Date: Fri, 8 Jun 2007 22:11:58 -0500
From: Morris Henderson <bigmoh@post.com>
Subject: Loving Luiz Part 8

This story is entirely fiction.  By describing the love and sex between a
man and a teen boy, the author does not advocate such behavior.  If you
are offended by or if it is not legal for you to read such material, leave
now.

Chapter Twenty Two
------------------

    We loaded all of Luiz's gear into the trunk of my car.  I began to ask
him if he had packed his cell phone, all his toiletries, both of his swim
suits.  He interrupted me and said, "Jake, you're being a fussy dad.  I've
double checked everything."
    "Sorry," I replied.  "I should have known you would be thorough.  But
there's one thing you might want to leave here."      He gave me a puzzled
look so I continued, "Your necklace.  With the half heart.  You might not
want to explain it to other boys at camp."
    "I'm keeping it," he said emphatically.  "Because it's a reminder of
how we belong to each other.  If anybody asks about it, I'll just say that
I like it and it doesn't mean anything."  He paused and added, "Is it okay
to tell that kind of lie?  You said it's sometimes okay to tell a little lie to
keep other people from being hurt."
    "Yes, I remember saying that.  I suppose it's okay."
   After more than an hour's drive, through part of which Luiz slept, we
arrived at the camp.  I woke Luiz and said, "We're here."  The camp was
even more impressive than the brochure had suggested.  A large, rustic,
two-story lodge dominated the view.  It contained the mess hall and the
indoor recreation room and, I presumed, offices and living quarters
on the second floor.  The long gravel road to the main lodge passed by the
spacious playing fields.  Fanning out on either side of the lodge were
twelve cabins and, behind the lodge, we saw the outdoor swimming pool that
was separated from the lake by a beach.
   "Awesome," Luiz gasped.
   I parked alongside the driveway along with several other parents that
had arrived in expensive SUVs or luxury sedans that made my three-year
old Honda Accord seem very much outclassed.  A small registration tent was
set up near the lodge with a line of parents and boys waiting to check in.
We joined the line.  While waiting, Luiz, just like most of the other boys,
was scoping out his camp-mates for the next week.  A few of the boys
seemed to know each other, possibly from previous camps, and were
chatting and laughing amiably but the rest, like Luiz and nearly all of the
parents, waited silently.  When we reached the head of the line, a very
athletic-looking young man at the table asked, "Name?"
   Luiz, who I figured to be taken by the good looks of the young man, just
stood there.  I nudged him out of his trance.  He looked at me and said
to the young man, "Luiz Loberto."
   The man scanned a roster, looked up, and said, "Ah.  I see this is your
first time at Camp Pinehurst.  Welcome.  We have you assigned to cabin
four just over there."  He pointed toward the cabin.  "We have you in bunk
three.  That's an upper bunk.  Will that be okay?"
   "Yes, sir," Luiz replied while continuing to stare at his interviewer.
   "Fine.  You can unload your stuff whenever you're ready.  After you
settle in and meet your cabin mates, come to the lodge.  We're having an
orientation meeting at 11:30 in the mess hall ... that's in this big
building behind me ... and lunch is at noon.  Any questions?"
   "No, sir," Luiz said.
   Turning to me, the man said, "Mr. Lopez?"
   "Simpson," I replied.  "Jake Simpson."
   "I apologize," the man said.  "I should have known that from the
registration form.  "You can be sure that we will take very good care of
your son and that he will have a good time while here.  Do you have any
questions?"
   "No, it seems that everything is running very smoothly here."
   As we walked back to the car, I commented to Luiz, "He was very friendly
and efficient, don't you think?"
   "And good looking," Luiz replied without thinking.
   "Yes, he definitely was," I agreed.  "But be careful.  Remember what
happened to Robbie on the soccer team."
   "Oh!" he exclaimed in a flash of recognition.  "Was I that obvious?"
   "Perhaps only to me," I said.  "But I still think you should be careful."
   "Jake," he began.  "You know I would never...   I mean I wouldn't..."
   "I'm sure of it, Luiz.  Not knowingly.  I would just hate it if the
other boys started treating you like the team did Robbie."
   We reached my car and I opened the trunk to unload Luiz's gear.  He
then said, "I'll be careful, Jake.  I promise.  But I guess that means I
can't kiss you goodbye."
   I smiled at him, looked around to find no one near, and said, "Go open
the back door of the car.  Bend in as if you are looking for something on
the floor."
   "But everything is here in the trunk," he objected.
   "Just do it," I commanded.  He was confused but complied.  Meanwhile,
I opened the other rear door and bent inside.  He was still confused until
I put my hand at the back of his head, drew his face to mine, and gave him
a deep, meaningful kiss.  When we broke the kiss, I notice his eyes were
beginning to tear up.  For that matter, so were mine.  To lighten the mood,
I said, "I'll pick you up on Friday night.  Then it's sausage and meatballs
for breakfast in bed Saturday."
   He grinned and said, "With whipped cream?"
   "Whipped cream, strawberry jam, maple syrup, whatever you want."
   He laughed, for which I was glad, and said, "How about ice cream?"
   "Ouch," I scowled.  "Do you realize what cold ice cream would do to
a hot sausage?"
   He laughed even harder but struggled to say, "Maybe you should try it
if you miss me while I'm gone."
   Luiz was finally in a good mood when I helped him carry his gear to
Cabin Four.  He found his bunk and a small locker next to it to stow his
things.  Five of his cabin mates were already inside and were introducing
themselves as I began to feel like an intruder.  I said, "Have fun, Luiz.
See you Friday night."  He followed me to the door where, out of sight of
his new friends, he mouthed, "I love you."  I gave him a hug, a quick one
that a father might give to a son.
    It was a bitter sweet walk to my car.  I was delighted that Luiz would be
enjoying camp, an experience that every boy should have, but I knew the
coming week would be a lonesome one for me.
   The drive home seemed twice as long as the drive to camp.  When I
arrived home, there was a message on my answering machine.  Although
I wondered who would call on a Saturday morning, I decided to fix myself
some lunch.  As I began to eat my sandwich, I punched the playback
button.  "Ah ...  This is Robbie.  Luiz, I need to talk to you.  Please
call me back."  I nearly choked on my sandwich, fearing that his bastard
father had not lived up to his agreement.
   I immediately called Robbie's number.  Fortunately, Robbie answered
the phone; I surely didn't want to talk to his father.  "Robbie," I said. "This
is Jake.  Luiz is at camp until next weekend.  Are you all right?"
   "I'm okay," he said unconvincingly.  "I just wanted to talk to Luiz,
that's all."  Perhaps it was my imagination but I thought I heard a note of
desperation in his voice.
   "Are you sure you're all right?  Is there another problem with your father?"
   "No." he said and then hesitatingly, "He's not the problem."
   The wording said little but carried significant meaning.  If his father
was not the problem, what was?  "Robbie," I began.  "I said that you could
talk to either Luiz or I any time.  We meant that.  Is there something
bothering you that you would like to talk to me about?"
    "Well..."  There was a pause.  "If you don't mind."
   "Is your father home?" I asked.
   "He's playing golf and won't be home until about 6:00," he replied.
   "I was just about to swing by Burger King to pick up some lunch," I
lied.  "I'll pick you up on the way.  Will that be all right?"
   "Okay."
   I fretted over what problem Robbie might have, why he wanted to talk to
Luiz, and why he agreed to talk to me.  He was waiting on the porch as I
drove up and got into the car.  "How are things with your father?" I asked.
   "Okay.  He hasn't hit me or yelled at me.  He mostly just ignores me.
That's okay.  I can live with that.  And I want to thank you again for what
you did."
   "So, what do you want to talk about then?" I asked.
   "Well ... it's sort of about what you and Luiz talked to me about.  You
know, being careful and all."
   "In that case," I said, "We'll go through the drive-through window and
take our burgers back to my place to eat and talk in private."
   Soon, we were at my kitchen table with our burgers, fries and cokes and
I asked, "So, what's up, Robbie?"
   He began haltingly, possibly shy about revealing some hidden feelings
although he had been open enough when Luiz and I talked to him.  "I've
thought about what you said that night.  About being careful.  I think I
have been but my feelings just get stronger.  I want it so bad.  You know,
to be with another boy.  I've also thought about what you said about going
slow.  That's the really tough part."  Having broken the ice, he poured out
the rest of his story.  "There's a boy in my neighborhood, Josh.  He's 14
and I've known him for years.  We go to different schools so we didn't see
much of each other except in the summer.  Since school let out, we've been
together almost every day, playing ball and stuff.  He's a lot of fun,
really.  I like him.  But here's the problem.  He's been saying things like
I used to say.  Like, he asked me about jerking off and how I did it.
Yesterday, we were wrestling on the floor of the TV room.  We were laughing
and joking around.  But he grabbed me ... you know, down there ... and
squeezed.  I didn't know what to do.  I was afraid to encourage him.  I
just laughed and started to wrestle with him again.  But he grabbed me
again.  I thought he was just playing around so I grabbed him back and
said, 'How do you like that?'  He looked at me and said, 'It felt good.'
I wanted so much to grab him again and let him grab me back but I was
scared.  I think he wants to do stuff but if I'm wrong, he'll hate me like
my father does and I'll lose a good friend.  What should I do?"
   I thought for a moment before responding.  "Robbie, before I make any
suggestions, I want to ask you a few questions.  I want you to think very
carefully before you answer.  I want you to be honest with me.  Will you do
that for me?"
   "Yes," he said.
   "First, I want to know whether you are really gay or if you just want to
have some sex with somebody.  Think about that before you answer."
   With little hesitation, he said, "I'm gay.  The sight of good looking
boys gets me all excited.  Girls don't do that to me.  I think about boys I
know when I ... you know ... when I jerk off.  I imagine what it would be
like to be with them and do stuff together."
   "Okay.  Next question.  It's about Josh.  This will require real
thinking and an honest answer.  Do you really like him because he's fun to
be with, because you admire his personality and character?  Do you have
common interests in music, movies, sports, and things?  Or do you like him
because he has a cock that you could play with?"
   The directness of my question evidently took Robbie by surprise.  He
thought about that one much longer.  "Both." he said.  "I really like him.
He's fun to be with.  We've never had a real fight or argument ... except
about stuff like whether I fouled him when we were shooting baskets.  But
he's also one of the best-looking boys I know and I catch myself imagining
him naked.  I want him as a friend but I want ... well ... I want his body,
too."
   "Tell me about Josh's family."
   "He has a sister.  She's a senior in High School and works at the Mall.
His parents both work.  His dad is an accountant or something and his mom
is a nurse."
   "And what do you know about their feelings toward gay people?"
   "Nothing, really.  Josh and I haven't talked about that."
   "You know what your father thinks and what he did when you told him you
are gay.  Would you want that to happen to Josh?"
   "Never!" he exclaimed.
   "You're not going to like this but you have to consider Josh.  You have
to be absolutely sure that doing stuff with Josh doesn't cause him pain
with his family."
   "Does that mean Josh and I can't get together ... if he really wants
to?"
   "I didn't say that.  What I meant was that if it works out for you and
Josh, I think you are obligated to warn him of the possible consequences
with his family.  If it helps, tell him how your father reacted to
emphasize the point.  I also meant that -- if you both decide to have some
sex play -- you must take extra precautions so that nobody catches you or
finds out about it.  If ... and that's still a big if ... Josh wants what
you want, you could get careless.  If you're both horny, you'll stop
thinking.  That can lead to a real problem.  That's exactly what happened
to me.  I was horny and got careless.  My dad caught me.  Don't let that
happen to you."
   Robbie sat thinking over what I had said as he nibbled on the remaining
french fries and sipped his Coke.  Then he said, "I hear what you said.  If
Josh is really interested, I'll be careful.  But my problem is, how can I
be sure that he wants to?"
   "I wish I could answer that, Robbie.  All I can do is say let things
progress until it's obvious that he wants it or doesn't."
   "I'm pretty sure he does.  From what he's said, the way he reacted when
I grabbed him.  And there's another thing.  He's invited me to go to a
movie with his family tonight.  He said I could stay overnight after the
movie.  Then he asked if I would mind sleeping in his bed with him."
    "That's a pretty good sign that he's interested," I acknowledged.  "But
it's a bad idea.  First of all, his family will be in the house.  Too
risky.  Secondly, your father would be suspicious."
   "Yeah," he said.  "I told Josh I would have to ask my dad but I know
what he would say."
   "So tell Josh that your dad says no.  Unless you want to ask your dad
just about the movie and have Josh's parents drop you off at home after the
movie.  That might be all right with your dad.  But be sure to tell him
that the sleepover would have been fun...lots of fun.  If he's interested,
he'll get the meaning.  And next week, when you're together, in the house
alone, you might resume your wrestling match.  Let him grab you again.
Don't resist.  Grab him back.  See what happens.  It's a game you have to
play and there's only one firm rule.  Don't go too fast.  Wait.  There's a
second rule.  Stop when the other person doesn't want to play any more.
You may be horny as hell.  You may want sex in the worst way.  But if you
cross a line and Josh starts backing off, you must absolutely stop.  Does
that make sense?"
   "Yeah," he said.  "Thanks."  Then, after a long pause, he said, "You're
gay aren't you?"
   His question came at me from left field.  I was somehow not prepared to
answer it directly although I had answered that question promptly and
honestly many times in the past.  Instead, I said, "Why do you ask?"
   "You understand exactly how I feel.  You don't condemn me for it.  You
seem to know all the right answers to my questions."
   "Yes, Robbie.  I am gay.  I'm not out shopping for a partner but I am
gay.  Luiz knows that.  I'm surprised he hasn't told you."
   "Not in so many words but he's told me that you're very understanding
and accepting of gay people.  I ought to tell you, too, that Luiz would
have been my first choice.  I really like him because he's been so nice to
me.  And he's very good looking.  But I know he's not into stuff like I am
and like Josh probably is."
   I was mildly surprised -- and greatly relieved -- that Robbie had no
suspicions about Luiz or, more precisely, about Luiz and I.  "Thank you
for talking to me, Robbie.  I hope it has helped."
   "A lot," he smiled.  "And thanks again."
   I drove Robbie home, encouraged him to talk to Luiz or I at any time,
and wished him good luck with Josh.

Chapter Twenty Three
--------------------

   On Wednesday night, I received two phone calls.  The first was from
Robbie.  "It worked!," he gushed.  "Just like you said."
   "Oh?" I replied, just a little confused but not wanting to pry into
something very personal on the phone.
   "You know.  About the wrestling?  Playing the game a little bit at a
time?  I'm the happiest person in the world now.  And I just wanted to
thank you."
   "I'm very happy for you," I said honestly.  "And for Josh. Be very
careful.  I would hate for you to get in trouble."  I hoped he understood
my ambiguous comment.
   He did.  He said, "We will," he assured me.  "We talked about it and
know what not to do even if we want to do it."
   "That's good.  I wish you both nothing but happiness."
   The second call was from Luiz.  "How are you, Jake.  I'm worried about
you."  His first sentence could have been a formality; the second, however,
was a surprise.
   "I'm fine.  Are you all right?" I asked.
   "Everything is fine with me," he replied.  "I've made new friends,
there's lots to do.  I miss you but I keep thinking about you because
you're alone."
   "Don't worry about me," I assured him.  "I miss you but I'm looking
forward to your coming home.  That will more than make up for being without
you for a few days.  Are you ready for the homecoming party?"
   "Oh yes," he exclaimed.  "I've been saving myself for you.  Do you think
you can handle an extremely horny boy?"
   "I hope nobody heard you say that," I remarked.  "But yes, I think I can
give as good as I get."  He laughed.  "By the way," I added.  "I heard from
Robbie."
   "Oh no," he moaned.  "More trouble with his father?"
   "Not at all.  He has a boyfriend.  They are enjoying each other.  He
told me he's happier than he's ever been.  I'll fill you in on the whole
story when you get home.  Just two more days and I'm counting the hours."
   "Me too," he gushed.  "I gotta go now cause it's lights out in ten
minutes and the counselor is a real grump about us being in bed by 10:00.
I just wanted to see if you're all right and to tell you that I love you."
   "I love you, too, Luiz.  Don't ever forget it.  I'll see you Friday
night."
   I went to bed, which was lonely without my Luiz, but I was happy for
Robbie and happy that Luiz seemed to be enjoying his experience at camp.
My last thoughts before falling asleep were of Luiz and how he had, so
typically of him, worried about my being alone.
   Friday night finally came.  I pulled off the highway onto the gravel
driveway that led to the lodge.  It was packed with the same SUV's and
expensive sedans that I had seen when I dropped off Luiz but I didn't give
a damn.  The only thing on my mind was collecting Luiz, taking him home,
and loving him all night long.
   Luiz saw me first because he had dropped his gear and was running
toward me when I saw him.  When he reached me, he gave me a bear
hug.  I wrapped my arms around him, picked him up off the ground, and
twirled him in a circle.  When I set him back down on the ground, I said,
"I'd like to hug you longer but I think we should pack up your things and
leave, don't you?"
   I saw that evil grin on his face again as he said, "Yes, let's go home."
   With his things safely stowed in the trunk, I pulled out of the driveway
onto the highway.  Luiz was very excitedly telling me of the things he had
done at camp until, about a mile down the highway, I turned off onto a side
road that I had scoped out on my way there.  Luiz interrupted himself to
ask, "Where are you going?  I thought we were going home."
   "We are," I said.  "But there's something I want to show you."
   "Better be important," he groused.  Just around a curve on the deserted
roadway, I pulled over, stopped the car, and shut off the engine.  "What's
here that you wanted to show me?"
   I unbuckled my seat belt and unbuckled his as he stared at me
bewildered.  "What I wanted to show you," I began, "is how much I missed
you and love you."  I put my arm around his shoulder, drew him to me, and
we locked in a very long and very passionate kiss.
   When we broke the kiss, he said, "That was nice.  Nicer even than I
remembered it.  But it was just an appetizer, wasn't it?"
   "Wait until you see the main course," I said.  "Buckle up and let's go
home."
   For the rest of the drive home, Luiz continued to gush about all the
things he had experienced at camp, the friends he had made, and how
grateful he was for persuading him to go.  I was extraordinarily pleased
that he had enjoyed the week so much.
    About 10 miles from home, he had settled down.  I asked, "Which
swim suit did you use?"
    He gave me a slightly guilty look and said, "The little one."
    "Nobody teased you?"
    "No.  In fact, four of the other boys started wearing little ones by
the end of the week."
    "I'll bet you liked that...seeing them, I mean."
    "Of course," he said as though my comment was totally obvious.
    I told him of Robbie's call, our conversation, and his second call to say
that he and Josh were happy together.  Luiz was genuinely pleased.
   It was dark when I pulled into the parking lot of the apartment complex.
We lugged Luiz's gear up the flight of stairs, opened my door and we were
home together again.  We put his stuff in his bedroom and I said, "Oh, I
forgot.  A letter came for you.  It's on the kitchen table."
   "I'll look at it in the morning," he said.
   "It might be important," I replied with a phony serious look on my face.
"I think you better look at it now."
   "Can't it wait?" he asked.  "I'm getting horny."
   "Go get it," I said sternly.
   Reluctantly, he went into the kitchen while I went into my bedroom to
light two candles.  I had set out a large bouquet of various white flowers
on the top of the dresser flanked by the two candles.  There was also an
ice bucket with a bottle of sparkling cider and two goblets.  I turned off
the bedroom light just in time before Luiz walked into the candle-lit room.
 He was, as I had hoped, stunned at the sight.  He stood speechless as I
uncorked the sparkling cider and poured it into the two goblets.  As I
handed one to him, I could see tears in his eyes.  "Oh, Jake," is all he
could say.
   "Come sit down, my love.  We can drink a toast to being together again."
I led him to the edge of the bed where he gazed at the candle-lit bouquet.
"To us," I said as I clinked our goblets together.  We drank our toast and
set the empty goblets on the nightstand.
   "They're all white flowers," he finally managed to say.  "My favorite
color."
   "And the candles," I said.  "The bronze-colored one represents my bronze
beauty, the ivory-colored one is me."
   "Oh Jake.  I don't know how to thank you.  This is a wonderful
surprise."
   "So what's the letter?" I asked.
   "It's from you and you know it.  I recognized your handwriting."  He
opened it to find a greeting card with a white rose on the front and a
somewhat mushy poem inside about love being everlasting.  I suppose I
spent half an hour picking it out but when I saw it, it seemed right.
   "I've missed you, Jake.  I love you so much."
   "Want to show me how much?" I asked.
   He stood and exclaimed, "Get naked!" as he tore off his clothes and
threw them on the floor.  I did the same.  Our first orgasm, in a 69, came
all too quickly, the result of pure lust and a week's deprivation.
   "That was a mouthful," I said when we had recovered.
   "I told you I was saving it up for you," he said.  "I didn't jerk off
once while I was gone.  Did you?"
   "I was tempted," I admitted.  "At night when I got into bed all alone
and thought about how beautiful you are.  And in the morning when I woke up
with a boner and you weren't beside me.  But, no. I didn't"
   Our second climax followed prolonged, loving caresses.  It was not as
intense but even more satisfying as we both seemed more concerned
with the other's enjoyment.  I declined a third but Luiz happily accepted
my giving him yet another.  At about 3:00 in the morning, I blew out the
candles and we fell asleep in each other's arms.
   It was after 10:00 the next morning when I woke to find Luiz spooned
into me and his regular morning woodie pressing against my spine.  I
slipped out of bed for a necessary bathroom stop and, walking back into the
bedroom, I saw Luiz on his way to the bathroom.  I crawled back into bed
mostly because it was Saturday and I rarely had the chance to lounge in bed
in the morning.  Luiz soon joined me, gave me a kiss, and got under the
covers to snuggle up to me.  I was about to have a remarkable first-time
experience.
   My arm was around Luiz's shoulder and I found my hand was almost
subconsciously tracing circles around and over his prominent nipples.
Luiz began doing the same to mine.  Then he reached down lower and
began to fondle my limp cock.  The inevitable happened.  I got an erection.
He wasn't stroking me or doing anything that would arouse me futher and I
felt no need to reach climax.  It just seemed as if he were doing it
because he could.  The strange thing was, I was happy just to enjoy his
touch.  Stranger still, he was making no moves that would indicate that he
was asking for sex.  He, too, seemed content to play with my cock.  It was
a uniquely different experience.  He seemed to be communicating his love
and reinforcing the bond between us wordlessly, casually, completely
at ease.  Sure, we were naked.  He was fondling me.  I had an erection.
But somehow there was nothing sexual about it, just an overwhelming
feeling of togetherness that I had never felt with anyone before.
  Eventually, I began to feel selfish.  I asked Luiz if he was horny.  He
said he wasn't and that he just wanted to be close to me.  I knew that he
was being honest; we were always honest with each other.  "But if you
are," he said, "I can take care of it."  I declined and tried to explain my
feelings and how surprised I was at them.  He giggled.
   "What's so funny?" I asked.
   "Just thinking," he replied.  "You've taught me so much about sex ...
about love ... how they're different but can be the same.  Now, without
meaning to, maybe I've been able to teach you something."
   I rolled toward him, gave him a kiss, and said, "You've taught me much
more than that without meaning to.  Courage in the face of adversity.
Compassion for others.  What it's like to be deeply in love.  How to be
playful.  How to handle a snooty school principal."   He laughed at that
last one and I joined in.  "Come on," I said.  "We've got work to do."
   "What work?" he asked.
   "You have to put your things away while I fix brunch.  You no doubt have
a week's worth of laundry to do.  Then we have to go to the grocery.  On
the way back home, we have to stop and get you a bicycle in case you want
to go visit Robbie or anybody else during the day.  And then we're going to
have dinner at that Italian place down on the bay.  If you're not too tired
after all that, I have some late evening activities in mind."
   "Bicycle?  Dinner?  You've already spent too much money on me."
   "Stop it." I commanded.  "Remember the legal document you signed?
I think it said something about listening to your dad and doing what he
says."
   "But..." he began.
   "No buts," I interrupted. "Get busy."
   We picked out a mountain bike that was popular at the time, not the
top-of-the-line model but good quality that would easily serve the purpose
until he learned to drive in less than a year.  I could have taken the
assembled model in the store but took one still in its shipping crate
because it would more likely fit in the back seat of my sedan.  It was
dinner time when we got home and we decided to leave the bike in the car to
assemble the next day.
   That evening, I said, "Tell me more about the boys you met at camp."  He
began to give me more details than he had mentioned on the drive home
from camp.  "Any of them that you liked?" I asked.  He named five or six
that had been particularly friendly and the activities they participated
in.  "Were there any that you really liked?" I asked as I raised my
eyebrows.
   He paused.  A momentary look of puzzlement crossed his face before he
smiled and said, "I know what you're asking now, you pervert.  Yes, there
were two or three that were especially good looking.  They looked even
better in the shower room.  I was careful when I checked them out but
still started to get a hard-on.  At first, I tried to think of you to avoid
being embarrassed but that only made it worse so instead I concentrated
on other things, like Mrs. White."
   "I'll bet that kept you limp," I joked.
   "Sure did," he laughed.  "At the end of the week, I was thinking about
her a lot."  He laughed again, paused, and said, "You know what?  The
biggest problem I had was one of the counselors.  About your height.
About your age.  Muscles.  He was never in the shower room when I was
so all I saw of him was his chest, stomach, and legs.  But he had quite a
bulge in his shorts.  Do you hate me for looking at other men like that?"
   "Not at all," I assured him.  "I would be very surprised if you didn't.
It's just like we do when we walk along the beach."
   "Then you look at men, too?" he asked, looking a little worried.
   "Of course.  There's nothing wrong with admiring beauty.  But since I
met you, every time I see a good-looking man, I end up comparing him to
you and you always come in first place."
   He smiled at the compliment but then thought for a moment.  "I guess I
do about the same thing.  I look and think sexy thoughts.  I even get horny
sometimes.  But then I remember how much better sex is with somebody
you love."  I don't think his comment was meant either as flattery or to
assure me that he wouldn't do anything with anybody but me.  It was more
analytical than emotional.  Nevertheless, I was pleased to hear it.

Chapter Twenty Four
-------------------

   During the next two weeks, Luiz and I fell into a very comfortable
routine.  We didn't have sex every night; occasionally, we were happy with
just a kiss and snuggle together when we went to bed.  Luiz would do his
self-appointed chores in the apartment in the morning and spend the
afternoon at the library or, more and more frequently, pedaling his bike
over to Robbie's house to hang out with Robbie and Josh.  The three of
them were becoming good friends -- good enough that Robbie felt
comfortable telling Luiz when he was welcome and when to come over
at a better time.  Luiz, of course, knew why and rather than feeling
disappointed, he was quite willing to let them have their private time
together.  Soon after Luiz's return from camp, Robbie had the chance to
speak to Luiz without Josh around.  He explained that Josh was very
anxious about his sexuality and fearful that his relationship with Robbie
might become known.  Consequently, there was never any discussion
of sex when Josh was present.  However, Luiz did learn that they had
moved from mutual masturbation to oral sex.  Luiz told me this in one of
our regular evening discussions, almost casually, right after he had told
me of the books he had found in the library.
   One evening, as we were eating dinner, Luiz said, "I went over to
Robbie's house again today."
   "How is he?" I asked.
   "He's very happy.  He has Josh and his dad leaves him alone."
   "And Josh?"
   "I suppose he's happy, too.  He wasn't there today.  His sister took him
to a dentist."
   A few minutes passed.  "They fucked each other yesterday." Luiz said
casually as he cut up his slice of roast.  He had said it so casually that
he might have been commenting on the weather, which astonished me
more than the fact that Robbie had even mentioned it to Luiz who he still
thought was straight.
   "My, my," I said.  "It does seem like they are getting along well."
   Luiz didn't respond but continued to eat.  I sensed that something was
bothering him because he was uncharacteristically quiet and somber.  I
suspected it had something to do with Robbie and Josh fucking each other
and I erroneously guessed that Luiz thought it was gross.  Just as I was
about ask what was troubling him, he set his fork down, looked at me
earnestly, and asked, "How come we don't do that?"
   "Do you mean fuck each other?" I asked, hoping to clarify his question.
   "Yes," he replied.  "I know that gay men do it.  I know that it feels
good when you stick your finger up my bum and rub my prostate.  I was just
wondering why we don't do it."
   "Two reasons.  First, you've said that you think it's gross.  Second, I
don't want to hurt you."
   "But we finger each other.  I thought that was gross once but I know now
how good it feels.  And how could I be hurt, anyway?"
   "Because a hard penis is much bigger than a finger.  Your bum hole is
small.  It's easy to slip a finger up the hole but it's much more difficult
to get a penis up there.  It can hurt when your hole stretches enough to
let the penis in.  If it isn't done carefully, it could even cause a
painful tear and bleeding in the anus."
   "But Robbie and Josh did it.  He didn't say it hurt.  He sort of
suggested that they enjoyed it."
   "They probably did," I acknowledged.  "I have no idea how big their
cocks are but, as you know, mine is fatter than yours.  I'm afraid it would
stretch you so much that it would be painful and may even cause damage.  I
just don't want to hurt you."
   He thought about that for a moment.  I could tell that his analytical
brain was weighing the possibilities and consequences.  "But gay men do it.
Probably some of them have fatter cocks than you do.  How do they do it
without hurting each other?"
   "Yes," I had to admit.  "Lots of men do it but there are ways to avoid
or minimize the pain."
   "Would you be careful with me?" he asked.
   That question was an obvious request for anal sex, something that I had
imagined with him but never suggested.  "Are you very sure you want to
try it?" I asked.
   "Yes," he said without hesitation.  "I'd like to know how it feels ...
but only if you want to do it."
    "Agreed, then," I said.  "But you'll have to promise me that you'll let
me know if it hurts."  His wicked grin erupted on his face.
   We went to bed earlier than usual that night.  Luiz was eager for a new
experience and I suspected that it might take a while to prepare him for
it.  I retrieved from the bottom drawer of my night stand some KY and a
condom.  He looked at them curiously.  "This," I said, "is a lubricant that
will help me slide into you.  The condom, as I'm sure you know, is normally
used to prevent infection or avoid conception in the woman.  Neither is
necessary for us, of course.  It's just for cleanliness."  Luiz was so
intent on what I was explaining and showing to him that his cock remained
soft, which, I remember thinking, was the first time we had been naked
together without his getting an erection.
   I described a few positions but suggested that he lay on his stomach and
hike his butt up by pulling his knees underneath him.  I had heard,
although I wasn't sure, that position would be easiest for him to relax his
sphincter.  His almost hairless crack opened up and his pucker came into
view.  The thought of entering his most private part was enough to make me
hard.  I put on the condom and smeared some KY on his hole, my cock, and
on my fingers while telling him at each step what I was doing and what to
expect.  The first finger slipped in quite easily and I massaged his
prostrate.  "I'm going to slip another finger in now to gradually stretch
your hole.  You'll feel it.  Tell me if it hurts."  With a little
massaging, I was able to put a second finger.  After a few minutes, the
grip his hole held on my fingers began to loosen.  "I'm going to have to
loosen you up some more, Luiz.  I'm going to put a third finger in.  I'll
go slow but you must tell me if you feel any pain."  Between his sighs and
moans of pleasure, he said he would.
   Initially, I had difficulty inserting my third finger and had to tell
him to pretend that he was pooping because it would relax his hole more.
>From curiosity, I felt underneath him and, not surprisingly, found that he
was rock hard and oozing precum.  Twice, his moan was different and I
worried.  "Are you all right?  Does it hurt?"
   "Just a little," he confessed.  "But don't stop.  I'm getting used to
it."
   Eventually, all three fingers were sliding easily in and out of his
hole.  "You're ready now.  I'm going to take out my fingers and try to slip
my cock inside.  Just relax but be sure to tell me if it hurts."  I pressed
the head against his hole.  With only a little pressure, the head slid past
the sphincter but Luiz gasped.  I froze.  "Are you all right?" I asked.
   "Yes.  It doesn't hurt.  Not too much, anyway.  I was just surprised."
   Very slowly and very carefully, I inched my cock deeper while watching
for any signs of discomfort from Luiz.  Eventually, I was able to say, "I'm
all the way in Luiz.  How do you feel?"
   "I'm okay," he said.
   "That's good," I replied.  "All the preparations are over.  Now I'm
going to start fucking you.  I'll slide in and out.  This is the part that
most gay men like.  I'll start slow but when I get close to climax, I may
go faster.  Is that all right with you?"
   "Do it," he said.
   I held his hips and began.  The first several strokes were slow and
short but I gradually increased the pace and length of the strokes.  His
sphincter gripped my cock.  It was an erotic feeling I had not enjoyed
since college and it was quickly carrying me to the heights.  I was living
a fantasy that I had feared I would never experience -- the ultimate
intimacy with someone who meant more to me than anything I could have
imagined.
   Not much later, I groaned and filled him with my seed.  I stayed buried
in him for a couple of minutes, blissfully relishing the sensations that
continued to course through me.  Finally, I withdrew my shriveling cock
and laid down next to him.  "Crawl over and lay on top of me," I said.  "I
want to hug and kiss you until you plead for mercy."
   He chuckled and said, "It's you that will be pleading for mercy when I
get through with you."  We hugged and kissed.  Neither of us begged for
mercy.  By unspoken agreement, he laid his head on my chest.  Two
physical bodies that were really just two halves of a single entity.
   "That was nice." he said.  "Thanks."
   He had been sincere in what he said but I was surprised and a little
disappointed that he said 'nice' instead of 'wonderful' or 'awesome' or
some other more more colorful term.
   "Can I do it to you?"
   I handed him the KY and showed him how to put on the condom.  Having
told him what I was doing when I fucked him, he duplicated the procedure
with the exception that I laid flat on my stomach with only a pillow to
slightly elevate my ass.  Periodically, he checked with me, "Does it hurt?"
   "Not at all," I assured him.  "You're doing just fine."
   I felt his cock slip into my ass and then begin gently thrusting.  His
pace picked up and it wasn't long before he plunged forcefully into me.  I
felt his cock throb a few times as he released his teen juice.  He then
laid down on my back and stayed there until I felt his deflated cock pop
out of me.  We separated, rolled over to face each other, hug, and kiss.
   "Did you like it?" I asked.
   "Yes," he said hesitantly.  "It was nice but not what I expected."
   "Oh?" I said, hoping he would elaborate.
   He did.  "I suppose you enjoyed the orgasm because it always feels good.
It made me feel good when I shot inside you.  But there was ... well ...
Something seemed to be missing.  When you were fucking me, I felt like
I was just there.  It felt good, don't get me wrong, but ... I felt like it
was just sex without the love.  And it's the love that makes sex really
wonderful.  Then when I was fucking you, it felt the same way.  I was just
having sex.  I love you, Jake, and I know that you love me but I just
didn't feel it.  Am I weird?  Is that how you felt?"
   "You're not weird.  You're Luiz, a person that has a right to feel that
way.  And I appreciate your being honest about your feelings.  Is that how
I felt?  Yes and no.  When I was fucking you, I was worried about hurting
you.  I think that's part of loving somebody.  Then, when I climaxed, I
guess I have to admit I was thinking only about my own pleasure.  For that
brief moment, you were just there.  When you were fucking me, I enjoyed it
but because mostly because I hoped you were getting pleasure from it.  And,
it was a kind of joining between us that we hadn't experienced before.
Does that make any sense?"
   He didn't answer right away.  He was too busy analyzing the complex
dynamics of two loving partners fucking each other.  Eventually, he said,
"When a man and a woman fuck, they can both have an orgasm, right?"
   "Right," I replied, not sure of where his analysis had led him.  "I'm
told that a woman doesn't have an orgasm as often as the man but if the man
cares and tries, they can both have an orgasm."
   "Maybe that's the point," he wondered out loud.  "When a man and a
woman fuck -- assuming they love each other -- they are doing it together.
Each one is hoping the other will be satisfied but also being satisfied.
It's different when two men fuck, isn't it?  The one doing the fucking is
in it just for his pleasure.  The other one is just there to ... well ...
provide a convenient hole."
   I had never thought so rationally or objectively about sex, much less
had a conversation about it.  But that was one of the many things I admired
in Luiz.  He could be, at times, sexy, erotic, and passionate.  At other
times, he was playful and fun-loving.  Still other times, like now, he was
thoughtful and analytic.  I felt I was out of my league in analyzing things
but I ventured to say, "When we suck each other, it's just one of us that
enjoys the orgasm."
   "That's different," he quickly replied.  "When you suck me, you're very
much part of it.  You're actively doing things that give me pleasure.  You
do it because you love me.  You're not just lying there with your mouth
open to put my cock in.  It's the same with me.  When I suck you, it's like
I'm in charge.  I'm not doing it to you, I'm doing it for you, but I'm
doing it."
   It took me a little more thought to catch up to Luiz's reasoning and I
wasn't sure that I had but I asked, "So does that mean you don't want to
fuck again?"
   "I didn't say that," he replied.  He looked at me and I noticed a hint
of his wicked grin returning.  "A wise man taught me about sex and love.
He said that sex is okay ... if the men agree to it ... but that sex as a
part of love is far better.  He also told me that even when two men love
each other, it's good sometimes to have just sex, to have fun."  He looked
at me briefly for my reaction and added with a smile, "You weren't lying to
me, were you, Jake?"
   I had to smile, quite broadly, partly because I knew that Luiz had not
vetoed anal sex in the future but mostly because I was so very proud of
Luiz's mind that could intellectually dissect a situation and still have
room for emotional and sensual thoughts.  "No," I began. "I didn't lie to
you.  Never have.  Never will.  But that wise man you mentioned is not
nearly as wise as you are."
   Before I fell asleep, I thought of Mrs. White's comment.  Luiz would,
indeed, make an exceptionally good trial lawyer ... or almost anything else
he wanted to be.