Date: Wed, 16 Oct 2002 13:23:33 -0700 (PDT)
From: stanleystevens <stanleystevens@gay.com>
Subject: Al & Me

The first time I fell in love, it was just like they said it
would be, at first sight.  I'd only been in town for seventy-
two hours, and here I was, a fourteen years old boy, in love
with a thirteen-year-old boy.  His name was Al, and the only
mistake he'd made that day, was being sent to the
principal's office, to show a new student around the campus,
and take him to homeroom.

As he gave me the tour, he tried to ask a few simple
questions like where was I from; I was so taken by him, all
I could do was stutter.  Looking back it was funny, even
though I had no idea that men could love each other, I knew
I loved this boy.  It took me three years to convince him
that what I had in mind was like a force of nature, and
would be imposable to deny.

We played football together.   I was on the line, and he was
a running back.  By our junior year, everyone had it figured
out that when they ran Al over my position, you'd better get
out of the way, or I'd hurt you.  During my senior year I
broke an opponents arm because I thought he had hurt Al
during a play we ran.

I'm getting ahead of myself.

When it actually happened, it was almost by accident.   It
was the summer between our junior and senior years.  We both
had to go over to summer school in Waco, or we wouldn't
graduate.  We hitched a ride with a friend Ken, and his
Mother, who was doing graduate work at Baylor.

Everyday we'd sit in the back seat of their car driving back
and forth.  I loved talking to Ken's Mom.  She seemed like
the smartest person I'd ever meet.  I spent most of every
trip leaning up against the back of the front seat, hanging
onto her every word.  One afternoon, and as God is my
witness I'll never know where I got the nerve, I reached
out, took hold of Al's leg, and started messaging his calf.
Well one thing lead to another, and a few day later I found
myself also messaging his hard cock through the tough fabric
of his new 501s, his mom had bought him for the up coming
school year.

This went on for a week or so, when Al asked me if I wanted
to come over to his house after work, and study for a
biology exam.  I said "Sure".  I got there around four.
Their house was one of those great big old white clapboard
barns, all deep set screened in porches, big windows, and
high ceilings, built to take full advantage of what ever
nature offered to keep you cool before the days of air
conditioning.  The front door was open.  Cupping my hand
around my eyes, to shield them from the bright Texas
sunlight surrounding me, I peered through the screen door
into the dark cool interior, and knocked.  Al never walked,
he moved with the exuberance of a young bull.  I heard the
house rumbling as he made his way to the top of the stairs,
and bounded down them two or three at a time, landing at the
bottom with a boom.  Like most everything else he did in
life he didn't arrive at the front door, he exploded there.
When he slung it open for me to enter, I realized that all
he was wearing was a pair of those stiff new jeans, and he
was still damp from a shower.  Standing there looking at him
made my heart race and my body tremble.  You have to
understand, back then Al's body was special, he was five
six, or maybe seven, if he stretched real hard, a hundred
and eighty pounds, with a thirty-inch waist, a forty-four
inch chest, and if he had another muscle, he would have had
to push it around in a wheelbarrow.  This was before the
days of the male body as a sexual weapon.  He was one of
only a half dozen guys in our school, with that kind of
build.

As we climbed the stairs to his bedroom, it was all I could
do not to reach out and stroke his butt.  Entering his room,
he went over and dropped down on the weight bench over in
the corner.  Reaching up he took hold of the bar bell and
lifted it up off it's rest.  Looking across the room at me,
he told me to get my ass over there and spot for him.  I
stood there at the head of the bench as long as I could
stand it, admiring his body as he pumped away at the
weights.  Suddenly my world seemed to spin out of control.
The next thing I knew, I was sitting on the end of the
bench, up tight between his legs, ripping open the buttons
on his jeans with one hand, as I held him down with the
other.  He stopped a lift in mid air as his cock sprang
clear of its confinement, and slapped hard against his left
thigh.  I had seen it hundreds of time in the locker room,
but it had always been soft.  I had even felt its hardness
through the fabric of his jeans in the back seat of the car.
But this was more then I ever expected.  It was narrow at
the base, but large beyond what my limited experience had
prepared me for at the head.  I wasn't sure if I could even
get it in my mouth.

At this point in my life, I'd never considered sucking
someone, unless we were in a sixty-nine during our first
tryst, or they had done me first.  That day I didn't care.
I just leaned over slowly, looking him directly in the eyes
as I went, and forced his massive piece of flesh down my
throat.  Back then; there was no cuming in my mouth.
Usually after a suck fest, my partner and I would finish
each other off with a hand job.  That day I was too confused
to even consider it.  Somewhere along the line, I just
stopped, stood up, suggested we'd better start studying, and
walked over and lay down on his bed, next to where I had
dropped my books.  He didn't object, he just shoved his cock
back into his jeans, got up, walked over to the bed, plopped
down beside me, and picked up a book.

For days after that, we never talked about what had
happened.  We just drove back and forth to school.  Al would
occasionally push his leg up against me for his message,
sliding forward on the seat, so I could reach his crouch,
all of which, for some stupid reason, I refused to do.  All
that came to a head about a week and a half after the event,
as I now thought of that late afternoon in his bedroom.  It
was just after sun set, I was sitting out in the front yard.
Al drove up in his old blue beat up, fifty-one Chevy.
Sliding to a halt in front of our house, he leaned out the
window, and growled, "Get in".

I did.

Without either of us speaking a word, he drove us out to the
edge of town, into the middle of a defunct subdivision that
had never gotten off the ground.  All the kids in town used
it for a parking spot.  You had to be careful when you got
out of your car and walked around.  You might slip on a used
condom.  He drove us to one of the more secluded areas.
Letting the car roll to a stop, he flipped off the lights,
turned to face me, propped his right leg up on the seat
between us, and asked me what I wanted to do.  I knew what I
wanted to do, but instead I said I didn't know what he
meant.  He leaned forward, grabbed me by the back of head,
pulled me over and down onto his crouch, threw his legs
around my neck, and hissed, "Suck me".  I pushed hard
against him and screamed, "Fuck you, you son of a bitch".
Suddenly I felt him relax, and like a little boy pleading
for his supper, he whispered, "Please".  What could I do but
lean down into the middle of his incredible masculine
beauty, and make love to him.

This time I made him cum.

Maybe not in me, but with a force that would ravage my mind
for years.

There are many things about that evening I'll never forget.

The most important was the way he smelled.  His body was
Dial Soap, and English Leather Cologne, mixed with the scent
of freshly laundered and bleached white cotton jockey
shorts.   When you blended all that with the smell of an old
car, you know what I mean; old grease and oil, mixed with
the burnt fumes of leaded gas, the rust of old metal, and
the stuffing of worn out seats.  Does it get any better then
that?   The most important aroma of all, was the smell of
the two young wild animals, tearing at each other in the
front of that beat up old jalopy.

Well, what more can I say, but I'm a fortunate man?  I've
loved other men in my life, and have had incredible
experiences with them, but no moment has ever been sweeter
or more defining than that one.