Date: Tue, 14 Jan 2003 20:28:35 -0800 (PST)
From: Sean <seabear36@yahoo.com>
Subject: Too Far 3: Tainted Love

(The following story contains scenes of explicit sex
between an two teenaged boys. The story is true, from
my own life, so if you're offended work it out in
therapy or something. Your comments, reactions,
whatever are welcome at seabear36@yahoo.com.  Parts 1
and 2 of this story can be found at
http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/adult-youth/too-far/)

Too Far - 3: "Tainted Love"
By Seabear36

If I'd known how badly I was taking advantage of Ryan,
I probably wouldn't have manipulated him so.  But I
did, and I sometimes wonder what happened to him in
the twenty years since that afternoon in the August of
my 16th year.

We'd been working together doing yard clean-up at a
steel mill in Seattle that summer.  I was sixteen and
he was fifteen.  I'd had my first adult gay experience
in the locker room of the mill and my second in the
front seat of a pick-up at Woodland Park with a man
who now ignored me and looked right through me when
our paths crossed.  He had come in my ass and in my
mouth, and now he pretended like I didn't exist.

Ryan knew what had happened and he didn't seem to care
one way or the other.  We'd still work with our shirts
off under the hot sun.  We'd still sit on the riprap
bank of the ship canal with our shirts off and eat our
lunches and take brief catnaps.  I'd still try to
catch glimpses of the bulge of his penis and balls
through his jeans, and I'd feel a thrill when his
pants rode down far enough to reveal the curves of his
hips and the faint suggestion of the start of his ass
crack.

I realize now that he looked up to me.  He lived on a
small farm well out of town and I lived in the heart
of the city.  I was comfortable around computers and I
had almost unlimited access to the latest arcade video
games because I had friends that worked in arcades
across the city.  I was one of the first people he
ever met who understood his passion for science
fiction and for role playing games.

I also know that it's just about impossible to
convince a sober straight man to suck a cock, even if
he is 15 and even if he is horny.  Ryan must have had
some curiousity about it, right?  He must have been
bisexual for him to even consider it, right?  I still
don't know.  I do know that he got married not long
after he left high school and that he has kids that
are going to college right now.

We didn't talk much about what had happened between
Tim and I in the locker room and at the park.  Ryan
did ask me what it was like and I was honest.  It was
scary, and exciting, and it was the most incredible
thing I'd ever felt in my life.  I'd fucked girls -
well, a girl - and this was much better for that.  He
seemed skeptical, and didn't bring it up any more.

One Friday as we were clocking in, our boss came up
and told us that we were going to help set up for the
company picnic.  We got into a van and drove to an old
ballroom near a small lake somewhere outside of
Renton.  We helped set up tables and made sure there
wasn't any trash on the grounds.  We broke for lunch
and found a small, rickety dock sticking out into the
muddy lake.  It was very hot for Seattle, in the upper
80s, and the air was still and heavy.  The water
looked inviting.

I told Ryan I was going to go for a swim, and he
looked at me like I was crazy.  He asked about a
swimsuit, and I told him I didn't need one.  I
hesitated for a second, wondering who might walk up
but decided I didn't care.  I shucked my jeans and
underpantsand pulled off my shirt and dropped into the
water.  It was cool and refreshing.

Ryan stayed on the dock for a moment, watching me and
looking around.  His shirt was already off.  I told
him to jump in, that no one would see and if they did
who cared.  He said that he wasn't worried about other
people seeing.

I grinned and swam over to the edge of the dock.  I
rested my arms on the edge of the dock and let my body
float on the surface.  I knew he could see my back and
ass, because he was looking right at them. "Come on,"
I told him again.

He stood up and quickly took off his jeans.  He stood
there on the dock in his white briefs.  I tried not to
look, but I could see the outline of his cock and his
balls clearly now.  His tan, flat stomach almost
reached the waistband of his underpants, but there was
a very white line about an inch high above the
waistband.  His legs were tan, but not as deeply
tanned as his torso and back and arms.  He moved to
the edge of the dock; it looked like he was about to
jump in with his underpants on.  I told him he didn't
want to walk around with wet underwear all day.  He
looked at me for a second and I could tell he was
mulling something over.  I turned away from him and
swam a few lengths out.  I heard a splash, turned
around and he was in the water.  I took a quick look
where he had been standing and saw his underpants
there on the dock.

He grinned at me when he came up from  the water.  His
hair was matted down, his brown eyes were dancing with
light, and his broad grin and white teeth shone at me
like a lighthouse.  The water was too murky to make
out his penis, but when he jackknifed into a dive his
white ass would rise out of the water.  I felt myself
getting hard in the cold water.  I wonderd if he was,
too.

We didn't have a lot of time, but it felt like we
spent a good part of the afternoon there.  When we
heard the guy we were working with calling for us, we
scrambled out of the water.  We brushed the water off
ourselves as well as we could and pulled our clothes
on.  I tried to catch a glimpse of his penis, but all
I could see were his balls hanging between his legs
and a flash of pubic hair as he zipped his pants
closed.  He kept his back to me, though, and the image
of his narrow, soft ass was embedded into my mind.
I'd be jacking off to this image later.

We finished up our work and piled into the van for the
hour-long drive back to the steel mill.  Ryan either
went to sleep or pretended as if he did.  He leaned
against me and I put my arm around him and rubbed his
upper arm with my thumb.  He woke up before we got
back, but he stayed in my arm.  The driver didn't pay
any attention to us.  I didn't care if he did or not.

I rode my bike home on a cloud.  I felt like I'd just
had a perfect first date.  I wanted to move, to think,
to remember, so I angled toward Green Lake and rode
around a couple of times to let my mind wander.  It
wasn't just his body that I lusted after.  It was him.
 It was the way he grinned.  It was the excitement in
his voice when he talked about a book he had just
read, or when we talked about those things in the
world that you think you are discovering for the first
time.  I liked hearing about his friends in school,
about the things he did for fun, and about the things
he liked to do alone.  I was falling in love with him.
  I wanted him in my life and I would have wanted him
as a friend even if we never had sex.

But that sex...  When I went to bed and masturbated hat
night, I closed my eyes and pictured him standing on
the dock in his underpants.  I imagined him slowly
pulling down his underpants and flashing that grin at
me.  I thought of him sitting on the edge of the dock,
his legs in the water, and I imagined myself drifting
between his legs and sucking him off as he sat there.
A series of images from the summer entered my mind -
Ryan with his shirt off, weeding, his ass in the air;
Ryan behind the rolling mill, peeing against the side
of the building and looking over his shoulder at me
and laughing.  Looking down at Ryan's shoulder and
neck from behind as we sat next to the ship canal.
Ryan's ass, tiny droplets of water clining to his pale
white cheeks, his bare hand brushing the water off as
we got dressed.  Ryan's ass...   I came with his grin in
my mind's eye, his brown eyes looking at me and
watching the puddles of semen collect on my stomach.
I opened my eyes and looked at my dark bedroom
ceiling, and I could just see him like the ghost image
of a bright image.

Monday morning was uneventful.  At lunch time, as we
sat at our usual spot along the ship canal, he said
that he'd had a lot of fun Friday and that it was too
bad we couldn't go swimming again.  I told him I'd
love to go swimming again.  He said that he'd have to
bring swim trunks next time and I laughed.  "You liked
it without them," I said.  He nodded and took another
bite from his sandwich.

I took a deep breath.  "You're cute," I said.

He smiled.  "You're only saying that because you saw
my butt."

"I thought that before I saw it," I said.

We sat in silence for a few minutes.  The locks must
have just opened, because a line of boats was heading
east into the Fremont Cut.  We watched them for a
couple of minutes.

Ryan kept his eyes on the boats.  "I don't know if I
can handle this."

"Handle what?" I asked.

"You know," he said.

"No, " I said.

"You're my best friend," he said, "but you look at me
and want to have sex with me."

I nodded.

He opened his mouth a few times like he was about to
say something.  But we finished off our lunch in
silence and sat together next to the ship canal and
watched the world go by.

When the whistle blew, we got up and went back to our
work.

I can tell you exactly where it happened.  I can take
you to the parking lot of the Fred Meyer that they
built where the steel mill used to be and point to a
spot where there used to be a wooden shed, and where
there were weeds and tall grass that would hide you
from anyone passing by.

We were just starting to clear that part of the yard.
We worked for a few minutes and he opened up the door
to the shed.  It was dark and cool and smelled of old
dirt and oil and mice.  There were ancient yard tools
in it, rusted and rotting, and I guessed that it must
have been the old yard shop.  He looked at me for a
second and pulled the door closed behind us.  It was
dark, but enough light got through the gaps in the old
walls that I could see.

He was right in front of me.  I felt his hand
tentatively brush against my jeans. I reached out and
touched his arm and pulled it closer.  His hand closed
around me, touching and probing.  I reached out and
touched him, felt the rough denim and the hardening
rod beneath.  His breath drew in sharply and a slight
moan escaped his lips.

I drew my face next to his, thinking about kissing
him.  "Oh, Ryan," I whispered in his ear.

"Don't talk," he said.

He undid my belt.  He unbuttoned my 501s slowly at
first and then quickly pulled them apart.  He rubbed
my cock through my underpants and then slipped his
fingers in the waistband.  His fingers touched my
cock, they wrapped around it and squeezed.  I reached
for his pants but he backed away.

Outside, I could hear the magnetic crane in the scrap
pile loading a box car. The switch engine was passing
close to the metal shed.  The echoing clangs and bangs
of  the mill were a steady rhythm underlying
everything that happened.

I could see Ryan in the dim light of the shed.  I was
standing there, my jeans and underpants drawn down to
mid thigh, and he was looking at me and looking at
something inside himself.  A cloud of turmoil seemed
to roil behind his eyes, but in one quick move he
crouched in front of me and took my cock into this
lips I'd dreamed of so often.  I'd dreamed of his grin
when I brought him off, when he looked at me after
he'd come in my mouth.  I'd never dared dream of them
wrapped around my cock, though.

I put my hands on his shoulders and touched his hair,
but he brushed them away.  I leaned back against the
old workbench and rested my arms there.  He was rough.
 He didn't use his tongue, and he just bobbed his head
up and down on the shaft and didn't make love to it
like I thought he should.  I tried to moan when he did
something I liked, but it didn't seem to do anything.

I pulled him up by his shoulders.  My cock was wet
with his spit.  He didn't look me in the eye.  I knelt
in front of him and opened his pants.  I pulled out
his cock - it seemed large for his frame, but it was
still smaller than mine.  It smelled so much better
than Tim's had.  There was some sweat, but also the
smell of Ivory soap.  I licked the shaft and the head.
 It was hard as a rock, but the skin was softer and
smoother than Tim's had been.  Tim was also about 20
years older than Ryan, though. I pulled Ryan's pants
down and took the small shaft into my mouth.  I
nestled my nose against his pubic hair and sniffed
deeply.  I felt the pulsing of blood in his cock and
savored the heat of it in my mouth.  I put my hands on
his ass and carressed it, running my fingers across it
lightly as I began to work on his shaft and head.  He
moaned and bucked.  My fingers circled their way
toward his butt hole, reaching slightly closer with
each orbit.  I pulled his nuts into my mouth and
sucked them, then went back to his cock and tickled
the fold of skin on the underside with my tongue,
biting and suckling it.

He pulled me up and dropped in front of me.  He was a
quick learner.  He put his hands on my bare ass and
pulled me toward him.  He licked my nuts, he sucked
and licked the underside of my cock.  His tongue
danced around the edge of my cock-head and poked into
my cum-slit.  He tugged and pulled on my balls.  He
pressed his fingers around my ass hole, almost
touching it.

He took up a steady rhythm on my cock.  Long, slow
sucks and a hand stroking the spit-soaked shaft as he
drew back.  I could feel it coming.  I could feel my
legs beginning to shudder.  I told him I was coming so
he could pull off so he didn't get a mouthful of come.
 But he didn't.  He just hummed an yes to me as his
lip-strokes became slower and more deliberate.  I
couldn't stand it.  I had to hold myself up because my
legs were starting to buckle and spasm. His breathing
was coming faster and faster and he moaned loudly.  I
looked down and saw wads of come flying from his cock
and landing in the dirt between my feet.  Seeing this
caused my own orgasm built and then held for a moment
and then I felt the warm fluid surging through my cock
and into this boys mouth.  He gagged and sputtered,
but I held his head firmly and unloaded my nuts into
his unwilling mouth.

As soon as I let go he backed away from me with his
face screwed up in a disgusted wince.  His lips were
tightly closed but a few fat drops of cum leaked out.
He looked around and dropped to his hands and knees in
the dirt and spit a thick gob of white come  into the
dirt.  It landed with a wet splat.  He began to heave
and after a few gut-wracking coughs spit his lunch up
on top of it.

He quickly pulled his pants up and almost ran out of
the shed.  I straightened myself out, kicked some dirt
over the pile of come and vomit, and followed.  He was
far away.  The last I saw of him, he was heading for
the office where his mother and my father worked.  I
worried for a moment that he would say something, but
he didn't and as far as our parents know he just got
sick from working around the chemicals and waste that
summer.

I never did see him again.  It was already late August
and the job was going to be over at the end of the
following week.  On the next day when  I went to clock
out my boss called me into his office and told me that
he'd decided to stop the job early since we were
almost done and Ryan wasn't coming back.  I was happy
to hear that because working without Ryan even for
that one day was so boring it was torture.  I got to
the time clock at the same time as Tim.

"I heard you got laid off," he said, "do you want a
ride home?"  I told him yes, thinking that some more
sex might get me out of my funk.  But he just took me
home.  He asked me if he could call me sometime so we
could get together, and I told I didn't think so.   He
nodded and said that was probably best since he could
go to jail over my ass.  I smiled and waved goodbye as
he drove off.

I worried for a moment that I'd just sent off a great
sex partner, but then I realized there were more out
there.

A lot more.