Knots, Book 1
by Elias Scott
Matt and I discussed what should come next. I wanted to write about my first time with Joan Kinney, and he wanted to talk about what happened at spring football. I won. You already know I'm gay, but my first real sex was with Joan Kinney, a junior, who asked me out. I talked about her earlier. And who was I to say no? It still makes me horny thinking about it. I wanted to tell it here in order to give anyone who's reading our story more insight into what drove me before I broke my leg.
So here goes. The thing between me and Emily happened in June. Football didn't start until August. Emily made me hornier than I'd ever been, and I wanted more. Since Emily had cooled, I started dating other girls for the rest of the summer. I became more aggressive after Emily. At first, I fumbled around. Some of the girls were more experienced than me. Making out didn't do much for me at first. I'm not sure kissing for fifteen minutes without a hard-on is much fun. At least that's the way it was for me. But I got to tell you, the kissing really got hot when the first girl put their hands in my pants and rubbed my cock. My confidence shot up. (They say guys are always the aggressor, but girls mature faster than guys and some of my dates were the aggressors.) I felt their tits and put my finger in their wet pussy. At first, I was afraid I was going to put my finger in their asshole. But I knew my finger had struck gold when I felt the steamy wet hole. I soon learned it's the first one and easy to find. At first, I was so excited, I couldn't get hard. It was like my horniness was locked up and I didn't have the key. The blood just wouldn't flow to my dick. My cock had a mind of its own.
My first experiences were experimental. I became braver as I got more experience. Like I said, my cock had a mind of its own. I always had condoms just in case. Some of the girls slapped me and said they never wanted to see me again, but many of them did. You just can't tell with girls. Guess you have to strike out a few times to hit a home run.
Football started in August and Joan Kinney was at all the practices. I figured she had a boyfriend on the varsity. She wasn't bad looking and had a reputation. It never occurred to me that she might be interested in me.
A lot of us took our helmet, shoulder pads, and t-shirts off after practice. We walked around in our football pants. She must have liked what she saw because she came up to me the second week of practice and introduced herself. She talked to me every day for a few days until we were kinda like friends. Then one day, she pulled me off to the side away from the other ball players, and to my surprise, asked, "You want to go out for a Coke sometime?"
I didn't say anything at first because I was surprised that a junior would want to go out with me, even if it was for a Coke. "Yeah, sure. Why not?"
She whispered in my ear as if anyone was close enough to hear. "You can't tell anyone, okay? Meet me at the park near your house and I'll pick you up around 8:00."
"That's kind of late."
"I know, but it's got to be dark so no one will know."
I smiled at her. "What's wrong? You ashamed of me?"
"God no. You're hot. But after all, you're a freshman."
That didn't do much for my ego, but I let it go. After all, I had a date with a junior who wasn't that bad looking. Although I did wonder, why me, and not someone closer to her age? But right then, I really didn't care.
We had our Coke and she kept putting her hand on my leg and rubbing my cock under the table at this out of the way restaurant. She did the same in then in her car. "I have a place I want to show you," she said and drove to what she called her secret spot. I should have known, but little did I know I was going to lose my virginity. She said she liked the spot because you could park behind some trees for seclusion and still get enough light to see. She said, "I want to be able to see your beautiful body and big cock."
I almost crapped in my pants and came on the spot. She hadn't seen my cock so I figured she was stroking my ego, which worked quite well. We jumped in the back seat and started making out. Soon she had my dick in her hand. I'm fumbling around trying to get her clothes off while she has her hand on my dick.
"Let go," I said. "I want to get you naked." My aggressiveness surprised me.
She held on. "I love your cock. I want to hold it and suck it."
"I want you to suck it too, but let's get naked first."
She let go and I unbuttoned all her clasps and buttons and soon had her naked. This was the first time I ever got a girl completely naked. Joan had a trim body with breasts that weren't too big, but big enough. I never liked girls with big breasts. To me, they don't look normal. Anyway, she was naked. I stuck my head between her boobs and then took each nipple in my mouth, rolled my tongue over them and acted like I knew what I was doing.
"Now it's your turn big man," she said as she lifted my shirt over my head, licked my nipples, and ran her tongue over my abs. "You're awesome," she said.
I moaned and the more I moaned, the more she licked until she worked her way down to my belt, you know, the one with the big buckle. I wanted my cock in her mouth and couldn't wait, so unbuckled my pants and slid out of them. She grabbed my cock trough my shorts, pulled it out, and began sucking. Suddenly, what had been dead, came to life. It felt so hot. The warmth of her mouth on my cock was almost more than I could bear. She licked around the head and then took it deep in her mouth. I moaned and laid back as my eyes rolled back in my head. "God that feels good." I just gave into it, but had to stop her to get my shorts off. I wanted to be completely naked too. "Let me get my shorts off."
She grabbed them and pulled them down like a zipper when I put my butt in the air. "You have a beautiful cock."
My ego soared. I felt more whole than I'd ever felt in my life. I'd never experienced this much pleasure. So I let her suck until I came, which didn't take long. She looked disappointed, "what the fuck," she said. She sounded like Matt.
"Joan, don't worry," I assured her. "I can do this all night."
I leaned over, kissed her, and lay on top of her. I reached down to find her pussy and slipped my finger in. The wet warmth of her vagina recharged my cock. "I want to put my dick in that wet moist hole of your and fuck your brains out," I said. I heard of guys licking a girl's pussy, but I wasn't up for that. Well, at least not then. I'd rather suck a cock.
Once I felt the wet warmth, my mouth went wild as I gave her a deep tonguing in her mouth before I pulled back and said, "I've got to fuck you now. I'm so hot. My dick's so hard I think it's going to burst." I rubbed my cock against her stomach. She kissed me, shoved her tongue deep inside, and I got even hotter. Kissing that never seemed to do much for me suddenly made me hotter and hornier than ever.
I was like a crazy man. "Let me fuck you."
I put my cock down to her pussy and she pushed on my chest, "No entry without a condom."
"Shit." I was afraid my hard dick would go limp while I fumbled around trying to get the condom out of my wallet. As it turned out, there wasn't any way it was going to take a nosedive the way I was revved up.
I ripped the package open and handed her the condom. She leaned over, kissed the tip of my cock, and rolled it in her mouth before slipping the condom over it. Her sucking and tonguing my cock made me think I'd died and gone to heaven, but it wasn't anything compared to what I experienced next.
She spread her legs and guided me into her warm moist lubricated love canal. I'd never felt anything like it. I started pumping slowly, just getting used to the sensation as my dick glided in and out in and out. Suddenly I had the desire to kiss her and stick my tongue down her throat as deep as I was sticking my dick in her warm wet vagina. I'd never felt anything like it. I could feel my balls tightening and the greatest sensation in the world building the length of my cock and moving to the tip. Joan is moaning and saying, "Fuck me. Fuck me. Fuck me harder. That feels so good. You're so good and so hot. Oh, Oh, Oh," and then I felt her pussy pulsating on my dick and my climax began and we both climaxed together and I knew then this is what being God must feel like. It was so pure and so free of pain, disappointment, failure, or anything. I wanted it to last forever.
We did it a couple more times that night. The third time she told she wouldn't let me fuck her unless I licked her pussy. I did. It wasn't half-bad, but I think I'd rather suck a cock any day. Nothing was like the first time and it was the beginning of my never-ending hunger. Later, I realized I'd tied a new knot in my life and there were plenty more to come.
I had a great life. Plenty of girls and plenty of sex. What more could a 14 year old going on 15 ask for. The guys were always coming up to me and patting me on the back telling me I was a pussy magnet. It began to seem like it. Older girls would come up and ask to go out. I was beginning to feel like an unpaid gigolo. Sex had become my drug of choice, and like any drug, anesthetized me for a day or two and sometimes only for a moment or two, but then I wanted it again and would keep going back and back to those girls who were happy to have Andy Gibson fuck their brains out. And of course, I loved doing it.
The need to do it all again and experience the same sex I had with Joan drove me. But the God feeling only happened now and then, and if I didn't get that feeling, then the sex was unfulfilling and I'd have to do it again, hoping it would be better the next time. The addiction consumed me. All I could think about was the next time and the next time and soon as it was over, the next time. Problem was, girls like Emily or Gina were cautious about going out with me and if they did, my date was incomplete if it didn't include sex.
That's why I've talked about the movie, Kids, so many times. There was never enough. I began to think I'd have nothing if I couldn't fuck. Then I broke my leg. Sex dwindled to nothing and I no longer had football or my hero status. My life was shit. You know from our previous entries how I reacted. Hopefully, I learned something.
Andy wanted to talk about his first time so badly, I gave in. When I first started this, he didn't want to write anything, and now he's unstoppable. I was afraid the story would lose continuity (I think that's the right word) if he digressed. But I read what he wrote and it made me horny as hell.
Since Andy digressed, I think I'll digress too. When I was 14, I wasn't sure if I was gay or not. But I started giving this gay thing a lot of thought. They say a person is born gay. Because after all, who would choose to be gay. I kinda agree. Why would anyone choose to be gay? But how does a guy know? I like guys. I like looking at guys. I wouldn't mind having my cock sucked or sucking a guy's cock, but does that make me gay. I don't know. After reading about Andy and Joan, sticking my dick in a hot moist vagina sounded pretty good too. Having my cock sucked by a guy or a girl would be hot. Maybe I'm bisexual. But if you are born gay or straight, are you also born bisexual? I don't know.
I'm not sure if I have this figured out or not, but I thought I'd share my thoughts. Andy and I are in our 20's now so have a different perspective than when we were in high school. Those four years seem so short and so small in retrospect (Looking at the past from the present).
Gay porn makes me horny as hell. Hetero porn, not so much, but I think I know the reason why. We're guys and it's hard to understand what it feels like for the girl. But we can figure out what it feels like for the guy. So whether sucking on a guy's cock or sucking on a woman's tits, we identify with the guy, not the girl. At least that's what I think.
And if we are born gay or heterosexual, does our cock only want an asshole or a vagina or both. Does my cock have a mind of its own? They say guys often think with the wrong head. So born gay or not, I can't make up my mind. That's why I left Andy's the night of his 12-step seduction.
I think I'm a control freak because I've always wanted to have control over my sexuality whether gay or straight. God loves us unconditionally, so what difference does it make? After all, some politicians commit more sins in a day than most gay guys in a lifetime. Pardon my editorial comment. I couldn't help it.
Even at fourteen, I wanted to decide when and if and with whom I had sex. I've never much liked the idea that my genes are deciding for me. I know I'll have to live with whatever decision I make and believe I can do that, but not right now. Why screw everything up in my life. Tie knots in it when I don't have to. I can decide when, how, and where when I feel ready.
Yeah, sometimes I think I'm gay because I love looking at hot guys. Even like looking at their beautiful cocks in the shower. But hell, I love looking at beautiful sunsets too. A beautiful girl turns my head, but a hairy bush isn't near as beautiful as a cock, especially a hard one.
I didn't tell Andy that year how I'd love to suck his cock and have him suck mine. But then I'd have been happy to have it sucked by anyone. I heard a lot of girls don't like to suck cock. My first reaction was to say they don't know what they're missing, except I really didn't know what they're missing. Could only guess. I've even wondered what it would be like to have a dick in my ass. The closest I ever came was sticking my finger in my hole. It felt great. Does it feel any different if a guy does it or a girl? But probably like sucking cock, most girls wouldn't do it. Obviously, I have some unanswered questions. I wondered if other fourteen or fifteen year olds had the same questions I had.
Anyway, it's like I said. It's my life and I'll make the decisions even though people say you don't choose to be gay. Well, if I'm going to be gay, I'm going to decide and not say my genes or the devil made me do it.
I came close with Andy and he was still a possibility our freshman year, mostly because he's the only gay guy I knew. And like he said, we could always experiment. I wasn't into having sex with just anybody. I have to care about them. It has to mean something.
I used to surf You Tube videos when I was a freshman. Still do. Found a video my freshman year by a guy our age. He told his dad he was gay. His father didn't go crazy. Told him he'd love him no matter what. The boy was complaining because his dad suggested he wait until he was 18 before he decided if he was gay or not. The boy rolled his eyes. I'm not so sure the dad was wrong. That's why I'm waiting. Hell, I'm not even old enough to vote.
Now that I've had a chance to digress, let me get back to our story.
I liked Gina. Still do. We're friends. She's my kind of girl. At first I thought Emily was a bit wilder, but she proved different. I've gone out with a number of other girls since Gina who were more aggressive. They probably think there's something wrong with me because I didn't put my hand under or over their bra and only sucked a little tongue. Some touched me and I liked it. But all I could hear in my head was "stop." Some guys would say I was crazy or queer or nuts when I didn't let things go further. Andy said, "What's wrong with you. Are you qay or what?." That hurt at the time because deep down I wondered if I was. But now, I could care less.
I was surrounded by girls and the opportunity to do who knows what, but was lost in time, stuck. People thought there was something wrong with me. But there wasn't. Or at least I hoped not.
I always carried condoms. But making out didn't do much for me. I don't know why. Guess it didn't do much for Andy either until he had a hand on his cock.
Teenagers are more tolerant of gay guys nowadays, and while I'm tolerant, didn't want people to call me gay at the time. I don't know. There was something about being the starting quarterback that didn't quite fit that image. Things are beginning to change though.
It used to piss me off when Andy told me he thought I was gay. Now I know he did it because he was hoping we'd have sex. At first, I thought it was because I looked at him all the time and didn't have much interest in girls, but I realize now it was just infatuation and jealousy over his good looks and muscular physic, the one I wished I had. But at some point realized I just needed to be me and not Andy Gibson. I'm Matt Spence, star quarterback and awesome basketball player.
But is that really me? Would people like me if I wasn't the star quarterback and awesome basketball player? That's the big question. Look what happened to Andy when he broke his leg. I want to be liked for what's inside. My compassion, my love for others, my love for Andy, my hopes and dreams, and for Matt Spence, the person. My parents have taught me to have passion, actually compassion for others. I do my best, and while some might find that weak, I don't. The advantage I have though is I'm a good athlete, fair looking, and popular. It makes up for a lot of other things. I feel sorry for those who are just everyday guys. The popular girls would call them boring and dull. I think at times I'm boring and dull too, but they ignore it most of the time.
I think it's that way with Andy. He relied on his good looks and athletic ability for his confidence and when he got hurt, he was running on empty. He felt like the best part of him was missing. When that's not the best part of who Andy is or was? I'm not sure. My dad loves to quote some guy by the name of Nietzsche. He said, "What does not kill us makes us stronger." I think it's true, but I don't think Andy does.
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