Date: Sat, 18 Nov 2000 00:51:19 EST
From: Nails Nelson <nailsb69@hotmail.com>
Subject: Basketball Camp, Chap 7
Warning: This chapter contains passion between a man and a teenager - NO
sex, but almost! If this is not to your liking, WHY ARE YOU HERE? LEAVE!
Otherwise, enjoy! Send me comments, please.
SO CLOSE!!
Basketball Camp, Chap. 7
By Bob Nelson
Standing on my front porch we hug and look deep into each other's eyes.
Hazel eyes, all turning green in the rise of our lust and passion. I open
the door quickly, as I know we'll do more than hug! Just inside my front
door we grab each other and kiss. Really kiss and I feel like I'm falling
-- falling deep into David's wonderful, greening hazel eyes. I lose
awareness of anything except his eyes -- tunnel vision -- then feel like I'm
over the edge, falling faster and faster. Everything narrows down until it
goes black. Blackout!
{Power failure? Stroke?? I wonder, as I lose consciousness.}
David grabs me and eases me down onto my hall carpet, laying me on my back,
checking for pulse and respiration, he later tells me. He later tells me I
was out for about four minutes. He has the time hack, in case I wonder
which four! My hall is fairly warm, so he does not get a blanket or
covering for me. Just waits. The best and nicest thing he can do.
After my unexpected and unscheduled nap, I flutter my eyelids as I start
returning. My first impression is "I'd better get to the toilet!" My
second is, "I drooled all down my cheek." and my third is "David is HERE,
holding my head!" That is the one that brings me all the way back to
reality. I try to sit up and feel him push me gently back down, as he
says,
"Not yet, Bob. You just blacked out for a few. No vital signs disrupted,
no apparent cause, so I let you sleep while I stayed here. Welcome back,
but no, you can't get up for another few minutes."
He sounds so professional! My highest compliment for anyone, from ditch
digger to Attorney General of the U.N. is "Totally Professional" and David
exudes confidence, self confidence, and calmness. Exactly what I need to
relax and know "All's well, David has it in complete control." I let this
thought drift through the haze that still remains in and in front of me,
then smile as I rise to the next level of consciousness, realizing "I'm
being cared for by a sixteen year old boy -- a wonderful 16 year old boy --
My David, the Perfect 16 year old boy!" I smile at him as I turn to look
him in the face... still in a semi dream state, but imagining and projecting
in that Never-never space how wonderful it will/would be to have him always
there when I wake up! I close my eyes on that thought to relish it, rewind
and replay it, and store it in long-term memory. Ah --- mmmmm. David sees
what I am doing so gives me a few moments, then asks,
"Got all this stored away for later viewing? Hmmm?"
That got me fully awake! My eyes pop wide open and I sit half way up before
David can react.
"How do you do that? It's wonderful but eerie to have you echo my thoughts
or answer them! I don't feel your presence in my mind, but you must always
be there, we must be connected. And I love it! Do you feel it?"
"Yes, Love. I began feeling it at the lake. If I am 'Your David', and I
plan to be forever, then that is 'Our Lake' no matter what others may call
it. I can feel little bits and pieces of your thoughts. Nothing specific,
just knowing that we are connected is so fantastic! Don't you agree, my
Bob?"
"Yes, My David, My Love. Probably no one will believe us, none of your
friends, none of mine, and certainly not your parents! Good God, David!
We have been so busy, so caught up with falling in love that I just thought
of them! Not only will we have to create, convince and complete my
"friendship" between your father and me, what are we going to tell him about
our being in love!??!?!?"
"Not a damned thing," David answers calmly.
He just sits there, smiling gently at me like a father waiting for his
little boy to get over the Night Terrors, waiting for panic and fear to
pass. Smiling and softly stroking my hand that he's holding. He bends
forward to kiss me gently on the lips -- no tongue, no passion, just a
calming beatitude. My heart starts slowing -- then I realize it had been
racing. My breathing slows -- it had zoomed up, too. My flushed skin
starts to cool. In short, I come back from the edge of shock, after still
recovering from passing out! David just sits there, calmly, a perfect,
professional bedside manner. Aha! To the manner born! I calm down the
rest of the way as I feel us reconnect mentally.
"Yes, I will probably become an M.D. I felt you just think of that for me.
Thank you for the compliment. I hope I will always be a professional at
work, and your wild man in bed! Can I be your 'Wild Thing', Bob?"
"David, you are the perfect 'Wild Thang' to stir my juices, restore my youth
and vitality, and make life FUN again, in our off hours. When we are being
professionals, no one will be able to guess, but we will know what's going
on at all times, even if apart."
We both have happy tears spilling over, as we lean forward to kiss. No
gentle peck, no chaste brush, no butterfly kisses this time! Now is the
time to show it!! Lips crush together, not painfully, just firmly. We
both moan from all that's happened... not wanting to think about what may.
One of us puts out a probe -- a tongue to sample the waters. The other
responds immediately -- neither of us knowing or caring who started or who
responded. We are becoming two halves of the same being, and does the right
side of your mouth wonder or worry about what the left side is chewing?
Mine, neither.
Tongues duel just behind his teeth-my teeth, then attack, gain entry, and
revel in the joy of melting into each other. There is no "winner." Either
way it turns out, whether his tongue or mine is Top Tongue, we both win!
Instead of getting hotter and hotter, carried away with kissing, we
gradually slow down to lingering, tender kisses and soft caresses. For me
it is a realization that this may be the last night of his all too short a
stay, but we both sense that we will see each other soon, then lots, and
hopefully every day after my David becomes independent. Now he starts to
lift my shirt over my head. Without thinking, I raise my arms and let him.
But when he unbuckles my belt and starts to strip it away, I grab his
hands.
"No, David. Much as I want to, we can't. We CAN NOT make love until
you're eighteen."
"What? You let me get this hot, this close and then say NO? Why in Hell
not? WHY IN FUCK NOT?"
He's fighting me, struggling to get my pants open and off. He looks fierce
and his face is flushed, the muscles in his neck standing out from the
strain. He's strong, but I have to fight him off -- for both our sakes!
"If we have sex now, it will end our friendship! End our love, David!"
That slows him down some. He's still got his hands on my pants, but not
using all his strength.
"What the Hell do you mean, end it? Have you just been fucking around with
me, Bob? I can't believe that you can get this close, get me this hot and
not go all the way! If you really love me, we'll DO it! We'll make LOVE
the way we've been heading for two days! Please! Please, Bob!"
Now tears stream down his cheeks, his whole face has gone from loving to
violent anger to wretched dispair. He looks so miserable that I struggle to
hold back tears. I have to be stronger than him now, holding his hands to
keep him from unbuttoning my fly. Oh, it's so damned hard to resist this
boy-man, this man-boy, MY DAVID! But I have to! This flashes by in an
instant, then I get angry at his accusations and reply
"Hell NO, David! I would NEVER fuck with you that way! I LOVE YOU -- and
I always will! - - - - But if we
yield now it fuck up everything we have! Neither of us could ever act
"normal" afterward! I know our feelings are so intense for each other that
we'd give off vibes of glowing lust, smirks of satisfied sex, open for
anyone to read in our faces. Me, more than you, I'm sure. But could you
act like nothing had happened? Could you?"
Now I hold him to me to keep him from hitting me, or running away, or
whatever else he might do. His "fight or flight" mode is definitely
triggered! Mine, too, but I'm using it to overpower this strong,
almost-seventeen year old. Gradually he quits fighting me, takes his hands
off of my pants, then tries again to get away -- to escape. He realizes I'm
not letting him go. He sags, reaches around and hangs onto me, arms around
my waist, sobbing. He cries quietly for a few minutes, slows down,
snuffles and sniffs as he stops, and asks,
"Where can a guy get a Kleenex or a handkerchief around here?" with a woeful
look..
I whip my clean hanky out of my right rear pocket. Mom's training, "Never
leave home without a clean handkerchief in your pocket. If you have a runny
nose, take two. One for you and one for emergencies." This is definitely
one of those emergencies. I hold it up to his nose and tell him,
"Blow. - - Again! - - OK, you can take over," as I let him take the
handkerchief and blow his last two snorts into it. He quizzically looks at
me while holding it out.
"Keep it, in case you need it on the way back to the dorms. You never know
when the night air might give you the sneezy sniffles," I say, as I smile
down into his face which looks less devastated.
"But I still don't see why NOT, Bob! Just once, for God's sake! If I don't
take care of this load soon, I'll have Blue Balls that will throb and swell
up so every guy on the court will notice them! I can act like it didn't
happen and YOU CAN, TOO!"
"David, you're using the same arguments that guys use with girls, or girls
use on guys who don't want to have sex -- and I've run into a few straight
guys with morals that strong. They WILL be virgins when they get married!
I am NOT saying that it's morally right or wrong for us to have sex now. But
it is definitely wrong legally!! What I AM saying is that I could not act
like it didn't happen, and I really doubt you could either. No, you'd never
tell anyone, not even your best Bud, but it would show. Hell, how could
it not show if we reached our goal, our Nirvana? You are my ideal, and for
some reason you think I'm pretty good, too."
"Pretty GOOD? Hell, Bob, you are my ideal, too! I have known what I
wanted for over a year, now, and I've waited. Not having sex with any of my
buddies, except mutual jack offs. Each of us doing ourselves. Oh, I
touched Pete's peter once, just to feel it. Does that count as sex? He
touched mine, too. It was SUCH a rush! WOW! Blew my mind, and I wanted
to drop down and blow him, but I didn't! Doesn't that show that I could
handle it, could cover my real feelings? Oh, SHIT, Fuck, fuck, FUCK,
FUCK!! PLEASE! PLEASE?"
I hold him as he struggles once more to get free, to strip us both, intent
on having some kind of sex right now! He doesn't struggle as hard as he
did at first -- maybe he's changing his mind or realizing it's best we wait.
His tears of frustration begin leaking out again as he looks up at me,
quietly, with a pleading look on his face, his lower lip trembling, his
eyebrows asking, seeking approval. David's face is so extremely expressive
-- and gorgeous! It's one of the hardest things I've ever done to shake my
head NO, and hold him until he yields. This time he really slumps in my
arms, and would fall if I didn't hold him up. He chokes back some
sniffles, uses the handkerchief to give one long blast to clear his nose,
then looks back up,
"OK, dammit. You win. I guess it's not as urgent to you as it is to me.
You probably don't feel it as strongly."
I recognize his multi-prong attack, probing to see if my defenses have a
weak spot. First physical, then rage, then accusations of my playing with
his emotions, and now seeking my sympathy -- and maybe a slur on my ability
to perform sexually. He IS at the most ball-churning age, and anyone my age
could be considered over the hill, probably impotent! But MY balls ache for
release, too and he's felt my hardons about as often as I've felt his! Oh,
Damn it! He almost has me reconsidering -- maybe we can -- NO! Our needs
and wants do not overide the issues, the dangers. That doesn't matter to
him as he feels that his needs are stronger than anyone's ever have been!
I again shake my head No,
"David, MY David, I know how extremely strong the sex urges are at sixteen
and seventeen. Hell, I was always hard and horny! We didn't have the term
"Gaydar" and mine never worked, any way. If any of the guys I liked even
smiled at me, I'd figure they were ready for a roll in the hay and would
pursue them for a week! Most of them were kind and gentle, just kept
saying "No" until I got the idea. A few pounded on my face or bod until I
got the idea. One started calling me "The Queer" any time he saw me. I
was devastated until my best buddy told me that I had to call him that and
he'd call me that, AND that we'd call this loudmouth that, too.
Overexposure sure reduced the believability. BUT it scared the shit out of
me for a few days until my buddy got me to see I was ACTING like it was
true. That's what I'm afraid of -- one of us actng and looking different.
Probably me. YOU can show when you are amazed, happy, quizical, angry,
grim --- you have a tremendous range of emotions that are obvious from your
face -- but you may be sending more signals than you mean to, thinking
people will believe what you want them to. Have you acted in any plays?"
"What the fuck has that got to do with what we're going to do or not do,
right now, Bob?" he responds petulantly, tensing up again with a new scowl
on his face.
I kept the smile off my face, wondering if he were conscious or unconscious
of trying to push another button on me. It almost worked, but I took a deep
breath to gain time, so I could act, instead of react, as I respond,
"It has everything to do with it, David. And your new attack to see if
I'll yield just convinces me I'd better not.
Shall we talk about what we can do until I see you again? I will see you
again! I will plot, plan and work to see you as often as I can, and not
just wait for three to five days next summer! Now that I have found you,
and best of all, realize you feel the same, I will keep loving you, and
wait for you!!"
"You're not just shitting me, are you, Bob?" he asks, with glistening tears
on his lower lids. His expression shifts abruptly again. Now he looks like
a scared little kid, hurt, hopeful, a half-believing look on his face,
"No, and your phrasing is appropriate. I won't ever comment on your
cursing, a;though I don't think you curse very often. Tonight it just shows
the intensity of your feelings. Mine, too! Damn it to HELL! I want to
carry you into my bedroom and suck your cock until you explode and keep
sucking till those blue balls are drained and hurting from being emptied
COMPLETELY!! If I were a fucking man, I'd fuck you till you couldn't sit
down! - - But I won't. I can't -- and the way you aren't fighting me now,
I think you realize it, too. It is so damnably frustrating and so hard to
slow down after your heavenly hugs and erotic kisses!! If I let it happen
tonight, I wouldn't be able to get out of bed for two days! Your youthful
energy and passion would tear my ass up -- if you'll pardon the expression."
Finally, David smiles, then snorts and begins to giggle. Then he starts to
laugh as he realizes the change in my language and demeanor. GOOD! It
worked! I made a turn around which got through to him and took some of his
pressure off, trying to wear me down. I lean forward and down slightly to
brush my lips across his forehead. He looks up in surprise,
"Are you showing me that our passion is finished??? No more kisses on the
mouth?? I do NOT buy that, my Love!" as he pulls my head down so he can
plant a lip-numbing kiss on my mouth.
He holds it until we both have to pull back for lack of air. Whew!!! I
realize that I'd been holding my breath with David's lips so hot on mine!
Mmmm. We look at each other with an unspoken understanding and agreement.
No sex now. DAMN it's hard to keep such a promise. DAMNED HARD! He
giggles as he "hears" my thoughts.
"It sure IS hard, Bob, DAMNED HARD! It's about to rip out of my pants! I
need to use your bathroom to take care of it, or do I have to walk back to
the dorm with my balls aching and my dick pointing the way?"
I almost choke on his open way of looking at and commenting on the obvious.
So many of us learn to NEVER comment on anything sexual or relating to body
functions! Why not?
"Sure, my Love, go right down the hall, first door on the left. Plenty of
tissues, fresh towels, whatever you need. I think I'll wait till I'm ready
for bed. It always relaxes me and makes me sleepy right after I cum."
Now it's his turn to choke at my forthright, almost clinical comment. As
though no one else has ever done that or thought of it? Puritan or
Victorian leftovers, I guess. This boy is refreshingly free of those old
hangups. He smiles and pats me on the butt as he turns to go down the
hall. WHOOPS! THAT got Junior ready to play, again! No, I'll wait. If I
go jack off now in my bathroom, with him doing it right through the common
wall, I don't know if I can keep from going in to "help him out." Better
to wait. Hard to, though. - - - - - I go into the kitchen and get out some
gingerale, glasses and ice cubes. Neither of us needs caffeine after the
stimulation we've had, tonight!
In just a few minutes he comes into the kitchen looking like his pressure is
relieved. Good! He comments,
"Earlier you mentioned what I was thinking about -- worrying about what we
should do next! How will I come out to my folks, when you should or IF you
should, and what can we do before and after that? It WILL be hard to wait.
Hard every day and night. I'll try not to wear it out or get blisters on
it or my palm."
Now it's my turn to smile then giggle as I imagine him going to the School
Nurse to get his bandages changed! Hmmm, no, not likely. David gets
serious, now. He frowns, a partial scowl deepening his mood.
"Bob, I want to apologize."
"For what?" {I really can't think of what for.}
"For cussing you, fighting you, trying to force you to have sex with me. I
feel bad -- Hell, I felt bad then while I was doing it, but had to wait till
now to make sure you weren't just toying with me, ready to throw me away. I
love you so much I could never stop loving you, but got real scared that
your love was cooling -- or maybe never was as strong as mine. It would
have been easy for you to tell me what I have to do, fake a real argument,
then when I insisted on having sex NOW, you could have told me to get out
and never come back. Now I see you want to make love as much as I do --
well almost as much! I ask your forgiveness for acting like a spoiled
brat, insisting on my way."
While he was talking, David was looking down. He talked to the floor,
obviously nervouse and agitated. I visualize him twisting his toe in the
dirt. I wait about ten seconds after he's done before he looks up,
"Do you forgive me, Bob? I really mean it!" with hope, yearning.
As he waits, I can see the strain this has been on him, and the stress of
humbly apologizing.
"David, MY David, I completely accept your apology, though I really don't
think it was needed. I know, I know. It's important to you to clear the
air! You apologize, I accept. That way there is nothing left to molder,
either to catch fire with spontaneous combustion or to turn into the worst
pile of mildew you ever saw. Let's shake on it and never mention it
again!"
"Shake hands? Hell NO, I want a hug. I need a hug -- and I know you do,
too!"
We clinch in a really tight hug, like two drowning men hanging on to each
other in the hope they'll survive.
As we finish our gingerale I ask him,
"When will you be able to set up a visit here as a prospective early
acceptance? How and when are you going to set up how I meet your Dad?
First you have to build some believability that we're acquaintances, even if
not old and dear friends?"
David gets a serious, far away look on his face, thinking before answering,
"I'll see my Advisor as soon as I get back and let you know by e-mail when I
might be able to get back here.
We need to keep in contact and it's the only way we'll have. Thank God for
e-mail, and maybe we can add a voice message in most. I want to hear your
voice often! I'll miss you so much -- I won't forget you but I want every
bit of you I can have. As for Dad -- hmmm, let me think about that. If I
start asking him about his studies, kind of getting his perspective on
college when he began, when he went on to get his advanced degree, then ask
him about other guys he met doing the same thing. Maybe I can plant the
seed that there were some who could have been really good friends if they
lived closer... maybe some that he'll see again and renew the friendship.
Hell, he's so busy sometimes that Mom convinces him that he DID say this or
promise that, and in a few minutes, Dad agrees and really believes that he
just forgot."
This boy-man has much more depth than I realized. Depth and thinking, but
not devious. Well, not too devious. If it works it will make things SO
much easier. But "knowing" his Dad years ago, then "renewing" our
friendship is still a long way from eventually telling him that I'm in love
with his son! HOOOO BOY! That will be the day! David and I will have to
tread very carefully around that whirlpool to keep from getting pulled in,
sucked down, and destroyed. With these thoughts that we are both aware of,
David finishes his drink, sets the glass in my sink, and comes over for our
last hug and kiss. Tender, deep, meaningful, but with both of us holding
back on the fiery passions that could reignite us. I walk him to the door,
we exchange another peck on the lips, then I let him out and watch him
through the window in my front door. He goes whistling down my walk, as
though it's the most natural and innocent thing in the world. As he goes
behind the neighbor's hedge and out of sight, I sink into a chair in my
front room. Totally exhausted by the interplay of these powerful emotions.
It has been one HELLUVA two days! But with promise of more and better
things to come!
Well, off to bed, with a brief stop to "relieve the pressure in the balls."
Otherwise I'll toss and turn all night, remembering how David almost got
into my pants -- literally! Yes, Junior. You can come out to play......
and we'll worry about meeting his Dad "again," later!
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
This is a replacement for the chapter that was here. A loyal reader had the
guts to give me some honest appraisal, saying David sounded like a brochure,
not a passionate teenage. THANKS, Dan! Hope this sounds more realistic.
Send comments and suggestions to me, Bob Nelson or "Nails" at
NailsB69@hotmail.com and I shall reply!