Date: Wed, 16 Jan 2008 14:31:21 -0600 From: Charles Hughes Subject: JUST ORDINARY GUYS - Chapters 4 & 5 This story is fiction, describing the developing friendship of two young boys, including their sexual experiences. If you are not 18 years of age, or if it illegal for any reason for you to read such material, you are to leave now. Copyright 2008, Charles Hughes All rights reserved I will try to answer all emails: the.empty.room@hotmail.com JUST ORDINARY GUYS - Chapter 4 None of the guys at school was surprised when James tried out for the Summer League baseball team on one of the Saturdays right before school ended. The seventh graders went outside during gym class in the spring to play ball, and James had become known as a good pitcher, and he was even better at bat. So at the tryouts, he was chosen right away. Danny, in a different gym class, had decided to improve his skills at baseball during those games with his class, and James had begun to help him with some batting practice at the park once the weather got better. At the tryouts Danny wasn't placed right away, but he wasn't one of the last, either. When they were walking home after the tryouts they were both excited. As soon as school was out, they'd get uniforms. And they didn't mind the dust and grit on their jeans and t-shirts from the tryouts, even though they both knew they'd hear about it from their moms. "Hey, James," Danny said. "Why do they call it 'tryouts' when everybody who shows up gets on the team? It's not like anybody's not going to get on the team." "Don't know. I guess the coach is trying to see what everybody can do. Steve will be a starting pitcher, you wait and see," James answered. Steve had been in the seventh grade with them the previous year, though they'd not had any classes with him. "He looks like a ballplayer!" Danny said. "Those shoulders give him that swing..." Danny stopped before he said too much. He wondered what Steve looked like under those jeans and t-shirt. Too bad the league teams couldn't use the school showers. Didn't make any sense to any of them, but they would play on the middle school ball diamond but weren't allowed to use the school locker room or showers. James was thinking about Steve, too. In his mind he ran through the boys who had been there. There were a couple of cute guys just out of the sixth grade... Whoa. What's this "cute guys" shit. I can't think like that! I got to stop this! But running the catalogue of faces and bodies through his mind had made his dick start to stiffen. Glancing at his best friend beside him and hoping he didn't notice only made it worse. They parted as Danny went into his house and James continued down the street. No sleepover tonight, Danny thought. He wasn't finished reading that book for English, and his mom wouldn't allow it. Danny stripped in the bathroom and looked at himself in the full length mirror on the back of the door. Well, he was dirty, all right. But the body under the dirt had started growing a little. Hadn't it? The boys were almost exactly the same height now. Danny flexed his arms and grinned. No Mr. America yet, but there were some muscles there that had gotten a little bigger during the school year. Gym class probably helped with that, he thought, all the exercises and climbing they had to do during the winter. He turned so he could see his back and tried to see some muscle there. Maybe. His butt, he grinned to himself, was nice and round. Maybe the exercises in gym had helped with that. He turned to face the mirror again. His dick had stiffened, and he got it fully hard with a few strokes. A little over four inches now. He'd measured it a couple of times. He would have been embarrassed for anyone to know that, but no one did. Least of all James. He grinned again. Maybe the exercises with my hand had helped there, too, he thought. He couldn't tell from the locker room and showers just how long some of the other dicks were. When they were floppy they came in all different sizes, which had surprised him. A couple of guys looked kind of long when they were soft, so they'd probably be really long when they were hard. So, what did four inches mean? Was that... normal, or what? What size would James be? Had he ever measured his? And some of the guys in his gym class who were in the eighth grade were starting to get hair down there. When would his start? Did James have any hair yet? He didn't even bother with feeling guilty for thinking about James -- or other boys -- now. He stepped in the shower and began to lather up. He was gay. So what? He's just an ordinary guy who happens to be gay. That's just the way it is. He knew it. Danny could never ever let anyone discover his secret, but it was true. He really liked thinking about good-looking guys and what they might look like, what they might do... He ran through his head some of the dicks from the shower room in gym as he stroked. Damn it. What would James look like? He tried to keep his jacking slow, but that point came when he just had no control over it. He had to pump fast, need to, couldn't stop it... His dick shot out a nice stream of it this time, followed by a couple of drops. It never lasted long enough. By the time school was over for the year it had already gotten pretty warm. But that's the way they liked it. They biked with their shirts off and sometimes shot hoops or joined a pick-up game at the park where almost everybody took his shirt off. It was just what ordinary guys do, James told himself. He really liked being shirtless, but he'd never said anything about it. It just felt so good! Besides, he thought, he looked pretty good from the shoulders down to his waist. "You always tan better before I do!" Danny called over to James as they pedaled around at the edge of town one day. "How come?" "I don't know," James shrugged back. That was a lie, he knew. His mother was fair-skinned, but his father had had a nice deep complexion that made him look tanned all year round. He had gotten his father's complexion, so he tanned quickly. His dad had been filled in a car accident when he was 10. He had told Danny what had happened, but he just didn't like taking about his dad. His dad was late coming home from work one Friday evening, and his mom was starting to worry. She and James were sitting on the front porch when a police car pulled into their drive. She told James to stay on the porch and went out to talk to them, and when she came back she told him what had happened. They cried together. James didn't even remember the funeral very much. He remembered that he had spent a lot of time in his room crying. Summer meant time to ride longer. There was an old factory at the edge of town that had been empty for years. The boys didn't know what had been made there, but the big empty parking lot was a great place to ride around and try some fancy bike manouvers, and a loose fence in the back made it easy to get into the grounds. They weren't supposed to be there, they knew, so they had to keep it a secret. When they were poking around the previous summer they had found a broken door and gotten into the building to look around. This time they went straight to the building to see how things had fared during the winter. The bottom floor had some old rusting equipment sitting around, and the other two floors were just littered with junk. The rusting machinery on the first floor didn't really interest them much anymore, so they carefully went up the concrete steps to the second floor where there were rooms that had probably been offices. Last summer Danny had sat at one of the old metal desks and pretended to be the boss as James reported on all the fantastic creations that were being manufactured below. But that had kind of been kid stuff. It all looked pretty much the same, except maybe there were a few more windows broken out. In one of the rooms, however, they found something that had not been there before. A mattress was lying on the floor, and some beer bottles were scattered around it. "Whoa," James said. "Looks like somebody moved in." "Looks like they moved out again, too," Danny said. "Hey, look here." He pointed to the floor at one side of the mattress. "What's that?" James came over to see. Danny was pointing to a used condom. "That's a... a rubber," James stammered. Danny had heared the word at school and knew what it was for, but he had never seen one. "Used, too," James said. There was clearly some dried cum inside it. "That's cum," James said. He immediately blushed. "That is?" Danny asked, stooping to look closer. He'd seen his own dried cum before, sometimes on his belly if he fell asleep before he wiped it off, and sometime on his boxers. He tried to wash those out before his mom got to them. He wondered what his cum would look like if there was a whole puddle of it. He leaned a little closer, wondering what a whole lot of cum together looked like. "Don't touch the fucking thing!" James said. Danny looked at him and started laughing at his choice of words. James had a blank look on his face for a second and then he got it. He laughed, too. "Oh, damn -- fucking thing!" Danny was giggling almost uncontrolably. "Fucking... thing..." "Fucking... aw shut up! Fucking thing..." James backed over to the wall to keep from falling over. "Well," he said, "at least we know... why there's a mattress here." He finally calmed down. "Who do you think it was? Maybe some high school kids?" "Don't know. But they've been long gone," Danny said. "Not too long gone, though," James said, picking up one of the bottles next to the mattress. "Not as much dust on this one." "Fuck!" Danny said. "Put that filthy thing down!" James held it up. "A toast! Here's to the visitors in our factory. Hope they had a fucking great time fucking!" Danny laughed. James tipped the presumably-empty bottle in front of his face, pretending to drink from it, and almost half of the bottle spilled out onto his bare chest and his jeans. "Aw, shit! Aw fuck it!" James threw the bottle into a corner. And slapped at his chest and belly trying to get it off. Danny was laughing again, so hard he could hardly speak. "Oh, man... you stink of the stuff. Your mom... is going to kill you!" "It's not funny, damn it! Help me get this stuff off." Danny stepped over and ran his hands down James' chest and belly. He realized they were just pushing the remaining beer down to his waist and into... Suddenly Danny stopped laughing. He was touching James in a way he never had before. He stepped back and turned his face away to hide his embarrassment. James had hardly noticed. "And it's on my jeans...! Aw shit! What am I going to do?" Danny turned back. "Your mom will still be at work. You can go home and take a shower, and even wash your clothes. Dry them, and she'll never know the difference." "Can't," James. "She took a day off today. She's home." Danny shrugged. "Then you can do it at my house. No problem." They went back downstairs, James' jeans swishing wetly as he moved. They got back to their bikes and went to Danny's house. By this time the jeans had partly dried, but in the heat and sun the smell was just as strong. They dropped their bikes in the backyard, and James rushed to little porch at the back door. "No! Wait a minute! You can't go in and stink up our house," Danny said. "You may be okay, but I won't! Mom will kill me, not you. Gotta take them off out here." "But the washing machine is just inside the door..." "And so'll be the stink if you go in there," Danny said. "Just take them off and leave them out here. You go up and take your shower, and I'll throw the jeans in the washing machine real fast and turn it on." "Yeah, okay." James kicked his shoes off and pulled his socks off. He dropped his jeans and stepped out of them and started to turn to the door. "Oh, damn, no!" Danny saw that James' boxers were soaked now, too. "They'll stink just as bad." And they were sticking a bit to his groin... Was that his dick through the wet cotton? "I'm not going to get naked out here!" James said. "Nobody can see anything -- look around," Danny pointed. It was true; no neighboring windows overlooked the yard. "Look, open the door, drop them, and run to the shower. You can't go in there stinking!" James turned to the door and hesitated for a moment. He pulled his boxers down and quickly stepped out of them, dropped them next to his jeans, and ran inside the open door. Danny stood for a moment. James had been naked. Those nice round butt-cheeks. His tanned back... He'd been naked, completely, totally naked. He felt a strangeness in his stomach. Naked, in the sun... He slowly picked up the clothes and went in, dropping the shoes on the floor. He stuffed the jeans and socks into the washer, holding the boxers in his hands a minute. He looked at the crotch of them. He smelled there. It was stale beer. What would it have smelled like otherwise, he wondered. He put the detergent in and started the washer. It was a small load, so it didn't take long for the washer to fill enough. The agitator inside started working, swishing and moving the clothes around. And making the machine vibrate. He pressed his groin against the vibrating maching. Danny had discovered this before, but this time it was James' clothes inside. When he opened his legs just a little, the machine was pressed right against his dick, already hard from the scene at the back door. He could feel the vibrations... oh fuck yes, that was so nice... James' clothes inside... from his body... his boxers... He kept pressing hard and clamped his lips together with his teeth so he wouldn't make a sound. Still, he started moaning quietly as his dick responded to the humming and vibrating machine to which it was pressed. He wiggled his hips a little. He was moving the underside of his dick with the inside of his thighs while the other side was massaged by the machine. Danny groaned a long and satisfied sound as his body was racked with a wonderful cum, not really like any he'd had before. His knees were weak, and he had to hold onto the washer for a minute. Then he realized his boxers were wet with cum. He went into the half-bath next to the laundry room, lowered his pants and boxers, and cleaned off with a couple of paper towels. There might be a few darker hairs starting down there. It was about time. He put his boxers in the dirty laundry bag and pulled out a dirty-but-dry pair to replace them. And upstairs in the bathroom, James was jacking his dick with the soapy suds. He had been naked, and in front of Danny. Outside, sort of. What had Danny thought of his naked body? What if it had been Danny who had spilled the beer, had stripped at the back door, had gotten naked right there... He had run to the shower with his hard dick bouncing in front of him, but Danny wouldn't have been able to see that. Just his ass... He groaned as his dick responded. "SSssssssssss..." he hissed quietly though his teeth as his dick stiffened even more and then thrashed in his hand. The tightness inside him exploded with the overpowering pleasure he loved, and he finished with a soft "Mmmmm..." As he was rinsing off, he thought, That doesn't mean I'm gay. I'm just a boy like all the guys I know, he thought. Even straight boys jack off in the shower. He wouldn't think about the fact that he'd been picturing Danny in his mind. The whole time. JUST ORDINARY GUYS - Chapter 5 Their moms were downstairs playing cards, and the boys were up in James' room trying out his "NFL Live" video game. Danny laughed and said he thought it was funny that they were playing a football game and talking about their baseball team. "Fuck football when it comes to real life," James said. "It's baseball for me." "Well, you're good enough you can say that. I really think we would have lost last weekend if you hadn't hit that last one." Danny thought James was the best on the team, but James would always insist that Steve was better. And he'd insist it was a team sport, with a place for everybody. "Okay," James said, "I hit it, but it wouldn't have done any good if Phil hadn't already gotten three guys in from the bases with that line drive they messed up. That game was won in the sixth inning, not the ninth." He gave up on the video game after a while and decided to "practice" their poker. They had taught themselves to play, with the help of a couple of books. They knew they weren't too good at it, but they liked playing cards and assumed they'd get better as they played. They liked "Go Fish," too, and poker was a lot more complicated. Soon Danny's mom called up that it was time for them to go. "Can't you stay over tonight?" James asked. "Naw, not tonight. Mom says she's going shopping in the morning and I have to go with her. She wants to get an early start." "Okay, Danny. See you at practice tomorrow afternoon?" "Sure. Nite." Danny went down, said good-night to James' mom, and left with his mom. James' mom came up and peeked in the door. "Think I'll go to bed, Jimmy." "James," James corrected. Sometimes his mom just forget; he always reminded her and assumed she'd eventually remember, at least most of the time. "Jaaames," his mom grinned, stretching the name out. "Don't stay up too late, Jaaames." "All right, maaaawm," James grinned. She closed the door, and he gathered up the cards and put them back in the box. He decided to read for a while. The boys read to each other a few times during the school year when they had books assigned, and they had continued now and then when one of them found something really good. James had decided to try "Murders in the Rue Morgue" tonight. He thought Dupin had been a pretty cool detective in "The Purloined Letter" they'd just read to each other the week before. He decided to forget the shower this evening, stripped to his boxers, and carried the book to his bed, propping up the pillows. Before he started reading, he wondered where he would hide something so no one would find it, like in that story. "You'll never find it, Danny Dupin," James thought in his mind. James imagined the "amateur detective" ransacking his room, opening drawers and looking under the mattress, frustrated at finding nothing. Glancing at the small stack of papers with his school books, Minister of... (What would he be minister of? Defense) ... Defense James gloats at the detective, "Not ever." But the clever Inspector Danny has seen the glance; he says, "Aha! I have foiled you, you dirty blackmailer. You see, I've read 'The Purloined Letter', too!" The Inspector quickly leafs through all the papers. "Homework? This is all nothing but your old homework?" "And most of it graded 'A,' you'll note, my dear detective." (This is my daydream, James thinks to himself; I can put any grades on them I want!) "Perhaps, Danny Dupin, you're not quite as good as you think you are." "You scoundrel. I know you've been blackmailing the Queen, and I will find that letter! Even if I have to strip search you." The detective stands over the Minister of Defense James, lying helplessly on his bed. The detective is a very strong man, and he yanks James' shirt from his body, popping the buttons off. He pulls James' jeans open at the waist and yanks them completely off. James is shocked at this quite improper behavior of the famous, strong, and very handsome detective; he can hardly move. Danny Dupin slowly moves his hands up the inner legs and thighs of his suspect; he reaches for the hems on the legs of James' white boxers and yanks them down to his ankles. "Yes!" Danny says triumphantly. "I've wanted to see you that way for a long time! Now you can hide nothing from me! I can see it all!" He looks down at James' hard dick, its smooth, round head, big and red and pointing to the ceiling. James reached down to his dick as he imagines Danny reaching out for it... James' hand strokes it faster. It feels like a red-hot poker in his hand, hard and strong, and he wants Danny to admire it. James' face contorts in what might have looked like pain, but it was that most intense pleasure deep inside him, a pleasure increased immeasurably by the imaginary Danny's admiration of his proud sex. James' gut clenched and his legs tensed. The heat of his boyhood raced from his insides to his dick, up the hard shaft, forcing the little pisshole open... And he... "Ahhhhhhh fuck ooooooooooooo..." James tried to keep quiet, but his whispers echoed in his room. When the surge of pleasure subsided a little, he looked down at his dick. Oh my god! He had really cum. It wasn't a daydream. The light above him reflected off the drops of whitish, watery cum on his fingers! He moaned in the afterglow of the pleasure. He brought his fingers to his mouth and licked it, real cum, his first cum. It was good. It was his. He pulled his boxers up and lay still for a while, the taste of his sex in his mouth. He felt completely drained. And Danny must never know he was part of the fantasy that helped him cum for the first time. He felt... he had done something he shouldn't have. Not the jacking off; surely ordinary guys did that. Not the cumming; they did that, too. Well, when they were old enough. (Is Danny?) It was that he had made Danny a part of this. Boys did not dream of boys when they jacked off. That was what girls were for. That had been made fully clear in the locker room at school. He felt his mind wince at the possibility of what he didn't want to think about. He couldn't help it. Thinking the way he did, imagining like he did, looking at them the way he did. It was a nasty thing, to be a queer. They all said that. It was clearly wrong; boys were supposed to dream of -- have sex with -- girls. Marry them. Make babies. Boys and boys... it wasn't right. But what if you couldn't help it? he wondered. What if it was so... wonderful thinking of boys, looking at them, wanting to... do things with them. No. With Danny. He needed Danny in his life, he knew that. Without Danny, he'd go back to being that quiet, isolated, lonely boy he used to be in grade school. He couldn't lose his friend. He couldn't let him know that when he... pretended sex, it was with Danny. He slept and dreamed troubled dreams that left him tired the next morning. They biked to the movie theater a couple of afternoons later to catch a matinee. James paid little attention as he sat in the dark next to Danny. He glanced at his face now and then in the fickering light. And for the next several days he was cautious in what he said and did around him. Would Danny suspect something? Now that he could cum, was there something that would give him away? He refrained from jacking off for a few days. Then he woke early one morning at the end of his first wet dream. He had been dreaming, and there was pain... He was fully awake quickly, even as his dick shot out the last of a small load of cum. It had rushed out so quickly it had actually caused just a little pain in his dick. Was that normal? he wondered. Was something wrong with him, to do it without his hands and in his sleep? He went to the public library that morning. He knew his way around enough that he only needed to ask the librarian for help once, and he kept that in very general terms. Eventually he found a whole shelf of books on adolescent sexuality. He wouldn't check them out; that would be too embarrassing. The librarian probably wouldn't even let him have them! But he took them to a corner table and spent a long time reading. There were sections in some of the books on homosexuality. He read those carefully, too. By the time he finished reading, sometime after lunch, he had learned a lot about himself. And it was not all just about what sex was and how the body worked. There was no question now, he supposed. He was different. He wasn't just an ordinary guy anymore. He was gay. He had to rush to get to practice and didn't have time to run home to find something to eat. And he was in trouble from the first. He was late, for one thing, and the coach did not tolerate that. Three laps around the perimiter of the field -- and it was hot! He just wasn't paying attention, the coach said, when James missed catches, struck at balls obviously too far out. The coach finally told James to just sit on the bench and watch for a while. Watch! James thought to himself. Just what was it he was supposed to be watching? Boys, of course! He wished he could be different than the different he knew he was! The coach had no idea. He watched Steve for a while, built perfectly to be an athlete. The coach wouldn't let them practice shirtless, but James had seen Steve shirtless at the park a lot during the summer. He had a perfect build for someone who was thirteen -- going on 18! He was beautiful. That was the word: beautiful. Phil was almost 11 and among the youngest on the team; in fact, he was on the team only because the coach stretched a point; you were supposed to be 11 already. And Phil was just plain cute. That was the word, James thought: cute. And fuck all, there was nothing wrong with his saying... well, thinking it. Phil's baseball cap shaded his face a little, but his cheeks and lips were visible. When he swung at the ball his little body was a demonstration of what "cute boy" really meant. James held his cap in front of his face for a minute and wiped a tear of frustration from his eye. Can you be anything else than what you are? Sammy, at 14 a year older than James and very tall, had a walk that said, Come see what I've got. James wanted to see it. It probably had lots of hair and could cum buckets. Bobby Lee was either 12 or 13, James wasn't sure. He wasn't cute, but he sure had nice smooth skin without a blemish on it. Now there was a boy James had seen naked. They'd been in the same gym class, the same locker room, the same shower. That smooth skin was just as nice on his chest and around his hairless dick and around his smooth, round butt... Neal was the same age as Phil but smaller. Not yet cute, but soon. Except for his pert little round ass. That was cute already. Well, his eyes, too. Okay, his grin, too. See, James said to them all in his mind. It's just me, guys. Just your ordinary guy. Just your ordinary seventh grader who happens to be queer. Who will never fit in. Just your ordinary gayboy... Oh, fuck! He slapped his cap back onto his head. He decided to get a drink from the fountain and stood up. Suddenly, everything blurred, and he got dizzy. He staggered once and then fell to the ground. When he awoke just a minute later, everyone was standing around him, and the coach was washing his face with a wet cloth. "Jason, go get a bottle of water out of the cooler over there," the coach directed. To James he said, "Take it easy, James. You just got too hot. Shouldn't have made you run those laps. What did you have for lunch?" "Uh..." James started. His voice was weak and sounded tiny. "Uh, I didn't have lunch... missed it..." "Empty stomach, too," the coach said. "Now, Steve, go over to my duffle and get a couple of power bars. Here, James, let's get you over here where there's shade." He walked James over to a picnic table under a small tree, and all the boys followed along. "Somebody sit here with him for a while..." the coach started. "I will." James heard Danny's voice. "...and just sit with him. Get him more water after he eats those power bars. Okay, Danny, you stay here with him. Make sure he drinks that second bottle of water. And the rest of you guys, let's get back to practice. Come on." The boys followed the coach out onto the field, some looking back over their shoulders. Danny sat next to James. "Hey, James, are you all right? What happened?" "Just like he said, I guess," James answered slowly. "Just too hot." Danny took a towel that had been on the bench and started to wipe James' face and neck. "Don't!" James said. "I don't need that. Just let me... sit." "There's something wrong, James..." "Yes! There's something wrong! Wrong as hell! Wrong as in 'all fucked up'!" James voice was weak but angry. Then, beyond his control, tears came to his eyes. He grabbed the towel from Danny and tried to wipe his eyes, but he gave up and just held the towel over his face. And he cried. He wasn't loud, but his shoulders shook. "Oh, James. What's the matter? Don't. James, what is it?" Danny was frightened. What was going on? He'd never seen James cry. Ever. "Nothing's... nothing's wrong," came James muffled voice. "But you said..." Danny started. "No, no, nothing. The sun. Just got too hot. No lunch. You heard what the coach said." Danny sat with him for a while, and eventually James wiped his face with the towel. His face was red, his eyes swollen. "James," Danny said quietly. "I'm your best friend. I'm your brother. I just want you to be... okay." "I know," James sighed. He gave Danny a weak smile. "I'll be okay in a minute. Just... Just stay with me here for a minute, will you?" "Sure," Danny said, placing his arm around James' shoulder. James stiffened for a moment, and then he relaxed. The two boys sat there in the shade until practice was over. They walked their bikes home, since James wasn't sure he felt like riding yet. They didn't speak, James because he didn't want to and Danny because he didn't know what to say. They stopped in front of James' house, and he turned to Danny. "Danny, you're my blood brother, and blood brothers are for ever. Right?" "Uh, yeah. Sure," Danny said. James turned and walked his bike around into his backyard, Danny staring at him until he turned the corner of the house. James was never like this, Danny thought. Something was wrong. He felt that feeling in the pit of his stomach that he got when something was wrong. And he didn't like it. No, he didn't like it at all.