Date: Fri, 12 Dec 2014 23:24:03 -0500
From: Roe St. Alee <roesaintalee@hotmail.com>
Subject: How I Got Carter Part 9

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 are purely 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!

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

Ok, maybe it wasn't as easy as I tried to make it sound.

Bold action.

In my head on Thursday night it sounded so simple.  Pull myself out of my
thoughts, brush my fears aside, grab life by the throat, and bend it to my
will.  No problem.

But real life is never as simple as a decision.  I can adjust my mentality
all I want, but the situation is way more complicated than that.

I'm in love with a straight boy.

There's probably no chance that he'll ever feel the same way about me.
Even if he was gay, he's probably still out of my league, considering he's
the hottest, coolest guy I've ever laid eyes on.  Beyond that, there's the
hundreds or even thousands of other reasons it will never work between me
and Carter.  As Sam told me yesterday after soccer practice, I'm "totally
doomed."

But I'm fine with that, remember?  There's no reason to worry about all
that nonsense every second of the day, because life doesn't run on wishes,
dreams, and thoughts, it runs on bold action.

But even with my new and improved attitude, the weekend comes and goes
without any progress.  Another week starts at school, as as of yet I have
not been able to take any sort of action at all, bold or otherwise.

I mean, I had to watch my little brother and sister on Saturday, then I
hung out with Katy on Sunday before helping my mom do some chores in the
afternoon.  Plus homework, a paper I need to write for English class, and a
group project for history.  Who has time to take bold action when there's
so much other stuff to do?  At this rate, I'll be single the rest of my
life, but I'll have a very tidy house and and high honors on my high school
diploma.

That being said, things are going pretty well.

My relationship with Sam is surprisingly not awkward at all.  I was worried
for the first couple days after it happened, but I haven't gotten any bad
vibes from him.  It's almost like sex is a hobby for him, and he was just
showing me what he likes to do in his spare time.  I just keep telling
myself: It's only weird if I make it weird.  As far as Sam and I go, things
haven't changed a bit.

If anything's changed, it's how I feel about sex.  I liked it.  Hell, I
liked it a lot, and I want more.  While my desire isn't quite as
indiscriminate as Sam's might be, I'd do just about anything to try some
things out with Carter.  Handjobs, blowjobs - you name it.  Then, I'd like
to try them again, just to be sure.

But alas, I am in fact "doomed."  Falling for a straight boy...

It was never a good idea, but every time I look at Carter, I get the
feeling that it was inevitable.  From the top of his head to the tips of
his toes, Carter is everything I've ever wanted and so much more.  I want
to talk to him, look at him, think about him, grab him, kiss him, fuck him
- anything and everything.

And that's exactly what I'm doing right now.  Looking at him, I mean.  I
should probably be taking notes or offering to help, but instead I'm just
watching Carter drip sodium hydroxide into an unknown compound that we need
to identify.  I'm watching the intense concentration in his face as he
furrows his brow and slowly curls his bottom lip up into his mouth and
bites on it.  That's his concentration face, and no matter how many times I
see it I don't think I'll ever get tired of it.

"What?"

Oops.  Busted.

Looks like Carter caught me staring.  Which means he either thinks I'm a
creeper or, even worse, that I'm not pulling my weight on this lab.

"What?" he asks again, starting up that little half smile of his that makes
me think he's just making fun of me.  "Seriously, Jackson, if you're just
gonna sit there and stare at me the whole time, I don't think I'll be able
to concentrate.

I can tell my cheeks are getting red.  This keeps happening.  I do
something weird and now I have to try and wriggle my way out of Carter
thinking I'm some kind of lunatic.  He just throws me off being all cool
and handsome all the time.

"Sorry," I finally reply, trying to defuse the embarrassing situation if I
can.  "You had a funny look on your face."

"Funny?"  He furrows his brow and looks at me skeptically.  "What kind of
funny look?"

Again, I'm at a loss.  Sometimes I think it would just be easier to spill
my guts and be done with it, instead of having to play these games with
myself every time Carter so much as breathes.  But of course here I am,
stuck once again in a situation where...

BZZZZT!  BZZZZT!  BZZZZT!

Are you kidding me?  A fire drill?  In the middle of lab?!

As much as I'm glad to have successfully evaded admitting to Carter that I
stare at him because he's the most beautiful person I can imagine, I am not
at all pleased about delaying our lab work.

I look around the room and see that no one else has gotten up from their
stations to exit the building.  We're all looking expectantly to the front
of the room waiting for instructions from Nizen.  This lab has been a
serious pain, and I'm not sure about the rest of the class, but I'd rather
take my chances with the Fire Marshall than have to redo it.

Nizen looks at all of us, and from his pained expression I'd gather he
understands our plight only too well.  He looks up at the blaring fire
alarm, then back at us.  He repeats the process several times, but it has
no effect on the alarm.  Finally he throws his hands in the air.

"Everybody out!" he declares, defeated.  "Make sure you don't leave any
dangerous chemicals where they could actually cause some real danger to
occur.  Once your station is secure, let's head out to the parking lot."

A collective moan goes up from the class as we close all our containers and
shut down our lab tables.  We're almost halfway done with the lab period,
and at this rate we'll have to work twice as fast when we get back if we
have any hope of finishing at all.

After we waste about twenty minutes being counted, even that tiny flicker
of hope has fizzled out into nothingness.  We trudge back into the school
and classroom like a funeral procession.  Instead of returning to our
stations or sitting at our desks, we all just sort of loiter around the
room waiting for Nizen to return and decide our fate.

"I won't make you redo or finish the lab," he declares as he enters the
room, eliciting a little cry of joy from most of the class.  "However", he
says, "I need something to evaluate and put in the grade book."  So far, I
don't like the sound of this.  "I've decided that as your homework, you and
your lab partner can fabricate the results of what you didn't finish, and
then write a lab report with your best guesses of how the experiment would
have gone had you finished it."

A collective groan goes up from the class.  That sounds like a lot of work.

"Don't look at me like that!" Nizen warns us.  "Pouting will get you
nowhere!"  That would be a good family motto for the Nizen clan.

"If you're a good scientist, you should know exactly what you're getting
yourself into before you even sit down to run an experiment.  Your
hypothesis should almost always be right.  In this case, let's just assume
that it is.

"You all have phones and emails and Facebook, and I'm sure you have no
trouble socializing with your friends after school is done.  Let's put that
technology to good use and collaborate on tonight's homework."

His explanation, as much as it pains me to admit it, makes sense.  But that
does very little to stem the negativity most of the class is feeling
towards our new assignment.

I say most of the class, because it doesn't actually sound too bad to me.
Collaborating with the one and only Carter Mulkins outside of class?  You
don't have to twist my arm.

I turn happily back to Carter but he's not returning anything close to my
look of joy.  He looks, quite frankly, disturbed.  Now it's my turn to ask
the questions.

"What?"

"I'm not going to be here tomorrow..." Carter says nervously, as though I
might be upset with him.

"What do you mean you're not going to be here tomorrow?" I ask.

Tomorrow, if I'm not mistaken, is Thursday, which is a school day, which
involves coming here, regardless of whether Carter meant this specific
class or the school in general.

"I have a dentist's appointment, and then we have to travel for a football
scrimmage."

Football travel.  Usually that means missing a period or two at the end of
the day, which means Carter won't be coming to chemistry tomorrow.  The
dentist means missing some time in the morning, which is when we have study
hall together and would ordinarily do something like this.

Long story short, I don't know when the heck we're going to get this thing
done.

I shrug my shoulders and try to look helpless.  Hopefully Carter has an
idea, because I sure don't.

"Are you free tonight?"

How ironic is that?  These are words I've been waiting and dreaming I would
one day hear Carter say to me.  This isn't exactly the context I was hoping
for, but I'll take it.

"Yeah, soccer ends at about five, and then I don't have to be home for
dinner until about eight," I respond.  "What do you have in mind?"

"We usually get off from practice at the same time," he says, "so I can
give you a ride back to my house and we can work on it after that."

"Yeah," I say, "that should work."  Mom works late tonight and I don't have
to be back at the house until eight.  That should give us plenty of time to
get the lab done, and then she can pick me up on her way home.

"Seriously, that's not too much trouble?"

I shake my head emphatically.  But not too emphatically.  Enough to let
Carter know that it's not too much trouble, but not enough to let him know
I'd like to rip his clothes off and explore his body with my tongue.

"Cool!  Just meet me after practice and we can catch a ride to my place
with one of the older guys on the team."

"Works for me," I reply.

Just as the bell rings, Carter throws me one of his best, most awesome,
genuine smiles.  Thankfully, I'm leaning against a desk, because I half
swoon when I see it.  This boy, his smile, his... everything!  It's perfect
and I want every bit of it.

Soccer practice is about two hours long.  That's completely normal.  Soccer
practice is almost always about two hours long.  Usually, unless it's
conditioning day, that time just flies by.  Today, however, the seconds
could not tick more slowly.  It seems like every time I look up at the
clock on the scoreboard, about ten seconds have gone by.

But even at that rate, enough time does eventually pass that practice comes
to a close and we head into the locker room to get showered and changed.  I
do it as fast as I can, and after a quick word with Sam about this or that,
I practically run out the door.

Carter told me to just hang out in front of the school at the pick up and
drop off area until he comes out.  One of his teammates is supposed to give
us a ride back to Carter's place.  .  Wow.  It's hard to believe.  The
belly of the beast!  As soon as he gets in from practice and is ready to
go, I'm heading to Carter's house!

I wonder what it will be like.  To be honest, I'm not even sure where it
is.  I feel like there's some people who have people over to their house
all the time, and then there are people who don't.  I guess I'm one of the
latter, and Carter might be too.  For me it's just that there isn't much to
do.  I spend most of my free time at Koichi's house, so I've never really
invested in anything exciting to do at my own.

Maybe Carter's the same way.  I know he hangs out a lot with a few guys
from the football team, so there's a good chance he doesn't have a lot of
video games or anything like that.  Or maybe his parents, who I've heard
are pretty wealthy, have one of those houses where everything is expensive
and no one is allowed to touch anything or even go into some of the rooms.
I've never understood those sorts of people, but who knows?

"Hey, asshole!"

My train of thought is derailed as two hands push hard straight into the
middle of my back.  I turn around in a huff to see who's trying to beat me
up.  My anger and surprise become laughter in an instant once I see who it
is.

"What's up, Ko?"

"I don't know man," he answers.  "I don't feel like I even see you enough
to know what's up."

Oh, dang.  He's kinda right about that.  I've been hanging out with Sam a
bit more, and Koichi and bit less lately.  School has been super busy, so I
haven't even had much time to talk or fool around with him in study hall.

"Sorry, dude," I say somewhat lamely.  "I'm been really busy with school
and..."

"Your new friends?"

Ouch.  That stings a little bit, but I guess I deserve it.  So much of my
time and energy has been going towards Carter, I need to make sure I don't
forget about my other friends.

Luckily, before I have to apologize, make excuses, or explain myself,
Koichi punches me in the shoulder and laughs.

"Don't look so freaked out," he says, "I'm just giving you the business.  I
know you've been busy with everything, and you're allowed to have other
friends besides me.  But I need to be honest, Jackson."  His face turns
grave for a second before he continues.  "I got some new games for us to
play, and they are not going to beat themselves."

We make plans to hang out over the coming weekend and Ko walks away towards
the student parking lot.  A lot of exciting things have been happening for
me lately, and I need to remember the people who have my back no matter
what.  Koichi's a good friend.  In fact, so good that I don't think he even
could be mad at me, pretty much no matter what I did.  But still, that
doesn't mean I need to tempt it.

After a few more minutes to wait and think, a red SUV pulls up to the
sidewalk.  As the rear window rolls down, I see Carter's beautiful face pop
out.

"Need a ride?" he ask, beaming.

I hop in the back and say hi to Luke, the driver, and Robert, his
passenger.  They're both seniors and best friends.  They're on the swim
team, so I know them to some extent, but Carter plays football with Robert.

The ten minutes or so we spend riding to Carter's house, all we talk about
is girls.  While the topic of dating females doesn't appeal to me as much
as I'm sure it does to them, I'm still interested.  On one hand, I'm always
intrigued by what Carter might have to say on the subject, and on the other
- I won't lie, I just like to gossip.

After ten minutes or so of discussing the merits of having steady
girlfriends versus trying to engage in as many casual flings as possible,
we arrive at Carter's house.

Carter's house is big.

I guess knew it would be, at least as of a few minutes ago when I noticed
what part of town we were getting into.  All the houses here are big.  But
it's one thing to drive by on my way to someplace else, and another to be
standing in front of a huge ass house.  It makes me feel tiny.

I haven't talked to Carter too much about what his parents do for a living,
but I'd heard that his dad was some kind of wealthy businessman - a banker
or something like that.  Apparently, business is going very well, because
this house is right on the border of what I might call a mansion.

Carter punches a code at the front door and it opens.  Apparently wealthy
folks don't use keys.

"Come on in!" he says, waving me into his house.

I reply with something in between a "thanks" and a "woah," as I step into
an expansive and well-decorated entryway.  Rich people are something else.
They have rooms for entering the house.  A specific room, just for coming
and going!  Crazy.  My house dumps you straight into the living room as
soon as you step in the door.

We head through the dining room and kitchen, reaching a door that leads
down into the basement.  Before I follow Carter down the stairs I'm
distracted by a TV, which is blaring in the next room over.  From here I
can see the back of a curly head watching from the couch.  I'm about to ask
Carter if that's his mom, but he calls back up the stairs before I get the
chance.

"You coming?" he asks.

"Yeah!" I respond, as I clamber down to the basement.

That's kind of weird.  If I had someone over to my house, I would
definitely have them meet my mom if she was home.  That being said, at my
house it would be hard to avoid bumping into her on the way through our
tiny little living room, whereas at Carter's there are probably several
different routes we could have taken on our way to the basement door, all
of which would not disturb her TV time.

I immediately forget whatever I was thinking about, because Carter's
basement is awesome.

It's basically the coolest thing I can imagine.  There's a foosball table,
some workout equipment, a big stereo, a computer, and a bunch of other toys
and games scattered around.  The crown jewel of the room, however, is the
massive flat screen TV against the far wall, stocked with what looks like
an Xbox and a Playstation, and tons of games and movies on the shelves
behind it.

"Dude..." I say, half to myself, taking it all in.

"Yeah, it's pretty cool," Carter says, almost half-heartedly.

"Pretty cool?" I say incredulously, "This place is awesome!  Look at all
this stuff!"

Carter simply shrugs.  Maybe he's just used to it.  If this was my house, I
don't think I'd ever go outside again.

"I guess it doesn't matter," I sigh, "because we have a lab report to
write."

That gets a smile out of him.  "You're totally right," he replies.  "And
there's no fun until that's over," he says in his best impression of Nizen.

If I had a dollar for everytime I made Carter smile, I wouldn't even care
about the money because that shit is priceless.

"Carter!"

We hear a faint but urgent sounding call from up the stairs.  A female
voice, I assume it's his mother.  When I look back at him, the smile is
gone from his face.

"Hang on a sec," he says getting up and heading towards the stairs.  "I
need to see what she wants."

I flash him a thumbs up and watch him run up to the first floor.  With
every step his gym shorts cling to his butt a little bit and show off some
of its shape.  If I ever forget how incredibly beautiful Carter is, it
usually only takes a minute or two for him to do something that reminds me.
Damn.

Well, I guess I have a few minutes to myself in Carter's room.  My plan is
of course to get started on our lab report while I wait, but I decide to
check my email before I start.  I pick up my phone, but I don't have any
signal.  Of course - the basement.  I bet this electronic palace has wifi,
but I don't know the password.

It's one of those things.  I'm not expecting any important emails, but now
that the idea is in my head to check it, I'm not going to be able to think
of anything else until I do it.  I decide to log on the old fashioned way
using Carter's computer.

I open up the browser and go onto to my email.  Junk, junk, spam, junk,
spam, crap.  That's it for today.  I'm about to close the window when it
hits me.  I'm on Carter's computer...

If you're judging me right now, don't even start!  This isn't some
classmate of mine that I'm lurking on just to be a jerk or anything like
that.  This is Carter-Fucking-Mulkins.  This is the boy I've had a crush on
for ages, and I'm in his room, and I'm alone with his computer.  Yes, my
intentions are absolutely one hundred percent selfish.  But there's no
negativity, hurt, or hatred fueling me as I poke around through his browser
history.  It's all about love.

So in short, yes, I decide to snoop around on Carter's PC.  I check his
browser history, but there isn't anything too exciting, at least not in the
few days.  Football scores, plenty of Wikipedia (we had a history paper due
a few days ago), and then typical email and Facebook stuff.  Hmph.  I
quickly scroll through the last couple of weeks, but nothing looks too
interesting...

Wait, what was that?

I look a little closer at some items.  It's Google search history, so I
guess my eyes just skimmed over it at first, but something caught my
attention.  Now what was it?

There!  The word "blowjob!"

I click on the link and open the page.  Holy shit!

It's search results for "guys girls who gives better blowjobs."  I guess
Sam's conversation last Thursday had quite an impact on Carter!

I won't lie, I was wondering about the exact same thing, but I hadn't
thought to look it up online.  Props to Carter for thinking outside the
box.  I figure I won't get head from a girl at any point in my life, so the
thought doesn't intrigue me that much.  I do, however, find it much more
interesting that the seed of doubt has been planted in the mind of one
Carter Mulkins.

It looks like he searched a bunch of different times with different
phrases, and a few of the websites he wound up going to are pretty crazy,
with pictures and videos and everything.  I wonder if he watched any videos
of guys blowing each other...

Before I can jump any further down this rabbit hole, I hear the basement
door open and I quickly close all of the windows and open my chemistry book
as though I was getting work done this whole time.  I try not to look
guilty, and my ruse must work, because Carter doesn't notice anything out
of the ordinary.

We work for about an hour on our lab, and besides the constant distraction
of thinking about Carter looking up blowjobs on the internet, before too
long we have the thing more or less finished.  We have one section that we
aren't sure about, but I'll ask Nizen during studyhall, and then we'll
touch base before we turn it in.

I check the time.  It's only 6:45.  I have at least an hour before my mom
comes to pick me up.

"So, what do you want to do?" Carter asks.

"Explore our sexualities together," I think to myself.  "You want to play
something?" I actually ask out loud, nodding towards the TV.  I'm glad I
didn't get the two mixed up.

We settle on the new Call of Duty.  I've played it with Koichi a bunch of
times, so it should be a fair fight.

Playing on the huge TV is amazing.  Either of our split screens is easily
twice as big as the TV we play on at Ko's house.  I know that what someone
owns doesn't make up for them being a bad person, but this is different.
Carter is the boy of my dreams, through and through.  Now that I know he
lives in a mansion with a kick ass video game setup, I don't see anything
wrong with finding him that much more attractive.  It's like he got cranked
up from an eleven to and eleven and a half.

Skill wise, Carter isn't bad.  He might be a little bit better than me at
playing the game, but I'm a lot craftier, and can throw all different
strategies at him.  Koichi is insanely good at video games, and while I
can't pull off half the stuff he can, he's helped me get a lot better at
strategy.

After a few games to warm up, we have a sort of mini tournament between the
two of us.  For almost an hour we're enraptured in the game, with the score
going back and forth.  Finally, I manage to beat him a few times in a row
and get a sizable lead.

"Ok!" Carter says, throwing the controller down on the couch between us.
"I submit.  You're better than me at Call of Duty."

"And archery," I add, trying to rub a little salt in the wound.  Maybe it
sounds mean, but I really like winding Carter up.  Feeling the way I do
about him, he has the upperhand every time we see each other, whether he
knows it or not.  It's always nice to have something to hold over his head,
even if it's just a little thing.

"Of course you would bring that up, too," says Carter, shooting me a dirty
look.  He's so cute when he's on the defensive.

"I'm just teasing you," I concede.  "You almost had me the other day.
Maybe next time."

Carter's eyes light up at the mention of a next time.

"You think we can shoot again sometime?" he asks.

"Yeah, probably.  I'll ask Sam after practice tomorrow."

"Cool."

This is a perfect segway into what I really want to talk about with Carter.
From what I saw on his computer, it's obvious that Sam's exploits have been
on his mind.  The more Carter thinks about boy on boy blowjobs, the better,
in my opinion.

"Maybe Sam will have some more crazy stories to tell us, too."  I say it
casually, as though I'm not just trying to bait him into a conversation.
My "bold action" thinking over the last few days has paid off.  A week ago,
I don't know if I would have had the guts to say something like that, but
with a little mental push, the words come right out.

"Yeah, that's for sure," he says, chuckling.  "Did you know any of that
stuff?," he asks, slightly more seriously.  "About him getting kicked out
of Segman, I mean?"

I shake my head.  "No," I answer truthfully.  "I mean, I knew he had gotten
kicked out, but I didn't know why."  Carter still looks quizzical, so I
continue.  "I knew he was gay, I guess, but I didn't know about
the... blowjobs or whatever."

"Can you believe that?  A bunch of guys letting him suck their dicks all
the time?"  Now it's Carter's turn to shake his head.  "It's hard to
believe.  But then again, it feels awesome, so in a way it's not that
surprising."

"I guess I wouldn't know."  I try to sound innocent and slightly
embarrassed about it, as though Sam didn't give me head a week ago.  At
this point I know exactly how it feels - amazing.

"Oh yeah," Sam says, giving me one of his cutest sheepish grins.  "Sorry."

I laugh.  He's apologizing for me not ever having gotten a blowjob.  That's
pretty funny, in an absurd kind of way.

"It's not your fault," I assure him, which gets him laughing too.  "Unless
you were scheduled to give me head and missed the appointment, but I don't
remember anything like that..."

Carter laughs, which is good.  I said it as a joke, obviously, but that
doesn't mean there wasn't some tiny part of me that wished it was the
truth.

"Have you gotten a lot?" I ask tentatively.

"Not too many," he answers.  "Just from Beth.  I don't think she likes
doing it, so it hasn't been very often."

Beth, obviously, is Carter's girlfriend.  She's a senior, and is exactly
what you'd expect for an adonis like Carter.  Pretty, smart, athletic,
perky, perfect, and so on.  I can't imagine Carter dating anything less
than that.  I don't actually have anything bad to say about her, except
maybe the fact that she doesn't want to put Carter's dick in her mouth more
often.  That's a red flag if you ask me, and Carter should probably look
for somebody else...

"So, was it good?" I ask.  Part of me is just baiting Carter to talk more
on the topic, but I'm also a little bit curious to hear how a high school
girl stacks up.

"Yeah, they feel good, if that's what you're asking."  Carter shrugs.  "I
mean, as far as Beth goes, I guess she did a good job, but..." Carter
trails off.  What's he getting at?

"But what?" I ask.

"I dunno," he says.  If it was lighter in the basement, I think I'd see
some color creeping into Carter's cheeks.  "Hearing Sam talk about it, I'm
not sure if Beth's were good or not.  Don't get me wrong, they felt great,
but Sam made it seem like there might be this whole other level out there."

"You mean, like, from a dude?"  Is it too hopeful to ask that?

"No," Carter says, somewhat definitively.  Oops.  Maybe I did go a little
too far.

"Well," he concedes on second thought, "yeah, maybe.  I mean, whoever it
is, just like..." He can't quite seem to find the words.  "Somebody who
really knows what they're doing."

"Oh," I say, as though I totally get what he means and neither think nor
hope that he might be gay.  "I get what you mean.  You've only ever done it
with one person, so..."

"I don't have anything to compare it to," he finishes.  "Like if someone
gave you a blowjob right now, you'd think it was the best blowjob you've
ever gotten, because as far as you know, it is."

"Yeah," I concur as my mind drifts away to the thought of someone giving me
a blowjob right now.  Someone very close to me...

It's times like these I wish I had the confidence that Sam has.  At this
point, I'm guessing he would rip Carter's pants off and show him a thing or
two with his mouth.  Unfortunately, I'm not quite at that level. I've never
given anyone oral before, and I would not only forever ruin my chances with
Carter if I gave him a sub-Beth blowjob, but I would also shame the entire
race of gay men with my ineptitude.  I can't perform under that sort of
pressure.

Shit.  So much for bold action.

"Man," Carter says, grabbing at the bulge in his shorts, "all this talk
about blowjobs is getting me kind of worked up."

Carter's definitely right about that.  The mere utterance of the word
"blowjob" is enough to get any healthy teenage boy "worked up."  I was
getting a little hot and bothered myself, but the instant Carter grabs at
his crotch, I'm more or less fully hard.  Thankfully I'm wearing briefs, so
it's hard to tell.

"Yeah," I respond with more honesty than Carter probably realizes.  "Me
too."

Carter's eyes flick back and forth mischievously.

"Do you ever watch porn?" he asks.

I nod in affirmation.  I'm being honest, but I would probably say or do
anything to keep Carter moving forward at this point.

"Well, my parents never really come down here.  Like, ever." Carter says.

I like where this is going.

"Well, there's one pretty awesome thing about that."  He goes over to his
computer and works the mouse for a minute.  He comes back to the couch and
turns on the TV.

The TV comes on, and I am met with the largest display of pornography I've
ever seen.  Obviously I'm stoked beyond anything that I'm watching porn
with Carter in his basement right now, but more than that, I'm simply in
awe.  Forget my 15 inch laptop monitor.  Forget Koichi's 27 inch dual
screens.  This is how porn was meant to be seen.

"Cool," I mutter, legitimately in awe.  Short of the real thing, this is
every boy's fantasy.

We watch the porn for a minute or two, and I'm struck once again by how big
of an opportunity this is.  I'm alone with Carter in his basement, both of
us are horny, and we're watching porn together at his suggestion.  Again,
if Sam was here, he'd be laughing at me.  When he wasn't blowing Carter,
that is.

You know, I may not have even a tenth of Sam's confidence in these
situations, but maybe I can conjure up just enough to pull this off.  I
swore to myself that I would take bold action when I need it, and that I
wouldn't let a moment like this slip through my fingers.  So, while I can't
come right out and say what it is that I want right now, I can at least
make a bit of a suggestion.

"Man, I could definitely jack off right now."  I give my bulge a plainly
visible squeeze for effect.  "Oh well," I continue, "I'm be home in a few
minutes..."

It seems to work, because Carter's eyes follow the movement down to my
crotch and then back up to my face.  His mischievous smile returns, even
bigger this time.

"Do you want to?"

"Uhhh..."

I know, I'm not always the most articulate in these situations.  I think I
used up all my spunk with my initial comment.  At the actual possibility of
this happening, I've returned to my normal, hopeless-around-Carter self.

"I mean, I get to do this all the time," he says, nodding his head towards
the fifteen square feet of porn on the wall to my right, "but it might be
cool for you to try it, too."

I finally compose myself enough to stammer out an "Ok, sure."  Carter hands
me a couple tissues and sits down on his end of the couch.  I take my seat
at the opposite end.  I guess we're both just going to sit here and jerk
it?

I try to be discrete and not look over at Carter while I get situated, but
it's tempting.  On one hand, part of me thinks this might just be some
weird joke, and I want to let him make the first move.  On the other hand,
I want to see every square inch of Carter's body, especially if he's hard
and jacking off.

Eventually, out of the corner of my eye, I see Carter slide his pants down
and make the familiar motion of stroking his dick.  It's seriously
happening!

When I follow suit, my penis springs up and slaps against my stomach.  I'm
not sure about Carter, but I'm as hard as a rock right now.  Four feet away
from me on the couch is the boy of my dreams, and he's pulling out his
dick.

The porn we're watching is actually not too bad.  Neither of the actors are
too porny, and they're both young and good looking.  Girls don't gross me
out or anything like that.  Sexy people are sexy, whether they're guys or
girls, and watching a hot, muscular dude go to town on a hot, fit female is
not going to turn me off.  Yes, two dudes would be better, but I'm not
about to suggest it.

The whole time, I want so badly to turn and look at Carter.  I've seen him
naked in the locker room before, but that's different.  A naked body
doesn't have any implication.  It's just a body.  Right now, Carter is
hard, watching porn, and jerking off.  His body is screaming sex, and it's
taking every shred of willpower that I have to keep facing the screen and
settle for watching the movement of his hand up and down in the very corner
of my peripheral vision.

It's only a couple of minutes before I can tell that Carter's getting
close, because he's moving his hand faster.  That turns me on, of course.
But what really starts pushing me over the edge is the tiny moan I hear
come out the back of his throat.  It's barely audible, but that tiny sound
invades my imagination and makes it start running wild.

Imagine Carter moaning above me as I suck him off.  Imagine that same sound
in my ear as we fuck.  It takes me from "aroused" to "brink of cumming" in
about half a second.

I hear another noise from Carter and I can't help it anymore.  I turn to
look at him just as he throws his head back in orgasm.  His eyes are closed
tight as he bucks his hips into his hands and empties his load into a wad
of tissues.  It's almost better that I can't see his dick underneath it
all.  It makes me focus on his face and his body in general, writhing
around in ecstasy as he cums in the soft light of the TV.  His expression
is hot beyond any description.

Watching Carter cum puts me over the edge in a heartbeat, and I blast my
jizz into my own tissues.  I'm still cumming when I see Carter's eyes start
to open and I turn back towards the screen.  I close my eyes and reimagine
the way he looked a few seconds ago, helpless under the thrall of his
orgasm.  God, if only I could burn that image into my head forever.

For a perfect couple of seconds, I bask in the afterglow of our first
mutual orgasm.  Yes, we were separated by the length of a large, leather
couch, but we came together, and that felt really good.  Intimate and
personal in a way - nothing like sex, obviously - but still not something
you would do with just anybody, right?

As my glow fades out, however, I suddenly realize how incredibly awkward
this is.  I'm sitting on the couch with Carter, cum-soaked tissue in one
hand and - quite literally - my dick in the other.

Somehow this hadn't occurred to me until right this second.  While we were
jerking off, I didn't think anything of it.  Carter was focused on the porn
up on the screen, and I was focused on the fact that Carter was rubbing his
dick a few feet away.  When your penis is calling the shots, you don't
worry about how weird it all might be five minutes from now.

Paralyzed by fear, I'm not sure whether I should say something, do
something, or maybe just wait until Carter makes the first move.  I can
only pretend to relish an orgasm for so long before it will become obvious
that I don't know what to do.  Maybe I could just sigh loudly and
contentedly, and that would count as progressing the situation, and then it
would be Carter's turn to so something.

Is sex always this awkward?

I'm leaning toward jumping over the back of the couch, running up the
stairs, and pretending none of this ever happened, when the whole awkward
situation is suddenly defused.

Strange as it sounds, it's actually my mom who saves the day.

Bzzzt.  Bzzzt.

My phone vibrates twice with the sound of a text message.  The second I
grab my phone, everything starts back into motion.  I read a text that says
she's waiting outside to pick me up, and Carter gets up and grabs a trash
can for us to dispose of our towels.  Life has resumed, and we don't have
to talk what just happened, at least not right now.

"That's my mom," I say, gathering up my books and tossing them in my bag.

I pat down my pockets; I have my keys, my phone, and my wallet, so I'm
ready to go.  I'm most of the way up the stairs when Carter calls up to me.

"Hey, Jackson!"

I look down and just see him backlit by the lights in the basement, so I
can't make out his face.

"Don't..."

I laugh.  Like I'm going to walk around school talking about this.  I'm
gay, but I'm not an idiot.

"Of course."

"Cool."  I can't see him, but I can hear the smile in his voice.  "I'll see
you tomorrow, Jackson."

To be continued...