A Mark on My Soul
Chapter 1
By and © Hans Schrieber
Warning! This story contains descriptions of sexual activity between consenting minor youth and also between those same children as adults. Because the events in this story actually happened, reference to certain factual acts of abuse perpetrated against a young boy by an evil stepfather is referred to, being an essential element to the story. I have avoided specific graphic detail to protect the reader from the actual horror of such despicable behavior.
If you are under the age of 18, and/or if you are offended by this content, and/or if it is illegal in your jurisdiction to possess or read such material, please leave now and do not read this story as neither the internet host nor the author can be responsible for your actions. Please, always practice safe sex; no momentary thrill is worth your life.
This story is enhanced fiction, based on real life events, personally experienced by myself. Names and locations have been changed to protect identities.
The student server behind the counter eyed my packed tray and gave me an amused glance as I asked for a second dessert. "I'm eating for two," I explained, patting my tummy, "I'm pregnant." He shot me a disgusted "that's not funny" look and moved on to the next person in line. Truth is, this is my sole meal for the day at USC and I intend to get as much packed in as possible. I've been working day and night on an audit with a deadline at the USC Medical Center. I wondered how I let my physique go so badly. Sitting on my butt all day and eating junky fast food has a lot to do with the reshaping. I'd been in such great shape when I was a young man and a student myself. I looked with jealousy on the tight young bodies surrounding me in the cafeteria. I was a junior accountant in the high pressure world of an international accounting firm in Los Angeles. They were busy extracting their pound of flesh from me while I paid my dues.
I filled my cup with diet Pepsi, like drinking a diet pepsi with two dessert's was going to help, and pulled out a ten for the stone fox, blonde coed at the register. "I'll have two of those to go," I thought, staring at her tits. Glancing over at the amazing, young hunk next to her, I mentally added, "And one freaky beefsteak for a midnight snack, as well." I walked off chuckling to myself. I still hadn't decided which side of the plate I preferred swinging from, so working on a college campus was just one big sexual smorgasbord.
I sauntered over to an empty table and set my feast down. Walking over to the condiment table, I noticed the large psychedelic poster announcing the "Dancing in the Eighties" dance coming up. I wondered if I could sneak in and see it. I loved college dances just for the atmosphere. I love to people watch and a college dance is a prime venue for that. Alas, those days are behind me and the daily grind of real life lies ahead. I have a good feeling about the rest of this 80's decade, though. With continued hard work, I could promote to a senior level and then on to a junior partner before the decade is done. "What it was, what it is, what it will be, gonna change for me, gonna set me free!" I chirped.
I earned my bachelor's degree after only 5 ½ years and a masters in one more. Not bad, considering I worked a full time job for a major part of that time to pay for my tuition. I got no loans and didn't take any grants from the man to do it.
I sat down and started smothering my french fries with relish, ketchup and mustard. I stirred the concoction together, tilted my head back and dropped one in my mouth. I had to roll it around and suck quick gasps of air in order to try and cool it. This batch of fries must have been fresh from the fryer. Usually, they were cold and greasy, resembling a limp pud on my tongue. As I washed it down with a long swig of diet Pepsi, a handsome young man in a lab coat caught my eye and triggered a synapse to fire in my brain. There was a faint recollection connected to his facial structure. In an instant, I knew exactly who it was. "No way, Jose, could it be?"
I got up and walked over to his table. He was eating a salad and skimming a medical text with a sketch of a dissected penis on the page. "Excuse me; you wouldn't happen to be Mark Jamison, would you?" He glanced warily up at me then burst into a broad smile splitting his high set, rosy cheeks in half. He had a strong, firm chin and warm brown eyes, just as I remembered. He had matured better than I would have imagined into a drop-dead, gorgeous hunk of man flesh.
"Hans!" He stood up and extended his large hand. "Give me some skin." I looked up at him and wasn't surprised he'd grown a good six inches taller than me. His father had been a large man as well. I slapped down five and reversed my palm for him to give it back. "This is an amazing surprise."
"I'm relieved you just traded five and didn't punch me out," I said jokingly, "after the way we last parted."
He looked at me quizzically, and said, "How weird you would think that."
"Well, you know, we sort of split less than perfectly."
"Yeah, I suppose. But we have too much radical history together for any grudges." He said. "Come over and join me. Can you?"
"Sure." I scurried over and collected my tray.
"Big eater I see," he said, chuckling at the humongous pile of food on my tray.
"Hah, no, not really," I explained, "I'm just working my butt off on an audit of the medical school and I only find time for one meal a day. Want some? How about the cheesecake? It's actually pretty decent here, you know?"
"Umm, sweet. I'll have some cheesecake when I finish my salad. That's like the Hans I remember from the old days. You were always throwing yourself headlong into whatever you set out to do. He smiled again. That smile could smelt iron ore. It was certainly making a puddle of goo out of me. What you been up to?" He asked then commented, "Man, I was like thirteen and you would have been around fourteen or fifteen the last time we hung out together."
"Hah, no pun intended?" I asked.
"What pun?"
"Oh, so you really weren't making a pun about 'hanging out' the last time we got together. Remember, we went skinny dipping that day. Get it? We were 'hanging out.'"
"Oh wow, you're a horny dork still. How did your mind go there? Especially after almost fifteen years," he laughed.
"I know, freaky, huh?" I said, "It doesn't seem possible it was almost fifteen years ago. I was fourteen - almost fifteen, when you came over to visit me after we'd moved. I have a confession. I was really excited when you said you wanted to ride bikes up to the pond and go skinny dipping. I never expected you to really want to do it. I'd been trying to get you naked for as long as I could remember. I was so curious what you looked like. You hardly ever skinny dipped up at the canal in the old neighborhood and when you did you never joined in with showing off your goodies. You were about the only kid in the hood I never saw naked close up.
"I thought for sure it was gonna happen that day in your basement. You loved playing doctor. Apparently that hasn't changed. Remember we were playing with that doctor kit your little brother got for his birthday. It was rare that you ever let anyone in your house so I was already feeling special. It was the very first time I had been in your bedroom downstairs. I sat on your bed and you listened to my heart with the toy stethoscope and checked my reflexes with the little hammer. I was stripped down to my Fruit of the Looms and you asked where I hurt. I already had a boner and I told you my wiener hurt when I peed. You told me to take off my fruities and then you put the stethoscope on the tip of my little wiener and then pretended to give it a shot. I told you it was stuck in that position, and you gave me a sugar pill out of a little bottle in the little, black, plastic bag with the big, red cross on it. After that, it was my turn to be the doctor and just as I was getting ready to tell you to take your fruities off, your stepdad came home early. I'll never forget the look of panic on your face. We hurried and got dressed and you hid me in your closet and told me to be absolutely quiet. I heard you run upstairs and I heard you and Stewie and your mom talking with your stepdad but couldn't make out what you were saying. Pretty soon you returned and told me to hurry up the stairs and run home. It was all so clandestine and you had a huge look of relief when you squirreled me out of the door. I always thought that was strange."
"Yeah, well I was forbidden to have anyone in the house and definitely not in my room. If he would have found us down there almost naked, he might have killed me," Mark said. I couldn't tell how seriously he meant the killing part.
"You know, the day you rode over to my new house and we went skinny dipping, I was trying so hard not to pop a boner when we started getting undressed up at the pond. I can still picture your nice looking pud and nuts when we faced each other and grinned and pulled off our fruities at the same time. I tried not to stare but I was pretty obvious, I bet."
"Yeah, you were," agreed Mark, "but I always loved skinny dipping even though the nudity in front of others bothered me. But, since it was just us and you promised me nobody else would be coming there during the day in the middle of the week, I wanted to do it. The truth is, I really wanted to see what you'd developed into as well."
"It was cool floating on those big inner tubes," I said, "and I caught you checking out my goods a couple times while we floated around, I'm pretty sure. You're right, though, about me being a horny dude. I still am, I guess. Some things don't change, you know? Anyway, I couldn't take it any longer just floating like that, so I slid off my tube into the water and started flipping you over. When we were wrestling around I got a boner from touching and rubbing against you. When my hand rubbed up against your pud and nuts in the water, it was so exciting to me. Freaky, huh?"
"Definitely freaky," agreed Mark.
"So back at my house, when we were all by ourselves downstairs, changing back out of our swim suits; I had ulterior motives when I grabbed your clothes and played keep away. I was really hoping to get you to mess around with me some. You were my best friend of any I'd ever had and I really wanted to share that fun with you. When I lay on top of your clothes on the bed and you straddled me trying to get them back, just wearing our fruities, I got a boner. I was desperately hoping you would give in and we could play around together a little. Then you dropped a nuke on me. I remember you called me out and said 'I know what you're trying to do. You want me to wrestle you for my clothes because you want to touch our privates and do gay stuff together. But,' you continued, 'I don't want to do that kinda stuff with you.'"
I continued, "Then you started crying when you said that if you didn't get home before your stepdad did, you would get in big, big trouble. I remember the horrible fear in your voice when you said it. I'm really sorry how that all shook out. I've wanted to tell you that and apologize for years. I never thought I'd get the chance. I truly am sorry for all the pressure I put on you to try and mess around sexually together. It must have been uncomfortable for you having me do that. I've thought about you a lot since that day, man, and wondered about you often, you know?"
"Same here. I've often regretted the way I freaked out on you that day," explained Mark, "I just had a lot of hang-ups as a kid. And my stepfather really was furious and pounded me bad because I did get home after he did that day. When I told him I had gone to see you, he banned me from ever visiting you again. You don't know how much I really did want to mess around with a kid my age back then, especially you. I idolized you like a big brother back in the old hood, dude. You don't even know how much I actually loved you. You never judged me or teased me. You were always there to play with me when I needed a friend. When you moved away, I cried for days. Then, when you called me up and asked if I wanted to ride over to your new house and go skinny dipping up at that pond, I was so excited. I desperately wanted to do the things you kept pressuring me to do but I just couldn't and it made it so hard. I was just so messed up as a kid."
"Yeah, you were definitely the most complicated, wacked friend I ever had; I'll say that for sure. I understand now why you never would come back over. I thought it was just about you thinking I was gay, so I quit calling," I said. "So, I kinda heard from someone that your stepdad got sent to the cooler or something, is that true?"
Mark looked down. He took a bite of salad and chewed slowly, sadly. "Yeah, it's true," he mumbled after he swallowed. "It's what he deserved."
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have brought that up. I'm a bit of a sped sometimes," I sincerely apologized. "Must have been a real downer for your mom, I bet."
"No, not really. It was the best thing that could have happened to her. She's hooked up with a new hubby now and finally enjoying some well deserved happiness in life." This brought a small crease of a satisfied smile to his face. He took another bite of salad.
I took a swig of Pepsi to wash down a bite of my double bacon cheeseburger I was scarfing down and asked, "So, it's none of my business, but, you probably remember how nosy we Schreiber's are, not to mention curious. What did your stepdad pull off to get tossed in the cooler?"
"I'm really not okay with talking about him if it's alright. Let's talk about us," he said, politely deflecting my prying question.
"Sure, sorry. What you been doing with yourself the last fifteen years? You got someone special in your life? I don't see a ring. I have to say, you totally grew into one handsome man. And does the lab coat mean you're a med student?"
"You really haven't changed; your mind goes in ten directions at once still. Okay, well I've spent most of the last fifteen years in therapy and medical school, in that order. Umm, yes, I have someone special. I'm married and have a son who is almost one, and I am almost finished with my residency as an urologist. I have no life at the moment because medicine consumes all of it and my marriage is a bit shaky right now."
"Really? Why?" I asked.
"Some leftover baggage from my childhood - therapy only goes so far," he said unemotionally.
"That sucks. I hope it wasn't just me that scarred you?" I said humorously, but I was seriously hoping it hadn't been my fault.
"No, it wasn't you." He smirked and chased a cherry tomato around his salad bowl trying to stab it with his cheap, plastic fork. "You were the best friend I had," he said, giving up on the fork and popping the evasive tomato into his mouth with his fingers, "like I said, you were never mean to me or called me names. Even when I wasn't a very good friend back, you kept coming around. Gosh, if it wasn't for you, I probably still wouldn't be able to ride a two wheeler."
"Gosh, we were friends as long as I can remember anything. That was kinda crazy teaching you to ride a bike. We spent hours on it for practically a whole week. Pushing it up Gillgan's sloping driveway across the street and holding it for you to get on. I'd help you get the pedal just right so you could push down on it with your right foot as soon as you took off, then run to the sidewalk and check for cars," I recalled.
"Yeah, and I was always so nervous. I was kind of a pansy back then. I didn't want to fall and get hurt, but you were always so brave and fearless," Mark chimed in.
"Nah, not really. I never saw myself that way. Like brave, I mean. I just liked to do and try things so I guess I wouldn't quit until I conquered them, even if I got hurt trying. I was just naturally adventuresome even if it was something kind of wacked, like sex play with other dudes. No pain, no gain, right?" I said.
"Or trying to jump the canal on your motorbike," suggested Mark.
"You heard about that one? Not one of my brighter ideas; my shoulder still hurts now and then from that little Evil Knievel stunt," I chuckled.
"Well, I was always such a pansy most of the time. If I could go back and do some things over, I'd take more chances and not be so afraid all the time. I got really tired of being afraid so much," lamented Mark.
"I think you were pretty brave about learning to ride a bike. You didn't give up until you got it. I remember you'd cruise down the driveway, across the street, and onto the dirt road that ran between your yard and the Johnson's. When you hit the dirt road I'd be yelling, 'pedal, pedal' and sometimes you did and sometimes you just froze up, wobbled and crashed. But you always tried again."
"Yeah, you were patient with me. I'll never, ever forget when I finally turned onto the street and didn't continue onto the dirt road and just started pedaling and pedaling and didn't fall over. It was like all of a sudden I got it. The whole world changed for me that day. It was the greatest thing ever. I even turned around at the four-way and pedaled back without falling. I can still picture you on the sidewalk by Gillgan's jumping up and down, cheering me on, waving your arms in the air and clapping." Mark pulled his napkin free of his plate and dabbed at his eyes. "Gosh, man, I'm all emotional all of a sudden.
"Wow, those were some killer great times. After that, we rode everywhere together. It sure was strange, though, how your stepdad reacted when we showed him you could ride it on your own without the training wheels," I mused.
"I didn't even think about it, but he was upset because he was planning on teaching me that weekend, but then I already learned without him. I didn't want to learn from him anyway. He wouldn't have been patient like you were. He'd just yell at me if I didn't get it right away and tell me I was stupid."
"Sounds like he was a real ass," I said. "He seemed like a nice enough guy, just kind of gruff sometimes."
"You have no idea. I got it bad for that one."
"I remember now when he came home and parked his white truck on the curb. You were just ready to make another launch from the Gillgan's driveway and you proudly waved and called for him to watch. By the time you turned around and were heading back, he had gotten the broomstick that you freaked out over so much. I'll never forget you screaming and begging forgiveness as he dragged you into the house. I was so confused; I didn't get that whole trippy scene. I guess that's what he beat you with, huh?" I assumed.
Mark pushed his salad bowl aside and said, "You still willing to share that cheesecake?"
"Oh, sure." I handed it over, pried the glued seam of my milk carton apart, and stabbed at my chocolate cake. "Mmm, chocolate is the only thing on earth better than sex."
"Really? I guess I better eat more of it then," mused Mark. "So have you been getting your share of both? You got anybody special in your life?"
"No one special for me," I objected, "I'm not making any commitments at this stage of my life. No way am I getting pussy whipped or nut leashed this soon. That domestic crapolla is just house arrest without the joy of committing the crime as far as I'm concerned. I'm totally unattached, but I don't mind jumping some bones now and then. Sex for me is all about getting my rocks off right now, but I scarcely have a chance with all the hours I put into my job."
"Well, I'm not very experienced in that area of life. I entered my marriage a virgin … well, depending on your definition of that term, and the whole sex thing loses its thrill after a few years of marriage and especially after having a kid. You don't always get rewarded for being a good boy."
"You gonna explain that or just leave me hanging?"
"Pretty much just going to leave you hanging," he said, sliding a forkful of creamy cheesecake into his mouth, then grinning as he swirled it around, savoring it. Watching him eat the cheesecake made me wish he was swirling my pud around in there instead of cheesecake behind those big, full lips.
"Bastard," I said, smiling back, "you know that just PO's me when you tease me like that."
"I know. I remember how PO'd you got that day in the park by the creek. I thought you'd never give up trying to get out of me how I knew about masturbating and getting hair above your penis," Mark said full of satisfied amusement.
"Oh, yeah, that did piss me off. It was you, me and David. You're like, I guess it's a year and ½ younger but just one school year behind me, and David is a year older than me. You know it sucked for me that nobody was my exact age in the whole neighborhood. Anyway, we'd ridden bikes over there to the Oak Woods Park and played tag in the wooded trails for a while, remember? Then we were just sitting on the swinging trees and shooting the breeze when David had to go pee. He just pulled his shorts and fruities down and peed right there in front of us without even turning away just as bold as you please.
He really just wanted to show off his pubic hair to us. I thought it was so amazing he had hair down there and I commented about it. Remember, he asked if we even knew boys grew hair down there. I said I knew it because I'd seen my brother and an older neighbor boy naked before, but you only had a little brother, so I figured you didn't know. But then you said you did know all about it and I challenged you on it. Basically, I called you a liar, which wasn't very nice of me.
You got kind of defensive and said you knew a lot more about what happened when boys got older, like what masturbating was, but then you refused to tell us how you knew. David was all impressed that you knew about masturbating, but I had absolutely no idea what you guys meant by that and it was killing me. I'd never even heard that word before. Suddenly, I was the one on the outside and I felt like a complete dork. I didn't want to let on, though, that I was all stupid about it, so I faked knowing and tried to get you to talk so I could find out about it. I accused you of making it all up unless you told us what it was and how you knew about it, but you stuck to your guns and refused to talk."
"Yeah, you were relentless. Talk about a full court press. Finally, I just bugged out to get away from the situation," explained Mark.
"That annoyed me so much that you just split like that. By then, I'd painted myself into a corner by acting like I knew all about it and was just trying to test you. So after you split, I really couldn't even ask David about it. I was really pissed off by the whole deal. After you left, David pulled his pants down and let me feel his hair. Then we checked mine but I didn't have any growing yet. We rubbed our puds until we got little boy boners and then we thought we heard someone coming, so we hurried and pulled up our pants and headed home. And to this day, I've wondered why you wouldn't share that kind of important information with a friend. Hella dude, it's the greatest thing ever and you didn't share the doobie. Did you even know about orgasms and jizzing back then, or just about rubbing?" I asked.
"I'm afraid, I knew way more than was appropriate for a kid my age. Things you couldn't have imagined and I definitely didn't want to talk about," Mark claimed.
"How? Did your parents give you a book or something. Crap, you must have only been like eight or nine when that happened? I was so uneducated it was pathetic. My parents didn't tell me crapolla about sex stuff. I had to discover it all on my own. You want to hear something funny, but at the same time pathetic? When I finally stumbled onto the whole masturbation thing and when I ejaculated for the first time, I thought I was sick and it was some kind of pus oozing out. I thought I had cancer," I shared.
"Ohh, that must have been scary."
"It was. So straight out, dude, how did you know all about that stuff so young? And, why wouldn't you tell us?" I pried.
"How did we end up discussing pre-adolescent sex again?" asked Mark. "Wasn't Oak Woods Park the coolest place ever to grow up near? We had the greatest times there. Remember playing army, and cowboys and Indians, and alien invaders?"
"Nice job avoiding my question, but yeah, it was definitely one groovy place to grow up," I agreed. "Remember when David stole those leather thingies from his dad's supplies downstairs? How cool was that? But, I remember you always refused to wear one, so you were always a cowboy and never an Indian. I thought it was the coolest thing ever to put those on. Us Indians would get naked and fold that leather thing between our legs and hold them up with our belts. The only other thing we'd wear out there in the woods was our Keds. Remember the one time Larry stole his mom's makeup and we put war paint on? We freaked out so bad when we realized it wouldn't wash off. My mom was so mad and Larry got his butt whooped and was grounded for like a week."
"Yeah, I was pretty glad I wasn't an Indian that day," Mark chuckled. "It was pretty funny seeing all you guys dressed in those chamois loin cloths and painted up like that."
"I remember that day when a group of us Indians captured you and were going to tie you to a tree and pants you; you freaked out! You went totally bonkers on us. I never saw you freak out so bad before. You were screaming and crying and thrashing like a wild man. When you broke free, you took off running like your life depended on it," I reminisced.
"I thought maybe it did," Mark said sullenly. "Thanks for the cheesecake. I wish we had more time to remember the old times, maybe even some happier ones," he tipped his head and screwed up his mouth to indicate his annoyance at how all my memories of him seemed to end with him horribly distraught somehow, "but as much as I'd like to stay and chew the fat, I have a patient to go help."
I was overwhelmed with sadness at losing this chance to catch up and remember our childhood experiences together. I wanted to learn more about his life since we parted, and I definitely didn't want to end on such a sour note again. "Yeah, you know, you're right. I haven't chosen the best things to remember here. We had some amazing great times, too, didn't we? Like, picking cherries in the orchards, riding my mini-bike, and cub scouts. I have an idea. How about you come over to my apartment for dinner tonight. I'm having an 'all but' dinner and I'd love you to join me. Can you? Please? I even got an old photo album of when I was a kid and of the old neighborhood and I bet I got some pictures of you and your little brother, Stewie, in it."
He broke into his gorgeous smile and said to my relief, "That'd be nice. Thanks." I wrote down my address and suggested 7:00 pm. As he took the paper, he wrinkled his brow a bit and asked, "Just what exactly, is an 'all butt' dinner?"
I snorted a laugh and said, "Well since I'm moving to a new place, I need to clean out my fridge and shelves, so I'm going to be throwing 'all but' the kitchen sink into the pot for a poor boy stew. Why, what'd you think it meant?"
"Oh nothing," he said, "I just wondered. I'd never heard that term before and wondered what I was getting myself into, that's all."
"See you at seven then?"
"Can we make it eight? I don't think I can get out of my meeting before then."
"Sure. That'll be great."
I'll be there. Gotta fly. Later." He took off, jogging. His lab coat hid what I assumed was a nice butt. The tight-fitting shirt under his lab coat, however, showed off nicely his buff upper body. He was clearly into being and looking fit.
"Later, then," I called after him as he pushed his way out the glass doors of the cafeteria. My heart was racing. My mind was spinning, and my pud was straining against the fabric of my suit pants. I tossed the rest of my chow and floated to the parking lot. I tugged on the bent driver's side door of my faded, beige VW. It's really time I stopped being so cheap and got a decent car. I stopped at the Walgreens and bought some candles, baby oil and incense. I got a six pack of Coors and a small carton of Ben and Jerry's.
When I got home, I climbed the stairs to my studio apartment taking three steps at a time. I was still so excited about Mark coming over. I stopped just inside the doorway and groaned. My apartment looked like it had been nuked. Half packed boxes were everywhere. I started with the bed and started by dumping my clothes back out of the two boxes already packed. I tried on several outfits. My favorite was the beige slacks and sweater vest. The vest slimmed me and the tight pants showed off my nice assets in the back. I modeled in the mirror. "Dude, what are you thinking? Way too dressy," I said aloud.
Next, I pulled out my black wide legs and a silver knit sweater top with black laces in the front up by the neck. I threaded my wide, black belt with the big silver buckle through the loops. "White socks gotta go," I said. "White socks are for nerds and jocks, and I ain't either." I rubbed on my pud over the fabric of my pants until I had a semi-stiffie. It didn't really show in the black pants very well.
"Back to the fallback." I put on my 501 button ups with a brown Doors T-shirt with Jim Morrison's profile on it. White gym socks went back on. My pud and even my nuts created an intriguing set of bulges in my crotch of the 501's. I spent the next three hours working to pack up for my following day's move in earnest. I scrubbed the shower stall and toilet with Comet cleanser. I could finish cleaning the rest of the place in the morning so I could get my deposit back from the old hag manager. I dug through my miscellaneous box and pulled out the rectangular photo album my old lady had given me. It was a priceless treasure I wouldn't trade for all the tea in China. I placed it on the wobbly table next to the boob tube. I made sure I had clean plates, glasses and silverware. I sorted through and found two matching sets.
At six, I started going through the cupboards. The stuff I was gonna use for the "all but" stew I set on the counter. Everything else went into a box that I planned on giving to Ricky. Ricky is my favorite conquest since college. He's a first off the bench guard on the basketball team at some community college nearby and dumb as a fencepost. I met him at the building laundry washing everything he owned except his shoes, same as I was. He was struggling with his math and I offered to help. I ended up tutoring him on Sundays. He's one hot hunk. He was doing a cheerleader and would give me blow by blow details of his weekly exploits during our tutoring sessions. Sometimes, it was literally "blow by blow" details. That was apparently her preferred way of showing her undying love for him. He was always borrowing Trojans from me in hopes of jumping her bones.
He had a collection of XXX videos he'd bought from a dirty book store in Hollywood. I'd gotten a couple of gay ones on a lunch break while I was doing an audit in Hollywood myself. I started watching the videos with him after tutoring. We'd take turns in the head beating off after watching them. One time, I slipped in a gay one and when it started I looked at him shocked and said "Are you a switch hitter?" He freaked out.
"That's not mine," he objected profusely. "I don't know where that came from. They must have put it in my bag by mistake."
"I laughed and said, 'Sure, sure.' I'd say that too if I were you."
But he didn't rush up and turn it off. Instead he started saying like "Oh, that's sick and that's gross or I can't believe they're doing that." I told him I got sucked off by a drunk dude once at a party and that it was way better than getting blown by a chick.
Sure enough, that piqued his interest and he kept asking me how it was better but I played it off. "You know," I finally told him, "a dude knows just the right pressure and suction to use and knows right where to flick his tongue. It was the best wad I ever shot, but you're not gay so you'll never experience it and should stop thinking about it." Of course, every time he'd tell me about Carlee sucking him, I'd say something about how amazing it was getting blown by that dude. Once he asked me if the dude was still around and I knew I had him hooked.
The next time I went to tutor him at his apartment he was alone. I slipped into the head, unrolled all the toilet paper off the roll, and stuffed it in my bag. I just left the cardboard tube on the roller. Later, after tutoring, we watched another video and I acted all horny like usual and then excused myself to use the head. I shut the door but left it unlocked. I started beating my meat until I jizzed in my hand. Then I called out to Ricky for help. Of course, he started freaking out when he saw me sitting there with a glistening boner and a hand full of jizz. "I didn't notice you were out of TP until I shot my wad. Sorry to trouble you, but can you get me some more?" I asked him.
He stammered and slid past me and pulled a roll out of the cabinet and sort of tossed it to me. He definitely checked out my boner, though. That's what I wanted know if he would do. After I came out, I apologized that whole scene and said I hoped seeing my boner didn't freak him out. He claimed it was no biggie. I asked if he was still horny from the movie and needed a turn in the head. I told him I was thinking about that one dude's blowjob when I beat off in there and how good it was. "Probably why I jizzed so much," I said. Then I floated the big question. "If you wanted, like if you're really horny and if you promised not to tell anybody I did it for you, I'd show you how much better it is getting blown by a guy." I watched closely for his immediate reaction. He didn't cringe.
"Just to show me, right? Not a gay thing or like that, right?" He said.
"Oh yeah, gross. Of course not a gay thing. Plus, you could use it like research to try and teach Carlee how to do it better, you know? It's like tutoring, just in a different subject, you know?" I said jokingly.
"Well …" he started and then hesitated. "Why are you willing to do that for me?" I smiled. From the look on his face, I knew he was up for it.
"I have to be honest. The blowjob from that dude was so amazing, but he just kept going on about how much fun he was having doing it. I've wondered ever since what it would be like to suck one, but where would I ever get a chance to try it? Since I'm not gay and all, you know? But, you can't tell anyone, ever, that I did this to you if we try it," I added for a little push over the edge.
"Are you kidding, no way would I ever tell that, and if you ever do I'll smash you," he said.
The first time, I just let him pull his pud out of the fly of his button downs and boxers. The minimal exposure was less uncomfortable for him that way. He was only semi-hard but when I started licking the head, he boned up quickly. I knelt in front of him and gave him a good long sucking and he was moaning like crazy. I tongued all over it and licked it like a Tootsie Pop. He wasn't that big, so I could suck his entire pole into my mouth. He was squirming and bucking and clenching his fists while I worked him over. "Fuck man that is gnarly. It is way better getting from a dude."
He started to pull away when he felt the orgasm hit, but I grabbed his butt and pulled him back in. I swallowed his whole wad and licked him clean. He was hooked. He admitted it was way better than Carlee. Carlee always refused to take his wad in her mouth so I won out just on that alone.
Later, we progressed slowly until he was sucking me "just to see how it is." We were eventually having the hottest "this isn't really gay" sex you can imagine. How he talked himself into believing getting pounded up the butt by another guy wasn't "really gay" is beyond me, but whatever; I was getting what I wanted and the emotional scars were up to him to sort out later I supposed. He became an easy opportunity to get my rocks off when I needed some action so it was all good. His roomie almost caught us in the act once and I thought Ricky was gonna have a heart attack on me. He would only do stuff at my pad after that. In truth, it really wasn't gay love; it was just sex for the fun of it. There was no emotional attachment involved at all.
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