Date: Mon, 26 Apr 2004 19:02:57 GMT
From: Drew <drewseyboy24@excite.com>
Subject: Brad- Part 3

	The next day dawned bright and beautiful, with the blue sky rising
out of the redness of the clouds in the distance. Even by Georgia
standards, it was a warm day for February, nearly 70 degrees. It was the
first day of the rest of my life. For the first time in eons, I looked
forward to going to school. I knew that Brad would be there. I felt
enormously happy. My mother wanted to know why I was so
uncharacteristically cheerful.
	"Are you sure you're okay?" she asked, the concern evident on her
face.
	"I'm great." I'd replied, entirely too exuberant to be
believable. Everyone at the table knew something was up.
	"What's her name?" my father wanted to know.
	I couldn't help but blush. That told them that there was someone. I
dared not tell them that the 'her' was actually a 'his.' Whether this meant
I was actually gay or not, I would never survive that still intact. I
thought our dear father would have a hernia when my older sister had a tiny
rose tattooed on her ankle. If he found out about Brad, there would be a
murder investigation going on in my wake.
	School came and went. As I was walking outside, Matt walked up
behind me.
	"We need to talk." I was growing very tired of that phrase.
	"We don't have one goddamn thing to talk about Matt." I refused to
meet his eyes.
	"Yes, we do. It's the little issue of compensation for my silence."
He whispered.
	"What if I say no?"
	"You don't have a choice." He sound a bit more menacing this time.
	"I don't? Really..." The anger rose in my chest. I cannot believe I
ever fantasized about this jackass.
	"Imagine the scandal." Matt said, theatrically waving his hands in
the air for effect, "Picture it: small southern town. Everyone knows
everyone else. All one big happy family. Imagine the heartache and the
tears when the people of this fair city find out that the son of their
elected police chief is fucking the son of the pastor of First Presbyterian
Church. What will all the little old ladies think of dear sweet innocent
Brad? Sitting there in church week after week looking all prim and
proper. Ha! Imagine the indignation! The ignominy!" he said, trying to
sound very literary. He was trying to spoof The Scarlet Letter, by
Nathaniel Hawthorne. Either that or Jim Carrey's version of The Grinch Who
Stole Christmas. "All dressed up in his suit and tie. I can't get the
picture of him naked spread out on a table with you fucking as hard as you
could." He whispered with a devilish twinkle in his eye.
	As we passed a bench, I sat down. He stood in front of me.
	"Fine," I began- being careful to keep my voice low, "What do you
want? Do you want to watch? Is that it, you pervert? Can't get your own
piece of ass, so you come after mine?"
	He looked slightly offended. He started sucking his teeth and
slowly shaking his head. "No, no, no. For an honor student, you're awfully
slow on the uptake." The mocking condescension dripping from his every
word. It was all I could do to resist the temptation to rip out his trachea
and shove it up his ass.
	"I'm not after the scrawny thing you call a 'piece of ass.' No, no,
what I want is just one ass in particular. Yours. Not Brad's, not both,
just you and me going at it."
	"I would rather fuck a llama." I said rather loudly.
	"Since that is just sick, I will kindly disregard that last
comment."
	"Go ahead. What harm would it do for people to find out? This town
needs to be shaken up." What did I just say? I'm still not entirely sure.
	He looked at me with a deeply patronizing look. Continuing with his
extreme condescension, "Need I remind you, kind sir, that your father has
been chief of police for a scant three years and has been brought up on
excessive use of force charges on several occasions."
	That was a low blow. His smirk widened.
	"You must clearly have forgotten that my father is the circuit
court judge for the 4th circuit federal court in this fair city. I've been
feeling a bit reckless lately, I think I just might commit some infamous
crime and have you framed for it. Or better yet, that shit head you like to
fuck. Can your cock go through plate glass Herr Andrew?"
	I was enraged, but stuck- this guy was obviously off his rocker and
I didn't want to piss him off more than I already had. If anyone had sense
enough and be crazy enough to actually do something like that, it would be
Matt. Come to think of it, he was known for being reckless and had nearly
gotten a number of people arrested and maimed in the course of his
antics. But I was equally determined not to let him rule the day.
	I saw Brad coming towards us. The moment he spotted us, he froze
dead in his tracks. Matt was gloating over impending victory too much to
see me slowly shaking my head at Brad, who turned and went off in another
direction.
	"So," he resumed abruptly, "What's your answer? Suck my cock or
have your life destroyed? The choice is yours."
	The sickening thing is that, 72 hours ago, I would have jumped at
the chance to suck Matt. Now, I had an attachment to Brad. To do anything
with Matt, I would be violating Brad and whatever it was that we had, even
though Brad said he would understand if it ever came to that.
	"Alright then, let's go. But just this once, right?"
	"We'll see," Matt said, noncommittally, "Depends on how good you
are."
	We got up off the bench.
	"My car's busted. You'll be giving me a ride home today," Matt
announced.
	We walked toward my truck in silence. I was both elated that maybe
a fantasy or two might come true, but I was horror struck at how horrid
Matt really was. He wasn't the kind, nice guy I thought he was, but was
really incredibly vindictive. Apparently, lust can make you overlook
glaring character flaws.
	We drove through town and arrived at a beautiful, stately mansion
on DeWalt Avenue. It certainly beat the split-level hovel I lived in. It
looked like it was airlifted from a plantation, two and half stories, white
wood, black storm doors, big white columns on the front porch. We drove
around back. A woman was pulling weeds out of a flowerbed. We parked as she
walked towards us.
	"Hey, Mom. This is Andrew, a friend of mine from school. He gave me
a ride home."
	"Well, that's nice," she said in a very middle-aged woman voice,
"Hello, Andrew. I'm Patsy. I'm Matt's mom. It's a pleasure to meet you."
She pulled off her dirty gardening gloves and shook my hand.
	"It's nice to meet you," I said in a feeble attempt to appear
relaxed.
	"Yeah, Mom, we're going to go inside for a while."
	"Will Andrew be staying for dinner?"
	"No, he'll be going in about an hour."
	I smiled politely and followed Matt into the back door of his
house. We went through the house and up the stairs. Sure enough, we went
straight to the bedroom. The curtains were open and I could see Matt's mom
down below still working on her flowers and my dark blue truck on the
gravel. The room was white and rather girly looking, really. I had expected
much more.
	"This room doesn't look like you."
	"My dad won't let me decorate. It's like living in a fucking
museum."
	As I looked out the window, Matt walked up behind me. He leaned his
head against my arm. I'm sure he would have put it on my shoulder, but he
was too short. He wrapped he arms around me and pulled me away from the
window.
	"Do you know how much I dreamed about this moment?" He asked,
trying to catch my eye, but I kept averting it. "I used to lay in bed and
jerk off to my mental picture of you."
	I recoiled. I felt dirty. "Well, you got me. Your method sucks ass,
but you succeeded."
	"Yes...I...did." He drew out the words to emphasize his point.
	"Don't you think it would be better if I were enjoying this too?"
	"Aren't you?" He asked, sounding a little hurt.
	My eyes bugged out at him. "Are you kidding? I'm here because you
threatened to have either Brad or me thrown in prison for crimes you would
have committed. Hell no, I'm not enjoying this. Several days ago, maybe. To
be honest, I used to jack off to your mental picture in my head. Then I
found out what an asshole you really are. Now I just want to throw up on
you." I yelled, pacing around the room.
	"It was just a ploy to get you alone. I could never do it
otherwise." He whined, flopping down on his bed and staring at the floor.
	I paused. "What do you mean?"
	"I mean, I would have asked you a long time ago, but I was afraid."
	"Of what?" I snapped back.
	"You."
	"Me? What the hell are you talking about?"
	"You're smart, you're funny, and you are amazingly beautiful,
people like being around you. I'm just the spoiled, good-for-nothing rich
kid nobody can stand." For just a fleeting moment, I thought he might
cry. I folded my arms and stared in total disbelief.
	He continued, "If I knew you felt anything for me, I would have
asked you a long time ago, but I thought you'd think I was a fag or
something. I just wanted you. I wanted to be with you, to hold you and to
be held by you. That's all."
	The guy I'd fantasized about for years was sitting on his bed
baring his little soul to me yet my usual dispassionate self was filled
only with revulsion. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. The nerve- he
must be insane.
	"But I blew it."
	"You can sure as shit say that again. I can't believe this. This is
just too much. You. You!" I sputtered, "What the...why
did...ugh...gaherisgn."
	I looked over my shoulder at him. He looked all sad and rather
penitent sitting there. There were tears streaming down his face. He
sniffled loudly.
	"Well, now that's attractive," I said sarcastically, and turned my
back toward him.
	"I just..." but he couldn't finish. His throat was filling with
phlegm and choked out the words. So, he just sat there, silently staring at
the floor. If I hadn't been so filled with disgust, I might have felt sorry
for him. Was this just an act, like the tough guy routine he'd pulled
earlier? Was he really crying or just playing the sympathy card? With a cop
father and a parole officer mother, sympathy was not a concept I was taught
as a child.
	I just stood there, in his room staring in complete
bewilderment. He just sat there. His cheeks were turning red from the
embarrassment of losing control. That was the part that got to me. He was
embarrassed to be crying in front of me. That meant he was serious. I
turned to face him. For a baseball player, he was a bit of a pansy, but I
thought, what the heck? I already had forgiveness in advance from Brad for
this little indiscretion, so why not take full advantage of it?
	I said to myself, 'Do I trust him? No way in hell do I trust him?
Do I go through with it? He's got as much to lose if this gets out as I do,
so maybe he'll keep his mouth shut. So, this'll be fun- right?'
	I turned to face him. He looked up at me. I smiled. He wiped his
nose on his shirtsleeve. I walked over to him and opened my arms. Slowly,
he slid off the bed and we embraced. I could feel the warmth of his body
pressing against mine. I put my chin on the top of his head as he settled
into my shoulder. We stood there like that for a few moments. He looked up
at me, his face had calmed down a lot, there was less puffiness and his
cheeks had returned to a semi-normal shade. I looked at him. I stared at
the bridge of his nose so that it looked like I was gazing into his eyes
without actually having to do it. I'm sure he was gazing as deeply into
mine as he could get. His head tilted sideways as he kissed my neck. I felt
the warm wind of his breath blowing over my skin. Maybe this wasn't going
to be so bad after all. The roughness of his lips passing over the tiny
hairs of my neck sent shockwaves down my back. His strong bat swinging
hands glided gently against my chest rubbing the edges of my body, passing
over the nipples, and back down the sides again. I reached out and touched
the sides of his face as it moved around my body. My fingers passed over
his ears and proceeded through the sandy blondness of his close cut
hair. His hands met behind my back as he pulled me in closer. His perfectly
neat hair was becoming increasingly ruffled as I moved my hands through
it. Without warning, his face rose to meet mine and we kissed deeply. All
my fantasies were coming true. He fell back onto the bed and I straddled
his midriff. Reaching down, I started to undo the buttons of his shirt; one
by one I proceeded slowly down. His smooth muscular chest was heaving with
every breath. When I finished, I pulled back the edges of the shirt to
reveal the perfect chest. I leaned down and kissed his neck. Sliding down,
I sucked a nipple while rubbing the edges of his stomach. He did not have
washboard abs, but it was still very trim with the slightest bit of hair
right at the navel. His skin was oddly cold. Brad had been warmer. I could
feel Matt's cock pressing into me through our pants. I leaned forward and
kissed him, putting my hands on either side of his shoulders and lifting my
ass off his dick just an inch.  I sat back and started unzipping my
pants. I pulled out my own pulsating cock. I slid up his torso and he
opened his mouth. Grabbing onto the headboard of his bed, I started to move
my cock in and out of his hot, wet mouth. I couldn't help but let a little
moan out as I fucked his face. With the exception of an unbuttoned shirt
and unzipped pants, we were both fully clothed. To me, that adds to the
eroticism. I could feel my cock swelling as I started to fuck faster.
	"Don't swallow!" I said. I was close. Closer. Like a hurricane
welling up in my gut, I felt it coming, rising from within me. Then is
blasted forth into his mouth. The feeling was so intense it was like my
body couldn't decide whether it should explode or rip in half. My legs
burned with exhaustion. He didn't swallow. I leaned in and kissed him,
transferring all my juice into my mouth. I rolled over next to him,
unbuttoned my pants and slide them down just enough. I took some of the
jizz into my hand and lubed up my ass. I swallowed the rest. He had already
unzipped his pants and pulled out his cock. I mounted his throbbing cock
and guided it slowly toward my asshole. Slowly, I eased myself onto it,
letting it press up against the sphincter and then pass right on by it. It
amazed me how this position looks so easy in porn, but is actually
exhausting for your legs. Very slowly, I started pumping up and down. He
lifted and lowered his body to my rhythm. It hurt a little bit as I felt
his skin sliding against mine and his dick poking my insides. Matt's dick
was noticeably larger than Brad's. His arms went down onto the bed and his
fingers started to clench the sheets. His mouth opened as he started
gasping for air as the intensity of the moment increased, his lips pulled
back showing his perfecly straight, white teeth. I felt the cold metal of
his zipper poking my ass on every down stroke. He leaned his head back at a
sharp angle, his Adam's apple bulging. The only sound he could make was a
short squeaking sound. I could feel his body sliding against the bed as his
body tensed up. I felt this warm wetness filling me up. My own cock blew
its load without even being touched. A fresh load of my own cum flew
out. The first blast made it all the way to his eyebrow, the rest to his
collar and chest.. As the orgasm subsided, he looked down at me sitting on
him. I was panting and gasping for air. I rolled off of him and laid face
down on the bed and just remained perfectly still, my head turned so that I
could see him. After a few minutes, he stirred.
	He sat up and looked over at me. He got on his knees and came over
towards my body. He leaned down and I felt his breath on my ass; I felt his
nose brush against the skin. His hands gently lay upon my flesh, separating
the two mounds of my ass. His face slowly descended into it. I could feel
his tongue moving along the interior of the crevice. I could feel his
tongue lapping up his cum that was leaking out of my stretched asshole. I
just laid there for a moment, enjoying the sensation of the wetness of his
tongue, the brush of his lips, and the heat of his breath all concentrated
on my ass. My erection was growing again and I felt my dick being pressed
into the mattress, so I arched my back just slightly to relieve the
pressure. His hands moved up the smooth flesh of my back beneath the cotton
fabric and came to rest on my shoulder blades, pushing my shirttail up to
my neck. I heard the rustling sound of his leg moving to my other side and
I felt pressure on my back. He was sitting on my back, supporting himself
with his knees. He had his back to me and was massaging my ass with both
hands. I could see the shadow line where his body and mine joined. It
looked as if his back rose out of my own. I could feel him shifting his
weight back and forth. I wanted to move, to explore his body but I was
trapped beneath him. He moved. He laid himself down on me, the full weight
of his body pressing me into the mattress. I could barely breath but the
sensation was phenomenal. I had my head turned so I saw his face come
towards mine. I could feel his rock hard dick pressing against my hole. His
collar was rubbing against my shoulder and it tickled.
	"How do you like me now?" He breathed into my ear, his cock finding
my asshole again. This kid was a machine...
	I couldn't even respond. I just laid there with a huge grin
spreading across my face. I could feel the slender piece of flesh passing
in and out of the slabs that were my ass cheeks. My eyes rolled to the back
of my head as he picked up speed and power.
	"uh,uh,uh,uh" were the only grunting sounds I could hear, and the
rustle of the bed. The bedsprings were mercifully quiet, although the bed
did bump the wall occasionally, but the bed was against as exterior wall,
so it didn't matter. All I could see of him was his hand on the pillow by
my head. I felt that warm sensation as his cum filled me brim full, yet
again. He laid back down on me full force, his dick still inserted in
me. Slowly, it started to go soft again, and I felt it receding. I could
hear the roar of his breath as it passed over my ear. I stirred, he got up
and stood by the bed. I rolled over and looked at him. He looked comically
askew. His usually well groomed hair was sticking up in all directions, his
shirt unbuttoned and hanging off one shoulder, his pants open and held up
only by his black leather belt. I felt the same way, hair a mess, shirt
pushed up to my neck, pants pulled down just below my ass. I sat up on the
edge of the bed and admired his pink, semi-erect cock hanging through the
opening of his black silk boxers. He came back over to me and we kissed
deeply and I leaned back again. We rolled over so that I was on top. I bent
down and took a long deep breath from the brown fabric covering his
beautifully sculpted ass. I smelled the mustiness of a teenage butt. I
licked the cloth and felt the dryness entering my mouth. My first attempt
at rimming had been lackluster, maybe it deserved another try.
	My hands slid under him and unbuckled his belt, he lifted up just
enough that I could do that. I unbuttoned his pants and pulled them down
just far enough to expose what I needed. It was both gross and alluring. I
know this is supposed to be erotic, but all I could think was, "This is
what shit comes out of- I'm not putting my face in it." So, I contented
myself to the exterior. Maybe I'll try again later.