Date: Fri, 27 Jan 2006 21:33:46 -0800 (PST)
From: Rex Rush <kingofcroffee@yahoo.com>
Subject: Roomie Mess 3

Not only am I getting good feedback on my stories, I'm also getting some
really good advice.  Its not all heading in the same direction but that
just makes me think I'm not all that crazy.  Thanks guys,
kingofcroffee@yahoo.com

Living with Christian has changed.  I can't say that it's a nice
comfortable feeling I get when I open the door to my dorm room and find
Christian there.  Its more like climbing a rocky trail up a mountain.  I
have to watch my step, I slip a few times, some steps are big and they lead
to big progress, and I do keep getting higher.  There might even be a few
bruises and scraps.

Christian sure has been smiling a lot more.  He and I have been hanging
more in the last few days.  The biggest thing is that his life is more than
class and retreating to the dorm room for the rest of the day.  He has had
a lot more to do with my friends.  The other day, we all went to the
basketball game and then out for cheese fries.  I watched him as he started
out at the far end of the group of tables we had.  He looked nervous and
didn't really make eye contact with anybody.  I could see him look at the
door and at me.  As bellies got full of taters and beer or soda, our group
milled around more.  Christian moved right next to me.  It made me feel
more at ease.  While I was his main conversation partner, he talked a whole
lot more to everybody else.

In the room, we have talked, and its been some good conversations.  I know
we were heading for more action the other night.  We were on my bed, doing
actual studying but there was a whole lot of him touching me.  We were
interrupted by a mandatory floor meeting.  Christian isn't nearly as shy.
He will strip down in front of me, and he knows I'm looking.  He would
always change in the shower or wait for me to leave the room before taking
clothes off.  And yet, I feel a little funny as I get naked in the room.  I
have a desire to be naked in front of him, its like I want to show him.  I
also get more embarrassed by it than ever before.

I have even heard him jacking off in his bed long after I was supposed to
be asleep.  That is the first time I've noticed him doing that.  I don't
know if he has known when I have done it several times through the year.

Christian and the possible things we could do are in my head many times
every day.  Its everything from going to buy a gun and go shooting to out
and out fucking.  One thought will be about shooting beer bottles and the
next is me with my legs over my head and his dick stuffing my ass.  I'm
still not sure there is anyway that dick of his will ever fit in my tight
little hole.  Other than a thermometer, there hasn't ever been much going
in that hole.

I also ended up doing something last night that I haven't done in a few
years.  I talked to my brother.  I don't mean it's the first time in years
that I spoke to him.  I mean that it was the first time in a while that we
talked for more than a few minutes and about something serious.

I'm about 2 and a half years older, we are just 2 grades apart.  We have
always shared a room.  Our house has bedrooms that aren't even used.  When
our parents tried to give Marty his own room, neither one of us liked it at
all, at least according to our parents.  I don't quite remember it like
that.  I remember going to sleep all by myself in my own room and waking up
in the morning with Marty in my guest bed.  And he never left after that
night.

When we were little, getting us to sleep wasn't all that pleasant.  We
would whine and complain and frequently fight each other.  Our father would
frequently have to end it all and get us quiet.  It was mostly the threat
but occasionally he would use the leather snapper.  It was just a thin
strip of leather, maybe a half-inch wide, and he would snap it at our
butts.  It would put one hell of a sting on my butt.  With all the fear
that leather imposed, as I think back, I can only remember three times that
it ever stung me.  One was when I was being a little pain in the ass and
wouldn't get ready for bed after my bath.  He snapped my naked butt and I
dove for the covers.  It was the first time I ever slept naked, I wasn't
about to get out of bed after that.

Then, when I was 13 and Marty had just turned 11, it was like his brain
connected and he became a person.  Before that, his brain just rolled
around in his head, he liked to play and react to anything a kid does.  At
11, his brain locked in and he started having deep thoughts.  He could
actually think beyond the next morning.  It was then that we would lay
awake and talk.  Quiet, intimate, thoughtful, and real talk.  Instead of
talking about what one of his friends did at the playground, it was more
about why his friend did something or how he felt about our grandma in the
hospital.  It wasn't always the things that were important to the world,
just in our world.  Troy Aikman retiring and not playing for the Dallas
Cowboys got more discussion between us than the World Trade Center attack,
they both happened about the same time.

Our father called it pillow talk.  He stood outside of our room several
times and just listened.  I know he thought we didn't know he was there but
we did, somehow.  We had some vacations and trips that got our father in on
discussions.  We would be in a hotel or at a relative's house and sharing a
room.  A lot of times, he would still be pillow talking and Marty and I
would fall asleep.  He said there was something special about pillow talk.
It was at the end of the day when things were done and it wasn't time to
worry about tomorrow.  And talking in the dark meant that you heard the
words and the feelings.  Most of the time, I never really thought about it
being pillow talk, it just seem to be an easy time to talk.

It was talking like that when Marty explained to me that he was gay.  He
never said the word gay, or that he liked boys over girls.  It wasn't even
one conversation, it was over the course of a couple of years.  It was also
when Marty understood that it didn't matter to me what he did.  He also
learned that I knew he had a preference for boys much earlier than he ever
recognized.  The closest he ever came to coming right out and saying he was
gay, I responded with "no duh!"

I don't even remember having an interest in sex when I was younger.  When
my pubic hair started showing up, it grew an interest of sexual matters
within me.  Marty always seemed to want to look or touch with another boy's
body.  He and I didn't do much together at all.  It was his 7th birthday
when I remember the ultimate act, and final act of our sexual relationship.
He convinced me that I had to do anything he wanted because it was his
birthday.  I got on my knees beside his bed and found his little dick with
my lips.  After a day of running around at his party, pissing 5 or 6 times
during the day, and other boyish things, his dick was the worst thing that
I ever tasted.  I didn't gag and I sucked on it like a straw in a Slurpee.
After that, I really had no interest in doing that ever again.

That was just the ignition point for Marty.  Since then, he has played
around with his friends and some boys who I have only seen once.  We both
had several sleepovers with friends.  Sometimes it meant that we would use
the other bedroom.  There were times that he and his friend slept in
Marty's bed with me just a few feet away.  I would have to get up and leave
with all the playing around going on underneath the sheets.  Later on, when
it was more sex than it was kids playing with each other's naughty bits, I
did stay and enjoy it.  Marty knew I was awake and aware of what was going
on but he would convince his boy friend that I was always asleep.

This wasn't an every night thing.  He would go months without anything
happening and then have a sleep over 3 weekends in a row.  More and more,
it was with his best friend.  I'm told that now that I'm out of the house,
his friend sleeps over several times a week.  My mother says its ok since
my empty bed gives them more room.  I don't think they use my bed for more
than sitting on and piling dirty clothes on.

Marty has done more than playing with or sucking dick in our room.  He
fucked at least one boy there.  I found out when I found my favorite Tee
shirt with shit stains.  He wiped his dick on my Kenny Chesney Tee after
fucking a boy.  Yeah, I like Kenny Chesney, and country music.  Its what I
like.  I got that Tee at his concert.  The concert was a big thing to me,
the first thing like that I did on my own.  I did kick his ass for that.

Marty has something about the way he can convince boys into doing things
with him.  He has told me that he has busted the cherry on several boys,
and almost all of them weren't gay before.  He and I would talk about some
of that.  He could also get me to tell him about my relationships with
women.  I don't go around and fuck everything I can but I'm not all that
much of an angel.  I told him about the girl I fucked and shot before she
even had her underwear off.  I `accidentally' woke him up just so we could
talk after I fucked two girls I met and spent time with at the carnival at
the fair grounds.

It wasn't an accident that I called him last night.  In the last two years,
our pillow talk has diminished to almost nothing.  With me being away at
college, we don't see each other much and when we talk, its more about what
CD he got and what tracks he wants me to rip from mine.  The call started
out with the normal short sentences followed by an almost grunted response.
I wanted to talk a little more and he picked up on it.  He lowered a wall
and he picked up my signal when he asked me what was going?  I told him we
needed to talk for a little while.

He carried his phone to his (formally our) room and he laid back on his
bed.  I was no where near my bed but I ended up pulling my coat up over me
like it was a blanket.  I didn't even notice I did that until he said it
was like the old pillow talk we did.  At first, I tried to compare what
happened between me and Christian with some of the things that he has done
with boys.  I didn't come right out and tell him what we did.  I was sure
that he wasn't understanding what I was saying and was about to take a deep
breath and unload the whole nasty story on him.  Then he caught on.  It was
anything but consoling.  He laughed hard and loud.  He couldn't believe
that I was even thinking gay things.  He more or less welcomed me to the
`other side'.  I was regretting that I made the call.  I was about to hang
up and forget about it.  Marty heard my silence.  He stepped into the point
I needed.  He started off asking the question that I don't have the answer
for, "How do you feel about it?"

For the next 87 minutes, we talked and I found out how amazingly our
feelings and thoughts were.  We shared the point of what was the most
exciting part.  We shared not only the exhilaration but the fears of
relationships.

At one point, I brought up the relationship that he has with his best
friend.  It was the very first time he has ever admitted to me, and the
first time he has heard himself admit it, that it was more than sex.  It
was more than the enjoyment of sex, and it was more than fun between best
friends.  It was shared experience, shared emotions, shared devotion and
finally he admitted it was love.  You have no idea how hard that is for
either of us to really talk about.  Oh yea, we love Cowboys football, we
love seeing Tony Stewart run Jeff Gordon off the track, we love Friday
Night Smackdown, hell, we even love jacking off.  Its easy to say love when
it comes to those things.  Its so much hard to say it when it means so much
more.

I'm not sure if it is love between me and Christian.  When I'm not thinking
about the sexual possibilities with us, I think about his face, with the
big bright shiny cheeks.  I think about his voice, there is still a little
cracking in it like puberty is still hanging on.  I think of the excitement
and concentration he has when he takes aim with my grandpa's gun.  I think
about how much better I feel knowing that he is sleeping almost within arms
reach of me at night.  I think about how I would love to slide over and let
him wrap me up and we sleep together.  My thoughts to drift to sex.  I
think about that big dick of his.  I think about how soft and wavy his
pubic hair is.  I think about tangling our dicks together.  I think of
sleeping covered in each other's cum.

Marty and I talked about these things.  It took me awhile to say some
things straight out.  Marty asked me "What can be wrong with that?"  We had
already convinced each other that when feelings are true and strong that
there was nothing wrong and in fact it was all right.  Its too hard to
really give 87 minutes of pillow talk the justice it deserves but it is a
good thing.  And Martin has become much smarter since I started college.

He has convinced me to take a next step; one that is not accidental, one
that sets a course, one that will make progress up that mountain. It will
have to be soon, my mind and body just can't last long like this.  I may
end up back at the bottom of the mountain, but we'll see.  I don't
understand that when Marty told me that being at the bottom of the mountain
was a better thing than hanging onto the side of a mountain.

I hope I have another chapter to write.  I hope it's worth writing.  I hope
it's a good chapter.

kingofcroffee@yahoo.com