Date: Sun, 18 May 2003 20:14:08 -0500
From: Madd Hatter Pimp
Subject: Obsessive Infactuation: Chapter 1

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The following story is based upon the fantasies of a deppressive teenage boy
obsessed with his friend Brian. Names are not made up, nor are appearances of
characters. Events are, for the most part, also completly fictional.

Please read my other series, momentarily at a halt, Locker Room Teens, in the
Athletics section of nifty.org

All normal disclaimers apply.
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The teenage boy with short black hair sat on the twin sized bed with his
friend, Zach. His name was Brian. Each boy sat with their legs dangling over
the end of the bed that faced the little open space of the small bedroom in
Zach's nicely furnished trailer. Brian was wearing loose, light blue jeans
and a black t-shirt with the word "FINCH" accross the top with a roughly
drawn angel beneath. Zach wore elephant pants that were huge at the bottom,
and a button up black shirt with a longsleeve fishnet shirt underneath.
Zach's red hair shifted and moved slightly as the rush of air coming from the
small turning fan blew cool air into the room, and he offered Brian some
solace to the silence of the house with a gentle smile. Slowly he moved his
hand to Brian's and took his friends hand in his own, during which each of
them were leaning in closer and closer until their lips locked into a
passionate kiss that was filled with loving emotion. Their lips were soft
against each others and slowly Zach slid his tongue into
Brian's open mouth. With their tongues interlocked, fluids were exchanged,
and Brians hand inched its way onto Zach's knee.

*Beep Beep Beep* The Alarm buzzed and rang, waking Zach from his wonderful
dream. It wasn't so odd a dream for someone so in love, but if it were up to
him, Zach would have rather stayed in his dream than return to the cold
wasteland that was better known as reality. It was still dark out, though if
anybody had been watching, with their eyes adjusted to the darkness, they
would have still been able to see the single tear fall from the inner corner
of the 15 year old's eye and roll down his cheek until the last bit was
absorbed into his pale skin. Zach let out a sigh and threw the light blue
sheet he had covered up with the previous night off of him and to the side of
his bed, against the wall. He lay there for a few minutes and looked down his
body until his hazel eyes fell upon the white, with vertical blue stripes,
boxers that covered his lower regions. Even before his eyes adjusted to the
dim light coming from the hall light, which had carelessly been left on the
night before, he could half see the hard cock that lay situated between his
spread legs. He closed his eyes and let his head roll to the side as he
reached with his right hand down to the fly of his boxers. As his fingers
slid inside they found the prize they were so anxious to recieve. He grasped
his member and pulled it from it's fabric prison. The teen male began to
slowly stroke his penis as he had done so many times before, running his
closed hand up and down the entire length of 6 1/2 inches of warm flesh.
After a minute or so of this careful stroking Zach brought his other hand to
the waistband of his boxers and pushed them down until he was able to use his
free hand to massage his firm scrotum. It took less than 5 minutes for the
dual motion of his stroking and massaging to send him over the edge, spewing
cum all over his bedsheets beneath him.

Zach sat up and put his legs on the edge of his bed, letting them touch the
light brown carpet of his floor. He flopped onto his back, legs still over
the edge of his bed, and landed softly on the feather body pillow, long and
blue, matching his bed sheets and blanket. He let out a deppressive sigh and
sat back up quickly, looking around for something to wipe up with. Finally he
decided on using a sock on the floor, laying lifelessly on the floor as if
begging for attention and to be used. After he wiped up the cum on his bed,
which had mostly been absorbed into the blue fabric, he wiped up his hand and
cock, wiping everything off before tossing the sock into the basket of dirty
clothes in the corner near the end of his bed. Zach stood up and stretched,
yawning for the first time. He looked at his alarm clock, "Still only 6:30.."
he thought to himself. He walked to his dresser, not even bothering to turn
on the light, and began to rumage through his drawers for a clean pair of
pants. He found some, dark blue jeans with the back ankles cut up to make
them bigger around the bottom, and tossed them on the end of his bed. He also
took out a pair of socks and clean boxers, red plaid, his favorite, and sat
them with the pants he had taken out just moments earlier. He looked through
the many shirts hanging from wire hangers, the majority black with some logo
or another on it. After choosing on a shirt that red "I have gone to look for
myself, if I come back before I return, keep me here" and picked up his first
pile of fresh clothes. Zach walked to the next room in the narrow hallway,
covering his eyes with the shirt to block from the bright light he had left
on the other night. When he was in the bathroom he turned the light on,
though it seemed dimmer than the hall light and he didn't have the need to
shield his eyes. He set the clothes on the counter and pulled down the boxers
he was wearing, throwing them into the dirty clothes hamper next to the green
toilette. He pulled back the maroon shower curtain and stepped into the green
tub, an odd combination of colors his mother had selected when they moved
into the trailer years ago.

Zach turned each of the handles and pulled up on the switch sticking out of
the fraucet, feeling the hot water spray over his body from the shower head
above him sticking out from the wall. He put his face directly into the path
of the steaming water and let it remain there until he could stand it no
longer. He lathered up with soap and washed it off, running his hands along
his skin until all the white foam was gone and down the drain. He worked his
arms first, then his body, then each leg, until he was done. He put some
shampoo into his hands and mashed it into his hair, rinsing and repeating
with the same brand of conditioner, Aussie, as the bottle directed him to. He
stood there, silent, not awake enough to think, letting the steam roll out in
the space between the cealing and the shower curtain. After a few pursuading
factors, mainly the rising of a second morning hard on, Zach stuck his arm
out of the hot shower and grabbed the bottle of Baby Oil that was sitting on
the white counter top kitty-corner to the green bathtub. He opened the top
and poured some into his hand setting the bottle back onto the counter when
he was done. He rubbed the soft smelling liquid into his cock and balls,
stroking over the head with a moan. He rubbed his balls and stroked, cumming
for the second time that morning, the white liquid draining with the water.

Zach stepped out of the shower and took the towel hanging on the rack next to
him, drying off his hair first, then his neck, arms, body, and legs. He dried
his ass and his cock last, squeezing out the last few drops of semen into the
dark green towel. He hung the towel back on the rack and grabbed the red
plaid boxers he had lain out, sliding into them. He put on the pants and
shirt, and lastly the white socks. He grabbed a bottle of gel and rubbed some
into his hair, messing it up so that it still looked like he had just gotten
out of bed, except that his hair looked wet and shiny. Zach walked back into
his room and sat at his computer chair, rolling it to the mirror he had
nailed to the wall, his wooden desk sitting in front of the mirror. He opened
up the top drawer and pulled out a tube of black nail polish, black mascara,
and black eyeliner. After applying the polish to each nail he applied heavy
and dark color to one eye, giving him a clockwork orange look. He looked to
the alarm clock, finding it was about 7:15. "Great, time for another
wonderful day at school. Boy I can't wait to get to that good old science
class...." he said aloud to himself. Zach turned off his light, put on his
black hoody, which had an Anarchy patch accross the right breast, grabbed his
backpack and left the house, walking the short block to school.