by Vincent Berg
Copyright 2016, Vincent Berg
The next day, Jacob approached just after first period. Taylor turned his back, newly interested in a discussion with his friends. Jacob continued past, not responding like two ships passing in the night, though Taylor noticed his cockeyed grin.
He paused in front of Taylor's locker, took a slip of paper out of his shirt pocket and dropped it in the vent. Done, he turned and caught Taylor watching. He raised his brow, smiled, and walked off.
Taylor was curious, but didn't dare draw attention by checking it out. During the fourth period break, he finally opened his locker to put his books away for lunch. Inside he found Jacob's note resting atop his Physics book. He grabbed it and shoved it deep in his front pocket, crumpling it.
He tried to ignore it, but curiosity ate at him, its presence weighing on his mind. Leaving lunch early, he visited a nearest bathroom, sat on a toilet in the back and retrieved the note.
Thinking of what we didn't say—and do. Call me about meeting at my house. The folks are OK with it and won't say anything.
Jacob's phone number and address were included, though his name didn't appear anywhere. He even decorated it with little hearts, so no one would know it was from another guy.
Taylor was annoyed at Jacob's aggressive style, but couldn't help but grin. Even though their first encounter went badly, he was eager to try again. Despite Jacob's assurances, he was still uncomfortable about Jacob's parents keeping his secret. It was too easy to casually mention it to someone. He shrugged as he stood, shoving the note back in the recesses of his pocket. He'd discuss it with Jacob.
Entering the locker room after school, Taylor remembered he needed to call Jacob to arrange their meeting. Moving to the corner, standing beside some empty lockers, he dialed the number.
Taylor recognized the voice, relieved he didn't get Jacob's parents, which would've forced him to state who he was calling.
"Hey, I'm on to get together later, but I have practice until four. How about if I stop and grab some burgers so we can hang out a little longer?"
"It's not a problem. My folks are fine with boyfriends. They'd love to have you to dinner. We're having spaghetti tonight, which is our favorite."
Taylor turned aside, speaking into the lockers. "I don't think I'm up for meeting the family yet. How about if I eat burgers and you can dine with your parents?"
Jacob sighed. "Look, it's not a big deal. If I ask, they'll never mention you to anyone. They're aware how difficult things can be for the closeted. Hell, I lost a close friend who wasn't ready to come out. He ended up eating his brother's gun." Taylor hesitated, so he asked. "Are you still there? Did your connection die?"
"No, I'm still here, but I'm still wrestling with it. Okay, I'll do it this one time, but don't tell them we're a couple, 'cuz we're not!"
Jacob laughed, speaking excitedly, seemingly missing Taylor's admonition. "Will do, and you'll love my mother's spaghetti and meatballs. You footballers need carbs anyway. I'll tell Mom to cook extra. She'll adore you for eating so much."
"All right, I should be there around four."
Jacob giggled, annoying Taylor. "I'll be waiting. Be sure to wear your superhero mask so no one recognizes you."
Taylor said goodbye, put his phone away and joined his teammates.
Boomer glanced up. "Who's that? Girlfriend?"
"Someone I just met. She goes to another school. I'm not sure it's serious yet."
"Believe me," he said, his voice echoing off the metal lockers, "if she's inviting you to dinner, your relationship is already serious. It means she's ready to sink her claws into you."
"Boomer, ever the romantic," Taylor teased as he yanked his shirt off.
"You can believe what you want, but your days of being free end when you sit down with her folks."
"That's what I'm afraid of. I'll probably need to break up before this goes much further."
"If she's inviting you home, your goose is done cooked," one of their teammates said, echoing Boomer's response. Laughter echoed throughout the enclosed locker room.
Taylor got out of his car, glancing down the street. He felt conflicted parking outside Jacob's house. While his parents did well enough, as they kept reminding him, it was their money and not his. His car wasn't the most impressive, and it stood out in the upscale neighborhood.
Approaching the front door, he tried to surmise as much about the family as he could. It was a quiet block, each house sitting on a quarter acre lot—meaning neighbors observing what you did in your yard. The Morgans' was nicely maintained; the lawn recently mowed, trimming around the driveway and sidewalk. Though late in the season for flowers, they'd planted herbs. While it wasn't overly impressive, the owners took pride in it and it showed.
Swallowing, he rang the doorbell and waited.
It didn't take long. As the door swung open, he met an older but good-looking couple.
"Is ... Jacob home?"
Jacob's mother grasped his arms. "You must be Taylor. We've heard so much about you."
Jacob's father extended his hand. "Don't worry. Jacob explained your fears. We won't say a word to anyone. After all, what parent gabs about their child's sex life?" He made a sweeping gesture to include the whole house. "This is a safe environment."
Taylor resisted reacting, his neck stiffening and his hands balling into fists. Just what he needed, two more people who knew he was gay. They might be supportive, but each person sharing his secrets was an increased risk. All it would take is a single innocuous comment.
"I'm Ruth Morgan. This is my husband, Rudolf." She turned, indicating the couch, as she called out. "Jacob, your friend is here!"
Both were blonds with healthy tans, shoulder length hair and glasses. They looked like a couple since they were so similar. Ruth possessed an infectious smile, and Taylor couldn't prevent contracting it from her. If he had to guess, he suspected they might be Swiss, as their English was a little stilted with an odd accent. He could tell they were Jacob's parents, despite his darker hair. Rudolf was almost as slim as his son and had a way of saying much with only his eyes. Jacob shared his mother's smile and wonderful disposition.
"Nice house," Taylor said, glancing around at the furnishings.
Rudolf shrugged. "We can afford to move to a bigger one, but Jacob grew up here and we have a lot of friends in the neighborhood. This isn't a house; it's our history."
Jacob jogged down the hall, slowing to a stately walk as he entered the living room. He smiled, pleased Taylor was there.
"Glad you made it. I wasn't sure you were going to show up. You sounded spooked."
He shrugged. "I almost didn't. I saw all the houses, each with its own set of prying eyes."
Jacob waved his concern off. "Don't worry, if anyone asks, I'm tutoring you."
Taylor laughed. "In what? I'm making straight As."
"English, dummy. You focus on math and science. Even if you aren't taking any English classes, I've spent more time writing. Tell whoever's curious that I'm editing your college application."
Jacob's comment in front of his parents implied they were a part of a conspiracy and had thought out scenarios which might out him. It was almost scary.
"Can I get either of you a drink?" Ruth asked. "Perhaps a cookie?"
Jacob grinned at the question. "Mom, we're grown men, we can find our own cookies."
"I'd love one, Mrs. Morgan. Did you bake them yourself?"
Her smile grew in radiance. "I did. I'm a bit of a baker."
"She runs a bakery in town," Jacob explained. "We always have fresh day-old cookies and loaves of bread. If you need carbs, this is the place."
Taylor tilted his head. "When I'm bulking up, I tend to favor pasta dishes."
Ruth reentered the living room from the kitchen holding a snowman cookie jar. "Feel free to grab one any time you're here. I bring home more than we consume, so if you don't eat them, we'll only throw them away."
Taylor nibbled at one and smiled. "Say, these are terrific! If I knew you made such delicious cookies, I'd have stolen Jacob's lunches."
"Should I ask?" Rudolf said.
He glanced down, embarrassed by his explanation. "It's nothing. I'm ... a jock. Your son is, how would you say, a bit of a nerd. Normally, we're at opposite sides of the social structure."
"You never gave Jacob a hard time, did you?" Ruth asked.
Taylor blushed. "No, ma'am. We never ran in the same circles. I knew who he was, but ..."
"Then there's no problem. If you want something he has, just ask. It's easy enough to make an extra lunch."
Taylor cocked his head. "You realize Jacob and I are meeting for the first time, face to face. There's no need to adopt me right off the bat. If we don't get along, fixing me lunches might be awkward."
Ruth laughed. "You're cute. All high school romances break up. Some pleasantly as each moves on, others a bit harsher. It's part of growing up and learning about relationships."
Jacob stepped forward as his new interest finished off his cookie. "Mom, Taylor's nervous enough. Don't make it worse. We'll head to my room so I can calm him down."
"That's fine. Dinner will be in about an hour. You're welcome to join us."
"We'll see," Taylor said, backing towards the hallway. "My mother works in an office, so she mostly reheats Costco dinners. However, she likes seeing my face occasionally."
"Consider it. It'll be wonderful having a new face at the table."
Jacob pulled Taylor back and led him to his room, closing the door behind them. He turned and offered a sympathetic frown, but it was too hard to maintain as his mother's mirth leaked through. "Too much?"
"You think? My own parents aren't so friendly! Do they react that way to all your friends?"
"Pretty much, they're quite welcoming. They're especially worried about how I'm ... fitting in. They took my friend's suicide worse than I did."
Taylor cocked his head. "Because he was gay?"
Jacob nodded. "Partially. His family was split over it. His sister supported him, his father wanted him out of the house, and his mother was on the fence. She'd berate him while defending him to his father."
"It sounds like a mess, but let's get a few things straight before we continue. This...," he indicated the two of them with his finger, "is just a hook up. We're not in any kind of relationship. You're NOT my boyfriend. If you say hello in the hallway I'll ignore you. If you talk about us, I call you a liar and beat the shit out of you."
Jacob hit his chest a few times. "Be still my beating heart. How can I resist such beautifully phrased romanticism?"
"Look, it's not that I have anything against you. I just don't want my sexuality exposed."
"No, it's not."
"Huh? What's not?"
"You most definitely have something against me. You don't approve of me. You think I'm a joke!"
Taylor rolled his eyes. "And who's responsible for that? I mean, could your sexuality be any more obvious? Why does the world need to know how gay you are? You ... flamers ... give us normal gays a bad name."
Jacob smiled, cocking his head. "Normal gays? Isn't that an oxymoron? We're nothing like most straights."
Taylor made a motion waving away from himself. "You know what I mean. I look like any hetero guy. It's not apparent I'm gay, and I see no reason to wear rainbows, carry a placard and call attention to myself."
"Let's be straight here." Jacob motioned to himself. "I'm not like this because I choose to be. I never requested the torment I received throughout grade and middle school. Neither of us has any control over who we're attracted to. In the same way, I can't determine how my body functions."
Taylor glared at him. "Okay, let me ask. Did you march in the gay pride parade? When you do, do you dress like a tart with short shorts and no shirt? Do you wave rainbow flags while screaming at the top of your lungs?"
Instead of answering, Jacob took another tack. "That's not fair. I'm not flamboyant by choice. I can't turn it off. It's who I am. Besides, I've got several friends just as flouncy as I who aren't gay. My friend, Kevin? He didn't commit suicide because he was a homosexual. After being accused of being gay his entire life, he felt forced into the role. We were the only community who supported him. But Kevin was hetero. He never got off by thinking of men. He wanted a girlfriend, but no one took him seriously."
"You're saying you can't dress more conservatively? That you can't act like everyone else, or not laugh like a little girl?" Taylor wondered if he wasn't being argumentative as an excuse to put the kibosh on their relationship.
Jacob stood, taking a couple steps toward Taylor, poking him in the chest as he spoke. "The only reasons you have any gay rights is because of flamers like me. I don't know if you studied your history, but it wasn't macho dudes who protested at Stonewall. Everyone who could pass snuck off, hoping to avoid detection. It was 'flamers' like me who stuck around. We couldn't slip away. We've been hassled for being homosexual every day of our lives, and those 'feminine Americans' at Stonewall had enough. They protested and refused to back down. All the closeted gays like you abandoned us like flaming bags of poop on your porches. It was because of flamers like me that you're allowed to be gay now."
"I can't believe I have to say this, but you weren't even alive during Stonewall."
"Hey, I can read. I like history. It's what keeps us from making the same mistakes as our fathers. You weren't here when the dinosaurs lived, yet you can confidently state the Earth is older than five thousand years."
"Don't go challenging my politics. Those age estimates are just that, calculations. We conservatives argue with the reliance on guesstimates being taken as absolutes. Face it, scientists dealing with false assumptions are often wrong, but they refuse to admit they can be."
Jacob leaned his head back, staring at the ceiling. "I should have realized you were a Republican. You understand they don't support us? They've voted, time and again, to limit our rights."
Taylor shook his head. "No, they didn't. It's a state's rights issue. The electorate should be free to give minorities whatever benefits they want. If the citizens don't want gays marrying, they should be allowed to restrict them. That often marks those states as being backwaters. People fighting against public sentiment tend to solidify opinions, while court decisions granting rights alienate people and strengthen the opposition. Eventually, most states will support gays, just as they reject discrimination against blacks."
"Whoa, let's not start attacking each other. You can hold whatever political positions you want. We face enough homophobia. We don't need to add to it by fighting."
Taylor cracked a smile. "Are you getting hot arguing politics?"
Jacob laughed. "It certainly gets the blood pumping. Yes, I am. You are one sexy, bull-headed elephant."
Taylor advanced, standing inches from Jacob staring him down. He grasped the sides of his face and planted a kiss on him.
As soon as their lips touched, an electrical current shot through their bodies. It had been so long since Taylor kissed someone, he almost melted. Keeping up with the argument which triggered the kiss, their tongues wrestled for dominance, only to take turns invading each other's mouth.
Taylor grasped Jacob tightly, appreciating Jacob's sleek muscles. He wasn't extremely masculine, possessing a unisex sexuality. His body would be sexy on either a man or a woman. He was simply strong, healthy and full of life. Some of that life was now pressing into Taylor's lower stomach. In return, Taylor gyrated against it, enjoying the sensations of another man's dick.
For Jacob, it was a paradox. A man standing up for his own opinions, reveling in the presence of a 'take charge' character who won't put up with his shit. He realized they'd never see eye to eye. Still, he felt Taylor's six-pack through their shirts. He had to admit, it felt invigorating being physically dominated merely by someone's presence.
Getting impatient, Taylor broke the kiss and yanked Jacob's top over his head. "I don't think we'll need this." Jacob, for his part, tried to unbutton Taylor's shirt, but growing frustrated, shredded it instead, the buttons scattered like dice in a gambling parlor.
Jacob fell to his knees, eager to see his new 'non-friend' come, and unzipped his jeans.
"Nuh-uh," Taylor said, pulling him back to his feet. "I'm too excited. I don't need any warm up. I'm ready and raring to go."
"You're not too ... enthused, are you? I was planning to remove some of the nervous excitement so you'd last longer."
Taylor stepped back, peeling off his pants. "Are you kidding? I've been beating off like mad since yesterday. You've ... infected my mind like a plague. It's overwhelming all my other thoughts. My head is about to explode. We can take things slow some other time. For now, all I want is you."
Stepping out of his pants, Jacob grinned with a wolfish glare preparing to pounce on his prey. "Let's get you taken care of, and you can take longer getting me off, because I want mine to last." He stopped and cocked his head. "Are you a top or bottom?"
Taylor shrugged. "I don't know, never having tried either, but I like being in charge. I like taking what I want, giving back in proportion to what I get."
Jacob laughed. "Despite being a 'flamer', I'm a topper too. I'm uncomfortable being forced to accept whatever someone else demands. I like being in charge and playing by my own rules." He paused as he retrieved some lube from his bedside table. "However ... nothing says we can't alternate."
Laying on his back, Jacob lifted his legs, exposing himself while facing Taylor. "More than anything else, though, I like seeing my lover's face as he comes. It reveals so much about a person when they're completely exposed."
Taylor gathered the KY on his finger, easing it into his friend's rectum. "I can see you're primed." Rubbing the lube on his own dick, he positioned himself over Jacob. "While you might like peering into people's souls, I prefer keeping you involved. So ..." He resumed kissing him, even as he eased the head of his dick into him. Again, Jacob accepted it easily, so Taylor worked himself in with a series of short thrusts.
"Oh, that's delicious. Keep it up, and you may get me to watch a football game."
"Ha! Like you don't gawk at all the athletes gathered on the field, flexing their muscles."
"Believe what you want, but this is my first time with a jock. I like the unisex look. They're ... softer and more loving."
"As I said," Taylor emphasized, thrusting harder, "this isn't lovemaking. This is fucking, straight forward and intense." He punctuated his assertion with an aggressive kiss, the physicality of the encounter cranking up. Taylor continued pumping as he rubbed against Jacob's cock.
He was impressed by Jacob's dick. He'd almost expected it to be small, but he wielded a decent cock, even bigger than his own. What's more, he'd done this before. Since Taylor didn't know what he was doing, he was glad for an experienced guide to steer him through this maze of delights. Despite what he claimed, he could see repeating this on a frequent basis.
"Uh, Taylor, if you don't ... mind. Keep it down. My parents might ... be accepting ... but I'd rather not ... freak them out."
"Sorry," Taylor said, panting. "I was getting ... carried away." He was almost there. In spite of his one-handed practice sessions, screwing someone else was vastly better than anything he did himself. He was drawing close, sweat dripped off into his eyes. The minor irritation accentuated everything else, pushing him forward. Biting his lip to keep from screaming, he unloaded into Jacob's ass, shoving himself deep and ejaculating.
Once Taylor finished, collapsing against him, Jacob had the nerve to laugh.
"See, what did I say about watching someone come? Your eyes unfocus and you gasp, like a child's favorite toy was yanked away."
Taylor lifted up, grinning himself. "Well, Mr. Know-it-all, let's see what you've got. It feels like an experiment, seeing how manly flamers can be once they're sequestered behind closed doors. If you fuck me well, I might be able to ignore your girlie shrieks."
"You want screams?" Jacob asked as they reversed positions. He didn't have a chance to get off, since Taylor came too rapidly. "I'm not a screamer, but for you, I'll turn it on—just at a low enough volume for my parents." To prove his point, he affected a young girl's tone. "Oh, baby, give it to me. I want it so, so bad!"
"Please don't, I get that enough from the cheerleaders, though a nice squeal at the end would be encouraging."
Unlike Taylor, who was coming off a cold-streak, Jacob took his time. As he lubed himself, he stared in Taylor's eyes, making Taylor think he hadn't heard what he'd suggested. When he pressed himself against Taylor's rectum, it was more like a loving embrace than being impaled. When his dick slid inside, it seemed as if it was entering a new home, taking in everything and deciding what to change.
Jacob began rocking, more than thrusting, Taylor biting his lip. He wasn't trying to get off, instead he was working Taylor's body like a fine violin, pulling richer notes from the strings than a beginner could achieve.
"Ohh, that's delightful," Taylor moaned, his cock showing signs of resurgence.
"Don't worry, it gets better." Jacob kept rocking, rotating his pelvis. He wasn't passive about fucking, instead he was a skilled artisan, playing Taylor's dick like a fine instrument.
For his part, Taylor tried to return the favor, rolling with Jacob's movements and clutching his ass around his cock.
They continued for a surprisingly long time, and Taylor was impressed. This was everything sex with a girl wasn't. He was glad for the experience, but resented that it took a flamer to bring it out.
Taking longer stokes, Jacob built up the intensity. He wasn't rotating as much as sliding in like a warm sausage in a toasty, buttered bun. Taylor's cock was at half strength, and the gentle rocking motions stimulated him. Every time Jacob slid home, Taylor gasped, his eyes rolling back inside his head.
As Jacob made shorter, faster thrusts, Taylor egged him on, wanting his lover to experience what he had. Jacob huffed, gasping and moaning. As strange as it was, and despite the teasing he'd inflicted, his effeminate moans worked their way into Taylor's brain. He found them oddly ... enticing.
"I'm close," Jacob warned. "So near!" He was making full thrusts, shoving himself as deep as possible, moving fast with an experienced technique. He squealed—softly as he'd promised—as he ejaculated inside Taylor. Taylor responded in kind, moaning as he thrust his half-hard cock against Jacob's body.
Jacob thrust and shot off three times, like clockwork, nestling all the way in and relaxing, a beautiful smile radiating across his face. Taylor smiled while shaking his head. His new friend—fuck buddy, he reminded himself—was just like a girl; all giving, hard yet soft, forgiving and offering himself up. He might not like being associated with Jacob, but he could see them spending a lot of time between the sheets.
Feeling sated, Taylor closed his eyes and felt himself slipping into unconsciousness, as if coming home, welcomed and accepted for who he was.
To Be Continued ...
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