BRANDON

     Brandon Stevens was the captain and the quarterback for
my high school football team, and I had been in love with him since 
the eighth grade.  I, too, was a member of the football team, 
playing half back, and I was always around Brandon.  The showers 
were the hardest part, of course, for I was treated daily to the
stark lines of his naked body, the rigid build, the firm, hairless
chest.  
     I guess Brandon was not the kind that you would normally think
of as the quarterback type, since he was not at all burly, really. 
Brandon was successful, three time league most valuable player, by
thinking his way through the game and knowing at all times what his
options were.
     Even though it was more than seven years ago, now, I will
never forget the first time that I made love with Brandon Stevens.
     We had won the game that night, just another stepping stone to
a second league championship.  The whole team went out for pizza (
the coach went with us so we couldn't drink beer ) in celebration,
though it wasn't really all that tough a game.
     Things wound down at the parlor at around midnight, and we
were tired enough that there was no after hours party that night
and we all began to head for home.
     As I was heading toward the door, someone called after me.
     "Kyle, hold on a sec will ya'"
     I looked back and saw Brandon waving to me and jogging to
catch up.  
     "What is it, Brand."
     "Look, my car's broken down and you're going my way more than
Danny is.  Could you give me a ride home?" he asked.
     Didn't have to think about that one, did I?  "Sure, c'mon."
     We sauntered out to my car and got in.  I started up and
pulled out of the drive way.
     "Good game, tonight, Kyle.  You put some nice moves on that
poor defense," Brandon complimented me.
     "Sure, thanks, but that's only because you had them so
confused that a two year old could have made the same yards I did. 
I couldn't believe you out there.  Every time they knew you were
going to pass, you handed off on the option.  Every time they knew
you were going to run it, you tossed it up.  I still can't figure
out how you know when to do that stuff."
     Brandon shrugged.  "I don't either, really," he admitted.
     As we bullshitted, I was thinking about what Brandon had said
to me at the pizza parlor.  It was true that I didn't live far from
Brandon, but, when I thought about it, Danny lived just as close or
closer than I did to the tall, lanky guy.  Hmmmm...
     "Hey," Brandon said suddenly, "I'm not really that tired, are
you?"
     I shrugged non-committally.
     "Let's head out to the backwaters for a while.  Got any beer?"
     I didn't, but we stopped at a Circle K and picked some up. 
The football team was the closest that my home town ever got to the
heroic type, and it was no problem to fenagle a couple of six-packs
from the night clerk.
     The Colorado River is rather large, and it carves numerous
alternate waterways and natural canals along its banks.  We called
them the backwaters, and it was a notorious place for us high
schooler types to go and make out.  Brandon's suggestion to go
there was causing some excitement in my loins, and the closer we
got, the more excited I became, hoping against hope that this would
turn out to be what I thought it was.
     I parked the car about a hundred yards from the bank.  Brandon
and I and the two six-packs got out and we sat on the hood.  I
wasn't much of a beer drinker, but I'd do anything if it meant
getting into Brandon's pants that night.
     We talked a little about ball playing, and school and movies. 
It was casual and trivial, stalling before the real topics came up.
     Girls.  Neither Brandon or I was dating anyone at the time. 
I, because I was a notorious non-dater, and Brandon because he had
just broken up with his lady.
     "I can't believe what a bitch she turned out to be, Kyle.  It
was like I suddenly didn't know who she was."
     I nodded understandingly and tipped my Coors.  "Well, I though
she started acting strange almost a month before you figured it
out, buddy.  And, to be honest, I never liked Karen all that much
in the first place.  How do you like being a free agent?"
     He shrugged.  "It's ok.  I hate not getting any pussy, though. 
I've gotten used to the three or four times a week routine, and now
that its gone, well, I don't like that much."
     "Come on Brandon.  You're a goddamned school hero!  You could
get it ten times a week from ten different girls and you know it!"
     He looked over at me and grinned sheepishly.  "Yeah, I suppose
I could if I wanted to."
     "What's not to want.  You said your self that you miss it
already."
     A strange silence descended over us.  We had finished off the
rest of the six-packs before either of us spoke again.  
     "All of that's a lie, you know," Brandon finally broke the
silence.
     "What is?"
     "All of it.  I never got it three times a week.  And it wasn't
Karen's fault that it's over between us.  It's my fault."
     "I don't understand, Brandon.  What are you saying?"
     "I'm saying that the reason that we broke up was my fault.  I
couldn't get hard with Karen.  Or with Cindy Brek, or with Marsha
Dyllan, or any of the other girls I've dated in the last three
years.  I'm still a virgin 'cause I can't get a hard on."
     I was pretty stunned.  Brand had the reputation of this campus
stud that had made it with every girl he ever laid eyes on.  And,
while I couldn't ever remember Brandon offering testimony to that
line of thinking, I could never remember him refuting it either.
     "So, what is it?  Are you impotent?  Is it a medical problem?"
I asked.
     He shook his head.  "No, I get erections alright.  But
only...only when...shit!... only when I think about other guys."
     There it was.  That was what I had been waiting for for five
years or so.  I almost started to cry, right then and there.  I
tried to say something to Brandon, who was obviously upset at
having spilled the beans, but nothing would come out.
     "I know you weren't expecting this.  I'm sorry," he said,
almost sobbing.  "Leave me here if you want, I'll walk."  He slid
off the hood and moved stiffly away from the car. 
     That broke my spell and I was able to get up and walk slowly
over to him.  "Brandon.  You're right, I wasn't expecting that." 
He was facing away from me.  I stepped up behind him and put one
arm around his slender waist and the other over his shoulder. 
"I'll leave you here if you really want that, but, I'd rather stay
here with you."
     Brandon stiffened at first, but then relaxed, and I felt his
hand slip onto mine with a firm, gentle grip, his head fell back
and he rested it against my shoulder.  He was crying.  I could see
the tears making trails down his cheeks that glistened in the
moonlight.
     "I feel like such a freak!" he said, softly.  "I can't get
used to telling myself that I'm a fag.  I just can't."
     "It's tough in the beginning, Brand," I said from experience. 
"But it gets easier.  Pretty soon you won't be able to believe that
there's anything wrong with it.  I'm gay.  I didn't choose to be
that way, and I can't change it.  I don't want to change it.  For
me, it's right and it's good."
     Brandon shook his head.  "I suppose.  But after all the shit
that ever kid gives every fag, all the stuff you see about them
getting killed for no reason, after all that you thing that fags
are the scum of the earth.  When you realize that you are one,
well, you're fucked aren't you?"
     That I had no answer for.  "Can't help you there, Brand. 
You'll have to see the truth for yourself."
     He turned around in my arms and slid his around my waist.
     "I wasn't lying before, about being a virgin.  I've never done
anything but masturbate," he said looking into my eyes.
     "Well, keeping in line with learning the truth, I think it's
about time you learned the truth about pleasure..."
     With that, I put one hand behind his head and ran my fingers
through this thick, blond hair as we kissed.  It was rather
tentative at first, to be sure, but Brandon had long known what it
was that he wanted, he was just a little behind in the believing
that it was what he wanted.
     Well, he was none too up on experience, either, but soon, as
he became accustomed to his feelings and the desires of his body,
his eagerness and his new found freedom overcame his short comings
by far.
     The night was mild enough that neither of us even thought
about going anywhere.  The moon was out and we could see, and our
blood was running wild in our veins.
     As we kissed, I slid my hand down his back and held the firm
mounds of his buttocks through his tight blue-jeans.  Slowly Brand
began to press himself against me.  I could feel the hardness in
his pants against my lower belly.
     If I'd stopped to think about it, I'd have realized that I was
in the middle of one of my most frequent fantasies.  I guess I
didn't think about it because I was afraid that it was a fantasy,
and that I'd wake up soon and find myself at home in bed with my
hand wrapped around my dick.
     I gently pushed Brand away and began to undress.  Brandon
watched for a moment then followed my lead.  Within minutes we were
standing there, facing each other, butt-naked to the world.
     I wish that I could instill in you my own personal tastes that
you might experience my joy at seeing this young man standing in
front of me, naked and excited.  I can describe him to you, but I
can't make you desire the same kind of body that I desire.  Picture
you're own perfect man, standing in front of you, a little bit
nervous at his first gay experience, but still very excited, hungry
for what you have to offer.  Imagine him at your finger tips,
awaiting your instruction, begging you to get on with it, and
wanting you to hold back for just another minute at the same time.
     This was my position.  Brand was as slender as could be.  The
lines of his body were streamlined and austere.   Each curve led
forcefully into the next, forming a physique that made me shiver
with anticipation.  His shoulders were wide, and a little thin, his
chest firm and hairless, clearly defined, but not bulging.  His
waist was slim and his hips almost nonexistent.  His legs were long
and slender, straight, and his feet were bantam in a manly sort of
way.  His cock, very erect, circumcised, stood out from his lower
belly, straight, and looked like it was just under eight inches
long.  It was framed with a small, trim patch of light colored
pubic hair, and his small testicles were lightly coated with the
same.
     I could have stood there and looked at him forever, I think,
but Brandon didn't look like he was willing to wait that long, for
some strange reason.  He took a step toward me, as if he wasn't
sure that I liked what I saw, a question on his handsome, chiseled
face.
     "Wow," I whispered.  "You're fucking beautiful, Brandon."
     I could just barely see him blush by the light of the full
moon.  "You've seen me naked before..." he accused.    
     "Yeah, but this is a little different, you know?  Context has
a way of changing the way you see things...and in this context,
your fucking beautiful, damn it."  I move do him and slid my hands
onto his smooth chest.  I toyed with his pink nipples, letting each
grow erect under my fingers.  One hand continued caressing his
chest, while the other made its way downward.  
     His stomach was flat and muscular and I tickled his navel as
I journeyed south, over his abdomen, and then I felt the soft area
of hair.  I gently pulled at the hair for a moment before I let my
fingers start to explore his fine cock.  
     It felt like fire in my hand, and it jumped ever few seconds
as I toyed with it tenderly.  Now Brandon began to vocalize the
pleasure that he was feeling.  Granted, it was nothing heavy, but
realize that this kid had only felt his own hand on his tool.  
     I slid slowly to my knees and paid full attention the this
gorgeous guy's loins.  The crown of Brandon's cock was unbelievably
swollen, and a good shade redder than the rest of his shaft.  I
slid my finger along the sensitive underside where the shaft met
with the head and Brandon let out a long moan as the pleasure
jolted through his dick.
     Finally, I couldn't wait any longer.  My mouth was aching to
taste Brandon's stiff dork, and began to appease my desire by
sticking out my tongue and licking...everything.  His flavor was
wonderful, clean and musty.  I tasted his hair, his balls, his
belly button, his cock, even underneath his balls, just short of
his tight asshole.
     I was surprised a little that Brandon was a silent as he was. 
I was used to more experienced guys who let it out with moans,
groans, and some who were heavy into dirty talk.  But Brand was
quiet.  He was obviously enjoying this though, so I wasn't worried,
only curious.
     After the appropriate amount of licking, I took Brandon's cock
head into my mouth and began to suck.  Slowly, by bobbing up and
down, I started to take more and more of his handsome, delicious
cock down my throat.  About three quarters of the way, he began to
his the back of my throat.  I opened up, tucked in, and took the
last two inches quickly, pressing my chin to his balls and my
forehead to his smooth belly.
     Finally Brandon let out a long, loud moan of ecstacy.  "Ohhh,
fuck!  Kyle!  Jesus Christ!!! That's fucking awesome!!"
     I would love replied, and in fact I did.  "UUbffllt!!
uammmngGo ltuulch chhh!!"  I doubted that he understood me, and,
rather than try again to talk around my mouthful of meat, I started
the old up and down motion, drawing his pounding prick in and out
of my mouth, slow, fast, and everything in between.
     I couldn't have been sucking him for more than three or four
minutes when I suddenly realized that he was cumming, and it was
too late to pull off.
     "Ohh, ohh, Kyle, I'm cumming, man, I'm fucking cummmmiinngg!"
     So, I sucked harder, and as he filled my mouth with his thick,
creamy seed, I gulped as fast as I could.  Still, lots of the
sticky stuff found it's way to the outside world via the corners of
my mouth, and soon my chin was pretty well coated with Brandon's
sperm.
     I held his shaft in my mouth for several more minutes as it
continued to leak out his steamy juices.  When I let his dick slip
out I licked up what cum my tongue could reach and drank that too.
     I stood up and took Brandon into my arms, holding his slender,
sated body close to me.
     "Kyle," he whispered in my ear.  "Thank you.  Thank you."
     I, of course, wanted my own blow job that night, but Brandon
could barely stand up, and it was pretty late.  Brandon was polite
enough and interested enough to offer to suck me, but ( don't ask
me why ), I said that I could wait.  It was enough for tonight, and
we'd have time for that later.
     We slowly dressed and got back into the car.  My cock was
still hard as a rock, uncomfortable in my Levi's.  Brandon reached
over and began to message my full bulge and in a few minutes, I
came in my shorts, the taste of my new lover's seed still under my
tongue.
     I dropped Brandon off at his house around three-thirty with a
hug and a kiss good-night.
     Brandon made good his offer to suck me, some nights later, and
we've been together ever since.   And...
     But, all that is another story.
Oh, yeah, our team made league champs that year, and took second at
state.