The Circle

The summer was over, and freshman year was just hours away. My guts boiled at the thought of dealing with the changes and worries of my first year in high school.

Will some bully pick me out for special attention? A bathroom swirly? Or worse? I'm probably bigger than most of the bullies, though, even if I'm not fourteen yet. Ha, maybe I should be the bully. I'm almost big enough, but it ain't me to be one. I'm the one to be bullied. Man, why do people have to be violent?

Swirlies, wedgies, beatings, wearing my lunch, the list seemed endless to me as I ran it through my head, fearing every one would be perpetrated upon me the very first day. Probably by first period, I feared.

I was a smart kid, a quick learner, and had a good memory for whatever I set my mind on. I had been bumped over fifth grade, suddenly becoming the youngest in my sixth grade class, and thusly, the class whipping boy. I would from then on be one of the youngest kids in all of my classes. I would have been among the smallest as well if puberty hadn't kicked in early, but thankfully it had, and I had been nearly average in height the previous year during eighth grade.

At thirteen and entering high school, I was a bookworm, liked Dungeons and Dragons as well as video games, didn't play sports, and got great grades. I wasn't expecting to be very popular, or having many friends. My reddish-brown hair was unruly and preferred to curl loosely rather than be combed. I still wore brown, plastic-framed, beat-me-now glasses.

I had moved only a month previous, and had made one friend. My neighbor, Tom, being almost a year older than me, was showing interest in girls, and was vocal of his interest. I played along, making the comments that I expected he expected, but I was far more interested in him and other guys in general.

The memories of the event of earlier in the summer, before I had moved, that had proved to me that I couldn't trust even a blood-brother with my secret, were fading. I had purposely put those memories behind me, closeting them even more than my sexuality. I had also come to the conclusion that I couldn't hide from life, that I had to have friends, and I had decided that I would make new friends at my new school. I didn't have to tell them that I was gay, I had friends and fun with them until I had revealed that, so I would keep that completely secret at the new high school. I would be one of four-thousand or so.

Since I had learned that straight guys messed around some, I knew I didn't have to tell anyone that I was gay to mess around. My cousin Roger and some of his friends had proved that to me during vacation at his house just after I had moved. I intended to explore and mess around when and if I could, I just had to hide how much I liked it, how much I wanted to do it, and be open and watchful for the opportunities like had occurred with them.

Sleepless with the excitement and dread of the first day of high school, I lay on the bed looking out at the bright, clear sky. The rain of a few minutes ago was already drying in the warm morning, not quite steaming off the streets, making the already uncomfortably humid day even worse. I smiled, thankful for the central air conditioning in the brand new house.

My stomach roiled again, not from hunger, but nerves. No breakfast, I knew, sitting up on the bed. I wasn't horny, which was unusual, and I looked down at my limp dick and it's reddish-brown patch of hair.

Close to being a hot redhead, but not quite, like in everything, I bemoaned.

I sighed again and stood, stretching. After a shower and the usual morning stuff, I dressed in dark blue jeans, a new, black, Styx concert tee, and my good tennies.

Over breakfast, my parents had the pep talk all ready for me on my first day of high school; be nice and you'll make friends, listen to your teachers and you'll learn and succeed, all that stuff. I heard it mostly as a background buzz, responding with automatic phrases. They wished me a good day as they each left for another day at their jobs. When the clock said it was seven-thirty, I headed to the door, met Tom at the sidewalk as we planned, then we walked almost silently to the bus stop on the distant corner.

It would would have been faster to ride my bike, and I could have slept almost an hour longer, I knew; we both knew. I had almost ridden my bike alone, instead of riding the bus with Tom, but then this was easier, just a lot earlier. And pudgy Tom was not going to ride a bike that far unless he had to.

We both shuffled our feet nervously, standing together in near dread. It was hot and humid already, so there was an excuse for the sweat on my face, but I knew it wasn't all caused by the heat. I belched after my stomach roiled again.

Tom and I chatted some, about our classes, about what we thought the teachers would be like, and wondering who would be in the first fight of the year, and if it would be the first day or not. A new school year was always exciting, but this was high school. And we were both riding a bus for the first time.

Today he looked different. I wasn't sure if it was the situation or him. It seemed as if his hair was even more neat and orderly. Almost a Moe Howard, but not as well defined. He was pale as usual, a little heat blush and some sweat on his fourteen year-old, pudgy face. The black tennis shoes, black jeans, and blue button-front, short-sleeve shirt didn't scream nerd, but it didn't scream money, either. So, either way, we were lessers. But then, so would be those on board. The not-lessers were driven. This was the bus.

Suddenly it rolled, hissing and groaning to a stop in front of us, seemingly out of nowhere. The busy traffic on the major road had hidden it, and I hadn't been looking for it, preferring my own inner theater between comments with Tom. The doors opened with a squeal and a bang. The driver, who probably looked older than he was, was balding with red hair and glasses. He looked very much like Bozo's sidekick, Cookie the Clown.

"Come on dude, get on!" Tom said, pushing me through the doors and up the steps.

I hadn't realized that I had hesitated.

The driver held up a hand and asked to see our student I.D. cards. I had been holding it at the stop, knowing I would have to show it to get on the bus. I held it up for him to see. He gave it a quick glance that told me he only wanted to see if we had one, not if we were who it said we were. The large red "42" under the word "Route" was probably all he needed to see.

I turned and saw that the bus was nearly half full.

"Dude! Get a seat, were gonna get tossed around in here!" Tom prodded, prodding me down the aisle from behind as well.

The back seats were completely occupied by the jocks, so I wasn't willing to go that far back. Up front, the total nerds and geeks filled the first few rows. Halfway up the bus were some empty benches, so I headed toward them. As I walked down the aisle, I took glances at the other kids as secretly as I could. I was nearly half the distance to the bench I had chosen when the bus groaned and lurched. Not used to the sensation, I stumbled forward. I grabbed at the back of the nearest bench seat, and the kid sitting there, staring out of the window, suddenly snapped his head around to stare at me.

On the first day of my freshman year at high school, walking onto the bus for the first time, I stumbled and found myself face to face with the most gorgeous guy I had ever seen in person.

When I had stumbled, I had reached for the seatback out of instinct, hitting it hard enough that the guy sitting alone next to the window quickly spun his head around. His thick, straight-yet-wavy, feathered, bowl-cut hair weaved around, swaying across his brow as we locked eyes.

I had never before felt anything like I did then. There was a sudden, almost electrical shock that seemed to paralyze me. I could almost sense a sparkling haze around the two of us, locking my muscles into position. My body tensed, my breath stopped, and my heart hammered. My palms tingled then itched terribly. I instantly began to sweat even harder, all over.

I had once previously felt something similar, but not as incredibly powerfully. That hadn't been so sudden, either. This was out of the blue, and struck like a falling anvil.

His bright eyes were a shocking blue, and they held me prisoner. They were beautiful, and strange, and wonderful. But also, somehow, familiar. Their color was between light sky-blue and blue ice. The dark of his pupils drew me into them. I felt as if I knew him, yet he was a complete stranger, too. The light lashes around those eyes seemed as tall as trees suddenly; they swayed over me, reaching majestic heights. His lips, full and soft, lusciously curved, were dark red and parted in shock or surprise. His gentle, soft face seemed frightened.

I didn't know what to say. There were no words I knew.

Tom pushed me from behind, shoving me down the aisle of the accelerating bus. I stumbled my way to the empty seat and fell into it, sliding easily to the window.

"What's the deal?" Tom asked. "You gettin' motion sickness or something?" he continued with a laugh.

"Huh? Nuttin'," I lied, immediately knowing that I looked guilty.

Oh, shit! I thought, First day of high school, first minute on the bus, and my faggy ass falls in love? I'm not about to tell my best bud I thought I just I fell in love at first sight! And with a guy! But such a guy! I guess it's love. Or something! It's sure not just like! Lust? Oh man, do I want him!

 I found myself wondering what the blond kid was built like beneath his clothes, and what he looked like naked. I imagined his shapes and sizes, and what I would like to do it in bed. When I caught myself, I admonished myself for thinking such faggy thoughts. I knew he would probably have light blond body hair, like I thought was so sexy. Then I hoped he was in my gym class with all the will I possessed. Then I wished that he wasn't, because if he was, I was going to be hard as a rock if I saw him naked, and I knew it.

Oh shit! I thought as I remembered what lay ahead. My first day in gym class! Showers! Hell! Can't be any different from junior high, can it? I mean, two years of showers and changing in junior high, about the same right? More guys is all. Oooo, more guys! New guys! Older guys! So many guys! There had been two grades in junior high, and almost two hundred guys in each class. Now it was just about one-thousand students per class, with two classes at each of two campuses. That meant one-thousand guys at each campus.

And I fell for the first one I saw up close, I thought, taking a glance at his bright blond hair. He seemed to be looking out of the window again.

I wonder what the chances are he's gay? Or anybody on this bus right now? I wonder how many guys on this bus want to suck cock like I do? I wondered. Or even have? Oh, my god! I'm becoming such a fucking fag! Why? I can't let Tom know, I thought, and returned my attention to my buddy sitting next to me, shoving the overwhelming sexual thoughts deep down where they were well hidden.

We chatted as the bus made the rest of its pickups, then eventually arrived at school. As we stopped in front of the building, my stomach dropped; not just in fear or loathing of being bullied, but in melancholy remembrances too. It struck me how much my life had changed over the summer.

I had fallen more and more for my best friend, my blood-brother, and eventually I had revealed too much. He and his friends found out, and I was ruined. Thankfully, I had moved less than a week later. I had managed to force myself to forget him and what had happened, and to try to find new friends. I spent a few days at my cousin's house in rural Indiana and had smoked pot for the first times. And dicks. When I returned to my new home, Tom moved in next door, and we become good friends. I met and became friends with Eric.

Changes, I bemoaned, looking out at the huge building and the incredible number of kids visible. Tom and I had compared class schedules the first day we had received them in the mail. We would have not a single class together. Lunch was the only time through the day we would see each other, if we didn't in passing in the halls of the sprawling complex.

Tom stood up and waited for an opening to step into the aisle. I took a brief glance at his ass as I still sat, hid a smile, then stood and watched the other kids as slyly as I could as they headed down the aisle. Once on the pavement, my eyes soaked in the sight of the blond kid from behind as he headed toward the school alone.

Yep, nice ass back there, I caught myself thinking. Then I thought with anger, I'm such a fag!

I had been there for orientation with Tom, filling out our paperwork and getting our identification cards, and had walked around finding our classrooms, assigned hall lockers, and putting the locks on them that the orientation letter had said to bring. The building was enormous! It sprawled over four city blocks. Several wings shot out from the seemingly main entrance, only to link up via random seeming hallways with each other on the other side of the central quad. There were few right-angle corners, and hallways met at odd angles. Most of the classrooms were square, but many had odd shapes to fit the unusual angles of the hallways.

I went from class to class, not knowing anyone, but trying to smile when I could, and seemingly as normal as anyone.

At lunch, the cafeteria was a huge, multi-walled area, sub-dividable by moveable, cloth-covered wall partitions. It was filled with more kids than I had ever seen before at one time. The idea of an all-school assembly nearly seemed frightening. Hundreds of students were talking, laughing and eating. The lunch menu was much better than middle school. There was even pizza available all the time, fountain soda, ice creams, and other stuff I had heard but not really believed were available.

Tom and I found an empty table, and we sat having lunch, trying not to be noticed. It seemingly worked. A few other pairs of friends, or guys alone, took some of the other seats. Holding myself to my promise to myself, I nodded and grinned at anyone who didn't look as if they would attack me for doing so. Several of the other guys who sat down at the table ended up talking to us.

Fifth period P.E. wasn't as bad as it could have been, either. We had to pick gym shorts and shirts and try them on in the locker room after getting our locker assignments. I cursed at a school that assigned all your lockers.

Changing was as embarrassing as it had been the very first time in junior high. There was such a wide variety of guys changing around me, that I couldn't keep the comparison with a buffet from rising again and again as I dressed quickly and headed out to the gym. Once approved by the teacher for fit, I was given another pair of shorts and shirts of the same sizes and told to change back into my street clothes. I roamed the gym then, slyle admiring the legs and bodies of the many guys still being checked.

The next classes were unremarkable, and the last class, English Composition, was one I had looked forward to until I met the teacher. She was a bun-wearing, bespectacled, floral dress-wearing, droning old crone. I had hoped to enjoy the class, but it was clear from the first day that she was only interested in enforcing the hard and fast rules and the study of the stale classics.

After the first day was finally over, I got the things I needed from my locker and headed outside. I was hoping I would see the blond guy from the bus while we waited, and maybe even get a chance to talk to him for a while. Our bus didn't leave until four-fifteen, almost an hour away. I intended to continue with my intentions to be open and friendly and make as many friends as I could, and I was looking forward to making a friend of him, but I was worried if I would have the courage to talk to someone so attractive.

Out by the bus stop area there was no one familiar. There were hundreds kids milling about in all directions outside the school, and finding anyone was unlikely.

I sat down against the brick wall a few feet from the doors and decided to wait and watch the others, and maybe someone would walk by I knew. At the least there were the views of them all to take in.

The range of guys was astounding. One guy stood out from the rest. I saw his red hair first, from behind, and I thought it might be Eric, but I knew he was in eighth grade, still at the junior high. This guy was taller, too. I watched for a long time, admiring the slim figure from behind. I knew I liked redheads a lot, and seeing some at school was interesting to say the least, but one that might be around to be admired everyday after classes was very welcome.

Man, he's got a nice ass, and nice shape. I'd love to go over there and tap his shoulder, have him turn around, and reach out and grope him real good and see what was in the front between those nice legs. Stop it! Someone could catch you!

I tried to change track and think of something nice and normal, as non-gay as I could come up with. It was only moments before I was again thinking of the kid on the bus, the one with the great hair and the incredible eyes.

I am being so gay! Why am I such a fag? What's with that? Why don't I dig chicks, like Tom and everybody else? Why the fuck did I like doing that stuff with the guys over summer? And why do I like sucking dicks? Fuck. And I'd give anything if I could do some of that with the blond guy on the bus. He's fucking hot! I really like him, don't I? I like guys. I'm a fag. Why?

Tom thumped down next to me with a groan and the words, "So, how go'd it?"

"Okay, I guess. No swirly or wedgies, anyway," I said, smiling at him.

"No shit! I got chased by Todd Warwick, but he gave up. Probably have to tomorrow, too, I guess."

We shook our heads and waited, chatting about our classes, teachers, and classmates. We bitched about how we arrived too early in the morning and had to wait too long for our bus home. We knew that if we had biked, that we would have been home before our bus even arrived at the school to pick us up. I knew it anyway, but I rarely pointed it out. Tom was not the type to bike that distance.

When our bus pulled up, we slowly got up and gave the first kids plenty of room to get on before we did. I searched around the area, even standing on tip-toes, looking for the adorable blond guy. I hoped he wasn't about to miss the bus!

I had to play it cool as I got on the bus, but I looked frantically around for him. I didn't know him, or even know his name or what grade he was in, but I was intensely worried that he would miss the bus. The various scenarios of how he could possibly make the miles long trip to wherever he lived out past where Tom and I lived played though my head. I felt worried about him.

I took a seat at about where Tom and I had sat that morning and waited impatiently, my leg bouncing on my foot. My watch said we had less than five minutes before the bus left. As soon as I could, I asked as nonchalantly as possible about the kid I had almost fallen onto.

"Oh? Jeff? Yeah, he's in my home ec. Just moved here. Seems okay. He recognized me and was sort of staying away from me like I was after him," he laughed.

The idea that the adorable guy thought we were bullies, and was probably scared of us - me - seemed to hurt; I hated that I could have made such an impression on anyone, especially not on someone so cute.

What the hell? He's just some guy! Maybe he's cuter, but what do I care if he don't like me?

After only moments of thought, my own answer was obvious.

Shit, hell yes I fucking care! Damn, he's so cute. And even if he wasn't so cute, I don't like someone thinking I'm an ass, or a bully. But especially not someone so fucking cute. Oh, God, stop it!

"Quiet. Didn't talk to anyone. If the teacher hadn't done the usual state your name crap, I wouldn't know shit about him."

Suddenly he was running out of the doors toward the bus. He had too many books and no bag, and it looked like he was running as fast he could. His hair weaved a halo around his face, the sun making it seem to glow. He ran with his chest a bit forward, his arms cradling his load of books. I watched without seeming to as he got on, searched for a place to sit, and ended up where he had been that morning.

He kept his eyes downward, and wore a small frown.

"He looks lonely, and sad," I said.

"He might be. I got that feeling, too. Ya know what?" Tom asked, putting his book bag on the bench between us. "Be right back," he said as he stood up, surprising me.

He sat down next to the kid and they talked. I felt horribly exposed and worried. Even jealous that Tom could do what I couldn't. What Tom was doing was obvious in no time when the two of them stood up and walked toward me. I went into panic mode immediately. I felt more sweat suddenly break out on my forehead and under my arms. My body felt as if it was being gently electrocuted. Tom sat back down next to me, the new kid took the empty bench ahead of us.

"Alex, this is Jeff. Jeff, my buddy Alex." Tom said, pointing to us in turn.

"Hi," Jeff said, waving briefly, a small smile on his face that seemed to bleed away into nothingness immediately.

As I saw him up close for the second time, face to face, I felt my heart stutter again. Full, red, soft-looking lips stood out clearly against the smooth, light skin of his gentle, round face. The straight, light blond hair on his head matched his eyebrows, which were almost invisible above those cornflower-blue eyes that were surrounded by thick, light eyelashes. He was adorable. 

 I said, "Hi," back, trying to be normal.

Looking at him as he talked, I noticed first that he wore braces, and that his voice was smooth, light, and he rounded his vowels just a tiny bit. I liked it all. He had the fullest lips, like red lusciousness defined. They stood out against his fair complexion and framed his white teeth and braces nicely. I loved his accent. It made me think of somewhere far out west and north. It was smooth and gentle, like his hair, his voice, his face.

His yellow hair was thick, straight, and full, in a tapered bowl-cut that was longer than most. It was cut so that the thickness of it was emphasized; the only thing that I could compare that too was the shape of Tweaky's head from the Buck Rogers series with Gil Gerrard. It was mostly smoothly in place, only slightly ruffled from his run to the bus. His intensely bright blue eyes were stunning.

His eyes! They continually drew my own to them. It was as if they magnetically drew my own eyes to them. No, more as if something behind them pulled something inside me toward and down into them. I tingled all over just looking at him, and having him so close almost seemed to fill me with electricity.

We talked and became three friends by the time our stop came up. Tom and I said bye to our new friend as we got off the bus, and when I looked back as the bus started away, Jeff nodded, smiling widely, and waved at us through the window. I waved back, also smiling, and feeling like the entire world was on my side.

"Tom, that was cool of you, going over and asking him to come over," I said to my best buddy.

The anger at him had been washed away the second that I had started talking to Jeff, and the worry and embarrassment had worn off. It was as if I had known him before, or as if I had never been nervous around new people.

"Well, like you said, he looked lonely, and sad, and, well, why not?" Tom asked, pushing his glasses up his nose again. "This way he don't think we're assholes and you were fuckin' with him."

"Yeah, about that. What did you say to him to get him to come over? He was probably scared I was trying to be his bully or something."

"Nah," Tom laughed. "I told him how you're so clumsy and just fell was all. Then I said you kind of felt bad about it and didn't want him to think you was being all shitty to him and to come over and talk to us."

"I didn't know you had the balls!" I said, laughing.

He turned red and laughed, and we raced to my house.

We had started masturbating together several days ago, and that day after the first day of freshman year, Tom and I raced upstairs to my room, intending to repeat it, and instead, surpassed it.

A couple of weeks ago I had told him about what I had done over the summer, and he had seemed interested, and best of all, hadn't made fun of me at all. When I had made the suggestion to jack off to a magazine, he had been willing. After, he had smiled and laughed, and said we should do that again. I couldn't wait. It was the next day. And the next, and that night. And so on for two weeks now.

I filled the bowl that my cousin had given me just two weeks previously to all of that, and Tom pulled out the magazines. Within half an hour, we were at the sink in my bathroom. We stood side by side, our pants and shorts shoved down to our ankles, a Playboy between us.

As we jacked ourselves off, I pretended to look at the magazine, but I more often looked beyond and below it to see Tom's hand pumping his cock. Tom jacked his cock quickly and violently. I stroked my own cock slowly, often softly, not only because I enjoyed it more that way, but to not cum too soon before Tom.

My mind called up the image of Jeff, wondering how much hair he had, or if just fuzz, or even still bare. It was hard to imagine Tom's dark black pubic hairs as being Jeff's, but I still tried. I found thinking of Jeff sexually was very exciting.

Tom was a quiet jacker, hardly making a noise with his mouth. He tended to pant a bit toward the end, and his breath would catch, making chopping sounds as he came. I could be completely silent if I wished, but rarely was. I wanted to make a few noises as I jacked next to Tom, so I made a few soft moans.

Even before Tom and I had first jacked ourselves off together, I had wanted to do so much more with him. That afternoon I finally took the plunge and committed to the plan I had formed to talk him into something more. My cousin and his best friend had talked me into jacking off with them using the same arguments I was intending to use with Tom, but I had been easy to talk into it, already thinking those kinds of thoughts.

"Tom, wait," I said, stopping my own motions.

"Huh?" Tom asked, hardly slowing and never looking away from the chick on the page.

"I want to show you something," I said, "Something I think you'll like."

I was going to do it. I was surprising myself. I had planned to try someday, but I found myself driven to do it then. I was trembling inside, and not only from the excitement of jacking off with Tom.

"What?" he asked, now curious enough to look at me.

"I want to show you how it is when someone else does it for you,"

My mouth went numb. My lips felt like wax. My heart was beating quickly against my chest.

"You serious?"

He turned his face toward me.

I nodded, unable to say the words I had long ago prepared and felt the best to use.

"I told ya about what Roger and me did, right? Well, I, uh, didn't tell ya, uh, well, he kinda showed me what it was like when somebody else did it for ya. Man! It was terrific! Honest! I, I just wanna show you how great it is. That's all."

"Uh, okay."

"Really?"

I was stunned. I had prepared to defend the idea to him. I was ready to convince him it was only a hand-job between friends, and that it would be the best feeling he had ever had. I was ready with statistics and convincing scientific data about males experimenting with sex, carefully avoiding the 'H' word.

"Sure, man. Just, you know . . . just, between us. Nobody ever knows, right?"

I nodded.

I reached out toward him with my right hand, my heart hammering in my chest. He dropped his hand holding the magazine, letting it hang loosely at his side between us. I could see that his cock was bouncing with his pulse. It jumped upward every second or so. I slyly slid my hand down his round, soft tummy, as if it was just the way you did it, and into his bush. His black hair there was filling into a triangle from a mere stubbly, straggly ring. He had no treasure trail, and only faint hair on his thighs around his groin.

I grasped his cock for the first time, and felt Tom's body heat throbbing through it. With each beat of his heart his cock swelled and ebbed. He inhaled deeply as my fingers closed around it. His cock was over four inches, but not by much. It was rugged seeming, bumpy and irregular from the many veins visible on it. His wide head was mushroom-shaped, boldly curved, and very squat. It all matched his hands' and fingers' shapes and sizes, coinciding with the rest of the popular data I knew well by then.

That first touch of his warm dick sent thrills through me that dwarfed the ones I had felt while messing around with my cousin and his friends over the summer. The tingling and waves of electricity during those first experiments with the older boys had been incredible, but wrapping my fingers around Tom's erection was vastly more intense.

I tightened my grip and began sliding his skin up and down his cock. To my surprise and joy, Tom threw the magazine onto the back of the toilet, grabbed my cock, and began to jack me off.

I was about one year younger than Tom, barely thirteen, but just as developed as him. I had started puberty early, so we both had more hair than the straggly circle at the base of our dicks, like half of the freshman in my gym class. My own reddish-brown pubic hair looked like less than Tom's dark black hair, but was the same thickness and length, and covered about the same area. My dick was about the same four and a half inches as Tom's, but slightly thicker, very much smoother, and my head far less prominent.

Using our full fists left us very little room to move up and down on each others barely four inches. Both of us used a thumb and several fingers to work on each other, moving the skin over the hard core beneath in rapid movements.

We both snickered and giggled. It was a bit awkward, but we found more comfortable ways to manage it shortly. In minutes we seemed to have done it a hundred times before.

Inside, I was over-saturated with arousal. I had not thought it would happen so soon, or so easily. I had known it would feel great, better than masturbating alone at any rate, and by far, but the charges of thrilling chills that ran though me were incredibly new, vibrant, and powerful. This was Tom, and I had wanted to do this  with him for weeks. I had jacked off and sucked several guys before, but not someone I had been attracted to before-hand, or been thinking about that way prior to doing anything with them. And it was Tom.

I knew that I wasn't going to last long, so I sped up and tightened up on Tom. I had never seen him use his thumb on the tip of his cock like my cousin had shown me, so I did so. I closed my palm and fingers over his dick and stroked it, using my bent thumb to tap on the hole in the tip with each stroke. That first touch caused Tom to jerk a bit, squeal a, "Ah!" once, and shiver. Each time I hit the tip of his cock he jerked and his cock jumped.

"Oh my gawd!"

"Like that?" I asked, completely unnecessarily.

He nodded vigorously. Knowing how great it felt, and feeling great myself for making Tom feel so good, I rocketed toward orgasm. Waves in my legs and back and shoulders met in my gut, causing pressure under my balls to swell. I was closing in, the tip of my cock beginning to tingle. I jerked Tom as fast as I could, as fast as he did it to himself, and rubbed the tip of his cock with each jack. His pre-cum was lubricating it and my thumb a great deal, so I let my thumb strike and slide over it with each pump of my hand.

Tom shuddered a bit, nodded repeatedly, and moaned, "Yes, cumming," over and over, a bit louder each time.

His cock grew hotter, harder, swelled ever further, and when I thought it might be damaged by any further influx of blood, Tom gasped deeply, shuddered, and exploded. His cum sprayed out of him as it had only done that first time we had jacked ourselves off together. It showered the far side of my sink with little white droplets. Tom shuddered again, and his cock seemed to get even wider as more thin cum sprayed across the sink and landed beside the tap. He gasped and moaned as his cock fired another, but smaller spray of cum which landed in the center of the sink. His cock twitched again as he curled over the sink, forgetting my cock. His cum squirted out, but clung to his cock and hung over the sink in the first sticky strand I had seen from Tom. As I jacked him it swung upward and was pulled into my fingers and Tom's cock. Another small streamer swung shortly before flipping into the sink. More cum oozed out of Tom onto the edge of the sink as I jacked his throbbing cock and ran my thumb over his opening again until he pulled my hand from it.

I felt his body against mine, shuddering and warm. His breaths were fast, but slowing. I noticed that I had cum. My cock was softening and sticky. Several thin lines and few small drops of cum lay along my side of the sink, obviously mine. I didn't remember cumming at all. I felt like I had, as if I had enjoyed a good cum, even my breath was fast and ragged. I noticed my balls had that post-orgasm feeling, and there was no doubt that my cock had just performed.

I shook my head in amazement at not noticing an orgasm.

"Alex, man, fucking-a, man."

"I know."

And I did. Tom had just been gotten off by someone else for the first time. I knew how different, more powerful and intense it was compared to doing it yourself.

We cleaned up in silence, other than giggles, and went to watch television. We were mostly silent, and oddly so, myself feeling a bit embarrassed and completely unsure how to act. It was a while before Tom spoke.

"Uh, Alex, is it okay if we do it that way next time?"

Okay? I thought with glee. Okay? Hell yes! I screamed inside, thrills running rampant.

I played it cool and said, "Sure, anytime."

"It was really good!" he said, grinning widely and blushing a bit.

I didn't want to tell him how much I liked it, but I did want to, too. I knew not to.

"It is better than doing it yourself. Like I said. I wouldn't of showed ya if not."

"Cool."

We returned to the television, talking normally and just being friends. I wanted so much more from him, but I wasn't sure what it was. I was happy to have what I did with him.

It wasn't long before I found myself thinking of Jeff. I hoped that I could call Jeff a friend. I was thirteen, but I knew not everyone could end up friends. I could hope, and do what I could to try to get that to happen; and I intended to do just that. After the first day of high school, I was sure that I very much wanted Jeff in my life.

I was becoming more and more sure that I was gay.

*****

The next day on the bus, Jeff was in the same seat as we climbed aboard and took ours. I was thrilled when I saw that. We talked and found out that we all liked horror and fantasy flicks, having seen many of the same movies over the summer. We compared notes on Alien, which I demanded was the best movie of all time, eclipsing even Star Wars of over two years before. Tom and Jeff were furious. Mad Max, The Black Hole, and Prophecy got thumbs up all around, though I was more enthusiastic over Prophecy than they.

We liked the same kind of comedies too. We began quoting Blazing Saddles, Young Frankenstien, and other movies. We all read the same kinds of books as well, but Jeff had never played Dungeons and Dragons, and didn't want to, and didn't seem interested in fantasy or science-fiction books.

We all found the fact that they both had younger brothers named Todd bizarre, and spoke about them for a while. Jeff's Todd was much older, ten, while Tom's brother was six. Both seemed to be identically pesky. I was a bit jealous that they shared that together, and that I had no hope of such a close tie.

My second day at high school went fine. Some of the other guys at the lunch table talked to Tom and I even more, and it seemed that most of them were going to be friends. Even gym wasn't too bad. We had to shower even though all we did was get dressed, play with the balls the coaches passed out, or other mundane junk between picking sports and activities for the year.

In the showers, I found that that many naked guys made the nudity almost nothing. Nothing, except it was a hundred naked guys ranging from prepubescent boredom to developed handsomeness. I managed to not get hard, didn't get caught staring, and enjoyed the show more than I was worried.

I looked forward to four years of it until I slipped as I walked back to my locker. I was stunned to find someone holding out his hand to me to help me up. I took it, trying not to stare at the large, prominent dick hanging so close by. He was good looking, obviously a sophomore and a jock, and talked to me as we went back to our lockers. He used one just down the aisle from me, and I had noticed him as we had changed earlier. He was tall and lean, a bit muscular, with dark hair, lots of it on his legs and chest. His groin was a mass of dark hair, and his long dick hung down, the head lower than his balls, which hung well too, and were covered in his dark hair. It was strange to have someone be so friendly in the locker room and showers, and I briefly wondered if he was gay, and somehow could tell that I was. I pushed those thoughts away, doubting them profoundly, and changed back into my street clothes in silence, studying the inside of my locker.

*****

On the third day of school, I asked Jeff if he could come over and spend the night at my house on Friday along with Tom and Eric. Jeff was unsure if his mother would let him. He said he would talk to her about it, not mentioning the Dungeons and Dragons of course, and would let us know tomorrow. Jeff still didn't know that Tom and I smoked pot, and it was obvious that he didn't, and probably would never be interested.

In that short time, the three of us became good friends. Jeff lived across town, and it was a long, almost impossible bike ride either way, so the only visitations we could get was on weekends, if we could get a ride. He lived with his mother and brother, his dad usually away working. His dad was a business consultant, and while he made good money, he did it by flying around the country from business to business. He often spent months at each location, sometimes with as little time between as it took to get to the next job. It had been almost six months since he had been home for two days around Todd's birthday.

The next day on the bus, Thursday, Jeff was beaming as we climbed aboard, and couldn't wait to announce that his mom had said it was okay if she could meet my parents first.

Once home, I explained to my parents that I had a new friend, and that I wanted him to stay over on Friday, but that his mom wanted to meet them first. After another day of arranging things, Jeff's mom was coming over for dinner next Friday night with her sons.

The first Friday of my freshman year was still a landmark day, without Jeff. Tom and I got off the bus after saying bye to Jeff, and raced to my house. We smoked a bowl, got out the magazines, and jerked each other off into my bathroom sink. Then we watched television and smoked another bowl, waiting for Eric. When he arrived, we smoked another bowl, listened to music, laughed, and had a great time. They even liked it when I played the synthesizer to some of the songs I knew as we all sang. The three of us got along great. We stayed up late, getting high and watching late night horror shows on channel thirty-two. Tom fell asleep during "The Brain Eaters," which was truly an awful movie.

Eric and I went up to the third floor, where the attic was finished but empty, and smoked more grass. That late at night I didn't like smoking it in my room and hanging our the window there, as it was too easy to be caught. The coughs and laughs could also be a problem with my parents' room just fifteen feet away. He talked about turning that attic into my own bedroom. I thought he was crazy, but the idea was tempting.

He was leaning over, looking out the window at the Chicago skyline, and I suddenly wanted to get him naked. He was in eighth grade, barely thirteen, and I wondered if he had started to get hair down there, or if he had discovered sex with himself yet. My dick hardened immediately and I felt a rush of sexual thrill run through me.

I liked redheads, I knew, and I thought Eric was cute, of course. It had been hard to talk to him that first day without wondering what he would be like naked, especially when he got older and started to become really interesting. I wondered if he would even still be friends with me by then. I tried not to dwell on such bad thoughts and we had a pretty good time.

We talked about girls, and sex, and cars. He was funny to talk about sex and girls with, because he got so excited. It was easy to tell that he got hard, and he didn't try to hide it, either. He would adjust it and grab it while he talked and laughed. I could even see it when his hand wasn't in the way. It didn't look very big, but he was hardly old enough to be very big. He certainly got hard, though. And clearly liked it being hard.

After the joint, we went back downstairs and we began to doze off. He had no problem joining the rest of the guys in sleep, but I couldn't, and was trying not to sneak into the bathroom and jerk off. I heard the station wagon go by and heard Jon pull into his driveway. I managed to open the window, lean out, and catch his attention. He waved back and seemed to hesitate, then surprisingly, headed toward my house. I didn't expect him to come over on a Saturday night, he usually hung out with a couple of guys in his grade and drove around, then crashed.

I jogged downstairs with a gift and let him in, holding a joint.

"Dude, I could really use that right now," he said with a wide grin.

"Garage? Or take it for later?"

"Cool. Nah, don't want to take it home," he answered, gesturing toward the garage.

Within a minute we were in the garage and puffing away. We leaned against the workbench where the water heater and furnace were in the corner. It was warm and still, and we could sit on the bench if we chose. Jon did.

"You're usually gone for another couple hours. Boring night with the guys?"

"Nah. Went out with Cassy Hendericks."

He grinned a little mischievously, which lit my curiosity. I returned his grin and said, "And . . . ?" before I hit the joint.

He toyed for the time it took to hit the joint, then said, "No, she didn't put out. All I got was some tit."

I shrugged and laughed.

"Gonna beat the hell out of it when I get home," he added with another grin.

I laughed.

"Just wish she would'a at least gave me a hand-job. I mean, she played with it enough! Fuck."

"Got real familiar with it, huh?"

More snickers, and he nodded and got a little red. It only added to his Irish cuteness. He was sixteen, and tall, and lean. Dark brown hair and long face, dark eyes. And gold wire-rim glasses, smallish round lenses. Wearing deep blue jeans, an oversized teal button-front shirt, and black sneakers, he was really cute. Just a little dorky.  Bordering on hot.

He adjusted it. He was sitting on the workbench, I was standing, leaning against it, close enough to pass the doobie. Jon wasn't really long, but he was sixteen, and tall and lanky. And he seemed rather long as I caught a glimpse in the low, single overhead bulb. He rubbed it a bit and inhaled deeply before exhaling just as largely.

"A good buzz'll help enjoy it more," I said, knowing it to be so.

He nodded happily and said, "Thanks, too, by the way," as he gestured with the joint.

"Not a problem, Jon. Glad to help out."

I suddenly thought of helping out more. Yes, it did take me that long. Maybe I was tired, or really stoned, or caught unawares. But right then, the gears started turning.

The fairly newly-formed argument that guys messed around was prepared. One in ten did something with another male friend by college. Most of them by high school. It didn't mean they were gay at all. Straight guys experimented. One in ten more than once. It was normal.

I was only lacking the guts to get things going that way conversationally.

"You ever done it with anybody?" he asked me.

Uh-oh. I'd only known Jon and Tom for a month at this point, and my history was almost completely private. I'd told Tom more than I wanted to, but not as much as I was afraid I might reveal. No one else had asked. Until now.

I liked Jon, and I'd seen how he and his brother kept their words to each other, especially when it was important, and not somehow a prank or joke to break one. I was positive that Tom hadn't let on anything about what he and I had started doing. Positive.

So, how much do I tell Jon? I got to say yes. Will he believe it?

I nodded.

"More than you might think."

I gave him a solemn stare. He blinked and asked, "Just how much?"

"Got a blow-job first time when I was twelve from this older chick at the lake over summer vacation. Got some hand-jobs later from others that summer. Got blown a lot, honest, just before school started last month down at my cousin's."

"Your cousin?" he had to ask, and laugh.

"No, Ho-ho. His, uh, couple of his friends."

"Billy-Bob and Roy-Bob?" he laughed.

I rolled my eyes and grinned.

"No."

"You really been that around?"

"Uh, ya," with a firm nod.

"Prove it."

My guts shook, and I wondered just how to.

"My favorite is when they suck in waves just as I cum, and it gets in time with me and they swallow that way. Fucking rocks."

I started describing the things my cousin's friends had shown me. I went into details. I kept the fact that, "they" were guys out of it. He was staring open-mouthed by the time I got to a finger up the butt during orgasm.

"Okay! You can't have read all that. Fuckin'-a."

I didn't miss that he had adjusted himself several times by then. The joint had become a roach and was put away. I was shivering inside, pushing myself to see how much experimenting Jon would be willing to do. He talked a big talk in the group, but would he live up to it?

I thought a big thought in my head, but would I live up to it?

He laughed and nodded, having to push his glasses back up. We were both red.

"So, you know how it's better when it's someone else, right? Not yourself?"

"Hell yeah, dude. Doin' it yourself is boring after someone's done it for ya. Uh . . ."

I waited while he thought about something, trying to make sure that I was hearing and understanding him right.

He furrowed his brows and looked worried for a second, then stared at me intently as he said, "You're great with secrets, aren't you?"

I blinked and nodded before I could think.

His expression stayed serious as he said, "Uh, went to Riverside Summer Camp two years in a row. Dude," he laughed and got redder, "I never got so much action! I ain't gay, or nothin', but, I did stuff I still ain't done with a chick. And I'm no stud, but I've got pussy from four chicks, head from two of them, and head from two others, and handys from almost all them, and a couple others."

I goggled, and it obviously showed. He laughed and got redder.

"Uh, it was fun, dude." He nodded and grinned, then looked away. "Every night, after the first one or two, all summer. Sometimes same guy for a while, sometimes a few different guys. Did everything. Everything."

He nodded repeatedly.

I tried to remember to breathe. I felt humbled. And overjoyed.

"Not gay, but, I did it all, and liked it. Like girls more, never fell for no guy like I can for a chick. But the sex is awesome!"

I knew I was smiling, and I knew I couldn't stop.

"You ever? With a guy?"

I cleared my throat. Inhaled, and nodded. Then exhaled. Grinned.

"You wanna?"

I snickered. Involuntarily, my eyes snapped to his groin. Back right away, but too late. And I knew it.

He leaned over the space between us on the bench and then downward, and reached out with his hand, a little slowly, and checked out my erection. Which began to dance as he tickled the right places. I exhaled very loudly and very shakily.

"Wanna?"

I nodded vigorously.

And grinned.

And stopped thinking.

Much.

He nodded, and his hand stayed where it was. That put my face near his groin, where his hand was working on the hidden contents. I moved his hand away from his crotch and put my own there.

I could easily feel his hard dick in his jeans. I pushed him up so that I could open the button on his jeans. Then I unzipped them. He helped and I had them and his white briefs down to his ankles. His dick pointed directly at me. It was long and smooth, and even, and almost a perfect tube. The head flared out slightly, but it was overall softly contoured. It had very little loose skin and looked almost as hard as the skin would let it become.  It bobbed up and down in front of me, less than a foot away. His ball sack was pink and round, black hairs showing up against it well, holding his balls up against him tightly.

Feeling myself shivering all over, I reached out and wrapped my thumb and fingers around it, then moved the skin carefully from front to back. It was hot, and hard, and I could feel every beat of his heart in it. Moving the skin was almost difficult, so I let my fingers and thumb slide over his skin, instead. I moved my hand faster. He gasped softly and I saw him actually shudder.

"You're about ready to cum, right?"

He nodded. He kept smiling.

"I thought I was gettin' some until half an hour ago."

I looked back at his dick as I stroked my hand over it. The head was darkening a little, from pale pink and white to completely pink and a little red at the hole. Within a minute he was moving his hips forward and back, groaning.

"Oh, shit, man, I'm gonna," he said in barely a whisper.

He shook all over and put his hands on my shoulders. His dick bounced upward again and again, almost pulling out of my grasp.

"Oh, fuck, man, gonna shoot!" he groaned. Then, "Oh, fuck!" under his breath as his body shivered and his dick arched along it's length.

A small droplet of white dripped out of the hole in the end, then a long, white streamer flew out of the hole and onto my shoulder.

"Ow!" he grunted and then bent over forward, nearly resting his head on the top of mine. "Ow!" again and another twirly string of white came out and fell near my feet. He repeated, "Ow!" several more times as a stream of white and clear fluids dribbled out of him in irregular waves. He shuddered and shook. His dick pulsed base to end, almost seeming to bend in my grasp. 

I could smell it, and I wanted to put my mouth over his dick and suck the rest out of him. I almost had to force myself not to. He shivered and pulled himself back away from me, and his dick out of my fingers.

"Oh, man! Way better!" he said cheerfully. "Fuckin' awesome! Thanks man!"

I nodded, and almost passed out when he used his fingers to squeeze another, last drop out of his dick, then put his fingers in his mouth. I wanted to do that for him, badly.

He panted a little as he finished cleaning himself up that way.

"What's it taste like?" I asked.

He shrugged and said, "Should'a asked before. Now it's gone. But you can suck it off and find out if you wanna."

He laughed and pushed his hips forward a couple of times, teasing, only joking. His dick was still fairly hard and it bobbed up and down with the movements of his hips. The head was slightly red, especially around the edges and at the hole. It was so tempting. His scrotum was pink and smooth, and I see his acorn-sized balls as they swayed with his movement.

I put both hands on his butt and pulled his hips toward me and slapped my mouth over his head. I ran my tongue over it and into the hole, just like Roger's friends showed me. I tasted skin and salty, musky cum left behind. He gasped loudly and put his hands on my head, pushing me away. I bobbed up and down a few times, resisting his hands pushing me away, and began sucking. Suddenly his hands were pulling me closer. 

"Oh my God!" he said, awed.

In seconds he was fucking my mouth and groaning, telling me how great it felt and begging me not to stop. I had no intentions of stopping, at all. His dick was narrow, but so long and so hard. He slammed himself into my mouth hard, and I had to keep a fist between him and me or have my tonsils torn out. I loved how he smelled.

 He never shut up, always hissing his breath in through his teeth and telling me how great it felt. My hand on his butt felt his smooth, slightly fizzy skin moving over the lean muscles as he thrust again and again, all the way, bashing his bush against my fist.

I was enjoying it immensely, my dick throbbing and pulsing in my shorts almost as much as his dick did on my tongue. I felt like an orgasm wasn't far away at all. I put both legs under me so that I could grab my dick through my jeans and fondle it. I was sure that I was going to cum without taking it out. It tingled in a strange new way, and throbbed strongly.

 "Oh, fuck, yes, gonna again! Oh, GOD!" and he shoved himself against my fist, pushing his dick as far in as he could.

I couldn't breath with my nose crushed against my own fist and him pulling my head toward him so strongly that I couldn't pull it away even if I wanted to. I could barely get air, and it smelled like him, and I liked it. I felt his incredibly hard dick cuve along its length repeatedly, along with the rest of his body, and tasted the salty, musky cum as it rolled out of him. It was thinner than Roger's friends' was, and there was a little less of it. It also had a much milder taste.

"Oh my God!" he repeated endlessly as his body shivered and shook, and his dick pulsed and throbbed.

I already knew that I liked sucking dicks, and a new one added to my experience was a total joy. His smooth, tight skin all over his shaft was a new sensation, too.

Suddenly he pushed me away.

"Oh, man! Fuckin' A! Holy shit!"

He just stood there, grinning and panting, his dick slowly softening, one hand fondling his slowly dropping balls, the other resting on my shoulder.

"Oh, man! Fuckin' thanks! That was . . . fuck!"

Watching him come down, I was still playing with my hard-on in my jeans, and had to hold back several groans as I shot into my shorts. It felt like my cum was cottage cheese as it poured through my dick and soaked my briefs. Each time it came I felt like screaming in pleasure, but I had to hold that back completely, choking and swallowing it down. My dick stretched the skin over it tightly each time it swelled up and ejaculated. It was an incredible orgasm that raced through all of me as I stood in front of Jon's exposed groin. I tried to control the shivers, but had no ability to stop them.

I was still reeling on my knees as he pulled his shorts and jeans back up. He sat down on the benchtop. I leaned over it, hoping that my cum hadn't soaked through my jeans.

"Fuck, man. Don't think wrong, okay? But, can we do that again?"

I smiled, controlling how widely I did to hide how much I wanted to say yes.

I shrugged.

"If you wanna, I guess. I didn't mind."

"I promise, next time I'll do you, too. Okay?"

He kept smiling, widely, and I nodded.

"You won't tell anybody, will ya?"

"Hell no, man. Just between us. Honest. And don't worry about, you know, about anything. Guys mess around, ya know?"

He nodded, still smiling a lot, still breathing a little quickly.

"Hey, let's head upstairs, fill up the bowl, and smoke into sleep."

I nodded, and shortly after, we did.

 * * *

The next morning was all normal. Neither Jon or I gave anything away. It was the same to me as what I had done with Tom; a secret, only between the two of us.

Tom and Eric were up first, and Jon went home for breakfast. The three of us spent the day having fun and getting high. That night, Eric stayed awake by sheer force of will, nodding off from time to time. Tom fell asleep during the first "Creature Feature," and couldn't be blamed. Eric and I got more stoned and decided to see if there was any truth to the old story about a bowl of warm water. I was sure it had to be true, Eric had to have it proven. We only had one sleeping victim to experiment upon, so . . .

* * *

Eric went home Sunday afternoon, and it wasn't an hour before Tom and I were in the bathroom, hands on each other, stroking and panting. We got high again, watched some television, played some games, and before he went home that night, we jerked each other off again.

The next week was one of the longest weeks of my life. Tom and I spent nearly every afternoon after school in my bathroom, then got high and watched television or played games. At night I jerked off, usually thinking of Jeff, but sometimes Eric or Tom. I even dreamt of Jeff, and of doing so many things with him. It was nothing new to have sex dreams of guys, but the ones of Jeff were very vivid, and very strong. I felt things in them that I couldn't explain, emotions that were strange. I often simply dreamt of holding him, stroking him, simply being with him, but they were so sexually charged that sex entered the dreams in strange images and blurred visions. I began to wonder if Jeff was making me crazy.

When that next Friday finally came, the three of us were so excited that the bus ride seemed to take no time at all. We had all become seemingly best friends by then. Jeff was to go home as usual, coming over later for dinner with his brother and his mom. Tom was coming over to my place after school, then home for a while, then back to my place - with Jon, if his brother came for the night.

Jeff, his brother, and his mom were due at six, the same time Eric usually showed up. I shut off the new T.G. Sheppard song after changing the station to the popular rock station and rubbed my hands together, trying to calm myself.

It's just a guy and his brother and his mom! No big deal. No big deal! It's just gorgeous, sexy, hot Jeff! No! It's just Jeff, damn it! Shit! I'm so gonna fuck this up! I'm so faggy! Jeff is a great guy with a good sense of humor, who likes cool stuff, I really wanna get to know him even more. His brother is only ten, but could be an okay little kid if he's like his bro. It's Jeff's mom that has me worried. She seems really strict from the way he talks. Dune's on her long, not-allowed reading list for fuck's sake. Getting in trouble with her has to be so easy.

I knew she was very religious, and I had warned my parents of it. They had said that it would be nice to have a faithful person over for dinner and looked forward to meeting her.

Tom returned with Jon, and their parents permission for the usual overnight at my house. They had never refused since our parents had become friends as well, often having patio parties or cards nights while we were at the other house.

Eric arrived shortly after Tom and Jon, and we were all in the den, with Eric kneeling at the television, flipping it back and forth between channel five and nine. I wasn't watching, was instead intent on my inner thoughts as we waited for Jeff, Todd, ,and their mom to arrive.

Jeff had explained on the bus that his mom had pretty much agreed to let them stay, and as long as she didn't see anything to worry her, she planned on going back home alone and picking them up tomorrow afternoon.

When the knock came, the other guys waited in the den. I was the first to the door, but waited until my folks were there before swinging it open. Jeff stood in front, Todd to the right, and their mom behind, between, and over them. Todd and Jeff each carried identical, matching sleeping bags and packs that looked brand new.

Jeff was simply gorgeous. Contrasting with his stiff, new-looking school clothes, he was wearing softly faded jeans that clung to his thighs, also revealing that he had enough down there to push out a nice package in them. He had a slightly tight blue tee-shirt on, tucked into his jeans. His bright smile, pale face, and light hair stood out against the dark shirt. I felt my heart stutter a beat and felt as if a sign had just lit up over my head reading "FAGOT".

His brother was much shorter, stouter, and just as blond and cute. While he was much heavier, he was still not fat, and looked to be headed toward heartbreaker status himself. His eyes were darker than Jeff's, but still blue. His lips were thinner, but still ruby red, and framed a wide smile around his white teeth.

Their mom was pretty. Blonde, tall, slightly broad, she was a Nordic poster child. Large breasts stood out despite her loose blouse that attempted to hide them. She wore her hair down, straight, without adornment, and she seemingly wore no, or very little, makeup.

"Hi!" Jeff chirped, beaming.

I returned the greeting just as enthusiastically, and added, "Come in, this is my parents, Bill and Linda. Mom, dad, this is Jeff and his mom. And Todd!"

"Hi, call me Laura, please," she said, stepping into the doorway behind Jeff, who with his brother, scooted near the stairs with me.

She talked briefly with mom and dad about how nice it was that her son had made a friend, and how careful parents had to be these days about whom their children associated with. She said she hoped Todd wouldn't be a problem, coming to stay overnight and not even knowing me and all. She complimented the house and decorations, mom's pantsuit, and dad's tie.

We filed into the den where the three adults talked, mostly about us. She was a powerful presence! I didn't recognize that fact at the time, only feeling that she was in charge, somehow, for some reason. The adults wanted a bit of time to say hi and get to know each other alone, so I took Jeff and Todd into the den to watch a movie with the other guys.

Mom and dad had just bought a new VHS deck, one that you didn't have to slam the tray down to keep closed. It loaded in front, and when you hit the eject button, the tape came out smoothly about an inch or so, making it easy to grab. It also had a digital clock and timer, and lo and behold, a remote control! The wire was even long enough to reach the couch! What would they come up with next? This one was smaller than a suitcase!

"Smokey and The Bandit" had finally come out on VHS, and all of us had a great time watching it. None of us had seen it at the movies, and watching a movie at home without commercials was still a somewhat new sensation.

I sat in the middle of the couch, Tom to my right, Jeff to my left. Eric and Todd were in the large recliner of dad's, and Jon was in mom's slightly smaller one. I spent quite a bit of time watching Jeff, of course. The more I saw of him, the more I liked what I saw.

There were no flaws to him that I had found yet. His faded jeans fit his thighs and his package like a glove, and his short-sleeved shirt let his shape echo through it. His nearness fired my every sense. His blond hair begged my fingers to weave through it. His laugh was soft, quiet, and amusing in itself; hearing it made me want to laugh just for hearing it more. His ruby red lips begged mine to kiss them. My arms yearned to wrap around him and hold him tightly to me. I noticed he wore cologne, but I didn't recognize it. I liked it a great deal; it wasn't musky, like most stuff, which I hated. It was spicy, light, almost sweet.

I wanted to stop time, like with that watch in that Disney movie that had been on television a week ago. I wished for that stopwatch so that I could sit on Jeff's lap as I stared into his face, or rested my chin on his shoulder and inhaled his smell for as long as I wished.

My mind wouldn't stop thinking those kinds of things throughout the movie. I had gotten hard several times, once so hard that it had almost hurt. I had never felt such powerful desires and emotions before. The sexual experiences over the previous year had woken new and strange and powerful things in me, but what Jeff was doing to me was wholly beyond that.

After half an hour, Jeff and I agreed to go see how things were going with the old ones in the kitchen. We broke away from the pack and I knocked on the doorframe as we entered the kitchen.

"Hi, just wanted t'see how things are going?" I hinted.

"Hi, son. Jeff. We were just getting to know each other. You know, Laura rides the same bus as your mom?" dad said.

"Really?" we both asked, surprised.

"Yes, we thought we looked familiar to each other at the door. When she said she works downtown, we laughed and realized we saw each other a lot on the same bus to the downtown transfer station." his mom added.

"So is everything okay?" Jeff asked, obviously dying to hear the good word.

"Oh, yes, don't worry, you and your brother can stay," she said, smiling.

"Cool!" we said in unison.

"Go back and watch the movie. Dinner is about ready," mom said. "We'll let you know when."

We ran back to share the good news with the other guys. The sleepover was a hit. By midnight we had become a close group of friends. I had coined the title, The Circle, and it was unanimously supported in the first ever vote of the group. The secret Circle handshake was created, modified, and accepted. The swear, "Friends. Like now, like always" was accepted as our official slogan. The third vote was to smoke a bowl. That vote passed nearly unanimously, only Jeff and Todd abstaining, as they did from smoking it as well. The fourth vote was one to raid the kitchen. That idea was unanimously passed, a plan was quickly drawn up, then flawlessly carried out. We took turns playing the new Coleco once the spoils of the raid were gone. When not playing that, we would mess with my models, books, or play a few hands of poker or blackjack.

Jeff had to call home at ten o'clock, as per his mom's rule. He used the phone in my room and we turned down the radio and kept fairly quiet. He said he and Todd were fine, having fun, and nothing was wrong. He said he would call tomorrow morning at ten. She asked to talk to Todd, who said the same things. Todd was obviously just told that he was loved, as he blushed deeply, mumbled something we couldn't hear, then hung up quickly. He glanced around at us quickly, like an intelligent cow that had just been led into a slaughter house, obviously knowing what was coming.

The teasing was fairly moderate, and Todd took it well, even handing back a few lines of his own.

From time to time, I would sneak down to the garage with one or two of the guys who weren't busy and smoke a bowl with them. Jeff and Todd didn't want to smoke any, and I didn't want to make them, or make them feel awkward or left out. When we returned upstairs we usually brought drinks, snacks, or something else.

The lives of every one of us there that night had already changed, when long after my parents had said goodnight, and the Great Raid carried out, and The Circle formalized, Jon produced the evenings late entertainment. The brand new Playboy elicited ooohs and ahhhs from all present. We looked at the images, and even took turns reading the stories out loud to each other.

Todd, the youngest, was awed to near silence at first. Jeff was smiling widely and blushing the darkest of all of us. Eric was at the end of the bed giggling uncontrollably. Tom and I were pointing and making comments the most often, while Jon often bragged of having done it that way or something similar.

We looked through the magazine over and over, or played ColecoVision until we began to fall asleep one by one. Todd fought as long as he could, after becoming the most voracious viewer of the Playboy, and fell asleep sitting against the foot of the bed waiting for his turn on Coleco. Jeff passed out shortly after Todd, stretched out on his side on his sleeping bag. Tom lasted until almost two o'clock before he fell asleep. Jon and I outlasted Eric. It wasn't long before Jon gave up and went to sleep.

I sat there after Jon drifted off, looking at his body. He had fallen asleep with an arm over his eyes, so his shirt was pulled up and was exposing his faint trail of dark hair until it vanished behind the waistband of his jeans. I hoped that I could stay awake long enough to see if he had a wet dream, or at least got hard during a hot one. I wanted to slowly open his zipper and poke around in there, in the hopes that I could stir his mind into dreaming up a hot sex dream so that I could feel his large, hard, erect dick again.

The fear of what the older boy would do to me if he caught me with my hand in his pants kept me from so much as moving a single finger anywhere near him. Or any of them. I had friends now, and I didn't want to mess that up. Guys messed around sometimes, that's all. They didn't yearn and ache to do it, and to have someone who loved to do it back.

I went to the bathroom and all but showered. I couldn't stop thinking of what I had done with Tom and Jon. I even got hard more than once, but ignored it.

I was in a very good mood as I headed back to my bed. Eric had moved, or hadn't, but I stumbled over his feet as he lay on the floor. It woke him up quickly, and he grinned when he saw I hadn't done so trying to tie him up, or place a bowl of water, perhaps?

"Hey, wanna go upstairs and hit a bowl? I snoozed, and could use a sleeper hit to get back out."

I nodded and joined him upstairs with a joint. We leaned out the window and stared at the city's night skyline.

He was leaning over, looking out the window at the Chicago skyline, and I suddenly wanted to get him naked again. He was in eighth grade, barely thirteen, and I wondered if he had started to get hair down there, or if he had discovered sex with himself yet. My dick hardened immediately and I felt a rush of sexual thrill run through me.

I liked redheads, I knew, and I thought Eric was cute, of course. It had been hard to talk to him that first day without wondering what he would be like naked, especially when he got older and started to become really interesting. As we leaned out the window, I pulled the bowl from my pocket and lit it. We passed it back and forth, and I tried to figure out a way to see what he would be willing to do together.

 My neighbor, Marie, came home then. We watched as she and her boyfriend made out in his convertible the driveway. The streetlight barely lit them, but our imaginations filled in the rest. We both laughed and covered our mouths when we saw her head go down in front of him and his head go back on the headrest.

"Fuck! She's blowin' him!" Eric said with a wide smile.

"I know! Lucky bastard. I bet with her nice lips she can get a lot of suction going!"

We laughed, then Eric said, "Wonder what it's like."

"Gettin' head?"

He nodded and adjusted himself in his jeans. My dick throbbed and jerked in my pants.

"Got wood?" I asked, trying not to snicker.

He nodded, and his hand stayed where it was. He had to look away from me to keep watching Marie and her boyfriend in the car, so he couldn't see that I watched his hand. He was obviously massaging himself, and that made me even harder.

I hit the bowl again, passed it to him, and watched it turn to ashes. When he handed it back, it was too hot to put back in my pocket, so I put it down on the floor. That put my face near his groin, where his hand was working on the hidden contents. I don't know what came over me, or how I did it, but I moved his hand away from his crotch and put my own there.

I could easily feel his hard dick in his jeans. It felt small, but very hard.

"What're you doin'?" he asked softly, surprise clear in his voice.

"I'm gonna show you something awesome."

"You gonna suck it?" he asked, his voice soft, merely a whisper, and shaky.

I looked up and saw that he was smiling, and didn't look angry at all.

"You jerk it, you said, right?"

He nodded. We had been friends for only a few weeks, but being teenagers, we had covered all the topics having anything to do with sex. We both knew the other one jacked off every day.

"I wanna show you how awesome it is when someone else does it for you. Way better than doing it yourself."

He nodded, still grinning. The tingles in my gut grew and spread. I grinned back.

I opened the button on his jeans, then unzipped them. They fell down his thin legs and to the floor. He wasn't wearing any underwear and his dick pointed directly at me. It was small, maybe three inches, and had a faint ring of short, red hairs around the base. It bobbed up and down in front of me, less than a foot away. His ball sack was pink and round, holding his small balls up against him tightly.

Feeling myself shivering all over, I reached out and put my thumb and finger on it and moved the skin carefully from front to back. It was hot, and hard, and bounced. I moved my hand faster, moving the skin forward and back. He gasped and grinned crazily.

"You said you cum, right?"

He nodded. He kept smiling widely.

I looked back at his dick between my finger and thumb as I stroked the skin over it. It was shaped nicely, almost smooth, and if it kept the same dimensions as it grew with him, I thought he would have a fairly long one. The head was dark pale pink, the shaft white to completely pink and a little red at the head.

I jerked him off slowly, not wanting it to be over too soon, but he was already moving his hips forward and back, groaning.

"Oh, wow, that's fucking great!" he said in an awed whisper.

He shook all over and put his hands on my shoulders. His dick bounced upward again and again, almost pulling out of my grasp.

"Oh, gonna!" he squealed. Then he held his breath, his body shivered, and his dick wiggled like a worm.

A small droplet appeared at the hole, and I wanted to clean it off with my tongue. I didn't know how he would react, but I wanted it badly. His eyes were closed as he stood there, shaking and breathing heavily. I couldn't resist, and I slid my mouth over his small, hard dick.

"Oh my God! Wow!" he grunted and began shivering even more. "What's it taste like?"

I shrugged and said, "Skin, is all," and went back to sucking his little dick.

I put both hands on his butt and pulled his hips toward me. I ran my tongue over his head and into the hole, just like Roger's friends showed me. He gasped loudly and put his hands on my head, pulling me closer. I pushed my face into the soft skin over his few, short pubes and sucked while I licked.

"Oh my God!" he said, awed.

He started fucking my mouth and groaning, telling me how great it felt and begging me not to stop. I had no intentions of stopping, at all. His dick was small and narrow, but so hard. He slammed himself into my mouth hard, making slapping sounds sometimes. My nose would end up mashed into the soft skin above the few red pubes around his dick, and I loved how he smelled. He never shut up, always hissing his breath in through his teeth and telling me how great it felt. My hands on his butt felt his smooth skin moving over the muscles as he thrust again and again, all the way into my mouth. He would lock there and quiver from time to time. My fingers met at his crack, and his small buttocks were firm and smooth.

I was enjoying it immensely, and my dick was throbbing and pulsing in my shorts, again. Just like his small dick was doing on my tongue. My orgasm wasn't far away at all. I put both knees under me so that I could grab my dick through my jeans and fondle it again. I was sure that I was going to cum without taking it out again. It tingled in that strange new way, again, and then throbbed strongly.

Eric said, "Oh, fuck, yes! Oh, GOD!" and he shoved himself against my face, pushing his dick as far in as he could.

I couldn't breath with my nose crushed against him and him pulling my head toward him so strongly that I couldn't pull it away even if I wanted to. I could barely get air, and it smelled like him, and I liked it. I felt his incredibly hard dick tremble and shiver along with the rest of his body, then tasted the salty, musky cum as it rolled out of him. It was thin and had a much milder taste than any before. There was very little of it, but his body trembled and twisted as if he were pouring gallons of cum into my mouth.

I noticed this time as my groin tensed and my ass clenched, and a nearly continuous wave of cum rolled through my dick. It was awesome, and low-key, but went on nearly continuously for some time. My whole body tensed and I quivered as it ended. Then I took breath once again with a shudder.

"Wow!" we repeated endlessly as our bodies shivered and shook, and our dick pulsed and throbbed.

He just stood there, grinning and panting, his dick slowly softening, one hand fondling his small balls, the other resting on my shoulder.

"Oh, man! Fuckin' thanks! That was . . . fuck!"

It was an incredible orgasm that had raced through me as I knelt in front of Eric's exposed groin. I tried to control the shivers, but had no ability to stop them.

I was still reeling on my knees as Eric pulled his jeans back up. He sat down on the window sill and I stood up, hoping that my cum hadn't soaked through my jeans. Again.

"Fuck, man. Can we do that again?"

I smiled widely, and said, "Yes."

"I promise I'll do you, too, next time. Okay?"

He kept smiling, widely, and I nodded.

"You won't tell anybody, will ya?"

"Hell no, man. Just between us. Honest. And don't worry about, you know, about anything. Guys mess around, ya know?"

We grinned the whole way downstairs, and I grinned as I changed in the bathroom and Eric immediately fell asleep.

Eric and Jon had been almost twin events, like some kind of twin omen. It had seemed mystical. Deep.

 As they all slept, I looked around at them, surprised that I had any friends, let alone that many who were willing to sleep over. It seemed impossible that I was jacking one of them off daily, and had jacked off and then blown another one, the first's older brother, last weekend. And another I'd just jacked off then blown as well.

And now the one I really wanted, was there. Back. Again. Each of them were cute in some ways or another, but Jeff was by far the most attractive. He was cute even as he slept. I wanted to smell him again. I wanted to touch him. I wanted to see if his hair was as soft as it looked. I wanted to see if his face was a smooth as it looked. I wanted to touch more. He was asleep on his side, his legs just slightly bent, his flanks and his crotch so tempting. There was no doubt the desire to do so was there, but the idea and the desire itself seemed unworthy of Jeff.

Instead, I fell asleep, thinking of doing things to all of them, but mostly, thinking of Jeff. 

I dreamt of him that night.

The next day was awesome. Jon left, having other, older friends that he was going to do things with. By three, Todd and Jeff were picked up by their mom. They both promised to be back next weekend, and their mom agreed to drop them off and pick them up.

Tom, Eric, and I had a great time. We got high, played music and games, and ended up having another sleepover that night. Eric fell asleep early, and Tom and I sneaked into a guest bedroom after smoking a bowl together. We giggled quietly as we fumbled each other out of our jeans and jacked each other off for the first time outside of the bathroom. We ended up laying down and cumming onto our stomachs, laughing and tickling each other. We laid there for a while, still snickering some before we washed up and went back to my bedroom.

Tom was again more than just guys messing around. He liked to touch and tickle some. Mostly during or right after. Or light touching, which was also great, if he was willing. It was far more fulfilling than the empty stuff with the rest of the guys. All of them.

And I wanted that, and more, with Jeff.

I was woken up by Eric. It was dark outside, but sometime early in the morning. He had his hand in my pants and was playing with my erect, throbbing dick. I was seconds from cumming and stopped him.

He suddenly looked worried, but I grinned.

"Let's go somewhere else," I said softly and led him to the same guest bedroom as Tom and I had used earlier.

We undressed completely and crawled onto the bed naked. We had seen the couple doing a sixty-nine in the magazine last night, so we tried it. Neither of us lasted long at all, and both of us swallowed. It was my second time that night, and it was powerful.

He didn't get soft when he was done, and he kept playing with my softening dick, keeping it from going completely soft. We giggled quietly and ended up doing it again. It almost hurt when I came for the third time that night, and I loved it. When I moved to get out of the bed after a few minutes, he pulled me back and started up again. He didn't seem to cum any that third time, but I felt as if the entire contents of my testes emptied out of me in an incredible orgasm that made me twist and curl until joints popped. Eric said he didn't think I had cum any, but he felt as if he had dumped a gallon in my mouth. We were overly sensitive, but we toyed with each other for a while all the same.

I wondered if he was gay, too. He seemed to really enjoy what we were doing, but then, so had Roger and his cousins, and they were all straight. We talked a little bit about what we had done, and we agreed that it was fantastic fun, that we both wanted to do it again, and as often as we could. We agreed that guys messed around, and that was all we were doing.

We sneaked back to my room, noticing that Tom hadn't moved an inch. I was very relieved. We had been gone almost an hour.

I fell asleep thinking of Jeff, and wishing that it had been him upstairs instead of Eric. I liked Eric enough, but he was young and small. I wanted something more like Jeff, or Jon. And I didn't feel anything for Eric or Jon, or even Tom, that I felt for Jeff.

I dreamed of him again.

Wednesday: Close Calls