Date: Thu, 13 Jan 2005 00:28:36 -0500
From: Just Jake <mission_hockey_4_life@hotmail.com>
Subject: Dear Journal V

This story is a work of fiction and any resemblances to  any
person or written works are purely coincidental.  The author
retains all rights to the work, and requests that in any use
of  this  material that my rights are respected.  Please  do
not  copy  or  use  this  story in  any  manner  without  my
permission.   It  may contain consensual sex  between  young
men,  or  at least thoughts of it.  You've found  this  site
like  the  rest of us so the assumption is that material  of
this  nature  does not offend you.  If it  does,  or  it  is
illegal for you to view this content for whatever the reason
please just keep on passing by.

I do apologize that this is so long in coming; personal time
constraints and all, I just haven't had the time to dedicate
to  Jon.  As always, please read of your own free will,  and
direct  any  positive  comments, constructive  criticism  or
general feedback to: mission_hockey_4_life@hotmail.com.



*    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *

Dear Journal:

Well, what can I say Journal.  It's been a busy few weeks since we last had
a
heart to heart.  Or in reality, since I've written a few lines in
you about my life.  You know what I mean, or would if you were real.

Believe it or not I am happy now.  For a while I didn't think I could be.  I
had poured all of my energy in life to Daniel and into building our
secret relationship.  But these last few weeks, since meeting Chris
at the April Fool's Day Beach Bash have changed that line of
thinking.  I can be happy.  I can go on.  I can have friends.  I can
even fall in (lust?) love with a new guy.

The morning after my first day with Chris was a scorcher of a day.  After
school Tim suggested that I come over to his place for a swim.  He's
again turned to calling me Cheesedick as a pet name when it's just
the two of us.  I wanted to play around with my new cell phone
before heading to my shift at work as it should have been fully
charged by then, so we compromised and we headed to my place for a
swim before I got a lift to work off of him.  He asked me if I
wanted him to pick me up later because my Monday shift is usually a
late one and he knows how I hate the busses.  He's always real kind
and thoughtful like that.  I declined as I was planning on calling
Chris to hang with him maybe for a few minutes after work.  So while
Tim and I were in my pool that really is about to fall apart he
seemed preoccupied with something.  I had a good guess that it had
to do with my little encounter with Natalie that past Friday night.
So instead I try to deflect the attention and ask him about the
wedding he was at on the weekend and about the Big Easy.  Although
he was not his usual chatty self he almost seemed relieved that we
weren't talking about what I'm guessing we were both thinking about.
Yeah, I was lucky up until he drove me to work.  Just blocks from my
home he mentioned that Natalie told him I turned her down, and said
that was a bummer because he thought we would be a good match.  He
never let on that she basically outed me and I didn't give her any
real reason to not believe I'm gay.  He never let on that they
discussed it but I am sure that they did as there was still a slight
hesitation to him.  Before heading into the restaurant I asked if
everything was O.K. and he said yes and asked me the same question
in turn, adding that we're friends and I can talk to him about
anything if I want.

So work was the usual, certainly nothing very exciting.   I called Chris
using a payphone there because I hadn't figured the whole minutes
card yet for the cell phone.  He agreed to see me after work but it
ended up that I was stuck at work late that night breaking out new
cutlery because I got caught using the pay phone, and he left after
waiting forever.  With more planning we tried the same thing the
next week (this Monday) and he drove me home.  I hadn't thought that
part through and after he offered and I had accepted I realized that
I never wanted him to see my house.  But it was too late.  I even
thought about having him drop me off at someone else's house, like
Tim's, but he was a resourceful bastard and had looked up my address
in the phone book and had a Yahoo or Mapquest map and directions
right to my front door.  I did get him to drop me off at Freed Park
just down the street a bit because we agreed that he might raise
questions at home that I wasn't ready for.

That also was the first Monday that Mom wasn't home.  She stayed the night
at
Larry's instead.  I was all doughy eyed from Chris and had a big
grin on my face when I walked in and Lacey acts like the mother I
never wanted.  She gives me a lecture about getting high and that
she's going to tell Mom if I don't slow down with the shit.  Haha.
I guess she doesn't know that Mom smoked up one time with Deanna,
Scott and I last summer.  Mom knows I do the shit, doesn't like it,
but only tells me to not keep it in her house, but at the same time
if I am going to get high which she can't stop to be smart and do it
where I am close to home so that I am safe.  Those are the rules.
But fuck, I'm hardly hard core, sometimes I don't party more than
once every other week.  It's certainly not a daily ritual.  Shit,
it's not always easy to come by anyhow!  And most times it's with co-
workers at the restaurant right after work before I still have at
least an hour on the busses for it to fade off of me anyway.  Plus,
getting back to Lacey, the doughy eyes were for Chris and the little
necking session we had had!

Mom also has stayed over at Larry's last Saturday and again tonight.  Ah,
Mom's these days; they grow up so fast!  They're now two nights a
week sleeping over and the assumption is that Candace, Lacey and I
are old enough to just deal with it.  I think it bothers Lacey the
most.  In some ways she's the baby of the family even if I am the
youngest.  Deanna has taken to calling her a drama queen or prima
donna for her behaviour.  Me?  It's all good.  Mom deserves to be
happy and Coach is from all my experiences a great guy.  He's like
the role model you discover even if you weren't seeking one out.
Plus, in her busier schedule I am better able to fly under the radar
and it makes sneaking around with Chris a hell of a lot easier for
me!  Yeah, I found a huge benefit there!

Chris.  He's so hot, he has a glow to him.  Just being with him makes me
happy with myself.  I rationalize that his comfort with his
sexuality is rubbing off on me in small ways and I am at least
seeing that the world from our position (homosexuality) can
successfully be navigated.  Yeah, it's great to be happy, and he
makes me happy.  So many small things, things he says, sometimes
just the way he says it.  And his actions, he blows me away just
being himself.  He is like a gay Tim.  Sensitive, caring, genuine,
fun, smart, good looking, the list is endless.  I am really happy
that despite the callousness I wanted to show him that night at the
beach that something so simple as his gentle smile won me over.
It's not like Daniel.  It's not really a path of discovery for us.
For me sure, it still is in many ways.  Yet rather than being my
guide, Chris is my partner.  He's taking things at my pace I
sometimes think, but then I wake up and realize that no matter how
many or how few guys he's been with that he's going through the same
feelings and doubts and hopes as me.  He's really good at
communicating his feelings to me and I am trying my hardest not to
be intimidated by him in that manner.  Oh, he's such a sweetie, and
he knows my situation and we work our schedule around the fact that
I am still closeted and have to maintain a normal routine to all
eyes that might be watching.  I want to be more open because of him
and I am slowly easing myself to the point that I might just
introduce him to my friends, not as my boyfriend of course.  Not at
first anyhow.  Let them meet him first and then I can slowly see
where that goes.  Ah, I think I love him!

O.K.  So Journal, you must be in suspense.  Things can't just go smoothly in
my fucking live, right?  Yeah, we both know that!  So where's the
twist you ask?  This Tuesday was again a hot ass day so Tim and I
cut last block and went to his place for a swim and playstation in
his air conditioned house later.  I always seem to be using other
people's shorts when I go swimming, but Tim's knee jammers were a
far cry from Chris's Speedo.  In the pool we got into a wrestling
match which evolved into a game of `pants'.  The idea of the game is
to drop the other guy's shorts/pants/whatever to his embarrassment.
Ah straight guys.  Can't live with 'em, can't live without 'em.  I
certainly can't figure them out; they're as foreign as girls to me.
All in all, I will say that it seems pretty gay to me and I can
never figure out why the hell straights play a game which exposes
another guys ass, cock and balls, or even towel snapping at a guys
bare ass in the change room, but you have to fight back or else
you're a sissy right?  Well, while I am not at all athletically
inclined, I am by no means a wimp.  But still, Tim is a baseball
jock / stud after all, so you can guess who's ass was bare each and
every time that afternoon!  I did fight back for sure but it got to
be a bit too much when we both realized by brushing each other's
cock and balls that we were both hard.  Of course Tim was pretty
smooth about it, like he always is in handling situations, and
casually stopped rather than mention that little fact that we were
both hard.  After a little while he started it up again.  My clever
answer was to take the shorts and just throw them at him, stand
there totally nude and in a suggestive tone say that I guess he
didn't really want me in the shorts after all even though he lent
them to me.  I then hopped back into his pool stark naked with a
major boner showing.  I think he got the point then and I got to
keep the shorts on from that point.  I guess he didn't want his
parents or siblings coming home to see him playing in the pool with
a naked boy.  Haha!

Sometimes I get the feeling that he wants to fool around a bit, or well, I
don't really know.  I mean sexually.  Does he suspect I am a fag and
wants a blow job, does he want to experiment, is he just trying to
figure me out or what?  Again, it's just a hint of a strange feeling
I sometimes get about him, but I suspect he is 100% hetero.  You
think I'm fucked in the head?  Yeah, I think I am fucked too.  Ah
hell Journal, just between you and me, I know I am fucked.  But in
my young life I've learned that we all are, so what's it matter
anyhow?  Oh well.  Anyhow, my latest hang up is that somehow I look
at any guy and see what might be perceived to be a gay tendency.  So
of course my mind was playing games on me at that point with my
borrowed shorts around my ankles, like maybe it was going to somehow
play out the way that Sunday morning in Chris's pool did.  Of course
nothing happens and we hung around in his pool for a few hours
before grabbing some of his Mom's meatloaf and then switched over to
playing Grand Theft Auto. Driving me home he finally broke down and
dropped a bombshell on me.  I over reacted and he called me
neurotic.  Yeah?  So?  like I can help it!   People think I'm
neurotic?  They should try living my life and see the world through
my eyes.

*       **    *    *

Part 5: In The Beginning


It's 7:45 a.m. Monday morning.  Tim is way too much of a morning person,
"Hey
Farrows.  This is your wake up call, I'm on my way over so you
better git yer ass outta bed, sleepy head."

"Fuck Tim.  Good morning to you too.  It's not even eight.  You wet the bed
again?" I bitch and moan.

Candace answered the phone and caught me in the midst of a sorta personal
session if you catch my drift.  Thankfully she never opened my door,
rather she just shouted at me until I poked my head out of it, so
she's none really the wiser.  But she makes a face of disgust that
I'm complaining about the time.  School starts at 8:30, so no big
deal right?  I have more than enough time still.

I'm not even out of the shower and Tim is banging on the bathroom door.  As
I
head to my room he slaps me on the chest and laments that I'll be
late for my own funeral.  But hey, the only thing I am ever late for
is school.  I get good grades, I just can't seem to find my way
there on time without help.  Correction, I get great grades.  Joey
is coming in through the kitchen radio from Concrete Blonde on my
mom's favourite radio station.  Candace is offering Tim a coffee as
I am dressing in the laundry room.  Like a lot of mornings lately
she hitches a ride with us to school; I'm starting to wonder if she
has a thing for him.

Tim's a bit distant, and at the same time he's clingy throughout the day.  I
can't figure it out really.  He's never like this; never moody or
forlorn.  Honestly, he's about the only person I know that seems to
always be on an even keel.  I really get the idea that something is
really bothering him when he ditches baseball practice without even
telling anyone and pressures me to come over to his place for a
swim.  I decline because I have to work and want to go home and grab
my new cell phone that Larry gave me last night, but since it's a
bitch of a hot day for the first week of April a swim sounds good.
Plus he has been my rock when I need one and I feel totally guilty
for not being there for him if he needs me.  Instead I have him over
to my place for a swim.  I know my pool is shit and seriously
starting to fall apart.  I'm just too lazy to drain it and knock it
down.  That and I don't want to be without the pool no matter what
condition of deterioration it's in.  I reason that if I do get rid
of the metal sided pool it gives a useless deck with a gaping hole
in the center of it.  No matter, Tim doesn't mind my pool and never
has commented on it.  So we veg in the pool, too hot to even horse
around.  It's like one of those rare days when you get a taste of
what summer is sure to bring.  For the most part we just talk shit
about this and that and never get to what's on his mind.  A couple
times he seems to take a pause, like he's going to say something but
then doesn't so I say something instead.  He seems relieved that I
am carrying the conversation today.

"How was the Wedding?  It was your cousin right?  Guy or girl?"  I ask.

"Yeah, Chantelle.  She's a year older than me but looks just like an older
Mackenzie." He says, comparing her to his 8 year old sister, then
describing the wedding, "It was pretty cool.  It was done sort of
Mardi Gras style with everyone in the wedding party but her and the
groom wearing masks.  He looks like a dork but I hardly know her
since we only visit a few times a year, so I can't say if they're a
good fit or not."

"Cool, what was New Orleans like?" I inquire.

He thinks for a second, "I don't know.  It's pretty messed up really, kinda
smells a lot.   But it looks like a lot of fun if you're not looking
after three restless siblings and being dragged against your will
for your parents stroll down memory lane!"

I remark, "Cool.  Sounds fun."

"How were things here?" He changes the subject.

"O.K.  Nothing big.  The usual." I pass off, hoping to fly under the radar
of
questions about Natalie and Friday night, before commenting sooner
than really necessary, "I should get my ass moving, even if you are
driving, traffic can be a bitch."

As Tim is driving me to work it finally comes out.  Natalie.  He asks, "So
what do you think of Natalie?"

Gulp, I'm on the spot!  I bullshit, "I dunno.  I don't know her.  But I
think
you two should get together if you like her."

He states, "She told me you shot her down.  Flat out turned her down in
fact.
You sweated it a bit but she got the picture that you not interested
in her.  I don't know, Cheesedick.  You and her are made for each
other.  Trust me, I've known her forever, you'd like her."

So I'm sweating it again.  I have to say something to deflect possible
questions about my sexuality without offending Tim by saying
anything offensive about her.  I don't think telling him that my big
concern about her is that she is a chick and doesn't have a dick is
such a good idea.  That might give me away first of all, like he
might not see her being a chick as a problem like I do!  So I
struggle.

I try to sound convincing, "Ah, you know.  I don't know her and I'm just
biding my time here until I can go away for college.  With work and
you guys I don't have the time for a girlfriend if I am still going
to keep on the honour roll.  Not for the school I want anyhow."

Tim asks, "You've never really mentioned school before, what one are you
thinking of?"

"Well do you remember that group from Canada that came by school?  One was
the University of BC?"  I'm half telling the truth, although I don't
even know what the B and C stand for, "I think it would be cool to
go to another country and lean their ways while I study, and they do
have an affiliation with Texas Tech."

Actually, I've always thought of Ivey league, but I know I can't afford it.
I have thought of Berkley in California to be honest, which reminds
me that Paul Hunter was debating about there also, or a place in
Canada.  So instead of saying I don't know, I dig myself in deep by
telling him about the school in Vancouver, Canada that Paul had told
me about.  I hadn't given it a second thought really, but I relate
the little I know of it that Paul told me last week to get Tim off
my case.

"Bummer.  Then there won't be anyone here to come back to."  He comments.

Not catching on that he's trying to drop a hint here I instead heart fully
state, "That's part of it for me too.  Everyone's either gone
somewhere or going somewhere.  I don't want to be stuck here alone
forever."

We're silent for a bit.  So as we near my work I ask, "Tim?  Is everything
O.K.?  Are you alright?"

"Yeah.  Everything's fine." He says and then professes, "You know, we're
friends.  Right?  And you can tell me anything?  I just want you to
know that Jon."

I find the fact that he says so very odd.  Tim drops me off at work and
practically insists on picking me up afterwards.  He's clingy for
the first time since I've known him.  He seems sad today and I don't
know what to say or what to do to help him.  He's always the one
picking up the people around him.  I feel like a bad friend all of a
sudden.  I feel even worse because while I don't want to drop him, I
weasel out of his offer for a ride home because I want to get a hold
of Chris and see him tonight after work.

My day at work is mostly just another day.  Being on the go constantly is
wearing me down a bit.  Prime example to prove that being that I
slept for probably over 3 hours at Chris's yesterday.   There's an
event coming up this weekend that staff volunteers are needed for.
It's an all weekend event, tying in with Easter weekend.  I normally
don't get bullied into doing the charity events because the main
manager Sonny sees what I already do in a week and my struggles to
help support my Mom and the house.  Sonny actually is an uncle to
Daniel, and that's how I got the job along with Daniel originally.
When Daniel left Sonny had a talk with me and discussed that I stood
on my own merit and that I still have the job based on my work
ethic.  But if I keep burning the candles at both ends I am sure to
screw things up.  So I try my hardest at work still, never coasting.
I mean, I can slack all the time at the music store and it's
considered working, but not here!

Anyhow, I sneak to the payphone for a second after doing a washroom check.
Generally the phone is in a little cubby hole area off of the dining
room with the public washroom entrances to either side of it.  Of
course: my luck, I get caught.  Of the hundreds of times that I
wanted to but never risked using the public pay phone when I would
have gotten off scot-free, this has to be the exception.  I get
busted by Tripp, the dining room manager, and after whining about my
already hectic work load I get off somewhat easy.   Instead of
having to do the weekend event, I have to stay late and wash, polish
and make cutlery rolls out of dozens of boxes of new cutlery that
came in today.  If only I had had time to figure out the stupid
minutes card for the cell phone I would have used it in the staff
washroom instead and been O.K.

Yeah.  So instead of getting out at 10:00, like I had told Chris to be there
for, I got out at 11:15.  I looked all over the parking lot for him
but didn't see him.  Great.  Now I don't get to see him and I have
no ride home.  This means I wont get home until at least 12:30 if
the busses work in my favour, even later if not.  So I drag my ass
down to the bus stop and mope.  Arrrgh!  The busses aren't working
to my favour so I have time of course.  I figure out how to put the
minutes onto the card and am pleasantly surprised that I can use
them right away.  So I call Chris, hoping he's not mad at me.  I get
his answering machine so he is probably pissed at me and ignoring
me.  I don't blame him, I'd do the same thing.  I leave a message
explaining what happened and ask him to call this number from his
call display because I don't know it.  Then a minute later I have
figured out how to find my own number in the phone so I call him
back and leave another message to tell him the number and again
apologize.  During that time I guess he tries calling me.  So we
miss each other again.  It's half an hour later and I am almost at
my bus transfer point when Chris tries me back again.

"Hey.  I thought you bailed out on me."  He sheepishly says.

I plead my case, "NO!  Never!  I'm so sorry.  I wanted to run out ant tell
you but I was already in shit with Power Tripp, and I've learned to
not push things with him.  Hence our name for him, and he was
totally tripping out on people tonight.  I'm sorry.  I'm so, so
sorry, Chris.  And then when you didn't answer I thought for sure
you were pissed at me."

Chris is happy that I haven't ditched him and kids, "You know what Jon.  You
suck!  You really, really suck.  Yeah, I think you called me again
right when I was calling you back.  I didn't get the message
indicator until now.  I thought I was going to have to blow your
house up for revenge.  I guess you're safe for another day.  Where
are you?"

"Almost home," I stretch the truth a bit, still feeling guilty.

"Cool.  I'd pick you up from where you are, but if you're almost there then
I
don't have to make my parents suspicious by running out so late."

"Thanks.  I appreciate the thought.  And again, I'm sorry." I whine.

"Tomorrow?" Chris asks.

"I'm free."  I answer without thinking if I had anything planned or not.
Fortunately I don't.

He thinks for a second, "Kay Sexy, how about you call me after school?  If
you don't get me leave me a message and I will call you!"

So Tuesday flies by for me.  Tim is back to himself mostly at school.  On
the
surface anyhow.  He doesn't make plans with me for the night so I
don't have to worry about wimping out on him.  Almost always we are
doing something at some point on Tuesdays, whether it's a cheap
movie or a cheap place to eat.  Yeah, we make the best of the Tight-
Ass-Tuesdays.  But not tonight.  So instead I bus down to the
Meyerland Plaza Shopping Center by the restaurant I work at and meet
Chris there and we do Taco Tuesday at Taco Bell and catch Scream 3.
Not what you'd think would be a good first movie, but it gives us
lots of chances to act scared and actually hold hands!  Yeah, I
actually hold hands with Chris in the theatre and no one ever says
anything!  That was a cool night and we made out for a few minutes
in one of the bathroom stalls in the theatre before we went our
separate ways that night.  I insisted on bussing back home.

Wednesday I work my shift in the music store in the Northwest Mall, opposite
my school.  I talk on the phone with Chris after work because Tim
wasn't waiting for me to call after work like he often does.  I hang
out with Tim for a bit on Thursday before going to his and Neil's
baseball game.  I go to the game with Tania and her friends Stacey
Smith and Natalie.  It's a bit awkward, but Natalie is cool and we
pretend like the previous Friday didn't happen.  Friday it's the
usual four of us: Tim, Neil, Tania and me.  We go to a house party
after going to the school football game, with a stop at Pizza Hut in
between.

Then it's a usual weekend for me except I had to make an excuse to Tim about
Sunday morning so that I can spend it with Chris again.  I'm still
not sure that things are all kosher with Tim.  No one knows where he
is after my shift at the restaurant Saturday night.  He isn't at
home, or answering his cell phone to pick me up and go out for a
while like usual so I call Deanna to see if she can pick me up.
She's gone to Austin with Scott for the weekend to visit his family
so I am plum out of luck but she tells me not to hurry home because
Mom is going to be spending the night at Larry's anyhow.

As it is only 9:30 and I was cut early for a change I called Chris instead
and ask what he's up to.  Chris is at a friend's house and asks if I
want to come.  I figure what the hell, why not.  If his friends are
cool with him then it might be neat to be around them and get to
just be me.  I am nervous about meeting his friends and worried
about what they really think of me; them being at least middle class
and me being poor class.  I almost back out when Chris pulls up with
his friend Bobbie and another guy that I recognize from the Beach
Bash.  Chris does the introductions and the other guy, his best
friend Allister, shakes my hand and said hi before hopping into the
back seat with Bobbie so that I can sit in the front.  We go to a
house where there are few other guys and girls around a fire pit in
the back yard.  Chris is totally comfortable and confident in his
group of friends.  He's bubbly and introduces me to everyone and is
always talking with someone, trying to include me in the
conversation as much as possible.  Everyone is totally fine with me
and respectful that I feel on the spot.  No one asks any
embarrassing questions of either of us; we're just another couple in
their eyes it would seem.

Allister does do the best friend bit for Chris, asking me a million
questions
about myself, my family, my life, my friends etc.  I guess I meet
his standards and he starts telling me funny stories about Chris.
Shortly after Chris realizes that I am getting some dirt on him,
like the time he borrowed this girl Leigh's field hockey uniform for
Hollowe'en, or the time he was really sick and from a party.  I
guess they are memorable moments that Chris will never get to live
down with his friends and Allister wants to include me in on them.
And of course I know first hand about the shaved legs (and totally
smooth body) already.  I keep getting offered drinks and at one
point one guy named Bill just puts a couple different beers and a
bottle of Malibu rum in front of me.  I don't know any of the beers
and Bobbie comments that the Malibu is yummy.  I've had it before
mixed with melon liqueur as shooters at different parties and liked
it so I have some with orange soda.  It doesn't really taste like
alcohol so I have more than I figured on having.  I don't get near
drunk though.  What image would that give?  People are starting to
disappear by the time it's 12:30, and Chris thankfully tells the
group it's probably time he gets us going.  After the host, Bill,
starts it off the people still there are all cordial and say it's
nice to finally meet me after like a year of knowing me vicariously,
making light of the obsession I know Chris developed for me.  Then
they all say good night sincerely.  I catch a quick, subtle two
thumbs up from Allister to Chris and my heart lifts.  It may not
have been meant for my eyes but it's all good because hey, I'm a
thumbs up at least.  Hell, I'm a two thumbs up!

That night instead of going home Chris sneaks me into his place.  He lights
a
few creamsicle (orange-vanilla) and wildberry scented candles
throughout his bedroom and turns off the lights.  We go straight to
the bed and cuddle and make out.  Little by little we start to
explore each other's bodies again and the clothes eventually get
removed over the course of the next hour.  I love the coolness of
his silk sheets and the firmness of his big bed contrasting with
soft pillows.  By comparison everything I have is thin, soft and
lumpy.  Better yet, I love the way he's making me feel and the way
his body feels so incredible against mine.  I know I'm only
seventeen, but damn, I am ready for this!  I think I am at the
moment at least.  Yeah, my emotions have been changing constantly
the past two weeks, but tonight at least I am confident that we're a
good fit.  I'll let worries like the fact that I am out of my league
here with Chris wait until tomorrow.  I am ready to be loved and it
sure feels good to have some one to love too.  It's not because I am
raging with horomones and after last weekend I am desperately
clinging to Chris's desire of me to make me feel good about myself.
Not just physically, although there is definitely that, but
emotionally it feels rewarding.  When I'm not worrying that it'll
never work, that is!  Arrrgh!  Don't think!  Just act and figure it
out later.  He wants me and he is a god, straight from a calendar or
magazine; what boy in his right mind wouldn't want Chris?

We 69 for a brief time before I start working on his bud.  I want him to do
the same but he is concentration on my boner.  I want him inside me
again.  It's like a tonic that I can't get enough of.  I am addicted
and I've only ever had a guy in me twice!  I feel disappointed when
Chris slips a condom on me instead.  He has the sweetest pleading
look on his face so I don't object outwardly.  With me lying on my
back he mounts me and slowly gets a rhythm going before he suggests
that I now join in.  As we both stroke his lovely 7.5" manhood we
last for a couple minutes before he arches back and volleys a couple
squirts in the air and I feel them land on my stomach and chest.
The rest dribbles out and I feel it in my crotch.  After slowly
dismounting me he pulls the condom off of me and tries to bring me
to climax.  He's doing a good job, but I get something like stage
fright with him so I have to take over and really go at it before
finally adding my cream to his on my front.  Chris wipes our
passionate mess off of me and we make out for a bit again before
drifting off to sleep in each other's arms.

We bump heads at some point early in our sleep and decide it's better to
maybe just lay on our sides, side by side, rather than tangled up in
an attempted cuddle.  This works a lot better and it's hours later
when I notice Chris getting out of bed.  I stir slightly, but not
fully.  After blowing all of the candles out he returns to bed.
Instead of laying in front of me with his back to my front he gets
in behind me.  He presses his body against my back and I drift off
again as he plants gentle little kisses all over my neck and
shoulder.  In the morning I wake to my boner in his mouth.

"Good morning, Sexy." He says, taking a break from his attention to me.

I scurry around on the bed so that my face is below his crotch and we start
to 69 again.  He is dripping pre cum and I drink it all.  This lasts
for a while until I tell him that I am getting close.  He says cool
and then gets off of me.  He lifts my legs and slips his under mine
so that we are sitting butt to butt, with our crotches inches apart.
He entwines his feet behind my back so I do the same behind his.  We
jack off together and aren't very quiet as we do so.  Not like last
night anyhow.  I am worried about being heard but it's over all to
quickly anyhow as we both shoot on ourselves.  We hug in this
sitting position for a bit and make out again until Chris draws his
legs back, pushes me onto my back and then grinds his body against
mine.  We again drift off to sleep in each other's embrace.  At some
point into the daylight I wake and fix our position so that the
circulation isn't cut off to my arm beneath him.  He doesn't stir.

I wake again around 10:30 and decide to return the favour to him.  He is on
his side, but more on his stomach so I take advantage of his great
exposure and put my tongue to his bud.  He wakes up with a start and
then realizes what I'm up to.  Again he says good morning, but with
a lot of cheer!  I have seen his lube and an extra condom on the
floor beside the bed so before he can argue I am putting it on.  I
don't really care to be the one putting my penis in his bud, but I
am game for it this morning and he sure seems to be.  After a little
while of loving him I can sense that I am causing him discomfort so
I withdraw.  Chris flips onto his back and I guess he wants me to
love him that way instead but I must admit I really don't know how
to.    The condom from the night before is down by our knees so I
grab it and lube up Chris's penis.  I slip the condom on him as best
as
I can and ask him to show me how he wants it.  He sighs a bit but obliges
me.
He is in me a lot quicker this morning than a week ago and it feels
all good.  So after probably a minute he stops and pulls our, and
rolls back onto his back.  I put a ton more lube on my condom and
imitate what he had just done.  After massaging his bud with the tip
of my penis I slowly, carefully re-enter him until our hips are one.
I start the motion that he used on me and he starts to moan and
wimper!  I can't even pull out before I am letting loose my load.
After I withdraw Chris slips the condom off of me and replaces the
one on him with it.  I figure that it's wrong, but then we do both
shoot our loads on me so it's not really any different is it?  He
asks me to just slide it back into him for a second and he'll be
right there with me.  Against all good judgment I almost do as he
asks.  Instead I slip on the other condom that I used on him last
night and just had him use on me.  I really can't see the difference
between this and not using anything at all, but oh well.  So still
boned up, I slip back into him.  Very quickly as he's pumping away
with his hand I can feel his muscles tighten and he jets his load
into the same condom I just wore.

After a shower together with a little innuendo we are good to go for the
day.
I again borrow clothes from Chris, as he insists because I only have
the same stuff I wore the day before.  I do start to fret that I
don't have clean work clothes for my shift at the restaurant and
don't even have anything clean at home; I only have the one uniform.
I usually just wash it as soon as I get home so that it's good to go
for the next shift.  But shit!  I haven't called home.  I'm dead
meat when my Mom gets her hands on me.  Well, more specifically,
I'll wish I were dead by the time I'm done with the lectures about
responsibility and disappointment and making her worry and all that
good loving mother guilt trip stuff.

Chris offers, "How about I get your clothes washed, all of it, and you call
your Mom."

I'll agree to anything at the moment in my panic, "Sure, sounds good."

I'm on the phone right away.  Candace answers and toys with me, "Moody, you
are so fucking dead.  This is going to be fun!"

"So Mom's pissed?" I ask.  As if I need confirmation of what I already know
is inevitable.

"Ballistic!  You know Mom."  She confirms.

I face the music, "Can I talk to her or wouldn't you suggest it right now?"

Candace giggles, "O.K.  Moody.  Here's the deal.  You fuckin owe me huge.
That had better be a good party you were at and a good piece of tail
you got.  Mom didn't get home until like 11:00 this morning so I
said you were already gone.  Lacey was all over ratting you out,
like usual, the bitch.  But she thought after Mom called and said
that she ain't coming home last night that it was safe for her to
slip out too.  Some boy she's been chasing.  He's dirty and creepy
if you ask me.  And me?  I had a good old party of one here last
night, and I'm the supposed wild child!  So anyhow, before Mom got
home I told Lacey if she tells on you I tell on her.  Fair's fair an
all, right?"

"Thank you so, so much Candy!  I owe you big time." I am overjoyed that I'll
live to see another day.

"Yuh, huh.  As long as we both know it.  So tell me my little heart breaker
brother, who's bed did you sleep in?  Or better yet, do you even
know where you are?"

I attempt to tell her a part truth, "I slept in a guy's bed, with him.  No
girl, I swear.  Just too much to drink.  And yeah, I know where I
am."  I realize that that sounds incredibly gay.  In trying to be
vague I might as well have just said I had sex with that guy too,
and I'm wearing his underwear for the second Sunday in a row.  Maybe
add in that I'm totally dressed in his clothes right now while he's
having a servent wash mine.  Yeah, why don't I think before I talk
sometimes?

She calls me on what she figures to be a bluff, "Sure, sure Moody.  Hope she
was good.  And no, don't tell me about it.  O.K.?  I'm your cool
sister, but I still don't want to know."

"Thanks Candy!  I owe you, I really do!"  I acknowledge again as we're
saying
goodbye.

So for the second Sunday in a row I am wearing Chris's most personal
laundry!
I'm in a green rugby shirt and tan cargo shorts, white socks with
the grey toes and ankles and cute navy blue Armani boxers.  Even the
boxers are ironed!  Hell, Chris's boxers cost more than probably any
one item of my clothes.  Or close to that at least.  I use some of
his `product' for my hair.

He leads me down to the kitchen to grab our afternoon breakfast.  His whole
family is there.

"Morning again, Son.  Morning Jon." Chris's Dad is taking it all in stride,
especially probably knowing that I slept with and presumably had sex
with his son last night.  Turning his attention directly to me he
introduces, "This is my wife Sarah and Chris's sister Alex, and I'm
Dom.  We've heard a lot about you, even visited you, it's nice to
finally meet you!"

"Good Morning Mr. Milner, Mrs. Milner, Alex.  It's nice to meet you too." I
say in turn, looking each of them in the eye as I do so.

"I think they smell fear," Chris whispers to me loud enough that it's
obviously his way of getting his family to go easy on me.

His Dad ignores his attempt to let me off the hook easy, "So you work two
jobs and you are an honour student?"

"Yes sir." I say.  I am more nervous meeting Chris's family than I am when
he
and I have sex!  It's all I can do just to remember my manners and
speak in a polite fashion.

"Very impressive, you must have a good work ethic.  Where are you going to
go
to college?" Chris's mother compliments and then presses.

College.  School.  All of a sudden where I am planning to go for school has
become a big issue in my life.  And I don't even care where I go
really.  It just has to be far away.  So I give the line that I want
to go to Berkley or maybe study abroad through an affiliation of a
local college.  I don't get specific because it will become obvious
that I don't know much more than that I want to study Law or
Business.  Maybe Business Law?  Does such a thing even exist?  And
if I study it in another country is it even valid here in the U.S. I
wonder?  So yeah, basically I don't know!  Luckily I don't get
called on my bluff.

After French toast made by his mother and an extensive background check by
his parents, Chris excuses us so that we can change the laundry.
His sister says that that's gross and she doesn't want to hear about
his bed sheets so he explains my work uniform dilemma to her.  I
have to say I am quite amazed that Chris even knows how to do
laundry let alone has to do his own.  There is a staff of three in
his house.  One cook, one cleaning lady, and one groundskeeper; all
part time.  He switches my clothes into the dryer, adds a bounce
sheet and starts the machine.  We play pool in the basement games
room while we wait on the dryer.  He blows me away again when he
takes the iron to my work pants and even my work T-shirt!  I have to
stop him short of ironing my white Hanes.  He's just a little Martha
Stewart!  I would have stopped him earlier, especially with the T-
shirt, but it was just so cute.

So after Chris drops me off at work it's just a normal Sunday.  School is
pretty much over for colleges and we are swamped with graduation
dinners and group goodbye dinners.  Some Sundays I get cut around
8:30 but everyone stays until we close at 10:00 this night.  By the
time I get home it's almost midnight.  I don't even bother with the
computer, I just put my uniform in the wash and crash into bed.  I
imagine Chris's body with mine and fall asleep before I even finish
jerking it.

Monday morning; similar routine.  Tim calls, Candace or Lacey yell, I can't
make out which crow is squawking me to the land of the coherent.
Waking up with a sock still on my cock, I get up, throw my uniform
from the wash into the dryer, shower and get ready, and then go to
school.  Tim goes to baseball practice this week.  I can't figure
what the hell last week was all about.  I go to work and when I get
home Mom's not there.  She spends the night at Larry's.  Chris
picked me up after work.  This week I am done precisely the minute
the doors are closed.  I change in a flash and am off for a little
fun with him.  Instead of the Jeep that Chris has been driving he
has an electric blue Dodge Dakota, all done up with the sports kit.
He also has come armed and ready with a map and internet directions
from his place to mine.  I don't want to be callous, but at the same
time until I have figured out the hows, there's just no way that I
am letting Chris's presence get noticed.  Instead I convince him to
take me to Freed Park, just up the block from my house.  When we get
there we make out for about half an hour and then I am walking the
rest of the way home.  When I get inside Lacey is waiting up for me,
I guess she's looking for something to rat out on me.  She thinks
that I am stoned and threatens to tell Mom.  Like I care, go ahead
and tell her what she already knows.  So I burn a little blunt!
Ooooh ieee!  No biggie.  But still, why does the bitch feel like
it's her place to act like she's my mom in her absence.  Shit, Lacey
is barely a year older than me.  Where does she get off.  And no
matter, I am not stoned and I tell her so.  It's the fact that I
just made out with Chris for half an hour that has me smiling and my
eyes all happy.

Tuesday is when things get weird.  Usually Tim plays part if not most of
every game for the senior school baseball team, I think.  They have
a home game tonight.  So I find it incredibly strange when Tim
suggests that we cut last block of the day and head over to his
place.  We sneak out and head to his car.  When we get to his place,
I have nothing to wear to swim with like usual.  As I am changing
into a pair of his beach jammer shorts I spot his school team
uniform on the floor from yesterday, (yes I do stretch my eyes
looking for his jock to no avail) so I am guessing that he never
intended to show up for the game today.  This strikes me as odd, so
I realize that something is seriously wrong and I want nothing more
to be his friend and someone he can talk to, just like he confirmed
to me last week when he dropped me off at work.

We horse around in his pool.  Tim keeps pulling down my shorts.  I hate this
game.  Like really, really hate it.  Hate is a strong word, but I
have decided at some point that I HATE THIS GAME!  Why do guys have
to do this?  Is it true that even straight guys are slightly queer?
Are all straight guys really closet cases somehow too?  Do they
really want to see another guys ass, crack, cock and balls?  It
confuses the hell out of me why they do it!  And more so, what will
Tim say someday when he's looked at me naked a hundred times and
slept with me and I tell him I am gay.  Fuck, I know he's laid back,
but that will creep him out bad I suspect.  I wish I could just tell
him now and get it off my chest.  Get it over with and pick up the
pieces of my then shattered life and see if I can go on from there.

I'm confused and half ready to just lay it out on the line, `Tim, I don't
want to have sex with you because I have debated it like mad in my
head and I'd rather you be a real friend, my only real friend.  But
Tim, you are hot as hell, and I get a perverse pleasure sleeping
with you, and you may find it sick and twisted, but when you
manhandle me I never want it to stop.  You have the body of a 17
year old god.  I block out the sexual thoughts as much as I can
because I know they just get in the way, but in my mind you've made
love to me at least a dozen times each in probably a dozen different
ways.  Still I want you as a friend more.  I wish I were straight
because of you.  Fuck, I want to be you.  But you'll never
understand what it is to be me.'

But I can never say that; I can't even build up the nerve to tell him I'm
gay.  I couldn't when we were just really getting to know each
other, and as far as he goes, I now have to carry my secret to the
grave for his sake; now that I've selfishly, albeit platonically,
slept in the same bed with him.  Still, I don't quite get it.  Is
this his way of coming on to me?  No, he usually never gets aroused.
Usually I'm the one to get hard for obvious reasons when he does
this repeatedly to me, and he really only gets hard if I touch him a
lot in the crotch accidentally when we wrestle.  The site of me
naked certainly doesn't pitch a tent in his pants when I give up on
even pulling the shorts back up, instead I take them asn wip them at
his head and jump back into his pool naked.  I guess he wants me
that way and I tease him so.  So what gives.  Is he all fucked up
right now and flirting with me?  Is his problem that he wants to
tell me that he's gay?  Or bi-sexual?  Has he figured me out and is
just teasing me?  Nope, I guess not.  After asking if he'd rather me
be nude he's left the shorts alone.

We get out of the pool when his Mom announces that she has made dinner.  I
eat with his family and find it quite eerie that his family is like
mine in many ways.  Tim is 6 years older than his next sibling and
then they are all three a year apart, much like Deanna is 7 years
older than Candace and then Candace, Lacey and I are all one year
apart.  The only difference is that its boy, girl, boy, boy for them
and girl, girl, girl, boy for us.

After dinner we play playstation for a while and I still can't figure Tim
out.  Grand Theft Auto is like his biggest addiction but tonight
he's hardly paying attention to what he's doing.  Finally getting
into his Mustang to take me home I build up the nerve to confront
him.  It's funny how we always end up having our little heart to
hearts in his car.  I just blurt out, "Tim.  Something's bothering
you.  Major big bother.  You said you're my friend and I can tell
you anything last week.  Same goes for you, so how about you spill
the beans already?"

He lets out a good few sighs before finally speaking, "Yeah, you're right.
I
know that it goes both ways.  I wanted to tell you last week but I
didn't want to tell you until I had things figured out at the same
time.  Jon, man, I gotta talk about something heavy.  You've become
my best friend and I owe it to you." He's put a hand on my leg
rather than the gear shifter and I'm thinking he's about to come out
of the closet to me as he speaks, "Something happened when I was in
New Orleans a couple weeks back.  My dad checked out a couple
business opportunities in Baton Rouge and he's decided that he is
going to take a transfer to an office there where he will be the
senior executive and make tons more money.  He's been dropping hints
for a year that some guy there is nearing retirement and he wants to
get back closer to where he grew up.  Well, that guy is officially
done on Labour Day minus 5 weeks vacation time.  My Dad applied for
the position and got it straight away."

I'm floored.  I kick the floorboard and punch the ceiling.  Tears are in my
eyes.  I look away; I don't want to show him.  Mostly to myself I
lament, "Why do I even fucking bother making friends, they all fuck
off right out of my life anyhow.  You'll be the third so called best
friend I've lost now."

"Farrows, man I love you but you're fucked, you know that right?  You're so
neurotic.  F.  I.  N.  E.  Fine.  Fucked-up, insecure, neurotic,
emotional.  That's why I love you.  You wear your heart on your
shoulder more than you know, but you still just plain nuts!  This is
why I couldn't tell you."  He half shouts at me.

Fine, whatever.  I'll live.  So I'll just deal with this when I'm alone and
no one can see.  No one actually wants to see another person be real
and show pain or hurt.  I should know that no matter how stupidly I
delude myself that people, even supposed friends, even self
professed friends, don't really care.  And I am just his best friend
by default I realize when I am being honest with myself, too.  Neil
would be if he weren't always with Tania now, or Daniel would have
been if he weren't in St. Louis.  I'm just here, so I am his best
friend by default.

So I compose myself, and put up the act, "So when are you leaving?"

I brace myself for the news.  Tim hesitates, then smiles, "I'm not
Cheesedick."

"Whatever.  No, really.  Don't be a fucktard.  When are you moving." I'm not
in the mindset for his little word games.  I totally see why Daniel
got pissed off at him sometimes because he toys with you if you
don't use proper grammar or sentence tense and shit like that.

He gives, "I'm moving right after school, the rest of the fam is moving away
in late July probably.  I think a realtor is coming by Saturday so
we can put the house up for sale with a closing date that'll be some
time after school ends."

My heart is sinking, I suspect he's not really telling me the full truth, "I
knew there was something.  I didn't know necessarily what, but I
just knew it!  You've been hiding it for two weeks now and I knew
something was up.  You say you're not moving but now you are?  And
why are you moving before them?"

Tim's laughing at me.

"You're slow on the up take today.  Usually you're a quick study and don't
miss these things!  I'm moving, but not leaving."  He stresses the
words moving and leaving, then hesitantly adds, "I'm getting an
apartment here, or maybe staying with someone.  It took a lot of
fighting, especially with my Mom but they gave in and are going to
let me finish my school here!  I didn't want to break the news to
you until I broke them down."

"So you're staying?" I ask, already knowing the answer as the tone of his
voice has betrayed a lie.  He's just trying to break it to me easy,
in pieces.  I'll find out that his parents never said he could stay,
or magically they'll change their minds and he'll tell me that he
had to move too.  I know somehow he's just trying not to upset me.

"Yeah, I'm staying.  Got an extra room?"  He jokes.

I wish!  I really, really do.  I don't want to loose Tim.  He really is my
best friend.  I wanted to know him forever, I even want to come out
to him soon now that I am with Chris despite my inner fears.  He
just might be O.K. with me.  And that certainly wouldn't suck if he
liked me, as a friend, for who I truly am.  Shit, my heart screams
out to be set free!  I wish we had room for him at my place.  But my
place is tiny, so I dejectedly reply, "You've seen my place right?"

*    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *

So  I'll  leave Jon and you here for now, reader.  The  next
few parts are in varying states of completion, but I promise
that  they will all appear much sooner than this part  took.
My  apologies  in the delay, but selfishly my boyfriend  has
been my focus, and as we really start our lives together  in
our new home he will continue to be.   *I love you MH*

And  yet I vow to continue with Jon as much as I can.   I've
got  some very solid ideas in mind, but would also  like  to
know  what  you think.  As always, please read of  your  own
free  will,  and direct any positive comments,  constructive
criticism        or        general       feedback        to:
mission_hockey_4_life@hotmail.com.
Thanks!        ~Jake