Date: Fri, 21 Nov 2003 14:50:32 -0800 (PST)
From: rimpigfl <rimpigfl@yahoo.com>
Subject: PLUM STREET - PART I

DISCLAIMER: This is just a story. It didn't happen. In so many ways I
wished it had happened to me.

For Jason - "Your love like a river, peaceful and deep. Your soul is like a
secret that I never could keep."

Copyright (c) 2003 by RimPig. All rights reserved. Permission is granted to
Nifty Archives, to archive and display this work. All other uses are
expressly forbidden unless explicit arrangement has been made with the
author. This copyright applies to all chapters and pages of this work. It
may not be reproduced, posted, stored electronically, or archived, except
for personal, non-public use, without the express written permission of the
author.

PLUM STREET
PART I
by RimPig   2003

Growing up, I was poor. Dirt poor. Mostly because my mother was a
drunk. Whoever my father was, he left long before I was born. They were
never married. Mom had a succession of loser boyfriends but now, even those
had mostly stopped because she wasn't looking so good anymore.  Years and
years of boozing will do that to you.

I figured out that I was gay when I was about 13. Not a blinding revelation
or anything. The feelings just kind of quietly grew in me until one day I
figured it all out. I didn't have anybody to talk about it with so I just
kind of kept it to myself. I wasn't effeminate or a nerd or anything. In
fact, I was a jock. By the time I turned 17, I was on the high school
varsity wrestling squad and the baseball team playing short-stop. I hoped
that I would be good enough to be offered a scholarship to college because
that's the only way I was ever gonna get there and away from a home which,
for all intents and purposes was just a place to stay out of the rain and
cold. There was no love there now, if there had ever been. It was just a
place to be alone and lonely.

I tried to get a job, but the demands of a work schedule would have
necessitated me dropping out of sports and that I just couldn't do. Not
only was it my only chance to get into college but it was the only joy I
had in my life! Okay, I'll admit it. I loved being around other jocks. I
loved the locker rooms, the way they smelled of hot, sweaty teen jocks. The
way I got such 'eye candy' watching my team mates walking around naked, or
nearly naked. I especially loved to see a guy in a jock. Something about
those turned me on all to hell!

I was so into sports - and the other jocks - that I not only played
baseball and wrestled, I was also the 'equipment manager' for the football
team. I had no talent for football, besides being 'too small' - I was only
5' 6" and only weighed 145. But football had something that drew me to it.
Some of the hottest jocks in the school. Especially one. But more about him
later.

Wrestling was a different story. I was top man in my weight class. I loved
wrestling! To get to grapple with other hunky jocks with almost nothing on,
feeling their warm, sweating skin against mine, to smell their potent male
scent - fuck! I got hard just putting on my singlet.

As much as I loved wrestling though, I knew that there was a better chance
at getting a scholarship for baseball and so that's what I concentrated
on. Besides, if I was lucky enough, a career in baseball could make me a
fortune! At least enough that I'd never have to go hungry - as I'd done a
lot of times growing up.

Guys, at least the guys on the teams, didn't question why I didn't
date. Everybody knew about my situation. It ain't exactly wonderful when
everybody in school knows that your mother is a drunk and a slut but nobody
ever got in my face about it. I wasn't really close to anybody on the
teams, however. I had a hard time ever making friends. After all, I could
never invite anybody over to my house - apartment, rather - because I never
knew what kind of condition that my Mom would be in. Not to mention, it was
a dump, anyway, and most of the guys in my high school at least had decent
houses to live in.

Once I realized that I was gay, making friends became impossible. I
couldn't take the chance that anybody would find out. It was bad enough
being the 'poor kid' with the drunken slut of a mother, but being a 'fag'
was a million times worse! No, I just kept my distance from everybody -
jacking off from afar, as it was. I was friendly, don't get me wrong. I
would joke and stuff with the guys but, I didn't go to team parties or out
on the weekends with any of the guys. I just kind of stayed to myself. I
guess the guys put it down to the fact that I didn't have money the way
most of them did. Not that I didn't want to have money. I just couldn't
figure out a way to get any.

That is until one, fateful day.

It was a Saturday. I didn't know what to do with myself so I just hopped on
a bus and went downtown. I figured I'd just walk around, maybe go to the
library and stuff. I'd managed to get $10 out of Mom - that was a miracle
in itself - and I figured I might even take in a movie or something. I
quickly disavowed myself of that idea, however because (1) movies cost a
lot of money - most of the $10 and (2) I was lonely enough without seeing a
movie alone. So I went to the library.

The library has free computers and I'd been teaching myself how to surf the
internet. Usually the computers were busy but there was this one set of
three of them that were kind of back in a corner where you couldn't see
them - unless you knew where they were. They were not busy a lot and this
Saturday, for some reason, there was nobody back there on them at all.

I sat down and started surfing the net until I found this website that I
couldn't believe! It was filled with the ads of young guys all over the
fuckin' country who hustled! They sold their cocks for money! To other
guys! Some of these studs got $250 an hour just to let some other guy suck
their cocks! Fuck! Now that was a job I could handle! I'd love to have
somebody swinging from the meat between my legs. Maybe God didn't make me
6'2" but he made up for it in dick! At seventeen, I already had nine hard,
thick inches! I knew because I'd measured it on a monthly basis since I was
about 12. And with my body from all the sports I played and all the working
out I did at the gym at school, I figured that I could make some good money
just by lettin' somebody get my rocks off for me. Since I was doin' it for
myself at least 4 -5 times a day, I figured that I had a good supply of
'inventory'!

I just didn't know how to go about getting started! I mean, I didn't have a
computer so there was no way that I could hook up with any 'potential
customers' that way. I was too young to go to gay bars - any bars, for that
matter. So how could I get in on this lucrative trade? Something was
nagging me in the back of my head, something I evidently knew but couldn't
remember.  Something about a street...yeah! That was it!

Plum Street! I remembered then. I'd been warned not to go down that street
at night. It was notorious for arrests for what were vaguely termed 'morals
charges' by the TV news. Now I understood! This was where guys who sold
their dicks and guys who bought them met. Maybe, that was the place to
start! I could make some money finally and also finally find out what it
felt like to have sex with another guy!

I got back on the bus and headed back home. I figured I'd better get
dressed and take a shower before I went down there. I had an idea of what I
could wear. I had this old pair of jeans, that were so old they were full
of holes and tears and fit me like they were a second skin. I knew my cock
and my ass would show in them really good. I also had this old sweatshirt
that I had cut off to show a lot of midriff that I wore to work out in. I
figured that this would be the perfect 'outfit' to attract somebody for
sex.

I waited until after 10:00pm. By that time, my mom was passed out cold and
I knew I could leave without her ever knowing. Not that she much cared
where I went or when, I just didn't want her asking any questions about
where I was going. I caught a bus and headed for Plum Street.

Plum Street was in an old part of the city downtown. It ran a few blocks
and was filled with old bars and mostly empty stores and offices. Not the
kind of place where you'd want your 'business address' if you get my
drift. I never had any reason to go there before but I knew where it was
because Mom had worked as a barmaid in a couple of the bars here when she
could still hold a job.

The street was not all that well lit. Oh, there were streetlights but most
of them were old and half of them were burned out. I didn't exactly know
what to do so I just kind of walked around, nervous as hell and
waited. What exactly I was waiting for, I didn't know. I thought maybe some
guy would walk up to me or maybe drive by. I wasn't exactly sure how this
worked. I must have been there for over an hour before this car came
driving down the street, really slow, like the driver was looking for
something.

As he passed me, the guy in the car looked me over really hard! I got
scared. He was old, probably in his 40's or 50's. He was not good
looking. He stared with eyes that were really scary in their intensity! I
suddenly started getting visions of my face on a milk carton! This guy
looked like a serial killer and I didn't really want anything to do with
him! Luckily, he passed by without stopping. I didn't know it then, but
this was just the 'first pass'- when a 'john' sizes up a hustler.  The car
went around the corner and I figured that was it, he was gone and relaxed.

Within a few minutes, however, he was back. Still driving slow and when he
passed me this time, he slowed down even further. I freaked out! I didn't
want anything to do with this guy but I didn't know what to do. I figured
the best thing was to just get out of there so I started walking away in
the direction from which he'd come hoping that he'd get the message that I
wasn't interested.

The message didn't get through. A few minutes and he was back again,
driving slow past me as I walked. I speeded up. I figured the only thing I
could do was get the hell off Plum Street until this guy went away. I was
walking very fast now, looking behind me to make sure that he wasn't
following me or something. I'd just gotten to the cross street - Elm - when
I ran smack into what felt like a wall and fell back, right on my ass!

"Hey! Watch where you're...huh? Eric? Is that you, man? You all right?" the
voice above me asked.

I looked up right into the face of Brian Lockwood, as he bent down, his
hand extended, to help me up. I suppose I should tell you about Brian now
since he figures pretty heavily in all of this.

Brian Lockwood is the Jock-God of my high school. He's a senior and the
captain of both the football team and the wrestling squad. Brian is about
6' tall with long dark hair and piercing blue eyes behind long, dark
lashes. He weighs about 180 and is thickly muscled in all the right places.
His face is almost too cute but with a certain masculine angularity to
it. He also has a fucking awesome cock! The soft hang looked to be about
six to seven inches long. I had no idea what it was hard, having never seen
it in that state, but I could fantasize!

Yes, I had the hots for Brian. Had the hots for him since I first saw him
in the locker room my freshman year. Strangely enough, Brian had always
been nice to me. Never made fun of me or anything like a lot of the older
jocks did to freshmen. Actually took to saying hello to me - even in the
halls when he was with his entourage of jock 'buddies'. This was a total
act of kindness, whether he knew it or not, because it stopped any
harassment of me by the older jocks. If Brian said hello to me, then I was
'too cool' to mess with.

So there I lay at Brian's feet (someplace I would have willingly been if
he'd ever asked!) dressed like a male slut, with Brian's hand reaching down
to help me up.

"Man! I'm sorry. I didn't even see you!" I mumbled as I rose to my feet.

For some reason, Brian didn't let go of my hand right away. He just kind of
looked at me. It was a funny look, too. Kind of like he'd never seen me
before. I couldn't figure out what was going through his mind. I knew what
was going through mine, however! How was I going to explain how I was
dressed and where I was?! If I knew about Plum Street, then you can bet
your ass, everybody else did, too!

"What's the matter, dude? You act like you've seen fuckin' Freddy Kruger or
somethin'!" Brian smiled.

"Not far from it! There's this old dude in a car...keeps followin' me." I
said.

Just at that moment, the guy in the car showed up again! This time slowin'
down as he approached Brian and me but, when he saw us together, he sped up
and went on around the corner and disappeared again. I guess from my
reaction, Brian knew that was the guy.

"Was that him?" Brian asked.

"Yeah! He's scary man! The way he was lookin' at me!" I said.

"Well, dude, given where you are and how you're dressed, what the fuck did
you expect?" Brian grinned.

"Ahh...uhh...what do you mean?" I asked, trying to act dumb.

Act, hell! I was dumb! Stupid to ever try this! And now, I had to run into
Brian, of all people!

"Man, don't you know what this place is?" Brian asked.

"Uhh...no." I lied.

"Eric, do you know what 'hustling' is?" he asked, looking me in the eyes.

Oh, God! I couldn't look into those intense blue eyes for long! It was like
they could look right down into my fuckin' soul or something!

"No." I said quietly, dropping my gaze.

"Well, you know what a hooker is, don't you?" he asked, his exasperation at
my naivete obvious.

"Sure! I know what that is." I said.

"Well, a hustler is a guy who works like a hooker. Instead of selling
pussy, he sells his cock...or his ass." Brian said.

"You mean..." I faltered.

This was NOT a discussion I wanted to be having with Brian Lockwood of all
people!

"Yeah, I mean exactly that! Guys sell their bodies to other guys. And
that's what happens on Plum Street. So what are you doing here dressed like
that, anyway? If I didn't know better, I'd swear you were down here to make
a some money, buddy." he laughed.

I laughed, too. I don't know how convincingly, however.

"Uhh...no...I was just out walkin'. I got lost." I said, lying my ass off!

"Well, come on with me, buddy. My car is near here. I'll give you a lift
home." he said.

"Okay. Thanks." I said.

Then it started to hit me. What the fuck was Brian doing down here at this
time of night?

"So...uhh...what brings you down here?" I asked quietly.

"One of my Dad's garages is right around the corner. I was workin' on a car
that he and I are rebuilding." Brian said.

I knew that Brian's Dad was a very successful mechanic and owned several
garages. I remember once going to a car show at a mall and seeing a custom
car which Brian's Dad had on display there. I also knew that Brian drove
one of the hottest cars in school - a torch red 1967 Corvette 'Sting-Ray'!
I'd hear the roar of it's engine and the squeal of it's tires as Brian left
the school parking lot many times. Now, to think, I was finally going to
get to ride in it was a treat in itself - much less that Brian was going to
be riding next to me!

"Oh." I said, not knowing what else to say.

After all, I was only a Junior. Juniors didn't talk to Seniors - at least
not often. I had already said more words to Brian than I had said in the 3
years that I had known him. Well...okay. Maybe 'known' him isn't the right
phrase. More like 'known OF him' or 'been around in the near vicinity of
him' would be more accurate. We walked down the street to an all night
garage where Brian gave the guy some money and a ticket.

"There's no room in my Dad's garage for my car and this place keeps it
safe." Brian explained.

Within a few minutes, the beautiful red Corvette made it's appearance with
the parking garage attendant smiling at Brian as he handed him the keys.

"Here 'ya go, Brian." the guy said.

It was obvious he knew Brian and the car.

"Thanks, Jake." Brian said as he slid behind the wheel and leaned over to
unlock the passenger door for me.

I opened the door and slid into the black leather, sculptured bucket
seat. I'd never ridden in a 'Vette before and was surprised at how low to
the ground we were. The engine roared, the tires squealed and we were
flying down the street at a faster rate of speed than I had ever
experienced in my life! My heart was in my throat and my stomach was
somewhere down around my pubic bone! It all but took my breath away. At
this point, Brian decided to talk!

"So, you wanna go home or would you like to hang out at my place for a
while?" he asked.

Me?! 'Hang out' with Brian Lockwood?! Does the phrase 'Give my left nut'
have any meaning for you?!

"Uhh...sure...no problem...I'd like that." I finally managed to get out,
sounding like a complete dork!

Oh, fuck! He probably was having second thoughts about wanting to even be
around me after that! But, what the fuck?! I was still nervous as a fuckin'
cat! I mean, after that creepy guy and then running into Brian
(literally!), what the fuck was I supposed to be? I still don't know if he
completely bought my excuse for being there - especially considering the
way I was dressed.

My head was spinning. I was sitting here next to Brian. I was so close, I
could smell the scent of his sweat and that scent was heading straight to
my groin and making my cock begin to slide down the leg of my very tight,
torn jeans. I only prayed that he couldn't hear the deep breaths I was
taking of him! God! The scent was so male and yet it was somehow sweet,
like evergreens or something. What ever it was, it was driving me crazy!

Brian reached over to the a small black box on the front of the console and
suddenly, the sounds of N'SYNC began to waft through the speakers hidden in
the doors. That surprised me all in itself - Brian listened to 'boy bands',
too? I recognized the first song immediately - "A Little More Time On
You". Yeah, that one fit Brian really well! As the song says, "God must
have spent a little more time on you.". Indeed, it seemed to me that God
had done some of his best work making Brian. I looked at him out of the
corner of my eyes as he drove the 'Vette. His arms, sticking out a an old,
grease-stained t-shirt were strongly muscled and had a light dusting of
dark hair. His jeans were similarly stained and almost as tight as my
own. I could see the thick roll of his cock running down the inside of his
left leg which told me a couple of things - one, he was going commando,
just like me and, two, it looked as if he was half-hard, also like me.

I also noticed one other thing. Brian was taking deep breaths. I could see
the thick muscles of his chest rising and falling. It was almost as if he
was breathing as deeply of my scent as I was of his.  But that made no
fuckin' sense! Why would Brian be sniffing my scent...after all, there was
no way he was into guys. Fuck! He was dating and, if the rumors were true,
banging the head cheerleader - Cheryl Townsend - ever since he'd made
Varsity.

But that was something else confusing, now that I thought about it. Where
the fuck was Cheryl?  This was Saturday night. Why weren't they out
together somewhere doing the horizontal mambo?  Why was Brian working on a
car and now driving home with me to 'hang out'? What the fuck was up here?

I didn't have long to think about it because we suddenly pulled to a stop
in what looked like an industrial area of the city. Brian reached up to the
visor and pulled down what looked like a remote control and pointed it at a
huge industrial garage door which began to slowly rise. Brian pulled the
'Vette into the garage and then pushed another button on the remote control
and lights blazed and I could see that this was another garage - filled
with cars, some up on racks, some with their hoods up as if someone would
be right back to work on them.

"We're here." Brian said, opening his door and getting out of the car.

I got out and looked around as the huge garage door lowered back into
position.

"Where are we?" I asked.

"Another of my Dad's garages. This is where I live." he said.

"You and your Dad live here?" I asked, completely confused.

"No. Dad lives across town. I live here. When I turned 18, Dad gave me this
place and it's got it's own apartment upstairs." he said, pointing to the
back of the garage where I saw a set of metal steps going up to a cat walk
in front of what looked like offices, hanging out over half the garage.

"You live by yourself?" I said, amazed.

"Yeah. Dad said that now I was 18, I needed a place of my own. Me? I think
that Dad wanted a place of his own!" Brian grinned.

"This is so fuckin' cool!" I said, awed by the freedom that Brian had.

"Yeah...well, I guess it is, but it can be lonely at times, too." he said
quietly.

What was that? Brian Lockwood, the jock-god of Central High School, lonely?
How could that be? What about his 'entourage' of jock buds and Cheryl
Townsend? What reason would he ever have to be lonely? This remark just
made no sense to me.

"Come on, lemme show you around." Brian said, putting his arm across my
shoulders.

Suddenly the intense aroma of his underarms hit my nose, pungent and sexy!
I was almost instantly bone hard and dripping as he walked me to the back
of the garage and then led me up the stairs. He opened the door and instead
of the offices I thought were up here, I got the shock of my life. A
beautiful living room full of black leather furniture, a couch and two
chairs, and soft lighting met my eyes. He and I both took off our shoes and
put them by the door and then I began to look around. On the walls were
large abstract paintings of vibrant colors - reds, blues, purples, greens
and oranges. Swills of paint, all obviously by the same artist. I looked
down at the lower corner of the nearest one and could see the name of the
artist scrawled in black paint - just the initials "BL". Brian Lockwood?
Were these works of art Brian's, I wondered?

He watched me as I went around the room, looking at them and smiled at me.

"Yeah. They're mine." he said quietly.

"They're incredible! I didn't know that you...well, that you..." I fumbled.

"That a jock could be an artist?" he smiled.

I blushed in my embarrassment.

"Nobody else knows either. You're the only one who's ever seen them - other
than my Dad, of course." he said.

He had to be joking! Surely some of his 'buds' or Cheryl must have seen
them. But he must have been reading my mind - or the disbelieving look on
my face.

"Nobody's ever been up here but you." he said quietly, looking at me
intently.

"Nobody?" I asked.

"Nobody. I broke up with Cheryl about the time I moved in here. I've only
been here a month now." he said.

"I'm sorry." I said.

I really wasn't, but what was I supposed to say? 'Glad you dropped the
cheerleader! Wanna try guys now?'. Okay, it's what I wanted to say but I
wasn't about to!

"Don't be. Just didn't work out. Wasn't what I was lookin' for." Brian said
as he gave me a significant look.

Unfortunately, I had no idea what he was driving at so the look was wasted
on me.

"What about all your friends." I asked.

"Friends?" he asked, looking at me oddly. "Oh, you mean all those guys who
hang around me?  Those aren't friends. Team-mates, hanger's on, guys who
follow whoever's popular this week, but friends - not hardly."

There was a bitterness to his tone as he said this. My mind was doing
double flips I was so confused. This was definitely not the Brian Lockwood
that I had always imagined from a distance.  I didn't know what to say so I
looked around some more. There was a huge plasma screen TV hanging on the
wall and I could see speakers in the upper corners of the walls that
evidently made this a 'home theatre'. A huge rack of sound equipment was
below the screen. On each side were bookcases, floor to ceiling and running
the length of the wall on each side of the sound system and video screen,
and filled to bursting with books.

Brian saw where I was looking, and walked over a picked up a remote control
from a glass coffee table in front of one of the leather couches. He pushed
a couple of buttons and suddenly soft jazz piano was gently pouring from
the speakers. Again, a style of music I would never have guessed at but so
smooth, so sensuous, that I was in love with it immediately.

"That's really nice." I said quietly.

"Yeah. It is, isn't it? It's a guy named Bill Evans. He died long before
even of us were born.  Usually he played with a trio but this is a CD of
just him. It's called 'Bill Evans Alone', actually."  he smiled. "Hey, you
want a beer?" he asked, heading towards a doorway.

"Sure." I said.

"Have a seat. Make yourself comfortable." I could hear Brian's voice coming
from what must be the kitchen because I could also hear a refrigerator door
open and close.

I relaxed back onto the leather sofa and looked down at the floor. What
appeared to be light oak or pine, highly glossed contrasted with the stark
white walls and the black leather furniture. All together it was masculine
and elegant at the same time - kind of like a tuxedo. The room told me that
there were sides of Brian that obviously no one else knew about and I began
to wonder - why had he chosen to reveal them to me?

I could hear the tread of Brian's shoes on the wooden floor and then felt
the warmth of his body as he leaned over the couch behind me, dangling a
cold, long-neck in front of my face. I took the bottle and Brian climbed
over the couch and plopped down right next to me, so close that our legs
and our shoulders were touching. I quickly took a long drink of my beer,
trying not to notice how close he was, how wonderful his body felt against
mine and, above all, to ignore the scent of him which was driving me
fucking crazy!

"So, what do you want to do?" Brian asked.

"I don't know. Anything's fine with me." I said.

"Anything?" Brian asked, giving me a grin with a mischievous glint in his
eye - or was I imagining that?

"Well, almost anything." I said quietly.

"What won't you do, Eric?" he asked quietly.

I was so stunned by the question, I had no answer for it! I just looked at
him, my mouth hanging open. He seemed to take pity on me and didn't pursue
it. Instead he asked,

"Wanna watch a movie?"

"Ahh...uhh...sure." I said, still rattled by his question.

"Great, I've got a good one. Ever seen Francis Ford Coppola's 'Dracula'?"
he asked.

"No. I never have." I said.

"Then you're in for a treat!" he grinned.

He got up and rummaged through a huge rack of CD's and DVD's until he found
what he was looking for. With another remote control he dimmed the lights
and suddenly the movie began playing on the huge plasma screen and the
sound of it surrounded us from the hidden speakers.

The movie was incredible! If anything so horrible could be said to be
'sensuous', then it was one of the most sensuous movies I'd ever
seen. There was something almost erotic about the horror of it. Something
almost 'homoerotic'. I wondered again at this 'Brian' who I thought I knew
but obviously knew nothing about! What was happening here?

As we watched the movie, we continued to sit close to one another. Or,
should I say, Brian sat close to me for, when he sat down from getting the
movie started, he sat even closer to me than he was sitting before. His
body fully pressed against mine and then his arm came around me and rested
on the top of the sofa, just behind my neck and shoulders. This opened his
underarm again and, all through the film, I was breathing deeply of Brian's
scent. It almost kept me from following the film at all!

When the film was over, Brian brought us more beers and then asked if I was
hungry.

"Yeah. I guess I am. I didn't have anything but a couple of McDonald's
regular hamburgers for dinner." I said.

I didn't add that I'd been too nervous about my first venture into hustling
to eat.

"How about I make us something? Feel like an omelet?" he asked.

"An omelet?! You cook, too?!" I asked, shocked.

"Yes, I cook." he smiled.

"I'm sorry. I just can't get over this!" I said.

"Over what?" he asked, his face with a look of confusion.

"This! All of this! This apartment, your art, you being able to cook...all
of this! You're nothing like I expected you to be." I said.

"And that's a bad thing?" he smiled.

"No! Definitely not! I really owe you an apology. You're so much more than
I ever imagined." I said sheepishly.

"Not a dumb jock, huh?" he smiled. "Hey, man. It's okay. I don't let
anybody see the real me.  Most people would never understand."

"I'm not sure I do either." I admitted quietly.

"You're gettin' there. Don't worry. You'll figure it out, Dude!" he
grinned. "So lets get something to eat! What do ya say?"

"I say that I'm starved!" I grinned back.

Whatever it was that I didn't understand, didn't matter. What mattered was
that this 'Brian' was way beyond anything that I ever expected him to be! I
started to have some concerns about myself. I began thinking I need to get
out of Brian's apartment because I could feel myself being very strongly
attracted to him in ways that had nothing at all to do with my cock!
Well...not a lot to do with my cock. I started thinking about what it would
be like to 'be' with him. Not just as a onetime thing but as friends,
sex-partners and, maybe even more. That's what scared me! Where the fuck
did I get off thinking that Brian would even be interested in something
like that? And where the fuck did I get off thinking that, even if he would
be into something like that, that he would be interested in it with me?!

But, instead of leaving, I found myself in the large kitchen watching him
chopping up vegetables and cheese, whipping eggs and making two of the most
incredible looking omelets I'd ever seen.  He added some bread that he
sliced from a loaf and then toasted, and I suddenly realized that there was
a strong possibility that he had baked it! We sat down at a table and
ate. What looked incredible on the plate was even more incredible in the
mouth! I have to admit that I didn't take my time. I wolfed down the food
like I hadn't eaten in weeks.

"Want some more?" Brian asked, as I cleaned my plate.

I noticed that he was only half done and got red in the face from
embarrassment.

"No. I'm good." I said, shamefacedly. "I guess I was hungrier than I
thought."

"It is a compliment to a cook for someone to really eat!" he smiled.

He got up and got us a couple more beers. I knew I shouldn't have another
one but, what the fuck! I'd make it home somehow. Maybe for the first time,
Mom and I could share hangovers.

When we were done, I helped Brian put the dirty dishes in the dishwasher
and then we went back into the living room. The lights were still dimmed
from us watching the movie but Brian didn't raise them any. He turned the
sound system back on and the sounds of Bill Evan's piano poured softly from
the speakers once more. Just like before, Brian sat down very close to me,
our legs touching. I felt something like a spark from our contact and my
cock began to bone again. I was hoping that the dim lighting would hide it,
but with my jeans being so thin and tight, I wasn't sure.  Brian had
brought us two more beers from the kitchen.

"You're gonna get me drunk." I said, smiling at him.

"Is that a problem?" he asked.

"Not for me but I don't know how I'll make it home." I said.

"That's no problem, Eric. Just stay the night here." Brian said
softly. "You could call your Mom and let her know where you are."

"No need. She's passed out cold. She won't even know if I'm home or not. I
could be gone for days without her noticing." I said quietly, my voice
showing more disgust than I wanted it to.

"I'm really sorry, Eric." Brian said and I could tell that he really meant
it. "It must be tough on you."

"Yeah. I can't wait until I can get to college and get away from her. I
just can't take it anymore - watching her kill herself. She wasn't always
like this." I said, sharing this with someone for the first time in my
life.

"I know. My Dad knew her in high school. He told me about her." Brian said.

"Your Dad knew my mom?" I asked, surprised.

"Yeah. I told him about you. He told me about her. She was real popular,
was head cheerleader and Homecoming Queen their senior year." Brian said.

"So she was telling the truth. I never believed her stories about those
days but she's always lying so how could I know what was true?" I
said. "Why did you tell your Dad about me?"

This statement by Brian finally piqued my curiosity. Up until tonight, I
never thought that Brian thought much about me at all, except to say hello
to me.

"Well...you see, I talk to my Dad a lot. We're like best friends. Ever
since Mom left us when I was little, it was just me and him. I talk to him
about a lot of things. I talked to him about you because I figured you had
potential." he said.

"Potential? For what?" I asked.

"To be a friend. A real friend. I've watched you. You're quiet in your own
way. You stay to yourself and, as far as I can tell, you don't have any
real friends either. I know you don't ever hang around with the guys on the
team or go to any of the team parties. Everybody figures it's something to
do with your mom but I don't believe that. I think it's something
else. Something else that keeps you to yourself." he said.

I didn't know what to say. I wasn't about to tell him why! He wants to be a
friend, but he wouldn't want that if he knew the truth. I didn't know what
to say.

"I...uhh...I just don't have much in common with those guys. That's all." I
told him.

Well, it was the truth. Not the whole truth but the truth nonetheless.

"I think you realize now that I don't either." he smiled.

"Yeah. I think most of them would shit if they ever knew about the
paintings, the jazz and the cooking." I smiled.

"And some other things." he said mysteriously.

"Like what?" I asked.

He didn't answer. Instead he looked at me.

"Brian, what were you really doing on Plum Street?" he asked.

Oh, fuck! He knows!

"Nothing. I was just out walking around and got lost." I insisted.

"I think you could have been really 'lost' if what I think is true. Let me
tell you what I think. I think you went down there hoping to make some
money. I know you don't have a job or anything and I guess you don't have
much money - not with your mom drinking the way she does. I think you went
there to get some money and maybe a little sex while you were at it." he
said quietly.

I just stared at him. How could he know this?! He'd gotten it exactly
right. I didn't know what to say and the beer was starting to hit me so
that I wasn't able to come up with a lie. I just hung my head, not knowing
what to say. I knew I ought to run out of there, but I didn't know if my
legs would carry me or not!

"Eric." he said, putting his arm around me, the warmth of him and scent of
him making me dizzy as I looked up at him. "It's okay, Eric. I
understand. I really do. Have you ever done this before?"

I didn't know what to say! He knew! I guess there was no use lying.

"No. Never. You've got to believe me!" I said hanging my head again.

"I do, Eric. I do believe you. Let me tell you what I think. I think that
you've probably never had sex at all. I think you're a virgin."

I nodded my head, not looking up.

"And I think that we have something in common - it's not a girl that you
want to have sex with."  he said quietly.

I looked up into his face and my mouth fell open. "You...?"

He smiled and then didn't say anything. He must moved his head, closer and
closer until his lips finally touched mine. Gently at first and then hard,
more demanding. My arms slipped around his neck and his arms slid around my
body. His mouth opened and his tongue slid into my mouth. I moaned as our
tongues slid against each other and I began to taste him. The kiss was deep
and passionate and we were both groaning into each other's mouths. Finally,
we broke apart taking deep breaths and looking deep into each other's eyes.

"I...I...uhh..." I tried to speak.

"Yeah, me, too!" he smiled.

"Why me?" I asked.

I couldn't believe that this was happening, that Brian Lockwood had just
kissed me!

"Why not you? You are a very hot guy, Eric. You've got to know that." he
grinned.

"No. I'm not in your league." I said softly.

"Why don't you let me decide that." he smiled.

That hit me right between the eyes! Maybe he was right. Maybe he was a
better judge of what he wanted than I was!

"Okay. I guess maybe I should." I admitted.

"So, now what?" he asked.

I looked confusedly at him.

"Do you want to go on? Maybe move this to the bedroom or aren't you ready
for that?" he smiled.

"Yes! Oh, God, yes! I want to go on! I'm ready. Trust me, I'm ready!" I
exclaimed.

He reached down and very gently pressed his warm hand against the hard
mound of my cock stretching down the leg of my thin jeans.

"I think you've been ready all night as many times as that's been hard." he
said, smiling at me.

My face flushed with embarrassment. Brian reached up and took one of my
arms from around his neck and pressed my hand against his jeans. I could
feel his sizeable hardness beneath my hand. I squeezed gently and watched
as his eyes closed and he groaned.

"I've been ready all night, too." he smiled as my hand loosened.

"I wasn't lying. I really am virgin. I don't know what to do." I said.

"Well, I guess we'll find out together then." he said softly.

"You mean...?" I said, shocked.

"Yeah. Well, at least I am with another guy." he said.

"Are you sure you want to?" I asked.

So what was happening here? Was he just experimenting to see if he liked
it?

"Yes, Eric. I'm sure. I've known a long time. I just wanted to find the
right guy. A guy I could trust. A guy that I thought would care about me -
not just think I was some kind of trophy for his collection." he said, and
there was a bitterness in his voice.

I looked at him questioningly.

"That's what I felt like with Cheryl. I was a trophy. A good-looking jock
boyfriend to make all her friends jealous. I never brought her here or
showed her what I've shown you because I knew she didn't care about me. I
was just another charm on her charm bracelet." he explained.

"And do you care about me?" I asked.

"Eric, you've got to know I do. Can't you tell? I want you the way I've
never wanted anybody before." he said.

"But it was just by accident that we ran into each other." I said.

"Tonight. I just hadn't worked up the courage to approach you before
tonight. It was like heaven just dumped you in my lap!" he grinned. "If you
don't believe me, let me tell you this. You live at 122 West Dunlop street,
apartment 3D. Your telephone number is 555-4571. I've been past your place
so many times I could drive there in my sleep. Fuck, I've been afraid some
cop would pull me over for stalking you! And I know your phone number
better than I know my own. God, knows, I've dialed it enough times...well,
I dialed part of it. I just couldn't bring myself to finish."

"But why?" I said. "I never thought you even knew I was alive!"

"Oh, I knew. I saw you. I saw you when you didn't see me. I kept wanting to
find a way to be alone with you. I wanted a chance to get to know you but
things kept getting in the way." he said.

"Things?" I asked.

"Yeah. Like all those guys hanging around and Cheryl. I wanted to be free
of any 'distractions' before I approached you." he said.

"How did you know that I would...uhh...welcome...your approach?" I asked.

"I didn't for sure. But I'd seen the way you looked at me. I figured that
there was a good chance.  That's the only thing that gave you away. Your
eyes. And, they're beautiful, by the way. I love green eyes." he smiled.

"And I love blue ones. Well, yours anyway." I smiled shyly.

"I have to tell you something, though. You need to know where I coming
from. I don't want this to be just us getting our rocks off together nor do
I want this to be a one-time thing. I want to explore us being together - I
mean REALLY together." he said.

"You mean like boyfriends?" I asked.

"Well, maybe at the beginning. What I want eventually is a lover - a
partner. Somebody that I can be with forever. Can you handle the idea of
that?" he asked.

"Handle it? I've fucking dreamed of it! I wanted somebody that I could call
my own. Somebody who would love me as much as I loved him. There hasn't
been a lot of love in my life. Not for a very long time. I think Mom tried
but her drinking always got in the way. Whoever my father was, he certainly
didn't care about me. I have this fear that I will end up spending my life
alone. That's the thought I just can't handle." I poured out my heart to
him.

"Come on." he murmured. "Let's go into the bedroom. I want to show you how
'not lonely' you can be."

THE END OF PLUM STREET - PART I

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RimPig