Date: Tue, 18 Nov 2014 23:34:26 -0500
From: Roe St. Alee <roesaintalee@hotmail.com>
Subject: How I Got Carter - Part 8

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 welcome, so email me at roesaintalee@hotmail.com. 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.

Don't forget to donate to Nifty, and keep this site thriving.

Enjoy!

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

Ten seconds ago, I was on my way out the door.  I was going to hop on my
bike, pedal hard for about fifteen minutes, and make it home in time to
help my mom finish getting dinner ready.  Then I was going to do a little
bit of homework, watch some TV, and get to sleep early.  I have a long day
of school tomorrow followed by soccer practice, so I would need a good
night's rest.  That's it.  An uneventful evening, just like any other.

Five seconds ago, however, the night took an unexpected turn.

Instead of waving goodbye and seeing me out the door, Sam, my new friend
from school, dropped to his knees, pulled my shorts halfway down my thighs,
and started sucking my dick.

Who would have seen that coming?

Once I get over my complete and utter surprise, my first blowjob is almost
everything I imagined it would be.  Sam knows what he's doing, there's no
question about that.  He starts slow and easy, stroking my rapidly
hardening member with one hand while he licks slowly from the base all the
way to the tip.  When he hits the head, it's like a little jolt of
electricity shoots through my body.  This already feels great, and we've
hardly even started.

Once I'm fully hard, he slowly but surely starts taking me into his mouth,
little bits at a time, until he's worked his way down about half of my six
inches.  It's warm and wet and feels something like heaven.  He swirls his
tongue around a few times, which is just another new and fantastic feeling.
Then he starts moving up and down, slowly at first, but then at a steady
rhythm.  I knew getting head would feel good, but this beats jacking off by
a long shot.

Now, if you remember, I did say that it was ALMOST everything I imagined it
would be.  The missing ingredient, of course, is Carter.

Some part of me - probably the delusional part - always imagined that we
would share our first experiences together, including this.  I know it's
far fetched, bordering on the impossible, but on the extremely small chance
that anything ever happened between us, I wanted Carter to give me my first
blowjob.

Well, you can't have everything you want.

I guess I have to start somewhere, and Sam's mouth is not a bad place to do
it.  Plus, Carter said that he had gotten a blowjob before, so this is only
fair, right?

Within a few minutes, Sam has me right on the edge.  Between his skill and
my inexperience, I'm not surprised I didn't last long, but it doesn't stop
me from trying as hard as I can to hold back and prolong things.  The
longer it goes, the better it feels, and I know my climax is building
slowly but surely, no matter what I do.

Suddenly, Sam pushes forward hard, burying all six inches of me deep into
his mouth.  I can feel his nose tickling my pubic hair, and my cock feels
better than it ever has in my life.  It's only a matter of seconds before I
cum, shooting my load into the back of his throat.  A shudder rips through
my body and I gasp aloud as he pulls off.  Hot damn, was that ever awesome!

After giving my half hardon a quick once over with his tongue to clean it
up, Sam stands back up in front of me and licks his lips.

"I couldn't bear to see you like that," he says, shrugging his shoulders.
"You're so frustrated and pent up with all your feelings."  He shakes his
head and looks at me with understanding.  "Straight boys.  They'll kill
ya."

He smiles in a way that is surprisingly not lustful, considering what he
just did. If I had to describe it, I'd say it looks friendly more than
anything.

"I..."

I'm still reeling from the sensory assault of my first blowjob.  It's hard
to put thoughts together, much less words.  I don't know what to think, and
I'm not sure what conversation we need to have, if any.  The conflicting
feelings and questions are getting completely lost in the afterglow of my
orgasm, and that throws any chance of being articulate clear out the
window.

Sam just laughs.

"Don't worry about it," he says, punching me playfully in the arm.  "If you
want to talk about it later or whatever, we can, but it's no big deal.  I'm
just trying to help you get outta your shell a little bit.  Now go home
before your mom starts worrying about you."

"Yeah," I finally manage to stammer, "Ok.  Uh... I'll see you at practice
tomorrow."

Sam laughs again as I step out the door and towards my bike.  I hop on and
head in what I hope is the direction of my house.

My ride home is a vortex of conflicting ideas, feelings, and emotions.  The
twenty or so minutes in the cool, fall air helps me wrap my brain around
everything that's happened in the last few hours.

I mean, it was an awesome day, there's no denying that.  Our shootout in
the backyard was a ton of fun, and I learned a lot about archery - that's a
good thing.  It was one of the first times Carter and I have hung out
outside of school or big social functions, and that's a good thing too.
Talking to Sam and learning more about him was eye opening and a little bit
shocking, but it was nice to know more about where he's coming from.  And
the cherry on top was my first blowjob.

But even if all those things fall into the general category of "good," I'm
not sure what to make of it all.

Hanging out with Carter was fun, and I feel like this could be the first of
many times we do something together.  My massive puppy dog crush aside, I
had a great time with him today on a platonic level as well.  He's so good
natured and fun to be around.  So how does that aspect of our relationship
- a budding friendship - tie into all the intense romantic feelings I have
towards him?  Should I settle for one and give up the other?  Or is it
possible to pursue both?

And then there's Sam.  With him, it almost feels like the exact opposite.
Here's a guy I see as a friend, or even a mentor in a way, but there's
suddenly a new dimension to our relationship that I'm not sure I can
ignore.  I think Sam's a good kid, and I'd love to do more stuff together,
like hanging out, shooting, or playing video games.  He's been out of the
closet for a while, and I'm sure he can teach me a lot about coming out
publicly and existing as a gay kid in high school.

But then he gave me head.

So now I can't just think about Sam as that friend and possible confidant -
I suddenly instead find myself thinking about how it felt when he deep
throated me, or how he licked his lips when he was done.  What if he tries
something again, or expects me to do more?  What if he has feelings for me,
and was just trying to be coy about it when I left?  What if I have
feelings for him?

I mean, I don't.  I don't see Sam as anything but a friend.  Right?

But if he has a lot to teach me about being gay, why couldn't he also teach
me about... other stuff?  If that resource is there for me, why shouldn't I
tap into it?  It might make me more confident, and that could lead to me
being more assertive with Carter, or even with somebody else.  If I haven't
tried anything at all, how do I know what I want?

Suddenly I snap out of my stupor and realize I biked right past my turn to
get to my house.  As I wheel my bike around in the street to head back, I
start laughing to myself.  It starts as just a little smile, but by the
time I get to my driveway, I'm having a full on laugh.

It's funny, because this is exactly what I always do.  I think and think
and think.  I think about everything.  Every aspect of every situation, and
every possibility.  I think about what labels to put on what people and how
that impacts all my other thoughts, feelings, and relationships.  And then
after that, I start the whole process over until I'm looping around in
endless cycles of questions, maybes, and what-ifs.

Round and round it goes, until I can get over myself and take a step
forward.  It's exactly how it went down when I first figured out that I was
gay.  A whole lot of build up inside my head that didn't do anything but
make me feel like crap.

Katy was the first person I came out to, and I wasn't worried about coming
out to her for a second.  By the time I had searched my soul long enough to
know that I liked boys and not girls, telling Katy was a snap.  She's my
best friend, and has been for a long time - I knew that she would support
me no matter what, and I was absolutely right.  Still, it was an important
moment for me, because I needed her on my side for what I was going to do
next: Coming out to my family.

It knew it was going to be hard, but I knew all along I had to do it.
Especially since my parents split, my mom has been one of the most
important people in my life.  I depend on her for everything a kid could
ever need from his parents, and she depends on me for a lot of things that,
in a perfect world, she would have relied on my dad.

I think most parents understand this, but it took me a while to get it.
The more my mom needed me, the more I needed her, and vice versa.  In the
end, I realized how vital it was for me that my mom knew the truth.  If I
was ever going to have a hope of coming out and facing the world as a gay
man, I needed my mom to be in my corner.

But it was hard, and even with Katy's encouragement, I hid it for months.
Keeping a secret from my mom was like drinking a big cup of poison every
morning for breakfast.  I found myself randomly telling little lies and
hiding other, less important things from her, which only made me feel even
worse.  If I couldn't be honest with her, I felt like I wasn't being honest
with myself.  It had to be all or nothing.

One night, the pressure got so bad that I couldn't sleep.  I tossed and
turned in my bed for hours, alternating between punching my pillow and
crying into it.  I was angry at myself for keeping secrets, and frustrated
with my weakness.  It was too hard to tell my mom the truth, and the fear
of losing her was somehow even more sad and oppressive than all the bad
things I was feeling for keeping it in.

Finally, at exactly 3:14 in the morning, I got out of bed and walked across
our house.  It felt like the longest walk I've ever taken, even though it
was probably only fifty feet.  I had to force my legs to take every step,
because as much as I wanted it all to be over one way or another, it still
felt easier to get back into bed and feel miserable for the rest of my
life.

I remember pushing the door to her bedroom open and walking to the foot of
her bed.  There was enough light coming through the window that I could see
the blankets moving with her breath.  I don't know how long I stood there
watching her, but finally, with a herculean effort of will, I called her
name.

"Mom?"

I barely even whispered it - it was all I could muster.  Even so, I heard
the blankets rustle and move as she woke up.

"Hmm?" she responded, still half asleep.

"Mom, it's me," I said.  It's funny to think about it now, but I remember
wanting to be absolutely sure that she knew it was me before I went on.

"Jackson," she replied groggily, but more awake than before.

"Mom," I said again, trying not to break down and start crying again, "I
have to tell you something."

She stirred a little, and I could tell she opened her eyes.

"I... I'm..."

Even though I had known I was gay for a while, this was the moment when it
became real.  Sure, I had told Katy about it, but if three weeks from now I
changed my mind and took it all back, she wouldn't bat an eye.  This was
the moment from which there would be no return, and the two words I needed
to say would change my life forever.

"I'm gay."

The words rang in my ears for what seemed like an eternity as I waited for
whatever would come next.  I had jumped off the high dive into the deep
end, and now I was in slow motion, freefalling until I either hit water or
the bottom of an empty pool.

"Oh," she said.  "Ok."

Her response didn't tell me much, but at least I knew she had heard the
message and was processing it.  What would she do?  What would she say?
Would she yell at me or tell me to knock it off?  Would she cry?  Months of
confusion and frustration all boiled down to what she decided to do next..

"Is that all?"

What?!  Is that ALL?!  This is the single most life altering truth I've
ever held, and my mother is the single most important person in the world
to me.  How could she hear something so incredibly earth shattering and
dismiss it with only...

"Jackson, it's late," she said, interrupting my catastrophization.  "Why
don't you come give me a hug, and then get to bed?" she suggested.  "You
have school tomorrow."

School?  Bed?  Hugs?  This is life and death stuff I'm trying to talk
about, and all my mom can think about is how well rested I am for school
tomorrow!

And then, as I walked over to her to give her that hug she asked for, it
all made sense.  I just spilled my guts to my mom, and told her the biggest
secret I've ever kept.  For her, she's still just being my mom, worried
that I won't be able to focus in class because I wasted the whole night
trying to tell her that I'm gay.  She hugged me hard before she sent me off
to bed, and she told me that she loved me.

She didn't tell me that it was ok for me to be anything I wanted to be, and
she didn't tell me that she accepted my newfound sexuality and lifestyle.
She didn't have to.  Five seconds before I came out to her I was her eldest
son, Jackson, whom she loves very much.  Five seconds after, it was the
same.

The months of planning, worrying, and wondering - it was a complete waste
of my time and energy.  In the end, my mother didn't care one way or the
other, and even if she had, I still would have needed to walk back to my
room, lay down in my bed, and go to sleep.  I can't change the way I am,
and my mom knew that even better than I did.

And that's why I'm laughing when I open the door and step into the house.
Because I should have learned this lesson a long time ago.  Thinking in
circles is exactly what it sounds like.  It never ends, and you never get
anywhere.  Once you've started, you'll never stop unless you break the
cycle, and the only way to break the cycle of thought, is with action.
Bold, confident action.

"What's so funny?"

My mom is standing in the hallway with an apron on, looking at me with her
arms akimbo.  She has a little twinkle in her eye, which is one of my
favorite looks.  She gets it when she's happy, or even if the twins or I
are happy.  It's like she knows there's a good time happening somewhere
inside of me, and she wants in on it.

"I'm just thinking," I respond.  I already know where this is going, and
it's only making me laugh more.

"What about?" she asks.

"Boys!" I tell her as obnoxiously as possible.

She rolls her eyes, now having her own little laugh, and walks back towards
the kitchen.

Bold action.  I like the sound of that...


(To be continued...)