Date: Wed, 21 Mar 2012 08:52:18 -0400
From: Josh Hart <joshhart226@gmail.com>
Subject: The Hart Diary: Chapter 2

The Hart Diary: Chapter 2

This story is my property, all legal things apply. Read at your own risk,
blah blah blah. Please send me any comments you have, I'd love to hear
them. I hope you enjoy my creative (and sexual) outlet.


"Josh Hart," my father yelled up the stairs, interrupting my jack-off
session.

I slowly and laboriously got out of bed. Nothing ticks me off more than
being interrupted when I'm working, except for my dad.

"What," I yelled back.

"Come here!"

I opened my door and walked down the stairs, following the smell of body
odor. My father worked out on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays after
finishing up with the football team, so he came home smelling like sweat,
urine and grass. I will never know why my mom, a tax attorney and the
bread-winner of the family, married such a slovenly dump, but she did, and
they had me and Hannah.

I found him in the kitchen with her, Hannah, my bitch of a twin sister.

"What?" I asked.

He finished talking to Hannah, almost as if I was a maggot, not worth his
time. He had always treated me like that and Hannah differently. I wouldn't
call it unconditional love, he's too stupid for that, but he does like
Hannah and has nothing but hatred for me.

"What were you doing afterschool today? Hannah tells me you weren't home,
where were you?!" my father said.

"I was practicing," I said, trying honesty for a spin.

"Practicing what, smoking pot with your drama buddies, huh? You make me
sick--"

"I was practicing for the state meet on Saturday," I cut him off. He stared
back blank-faced. "Swimming, remember?"

"They're letting you compete?" my sister said.

"What's it to you?"

"It's just as much my school as it is yours, and I was hoping we might win
this year," she said.

"We win every year, and this year won't be the exception since we've got
the best team in years."

"Because of you?"

"Yes, actually, we swam our relay in 3 minutes and 46 seconds. I swam my
part in 50."

"Have you been taking steroids?"

"No, I don't need to, like I said, we win every year, unlike your precious
lacrosse," I said.

"Don't," she said, "start that shit with me you turd."

"Or softball, or cheerleading."

"Yes, bathing beauty, tell me how I could ever match up to you."

"Well, for starters--"

"Alright, that's enough," my father said.

I glared at him. He always cut me off.

"So you're competing at state, good. Isn't this going to interfere with
your little drama club?"

"It's a class, and no, it won't interfere because my teacher's out for the
week with bronchitis. No Macbeth rehearsals."

"So what are you doing in there now, rutting like wild animals?"

"We're working, just like we always do," I said. At least it was half true.

"Oh yeah, well I've heard stories. Well, that's all, you can leave now."

I turned and left immediately. I made a show of slamming my door--it
always got under his skin. He must have not heard it this time. I went back
to jacking off. I was touching my butt where Pryce had touched it, twice. I
slapped it with my left hand, thinking about him doing it. Was he hitting
on me? The thought just about made me cum.

I jerked more slowly to delay the reaction. I still had my left hand
massaging my butt. Lying down sideways, I made my arm travel oh so tenderly
across my butt and around to my sack. I squeezed my balls and pulled down,
pulling some of the hairs out. A few more vicious thrusts and I was
cumming. I came on my chest mostly, coating my nipples with baby batter.

I cleaned myself up, trying the taste of my cum but not finding it to my
liking. Several tissues later I was fast asleep, dreaming sweet dreams of
Pryce.



School had gone by so slowly today, even though I had drama. Most of the
kids were high in there, and where usually I would enjoy the contact high I
got, this time I was too high on lust to let it take me anywhere. I sat and
listened to music during most of the class. Although I was Macbeth, we had
until February to finish learning lines. I'm sure I would regret it later,
but I was too wired to study lines.

I sat and listened to "#1 Crush" by Garbage over and over again. I used to
have this weird fantasy that I would go to Taylor Lautner's house and put
this music on and just stare at him until we started making out. I was a
virgin, so the fantasizing usually stopped there, not that I didn't know
about sex--I'd been watching porn since I was 13--but I still didn't
understand the mechanics of it. Now taking the place of Taylor Lautner was
Pryce Vickers. I was riding the high, waiting for the crush to take effect.

When we finally got to the locker rooms I even said hello to Kirk, that was
how great I was feeling. It wasn't until we got in the water, well more
like when I started swimming that the high kind of dropped. I was pushing
my muscles as hard as I could go, but I just wasn't going as fast as
yesterday. I was still fast, and I made it to the other side in a minute,
but I didn't have the miraculous feeling of yesterday.

When I got to the other side there were no oohs and ahhs. Shelley kicked
off and left me with Kirk who was picking at his fingernails. I understood
then what the problem was: Pryce wasn't there to cheer me on. That's why I
had swum so fast yesterday; I was swimming towards my crush.

The reason we'd switched it up was because at state the order of the relay
would be selected randomly. This was odd, but we thought nothing of
it. Now, at the other side of the pool from Pryce, I was seeing how this
could be a problem.

03:55.69 was our time. We didn't cheer like yesterday. Sure, we would still
probably win, but yesterday's relay had broken some records. We swam the
relay a few more times until our times began to steadily increase, at which
point Pryce called quits on the whole shebang. We made our way to the
dressing rooms. I felt tired, not the good tired I had felt yesterday, but
a listless tiredness.

Pryce walked me to my car again. We were chatting, he asked about drama, I
spun him some lies about how fastidious we were, prodigious workers. He
knew I was cutting the crap, everyone in the school knew about the drama
department's shenanigans.

"So," he said, "what was up with today. I could see you pushing, but you
just weren't as fast. There has to be some kind of explanation. Let me
think, did you jerk off this morning?"

"No." Wait, what did he just ask? Did he really just ask me if I had jerked
off?

"Good, I try not to before I swim; the extra testosterone keeps me going
strong. I'm sure it does the same for you."

Were we really talking about jacking off? I had to will myself not to pull
wood. I don't think he noticed, I hope he didn't notice, I was not okay
with him noticing unless he was about to pull wood himself. Being caught
gay in a southern school, no matter how large, is life-threatening.

"Say what, how about you come over to my house and we can head to the Y and
practice some more," he said.

"Okay," I said, it was all I could say.

"Follow me," he said.

He drove a white mustang convertible, so it would be hard to miss, and
unlike most people he wasn't making up for something with his fancy ride. I
got in my van and waited for him to get to his car. I was almost shaking
with excitement and fear. Fear of getting caught, excitement at catching
him.

We drove to his house. He lived about twenty miles from my house, in a
nicer neighborhood. His driveway was huge, and could easily fit our two
cars. We stepped out of our cars.

"Hey," he said, "come in and I'll grab you a pair of trunks."

"Okay." I followed him inside.

The house was beautiful, and I loved Pryce's room. He had a framed,
autographed poster of the Red Hot Chili Peppers. He loved their music, and
though I wasn't really into it, I was glad that he liked music. He was an
artsy guy and had some of his own drawings up on the walls. I'm sure I'm a
little biased, but he could be professional if he wanted to.

"I'll just go get the trunks out of the dryer, make yourself at home," he
said as he exited the room.

As soon as the coast was clear, I fell onto his bed. I was exhausted, but
more than anything I wanted to smell him. I turned over so that I was
hunched over the white bed, convenient color that, and my butt was sticking
out. I was sniffing his pillow when I felt a sharp slap on my ass. I
turned, thinking up an explanation as quickly as I could. It was only after
he planted his lips on mine that I noticed he was naked.

He pushed me back onto the bed, and I fell willingly. He kissed me again. I
was still in shock, this was my first kiss, and with the guy I was most
desperately in love with. I kissed back. He pulled away.

"You don't know how long I've been wanting to--"

I sat up and wrapped him a bear vice. We kissed, passionately, hungrily. He
opened my mouth with his and our tongues danced across each other, the
feeling was indescribable. I felt myself getting light headed in two
areas. I smothered myself in his neck, kissing and biting on each tender
morsel of flesh.

Unknowingly we were grinding on each other. His firm cock was only inches
from mine, separated by denim. He pulled off my shirt and threw it aside,
then began kissing my nipples. My nipples were really sensitive. I threw my
head back and moaned. I was in heaven.

He pushed me back onto the bed and got up. He unbuttoned my jeans, unzipped
the zipper, and shucked my pants and threw them to the side. Now clad only
in boxers, he could see his prize.

"Holy shit, that's huge," he said, not really in shock but more in awe,
like my dick was some kind of holy relic.

"Thanks," I said.

He smiled at me. "Can I?"

"Do you really have to ask?"

He kneeled down in front of me and took my cock into his hands. He slowly
jerked it, feeling all the contours. It was a nice dick, if I do say so
myself, a small mushroom head followed by a knotted cylinder. He sat
mesmerized. I was surprised I hadn't come yet. That look on his face made
my heart beat ten times faster to the point where I was sure I was having a
heart attack.

He picked up the pace.

"I'm close," I panted.

He looked up at me with this devilish grin on his face. He put his hands
down and lowered his face. He stuck out his tongue and lightly licked the
head of my cock. I came everywhere, in his luscious hair, on his face, some
even got on his junk. I was almost screaming with pleasure, I had never had
an orgasm this intense before. I must have shot nine loads. When I came
back down from cloud nine, I noticed that he had stood up and was jerking
his cock with my cum as lube. I couldn't let him do that, not after what
he'd done for me. I kissed his hand and moved it out of the way. Now on my
knees, I began to jerk his cock.

It was a magnificent dick, must have been at least seven inches and only a
little less wide than mine. I was jerking him slowly, and he was making
guttural noises through clenched teeth. I took hold of his balls with my
other hand and started to play with them. He had low hanging balls that
drooped like prize jewels. I felt like the richest man in the world when I
cradled those orbs.

"I'm getting close," he said.

I looked up at him with my own devilish grin. I looked at his perfect cock
and felt hungry. I noticed I had sprouted another hard-on. I stuck out my
tongue and made to lick his cock, then suddenly I took it into my mouth. I
sucked him like a babe sucking a tit, hard and unrelenting. I wanted my
milk, and he provided, bucketsful. His hot cum was like ambrosia, I'd never
tasted anything so good. Salty and sweet and creamy, I tried to get down
what I could of it. Some spilled from my mouth, dripping along the edges of
my full lips. When I had collected the last remaining morsels of his sweet,
sweet cum, I stood up and we shared a cummy kiss. He licked his cum off of
my lips. Then he scooped some of my cum off of his chest and licked it up
greedily.

"Do I taste good?" I asked.

"The best."

We kissed our way to his bathroom, bumping into everything on our way but
never breaking our lip lock. We got in the shower and let the warm water
rinse us of our delight. He soaped me up, and I soaped him up, making sure
to pay special attention to his balls. When he was soaping me, he ran his
finger down my crack and pushed into my hole. I moaned, he laughed. Then we
started laughing and kissing, tickling each other and then lying down at
the bottom of the tub, each on our sides as we kissed. I never wanted this
moment to end.

We got out of the shower and got dressed. It was getting late, I thought,
until I saw that the clock beside his bed said 7:30pm.

"Shit, my dad's gonna kill me," I said.

"Sorry we kept up this long--"

I kissed him, silencing his protest. We moved slowly backwards. To Hell
with my father, I was in love.

"Never apologize, you are perfect," I said.

He just smiled and kissed me. He walked me to my car, after checking to see
that the coast was clear we kissed again. I melted into him, our bodies
entwining as we desperately said our goodbye. Only it wasn't goodbye, and
when he walked back to his house, both of his parents having worked
late--thank God--I was not sad, I was the happiest I had ever been. I
was in love.