Masquerade, Chapter 2
I wish to retain all rights to this story. However, I am delighted to grant permission to any person to publish this story as long as there is no charge to the reader and as long as no changes are made to the story.
Copyright 2006. All Rights Reserved.
Sam acted like she knew something was up. The three of us had been together for so long; it had become impossible for Sam to not spot differences in Jason's and my behavior. She started giving us curious looks at odd times, and she clung to me when we were together - nothing obvious; just an arm through mine, or a hand on my shoulder, or the side of her leg pressed to mine. I could guess how she felt; the three of us had always been together, but now Sam sensed that she was being left out of something. And I felt sorry about that.
But there was no turning back for Jason and me.
Just after Halloween, we swapped blow jobs for the first time, and then sat up beside each other at the headboard to talk about what a mind-blower it was, what it felt like - both the doing and the being done... and how the taste wasn't so bad after all... and then Jason grinned and his dark eyes danced. "Kiss me. Let me taste," he said, leaning toward me.
"Dude," I protested, leaning back. "Like... my cum taste is in your mouth."
Laughing, Jason pushed me over onto my back; and while laughing, I tried to pull away. We rolled off the bed and crashed onto the floor, shushing each other between giggles. I tried to squirm away and Jason held on to me, our naked bodies all knees and elbows. And then he pinned my arms and lowered his face to mine while I rolled my head back and forth... but only until our lips touched, and by then, we were both hard as rocks again.
We slept against and sometimes on each other even before we began making love, but by this time, we were sleeping in each other's arms, on each other shoulders, backs, sides - every night. We went to sleep that way, we slept that way, and we woke that way. I loved the nights because, beyond the lovemaking, in Jason's arms I felt loved and happy.
When Max was still around, I always had a place in their home. Their home became my real home, and Max's masculine presence made it my refuge. It had never been the same at Dottie's without Max. But now, between Dottie and Sam's house during the day, and Jason's arms at night, I had all the home and refuge that I needed.
Years later, I had a friend who was a therapist, and his theory was that my lifelong need for a male to be close to, as well as my inability to get close to most females, was ironically as much due to my mom as my dad. It was my mom who abandoned me to my dad; my mom who deserted me. Then it was my step mother who never protected me from him and who failed to provide the nurturing that my dad was unable to provide. And it was step sisters who often called my dad's wrath down on me.
I'm not sure about my friend's theory, but other than with Dottie and Sam, my experiences with females certainly did suck. However now, here with Jason, I found affection and acceptance; I found male love.
It was the very best on cold winter nights, under the blankets, our naked bodies warm and comfortable together. I'd lay with my head on Jason's shoulder and an arm and leg over him, and he'd sleep with a hand behind my back, sometimes stroking my back in his sleep. It was never easy to get up in the morning then... well unless we really "got up" in the morning.
We didn't try cornholing until one Saturday afternoon in December, when my mom and sisters were at the mall Christmas shopping and Dad was at work. Jason and I really weren't thinking at the time; I can't imagine what Dad would have been like if he'd walked in on his son getting screwed by his own step nephew, and on the floor of his son's bedroom.
Jason and I tried it doggie style, and it wasn't bad. Once we got past the first awkward time or two, we liked it. I remember one of our first times; Jason kneeling at my butt, buried in me, just gently caressing my back and sides with hands. "Oh, dude," he murmured, "you've got a great body." He ran his hands over my back and down my sides, and then over my hips and onto the sides of my butt. "And a great butt, dude," he said quietly. Jason bent over me, molding his body to mine. Wrapping his arms under me, he mouthed the back of my shoulder and held me tightly as he drove from his hips. "I've always loved your butt," he whispered. He kissed my back and moaned as he thrust. "You're beautiful, Timmy," he whispered so quietly that I almost didn't hear him.
When I took my turn, and I did him, I molded my body to the back of his just like he did with me. And I marveled at the feel of his firm body under me, and how incredible his tightness felt, low around my shaft as I ground in.
Benjamin Ratcliff and Oscar Watkins came across a gay porn magazine that somebody had thrown in the trash at the park, and described it with exaggerated disgust for the guys in the locker room at phys ed. When Benjamin said that there were pictures of guys "fucking each other face to face, like in the missionary position... you know, like a guy and a girl do face to face... but one guy was fucking the other's butt!" I made a mental note, even while the rest of the guys made grossed out noises.
I told Jason about it, and we went to bed early that night.
In moments, I was on my back with my legs slightly apart while Jason crawled up between them with his cock wagging under his belly and a bottle of lotion in his hand. He tried pointing his cock down at my butt, but it wouldn't bend that far down.
Looking down the length of my body at him, I propped up on my elbows to watch.
"It won't work," Jason said with a frown. "The angle isn't right."
I pulled up my knees, partly to get a better look, partly trying to point my butt at a better angle.
"Oh, yeah," Jason said. "That's better." He set down the lotion and placed a hand under each of my thighs. He pushed, which raised the angle of my butt higher. "Hold it, right there," he said.
I've always been pretty flexible, especially at fourteen. It was easy for me to keep my butt up while Jason squeezed lotion from the bottle and rubbed it into my crack and onto his cock. Jason had grown lean. His ab muscles showed, and he had high, firm pecs. Other than the light hair on his calves and forearms, the only hair Jason had grown was his pubic patch. The skin of his torso was smooth and white and I thought he had the most beautiful body in school. I always liked looking at Jason, and I decided I could like this position.
Leaning forward over me, supporting himself on one arm, Jason pointed himself downward to my butt and I felt his moist cockhead at my opening. He pushed, and I felt him pop in. He dropped his other hand, supporting himself on both hands as he eased in. I watched and thought I'd never seen anything sexier or hotter in my life than Jason's cock disappearing down under my balls while his lean torso hovered over mine and I felt him filling me inside.
I held onto his forearms and watched his belly muscles work as he made a few tentative thrusts. It felt good inside.
Jason sat back on his knees and grabbed my butt with both hands, pulling me snuggly into his lap. Glancing down at my flushed cock, which pointed thickly up my belly, Jason smiled. "Handy," he said, and laid the flat of his palm on the underside of my cock. He rubbed me while beginning an easy rise and fall on his knees that moved his cock inside me.
"Oh, dude," I murmured, rubbing my palms over my chest. "That's good."
Jason grinned and wrapped his hand around my shaft, pointing his thumb straight up the underside. Pressing gently with his thumb he began stroking me, and his eyes traveled up my belly as I began to respond.
Almost by reflex, I started to swivel my butt to meet the thrusts of his slender hips. Everything felt good; my body felt good. I stretched my spine, rubbing my hands down over my belly and hips as I swiveled them, meeting Jason's thrusts more firmly; and watched his belly muscles as Jason rose and fell faster. I arched back onto my shoulders, making "S"s with my torso as Jason lifted and lowered my butt with his thrusts.
"Oh, damn, Timmy. This is hot," he murmured.
His eyes met mine. Both of us were heavy-lidded with our sex. Jason slowed. Letting go of my cock, he stretched himself up over me and leaned down to kiss me. My butt in his lap, I let my legs fall out to either side. He bent down onto me, and his taut belly pressed down onto the underside of my cock and balls. His eyes stayed locked on mine as he slowly thrust once, twice; his belly pressing my cock. I swiveled to meet his next thrust and the whole length of my cock rubbed on his tight belly, all the way down to the root of my cock, down between my legs.
He opened his mouth over mine and probed with his tongue. I wrapped my arms over his strong back, our bellies pressing, pressing, pressing as I matched the movements of his lithe body with mine. I moaned. He moaned.
We broke the kiss, gasping for breath. Jason wrapped his arms over the top of my head and nuzzled into my neck. Our bodies writhed, and I clung to his angular shoulders. His belly worked on my cock as we circled hips together, and the sensations were far better than any other way we had tried anal. My head back, I found myself gurgling. I'd never gurgled before during sex.
I gurgled off and on three different times that night, and had difficulty staying awake in class the next day.
Guys the ages we were have a natural enthusiasm for sex, but they aren't always good at it. Jason and I began to get very, very good.
Loren Peach had a New Year's Eve party and invited all three of us, Jason, Samantha, and me. Loren's parents were there, so it was pretty tame, and we left early, intending to catch a late movie. The sky was clear and the temperature was in the low sixties. We walked close together, holding hands, with Sam in the middle.
Halfway there, Sam looked up at Jason and then at me. "Are you guys getting like... gay about each other?"
I glanced past Sam at Jason, and he glanced at me.
"You are," Sam said, quietly.
"Shit," Jason mumbled under his breath. "You think other people can tell, Sam?" he asked.
Sam shook her head slowly. Then nodded yes. "Maybe. The way you look at each other."
We looked at each other; Jason and me, and frowned.
Sam, her long, red hair blowing in the breeze, walked with her head down. "Are you guys having sex together?" she asked quietly.
We didn't say anything, and she nodded silently.
What was she thinking? Was she grossed out? Did she feel left out because of what Jason and I felt for each other? I glanced at Jason. He shrugged.
"You OK, Sam?" I asked, giving her hand a squeeze.
"I'm tired," she said. "I just want to go home." I thought I saw tears in her eyes.
We didn't stop hanging together, but Sam was quiet the next day, and the day after. Then on the third day, it was like she had made up her mind to accept it.
Sam acted bright and chipper, and as if she wanted to know more about Jason and me; that is, the intimate side of our relationship. She tried to act like she was happy for us. But we knew her, just like she knew us, and I could tell she was forcing it. "It's nothing serious, Sammy," Jason told her. "Just a guy thing, sorta..." He didn't know what else to say.
But that night, he held me in his arms and looked into my eyes with those dark eyes of his. "It has gotten serious, Timmy," he whispered. He smiled then and kissed me, and ran his fingers into the pubes I had grown by fourteen.
And despite what we told her, Sam knew it was serious, too. When it was just her and me, she acted normally; but when the three of us were together, she became quiet.
It was even more serious than Sam knew. I had begun looking at other boys; not just Jason. I enjoyed watching their butts; firm butts, fleshy butts, tight butts. I admired how other boys were hung and would look at balls and cocks all day if I could. I loved looking at boys' faces -- they were so much better looking than girls'.
It wasn't just me; Jason looked, too. We began talking about other boys; about who was hot, and if someday we wanted to do another guy. We got better haircuts and began to dress nicer, and we didn't look bad at all in the clothes we wore.
"Don't do that," Samantha told me at lunch one day in the cafeteria.
"Don't do what?" I asked. We were sitting at a table by ourselves, waiting for Jason.
"Look like that."
Samantha frowned. "When Tony Martinez walked by just now; the way you looked at him... at his body. Don't do that!"
I swallowed hard.
"You were so obvious," Samantha said.
My face started burning.
She leaned across the table toward me. "You're getting all messed up, Timmy. The way you're talking... like your voice is softer. And using your hands all the time to talk and the way you wave your fingers when you do it."
It was like she'd gut-punched me. She was right. I could see it. I was vaguely aware of it... was I that bad? The room suddenly seemed hot and oppressive. No way I was ready to be 'out.'
Samantha's brow furrowed, and she got up to come around to my side of the table. Taking a seat on the bench next to me, she laid her arm up my back. "You're a boy," she softly said. "You've always been all boy. Don't lose that, Timmy."
I glanced at her; Samantha smiled. Slipping an arm behind her back, I laid my head over onto her shoulder. "Sorry, Sam," I said. "I don't wanna change. Help me know when I'm doing it."
She rubbed my back and laid her cheek on the top of my head. "Don't get messed up, Timmy," she said softly. And then even more softly, "I love you."
I pulled her tighter with the arm I had behind her back, and nodded my head on her shoulder. And after that, I kept an eye on things.
Jason and I did talk about coming out to Dottie and maybe to his mom, Aunt Ellie. Dottie because she was almost like our Mom; Aunt Ellie because sooner or later we'd have to tell her. No way that I wanted my dad to know, though.
Jason and I talked it over because even though we were only fourteen and fifteen, we already knew we were gay.
We discussed it for almost a week, trying to figure the best way to break it to them. But when we mentioned it to Samantha, she clued us in that Dottie already knew, along with Jason's mom. Evidently, Aunt Ellie was already suspicious and had gotten together with Dottie to compare notes, and they pieced it together.
I was grateful when Sammy told us that Dottie talked Aunt Ellie into not telling my dad or step mom - Dottie knew my dad.
So Jason and I thought about it, and breathed a sigh of relief that at least we didn't have to worry about getting found out by them. Aunt Ellie told us later that she wouldn't have had the heart to keep Jason and me apart.
That didn't mean that Jason and I were going to maul each other in front of either of them -- of course not. But we quit bothering to lock the bedroom door at night, or pretending to be tired when we went to bed early.
Through the rest of eighth grade, I spent most of my nights in bed with Jason. Neither of us talked about love. But we shared affection as deep as best friends and lovers of any age, and we were happy.
Sam however, had struggles, and not just with us. Though she remained friends with Loren, Samantha wasn't like the other girls. She wasn't as into the makeup and clothes, or the boy-craziness. And there was something else -- the other girls had developed, physically. Girls are supposed to hit puberty before guys, but Sam was fourteen and still looked, well, prepubescent. The other girls were leaving her behind physically, and Sam just naturally spent most of her time with Jason and me.
Undeniably, Jason and I were closer to each other than to Sam, but that closeness manifested itself mainly at night. During the day, the three of us were the same friends we had been since that first day Sam moved next door. Well, maybe not exactly the same. Sam continued to sit next to me, to rest against me or have some part of her touching me whenever she could... a shoulder against mine, the side of her leg against the side of mine. I wondered at the time if she was simply trying to, in at least a small degree, keep up with the intimacy she knew that Jason and I were sharing. I couldn't blame Sam if she was a little jealous.
I think it was the hardest for Sam at night, when Jason and I left Dottie's house together or when Sam had to go home from Aunt Ellie's while Jason and I slept over. Jason kidded about her sleeping over with us sometime, but that didn't make it easier for Sam.
One Saturday morning in April, while she and I were both still fourteen, Sam came into Jason's room while Jason and I were still sleeping. Jason was on his stomach and I was lying half on him, my arm across his back and my leg cocked over the back of his. He was still mostly under the covers; I was on top of them. I woke to a finger tracing up my butt and the sudden realization that it wasn't Jason's.
I spun onto my butt, stared a second at Sam, whose eyes dropped between my legs, and then I grabbed the edge of the covers and pulled them over my middle. "Sam... what are you doin'?" I howled.
Jason stirred and lifted his head, saw Sam, and lay back down.
Sam shrugged. "I've seen you guys before." She took a seat on the chair by Jason's bed.
"Not for a long time, Sam," I said, tugging up the covers and lying down on my side to face her, head cocked on my elbow.
"So?" Sam asked. "It shouldn't matter to you... you're into guys."
Jason rolled the other way, taking the blankets with him and leaving me bare again, facing Samantha on my side, my cock and balls lying down over my leg. "Oh, geez, guys!" I said, rolling to my stomach.
Sam sat back in the chair, and her eyes met mine. "You look nice, Timmy." She smiled. "You look a lot better than the last time I saw you without any clothes." Her eyes traveled down my bare back.
I started to say something about her probably looking nicer, too, but decided not to play along.
"Roll back," she said. "Let me see you again."
"Sam!" I said, raising my head to look back at her and see if she was kidding. Jason lifted his head behind me.
Something about her look made me think I should do it. Something in her look said Sam resented her exclusion; and in her eyes, I saw the expectation that I should comply simply because she asked it and we were the type of friends who could ask that sort of thing. If Sam wanted to see me naked, well... slowly, I rolled up to my side and then onto my back. Jason propped up on his elbow to watch.
Sam got up from the chair, stepped to the side if the bed, looked me over from head to foot, and looked a little longer at my middle. Then she smiled and turned for the door. "I'll be talking to Aunt Ellie until you guys get up." She paused at the door and turned back. "You really do look nice, Timmy."
"That was weird," Jason said after the door closed.
I shrugged. "No," I said quietly. "I don't think it was."
Several weeks later, in early June, Samantha came into Jason's room once again. Only this time, Aunt Ellie was at work and Jason had left early for a driver's ed class. Sam knew that because we had talked about it the night before, and I said that I was going to sleep in.
I was still in bed, on my stomach, under the covers. Sam woke me when she pulled the covers off me. I looked up, and this time didn't even fuss or try to pull the covers back. "Checking on me again?" I asked, laying my head back down. "I haven't changed much in the last couple of months."
Samantha said nothing.
After a moment, I glanced back at her. She had pulled off her T-shirt and was unfastening a bra that she must have worn mainly to keep her nipples from showing through the shirt. It certainly wasn't there to support much.
"Sam!" I said, waking up quickly. "What are you doing?"
She kicked out of her shoes, her bra dropped, and she pushed down her shorts and panties at the same time.
I looked. I didn't know what else to do but look. Speechless, my eyes drifted down her body. Sam's breasts were small firm mounds. Her angular shoulders were a little narrower than mine. Her waist was very narrow. Her still-slim hips had developed a gentle, attractive roundness. And she had a very small patch of deep red pubic hair; the only body hair on her. Her legs and arms were long and her skin was as creamy and fresh as that of a ten year old.
Her blue eyes wouldn't meet mine. Instead, she came to the bed and climbed on. I was still on my stomach, and she laid her slender body down half on me; almost the way she had found me lying on Jason back in April, except that there were no bed covers between our bodies this time.
Though her eyes were level with mine, she didn't meet mine. Instead, she watched her fingertips stroke the skin of my back.
"It's not fair," she said softly, "that Jason gets to do things with you and I don't."
"Sam," I said quietly, "we're gay, remember? And we're guys. It's different. Guys do sex stuff with each other sometimes. It's not like we're going to get pregnant or anything." Despite my telling her I was gay, my cock was hardening under me. Naked bodies are naked bodies.
Her eyes did meet mine for a moment, and then they dropped to my lips. She eased forward, her face coming over my arm and shoulder. Our lips met, gently.
It was an affectionate kiss as much as anything. I did love her.
Gently, she pushed on my shoulder, wanting me to roll to my back. I wasn't sure about it. I had grown hard, and this was Sam, not Jason... and a girl!"
She kept pushing, and I rolled onto my back. She moved forward, her chest up over mine; her eyes staring down into mine.
"Sam," I said, softly, "just because I do things with Jason doesn't mean we don't love you, too."
Grasping my shoulder with one hand, she kissed me.
I laid a hand on her long back.
She lifted her head and looked down my body, sliding her open palm down my belly. She saw my cock and sat up, her eyes growing wider; she looked surprised... and pleased.
"It gets big," she said softly. Leaning forward over my middle, she felt tentatively over my erection with her fingertips. Sam didn't have long fingernails, but she did paint them, and they looked strange, playing over my cock.
She closed her hand around my shaft. "Oh," she said... just, "Oh."
Sam gently squeezed, and I moaned. She glanced at me, then back to my cock, lifting and examining it. Grasping it at the base, she pointed it up at the ceiling and then ran a fingertip, first around the soft skin on my shaft, and then up to my swollen crown.
I caught my breath.
Sammy looked up at me.
"That part's sensitive," I said.
She nodded, and let my cock rest again, up onto my belly. Then with a finger, she traced down the underside of my shaft to my balls. She lifted them on her fingertips, looking them over; looking under them, down between my legs.
Sam let them down, gently, and then laid the flat of her hand on the underside of my shaft and rubbed. "I like it, Timmy," she said quietly. "It looks... wonderful."
I gasped. "It feels good," I murmured, "when you rub on it like that... it feels good to have the underside rubbed.'
Sam nodded, rubbing me with her open palm. Then she lifted her eyes to mine, and without taking her eyes from mine, she knelt up; and almost like throwing a leg over a saddle, Sammy threw her leg over me and knelt astride my hips. With my cock pointing straight up my belly, she settled her weight so that the soft-skinned cleft of her vagina settled onto the soft-skinned underside of my cock. Tentatively, she moved her hips up and back, rubbing her underside up and back the underside of my upturned erection.
She did it again, her eyes watching my face.
"Sam," I said softly, my hands settling on the outside of her legs... her smooth legs. "Are you OK? Do we need to stop?"
Sam rubbed more firmly, her gaze holding my own. Then she leaned forward, her hands on my shoulders supporting her weight, and she pressed her underside to me harder, rubbing more deliberately. My eyes closed and rolled up, and my lips parted. "Sam," I whispered, but trailed off.
She began thrusting her hips, almost exactly like Jason or I would, rubbing her underside up and down the underside of my shaft. I opened my eyes again to find her still watching my face... but only half watching. Her face was flushed and her deep red hair hung down on either side of her head. In her eyes, I saw her own pleasure.
I lifted my head to look down between us. For one disjointed moment, it was as if the single cock pointing up from our two pubic patches could belong to either of us. I could see little muscles working in Sam's flat belly, and I liked the look of her. And then I laid my head back down to concentrate on the feel.
I shifted my hands to her arms and ran my palms up and down her skin. I shifted them to her small breasts and closed my hands over them, wanting to see if they were as firm as they looked. They were. And her nipples were hard.
Samantha pumped faster and her head lolled. I dropped my hands to her waist and just held on for the ride. She pumped and pumped and I felt myself climbing toward a climax. "Sammy," I whispered. "You're about to make me cum."
Her eyes closed tightly and she ground harder.
"Oh, damn, Sam," I gasped.
Her brow furrowed and she bit her lip, like someone concentrating... or in pain. She pumped hard and it jiggled my balls until they began to tighten, and then it jiggled them in their tightness.
I arched back under her, clutching her sides, shooting cum up my belly and chest.
She kept rocking, her eyes closed in concentration. Her mouth dropped open and she was breathing hard.
I began to moan, past my orgasm, and sensitive.
And then she caught her breath, froze with the underside of my shaft wedged firmly in her slit, and she shuddered, whimpering. She shuddered again.
Then, slowly, without opening her eyes, she lowered herself to me, laying her body down onto my cum soaked chest and belly. She relaxed on me with a pleased murmur, and nuzzled into the side of my neck. "I love you, too," she whispered.
"But Sam," I whispered. "I'm gay."
"Shssh," she said, lifting her head to put a fingertip to my lips. Her eyes met mine with a not-now kind of look. And then she smiled and nuzzled into my neck, relaxing.
The feel of her slender body on mine felt just as natural, though very different from, the solid weight of Jason's firm body. I rested my hands on the small of her back, and I wondered if we hadn't just made a big mistake.
Truth was, I liked her body, even if she was missing some essential equipment. And I loved Sammy, though not the same way that I loved Jason. My love for him wasn't just a matter of having grown up together, and it wasn't different from my love of Sammy just because Jason had boy parts. Jason met a deep need in me that, at the time, I would have been powerless to describe, but I knew the need was there. I knew that Max had met it. And now Jason did. Whatever that need was, it required a male in my life to meet it.
Sam's breathing grew regular, and I closed my eyes.
It was more awkward for me than Sam when we got up and dressed. And when we were dressed, she wrapped her arms over my shoulders and kissed me again. But I backed away. "Sam," I said. "Gay... remember?"
She scrunched her face at me.
"What should I tell Jason?" I asked as I opened the door for us to leave the bedroom.
Sam stopped on the way out, her eyes almost level with mine. "Don't say anything," she said with a frown. "Not for now." She glanced down. "I have to think about Jason."
"You do," I said with a grunt. "I've got to think, too."
I could barely face Jason that afternoon; feeling like somehow I'd been unfaithful. Cheating on him with a girl would be bad enough, but with Sammy?
Like most summer afternoons, we spent it at Sam's house, and she kept stealing glances at me. I wondered what she was thinking.
Jason was so happy that night... because he had driven that day, because it was summer, because we watched a fun movie before bed. He kissed me all over my face and then ground his cock down against mine, kissing me passionately, but my passion was tainted with unease.
"Do me, dude," I told him. I wanted to make it up to him. I wanted to feel like I belonged to him again. I wanted to make us tight again.
Jason lifted his head, smiling, and reached under my knees, lifting them up. He knelt up at my bottom, and applied spit to my butt, then added spit to his precum. When he entered me, I pushed back. And when he began thrusting, I met his thrusts, harder than normal.
"Damn, Timmy," he murmured. "You're hot tonight."
That was Tuesday. Jason's next class was Thursday morning. I heard the door when Sam came into the bedroom.
"Sam, we can't..." I started to say, rolling onto my back under the covers.
"Shssh," she said, pulling off her shirt... no bra.
She dropped her pants, no panties, and stepped out of her shoes all at one time. And then pulling back the covers, she looked down my body, saw my growing erection and smiled. Sam climbed in with me.
She cuddled up to me, taking my face in both hands. Sam kissed me, and then kissed me again, and her mouth opened. So I opened mine and pressed into hers with my tongue to find that Sam tasted of toothpaste and mouthwash. It was her first kiss "with tongue," and for a few moments, she was tentative, but then her mouth grew as warm and hungry as her body was.
The kiss grew more passionate, and I rolled Sam onto her back, moving over her. She opened her legs to me and I settled between them, rubbing my cock on her mound. I wasn't thinking; guys just don't at those times. "Do you want me to put it in?" I murmured.
Sam froze a moment, biting her lip. "I don't want to get pregnant," she said, shaking her head. "This is really nice. Is just doing this OK?" she asked.
It was my turn to bite my lip and decide. "What I liked better," I said thoughtfully, was what we did last time, with you on top."
Sam grinned, and running her fingers into my hair on both sides, pulled my face down to hers. We ground and kissed open-mouth. We rolled, still kissing, and she was on top. And then grabbling my shoulders, she pushed up and settled herself back down over my hips; pressing my cock up against my belly with her mound, working the underside of my shaft under the cleft of her vagina, and then she began to rock her hips.
"No," she repeated afterward, her head resting on my chest. "Don't say anything to Jason. He'll want to do it too, and it wouldn't be the same with him."
"Why not?" I asked.
"It just wouldn't."
I almost couldn't get it up for Jason at first that night, I felt so guilty. When he wanted to take me from behind, I just lay on my side and let him.
But he worked on my cock while pumping in and out of me, right up until he came. And I was more than ready for my turn by the time he was done.
Jason rolled onto his stomach and I sat up beside him. He had long lines, and he always looked beautiful on his stomach. I ran the palm of my hand lightly up the back of his legs and over his small firm butt. I bent to kiss the smooth skin of his lightly muscled back and rubbed my cock on him.
I rolled onto him, enjoying the feel of his male body under me; the perfection of the fit of his butt under my loins. I held him by his ribs, rubbing myself on his butt while I kissed the back of his neck and the backs of his shoulders.
I lifted my hips, rubbed spit into Jason's crack, and then lowered myself down, slipping the tip of my cock into his tight opening. I wrapped my arms under him and eased in all the way. And then I stretched my legs out on either side of his, and squeezed the outside of his legs between the insides of mine.
After Sam, I needed this... male on male love. I may have only been fourteen, but I was male, and Jason definitely was. I took my time. I wanted it to last... because Jason's body felt so good under me and because my cock felt so good inside him. I treasured the feel of his male body, and treasured his familiar scent. It was like taking a bath in male sex to wash me clean of the mixed feelings I had after Sam.
Over the weekend, I noticed Jason watching Sam and me, and it occurred to me that he might be noticing subtle differences in our relationship. Saturday night, I slept at my house. Sunday night, back at his house, Jason and I did a quick sixty-nine; more a get-your-rocks-off kind of thing, and I didn't like it. I don't think Jason did either. In the night, he woke me with kisses and then a fierce hug, and we made love again, the right way.
I resolved to tell Sam we couldn't do anything any more. But then Tuesday, when she opened the door to the bedroom, she was already naked and laughing, and jumped onto the bed. I was on my stomach and she bounced on my butt. "Today, I'm giving you a blow-job," she announced.
I had always heard things about how girls smell... down there. But Sam didn't have much odor at all. The scent between her legs was almost a milder version of Jason's, mixed with a slight tang.
I learned about female genitalia that morning, and was introduced to the clitoris, and I found that what I could do with my tongue there could drive Sam wild. We rested, and did it again.
And that afternoon, I couldn't face Jason.
Jason and I were mowing lawns for money that summer, and as usual, we wore only shorts and shoes. We liked watching each other's bodies as we worked the mowers and swung the weed eaters; especially when our torsos glistened with sweat. It was always fun making eyes at each other, playing like we were panting for each other's body.
But I could barely look at him.
Finally, he pulled me behind a storage shed at the house where we were working, and pushed me back against the wall with his hands on my shoulders. His dark eyes bore into mine. "Timmy," he asked. "What the hell is going on?"
I had been wrestling with it so much, I just answered without thinking. "Sam and I have been having sex."
Jason's eyes went all hollow, like I'd kicked him in the balls.
"I wanted to tell you," I started to say, but Jason released my shoulders and turned numbly away.
"Jason," I said, laying a hand on the sweaty back of his shoulder.
"Don't," he said, swinging back to push my hand away. He wouldn't look at me. "Just don't."
Slowly, he walked back to his mower and started it up. I returned to mine, my gut churning. We were mowing opposite squares, and when I glanced his way, tears were streaking the dirt on his face. And then I wept, too.
"I'm not doing it any more Sam," I told her, after taking her out to her porch when I got home. "Jason confronted me and I had to tell him that..."
"Why?" she interrupted.
"Because he knows me just as well as you do," I answered. "And he knew something was up. He confronted me, Sam, and I had to tell him." I leaned closer. "I've hated lying to him, and I'm not going to."
"He cried, Sammy," I said. "It hurt him, and I'm not going to hurt him any more."
Sammy scowled. "What about hurting me?" she asked angrily, her hands on her hips.
"Damn it, Sam," I said, and then lowered my voice back to a harsh whisper. "You and I have just been messing around. Jason and I have been making love for like... almost two years. He and I... we're lovers Sam. Lovers."
Sam's eyes brimmed with tears, but she continued to stare hard into mine.
"Sam," I said. "It's not like we got all mushy, you and me, right? We're just best friends, and we messed around some. But we're not going to any more."
The tears welled out of her eyes now and ran down her cheeks. Turning from me, she walked to the door and went inside, slamming the door behind her.
I knew in my gut that if I slept at my house that night, it would be even harder the next time for Jason and me. Even if he kicked me out of bed, even if Jason socked me in the face, I was going to spend this night over there, and every night until things were right between us again.
He didn't sock me. He didn't kick me out of bed. He simply turned his back to me.
"I told her we couldn't ever do it again," I said softy, lying on my back, gazing up at the ceiling. "She was pissed as hell. Probably pissed enough that she'll never want to see me again." I said it, realizing the truth of it even as I said it. And then I felt torn... and sad. I rolled up on my side, back to Jason's back. "I chose you over her," I said simply.
Jason said nothing.
"I'm really, really sorry, Jason," I said. And I really, really was.
I know why they call it "the cold shoulder." Jason gave it to me again the next night in bed, and Sam... well I didn't even see Sam. Jason and I didn't go over there and she didn't come to see us.
The third night, when I lay back in bed, Jason rolled to face me. He didn't say a word, but laid a hand on my stomach and simply looked down into my eyes. And then he leaned over me and pressed his lips to mine. The kiss lasted and our mouths opened to each other. He wrapped his arms under me. I wrapped mine over his shoulders.
Jason moved over me, his hips settling between my legs. While his tongue probed my mouth, Jason worked his knees under the back of my legs, and then the top of his thighs under the backs of mine, working my legs up higher.
It was right that he take me that night; right that he reclaim me and retake me for himself. It was right and I wanted him to do it.
We moved against each other with more than the physical desires of fourteen-year-old and fifteen-year-old bodies - we had two male hearts, however young; hearts that loved; hearts that wanted everything back the way it had been. Even as he thrust into me, Jason stretched up over me, and then holding himself deep inside me, took my face in both hands. Our mouths met, open and hungry.
He pushed up on both hands... his eyes holding mine as he began to thrust. When I began circling my hips to meet those thrusts, he folded his body down onto me, slipping his hands under the backs of my shoulders; grabbing on to hold us together.
We took our time, Jason kissing over my face, neck, shoulders, chest... while I ran my palms over his shoulders and back, feeling his flexing muscles and smooth skin. I ran my fingers into his hair as he sucked on my neck, and I grew incredibly hard. We took our time, and yet, I shot my cum between our bellies at almost the same instant that I felt my insides go slick with his. We slowed, gradually; and Jason held me. He kissed my neck tenderly, and I stroked his back with my fingertips. He stayed inside me until he was completely soft.
I felt sorry for Dottie who was innocent in all this, and I missed her. Over the next couple of weeks, I saw her over in her yard or on her porch, and each time she waved sadly. I waved back. I didn't see Samantha at all, except for her back because she usually saw me first.
"It's her own damn fault," Jason said, one night as we were undressing each other for bed. "Everything was fine until she had to mess it up.
"What if the three of us... you know... did things together?" I asked, only because the question was obvious and I figured he must have thought about it, too.
His eyes dropped and he shook his head immediately. "She should have thought of that to begin with. It's too late now."
Problem was, I was pretty sure that Samantha must have thought of that "to begin with." But for whatever reason, she hadn't chosen to.
In early August, Aunt Ellie announced that she and Jason were moving to Houston
My step mom and Aunt Ellie had a brother who lived in Houston. He was a building contractor and his business had been growing. Jason and I never thought much about things being financially tight for Aunt Ellie, but her brother had. That summer, he offered her a better paying job; working for him. And in early August, he came into possession of a house that he could sell to Aunt Ellie on very favorable terms. The house and the job were too good for Aunt Ellie to turn down.
She tried to break it to us gently -- to both Jason and me at the same time -- but there was no gentle way to say that she was moving Jason to Houston.
I thought about asking if Jason could live with us, but realized almost instantly that it was stupid. Even if my dad was willing to take Jason in - which he almost certainly wouldn't be - he'd quickly find out the truth about us, would probably kick both of us out... at the least.
Jason did ask Aunt Ellie if I could come to live with them in Houston, and Aunt Ellie actually considered it. She phoned her brother the next day to ask his advice, and that night, she sat Jason and me down in her kitchen.
"My brother, David," she told us, looking mainly at me, "thinks I can't afford it."
She leaned toward me. "Timmy," she said, laying her hand on my forearm. "You know I love having you around, and I've always been glad when you ate with us. And I've never minded doing laundry for you. But taking you in, paying for clothes, school expenses, all your meals... with everything that would cost... well, I just don't have the money for that."
"We'll get jobs," Jason said, and I nodded in agreement. "We'll help pay."
Aunt Ellie sadly shook her head. "You're only fifteen, Jason, and Timmy's only fourteen. No place hires kids that young."
"We'll mow lawns," Jason countered.
She shook her head. "You couldn't mow enough lawns to make a difference and still handle your school work."
"Sure we can," Jason insisted. "We have the weekends, and guys can make good money mowing lawns. I bet they really make good money in Houston."
We talked much more, arguing, cajoling. Eventually, Aunt Ellie promised to phone her brother again the next day.
But Aunt Ellie's brother didn't know me. He didn't know how much Jason and I loved each other. He didn't understand that this move was separating brothers. He thought only in the hard realities of his broke and husbandless sister taking on financial and parental responsibilities of a non-relative, fourteen-year-old boy.
In the end, it was hard realities and not her heart that made the decision for Aunt Ellie. Later, it occurred to me that my dad might have been willing to chip in money to have me not around. But that was later, after they were gone, and we never did talk to Dad about my going with them.
If it had only been a couple of months earlier, we might have asked Dottie to take us in. Max's life insurance had been good, and we could have made our offer to her to work to help pay the bills. But because of Sam and me, things had obviously changed in the last couple of months.
Aunt Ellie wanted to make the move to Houston before the school year started. In the few days that Jason and I had to come up with ideas, we could come up with no other alternative than him moving with his mom to Houston.
The love making during our last few nights at Jason's house was made desperate by our desire to hang on to each other. Then I traveled with Jason and Aunt Ellie to Houston to help with the moving, and stayed there two nights; and those were desperate nights as well.
"I love you, dude," Jason told me for what had to be the tenth time that last night. We were facing each other on our sides, legs entwined, snug at our middles, gently running our hands over each other's bodies. "I'm always going to love you," he said. "You know that, right?"
I nodded. "I love you, Jason. You know that, too, right?"
He nodded and laid the palm of his hand on my cheek. His eyes filled with tears. "You are my lover," he softly said, "and my best friend and my little brother." He bit his lip, and tears ran down alongside his nose.
Slipping an arm under his neck and wrapping one over his back, I pulled him into a hug and rested my cheek on his. "And you're my lover," I said, "and my best friend and my big broth..." I had cried earlier, and thought I was done with crying; but my throat constricted and the word 'brother' became as a sob instead.
Jason wrapped his arms around me and we held each other tightly. "I'm going to miss you so much!" I sobbed.
"I'm going to miss you," he said, squeezing me so hard it almost hurt.
I ran my hand over the tight muscles of his back. "I'm going to miss this most of all," I said. "Us holding each other; sleeping together."
Jason nodded his cheek against mine, sniffled, and then chuckled lightly. "I'm going to miss everything."
I nodded as well. I'd miss the lovemaking. But Jason and I had been constant companions - more constant than friends or brothers - for almost all of my fourteen years. Jason had been my protector and my refuge from my dad. As I tried to imagine even one day back home without him, it seemed as if a terrible black hole opened in my heart and I felt the ache of loneliness, even while I was still in his arms. I hugged him tightly to me, and shut my eyes tightly, squeezing out the tears.
I wept on the bus ride home. I wept because of losing Jason. I wept because I had lost Max. And Samantha, too. And now I felt completely alone.
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