Date: Wed, 10 Mar 2004 06:48:16 -0800 (PST)
From: Tim Mead <timmead88@yahoo.com>
Subject: "Dr. Tim and the Boys," ch. 44

The following fictional narrative involves sexually-explicit erotic events
between men.  If you shouldn't be reading this, don't.

In the world of this story, the characters don't always use condoms.  In
the real world, you should care enough about yourself and others to always
practice safe sex.

The author retains all rights.  No reproductions or links to other sites
are allowed without the author's consent.

The first section of this chapter was written by PLM, who some time ago
came up with the term "the Nifty Six." Thanks, P., for the name and for
this opening scene!  Thanks to Johnny for helping me understand Tim a
little better as he struggles with the problem of Rick.  And I'm always
grateful to Tom W., my invaluable editor and occasional co-author, as well
as to my other Nifty Six friends, Patrick, Ash, Mickey, and Evan.

timmead88@yahoo.com

Chapter 44: Some Guilt and Some Joy

[Philip Halifax wrote a column for the university newspaper, and he aspired
to be a writer.  Like many writers, he kept a kind of journal or diary.
Like most who do so these days, he wrote it on his pc.  The following is an
unedited fragment from his pc journal.  I include it because I think it
shows his state of mind at the time of these events. -- TM]

My drive, to work for the liberation of GLBT kids, has done some damage I
never intended, or expected.

I may have done some psychological damage to my G-man, too!  God . . . .  I
think I'm falling in love w/him . . . fast!!  And, shit, I thought I wuz
gonna play the field for years!  Who'd a thunk it??

Max doesn't trust me.

Sometimes, I don't even trust me.  Is that screwed up, or what?  BUT
. . . I'm NOT a bitch!  I'm NOT cruel, just mixed up.  Sighhhhhhh

My writing served a purpose in describing what happened in FL.  I was just
trying to report what happened.  I NEVER wanted to hurt anyone, but my
article is now forcing peeps to come out!

I'm so scared now.  Yeppers . . . me . . . the big know-it-all mega Prez.
Why can't life just be simple?  Why can't ppl just get along?  I guess I
never realized how powerful the press can be.

Am I growing up, or just growing stoopid, man?

Hey, if all those guys only knew just a part of what I had gone through as
a kid, maybe they'd have a different take on the me that is me now.

I just went back and read what I have written.  Why am I always talking
about ME??  I'm wondering why I'm always obsessed about ME?  Gotta do some
MAJOR thinking about that.  Maybe I gotta think more about my G. than me.
Does any of this make sense?  If so, please explain me to me.

I'm really down tonight.

I'm so afraid.

* * *

CEDRIC:

I came in just in time to hear Tim say to someone on the phone, "Is he a
criminal?  Is there something about him that would give us reason to say he
had misrepresented himself?  And how do you happen to know about Rick?"

I assumed he was talking to Doug, and his questions grabbed my attention.

"Rick Modarelli is?  I find that hard to believe."  Pause.  "Yes, of
course.  I understand.  Certainly he would.  It's just that I found the guy
so likable.  Well, sure, if he's capable of that, he'd be capable of any
sort of duplicity."  Pause.  "Well, you deal with Doug as you see fit."
Pause.  "I honestly don't know.  You're the lawyer.  There isn't anything I
can do at this point, is there?  I don't even know whether that sort of
hearsay would have been grounds for saying anything to Gwen even before we
offered him the job."  Pause.  "Yes, well, I understand.  We need to talk
about this again after you've discussed it with Doug."  Pause.  "Yeah, I
feel like I'd been kicked in the gut, frankly.  Please give Doug our love.
And Cedric sends love to both of you," he said, looking at me.  "Yes, soon.
Goodbye for now, Stan."

Tim did look as if he'd been kicked in the gut.

"What the fuck was that all about, babe?"

"In a nutshell, Rick Modarelli is the reason Doug isn't at Cranmer.  He's
the reason Doug quit teaching."

"No way!"

"That's what I thought until Stan explained."

"So, what happened?"

"Let's have a glass of wine.  It's not too early is it?"

"Well, it's only 4:30, but under the circumstances, let's do it."

We went into the kitchen and poured ourselves glasses of shiraz.  We took
them back into the living room and fell into the chairs that faced each
other at right angles to the sofa.  I unlaced my shoes, took them off, and
propped my feet on the coffee table.  Tim, already in his socks, put his
feet up, and wiggled his toes.

He took a sip of his wine.  "Stan says Doug and Rick had an affair when
Rick was a senior.  Doug really fell in love with him.  He thought Rick
loved him.  Then Rick must have told his fraternity brothers the details of
their sexual activities, and the fraternity guys started a campaign all
over that small campus to humiliate Doug.  He was openly called things like
"Professor Fudgepacker" by some of his students.  He got the nickname
"Brownie Curtis," which spread all over campus, even into the student
newspaper.  Doug, sensitive soul that he is, simply couldn't face all that,
so he left Cranmer.  His parents died in an accident about then, and he had
to take time off to deal with their estate.  He decided, now that he was
financially independent, to stay away from teaching and work on a novel
he'd always wanted to write.  So he holed up, almost like someone in exile,
in Lake Polk.  Stan says the whole affair with Rick is still such a sore
spot that Doug can hardly bear to talk about it even today."

"Do you suppose," I asked, "that's why Rick doesn't have any letters in his
folder from his Cranmer professors?"

"Yeah, that must be it."

"From this end, it seemed as if Stan was pretty upset."

"He was.  He was really vituperative about Rick.  And he's worried about
what it will do to Doug to know that Rick will actually be teaching here
next year."

"Well, he must have known Rick was somewhere."

"Yeah.  Stan says Doug knew that Rick had gone to Brown to work on his
doctorate.  He thinks Doug would go to great lengths never to see Rick
again.  He doesn't even want to confront him about why he did what he
apparently did."  Tim sipped some wine and stared at the fire in the
fireplace.  After a while, he looked at me and asked, "Ced, what in hell am
I going to do?"

I took a swallow of wine while I considered that question.  "Doug seems
like a great guy.  And you know how much I love Stan.  He's been like a
second dad to all of us."

"Yeah, babe, I know."

"But maybe we should give Rick the benefit of the doubt.  At least until we
hear his side of the story."

"You're going to be a good judge some day, Ced."  Pause.  Sip.  "But how
are we going to get Rick to tell us his side of the story?"

"Is there any rush, beyond our own curiosity?"

"No, I suppose not."

"Well, then, he'll be coming back here to look for a place to live sooner
or later.  When he does, we'll get together with him and ask him about it."

"And how do we explain our knowledge of the affair, much less our interest
in it?  Stan says Doug doesn't want Rick to know where he is.  Apparently
Rick made some effort after he was in grad school to track Doug down.  He
called the English Department at Cranmer and asked, but they refused to
give him any information.  I imagine Rick's father would have had ways to
find Doug, and I think it says something for Rick that he apparently didn't
avail himself of them."

"Tim, we spent a whole evening with Rick.  Tell me honestly, did you have
the impression that he is the kind of guy who would do something like
that?"

"Honestly, no.  I guess he fooled us, didn't he?"

"Benefit of the doubt, innocent until proven . . . or confessed
. . . guilty, babe, remember?"

He took another sip of wine and smiled weakly at me.  "Yes, Ced, you are
being more mature, more reasonable than I am at the moment.  We have to
keep our objectivity here.  I'll ask Gwen's secretary to let me know when
Rick comes back to town."

"I think that's all we can do for now."  I went over to his chair and held
my hands out.  He took them.  I pulled him up, put my arms around him, and
allowed us both to fall on the sofa.

"Ouuff!"  He laughed.  I squeezed him close and kissed his ear.  We cuddled
until time to start supper.

* * *

GEOFF:

Marybeth Connor and I had worked together on several projects in our info
systems courses.  She knew I was gay and she was cool with it.  She was
like a sister in some ways.  She occasionally criticized the way I dressed.
She worried that I wasn't eating properly.  And she kept pushing me to find
a guy.  When Philip came along, she was really happy for me.  Without
asking about the gory details, she often wanted to know how things were
going between us.  I kept assuring her that it was blissful.

One morning after class she dragged me to a small lounge in our building.
We put money in the machine and got some terrible coffee.  We sat at a
Formica-topped table in the corner.

"OK, Marybeth, you're dying to tell me something.  So spill, girl!"

"Geoffrey, I'm not dying to tell you this at all, but I wouldn't be your
friend if I kept it to myself."

I grinned at her.  "So what's the deep, dark secret?"

"You know Sylvia Berg, don't you?"

"Yeah, I think so.  She's been in some of our classes."

"Uh huh.  Well, she lives in the same building with Philip."

"And . . . ?"

"And the other morning, she saw the bastard come out of their building
early in the morning, like 7:30, with a younger guy.  They were obviously
together.  They talked for a minute in the parking lot.  Then Halifax
kissed the other boy, they got into their separate cars, and left."

"Well, there could have been a reason for that."

"Yeah, Geoff?  Like what?  If they came out of the building at that hour,
they'd obviously spent the night together.  That slimy son of a bitch.  I
could cut off his balls!"

"Not necessarily.  I can't believe Philip would do that now that we're
together.  I mean, I know he had a pretty active sex life before he and I
hooked up, but he's been so sweet since then.  He is gentle when we make
love.  He comes to hear me play every chance he gets.  He even came along
one night because the roads were bad and he didn't want me coming home late
alone.  How could he be that way and spend the night with some other guy?"

"Maybe you'd better ask him."

"I don't think I can do that."

She put a hand on my cheek.  "Geoff, sweetie, you'd better figure out how
to ask him, or you may be letting yourself in for a world of hurt."

`Oh, fuck!  Just when things were going so well.'

* * *

Tim looked at the clock.  It was 1:00 AM.  Cedric lay beside him, snoring
lightly.

Tim clasped his hands behind his head and stared at the ceiling.  He
couldn't exactly see the ceiling, but he stared up at it.  There was enough
light coming in from the streetlight on the snow outside that he could make
out the furniture in the room and, when he turned his head, he could see
his lover's dark head against the white of the pillowcase.

Wide awake, he rehashed once more what he had learned from Stanley earlier.

Although he had talked with Doug fairly often on the phone over the last
few months, he had only been with him for two days.  That was when they had
all gone to Florida to be with Doug as he made his protest in front of the
cathedral in Waltersburg.  Not all that much longer than he'd spent with
Rick when Rick was in town for his interview.

He felt close to Doug.  First because Stan so obviously loved him.  Stan
had changed, mellowed, lost his abrasiveness . . . most of the time.  Stan
still sparkled with enthusiasm, wit, humor.  It was just that having Doug
in his life seemed to have softened him a little.  Tim, though he had
always found Stan a little intimidating, also found him very sexy.  Tim
loved Stan, and he liked what Doug had done to Stan.  He had instinctively,
immediately felt drawn to Doug.  An older colleague.  A warm, though
somewhat shy new friend.  And Pops's lover.

So.  Tim was prepared to make Doug's enemies his enemies.  Stan had already
taken that position.  Stan, for Doug's sake, hated a Rick Modarelli he'd
never seen.  Totally partisan.  Totally loyal.

And Tim felt drawn to the same position.

The difference was that Tim knew Richard Modarelli.  Had spent an afternoon
and an evening with him.  Had been looking forward to having him as a new
colleague.  Thought they had connected as friends.

He'd always thought he was a pretty good judge of people.  When he had
decided that the three university students who'd made his life hell for a
weekend the previous spring were really decent guys who'd done something
incredibly stupid, he made it a point to become their friend, to lead them
gently to an acknowledgement of what they'd done.  That had worked.  His
intuition about Mark, Trey, and Chaz had been right.  And now they were all
his "brothers." He was part of the remarkable group which had expanded to
include him, the "Brotherhood" that was such an important part of his life.

And his instinct right then was still saying that Rick was that kind of
man, too.  Fundamentally honorable, decent.  He had the eyes of a sensitive
soul.  No.  Not just that.  Sad eyes.  Now that he thought about it,
perhaps they were the eyes of a man who was carrying a load of guilt.

Cedric quit snoring and moved a little.

Perhaps that was it.  Perhaps Rick HAD done something terrible to Doug.
Tim wished Trey could have met Rick while he was on campus.  Trey would
have known.  Trey was an empath.

But there was something else.  It wasn't just loyalty to Stan and therefore
Doug that was bothering him.  Tim realized that he himself felt somehow
betrayed.  What was it?  It had to do with his and Rick's being colleagues,
fellow scholars.  That was it.  Scholarly integrity.  Decency.  Tim knew he
was more idealistic than some of his friends in the Ph.D. program at
Stanford.  Maybe it came from his years at Kenyon.  Come to think of it, it
may have come in part from Max, too.  Max had always been his moral rock.

But to Tim his teaching was something like a vocation in the early sense of
the word.  He felt called to learn, to unearth truth, to work with others
who shared his commitment, and to share that knowledge with other seekers.
That was an honorable thing to do with one's life.  And the people who were
his mentors, the men and women whom he admired in the profession were
decent, honorable people, people of great integrity.  To be a scholar and a
teacher should be to model integrity.  And, if what Stan said was indeed
true, Rick, who had seemed to be a person he could admire and accept into
the community of scholars, was in fact lacking in decency.  That, Tim
realized, was why he felt almost personally betrayed.

But, as his lover had insisted, he should approach things with an open mind
until he heard Rick's side of things.  He suddenly felt he had to hear that
story as soon as possible.

Cedric rolled onto his side and put a hand on Tim's stomach, which he began
to rub gently.

"Got it figured out yet, love?"

"What?"

"You're lying here worrying about Doug and Rick, aren't you?"

"You're amazing."

"Not really.  I know you haven't been sleeping, and that had to be what was
keeping you awake.  It's elementary, my dear Mead."

Tim chuckled and rolled to face his lover.  "Thanks for the explanation,
Sherlock.  Now, how would you like to go to Chicago for a weekend?"

* * *

JARED:

Just about everyone I know who's my age has been looking forward to their
eighteenth birthday.  Why?  I'm not sure.  In some ways, it's just another
birthday.  But it means something.  We can serve in the military now, but
in Ohio, we can't drink until we're twenty-one.  So it's a sort of
meaningless milestone.  We have attained our majority in some ways, but not
in others.  Anyway, most of the dudes I know feel like something
significant has happened when they turn eighteen.  I had a special reason
to fee that way.  If you've been reading this story, you know what it is.
Dante and I got to make love when I turned eighteen!  I said "make love"on
purpose.  We didn't just want to have sex, though for sure that's involved.
No, we wanted to show each other physically how much we loved each other.

We'd had problems holding out.  We were so hot for each other almost from
the get-go it was difficult (I've taken too much teasing about saying how
HARD it is) not to climb each other's frame every time we were together.

Well, the big day finally came.  But it was Jessie's birthday, too, since
we're twins.  The actual day fell on Wednesday, but we decided to celebrate
it on the following Saturday.  Mom wanted to have a big party and invite
all our friends.  Dante wanted to take me for a romantic dinner for just
the two of us.  But I HAD to be with Jess for a celebration of our
birthdays.  We'd always celebrated together, and I couldn't miss that, even
for Danny.

Jess stepped in and came up with a suggestion that worked for everybody.  I
think she pointed out to Mom that she, Jess, had lots of friends, but that
after what I did the previous summer, I didn't have anyone much except
Dante.  So she persuaded Mom to have a family dinner.  She would invite her
current boyfriend, Kevin, and I could have Dante.  I hadn't seen much of
Kevin, but he knew about Dan and me, and he was cool with it, according to
Jessie.

I always wanted chocolate cake and Jess always wanted a white cake, so Mom
made a marble cake.  And she put chocolate frosting on half of it and
vanilla on the other.  She did that every year.  After dinner she brought
it in with 18 candles.  It was no trouble for the two of us to blow them
all out.  My wish was that Dante and I could be together always, but, of
course, I didn't tell anybody.

After the cake, Mom and Dad gave us our presents.  Dante wanted to wait
until we were alone to give me mine, so Jessie and Kevin decided they'd
wait, too.

I think my folks must have known what Dante and I wanted to do for the rest
of the evening.  I know Jess wasn't as close with Kevin, and I don't think
she was going to have sex with him that night.  But the problem for the
folks was the double standard thing.  I honestly think they were okay with
Dante and me doing it, but they weren't at all comfortable with the idea
that Jessie would be having sex.  Ever!  LOL.

Anyway, after a lot of talk, we decided that on this birthday night we'd
have to be in at 1:00.  I didn't like that.  I wanted to spend all night
with Danny, to sleep with him, to wake up the next morning with him, to
help him with his morning wood, to take a morning shower with him.  But if
Jess couldn't do that with Kevin, and I don't even think she wanted to,
then I understood why I couldn't do that with Danny.  Jess and I will
always have our special thing, and I wasn't going to mess that up.

Another problem was where Dan and I were going to do it.  We talked about
getting a hotel room, but we didn't have enough money between us to get
anything very nice.  I knew he had to work to pay his college expenses.
And I knew he'd buy me a present.  So I didn't want him to be spending
money on an expensive hotel room.

It was Steve that came to our rescue.  Yeah, go figure.  Steve, the guy I
was guilty of "helping" beat up.  He'd become so much like a big brother to
me.  He'd forgiven me and become my friend.  We got together for burgers
most Saturday noons, so he knew just about everything that was on my mind.

When I shared with him one day that Danny and I needed a place to celebrate
me turning eighteen, he offered his apartment.  He said he could spend the
night with Chaz and Trey, where he'd stayed when he was released from the
hospital after we attacked him last summer.  I still can't say that without
wanting to hurl.  I can't believe that I was ever a part of hurting
anybody, let alone such a great guy as Steve.

When we found out that we couldn't stay out all night, I told Steve about
our 1:00 curfew.  He said he would be with Rebecca that late, so we could
just use his place.  He did say he'd put clean sheets on the bed and clean
towels in the bathroom.  And he told me there'd be extra clean sheets out
and that Danny and I would be expected to change the bed after using it.  I
assured him that his bed would have the best hospital corners after we got
it changed.  He laughed at that and said he supposed the two of us WOULD
know how to do that.  He laughed again and said he hoped we knew how to do
the rest of the things on our agenda that evening.


* * *

DANTE:

The birthday dinner at the Cousins' was much more relaxed than I was afraid
it might be.  Jare's parents had always been very nice to me, much nicer
than my folks were to him.  The few times they saw him, they gave him what
looked more like a grimace than a smile and didn't say any more than they
had to.  They had known I was gay since I was 14, but I had never brought
any guy home before Jared.

Anyway, Mr. and Mrs. Cousins were nice.  And Jessie is a fantastic girl.
She and Jared, like most twins, are very tight.  She had been on our side
as soon as Jared confessed he thought he loved me.  The only uncertainty, I
suppose, was Kevin.  He was a senior at the high school where Jare and Jess
went, and he was a jock.  I was worried that he'd be a problem, but, though
he was quiet, he seemed nice enough.  He listened very carefully to what
was being said at the dinner table, he laughed occasionally, and he didn't
seem particularly bothered because Jare and I were there as a couple.  Of
course, we had decided beforehand not to hold hands or touch each other in
those special ways during dinner.  No need rubbing anybody's noses in it.

After Mrs. Cousins brought in the big cake, which had half white icing and
half chocolate, everybody sang "Happy Birthday," and then the twins blew
out their candles.  The twins exchanged gifts first and then opened their
presents from their parents.


Soon after that, Jessie, Kevin, Jared, and I excused ourselves to get on
with our evenings.  Jess and Kevin were going to hear a group called the
Depraved Freakers at the University field house.  Nobody was tactless
enough to ask where Jare and I were going or what we had planned.  I think
they knew what we had planned and just didn't want to think too much about
it.

When we got to Steve's place, we found two long-stemmed champagne glasses
and a note on the kitchen table.  The note said to look in the fridge.
There was a bottle of champagne with a tag on it that said, "Happy
Birthday, Jared.  Have a good time, you two lovebirds!"  It was from Steve.

Steve knew we couldn't legally drink out anywhere, but I guess he figured
it was okay at his place.  I'd only met him once, but I decided I'd have to
get in touch with him and thank him for making our dream come true.

Even though I'd never done it before, I got the cork out of the bottle.
Some of it foamed up out of the neck and spilled on the table, so Jared and
I got the giggles.  We mopped up the mess and filled the two glasses.  Then
I gave him my birthday gift for him.  The one that was all wrapped up, that
is.  I had something else to give him later.

He held up his glass to me and said, "To us, sweetheart."  I touched his
glass with mine and said, "To us, babe."  Then he opened my present.

I had really stretched my budget when I bought him a white gold necklace in
heavy links.  When he saw it, he got tears in his eyes.

"Oh, Danny, this is fantastic!  I'll never take it off.  It means that I
belong to you."

"Well, Jare," I laughed, "it doesn't mean that you are my slave or
anything.  Just that you love me enough to wear it."

He put down his glass, came around the table, sat on my lap, and gave me
the best kiss we'd ever had.  Then he said, "Yum.  I like to taste
champagne when I kiss you.  And I want to know where you got this chain,
because that's what you're getting from me when you have your birthday in
May."

Then we finished the champagne in our glasses.  We tried to get the cork
back in the bottle for later, but it wouldn't go, so we just put it back in
the fridge with some paper towel stuck down in the top.

Then we headed for Steve's bedroom.

* * *

JARED:

Wow!  It was even greater than I'd expected.  We were kind of awkward at
first, especially me, but Danny was patient and gentle and tender and it
was just sooo beautiful.

When we got to Steve's bedroom, we grabbed each other and started kissing
and rubbing our hands all over each other.  After all, we'd been looking
forward to that moment for months.  But I realized we were going too fast,
so I pushed away.

"What's wrong, babe?" Danny asked, looking concerned.

"Let's slow down.  I really don't want either of us to come in our pants
tonight."

Dan gave me a quick peck on the lips and then grinned. "You're right.  I'm
sorry.  I've just wanted you so bad.  But yeah, let's slow down.  This is
your birthday and your first time.  What do you want to do?"

I sat on the edge of the bed.  "First of all, would you just take off your
clothes for me?  I've seen glimpses, but I want to see the whole package."

He chuckled.  "Let me start with my shirt.  The package will be revealed
later."  Then he surprised the shit out of me almost.  He shut his eyes,
got this smile on his face, and began swaying his hips.  He was doing a
strip dance for me!  He pulled up the bottom of his sweater and slowly took
it over his head.  Then he tossed it over his shoulder, and it landed in a
corner.

He closed his eyes about half way and gave me this sexy look.  He started
to unbutton his shirt, and then he licked his lips.  I thought I was going
to come on the spot!  When he had the shirt off, he twirled it around about
three times and then tossed it in the general direction of his sweater.

When he pulled his shirt out of his jeans, his tee came untucked, too.  He
pulled the bottom of that up just enough to show me his belly button and
then pulled it back down.  Next, very slowly, he pulled it up and uncovered
his right nipple.  And then he pulled it back down.  Then he showed me the
left one.  They were the size of quarters and dark, not like my little pink
ones.  I caught glimpses of a small patch of dark hair between his pecs,
some more around his navel, and the top of his treasure trail.

"Danny, you're driving me crazy here.  Take it off!"

"All in good time, big boy," he said in a voice so sexy I almost creamed.

When he had finally removed the tee and tossed it after the sweater and the
shirt, I saw he was going to have a problem.

"OK, sex-pot.  You aren't gonna get your jeans off over those shoes.  Sit
down here!"

He wiggled his eyebrows and sat down on the bed.  I dropped to the floor
and unlaced and then removed his ankle-high winter boots.  Then I took off
his socks.  I took a moment to hold and run my hand over each foot.  Then,
experimentally, I ran my fingertips along the soles of his feet.  He pulled
his feet up and began to laugh.

"Oh, don't do that!  It tickles!"

"OK, then, are you gonna continue the dance, or do you want me to help you
with these jeans?"

"I think we've had enough dancing, don't you?"

"For now, maybe.  But you gotta do that again for me sometime.  Right now,
though I'm still waiting for the rest of the `package'."

So he stood up while I stayed on my knees.  I unfastened and unzipped his
jeans and pulled them down.  He was wearing black boxer briefs, and there
was a big tent in them.  He must have been pretty uncomfortable with all
that stuffed into his jeans.  I noticed about then that my dick was feeling
pretty crowded in my jeans, too.

But there I was, on my knees, staring at his beautiful hard cock.  I'd read
in stories about guys having a single drop of precum on the tip of their
dicks, and there it was.  His cock was about six inches, same as mine, but
it was a lot bigger around.  It was standing straight out from a thick bush
of black, curly hair.  I noticed, though, that he had shaved his balls for
me, like I had done for him.  I just had to lick off that drop of precum.
When I did, Dan shuddered.

"I know this is your night, Jare, but please let me see you naked before we
do anything else.  I mean, you gave me a nice preview that night when you
were wagging your dick at me in our closet, but I want to see the whole
man, too.  Stand up and let me help you."

I sat on the floor and took off my shoes, then stood up, and with Danny's
help was standing in front of him, naked except my socks, which I'd
forgotten, and my new neck chain.

My dick was as hard as his.  He reached out and gently put his hand around
it.  "Nice, babe, nice.  And you've got nice low-hangers there, too."

When I put my hand around his cock I was amazed at how hot it was and how
great it felt.  I couldn't get over how smooth and hard it was at the same
time.

So there we were, holding each other's peckers, and looking into each
other's eyes.

"What next, birthday boy?"

"You're the one with experience, hotshot, you tell me."

He squeezed my cock and said, "I'd love to get my mouth on this nice piece
of tubesteak."

"Well, how about we 69?  I've been SO wanting to do that with you."

"Yeah, sounds good."

We turned back the top sheet and the blanket on Steve's bed and got in.  We
lay on our sides, head to toe, facing each other.  I had to bend a little
at the waist because I'm taller than Danny, but we managed to fit.  It was
so much all at once I don't quite know how to describe it.  I'd always
imagined what a blow job would be like, and I'd tried to duplicate the
feeling with my hand and some body lotion (I was never willing to risk Mom
finding lube in my nightstand table), but Dan's mouth on my cock was like
nothing I'd ever experienced before.  It was unbelievable!  And there was
the suction!  It felt so good I groaned.

Danny moaned after that to show me how good he felt, and did it ever feel
great!  I guess it was then that I realized I was supposed to be doing
something with his cock besides just hold it in my mouth, so I began trying
to do to him what he was doing to me.  Pretty soon he started making sounds
that let me know he liked what I was doing.

I was glad we were in Steve's apartment and not in my bedroom, because we
were moaning and grunting and slurping and generally making a lot of noise.
I thought I'd died and gone to heaven.  What Danny was doing to my dick was
better than anything I'd ever imagined.  I even licked and sucked on his
smooth balls for a while.

Just when I was beginning to fear I might come, he pulled off.

"What's wrong?  Did I do something?"

He grinned at me.  "No, babe, but I want to try another position.  The
angle's wrong here.  Let me lie on my back and you get on your hands and
knees and stick your cock into my mouth."

"Like this?"

"Yeah, babe, now let it down gently.  Don't try fucking my throat yet."

"Yet?"  He was going to let me fuck his throat?  Ohmygod!  He put his hands
on my butt and gently pulled my dick further and further into his mouth.
Before I had a chance to realize what he was doing, my pubes were against
his face.  He had me all the way in!  I was down his throat, and it felt so
amazing!  I could feel his throat muscles on my cock, and that was even
better than before.

When he began pushing up on my hips, I realized he was having trouble
breathing, so I pulled clear out.  "Oh, Danny, I'm sooo sorry!  I didn't
know that would happen.  Are you OK?"

"Yeah, it's cool, sweetheart.  Just let me work my head up and down on your
cock for a while.  I'll do everything.  You just have to stay put.  And you
can suck on mine again if you want to."

I felt terrible again because I was so into what he was doing to me that I
forgot this was supposed to be a 69.  I began sucking and licking his cock.
Experimentally, I tried to see how much of his cock I could take.  When it
hit the back of my mouth, though, I began to gag and had to raise up off
his cock.

Then he pushed my hips up again.  "It's OK, Jared.  Don't try to swallow my
cock tonight.  There's plenty of time to work on that gradually.  Just suck
on it like you were before."

So, I went back to just sucking and licking what I could comfortably take
of his tool in my mouth, and he went back to deep-throating me.  I don't
know whether he was actually enjoying what I was doing, but he was really
turning me on.  Maybe he did like it, for he kept moaning as he sucked and
bobbed.  Then he quit bobbing, and I began to gently fuck his throat.  I
don't know the words to explain what that was like, but it was fantastic.

Another thing that happened was that I found I enjoyed the taste of his
precum.  In fact there was something really beautiful about just having his
dick in my mouth.  I wanted so bad to give him pleasure, of course, but I
was surprised at how good it felt just to have my mouth wrapped around his
tool.

I don't know how much longer we went at it like that, but before I wanted
to, I knew I was going to cum.  I lifted my head and warned him that I was
about to shoot and tried to lift my hips so he could get out of the way
before I did, but he held me firmly in place and growled.  I got it that he
wanted me to cum in his mouth.  I think I howled as I came.  I sure never
had an orgasm like that before.  I was afraid I'd choke him with cum, but
he held me tight until after the last spasm.

When I took my still hard cock out of his mouth, I rolled over on my side.
He got up, turned around, and took me in his arms.  Then he kissed me, and
I could taste my cum.  It sounds gross, but I found it extremely beautiful.
After the kiss, he just held me, rubbing my back with one hand and ruffling
my hair with the other.

"Jare, I love you, man."

I began to cry.

"Oh, shit, I shouldn't have said that!  I'm sorry, is it too soon?  You
aren't ready?  Fuck!"

I put my finger on his lips and smiled at him.

"Will you just stuff it, Rappolo?  I'm crying because I've never been so
happy.  I love you, and it is just so sweet to hear you tell me you love
me."

He kissed my forehead, and we lay there for a while longer.

Then I said, "Hey, I think I'd like some more of that champagne.  And I'll
bet you'd like to get the taste of cum out of your mouth."

He ran his fingers down my cheek and said, "I love the taste of your cum,
babe, but, yeah, I'd like some more champagne."

So bare-ass naked, we went into Steve's kitchen and poured some more
champagne.  This time Dan lifted his glass and said, "Happy birthday,
lover."

I lifted my glass, grinned at him, and drank.  Then, holding my glass up, I
said, "To us, lover."  And we both drank again.  It was pretty mushy, but I
didn't care.  I was feeling different than I've ever felt before.

We had the rest of the champagne, rinsed out the glasses and put them in
the drainer by the sink, put the bottle in the trash under the sink, and
went back to the bedroom.

I was beginning to feel a buzz.  I thought it might be because I was so
happy, but looking back I suppose the champagne had something to do with
it.  When we got to the bedroom, I said to Dante, "I'm still the birthday
boy, right?"

"Sure are, babe."

"So I get what I want, right?"

"Yeah, if I can give it to you."

"I want you to fuck me."

He looked serious.  "You sure, Jare?  I mean I thought for your first time
you'd want to do me."

"I know you will go slow and be gentle.  I've just had the greatest come of
my life.  Now, it's your turn to come.  And I want to feel what it's like
to have that delicious dick of yours up my other end.  I want to know what
it's like to be fucked, and I wouldn't want anybody to do that but you,
Dante Rappolo!"

He smiled.  "OK, if you're sure.  And you'll have to tell me if it hurts.
We'll take it at your speed."

"Yeah.  Steve said there'd be lube in the nightstand drawer.  Now, how do
you want me?"

"Well, it's a little easier to do it doggie style, but I want to watch your
face, so lie down on your back and pull your knees up against your
shoulders for now."

The lube felt cold against my asshole when he first put it there, but soon
I was adjusting to his finger sliding slowing up my chute.  Now I admit
I've done that to myself, but it never felt as good as when Danny did it.
I was a little uncomfortable at first when he took his first finger out and
then put two back in.  But he wiggled them around, and he'd hit my nut
occasionally, and then I'd grunt and see stars.

When he put three in, I really grunted.  "Ooof, hold it a minute, Dan.  Let
me get used to that."

"Sorry, babe.  Want me to take that third finger out?"

"No way.  I want as much of you inside me as I can get.  Just let me adjust
to the tight feeling."

He kept his hand very still with the fingers up my ass and began licking my
balls.  Before long I was wiggling my ass all over the place, and those
fingers felt wonderful as he moved them around, stroking my nut and
stretching my sphincter.

"OK, stud.  I think I'm ready."

Well, I thought I was.  He seemed to take a long time lubing up his dick.
Then he put the head against my hole and pressed.  I knew right away this
was going to be different from the fingers.  He looked down at me and
asked, "Ready?"

I was scared, but I nodded yes.  He leaned forward.

It seemed to me the head of his dick popped through my muscle right away.
And it hurt like hell.  I was determined not to yell or complain, but I
couldn't keep tears from coming to my eyes, and Danny saw them.

"Baby, I'm sorry this hurts.  I can pull out if you really want me to, but
I think if we just stay like this for a minute, you'll adjust."

He was right.  There was some pain at first, but it soon went away.  I
tried to smile.  "Give me a little more of that love stick, Danny."

He took it slow and just moved his cock in little bits at a time.  It was
the first entry that hurt most.  But his cock was a lot bigger than three
fingers, and I was afraid I'd asked for something I couldn't handle.  I
didn't want to disappoint him, so I was willing to take whatever pain there
was.

He could see my face, though, and I couldn't hide what I was feeling.  He
kept asking me if I wanted him to take it out, but I kept shaking my head
no and trying to take deep breaths.

Finally, something happened.  I still felt incredibly full, but the pain
became a kind of dull ache.  I figured we'd just as well get on with it, so
I said, "Fuck me easy, lover."

And he began to move out real slow and then back in, slow and gentle.  That
was fuckin' fantastic, or fantastic fuckin', I guess.  Before long I forgot
about the feeling of fullness and the ache and concentrated on how good it
felt to have that cock sliding in and out of me.  Once in a while he'd hit
my prostate, and I'd yelp.  He started doing that more and more.

Before long I was encouraging him to do it faster and deeper, and he did.
The first time he came I was really disappointed `cause I assumed it was
all over.  But he collapsed on me and began kissing me.  His dick never got
soft, and after some really nice tongue dueling, he pushed himself back up
and began to slide in and out of me again.

This time, he really began to pound in and out.  We both got sweaty, and
his sweat was dripping on to me, and I loved that.  I reached up and began
to twist and pinch his nips as he plowed my ass.  For a while, I must have
zoned out.  I just got lost in having this incredible hunk as my lover,
having him inside me.  I felt so complete, like I had been waiting for this
moment all my life.  But all that hitting my nut had its results.  I came
all over my belly and chest without even touching my prick.  And then Danny
came for the second time.  I could feel his cock pulsing inside me, and
that was so great!  This time his cock did go limp, and after he was lying
on me again, it sort of popped out.  I could still feel both his loads of
cum sort of squishing around inside me.  I wanted it to stay in there
forever.  I hated to have him pull out.  We were connected when he was in
my mouth, in my ass, and I wanted to stay connected with him.  Who knew sex
could be so great?

We snuggled awhile, but the cum began to dry on my chest, and I thought
we'd better take a shower.  Reluctantly, Danny agreed.  So we showered,
stripped the bed, put the towels and sheets in the hamper where Steve had
told us to, and put fresh towels in the bathroom and fresh sheets on the
bed.  We wrote a note to Steve and left it on the kitchen table.  I placed
the apartment key on the note, and we left.  We decided we'd have to figure
out some kind of gift to thank him for being so good to us.


When we got to my house, it was almost 1:00.  I asked Dante if he had any
sort of curfew at his place, and he said no.  I could tell from the lights
that my folks had gone to bed.  It was nice to know they trusted me to be
in when I'd promised.

"Dan, I want you to come in and sleep with me.  We'll set the alarm so you
can get up and out before anyone wakes up."

"Hey, Jare, that's pretty risky, isn't it?  What happens if we get caught?"

"Well, they know what we've been doing.  I don't think it would be the end
of the world.  But we'll just be sure they don't know.  We won't do
anything but cuddle until we go to sleep.  Please?"  I put on my best puppy
dog look.

He grinned.  "How could I say no to that face?"

We were very quiet.  When we passed Jessie's door, though, it was open and
she was sitting in her reading chair.  I put a finger against my lips.  She
waved at us, winked, and turned off her light.  We made it to my room
without any problems.

We set my alarm, stripped out of our clothes, peed, rinsed our mouths with
mouthwash, and climbed into bed, where we snuggled down under the covers.
I wanted to stay awake so I could enjoy holding Dan and having him hold me.

Before I knew what was happening, the alarm went off.  It was still dark
outside, and no one in my family was stirring.  Danny got dressed, kissed
me until I almost passed out, and quietly left.  I wondered when he started
his car if my folks heard it, but if they did they never said anything.

Since it was so early, I crawled back under the covers.  I didn't go back
to sleep, though.  I was just lying there feeling like the luckiest guy on
the planet and looking forward to many more beautiful times with my sweet
Danny.


To be continued.