rug beneath him.

"This isn't your kind of thing. Is it?"

"Nope."

Jeremy seemed to be a very one-word answer kind of guy. It was like pulling
teeth but I managed to get a few more words out of him when I asked, "What
would you rather be doing?"

"Meet me upstairs and I'll show you."

He got up off of the floor and sullenly meandered his way up the staircase
in the foyer and out of the camera's view.

I looked around me. No one was paying me any attention. Sarah was busy
hob-nobbing with some guy from a different school. Now, that confused the
hell out of me. He didn't even go here so how could he know about this
party?

I didn't dwell on it for long because I was pretty curious to find out what
Jeremy would rather be doing than drinking and smoking and eating all the
Lays chips he could eat.

So, I followed in his footsteps and made my way up to the second floor
which was eerily quiet. I could hear my big feet — size fourteen, if
you're at all curious — echoing with every step I took. It amazed me
that nobody else was curious to see what I was up to. It was pretty hard to
miss me what with my being freakishly tall and all (Something Jeremy would
say a lot more in the coming weeks, but that would be a spoiler and I'm not
a total douchebag, despite what he might think).

I made it to his bedroom at the end of the hall. The door was closed but
not locked. I looked up at the poster that clung to the wood. It was of a
band I had never heard of. But maybe you have? -- Death Cab for Cutie.

Anyways, I placed my hand on the knob and turned. I had never once stepped
foot into his room, so it came as quite a shock to me to be met with an
overwhelmingly white room. For someone who appeared so dark, he certainly
didn't like living in it.

It was so bright, I had to squint my eyes until they adjusted to the
ambience. When they did, I found Jeremy sitting at the foot of his bed with
a look no different from before.

"Hi," I said, not knowing how else to respond to him.

"Come, sit." He patted the open spot beside him and I obliged. But he gave
me one hell of a dirty look. I don't think he anticipated just how much
room a big guy like me would take up. I practically pushed him off the bed
with my big ass and beefy thighs.

"Squats and lunges," I smiled guiltily.

He harrumphed and stared straight ahead. "You didn't close the door."

"I'm sorry. Did you want me to?"

"No, I'll get it." And get it he did with a forceful slam. "No one will
bother us now."

"Why would they? They don't even know we're up here."Jeremy cocked his head
and narrowed his eyes. "You're smarter than I imagined."

"I have my moments," I said with a tinge of red in my cheeks.

"And then you go and say something dumb?"

"Yeah," I chuckled. "Something like that."

We stayed there, him standing in front of the now-closed door and I sitting
at the foot of his bed, for what felt like fifteen minutes but was more
like two or three.

"You were going to show me what you'd rather be doing?"

"I was. And I am. But not yet." He glanced at his watch, leaving me hella
confused and scratching my head with my index finger.

"Right now," he continued, "I just want us to sit here and enjoy the sound
of silence.

"Alright," I said. I could do that. Piece of cake.

Boy was I wrong. No sooner did we begin quiet time did I have a sneezing
fit.

Jeremy scowled the scowl of the mortally offended. "What didn't you get
when I said the sound of silence?"

"I'm sorry." I frowned. "I'm just getting over a cold."

"It's always something with you guys."

"With `you guys?'" I didn't know what he was getting at. Thankfully, he
explained.

"Yeah. Jock-asses."

"Umm...you mean jackasses?"

"No. You're a jock who's an ass. Ergo, jock-ass."

I couldn't help but laugh at that nickname. It was actually quite ingenious
and I told him so.

"You would like that," he said with a roll of his eyes. "It's time."

Had I been more of an observant son of a bitch, I would've noticed what the
alarm clock on his bedside table read: 11:59 P.M. And if I was smart, I
would've put two and two together and anticipated what was to come next.

But alas, I wasn't that bright and was caught off-guard when Jeremy's hands
were at the fly of my jeans, zipping them down and pulling them to my
ankles.

And if I had been in this kind of position before with a dude, I would've
known that this wasn't his first rodeo. When he pulled down my jeans, he
included my tighty-whities with the move so I was showing him my flaccid
five-inched snake hiding in a small, but retro, bush that was resting atop
a clean-shaven sack of baseballs.

"Mazel Tov." He licked his lips as he stared at the head of my dick. "I see
you've had your bris."

"Excuse me?" I said. "I failed Spanish -- three times."

He rolled his eyes again and flashed me that soon-to-be recurrent scowl.

"It's not Spanish. It's Hebrew. I said congrats, you're circumcised."

"Oh, thanks" I said sheepishly. Just because I was packing a big one that
got even bigger when erect didn't mean I didn't still get flustered when
someone made note of it. I wasn't an egotistical douche. Just a dumb
one. "Are you circumcised?"

"No, I'm not," came his flat reply.

"How come?" I asked, actually curious to know why.

"Most Hispanics aren't," he said with a shrug.

And that would be all the screenwriter wrote before Jeremy took Charlie
Jr. into his mouth and sucked on him like his life depended on it.

It wasn't long until I was at full mast -- hitting a height of nine inches
and thickening to the width of a beer can before I was beginning to moan
and clutch the sheets.

My feet were fidgeting in my Nike sneakers, my eyes were rolling into the
back of my head and sweat was beginning to form on my brow.

Jeremy was a damn good cocksucker. The best I'd ever had the pleasure of
experiencing. When girls sucked my dick, it was all dainty-like. They were
too hesitant to take much of the monster in their mouth and if they did,
they were too busy trying not to throw up to really give it to me good.

But Jeremy had no such hesitations. He was slurping and stroking my meat
like his life depended on it. He was determined to taste the nectar and I
was rapidly willing to let him.

I felt my hips start to thrust, yearning for more action on my cock and
Jeremy obliged. It wasn't long before I was shoving my knuckles in my mouth
to keep from groaning too loud and alerting the partygoers directly beneath
us that there was a whole lot of sucking going on.

I had to lay down, sitting up was beginning to prove too daunting a task. I
let the feelings wash over my entire body and it was an ecstasy trip like
no other. His mouth was hot and wet and because I was unable to watch, I
found myself imagining how it looked sliding in and out of his plump lips.

Before I knew it, he had mastered the act of taking my entire penis into
his mouth. When I felt the head of my dick meet the back of his throat, I
switched to biting down on my palm. The feeling was too intense for me not
to shout out.

I suddenly felt very light-headed. All the blood in my brain had been
rerouted to my dick and I didn't think it'd ever return.

But return it did when Jeremy picked up the pace just as the faint sounds
of teenagers counting down from what was now fifteen wafted up from the
floor.

If it wasn't for the fact that because I was receiving the best damn
blowjob known to mankind, that I wasn't able to think straight, I'd have
cried foul for being ready to cum after only forty-five seconds of sucking.

By the time the people downstairs got to five, Jeremy was sucking faster
than a whore in a brothel. His head was a blur on my super wet dick and
when I saw that, I was done for.

My orgasmic cries were drowned out by everyone screaming, "Happy New Year,"
and I faintly made a mental note to thank Jeremy for timing it so
perfectly.

Shot after shot of my seed flowed down his throat. It was the most I had
ever came. My balls literally felt like they were being drained entirely
and I fleetingly feared that I would never be able to come again.

But I knew that couldn't be possible so I went back to riding out my
orgasm. My body was shaking on the bed and my toes were curled tight. I
probably looked like a spaz. But I was a happy spaz. Scratch that, I was an
extremely happy spaz.

Once I came down from my personal high, Jeremy licked up the little bit
that was leaking from my now-softened dick before tucking me back into my
underwear and zipping up my fly.

He stood up and looked at me with a neutral expression. "That's what I'd
rather be doing."

And with that being said, he turned around and walked out the door. It was
faint, but I did hear him offscreen say, "Happy New Year, Charlie."

And so I said it back, "Happy New Year, Jeremy," before passing the fuck
out on his bed.

I awoke in the middle of the night to find myself on the floor and wearing
nothing but my tighty-whities and tube socks. Rising to my feet, I saw
Jeremy was in his bed, sleeping peacefully. It made me smile.

But before I could analyze that, my bladder came a-knocking. So, I booked
it out of there and made my way down the hall to the other side of the
house where the bathroom was located.

No sooner did I release the floodgates did I hear someone walk in and click
on the light.

It was Jeremy. And he had that deer in the headlights look.

Apparently, he wasn't used to walking in on a dude mid-stream, underwear
around his thighs and his hands on his hips being all, "Look Ma, no hands!"

But there I was doing just that.

"I'll come back," he said before turning the light back off and scurrying
to his room.

It wasn't until I returned to the task at hand did I realize I was at
half-mast with no end in sight.

I looked from my dick to the hall and back again. There was no way I could
pee with a boner lest I get it everywhere and I couldn't exactly traipse
back to his room with this monster hiding in plain sight.

There was only one thing I could do and so I did it. Taking a seat on the
crapper, I took ahold of my favorite toy and went to town -- with both
hands, might I add -- until I sprayed my belly with whatever Jeremy hadn't
collected earlier.

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Chapter Two (As told by Jeremy) coming soon!! Email me if you have any
comments, suggestions and/or ideas of what you would like to see next.