Date: Sun, 21 Nov 2010 19:59:00 -0800 (PST)
From: Tague Micheals <tag.michaels@yahoo.com>
Subject: My Young Co-Worker

I've been working on this story off and on for 7 months. I've lost interest
in it a half dozen times. I'm not sure if I want to continue it actually so
it'll depend on what kind of feedback I get on it. You guys decide.

As always, there isn't a shred of truth to it as it relates to my life.

Hugs,
Tag_m

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~     ~~~~~~~~~~~~     ~~~~~~~~~~~~~     ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I first met Ryan just after Memorial Day at an orientation meeting for new
hires at a new job I'd taken. There were only three of us; the third person
being a lemony faced older lady who was going to work in billing and
appeared to be, well, a bitch. I was 27 years old, had been out of grad
school for 4 years and had gotten a position on an Indian reservation. I
was an LCSW who had cut my teeth working with the GLBT community in a major
metropolitan area but wanted to try my hand at a different population as
well as work thirty miles closer to where I lived. I had verification of
native decendancy to qualify for Indian preference so applied for and got
the job.

Ryan was just shy of 16 and going to be a senior in September.  His
position with the tribe was his first full time job as part of a summer
youth project. A tall lanky blond kid, Ryan had gotten a job working in the
maintenance department. The first day was spent in orientation which was a
boring affair although it was also pretty low key and laid back, run by a
lady from the human resources department. Because it was 2 on 2 as it were,
the ladies sat on one side of the table while Ryan and I were on the
other. A large part of the orientation consisted of reading from the P&P
and other manuals and Ryan seemed to have a little bit of difficulty at
times either understanding what he was reading or keeping up. I was more
than happy to help while the lemon faced bitch simply rolled her saggy eyes
when the boy asked a question. When the HR person was out of the room, the
female new hire's attitude was so bad that Ryan commented on it while we
were on one of the frequent breaks.

We were standing outside of the two story brick building just enjoying the
balmy late spring weather and Ryan said, "Is it just me or is Lacy just,
well..." he sort of stammered a second then said, "well I don't think she
likes me." My heart sort of went out to the kid. He looked at me with a
kind of sad look on his smooth young face. Ryan seemed to be a nice young
man, a little naïve perhaps, but nice.

"No Ryan, it's not about you at all." I looked around then leaned my head
toward him in a conspiratorial manner and whispered, "She's just a cunt,
that's all. She probably doesn't like anybody." He reared his head
backwards away from me as though I'd farted or something, his large doe
like brown eyes opened wide.

"I thought you were like, a counselor or something," he said in a voice
that indicated that counselors weren't suppose to talk that way about
people. I gave him my best smile and replied,

"In this case cunt is a therapeutic term." He seemed confused for a split
second then laughed.

We ended up having almost an hour and a half for lunch and naturally we
decided to go together and since I knew the city I elected to drive. Like
Benjamin Braddock my parents had gotten me a car for graduation, a bright
yellow Lotus Elise SC and when Ryan saw it I thought he was going to faint.

I knew of a small out of the way place that served the best Italian food
within a thousand miles and it was there that I got to know more about
Ryan. The youngest of five siblings and the only boy, he'd been raised in a
small farming community a hundred miles away. He was staying with his
father's sister for the summer. He said it was sort of boring but it seemed
to work out okay. Ryan was an average student, didn't know what he wanted
to do with his life and liked having the opportunity to be away from home,
sort of. As I listened to him my eyes took him in.

Dressed in a button down light blue shirt and tan Dockers, the nicest
clothes he owned, Ryan was a cute boy and would grow into a handsome
man. His oval face was blemish free. His blond hair was almost collar
length and was wavy almost to a point of curling and gave him a kind of
shaggy look. With perfect teeth and a slightly pouty mouth and beautiful
eyes he almost looked cherubic. He had a very slight little cleft on a soft
chin that bore a half a dozen or so pale hairs, an attempt I was sure to
dispel the image of being a baby faced boy.

When he shook his head in response to my question about having a girlfriend
I was surprised. Certainly from what I could see he should have had them
falling at his feet. He seemed to shy away from the question but the crux
of it was that he was new in town and didn't know anyone, didn't know how
to talk to girls, couldn't dance, didn't party, drink or do drugs. On the
other side of things, he didn't go to church either.

"I'm just not real comfortable around girls I guess Matt," he told me,
looking down at his plate.

"Well, that's okay Ryan, it'll all happen in time," I said. He took a bite
of his Alfredo, wiped his lips gently then asked if I was married or had a
girlfriend. I had to think about how to respond to that. I wasn't exactly
fully out but was working toward trying to be so I decided to be at least
partially honest.

"No, I don't have anyone in my life right now." He nodded his head in
acceptance and understanding then asked me about my life so I told him
about growing up in the city in the middle of an upper class
neighborhood. My parents were professionals, mom an art history professor
and my father head of the medical school at the university, where I'd
gotten my degree.

As I said, this was Ryan's first full time job and in talking about his
going to college some day he asked what other places I'd worked. When I
told him I'd worked with youth, which is actually anyone up to age 24, in
the GLBT community he asked what that was and when I told him his eyes got
quite large. We talked a little about that and in answer to a question I
took a moment to explain the different "trans" types; transgender,
transsexual and transvestitism. I went on to explain that in many native
communities, especially in Canada, sexual minority people were called "two
spirited people". I further explained that homosexuals had been considered
special people in most Indian tribes, were often healers; medicine men or
women, or shamans. They were called Beardache by over 169 tribes and even
had their own Society about which few people today are even aware of.  It
is speculated, or may even be an actual fact, that one of Crazy Horses'
wives was Beardache.

That seemed to cause the boy to stop and a strange look played across his
smooth youthful face. When I asked what was wrong he shook his head but
said,

"It seems like I remember my great grandmother saying that word but I can't
remember exactly." I was a little surprised that his great grandmother
would even know the term and commented on that. "She's full blood native,"
he said then went on to tell me a little about how as a child she'd taught
him some of her language as well as tribal history and legends. That the
boy was native surprised me but then it shouldn't have. I was well aware
that there were plenty of blond haired blue eyed Americans Indians, most
notably the Cherokee people.

Ryan asked what it was like working with gay people and I explained that in
many respects it was no different than working with any other population it
was just that some of the issues of sexual minority people were different
than other populations and of course he wanted to know why. I explained
about often being ostracized by family and others, the higher suicide rate,
about coming out and how it was different for each individual, often
happening because someone else outed them. Ryan seemed to understand the
concept then added that he didn't know any gay people at all.

"You probably do Ryan, it's just that they haven't come out to you, told
you that they were gay." Still, he said he was pretty sure that he
didn't. One of my life goals was to be fully out to people including
co-workers although I had been very careful about that. In fact very few of
my co-workers or clients in my previous job knew that I was gay and as yet
no one in my new workplace knew. Of course I didn't know anyone except
Alicia in HR and my two new co-workers but still. I decided to take a
chance with Ryan.

"Like I said Ryan, I'm pretty sure you know someone who is gay." He
remained doubtful. "Ryan, I'm gay," I told him after looking around the
room to make sure that no one was close enough to hear me. He raised a
thick dark brown eyebrow and said no way. Obviously I responded with,
"way". He thought about that for a moment then said,

"But you don't look gay Matt." I explained that the so called "looking gay"
while I put my fingers in the air and wiggled them like quotations marks,
was a typical stereotype that simply didn't fit. I went on to tell him that
my orientation was confidential information but didn't insult him by adding
"so don't tell anyone." Ryan did that himself promising that he wouldn't
tell a soul.

We finished lunch, which Ryan stated was the best he'd ever had and we went
back to the reservation and our orientation class. The rest of the
afternoon was mostly uneventful except that we were given a tour of the
campus. The tour included the behavioral health building where my office
was and I was actually shown my office. Ryan said he thought my office was
pretty cool so I told him that now that he knew where I'd be spending most
of my time, not to be a stranger. He smiled and said that he'd come visit
me as often as he could.

He was as good as his word although it wasn't always necessarily his
choice. They were doing quite a bit of remodeling of the building I was in
so we saw each other on a daily basis. Toward the end of the second week we
were chatting in the hall when they announced that we were closing down at
noon because a prominent tribal member had passed away that
morning. Closing for that or similar reasons were not uncommon in Indian
country. While happy about that, Ryan wondered out loud what he was going
to do with the rest of his day since his aunt would be at work at her
county job. I suggest that we have lunch somewhere and maybe hang out. He
smiled, nodded his head, and said that sounded cool. Ryan went about his
business then met me back at my office at noon.

Outside, I pulled the panel top off of the Lotus and stowed it before we
tore off toward a little hole in the wall hamburger place that served up
one of the best burgers and shakes in town. Afterwards I drove down along
the waterfront where lots of people were having a picnic on the lush green
lawns while others used the blacktopped walking trail. As usual there were
plenty of people riding bikes or rollerblading on the part of the trail
designated for such things while others walked, jogged or walked their dogs
on the side used for that purpose. It was a beautiful clear day and Ryan
seemed to enjoy it immensely. As I drove the topic of July 4th, little more
than 2 weeks away, came up and Ryan said that he probably wouldn't be doing
anything. He didn't have a car, didn't know anyone and didn't have any
place to go anyway.

"Well I don't have any plans either so how about this Ryan," I said. "Let's
take a day drive out to the ocean then get back before nightfall and watch
the city's fireworks display from my apartment." Actually it wasn't an
apartment but a condo. My parents bought it from some Doctor friends that
were moving to the East coast and needed to unload it. They had asked me
first of course, but essentially they made the down payment and I was
making the mortgage payments. It was on the 6th floor in a very choice old
brick building that had originally been a cannery that had been converted
into offices and then to condo's. It overlooked the city and the waterfront
and also had a view of the mountains to the northeast and to the mountains
to the west on perfectly clear days. It would give us an incredible view of
the two major fireworks displays that took place every year.

"That would be awesome Matt," the boy said. Over the next few weeks Ryan
and I got to know each other even better. I managed to give him a ride home
at least a half dozen times and on one occasion drove him by where I
lived. He was suitably impressed but then, a lot of people were. It was a
terrific old building with a lot of old growth trees and plenty of flower
beds. Ryan was even more impressed when he saw the guard house and wrought
iron gates, the only entry into the high, wrought iron fenced property. It
had an indoor pool, sauna, hot tub, and well equipped gym but hardly anyone
used it. Most of the residents were too old to give a flying fuck and
others were yuppie types who wouldn't deign to mingle with their neighbors.

With increasing frequency it seemed that Ryan found himself in my office as
we got down to quitting time and he would regale me with the exploits of
his day which often included interactions with his genial but sometimes
crazy supervisor named Koni, which wasn't his real name but the name that
everyone knew him by. In Indian county it seemed as though everyone had a
nickname that they'd had almost since birth. It could get real confusing at
times. As Ryan and I got to know each other I got the impression that
something might be on his mind. At times he would sort of check out on me
but being ever the counselor I figured that he would get around to whatever
was bugging him if in fact my perception was even accurate in that regard.

 The 4th finally got here and in keeping with the holiday spirit we were
closed the day before and since the holiday was on a Saturday it gave us a
three day weekend and, as it turned out, Ryan's aunt was going to be out of
town. When I saw him on Wednesday he told me that his aunt was going on a
last minute excursion with a bunch of people her age and although Ryan had
been invited he declined the invitation. While he would be alone on Friday
and most of Sunday at least he'd be with me on Saturday he explained. The
proverbial light bulb went on in my head.

"You don't have to be alone you know Ryan. You're more than welcome to stay
at my place. I have a spare room, although admittedly the futon in it isn't
the most comfortable in the world. We can do something on Friday, believe
me I have no plans." In truth I didn't. The boys' big blue eyes lit up like
it was Christmas or something.

"I'd have to ask my aunt but I'm sure it'll be fine Matt. That'd be great."
I thought for a moment he was going to hug me, and I wouldn't have minded
even a little bit. He stopped by my office first thing the next
morning. "Umm she said I could stay with you but she'd leaving this
afternoon Matt."

"Okay, is that a problem?"

"Well I wasn't going to come over until tomorrow night," he said, his voice
having a tinge of concern to it.

I shot him a big smile and said, "Why put off till tomorrow what you can do
today. I guess we'll have to drive over to your house after work and get a
bag then huh?" That statement brought him out of what looked like the
beginning of a funk, he nodded his head and said "okay," then asked what he
should bring and my response was to pack whatever he felt he'd need but to
make sure it included swim wear of some kind. It turned out he didn't own a
swim suit because there was no pool, rivers or ponds within fifty miles of
the community where he lived. He had cutoffs but that was it.

"Well I guess that'll work for the beach and if we decide to use the pool
at my place maybe you can wear something I've got." The raised eyebrow in
response to that statement was involuntary. Ryan was easily a size lower
than my 34. "We'll cross that bridge if and when we come to it," I said
with smile.

The work day finally ended and I met Ryan in front of my building and we
headed toward where I parked my car, a corner spot with nothing close to
it. Fifteen minutes later I was parked in front of the small bungalow in a
quiet neighborhood where his aunt lived and another fifteen minutes after
that we were headed up the hill to my condo; and into a nightmare. Okay,
maybe not a nightmare but at least a really bad dream.

I could see the flashing red lights of a city fire engine as well as an aid
unit and a couple of TV news vans.  The guard at the front gate came out of
his shack and explained the mayhem.

Essentially Mrs. Dixon, an elderly widow who lived on the floor above me,
had run water for a bath and gone back into her bedroom and apparently had
a stroke. The water overflowed the tub and must have been running for a
good three hours before it began seeping into the main hallway as well as
through the floor and into the condo's below it. Mr. Hutchins, the building
manager would be able to tell me more so I parked the Lotus in its covered
slot then Ryan and I went to find him and/or check out my unit, whichever
came first. As it turned out I managed both at the same time, almost
running headlong into him as we exited the elevator on my floor.

"Ahhh, Mr. Inay I'm so glad that you're here. I'm afraid that we had to go
into your unit to assess the immediate damage." I nodded my head in
understanding. A set of master keys were kept in the management office in
the event of such emergencies. Before I had moved in an elderly had woman
passed away in her condo which went un-noticed for almost 10 days before
her decomposing body was discovered because family members couldn't get a
hold of her. They had to bust the door down to get in.

As we walked toward my unit Mr. Hutchins explained that the ceiling in my
spare bedroom was damaged as was the floor although the latter wouldn't
require a lot of work. In the bedroom I discovered that my futon mattress
had soaked up a great deal of the water, in turn, rendering it unusable.  I
talked with Mr. Hutchins for another ten minutes or so, getting the rest of
the details of the accident as well as the building owners plans for
getting the necessary repairs done in as timely and least disrupting a
manner as possible.

"Well," I said to Ryan, "I apologize for this disruption. I don't know what
we're going to do for sleeping arrangements." We were standing in my living
room looking out at the panoramic view of the city in the distance, its
waterfront and the mountain range beyond that. I glanced around at the
furnishings in the room. The sofa was a comfortable sit but not a
comfortable sleep and I knew that from personal experience. Aside from that
Ryan's lanky frame would likely need more length than what the sofa would
provide. Much as I hated to broach the subject, Ryan's best bet was to
sleep with me.

"I could sleep on the couch," Ryan proposed as he turned his gaze from the
view to the sofa. "It doesn't look all that comfortable though, no
offense." I shrugged my shoulders and agreed with him. "I could sleep in
your bed Matt, I mean, if that's okay." I suggested that we go look at my
room and when Ryan saw the king sized bed he nodded his head. That agreed
on, I suggested that he bring his bag in here and we could stow his clothes
in one of the spare drawers in the built ins located in the walk in closet.
Since work crews were busy in the spare room I suggested we get out of the
house and go for a drive to which Ryan readily agreed.

"I going to change into shorts or something Ryan," I told him and his
response was that sounded like a good idea. I went into the closet and
pulled out a pair of board shorts and Ryan pulled out some bright red sport
shorts. "I'm going to change right here Ryan so you can to use the bathroom
you want." He shrugged his shoulders and said that it didn't matter. I went
about shrugging off my slacks and hanging them while Ryan did the same
right next to me, shoving his jeans to the floor. While I didn't really
want to look at the boy I needed to hang my slacks and he was standing
right about where I needed to be so I simply turned, said excuse me and he
stepped back while I pulled a hanger down and attached my pants to the
clips. What I noticed was that he wore plain old white FTL cotton briefs
but because of his t-shirt I couldn't make out anything other than that
fact. I went about doing the same with my shirt so for a moment I was
standing there in only my boxer briefs. Now, I should say that being
scantily clothed in front of the boy hadn't been my goal. I dressed and
undressed every single day using the same pattern: shirt first in the
morning, last in the evening. So it was that Ryan seemed compelled to
comment.

"Those are a different kind of underwear Matt; I've never seen anything
like that before."

"Oh," I said, stopping and looking down at my own stuff, "They're boxer
briefs, kind of a happy medium between briefs and boxers, not as confining
as briefs but not as, umm, free as boxers," I said with a smile. Ryan was
sort of looking at my groin as I talked and since I didn't wear a t-shirt
he had a pretty clear view of my package.

"Yeah, I know what you mean," he said, looking down at his own groin which,
as I said, was covered by his t-shirt. "These can be kinda uncomfortable
sometimes," and he pulled the shirt up giving me a glimpse of what he had
although everything was kind of loose from having been worn all day, not as
tight and revealing as a fresh pair might have been. Still, the outline of
his cock indicated nothing to be ashamed of. "Boxers are okay," he went on
after dropping the shirt, "But they're a little, umm, too free I guess
you'd say." I nodded my head as I pulled a pair of cargo shorts out of a
drawer but didn't put them on right away.

It was a little strange standing there chatting with Ryan, both of us in
our underwear. I wondered briefly if the situation wasn't some rite of
passage between us or something. I mean, he knew I was gay yet here he
stood practically showing his stuff off to me. I wondered what the message
was that he was putting out, or if there even was a message.

"Well maybe you can try a pair of these on sometime, see what you think," I
told him as I stepped into the shorts. He nodded his head and said he'd
think about that. It was getting toward 3 and we hadn't eaten lunch yet and
I didn't particularly want to cook. I had been craving chicken fried steak
for about a week. Of course Ryan had never had it so off we went to a place
I knew that did a more credible job, in fact it was the best I'd ever
eaten.

Located in and older building in the older part of town the inside of the
restaurant was a hodge-podge of mismatched tables and chairs. Ryan was a
little bit taken aback as we were the only white people in the place, not
that it mattered.

"Matthew where in the Sam hell have you been," I heard a somewhat shrill
voice call out. I smiled and turned to see Shevaughn, my favorite waitress
in the whole wide world come from behind the counter, arms wide open for a
hug. Shevaughn is a big girl, in fact I've suspected that she's actually a
drag queen but have never broached the topic with her. After a big hug and
a scolding she turned to Ryan.

"Well aren't you just the cutest little thing," said and pinched his cheek
which caused the boy to blush furiously. "I could just gobble you up like a
sweet potato pie." Ryan actually lowered his head, focusing on something
between his shoes. I introduced Ryan to Shevaughn then she took my order
and since Ryan had no idea what most of the things on the menu were he had
the same thing that I did, the aforementioned chicken fried steak.

"You have such an easy way with people Matt. I wish I could be like that."

"In my business you have to be but you know; you can change that for
yourself if you don't like it." Of course he wanted to know what I mean so
while we waited for our meal I explained the stages of change, then how to
go about making changes. He seemed to grasp the concepts. Our meal finally
arrived along with large mugs of Mango iced tea; Ryan was a little taken
aback by the size of the steak which had to 16 oz of cubed beef. After a
few bites in silence Ryan said,

"How do you know so much about food, and, well, just about every thing?" I
smiled and explained that I didn't really but it might just seem like that
to someone who wasn't city raised. I went on to explain that I'd also
traveled extensively because my parents took at least a month off every
summer and we traveled most of it. When I was younger it was mostly the US
and Canada but as I got older we went abroad and by the time I graduated
high school I'd traveled to every continent at least twice. Ryan told me
that he'd never been out of the state.

We dug into our meal, Ryan exclaiming that it was delicious. He was
right. When we arrived back at my place I ran into the manager again and he
told me that the cleanup people were still upstairs. "They are asking that
they have access to both units as early as 7 in the morning Mr. Inay and
get the repair work started and hopefully done as soon as possible. Will
that be a problem?" I sighed and said that it wouldn't. Upstairs, the
lingering odor of the water and the subsequent mess hit me as soon as I
walked in the door. I thought about that for all of 30 seconds.

"Ryan, how important is it for you to see the city's fireworks display?" He
looked at me for second, wondering, then shrugged his shoulders and said
not very.  I explained the whole situation of the damaged condo and that I
just didn't want to be around and have to deal with it. I'd just as soon go
away for a couple of days and was he okay with that. He was. I jumped on
line and looked up a resort that I'd visited a couple of times and called
them.

"We got a cancellation on a cabin about an hour ago, would you like it?" I
gave them my credit card number and 7 minutes later I told the manager he
could have access to my condo as early as he wanted. 10 minutes later we
were on the freeway. It was a three and a half hour drive to where we were
going and we talked most of the time. He shared some of his boyhood
escapades and I shared some of mine. He asked about sexual encounters and
what where they like. I told him quite a bit about myself without it
getting into graphic detail. Of course he asked some of the typical
questions like, "doesn't it hurt," etc. When I asked abut his experiences
there weren't any. Ryan had never kissed a girl before and wondered what
that was like or would be like. I chuckled and said that I hadn't either,
which caused Ryan to smile at my joke.

"How different can it be," he wondered aloud.

"Probably not much," I ventured then added, "Unless of course facial hair
is involved." He agreed with that, was quiet for a moment then said,

"I'm almost afraid to be with someone. I mean, I've never done anything so
I don't know just what to do. I'm afraid that I'd embarrass myself." His
tone of voice told me that he was dead serious, that his fears were very
real so I didn't make light of it.

"Well Ryan, sometimes you learn as you go. Hopefully your first time will
be with someone who's understanding and gentle with you. And it's okay to
tell someone that it's your first time." He pondered that for a moment then
asked,

"Have you ever been with someone when it's their first time Matt? I bet
you'd be really good at that, helping someone learn. You've certainly been
helpful with me so far." I thought back to a couple of encounters I'd had,
one with a 17 year old boy. I wondered about sharing that information with
him and in keeping with my efforts to maintain honesty, I did. Ryan didn't
appear shocked by my honest but did ask,

"Isn't that illegal Matt, being with someone under age?" I nodded my head,
said that it was, then explained the how's and why's of gay boys that seek
out men for their first sexual encounter and the high rate of suicide in
gay boys under the age of 17. I also said that it wasn't any kind of
excuse, just the way things are, and while I understood the necessity of
the laws there was still an unfortunate imbalance in that in many states a
girl could give sexual consent as young as 14 while for boys it was
18. Then he asked if I'd ever been with a boy younger than 17 and I
wondered if there was more point to the question than just maintaining
conversation.

"Not as an adult, no, but when I was 17 I had a short term affair with a
boy who 13. Steven continues to send me cards every year on my birthday and
Christmas and is in a committed relationship with a guy who is a year older
than him. He continues to thank me for being there for him, for whatever
that's worth." Ryan was quiet from that point on but it wasn't long before
we arrived at our destination.

The resort was nothing more than a cluster of cabins that sat about 60 feet
directly above the beach. An extra 10 feet added by the post and stilt
foundation that kept the cabins off the damp ground and helped prevent
critters from getting in. The jumble of sun and sea bleach longs that sat
at the very edge of the sand blocked the high rollers that were common
during the winter. The tangled mass of old wood was easily 50 feet thick so
protected the cabins from everything but a tsunami. I'd stayed out there
for a couple of days during one winter storm and believe me it was an
incredible experience.

The cabin was small, a one bedroom with a bathroom, kitchenette and living
room. While they had been built in the 50's a recent renovation updated all
of the plumbing and appliances. All of the rooms except the bathroom faced
the ocean and were fronted by a narrow deck that was protected from the
over hand of the roof. The view was fantastic, 180º of Pacific Ocean that
stretched to the horizon. Ryan was all but thunderstruck.

"Oh my gosh," he exclaimed. The tide was out so a good 200 hundred feet of
sandy beach separated the log pile from where the waves were coming
in. "Can we go walk on the beach?"

"We can do anything we want to Ryan." I set our travel bag on the floor and
out we went. On the beach side of the log jam we took off shoes and socks
and walked out to water line. There were small mounts of rock, some of them
half the size of our cabin, here and there on the beach that provided a
home for barnacles and other sea life, none of which the boy had
experienced before. It was fun to watch Ryan's discoveries light up his
smooth young face. We had just missed the sun setting so couldn't spent a
lot of time out there, although it was a time where the moon was in the sky
before the sun set and it was an almost cloudless night. That meant that
the otherwise dark beach would be lit up pretty well. Still, we headed back
to the cabin but sat on the logs until the last bit of daylight was gone.

The cabins had no TV's or other electronic entertainment so as we neared
9:30 I asked Ryan if he wanted to take a shower before hitting the sack and
he asked if I was going to. I nodded my head and he said he'd take one as
well. I went first, came out with my towel wrapped around my waist and
plopped down on the sofa and gazed out at the moon lit ocean while Ryan
took his shower. I got back up, turned off the light then returned to the
sofa, enjoying the view that much more. Ryan came out of the bathroom a few
minutes later and said,

"Whoa, how come the lights are off Matt?" He answered his own question in a
second. "Wow that's kinda awesome looking." He sat on the other end of the
sofa, he too still wrapped in his towel. We sat there for a good 10
minutes, sometimes silent sometimes not. I told him how amazing it was
being out on the deck during a winter storm, the size and the sound of the
waves coming in. He said he'd like to see that so of course I extended an
invitation to him to come out over a long weekend to which he sounded more
than a little excited.

"I'm gonna turn in Ryan," I finally told him, standing up. The boy stood up
as well and said that he would too. I was planning on wearing underwear to
bed, more for Ryan's comfort than my own as I generally slept nude. As we
walked through the bedroom door way he asked if I wore underwear to bed.

"I don't generally but I was going to for your sake," I told him in keeping
with my honesty policy.

"You shouldn't change what you do just for me Matt," he responded. "I don't
mind, really. In fact I often don't wear anything to bed at home,
especially in the summer." I wanted to ask him if he was sure but
resisted. I simply said "okay" and tugged my towel off but continued to
hold it at one end so that it continued to block my groin.

"Should probably hang these up so they dry," I said and went back around
the corner to do just that. As I turned to go back into the bathroom Ryan
was right there, his eyes trying not to be directed at my crotch but
succeeding only partially. I held my hand out and he handed me his towel, I
hung it up and turned just as he was turning to go back into the
bedroom. Because of the moonlight in the room I could pretty well make out
his butt, noting that it was really a pretty nice one. Of course I suppose
that an argument could be made that all boy's asses were nice ones. He
turned back toward me slightly and asked which side of the bed I wanted to
sleep on and I told him which necessitated us changing places. There wasn't
a whole lot of room so our bodies touched as we passed each other.

"The curtain cord is on your side Ryan." I watched him get to the head of
the bed then fumble around finding the cord. He was turned mostly away from
me but I could still see a little bit of his front, enough to make a guess
that the boy was endowed well enough, in fact, it appeared that he may have
been in the beginning stages of an erection. The curtain zoomed shut so
that ended that but he'd turned so that just before the last bit of light
left the room we both got a glimpse of the other and my original assessment
had been correct, the boy appeared to be very nicely hung.

We climbed into bed, both lying on our backs with the blankets pulled up
about our nipples, not saying anything. Finally Ryan said,

"It's kind of weird Matt. I never laid in bed naked with another guy
before." I asked if he was okay with that or did we need to put clothes
on. He was quick to answer no it was okay, just different. "Besides,
nothing's going to happen, right." Okay, that got my interest. It didn't
exactly sound like he was looking for reassurance. I rolled to my side and
faced him.

"Not unless you want something to happen Ryan," I said softly. He looked at
me briefly then returned his gaze to the ceiling, his arms behind his
head. He didn't say anything for a long moment. My eyes had adjusted to the
very limited light and I glanced downward slightly. The barely noticeable
lump at his groin was longer and I was very sure that the boy was
hard. Finally he said,

"No, that's alright Matt. Goodnight." And he rolled to his side facing the
wall and not me. I rolled back to my original position, on my back. It was
quiet for about a minute that Ryan said softly,

"Matt." I answered with a yeah. "I'm really glad we're here, that you're
spending time with me. Thank you."

"You're welcome Ryan. I'm really glad we're here too."

I finally drifted off to sleep only to wake up about fifteen minutes later
to the feel of the mattress changing. Ryan had gotten out of bed and I
assumed that he was going to the bathroom. No sounds came from the bathroom
and after a good 5 minutes I slid out of bed and went to the door. It would
have been very interesting indeed if the boy was jacking off in the living
room. The curtains were still wide open and the almost full moon cast
plenty of light into the room. Ryan was sitting at one end of the sofa
propped up on the arm. It sounded like he was crying but very softly. I
watched for about a minute then moved toward the living room. If he heard
me approach he didn't say anything.

I reached him and stood directly behind the sofa, behind Ryan. He was
sitting on one hip, leaned over and propped on the sofa arm with his
forearm, his knees drawn up and his legs bent beneath him. I could see his
balls hanging down behind him, a fairly large and apparently hairless sac
of eggs. I didn't say anything but let my hand rest gently on his
shoulder. That he didn't flinch told me that I hadn't startled him. Neither
of us said anything but I heard him sniffle then wipe his cheeks with the
back of his hand. Finally he spoke in a barely a whisper.

"I'm so fucking confused Matt!" Until then Ryan hadn't used a curse word or
even a slang word so I knew how serious the situation was. A lot of little
things began to make sense so I also pretty much knew what it was
about. But I wasn't going to ask him. He needed to put voice to it on his
own. I gently squeezed his shoulder then walked around and sat at the other
end of the small sofa. I tried not to focus on the rack of nuts hanging
from between his closed thighs as though they were trying to escape.

"I've had these thoughts and feelings that I don't understand and there's
no one to talk to or ask about them. I wonder if there's something wrong
with me. And then I meet you and you're so open about things and
comfortable with things, at least it seems that way. Seeing you in your
underwear today was like, I dunno, hot for me. I wanted to look at you,
wanted you to look at me, I mean, you know, really look. I guess I was
hoping that by being in bed together naked that, well, maybe you would
like, try to do something with me. That was why I said what I said, hoping
that you'd do something, touch me, anything. It's too hard for me to make
that move Matt, to be forward or confident enough or whatever, to try and
start something. If I was wrong, if you rejected me I'd feel worse that I
already did." The words came out in sort of a rush and still I didn't say
anything. I didn't have to because Ryan went on.

"And now, I'm sitting here cryin like a baby with my nuts hanging out like
a couple of peaches on a tree." I thought that peaches were an apt
description given their size and pinkness. He finally looked over his
shoulder at me. I reached an arm out to him and said,"

"Come here." He didn't move for a couple of heartbeats then turned toward
me and moved down the couch and I couldn't help but see at least 8 inches,
maybe more, of pale teenaged cock hanging between his legs. I put both arms
out then enveloped him, resting his head on my shoulder. One of his arms
went around my side the other rested on my leg. It wasn't a comfortable
position by any means but it would serve the purpose which was to comfort
him. I ran my hand through his hair, pushing it back off his forehead,
repeating the action 3 or 4 times, much as my mother did to me when I was
little. I could feel the dampness from his tears but didn't move to wipe
them away. He stopped crying and after a bit heaved a big sigh.

"If you were over 18 Ryan I would have made a serious pass at you a long
time ago, maybe even have gotten you into bed by now. You're a really cute
boy, not to mention a sweet boy, but the fact remains that you're a minor
and there is no way that I could have initiated any form of sexual contact
with you. And it doesn't matter that you wouldn't say anything; it's still
too big of a risk for me to take, especially in this day and age. That is
why I said what I said to you, in the hope that you would have understood
what I was saying."

Ryan nodded his head slightly then said that he understood. Then he moved
away from me enough to look up into my eyes. With a half smile on his face
he said, "Thanks Matt." I leaned down and put my lips against his and
kissed him softly. My hand was resting on his chest, the palm covering one
of his nipples.

"That was nice," he whispered when I broke the kiss, our eyes still
locked. I kissed him again, this time I stayed there and moved my lips
against his. Ryan responded slightly, still self conscious about his lack
of experience. I let my hand drop down to his belly button then further
down until my fingertips found his pubic nest. I rubbed them there for just
a moment before sliding down into the base of his cock then slipped my
fingers underneath it and held it in my hand. He had started to harden but
it was still mostly a soft pliable tube of flesh; a nicely thick one
too. As I squeezed him for the first time he pushed his lips harder against
mine and moved his upper leg farther out to open himself up for me.

Ryan hardened quickly under my grip and was about half way to full
tumescence when I let go and worked my fingers under his balls, which were
resting in a puddle skin on the sofa cushion. He broke the kiss and gasped
sharply.

"They really are like peaches." I said quietly as I hefted and gently
fondled the heavy sperm makers, noting their lack of hair, wondering what
that was about exactly. Ryan's hand moved away from my waist and went to my
lap and immediately found my own rising dick and did as most males do;
explored it by squeezing up and down its length then handling my balls much
like I was handling his.

I finally let go and pushed off of the sofa, at the same time gently
pushing Ryan into a sitting position leaning back against the sofa
cushions. I got to the floor between his feet and pushed his knees wide
open. The room was bright enough to see fairly clearly and what I saw was
the Ryan was a very healthy boy. His cock stood proud and firm in front of
him, the swollen head covering his belly button. Sitting like he was, his
nuts still rested on the sofa. I took hold of his raging hard on and pulled
it toward me while I leaned forward to meet it. I stroked him a couple of
times then lowered my head and closed my mouth over the apple sized head
and proceeded to give the cute teenager his first blow job.

"Ooohh Gawd Matt," he moaned. His body stiffened initially but the boy
relaxed and went with it. I tried to take more of him into my mouth but as
I said, he was thick, almost coke bottle thick (the 12 oz size not the
quart). I let my tongue explore the soft silky texture of his cock head,
licking up the precum that was leaking out, fairly profusely. It didn't
take a whole long time, and what boy's first cock sucking does, before he
mumbled that he was going to cum. I took my mouth away and proceeded to
jack him off, my other hand beneath his balls as if to encourage them to
give up their nectar.

About 30 seconds later he moaned loudly, his cock thickened against my
fingers, his body stiffened again and he shot. Boy oh boy did he
shoot. Five healthy streams of warm boy sperm, the first of which left a 6
inch streak of white that started at his shoulder blade and went
downward. With each squirt bits and pieces and globs of cum fell away from
the main blob, leaving droplets all over his torso along with the slashes,
as well as running down over his cock head onto my fingers. After the
initial 5 squirts the stuff continued to ooze out of his slit in a steady
flowing stream of sticky white goo. As it slowed down, globs of sperm
continued to burp out and follow the rest of it, all but what stuck to my
fingers, dropping off into his pubic hair and lower belly. The kid made
more cum that I did. I could easily envision it pouring out of a cunt like
so much cream from a container. Or an asshole for that matter, which at
this time seemed more likely than a cunt.

I slowed down but continued to milk him until nothing came out then gently
let go, letting it rest against his belly. I looked up and saw that Ryan's
eyes were still closed, his still chest rising and falling as though he
just worked out, which I guess he sort of had. I sat back on my haunches
and slowly stroked my own cock, not so much as to cum but more for
something to do while the spermed out boy in front of me recuperated from
his first cum at the hand of another. Ryan finally opened his eyes, kind
of, and looked at me. A lazy smile formed on his lips.

"That was pretty incredible Matt," he said. Then he looked at the cum, now
cooling and starting to run, that splattered his nicely defined
torso. "Goddamn what a mess." I was surprised at curse #2. My answer was to
get up and retrieve a hand towel from the bathroom then kneel next to Ryan
on the sofa and clean the stuff off. As I did it he reached up and cupped
my balls then stroked my cock. When I was done I tossed the spermy cloth
onto the floor but stayed where I was to allow the boy to explore as much
as he wanted or needed to.

"I really want to suck your dick Matt," he said, not taking his eyes off of
what he was doing. "I just don't know how to do it."

"Well," I responded, "unless this was just a one time flash in the pan I
would guess that you're going to have plenty of opportunity to both learn
and practice the art of cock sucking Ryan."

Ryan shook his head. "No, this wasn't a one time deal. How do I do it?" I
explained it to him and he looked up to see what I meant then slid down on
the sofa. As he did that I threw one leg over his waist and straddled his
lap to help him out.

"You're pretty big Matt," he said as he faced my crotch. As I said, Ryan
was bigger than me and when I'd measured myself at the ripe old age of 17
my dick was a little over 7½ inches. "I've never seen an uncircumcised dick
before," he said as he slid my foreskin back and forth over my swollen cock
head. Being a physician my father didn't particularly believe in cutting
boys but his belief was for practical and not religious reasons. I'd been
fairly popular in that regard with classmates in the shower rooms as well
as boys and men that I'd played with.

Ryan did a credible job, bobbing his head in and out taking a good 3-4
inches of me inside. He also allowed his tongue to explore my cock head a
little bit as he suckled. Looking down, seeing the long lashes resting on
his smooth but slightly flushed cheek bones and the pink of his lips
wrapped around my dick was an exhilarating sight. I hadn't been with a
teenage boy for a couple of years, maybe more, so I thoroughly enjoyed
it. Ryan's free hand was on my hip but moved backwards onto my butt cheek
and rubbed a little bit but he was so concentrated on sucking my cock that
he forgot the butt part and his hand stilled. His other hand, however, held
onto my cock and slowly stroked as I he sucked and in that process slid my
foreskin up over my cock head and let his tongue explore the nipple of
skin.

Like most boys new to cock sucking Ryan's mouth got tired and he had to
stop which didn't stop him from licking around my cock head. I wondered
briefly if he'd read or seen something to give him the idea or if it was
Mother Nature taking over. Not that it mattered one little whit. I finally
elected to take over however or we'd be there till the cows came home.

I reached down and took hold of my cock and Ryan let me take it. "It will
take forever for me to cum Ryan," I said by way of explanation and he
nodded his head. I started to move off of his lap but he told to stay if I
wanted to. I told him I'd end up cumming on him but he said that was
okay. I thought that a little out of character for a boy that was new to
boy-boy sex but figured that perhaps getting cummed on was possibly one of
his jack off fantasies.

I began to work my dick, running the foreskin back and forth over the
sensitive swollen head. "You can play with my balls if you want Ryan; that
might help speed things up." He raised his hand and cupped my nuts then
began gently squeezing and tugging on them. I imagined that he was doing to
me what he did to himself assuming that I'd like it as much as he did. I
did. It didn't take too long before I felt myself get there.

"I'm gonna cum soon Ryan so unless you want it on your face you better
move." He slid upward but continued to fondle my balls while his other hand
rubbed my butt. "Here it is," I finally said and pulled my foreskin all the
way back while slowing my stroke. The first emission was a glob of sperm
that sort of burped out and fell on his lower belly. The second one had
more power and shot out, landing on his upper chest and the 3rd did almost
the same thing. The one after that fell much shorter and after that it was
mostly oozing globs that fell on his lower belly and adding to the puddle
of cream.

I slowed day down, allowed my foreskin to ride back over the head, milking
my cock while riding the ultra sensitive feelings just a little longer. I
finally let go and replaced the boy's hand on my nuts since he'd let go of
them. I squeezed my balls a couple of times.

"Wow Matt, that was pretty cool," he said and indeed it was. There's
something about spraying a boy with your own sperm that's really hot for
most guys and I was no exception to that rule. Ryan put his finger forward
and I watched the movement as he touched the tip to the end of my cock
where sperm had puddled a little in the opening of my foreskin. He pulled
it back and put the spermy fingertip to his mouth and swiped it off with
his tongue.

"Doesn't taste any different than mine," he said. That was most likely
true. After the age of maybe 14, sperm tasted pretty much the same at least
to me. Younger boys though, early sperming boys, seemed to taste different.
I could be off base but that was my perception.

"Let me get the towel and clean you off Ryan," I said and moved from above
him.