Date: Sat, 6 Feb 1999 21:57:31 -0500
From: Adam Fancher <adamfanc@ntplx.net>
Subject: Love at Last

Hi. I'm Adam, and this is my story. This contains male-male sex, blah,
blah, blah, bullshit about not liking it and going away... 

Love at Last 

Chapter 1

He looks into my eyes. We fall into each other's arms, into a loving
embrace, and begin to passionately french kiss. My arms run over his warm,
firm body, caressing every inch of it as I savor his hot, nimble tongue. My
hand slides down to his ass and presses it, bringing him closer to me, and
grinding our hips together...

"Now, can anyone tell me what the three major cash crops of Central America
are? Bananas, coffee, and cotton are correct! Now with the warm dry
climate...."

"I love you," I whisper in his ear. My breath is sporadic, and I am so
emotionally involved that I feel like I am about to cry. I moan deep,
pleasured moans, and he does the same. Up and down our hands run over each
other's bodies, bringing us closer and closer together. We have each
other's love, and that's all that matters...

"So if x to the third equals 52, then the value of y will be that times the
formula on the board. Understand? Good, let's move on..."

Our movements become quicker, more aggressive, our tounges are engaging in
a serious battle. Our bodies are going wild, we are rolling on the ground
now, grinding our hips harder, faster. Wanting more than even this, I tear
off both of our jeans as quickly as I can, and our erect cocks mash
together. We dry hump, one stroke after another, moaning louder and
louder. Finally, it happens. We suddenly blow our loads as we devour each
other's mouths, and lie in the grass, collapsed and tired, but still madly
in love...

(KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK) "ADAM! Have you started your homework yet?"

Yes, this is my life. A while back, someone told me that the average mind
is thinking about sex every 5-10 seconds. Then, I laughed. Now, I know it
to be quite true. This is how my everyday life runs, phasing in and out of
daydreaming.

I am 15 and very out of the closet at my high school. It is a vocational
technical school, which means a lot of homophobia, and a lot of gay
bashing. I felt it was worth it to come out though, and still do.

I suppose it's about time to tell you about "him."

Shortly after I came out, a kid with mischeif written all over him, named
Andrew, approached me and told me that a kid named John Stevens wanted to
go out with me.

Although inside I doubted it, I got excited and John, the kid without a
face became the object of my interest.

A few days later, I was talking with a kid that I get along with and feel
that I can trust. I asked him if he knew this kid named John, and I liked
what I heard.

"I've heard that that kid is gay, but I don't know whether to believe it or
not."

"Uhh, well I don't know. Like, one time, I was at his birthday party
playing truth or dare, and he was like all telling us to pull down our
pants and dance around like that."

"Really?" I said, trying to conceal my excitement.

"Yeah, his dad is gay too."

I didn't really think that that had much to do with anything, and it seemed
that if he was assuming that homosexuality ran in the family, chances were
even slimmer of it actually being true. Nonetheless, I was totally excited.

The next day, I approached Andrew at lunch and asked him to point John out
to me.

"Nah, he don't go to this school no more."

"What do you mean?"

"He got busted with drugs, he don't come here no more."

My heart sank. Later that day, I asked Andrew if he was even serious when
he said John wanted to go out with me. When he shook his head with a smirk,
I could have punched his face in.

It seemed as though my chances with John were no more.

Chapter 2

Time went on. During the course of those months, I almost had a
relationship.

Knowing that I was gay, my school psychologist called me in to help answer
some questions of a kid that was facing the issue of realizing he was gay.
It happened, and before I knew it, he was telling me how good looking I
was. He wasn't bad looking, but he wasn't good looking either. He was
pretty heavy, although not totally fat, but he had a very handsome, yet
very gentle a cute face.

His name was Mike. We decided that we were going out. The first few days
went great. We talked on the phone, said "I love you," and all that great
stuff. Then one weekend, we decided we were ready to make love.

That weekend, he came over. When we went up to my room, it was awkward as
hell. We were sitting next to each other in two chairs, rubbing each others
thighs and not saying a word. At one point, I climbed into his lap and
experienced my first ever french-kiss.

When we moved to the bed, we sucked each others' dicks. It was a first time
experience for me. We lay in bed for a while sucking and jacking each
others' cocks, then I decided I'd had enough. We laid down on the floor,
with me on top. We started to grind our hips together. This is when I felt
I was coming close, so I told him to put his hand over my mouth, to keep my
parents from hearing me moaning, and also because it turned me on.
(Recieving hand-over-mouth smothering is a little fetish of mine). He
hesitantly reached up and cupped his hand over my mouth, and after a few
seconds of moaning into his palm, I blew my load into my boxers. He never
came.

After that day, things seemed to be getting worse between us. I was told I
couldn't hang out with him and his friends anymore, because his friends
didn't like me. Then one morning, as we sat making out in the back seat of
the car on the way to school, he stopped suddenly and took out a piece of
paper. When he showed it to me, it said "I don't think I'm gay anymore."

That was pretty much the end of that, I talked to him and found that he had
"just decided" he "didn't want to be gay anymore," and there was no way of
changing his mind. Of course now he doesn't deny the fact that he's gay.

My spirits had been lifted from a 5th story window to the roof of a sky
scraper, then dropped to ground level, where it seemed they would stay.

				   ~~~~~

The holidays came and went. I had a crush on a kid in Mike's shop, which
was culinary. His name was Brien. Every day when I went to lunch, I would
watch him as he served, or put out the forks, or whatever he happened to be
doing.

Mike told me that Brien was gay, as well as another girl in culinary who
said that he'd never had a boyfriend in his life. Brien was great-looking.
He was pretty short and skinny, but with the cutest baby-face you've ever
seen, with deep, brown eyes that you couldn't help looking into.

I wrote a note to Brien, and it said that I was a gay guy that really
thought he was cute, and that I had heard from a few people that he was
gay, and wanted to hear from him myself whether or not he was.

The next day, it was put to me rather abruplty by another kid in the shop
that "that kid up there isn't a fag like you. Stop sending him notes, or
I'll bash your queer ass into the ground. Why don't you go shove your dick
up somebody else's ass."

I felt that that last comment deserved an "ass-bashing" in itself, but I
bit my tongue and stayed put. After I talked to Steve, the guitarist in my
band, who coincidentally lived across the street from Brien, it turned out
that Brien was indeed not gay, and was only effeminate because he was still
immature. (He hung out with Steve's 9 year old brother, for christ sake!)

Chances of me ever finding anyone were getting slimmer, and I was getting
more suicidal.

				   ~~~~~

Christmas was over with, winter was well underway, and the world was
covered in a cold, dark, slush of despair. My inner spark had died down,
and was about to go completely out. Then, something unexpected happened.

While I was sitting in a blueprint reading class, a kid came to my desk and
said "Hey!"

I looked up.

"Did you really ask out Andrew Couzza?"

"Rumors. Nothing but rumors. What's the joke about me asking guys out?"

"Hey, sorry, just wondering." He went back to his seat.

"Who the hell was that? I asked the kid next to me.

"That's John Stevens. The let him back into the school."


Chapter 3

For the first few weeks, John was put to the back of my mind. After all, it
had all been rumors, perhaps some sort of game that John and Andrew were
playing.

John was not bad-looking, he was actually pretty hot. I mean, I didn't
think so for a while. He had a blonde bowl cut, bright, energetic eyes, and
a beautiful mouth with straight white teeth. He wasn't bony, but he was
pretty skinny.

I didn't really start seeing him around until the next shop cycle. He was
in autmotive, one of the greasiest shops in the school. Usually you can
tell if somebody's a real slob if they still have grease on there hands
after academic cycle starts again.

It was toward the end of the shop cycle that John got the haircut. It was
shaved all around the sides and back, so that all that was left was some
short hair on top, which he spiked up. Oh man, did he ever look ten times
hotter with that haircut! When I saw it, that's when I really started to
realize how attracted I was to him.

At this point, I was in need of a boyfriend so bad that I'd masturbate 2-3
times every day, and you could probably guess that once I saw John, he was
all I ever fantasized about.

The shop cycle went by too fast. It was the first day of academics. I was
sitting at lunch with my friend Ashley, depressed as usual. Suddenly, a
blur came across the room and stopped at our table. While my eyes were
focusing, I thought, "that's one hell of an energetic kid."

When they were focused, however, they almost rolled out of their sockets.
Sitting across the table from me, not even three feet away from me, was
John. I turned bright red, and could only look at my feet.

"Hi, Ashley!," came his wonderful, almost-obnoxious voice.

Must be a friend of hers, I thought.

"Hi!"

I chanced a glance up, and he was looking right at me.

"H-Hi," I managed to stammer.

I took my first close-up look at him. The first thing I noticed was that
his hands were clean, and had cut-short fingernails. His eyes were full of
life, and his body was just calling to me to caress it.

He continued to babble on in random conversation, and I learned that he was
sixteen. I also learned that he was a bold son-of-a-bitch, from the
cheuvanist comments he kept making to Ashley, and the fact that he kept
helping himself to her lunch.

When Ashley went up to throw away her trash, she talked to Mike, who was
washing dishes. She came back to the table and told John that Mike thought
he was cute. John's eyes got about as big around as satelite dishes and he
almost spit out what he was chewing.

"That fat faggot?! Oh my god, I'm scared!!! That big, fat son of a bitch
better not ever come near me! No offense Adam, but you got bad taste."

My chances seemed to be getting slimmer yet, but there seemed to be
something about John that I couldn't quite put my finger on, maybe it was
the fact that he knew the difference between good taste and bad taste of
guys.

The next day, John came over again, and continued to be his mouthy self,
which, by the way, I thought was totally cute.

I don't remember quite how, but somehow we got into the conversation of
previous relationships, and Ashley ended up saying out loud, "You mean
Mike?"

"Shut up, Ashley!" I told her.

"Oh my god," said John, "I didn't know you were serious about being gay, I
thought you were just joking around." He was taken aback, but at the same
time seemed somewhat excited.

"Well, don't worry about it. It's cool. My dad's like that too."

It was true! One of those rumors was actually true! Could the other one
possibly be too?

When John went up to throw away his trash, Ashley asked, "Do you think
John's hot?"

I nodded my head virgorously. "Oh my god! I have to tell him!"

"No! Don't! PLEASE don't! Oh my god..." She was still insisting that she
tell him when he sat back down.

Sensing something was up, he said, "No, that's alright! I DON'T want to
know!"

"No, John, listen!"

She went to whisper in his ear, and he sang out "DESSSSSPERADO,
DESSSSSSSPERADO!!!"

"No, John, listen!"

After a few more times of this, Ashley got fed up and clapped her hand over
his mouth. As soon as she did this, I began to shout "LA LA LA LA LAAAAA!"
Ashley reached her other hand across the table and forcefully covered my
mouth as well.

"I promise I'll listen," John mumbled into Ashley's hand. She took her hand
away, and cupped it around John's ear so she could whisper it to him. Just
as I was about to pull away, Ashley's friend Amanda planted both of her
hands on top of Ashley's, keeping me from making a sound or even moving. As
I struggled in vain to get free, I overheard the whispered words "thinks
you're cute" and "hot."

When the hands came away from my face, I buried it in my own hands. I
thought I was going to cry. "Ashley, you bitch!" I said, waiting for John
to flip out.

"Adam," he said, "It's cool man. Don't worry about it. I still think you're
a cool guy, and we're still friends."

If only I knew the significance of what he just said.


Keep coming back, there's more to come as my relationship with
John progresses (hopefully). If you have any comments on my story,
feel free to e-mail me at adamfanc@ntplx.net