My Boyfriend
by Victor Thomas
Chapter 11
I slept in the next morning, finally getting out of bed around nine o'clock. I quickly got dressed and went downstairs to find mom and dad both in the living room.
"How was your game last night, son?" dad asked as soon as I walked into the room.
"It was great, dad," I said. "I scored two touchdowns, including the winning touchdown at the very end of the game."
I explained everything that had happened during the game. I could tell that dad was pleased with my performance, while mom was mostly bored.
"Now that you're up, I think I'll go make breakfast," she said. "What would you guys like?"
"Why don't we just go out to eat?" dad suggested. "We can celebrate our son's winning play. If that's okay with you, Scott."
"I'm fine with that, dad, I said, grinning.
We all put on a light jacket as we left. It is almost the end of October after all, and while it's still nice outside, it does get a little cool. It's too bad we can't have weather like this year-round.
We drove the short distance to the Chouteau Café , the only restaurant in town that serves breakfast.
I guess the best way to describe the Chouteau Café is Chouteau nostalgia. There were all kinds of old pictures of buildings and other places around the town, some probably dating back to the early days of the town, as well as lots of old antique and other stuff from the town's history, which goes back over a hundred and fifty years. I kind of like the feel of the place and sometimes wonder what it would have been like to live back then.
As I thought about it however, I realized that as bad as gay people are sometimes treated today, it was probably a hundred times worse for them back then. Not to mention all the discrimination against African Americans and other minorities. Compared to that, I guess I've got it pretty good, even though I still wouldn't feel safe coming out.
As I was looking around and thinking, our waiter, a boy I go to school with named Weston, walked up to our table.
"Hi, Scott," he said. "You guys ready to order?"
"Hey, Weston," I said. "I think we are. I think I'll have the farmer's breakfast.
"Are you sure you can eat all that, Scott?" he asked. "That's a lot of food for one person."
"I think so," I said. "I'm hungry as hell."
The farmer's breakfast is absolutely huge. It's been called the feeding frenzy by a lot of the locals.
"You want anything to drink with that?" he asked.
"Just tea, I think," I told him.
"Sweet or unsweet?" he asked.
"Sweet," I answered.
"And for you, Ms. McCall?" he asked.
"I think I'll just have two eggs over easy, bacon, hash browns and toast," she said. "And I think I'll have tea as well."
"Sweet or unsweet?" he asked.
"Sweet," she said.
"White or wheat bread for your toast?"
"Wheat."
"And finally, Mr. McCall. What can I get for you?" he asked.
"I'll have a ham and cheese omelet, hash browns and toast," dad said.
"White or wheat?" Weston asked.
"White."
"Anything to drink?"
"I think I'll have sweet tea as well," dad said.
"I'll get your orders in and have your drinks right out," he said and departed.
I watched his butt as he walked away. Nice ass, I thought. Weston is not the best-looking boy in school, but he's not bad either. I wouldn't turn down the opportunity to get with him. Well, maybe I would since I'm dating Brian, but before that I wouldn't have.
He came back about two minutes later carrying our drinks, as well as the silverware. He sat everything down in front of us and departed again.
Our breakfast arrived about fifteen minutes later. It filled most of the table between us. The farmer's breakfast included biscuits and gravy, ham, sausage, bacon, hashbrowns, pancakes, and three eggs.
"Are you sure you can eat all that?" Weston asked again. "That's a lot of food for one person."
"I'm gonna try," I said. "I didn't realize it would be this much."
"He can share some of it with me," dad said.
The three of us sat there, eating and talking. My parents really are good parents, even if they occasionally get on my nerves. I'm sure I get on their nerves occasionally as well. If only they could accept that I'm gay and dating Brian. I knew that was probably pushing things a little far, however.
Dad and I talked mostly about last night's game, which kind of left mom out of the conversation. We also included her in other topics, however. I could tell dad was really proud of my performance last night.
We sat in the Chouteau Café for close to two hours while I finished off my breakfast. Dad ended up eating part it, but between the two of us we managed to finish it off.
Dad picked up the check, left a generous tip for Weston, and we walked to the front so he could pay.
"What are you planning for this afternoon?" he asked as we walked toward the car.
"Probably just hang out with my friends," I said. "Later tonight is the Halloween party."
"At the cemetery?" he asked.
I looked at him. How did he know about that?
"Yeah," I admitted. "How did you know about that?"
"Son, that party has been going on since before your grandfather was in high school. It's been an annual Chouteau tradition forever."
"So, you went to them as well?"
"Yes, son, I did, as did your grandpa and probably your great grandpa as well," he said. "I know all about it. Just be careful and don't drink too much." He glanced over at mom. "That's off the record," he said, for her benefit. "Just have fun, just don't do anything stupid."
"Thanks, dad."
Mom didn't look to happy, but she didn't say anything.
We drove home and I went up to my room for a couple of minutes, quickly brushed my teeth and then headed back downstairs and out to my car. I wanted to get to Brian's house as quickly as I could, and it was all I could do not to speed as I drove. I probably should have called him, I thought, but I wasn't going to turn around and go home just for that. Maybe I can talk my parents into getting me one of those new cell phones that I've heard about. Probably not. He knew I was coming and would be waiting on me. It's only about a twenty-minute drive down to his house and I arrived a few minutes later.
As soon as I pulled into Brian's driveway, he opened the door and came out to the car. He glanced around and then leaned over and kissed me, before leading me into his house, and straight to his room. Neither of his parents were home so we had the house to ourselves.
"I've been really looking forward to today," I said.
I wanted to say more, but the words just wouldn't come. I felt stupid for being so awkward and shy, but I was so happy, I didn't care. I felt like I could walk on air.
"Me too," he said, smiling.
He was always smiling. That's one of the many things I loved about him. I could read all sorts of things in his smile just then. It was sweet, caring, mischievous, sensual, and just a touch wicked. The wicked part was particularly intriguing.
It was a moment we'd both been waiting for. When it came down to it, however, I was so nervous I was actually trembling. It had started on the stairs, but was worse now that we were actually in his room. My heart raced, and I had a major case of butterflies in my stomach yet again.
He sat on the edge of his bed while I sat next to him. We silently gazed at each other. Both of us knew what we were thinking, but still it wasn't easy. We both sat there, smiling shyly at each other. I felt distinctly stupid. I'd dreamed about this since we'd met. At last, that moment had come and I was too shy to even speak. I wasn't the same boy who went wild on the football field. What was the matter with me? Why was being with him so difficult? It wasn't like we hadn't done anything before, but today was different. I was sure we were going to go all the way this afternoon, something neither of us had done before.
I gazed at him. He was exceptionally good looking anytime, but his shyness made him cuter than ever. My eyes wondered down his torso, to his bulging crotch. Just looking at him made me feel all warm inside. He was beautifully built, a boy anyone could find appealing. My gaze roamed over his well-shaped form and rested finally on his eyes. He smiled at me with a knowing, loving look, and leaned toward me.
My heart was pounding in my chest as we kissed. He was the boy of my dreams. I didn't feel I deserved him; it all seemed too good to possibly be true. I silently prayed that it wasn't all some sort of dream. If I awakened to find there was no Brian in my life, I wouldn't have wanted to live a moment longer.
I looked at him timidly. I was almost afraid to touch him. I knew that I had to make the moves, however. He was far shyer than me, but at the moment I wondered if that was possible. I felt like the shyest boy in the entire world. Why did I feel that way? I'd held him in my arms before, and I'd kissed him. We'd made out and even sucked each other's dicks, but somehow it was different now. It had far more meaning. Both of us knew what we wanted, but we were both too afraid to make the first move. I summoned all my courage and drew in a deep breath.
Slowly, almost hesitantly, I reached out to him and to the life I knew could be mine at last. I gently guided him to his feet and we stood facing each other, mere inches apart. I wrapped my arms around his slim waist, drew him close, and hugged him tight. I felt secure in his embrace, and I felt loved as I never had been before. His love flowed through me like a physical force. I can't begin to describe it. Even a poet could take a lifetime and not be able to accurately relate to the pure bliss that comes from being loved. Loving another is a wonderful thing, but being loved by another is the most extraordinary feeling in the world.
He felt so good in my arms, his firm body pressed against my own. I could feel his heartbeat, feel his sweet, hot breath on my neck, feel his warmth. I nuzzled my nose to his hair, drinking in his scent. It intoxicated me.
I cared about him so much my heart ached, and I was so happy to be with him it almost hurt. I wanted to protect him… help him… make him happy every moment of his life. I wanted to hold him forever in my arms and never let him go.
We loosened our grip and pulled back just enough so that we could gaze into each other's eyes. Our noses were barely an inch apart. I felt as if he was gazing into my very soul. I wanted to draw him in, make him a part of me, and let him feel the depth of my love for him. I wanted him to understand just how much he meant to me. I wanted the two of us to be one. He nudged forward and rubbed his nose on mine.
I could feel his sweet breath upon me. We nudged forward hesitantly, awkwardly, until our lips met. Our kiss was gentle, halting, our lips barely brushing each other. As our hunger deepened, we kissed more forcefully, yet gently still. Our lips parted and our tongues entwined, gliding across and around each other. His kiss was warm and pure.
We parted for a moment, smiles turning up the edges of our mouths. He nuzzled my nose with his and kissed me again. I wrapped my arms more tightly around him and held him close as our lips and tongues intertwined again. I'd waited a painful eternity for this moment, and this moment alone was worth it all. Had I died just them I would've died content.
Our pace quickened, and our hearts began to race. He sought out my earlobes with his lips, sending me into an ecstasy of which I'd only dreamed.
We kissed passionately, holding each other tight, and then our hands began to explore. His body was strong, firm, and tight. His manner seemed such a contrast to his form. His movements were soft, gentle. His merest touch set me aflame with passion, awakening my desire in a way no one else ever could. It didn't matter what I was doing with him, just so I was with him. I was in love.
My passion made me bold, more like my true self. I pulled his shirt over his head and ran my hands over his beautiful torso. He was so smooth and firm. Touching him excited me beyond what I'd previously thought possible. Everything with him was new and exhilarating. I felt alive as I never had before. I pulled him to me and kissed him again, running my hands through his beautiful blond hair. Everything about him was filled with beauty.
I pulled my lips from his and chewed on his neck. I playfully bit at his shoulder, then lowered my lips to his chest. His skin was soft and silky, his chest hard and warm. My mouth opened and I explored his chest with my lips and tongue, licking him and biting him playfully. The soft moans that escaped from his lips filled my heart with joy.
Our pace grew more hurried as our passion began to consume us. He tore my shirt over my head and pushed me back on the bed. He was on top of me in moments, surprising me with his aggressiveness. His lips and tongue were all over me, and I experienced pleasure I hadn't before that day.
I pushed his pants down as he lay on top of me. In moments, he yanked my jeans down to my ankles, too. We kicked them off and were soon completely naked on the bed together, him still on top of me. I never dreamed he could be so aggressive.
We explored every inch of each other, each touch, each caress a delight. Our hands were everywhere all at once; our lips and tongues the same. My hunger for him was unbounded, as was his for me. At times, our love was unhurried. At others, nearly frantic. Unhurried or no, it was intense beyond imagination. No flame of passion ever burned as hot or as bright.
I experienced things today I never had before. It was all just as wonderful and beautiful as I had dreamed, and it was all because of him. I loved him with all my heart, everything that we did together was an expression of our love. Our hearts pounded in our chests; our breath came in gasps. Him and I sweated with exertion… and still we kept making love. The hours passed and we still caressed and explored one another. We didn't pause until late that afternoon, evening really.
When we grew still at last, I nuzzled up against him, feeling his warm skin against my own. I rested my head on his smooth, strong chest, hypnotized by the gentle rhythm of his heart. I fell asleep in his embrace and slept as I never had before.
We both woke up about two hours later, just in time to get ready for the Halloween party.
I don't know how many times him and I had climaxed together. Six? Seven times. Oh, how I wished we could've made love forever. I yearned to go at it again, but his parents were home by now and the risk was too great. I contented myself with kissing him over and over again. We had done things earlier that I'd only dreamed about before. I felt closer to him and more in love with him than ever before.
We took a quick shower, got dressed, walked down to the living room to let his parents know we were going out, and then climbed into my car and drove back toward Chouteau.
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