April 25, 1996
“Claire was telling me that she and her boyfriend wrestle,” Eric said as he straddled me, just gaining the upper hand as his bed creaked and groaned underneath our intertwined bodies. “She came to class with a broken wrist last week,” he said.
“Wait, who’s Claire again?” I asked as Eric interlaced our fingers. I pushed him off to the side. Neither of us were feeling particularly competitive, but we were just trading holds, basically. I climbed over him and spread his feet apart with mine.
Eric rolled us back over. “Claire Ochoa. I could have sworn I’ve told you about her. She’s in my math class with Mr. Bryant.” I looked at Eric blankly, not making the connection. “She’s goth?” Eric said, and I remembered, giving him a look that said oh, right, her. “She likes that I have a metal ruler, she calls it my sword,” Eric giggled. “I asked how she broke her wrist and she said she was wrestling her boyfriend,” he said. “The way she said it, too, not wrestling with my boyfriend, but wrestling my boyfriend.”
I gave Eric a wry smile. “Did it make you hot, right there in class?” I asked. We broke apart and reset on our knees. “Undies?” I asked, in the shorthand way we asked if we were ready to take our underwear off.
Eric nodded and pulled off his briefs — he and I were both pretty hard. “A little, she is kinda cute,” Eric teased.
I playfully swatted at his cock. “Mmm, my man likes his tiny goth girls,” I said. “Maybe I’ll take a Sharpie and paint my fingernails black,” I joked.
Eric suddenly looked at me, almost deadly serious. “You’d do that?” he asked.
I realized he was serious. “Sure! Why not,” I said. “Just for you.” I found the lotion and stroked myself and Eric with it, getting us nice and slippery. Eric launched himself at me, knocking me flat, his tongue plunging down my throat. I guess he does like the goth look, I thought.
Eric suddenly came up into cobra position. “Wait — there’s something I wanted to try,” he said, and climbed off me, his hard cock waggling in front of him. He went into his desk drawer, and produced two thick black rubber bands. “I had this idea,” he said. “I jacked off like this once, and I lasted a really long time,” he said. “I was thinking it would be good when we’re edging.” We did finally learn the correct term after we came back from camping.
Eric tossed me one of the rubber bands and it landed on my chest. I watched him stretch it out and encircle the base of his cock and around the back of his ball sac. “Here,” he said, and he climbed over me, straddling my thighs, and stretched the band around my cock and balls.
“It doesn’t feel much different,” I said, “but it really makes your cock look amazing,” I said truthfully. “You look so big and strong,” I said, my cheeks reddening. “Where did you find these?”
“I dunno, in the garage,” Eric said, as he adjusted his straddling position on top of me, our cocks starting to rub against each other. It’s true that I didn’t feel the sense of needing to cum quite as urgently, despite having saved up a load for Rotary Night for nearly a week. We stayed in that position for a little while, Eric on top of me, and then we switched. “Can I ask you a question?” Eric asked, rolling onto his back.
“Always,” I said, as I climbed over Eric.
“Do you think we need to keep our relationship a secret anymore?” Eric asked.
I sat up, our cocks barely touching, as I thought, my hands on my thighs. “I mean, no, it doesn’t need to be a secret,” I said. “I know, like, I probably don’t want to go broadcasting that we’re gay and having sex, but … if someone asked me ‘hey are you dating Eric,’ I would answer honestly yes,” I said. “I wouldn’t even hesitate.”
“That’s what I told Claire,” Eric said. “Don’t be mad.”
A flush of cold washed through me, but disappeared just as quickly. “What did you say?”
“Claire asked if I was dating anyone, and I said no at first, but then I thought that was unfair to you and said ‘well yes, maybe, Bobby Maynard.’”
“What did she say?” I asked.
“She didn’t know who you were,” Eric said. “She changed the subject pretty quickly.”
Even though the conversation was turning serious, the rubber bands had the added effect of keeping my boner at full strength. “Well, it’s out there now,” I said. “Nothing we can do about it. It’s the truth, we’re dating, we’re obviously having sex —” I gestured broadly, indicating that I indeed was astride my naked boyfriend — “so yeah, I mean, it’s cool. We’re us, we’re here, we’re together. I’m cool with it.”
Eric grinned, and I leaned down and kissed him. I was almost certain he could feel my heart pounding.
“Can I ask you another question?” Eric asked.
“Always,” I repeated, meaning it.
“I was going to ask you tonight if you wanted to actually, like, have sex,” Eric said.
“Like … butt sex?” I asked.
Eric nodded, smiling. “I, uh —” Eric sighed. “I’ve wanted to say this for a long time, but Bobby I want you to fuck me,” Eric said, somewhat matter-of-factly. Hearing him say the F word after years of self-censorship was like a thunderclap inside the room. Eric saw me hesitate for just a second, and he started to babble. “In the shower, I’ll sometimes, like, get a finger up there, sometimes two. I took a shower just before you got here and I got really clean, I promise. I skipped lunch. I read a thing that said coconut oil was really good for it, and we had some in the kitchen so I put a little in a Ziploc bag and it’s in the nightstand and —”
I put a hand on Eric’s bare chest. “Eric, yes, stop, yes, I’m ready, let’s … um … how do we do it?” I asked.
My hand kept him from bashing me in the forehead again as he started to get up. I climbed off him, and he got a towel and the baggie of coconut oil. “OK, OK,” Eric said, taking a deep breath. “OK, I’m gonna get on all fours, and you get behind me,” Eric said. “And go slow, like super slow,” he said. He handed me the baggie. “Wait, go wash the lotion off,” he said.
I chuckled, because it was clear Eric had thought all this out and was still an anxious bundle of energy about it. It was ridiculously cute. I found a washcloth and wiped my cock clean, and opened the baggie. I climbed up on the bed and sort of dipped my cock into the bag, rather than pour it out and make a mess. I used the baggie itself to get enough of it all around — I got my cock very very oily, just in case.
I had an idea just then, and Eric had sort of hung his head forward. It occurred to me in that moment that I had never seen Eric’s butthole before, and it was just as smooth as the rest of him was. It wasn’t gross at all, just skin. I got some of the coconut oil on my thumb, and I spread it around Eric’s hole, and pressed against it a little, just to see what it felt like. It surprised me when Eric moaned.
“Are you in?” Eric said earnestly.
I laughed a little. “That was just my thumb,” I said. “Are you ready?” I asked. “I’ll go super slow.”
“I’m ready,” Eric said, slightly disappointed, after a deep breath.
I lined up my cock with Eric’s hole, and pressed my oily head against his tight little ring. I started to push, and I was afraid to push harder, because I didn’t want to hurt him. “Can you … can you sort of relax?” I asked. “Just a little?”
Eric breathed, and I could feel less resistance as I pressed again. I pushed further, Eric grunted, and after a few seconds I felt my head push all the way in as his hole closed around it.
“OK, my head is in … how did that feel?” I asked.
“Like an Indian burn, but not as bad,” Eric said. “You’ve never felt so big,” he chuckled.
“Should I go farther?” I asked. Eric nodded. I pushed further, and since my shaft wasn’t as big around as my head, I thought maybe it wouldn’t feel as painful, but Eric grunted the whole way. Part of me wanted to stop. “Should I stop?” I asked. I realized I was incredibly nervous that I was hurting my partner — so nervous I was barely thinking about how it felt to me.
“No, no, keep going,” he said through gritted teeth. I pushed farther, and realized that maybe I was going too slow. The last inch and a half I just pushed in until my thighs made contact with his butt.
“There,” I said. “Contact,” quoting from the docking scene in Apollo 13. We both chuckled breathily. Eric was tight, but the sensation that surprised me the most was how hot he was, in a temperature sense. “OK,” I said, and I started to pull back out, slowly. I made it all the way back out with the exception of my head, and Eric didn’t grunt that time. The sensation suddenly was incredible and new, and I pushed back in. The air was tropical and alive with the smell of coconut. I reached around and held Eric’s hips. The thrusts came more easily. Eric started to stroke himself.
If this was real sex, then what had we been doing the rest of the time? Was it just creative masturbation? I had to admit I missed the feeling of total contact with Eric’s body when we wrestled, and this was just a tiny fraction of us touching. I decided to save the philosophical considerations for later, because whatever it was, this felt really good.
I realized I was getting close to the point of no return. “I’m close,” I said, and Eric nodded. I felt the familiar rising sensation in my core. I felt my cock throb and pulled Eric’s hips toward me as far as I could go, but I was so nervous my orgasm was just a tiny pinch of pleasure. I tried not to make it sound like it didn’t feel good, so I moaned as I felt the cum pulse deep into Eric’s insides. I wanted to just collapse on top of Eric like the countless times I had before, but in this doggy-style position, I had to hold myself up as my abs shivered. “Ohmygod,” I whispered to punctuate the end of my long moan.
Eric was stroking himself and I felt his body shake suddenly, and he came all over the towel as I was still thick and hard and buried deep inside him. He planted his hand back on the towel, and pushed himself back on my cock, wiggling a little from side to side. We both laughed breathily.
I was rapidly shrinking, so I backed away slowly, and pulled my cock out entirely. A rivulet of cum and oil followed, dripping down Eric’s sac and onto the towel. Eric breathed a huge sigh of relief as I pulled out. He came down to his elbows and was breathing hard. I watched in real time as his butthole shrank into its tightened appearance it started with, albeit much redder. I got the washcloth and wiped him up, and wiped my cock. Eric turned over, sitting on the towel, his cock thick and draped over his thigh.
He looked intently at me, and I leaned in and we kissed again. “So, like, on a scale from one to ten?” I asked.
“I think this is going to take practice,” Eric admitted. “And better lube,” he added.
The next day, walking to Social Studies, I realized that if I had been a virgin before, I wasn’t now. And yet, the grass and trees weren’t any greener, and the sky was no bluer. My world was profoundly different, forever split last night between “before” and “after” and yet the rest of the world carried on none the wiser. We were finishing up a week surrounding the Reconstruction after the Civil War that I was only half listening to. Instead, I had been using a Sharpie to blacken my fingernails. When the lunch bell rang, Mr. Ferreira asked me to stay behind.
“You seemed distracted today, is everything OK?” he asked.
“Yeah, everything’s great actually, it’s just that … I guess I had a really good conversation with a friend yesterday and it’s given me a lot to think about. I’m … uh … sorry if I wasn’t paying attention,” I said.
“Is your friend Eric Watanabe?” Mr. Ferreira asked.
“Um, yes, actually,” I said.
Mr. Ferreira nodded knowingly. “I wanted to personally let you know that if you ever need anyone to talk to, please please come to me. Anytime. I’ll give you my home phone number, and please don’t ever hesitate to call if you need help. Day or night.”
I was a little taken aback — Mr. Ferreira wasn’t a teacher I felt close to, necessarily, and this was the first time he took a particular interest in me. “Thank you, um … I’m not … sure —” I started, and he held up a hand.
“Bill — Mr. Bryant — overheard a conversation with Eric and another student, and we were —” he took a deep breath. “We were talking about you both over dinner — you’re good students, but you’re both at the beginning of what we hope is a very long road together. Both of us have been where you are. I’m sharing this about myself with you because I want you to know that I trust you, and I want you to feel like you can trust us too. There are times in our lives when we need to have people that understand how we feel. But also, we need to protect each other. It’s not safe sometimes, and I suspect you know a little about that already, but you need to know that not everyone is your friend — but importantly, not everyone is your enemy, either.”
He paused and adjusted his glasses. I wasn’t sure what to say. “Thank you,” I said. “I, uh … I don’t know if my parents know, but Eric’s parents know,” I said. “And they’re happy for us, so that feels good.”
“That’s incredible and I’m so happy for you — I know my parents weren’t thrilled when they found out,” he said. “Bill tells me that Eric is a good guy, but he’s sensitive. I like having you in class, but I want to tell you you have to be gentle with your partner when they’re sensitive. They will one million percent have your back when it counts, but don’t take it for granted.”
“I don’t,” I said. I showed my teacher my fingernails. “These are for him.”
Mr. Ferreira chuckled. “Do it at lunch next time.”