Date: Wed, 15 Jul 2015 09:57:38 -0400
From: Roe St. Alee <roesaintalee@hotmail.com>
Subject: How I Got Carter 13

How I Got Carter - CHAPTER 13


This story contains sexual content, involving high school age males. If
this offends you, please leave this page immediately. This story is a work
of fiction, and any similarities to real life people, places, and
situations is purely a coincidence.

If the above does not offend you, please enjoy!  Your questions and
comments are always welcome, so email me at roesaintalee@hotmail.com.
Chapter 13 took a bit longer than anticipated - sorry about that!  Thank
you for being patient with the story, and as long as you'll wait for the
next chapter, I'll keep on writing slowly but surely.

In addition, I'm looking for a few proofreaders for this story as it
continues.  If you have a sharp eye and know your grammar, please email me
if you are interested!  You'll get first access to all the new chapters and
my eternal gratitude - what's better than that?

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Enjoy!


------- ------- -------


I look up from my book for the four hundredth time in the last five minutes
and check the clock on the cable box again.  It's 5:51.  Same as the last
time I checked.

I recommit myself to reading and stick my nose back into my book.  It's one
of those times where all the words make sense but my brain doesn't create
any useful information from them.  Even as I'm reading I can tell it's just
my eyes scanning across the words with not a whole lot happening behind
them.  I manage to plod through three entire sentences before glancing up
at the clock again.  Still 5:51.

Really this is all my mom's fault.  I came home the day after the party at
the Rothson's and mentioned casually that I had stayed the night at
Carter's place.  My original plan was to stay at Ko's house anyway, so I
knew it wouldn't be a big deal, plus I had my phone with me so she could
have gotten in touch if she had wanted to.  As I've said, Mom gives me
quite a bit of freedom as long as I make good choices.

I digress.  The point is, this is all her fault.

A few days after the party, she came home from work and seemed excited to
tell me something.  Usually that would be a good thing, but sometimes moms
can have a strange idea of what the word `exciting' means.

"You'll never guess who I saw at work today!" she said cheerfully during
dinner. It was just the two of us that night, as the twins were at a
skating party put on by their school.

"Who?" I asked casually, not realizing what sort of bombshell she was about
to drop on me.  My mom works at a hospital as a nurse practitioner, so she
sees a lot of people all the time when they come through the office.  It
could be anybody.  A teacher, my soccer coach, a cousin, or even the mayor.

"Jim Mulkins."

Jim Mulkins?  Oh no, that must be...

"We talked about how you are Carter were in the chemistry class together,
and that you..."

She continued on like this, oblivious to how uncomfortable it was making
me.  For one, I don't particularly like chatting with my mom about the boys
that I have crushes on, regardless of whether she knows about it or not.
For two, I haven't even met Carter's dad, and he probably doesn't even know
that I was over at his house last weekend.  For three, I absolutely
guarantee he doesn't know that I jerked his son off last weekend.

"...and I told him that we'd love to have Carter over some time to repay
the favor of you being over there..."

Could she be any more embarrassing?!  I tried my best to hide all of my
emotions and pretend that our conversation wasn't the most mortifying thing
I'd ever heard, but I could feel the heat spreading through my face and the
sweat starting to bead on my forehead.

"...and we thought it would be nice to have Carter over here on Friday for
the...."

"What?!"

I was jerked out of my embarrassment trance without warning.  What did she
just say?

"Carter's father is having some business associates over for dinner on
Friday, and he was telling me how bored Carter always seems at their get
togethers, so I offered that he could come over here on Friday."  Seeing my
mouth agape, she quickly added, "if that's ok with you."

And that's how it all happened.  That's why I'm staring at the clock
waiting for 6pm, when Carter is supposed to get dropped off at my house,
and that's why I'm fidgety, nervous, and still seething at my mother.  Why
in the world would she do that?!

In her defense, she thinks we're just friends.  Whenever I talk about
Carter with my mom, I make sure to check myself.  There's a big difference
between telling her about today's chemistry lab and swooning over it
because I got to spend ninety whole minutes with the Adonis known as Carter
Mulkins.  In her mind, she just happened to see my buddy's dad, chit
chatted for a while, one thing led to another, and she locked up my dinner
plans for Friday night.  No big deal.

But she doesn't know what this means!  I can hardly keep myself together
when I'm interacting with Carter without an audience, much less when my
mother and little siblings are watching.  What are we going to talk about?
What if he doesn't like the food?  What if he thinks my house is stupid?
What are we going to do after dinner?

I feel like I'm having a boy over.  Gross.

I mean, I am having a boy over, but I don't want to feel sweaty and clammy
and anxious like this.  Especially in front of my mom and the twins!

Ding Dong!

The doorbell rings with finality, as though erasing forever any last
possibility that tonight wouldn't happen.  At this point, it's a sure
thing.  Carter is quite literally standing twelve feet away from me, with
only a door separating him from what is almost certain to be one of the
most awkward evenings of my life.  An inch and a half of wood is the only
thing between me and the terrible uncertainty of having Carter Mulkins over
for dinner.

"Well?"

Mom is standing in the doorway of the living room looking down on me in my
supine position on the couch.  Some small part of me may still have been
hoping that I could just never open the front door, but with the additional
pressure of my mother, I suppose I don't have any choice.  I get up from
the couch, walk over to the door, swallow hard, grit my teeth, and pull the
door open.

"Hey, Jackson!"

Carter is beaming like always, and it only takes about one second for me to
melt into a puddle of awe and awkwardness in front of him.  He's wearing
dark jeans, right on the verge of being skinny jeans - fashionable but not
too tight, but still tight enough to cling to some of the muscles and
curves of his legs.  His grey v-neck is in the same ballpark of fit, not
obnoxiously tight, but enough so that I get a clear look at the faint
outlines of his nipples against the chest of his shirt.  It's perfectly
understated, and I'm hit like a freight train with how incredibly erotic
and sexy he can look without looking like he's trying one bit.

"Uh... hi, Carter."  I stand awkwardly in the doorway for a few seconds
before realizing that I'm preventing him from entering my house.  "Oh!
Sorry," I say, stepping out of the way.  "Come in, welcome..."

Carter steps through the front door, smiley as ever, and comes into our
living room.  Mom immediately swoops over from the doorway and introduces
herself.

"You must be Carter!" she says.  "I'm Jackson's mother.  Jackson had told
me so much about you - I'm so glad you could come by for dinner!"  She's
being nice.  Too nice if you ask me.  It's almost as if she knows
something...

"Nice to meet you, Ms. Willard," Carter says politely.

I feel like my mom's friendliness is cloying in situations like this, the
way being set on fire would be too much if you were feeling a little
chilly, but Carter doesn't seem bothered by it.

"Did Jim drop you off?  I was hoping he might stop in to say hello."

"Uh..." Carter looks down at the ground somewhat embarrassed.  "No, he was
busy getting ready for the party, so his uh... his driver dropped me off."

What?!  Carter's family has a driver?  I've heard of kids at school who
have them, but he doesn't seem the type.

"Well, that's no problem," Mom says without missing a beat.  "Make yourself
at home.  Dinner's almost ready, so if you can just hang out for a few
minutes while I grab the last few things."

Carter nods in affirmation, and with that, Mom swoops back to the kitchen
to finish her cooking.  I didn't ask, but it smells to me like we might be
having pork chops tonight.

Now that Mom is gone, I can finally get it off my chest.

"Your driver?" I ask incredulously as Carter takes off his shoes.

"Shut up," he says.  I can see his cheeks turning a little red, and it's
good in a way to see that he thinks it's almost as crazy as I do.  "My dad
has him through his company for driving between meetings.  He's working
tonight and my dad can't get away, so he brought me here."

I make the snootiest face I can in response, and Carter cracks up.  I know
that he's wealthy, but it's good that we can joke about it.  As I look
around our living room though, I suddenly see it in a new light.  I tend
not to think much about our living room, and I mean that in the best way.
It's well furnished and comfortable, with a decent sized TV and a good
stereo.  But after being in Carter's house and hearing about his driver,
I'm suddenly reassessing all of our possessions as being old, out of
fashion, and shabby.

"This is nice," he says looking around the room, almost as if he was
reading my mind and wants to put it at ease.

"We only have one living room," I tease, "and we had to lay off our driver
ages ago."

Carter chuckles a little, but my comment obviously wasn't quite as funny as
I thought it was.  Shit.  I flop back down on the couch in defeat.

Instead of sitting down, Carter does what anyone would do when they enter
someone's house for the first time.  He starts looking at everything.  The
pictures on the wall, the books on the bookcase, and the magazines on the
coffee table.  It's the sort of stuff that goes unnoticed by me on a day to
day basis, but now that Carter's here I'm suddenly forced to see everything
with fresh eyes.

He finally stops when he sees my copy of Lonesome Dove sitting on the end
table where threw it when the doorbell rang.  Picking up the book, he
smirks and looks back over to me.

"How's this going?" he asks sarcastically.

I roll my eyes and shake my head.  "I think I only fell asleep three times
reading it today, so I'd say it's going pretty well."

Carter laughs, a nice genuine laugh with that million dollar smile
attached.  That's more like it.  I don't consider myself a funny person, at
least not the way someone like Robert is on the swim team.  But anytime I
make Carter laugh, it makes my day.

"That about sums it up," he agrees.

It's that moment that Mom calls us for dinner from the kitchen.  Carter and
I head in and take a seat at the table, where we are loudly and
discourteously joined by the twins a moment later.  We go through
introductions, at least as much as you can with the two strangest twelve
year olds you've ever met, and then Mom lays out our dinner and joins us at
the table.

I was right about the pork chops, and buttered noodles, sweet corn,
applesauce, and salad are joining us at the table as well.  This menu is
straight out of my grandma's cookbook, and for the first ten minutes of
dinner, nobody says a word.  I said those pork chops are good and I meant
it - keeping the twins quiet for ten whole minutes is no small feat.
Finally, Mom starts up the conversation with the usual.

"What did the two of you learn at school today?" she asks.  I look over to
her and I can see that she's already bracing herself for what is almost
sure to come next.

"Nothing!" the twins chorus joyously.

We go through this every night, almost like some sort of family tradition.
I feel a little self conscious that Carter is here to witness it, but
there's no avoiding it.

Mom is unfazed.  "Nothing..." she starts.

"Doesn't count as an answer!" they finish together.

I catch Carter's eye and he looks like he's balancing somewhere between
baffled and amused, a normal place to be when dealing with Randy and Sarah.
He loosens up when he sees my grin.  This is how Mom and I entertain
ourselves at dinner.

"We learned that people in Japan eat squid ink!" says Randy.

"And then we saw a picture of a cuttlefish!" Sarah adds.

"See," Mom says, "that's hardly nothing at all.  What did you think of the
cuttlefish?"

Randy makes a face that indicates exactly what he thought of it.  He wasn't
a fan.

"I want one," Sarah counters.

As usual, I'm not sure whether they're joking or not, but I suppose it
doesn't much matter.  I don't see Mom letting them get a pet cuttlefish
anytime soon.

I look to Carter again, and he looks like he's enjoying himself a little
more.  Once you realize that it's all a big dog and pony show with the
twins, you can sit back and enjoy it.  I probably should have briefed
Carter a little more before he came over, but unless you see them in
action, I'm not sure I could explain what it's like to have dinner with
those two.

"So, Carter," Mom says changing the subject, "when does your father leave
for his big trip?"

It turns out that Jim Mulkins was visiting my mom's clinic to get a few
vaccinations for a trip he's taking to a law conference in Thailand.  Jim
is a trial lawyer, and from what Mom has told me, he's managed to sign up
for all sorts of conferences that take place in exotic locations around the
globe.

"He heads out on Monday," Carter answers.  "With all the flying, I think
he'll be gone almost the whole week."

"So it'll just be you and your mom, huh?"

"Yep."

That's an unusually short reply from Carter, and something about the way he
says it makes me think that the conversation is over.  Mom unfortunately
doesn't know him quite as well as I do, and she keeps right on going.

"What does you mother do?  Does she work?"

I can instantly see that my hunch was right.  Carter fidgets in his chair
like he just sat on something uncomfortable.  For whatever reason, this
isn't something he wants to talk about.

"She doesn't," he finally says, looking directly in the space between me
and Mom, avoiding any eye contact around the table.  "My dad works," he
concludes, hoping to put an end to the conversation.

Luckily, Mom picks up on it, and I can tell from a quick look at her face
that she isn't going to hound Carter any further on the subject.
Unluckily, however, neither of us are able to speak quickly enough to stop
the twins.

"But what does she do?" asks Sarah.

"And nothing doesn't count as an answer!" Randy chimes in helpfully.

I turn to look at Carter and am suddenly torn between two possible routes
of action.  In the first, I leap to Carter's defense and help him out.  I
could lightly scold the twins for being nosy.  I could change the subject
and pretend they never asked their prying question.  Or I could bring up
the possibility of dessert, a surefire way to distract any ten year old.

That would be the nice thing to do, and you might even go so far as to say
that it would be the right thing to do.  But something makes me hesitates,
and I realize I don't want to stop the conversation.  I have my own
curiosity about Carter's parents, ever since I went over there and didn't
meet them.  Now I can assume that his dad was busy with work and can't be
bothered sometimes.  But Carter's mom?  She's still a wild card.  And so,
with Carter on the hot seat, I decide to sit back and watch what happens.

After only a few seconds, the look of apprehension and anxiety on Carter's
face is replaced by the hint of a smirk, and he smugly fires back at the
twins.

"She does a lot of grown up things, so I don't think you guys would
understand."

It was an expert deflection.  I couldn't have done it better myself.

While most kids might react with an uproar, ours react with a sort of
unspoken, "Well played."  I see a look of defeat in their eyes, but also
one of respect.  They have been mastered at their own game, and Carter will
be held in high esteem with the utmost respect, at least until the next
opportunity arises to unseat him, likely within a few minutes.

The rest of dinner goes smoothly, and by the time we finish our pineapple
cake - one of my mom's greatest and most reliable concoctions - I'm feeling
a hundred times more relaxed about having Carter over for dinner.  We're
all talking a lot and Carter is clearly enjoying the company of Mom, and
even the twins, who can be an intense litmus test for anyone who comes over
to visit.

I try to clear the plates off the table, but Mom waves me away.  She
inclines her head towards Carter, silently instructing me to go play with
my friend instead of helping with the cleanup.  I can live with that.

Carter and I head back to the living room, where we link our Nintendo DS's
together and play a few rounds of Mario Kart while the twins do their
homework.  It's the sort of thing I do on an average night.  Between the
video games and listening to Randy and Sarah's conversation, it almost
always makes for an entertaining evening.  It makes me happy every time I
look up and see a smile on Carter's face.  He's liking it here.

After about an hour, Mom comes in to shoo the twins off to bed, and our
electronic battles intensify as the room is now clear of distraction.  The
cup tournament we're playing goes back and forth, all the way up to the
final race, which ends in a flurry of lightning bolts, banana peels, and
turtle shells.  By the narrowest margin of victory, I come out ahead.

I close my DS and set it on the coffee table.  As the winner, I feel this
might be a good time to stop for the night.  With me coming out ahead, that
is.  My victorious musings, however, are interrupted by the sound of
Carter's phone.

"Hey," he says politely.  If I had to guess I'd say it was a parent on the
other end.  "Just finished dinner.  Uh huh.  Yeah.  Uh huh."

At his second `uh huh,' his face screws up.  "I'm not sure, I'd have to
ask.  Are you sure that... Well, I can ask, hang on."

Carter puts his hand over the mouthpiece and bites his lip.  He's about to
ask me for a favor.  That's definitely his favor-asking face, and I make a
mental note that I'd love to see more of it.

"So," he begins, "our driver probably isn't able to make it back out
tonight.  I guess he was invited to dinner and he probably shouldn't drive
anymore tonight."  He hesitates and looks down, embarrassed.  "If it isn't
a big deal, is there any way I could maybe stay over here tonight?"

Considering that this is exactly how over ninety percent of my fantasies
start, I think I'm ok with him staying the night.

"Yeah!" I exclaim.  "That's no problem."  I pause as a new thought enters
my brain.  "I mean, I have to ask..."

"It's no problem," Mom says as she comes down the stairs.  "Make yourself
at home."

Carter and I both turn to look at her, and she suddenly looks embarrassed
that she was eavesdropping.

"Sorry," she says guiltily.  "I was in the hallway for a second listening
if the twins were in bed yet and I heard you talking."

Carter and I both laugh and he gets back on the phone to tell his dad he'll
be staying the night with us.  WIth the new plan in place, we decide to go
and get situated for the night.  After a quick goodnight to my mom, who
sits down to watch one of her shows, we head upstairs for the night.

"Well," I say, "here it is."  I sweep my hands forward, presenting my room
to Carter.

Earlier today I cleaned up my room since I knew Carter was coming over, but
I didn't actually expect for him to spend any amount of time up here.  With
the sudden change of plans, however, it's almost like I'm noticing my own
room for the first time, and I wonder what Carter is thinking about it.
You can tell a lot about a person from the way they live.

When you go in Ko's room, for example, you get a good idea of what he's
like.  The anime posters on the walls, the models and toys everywhere - you
immediately can guess that he's a nerd, and that his brain runs at about a
million miles per hour.  But nothing is cluttered or out of place, so you
can also see that he's diligent and serious in a way.  I'd say that's Ko in
a nutshell.

Hmmm.  If you look at my room, you'd probably think that I was boring and
normal.  It's usually pretty clean - my mom wouldn't have it any other way
- but there's always a few things lying around.  Today, obviously, I picked
up my clothes and tidied up my desk since I knew Carter was coming by.

I don't have a ton of stuff in my room, and it's not especially decorated.
I have a poster of the US Men's National Team, so you'd guess that I like
soccer.  Then there's a few pictures of my family, a smaller soccer poster,
a few postcards from friends, and a cool painting that Ko made last year.
Overall, nothing too exciting.  At least not compared to the massive
entertainment center in Carter's room.

I look over at him and see if I can glean what his impression is.  I expect
him to be looking at something in my room, like maybe my family photos or
Ko's painting, but instead he's made his way over to the window and is
looking out at our small but tidy backyard, barely illuminated by the light
above our back door.

"It's nice to have a room with windows," he says, turning back to me and
smiling.

"I guess," I reply.  It's true that Carter's room doesn't have any, but he
has all that other awesome stuff!  I can't imagine being especially bummed
about my lack of windows when I have all the newest gaming consoles right
at my fingertips.

"No," he says sincerely, "this is nice.  It's really..." he pauses,
searching for the word.  "Normal."

Normal?!  I don't want to be normal.  I want to be awesome and cool.  I
want to be dark and mysterious.  I want to be sexy and outrageous.  I don't
expect to actually live up to any of those descriptions, but anything is
better than "normal!"

Carter must have noticed my reaction, because he jumps in to explain
himself.

"Normal's not a bad thing!" he assures me.  "It's good."  I still must not
look convinced.  "I get it," he says, "I have all that stuff in my room,
and my house is big, and whatever.  But this is so much better."

"How so?" I ask, raising my brows at him.

"Having dinner with your family tonight was normal too, and that's really
cool.  It's not something that would ever happen at my house.  So that and
this," he says gesturing to the rest of my room, "is what I always expect
everyone else is like at their house.  It's normal, and that's awesome."

"I'm sure you could get a room with a window at your house if you really
wanted," I say teasingly.  Seriously, there must be at least five bedrooms
in that place, and Carter's an only child.

He laughs in response.  "I'll keep my basement room."

"So," I venture to ask, "what is normal like at your house?"

"It isn't," he answers without hesitation.  "Everything is just... what is
is."

Now it's my turn to laugh.  "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Look at all this!" he says gesturing around my room.

Look at all what?  I'm looking at the same thing he is, and I'm not seeing
anything special.  A bed, a dresser, a nightstand.  That hardly stacks up
next to a 55" TV and a PS4!  I'm unable to hide my bewilderment, and Carter
shakes his head at me as though I'm missing something completely obvious.

"This is how it's supposed to be.  Like, I bet your mom found this house
and thought, `This will be a great bedroom for my kids,' and `This kitchen
will be great for cooking meals for my family.'  The whole point of your
house is exactly what's happening in it.

"Nothing at my house is like that.  It's just a huge building with a lot of
stuff in it.  I took over the basement because no one used it for anything.
I asked for a TV and some video games, and then I stuck those in the
basement too.  Now it's sort of my space.  But it's the only room in our
whole house that means anything to anyone."

I'm not sure what to say to that.  I don't think he's wrong about my house,
but I never thought about it in that way.  I guess he has a point when he
says that it's all so "normal."  It really is.  It's so normal that it
never occurs to me that other kids I know who seem so similar on the
outside might have something totally different.

"I'm sure something happens in your house that has a purpose," I shoot back
at him.  "Tonight your dad is having people over.  That's something."

"Is it?" he asks.

Is it?  That's a good question.  I honestly don't know the answer.  There's
a lot Carter and I have never talked about.  Even though I feel the way I
do about him, there's a lot I don't even know.  I couldn't tell you the
first thing about his family, and while it's easy to write it off as `it
never came up,' I've never asked.

"What's it like?" I finally ask.

Carter shakes his head.  "Not like this."

He doesn't offer anything else, but I vow to remain silent as long as it
takes to get him to continue.  It takes a full ten seconds before Carter
laughs and starts talking again.

"You could probably tell at dinner that I didn't want to talk about it,
huh?"

"A little bit," I say.  Carter cocks his head to the side incredulously.
"Ok, yeah a lot bit," I admit.

"Do you really want to know?" he asks.  Any trace of a smile has gone.  He
looks serious.  Like he did at the party when we were talking in the spare
bedroom.  This is a big deal for him.

I nod and sit next to him on the bed.  He doesn't recoil or move away at
all, but he doesn't look anywhere near comfortable.  It's not our closeness
that bothers him though, it's just talking about his family.

"We don't have to talk about it if you don't want to," I say.  "But it
seems like it matters to you, and you uh... you matter to me.  As a
friend," I quickly add.

That gets a little smile from him.

"Ok."  He sighs deeply and then continues.  "My dad works and my mom
drinks.  That's about it."  He sees the look on my face and decides to go
on.  "They're not bad or anything like that, but... we're not a family.
Not like yours.  We're just three people who live in a big house full of
stuff.  And that's not the same thing."

It's a lot to take in, but I think I get it.  Nodding in understanding, I
smile reassuringly at Carter.  I can tell that was a big deal for him, and
it means a lot that he could share it with me.

Carter suddenly looks up at me with a strange twinkle in his eye, and I can
tell we're done talking about his family.

"Since we talked about something I didn't want to, now you have to talk
about something that you don't want to!"  The melancholy, introspective
Carter is gone, and the sassy, perky Carter has taken his place in the
course of an instant.

"Uh, ok?" I sputter weakly.  He's caught me off guard with this one.

"Who are you into?"  He nudges me in the ribs with his elbow as he asks,
and it makes me feel weirdly like his kid brother all of a sudden.  I can't
let him push me around like this.

"What do you mean?" I ask, playing dumb.

He laughs.  He knows that I know exactly what he means.  "Are you into
anybody at school?"

I shrug as innocently as possible.  "No, not really."

He looks skeptical, and I hope it didn't come off as even half as big of a
lie as it was.  I only have the biggest crush in the world on the boy
sitting right next to me.  No big deal.

"What?" I continue playing dumb, hoping he won't make a big deal about
this.  Even more, I hope this conversation doesn't end with me tearfully
confessing my true feelings to Carter.  I need to stay strong.

"You seriously aren't into anybody?"

Why's he pressing the issue so hard?

"No, I swear," I respond.  "Not right now."

"Ok," he says, throwing up his hands.  "I just thought that maybe you and
Katy had something going on."

I try not to burst out laughing.  Even if I wasn't gay, that would be
ridiculous.  We've been such good friends for so long, there's no way it
could ever happen.

"What's so funny about that?" Carter asks.  "You guys hang out all the
time, and she's definitely cute enough."

He has a point there, Katy is very cute.  If only I liked girls...

"No," I say, "we've been friends for ages, but we're not... dating or
anything like that."  I think for a minute of how to explain it to someone
who doesn't know, and finally settle on "It would be like trying to date my
sister."

Carter laughs and seems to get it, but he still won't drop it.

"But you're not into anybody?  No one at all?"

"No."

"Hey," he says holding up his hands in defense, "I'm not saying there's
anything wrong with that.  I mean, look at me and Beth.  That's not
something that..."  He trails off and shrugs.  "Whatever, we've already
talked about that."

He has a point.  At least I'm not dating Beth.  I don't think it's exactly
what Carter was trying to get across, but that's my takeaway.

"Don't worry about it," I reassure him.  "It'd be one thing if I was
crushing on someone and all that, but I'm not interested in anybody right
now, so I'm not too worried about it."

"With as much action as I get, I might as well be single," he jokes,
playfully grabbing at his crotch.  Even an innocuous joke like that sends
an extra burst of blood down into mine, and I can feel it start to swell.
Thankfully I'm wearing jeans, so it won't be too noticeable even if I do
get hard.

When Carter pulls his hand away, it goes straight up to his mouth, where it
covers up a big yawn.  Naturally, I see it and yawn straight back at him.

"Good," he says, "I'm glad it's not just me.  It's not even that late, but
I'm getting tired."

"We can get ready for bed and then chill for a while," I suggest.  "Let me
grab you a toothbrush and stuff from downstairs.  Do you need anything
else?"

Carter shakes his head.  "A toothbrush would be great, thanks."

"I'll be back in second."

I grab my pajamas and run downstairs to our main bathroom where we keep all
the stuff like that.  I go through most of the drawers before I find what
I'm looking for - a nice, new toothbrush.  I make a mental note to buy a
new one to replace it next time I'm at the store.

I slip off my jeans and underwear and am starting to pull up my plaid
pajama pants when a thought makes me stop.  I'm going to be sleeping right
next to Carter.  Who knows what might happen to me during the night.  One
errant thought is all it might take to tent these pants up, and I don't
want to make things weird.  Plus there's the almost unavoidable possibility
of morning wood when we get up tomorrow.

No, on second thought I need to do better than this.  I put my boxer briefs
back on and then put on the pajama pants.  With 2 layers on, I should be
protected from any boner-related mishaps.  Feeling more comfortable now, I
grab my jeans and the toothbrush and head back up to the second floor.

When I get back to my room, Carter's nowhere to be seen, but the bathroom
door is closed.  He's probably in there getting ready for bed.  I suddenly
realize he wasn't planning on staying over tonight and that he won't have
anything to sleep in.  I remember the pajama pants he let me wear last time
I was at his house and smile at the thought.  They were more than just
comfortable.

I open up my dresser and rummage through, looking for a good pair of
sweatpants or maybe some shorts that I can offer Carter.  I only have one
other pair of actual PJ pants, and I've worn them a few times already.
Something about Carter wearing something I've already had on turns me on a
little bit, but I'm not sure it would be cool to offer him some dirty
pants.  I hear the bathroom door open, and I'm just about to settle on a
pair of red basketball shorts when I'm suddenly interrupted by what might
be the great sentence I've ever heard in my life.

"Is it cool if I just sleep in my boxers?" he asks.

"Yeah," I say, "no prob..."  I try not to let my eyes bulge out of my head
too far as I turn around to see Carter wearing absolutely nothing but a
pair of short, blue boxers.  They cover just the right amount of his smooth
muscular thighs.  Plenty to see, but they still leave a little bit to the
imagination.  And my imagination is already running wild.

And that's not even talking about the rest of his body.  I've seen it
plenty of times at swim practice when he's wearing even less than this, but
it's still an incredible sight to see.  His abs, his pecs, his arms - he's
like a Greek statue, the epitome of male beauty.  And now here he is,
standing just five feet away from me, alone together in my bedroom.

"What?" he asks me, grinning like the damn Chesire Cat.  He has to know the
effect he's having right now.

"Nnn... nothing," I sputter weakly "You just surprised me."  There's no way
he's going to buy it.

"You sure about that?"

I look up at Carter and meet his gaze with a quizzical look on my face.  He
responds by nodding his head downwards and shifting his gaze to my waist, a
slight smile starting to play at the edges of his lips.  I glance down with
horror to see that my plan of boxer briefs and pajama pants hasn't done
much to hide the growing bulge within.  It would be worse without them, but
it's still not exactly discreet.

I reach down to cover up and start to apologize for making it awkward, but
Cater stops me.

"What's the issue?" he asks.  "You don't have to cover it up."

I don't?  What's that supposed to mean?  He's smiling likes it's not a big
deal, but I still feel weird about it.  I slowly pull my hand away, and
look up to see that Carter's still looking down at the bulge in my pants,
and he still has that same half-smile on his face.  The fact that Carter's
looking down at my package makes it even harder.  If something doesn't
give, I'm going to have a serious problem on my hands.  Or in my pants, at
least.

"I owe you one."

Carter steps towards me, and before I can even connect the dots and realize
what he just said, his hand slips down into my waistband and grabs onto my
now raging erection.  As soon as he makes contact, I can feel the last bit
of the blood in my head race down my veins and pump straight into my cock.
I feel faint.  Carter is grabbing my dick!

Unwieldy as it is in this state, Carter has to reach his other hand down to
maneuver it around to pull free of both of my waistbands.  He lets go as
it's released, and my penis stands straight up, hard as a rock, pointing
directly at the ceiling.  I honestly don't know if I've ever been this hard
before.

"Holy shit..." Carter murmurs, reaching his hand back down to grasp the
iron rod he just pulled out of my pants.  The way he says it turns me on
even more, as though he's impressed by what he sees.  I usually measure in
right around six inches, but right now I'm easily pushing six and a half,
and my dick looks full to the point of bursting.

He starts lightly stroking his hand up and down my hard tool, running it
across the head as he reaches the top, then back down to base.  Every time
he goes over the sensitive head, I shudder involuntarily.  This feels
amazing.  I love doing it to myself - I mean, who doesn't - but having
someone else beat your meat feels ridiculously good.  What have I been
missing all these years?

Best of all, though?  It's Carter who's doing it.  And not just doing it,
but doing it well.  Sam's blowjob was amazing, I'm not going to lie.  As
far as I can tell, he was an expert, and everything he did felt great.  But
even though Carter doesn't have those skills, there's something so
incredibly raw and electrifying about us both having our first handjobs
together with each other.

He strokes gently for a minute or two, then suddenly tightens his grip and
pulls down, revealing the sensitive head of my uncut penis.  I gasp out
loud when he does it, and I hear him chuckle a little bit.  I remember how
it felt when I did it to him.  It was cool having power over someone like
that, and I know he must be thinking the same thing.  At this point, I am
putty in his hands.

He softly runs his hand up and down a few more times before lightly pushing
me back towards the bed.  I catch his drift and first sit, then ultimately
lie back on my bed.  The whole time his hand never leaves my cock, as
though he's gently steering me down into position with a joystick
controller.  Now he leans over me, jerking my raging erection up and down.
I'm in heaven.

Awkwardly leaning over me, Carter gives a few more strokes before kneeling
down at the edge of the bed where he can get a more comfortable angle from
which to work his magic.  I'm propped up on my elbows watching him work,
and he looks entranced by what he's doing.  His face is only a foot away
from my rock hard dick, and the view from where he is must be pretty good.
I make a mental note to try this on him next time I get a chance.

Carter starts to increase his speed, and I feel a tingling start to rise in
my groin.  I want this to last as long as possible, so I lay back on the
bed and try to prolong the experience as best I can.  Not looking at it
seems to help, but I'm still not sure how successful I'll be, because
Carter is speeding up his pace, and I can tell I'm only getting closer and
closer to blowing my load.

Suddenly, he reaches up with his other hand and grabs my balls.  As he does
it, one of his fingers slips lightly past them, brushing ever so slightly
up along my taint.  Whether it's on purpose or an accident, it's way more
than I can handle, and I moan loudly as I feel the building pressure reach
a critical point.

The combination of his rhythmic stroking, a nice cup around my balls, and
the lightest little pressure on that sensitive spot beyond sends me flying
over the edge with one of the hottest, most intense orgasms I've ever felt.
I feel the first blast of cum shoot up to my chin, and then pump after pump
fly onto my chest and stomach.  It feels like a lot, and as I come down
from the high of my orgasm, Carter confirms it.

"Damn, dude!" he says in response to the deluge covering my torso.  It
makes me nervous but at the same time excited that he's looking down at me
all covered in cum, almost like he's impressed or even proud of his
handiwork.

"What?" I say coyly.  Something in me wants to hear him say it.  I want to
hear him talk about what just happened, to talk about jerking me off and
how he just made me shoot my load all over everything.  I want to hear him
say how hot and huge my load was.  I could probably get hard again in a
second if I heard him say something like that.

"You uhhhh... you just made a huge mess."

"No," I shoot back playfully, "you made a huge mess.  I didn't do
anything."

I can't help but smile as I see his cheeks turn red.  He didn't say
anything sexy like I was hoping, but nothing makes me happier than seeing
Carter get flustered or embarrassed.

As I get up from the bed and search for something with which to clean up,
Carter sits on the bed and watches me.  Again, I'm stunned to see that he's
just openly looking at me with no clothes on.  I mean, this the third time
we've jerked off together, but it's never been so open like this.  We've
just done it and moved on without saying anything.  Now we're talking about
it, and he's making no pretense about looking at my cock.

"When's the last time you jerked off?" he asks.

"I dunno," I answer, finding a shirt in my hamper to suit my purpose,
"actually..."

"What?" he asks.

"It was at your house," I say, finishing with on last wipe and then tucking
my now deflated member back into my pajama pants.

I think for a second, but am pretty sure I haven't jerked off at all this
week.  That's rare for me to go that long, but I had a busy week and didn't
have a lot of time just chilling around my room, which is usually how it
happens.  As they say, "Idle hands spend time at the genitals."  Ok, maybe
no one says that, but that doesn't make it any less true.

Carter looks shocked.  "Are you serious?" he asks incredulously.

"Yeah," I respond, shrugging.  "I mean, I usually do it every couple of
days, but we had all those papers and stuff this week, plus soccer and
meetings for drama.  I just didn't get around to it, I guess."  I ask
Carter the obvious next question.  "How often do you?"

"I do it every day.  I can't imagine going a whole week without it."

"From talking to other guys at school, I think I'm probably the weird one,"
I say.  "And it's rare to go a whole week.  I just get so..."

"Pent up?" he finishes, glancing over at the shirt I used to wipe up the
mess we just made.

"Yeah," I admit, "I probably should take care of that a little more often."
Carter is so comfortable talking about it, I get a little bolder.  "It
feels really good having someone else do it, though," I say.

Carter blushes a little bit at that, but he doesn't recoil.  "I can't argue
with that.  Last week was..."  He had a word on the tip of his tongue, but
it seems like he was reluctant to say it.  After a few seconds he breaks
down.  "It was awesome," he says, smiling guiltily at the idea of liking
it.

"Yeah?" I say with a little bit of pride.

I'm not sure how it's possible since I just came about five minutes ago,
but I'm starting to get horny again.  Ok, I know exactly how it's possible.
I'm a 16 year-old boy.

"Well, if you're down to keep doing this kind of stuff," I say, "I don't
see anything wrong with it.  I mean, we all get pent up, and it feels
good."  I bite my lip nervously in anticipation of Carter's reaction.  I
hope I didn't go too far.

More than anything, I want to ask him about Beth.  He must have some
thoughts on how us fooling around with each other affects his relationship
with his girlfriend.  For him, I'm sure it's just about "getting off
together," or whatever you might call it, but I'm even more sure that Beth
wouldn't see it that way.  Bringing it up at a time like this, however,
when he just made me cum five minutes ago, seems like a surefire way to
ruin a good evening.

Carter sighs thoughtfully and hesitates for a suspenseful second before
replying.  "Like I said last time, I trust you, Jackson.  I can't really
see doing this with anybody else, but with you... it doesn't seem like a
big deal."

I shrug as nonchalantly as possible.  "Totally.  It's just, whatever."

"Yeah," he says, "it's whatever.  If we're just getting off together, then
it doesn't really matter."

It's bittersweet to hear all that.  Carter trusts me.  I'm different than
everybody else.  He likes what we're doing.  But it can't mean anything, or
it has to stop.  The ultimate blessing, and the ultimate curse.

Unfortunate as that may be, there's no reason to sit here moping.  Curse
aside, there's a big old blessing poking its way out of the front of
Carter's pants right now, and he more or less just gave me permission to do
what needs to be done.

"So," I say as suggestively as I'll allow myself, "there's no reason for me
not to do this?"  I reach my right hand across to Carter and squeeze his
half hard dick through the thin fabric of his boxers.  It starts plumping
up even more rapidly in response to my fingers, and I could almost swear
that I can feel the heat radiating from it.

Carter responds with nothing but a slight gasp, and I take it as a complete
acceptance of what's to come.  I keep kneading his growing erection through
his underwear until I feel that it's about as hard as it's going to get.  I
pull my hand away and admire my handiwork.  Carters' blue boxers are tented
up about as far as they can go, with the head poking at the the fly,
practically threatening to pop the button off of them.

I have half a stock myself just looking at what I've done.  As straight as
I think Carter is, there must be something I do to him that makes him like
this.  He's been semi hard for the last twenty minutes, and it only took a
few squeezes to get him to this point.  Whether it's conditioning,
anticipation, or just the plain and simple horniness of a teenage boy, it's
satisfying to know that he's hard for me right now.  Not porn this time,
but me.

I reach back down to Carter's bursting underwear and slowly push the button
of his fly back into its buttonhole.  The second it pops through the gates
open, and Carter's bulging, magnificent cock springs forward through the
opening.  In this light I finally have a good view of it, and I take a
second to soak it in, all seven inches of perfect, cut man meat.  I could
look at it all day.

My eyes have hardly had their fill, but I don't want to keep Carter
waiting, so I lightly wrap my fingers around the base and start slowly
tugging back and forth.  I sneak a glance up at Carter's face and he looks
mesmerized, watching my hand go to work on his dick.  It was cool watching
Carter while he jerked me off, so I know exactly how he must be feeling
right now.

On my next stroke I decide to mix things up, so I extend the motion all the
way to the head of Carter's cock and drag my fingers lightly across his
engorged head.  It's beautiful and so swollen with blood, so firm under my
fingertips.  I know mine gets like this too, but it's awesome to see the
whole thing without any foreskin.  The head is so prominent and erotic.  I
keep working my fingers across the ridge at the base of the head and then
across his sensitive glans, and I can tell Carter's loving it.  He bucks
his hips ever so slightly and then lays back on the bed, unable to keep
sitting.

Anxious to see even more, I stop what I'm doing for just a second to hook
my thumbs in the waistband of Carter's boxers and tug them down.  He lifts
his butt off the bed and I slide them off, revealing Carter's flawless body
in all its glory.  Even in porn I've never seen anyone this perfect.  From
his chest, across his abs, V-lines and into his shaved crotch, this boy is
nothing short of a god.  And for the next few minutes, he's all mine.

Sitting next to the naked boy of my dreams as he lays on my bed, I resume
stroking.  Being completely shaved, I have a great view of everything.
There's nothing in the way at all!  I'd say Carter clocks in just a little
bit longer than me at right around seven inches.  I might be a little bit
thicker than he is, but I can't complain.  Truthfully, his cock seems to be
exactly the right size for my hand.  And maybe other things as well...

His hairless balls hang down past that and are the perfect complements to
his perfect cock.  They're about the size of walnuts, and I can't help
myself - I reach out with my other hand and give them a feel as I continue
to jerk up and down.  They're silky soft and wonderful, and Carter moans
lightly as I expand my territory to another sensitive area.

Based on the noises he's making, Carter is having a great time, but it's
hard to imagine he's enjoying this nearly as much as I am.  Leaning over a
little bit, I have my face even closer to Carter's body, and I'm loving
what I'm seeing.  Full access and a clear view of the most beautiful sets
of tackle I've ever seen in my life, attached to the most beautiful boy I
can imagine.  What could be better than this?

Ok, well, I can think of one thing, but there's no way.

Right?

There's no way in hell I can do what I want to do right now.

I mean, I'm only about a foot away at this point.  Looking over at Carter's
face, his eyes are closed.  He won't even know until it's too late.

No, there's no way!  That takes things to a whole new level, and I'm not
sure it's a place that either of us are ready to go.  Once again, if I was
Sam, I wouldn't even think twice about it, but I'm not.  I don't have that
sort of courage, or whatever you want to call it.  I can't do something
like that.

But then again, Sam did it to me.  He somehow made it seem cool and casual,
like it wasn't even a big deal.  And it wasn't!  He made sure I knew that I
was in control, and that he would stop at any time, no hard feelings.  It
wasn't just the words he said, it was the whole vibe.  I never felt
uncomfortable, even though we were crossing a threshold that I would never
have dared to cross on my own.

And now here I am.  Even farther along the path than Sam and I were when he
made his move.  So what's stopping me?  I already have Carter hard, and I'm
already jerking him off.  Is Ko right about it after all?  Just get a boy
hard and he's all yours?

He trusts me.  He said it before.  It's not a big deal.  I can do this.

Bold action.

Bold action.

Bold action!

"Tell me if you want me to stop."

Sam's words coming out of my mouth.  They sound natural and calming, just
like they're supposed to.  Here goes nothing.

"Why would I want you to... aghhhhh!"

Carter's question ends with a sudden moan, because I lean forward, open as
wide as I can, and wrap my lips around Carter's rock hard dick.


To be continued...