Date: Mon, 20 Jul 1998 18:09:46 GMT From: Jeremy Smith <ghost397@hotmail.com> Subject: Midwest Dreams This is a work of fiction (fantasy really ; ). The characters portrayed here are real people whose names have been changed to protect the innocent and myself. This work contains sexually explicit passages between two males. If that kind of thing isn't for you, or if this material is considered illegal in your place of residence, or if you are under that arbitrary age the government seems to think is when people are ready to read about sex, you are hereby directed to turn back now or delete this file if you've managed to get it on your hard drive (and in the future you really ought to be more careful what you download!). What follows is a story that began filling my head about a week ago. I had run across this archive and skimmed a few of the stories. One caught my eye, about a football player who confessed to his friend and teammate that he was gay. That author did an excellent job, and it sparked this in my mind. This is a story not about sex, but friendship and love. If all you're interested in is sex you might as well just skip to the last three pages or so right now. I am a writer, but this is my first attempt at erotic fiction. I would appreciate any feedback (no flames please, just constructive criticism) if you happen to read this in the next six months or so. I'm dating the file as 8/1/98, so if you want to contact me email at ghost397@hotmail.com By the way, if there is interest (or if the idea appeals to me more than it does at the moment), I already have an outline of a part two. MIDWEST DREAMS "Why the hell do I do this to myself," I muttered as I pedaled and grunted my way up a hill nearly half a mile long. Truth is I knew why I was doing it, because I considered myself very out of shape for a 21-year-old. At almost exactly six foot, I weigh 140 pounds and neither gain nor lose weight no matter what I eat. Don't get me wrong, I'm not that bad looking I guess (and so I've been told). Brown eyes, very dark blond hair, fairly thin and wiry; I've always had a runner's frame. Funny thing is I was never an athlete. All through high school, I didn't do anything until my senior year when I finally convinced myself (with some outside help) to join the track team. After that one season, I regretted not having joined a lot earlier because it was so fun. But I graduated and moved on to college. Never one to hit the weight room (even though I kept telling myself to do so), I just did sit-ups and push-ups on my own. During the summers I would go on bike rides almost every afternoon to get some exercise and tan. Which is exactly why I was out in the middle of nowhere, sweating my way up a really steep and long hill. I come from the Midwest, and any time other than when I'm riding, I'll be the first to tell you it's flat as hell out here. When I'm biking around the county though, it's an entirely different story. So when I finally reached the crest of the hill, I stopped in a bit of shade to drink some water and catch my breath. As I looked around I noticed a truck coming down the road towards me, and moved over a little more out of the way. The truck slowed down anyway, and then I realized it was Justin, whose house I had just happened to stop right next to. I froze for a moment. I suppose I ought to explain who Justin is. Well he first moved to our small rural school (like fewer than 1000 total students) when I was a junior. He's three years younger than I, so that made him an eighth grader at the time and I didn't really pay a whole lot of attention to him. The following year I was a photographer for the school, and it was while covering cross-country meets I really noticed him. I mean, before he'd caught my eye as a pretty hot looking kid. Don't get me wrong, it's not like I was drooling after him and wanting to rip his clothes off or something. I just happen to notice guys who, in my opinion, are better looking than me because I often wish I looked like they do. On that particular list of people, Justin was very high up. Well I had friends on the team, and we got introduced eventually. He seemed like a pretty cool guy, if a little quiet. Then came Spring, and track season; wouldn't you know it, he joined the team just like I did. Baseball had really taken a hit on our track team that year because there were only twelve of us. It was my first team sport, particularly for a school. Yeah, you guessed it: that means locker room incidents. Well of course I'd glance at him once in a while, just like I did a couple of the other guys. I'm sure they did too, after all it's that male thing where we all have to know just how we compare. To my knowledge, nobody ever saw anybody else naked; showers were usually just at home after practice. Now I already had problems with my reputation. I was never a jock or really a part of the 'in' crowd. I'm the geek. Not the kind that looks the part with glasses and all, but the kind who just knows too damn much for his own good. That's part of the reason I was never going out with anyone. The other part is that all the good material was taken. Of course, this just builds up the reputation even more. You know what I'm talking about. I'd hear it all the time: "he's gay" or "he has got to be a fag." No one ever really said it to my face, unless they were kidding (or as an insult), and I doubt that many people truly believed it. But in a hick school, that is one of the fastest ways to hit the bottom of the feeding chain. And if you're on a sports team, you better be damn careful of every move you make. I, being the book-smart idiot that I am, wasn't. There was one guy on the team in a grade between Justin and I that just had it in for me. If there was an insult flying my way, he was the most likely source of it. His name was Derek, and I couldn't stand him. He was also the first one to start openly calling me a fag. Openly to everyone else that is. By the end of the season I'm sure he had at least half of the team convinced I was. After all, it's not like I didn't unwittingly do my best to help him out. Everyone catches everyone else glancing at people, it's just usually you don't say anything about it unless something else happens. With me, the first something else that happened was a comment that I made while we were at practice. Maybe I even said it on more than one occasion, just a remark about why hadn't Justin taken his shirt off (like the majority of the rest of us). I said something like, "hey, why pass up an opportunity to get a little darker?" Not that he had any need to do so at all. The second (and by far the most important) something else was an English assignment I had written. We had to describe a person twice using only physical characteristics; once using normal adjectives and the other more visual phrases like similes. Because of what had happened the afternoon before at practice, I chose Justin. I'd seen the girls staring up at us in the weight room from the basketball court, and it all just kind of sprung from there. "I have heard it said by several girls that he is cute or handsome. He is only 15 or 16 and is just beginning to lose his boyish looks. He is an average height for his age, about 5'6". Athletic and muscular is the best way to describe his physique. Unlike most kids his age, his muscle tone is full, rather than sinuous or wiry. He has a dark complexion. Even in the middle of winter his tan is nearly perfect. His hair is dark brown as are his eyes. His voice has not yet changed, but the embarrassing cracking does not show up very often. "As the girls look on from below, he lifts weights for practice on the upper deck. They love his boyish looks. Even older girls would date the 15-year-old if it weren't for the age difference. His 5'6" athletic frame is more muscular than sinuous or wiry. As he runs his laps shirtless, the girls nearly swoon over his perfect tan, which survives intact through winter because of his dark complexion. With his gentle but handsome face, dark brown hair, and eyes like pools of liquid brown, he will always be the boy of some girl's dreams." Now you know why I thought he was hot; unfortunately, so would the rest of the track team in a couple of days. You see, while waiting after school for practice to start I had been working on the assignment when one of the other guys came up and asked me what I was doing. "Writing a description of him for English," I said, as I pointed at Justin who was just walking up. Should have just kept my mouth shut, but no... So he asked to read it when I was done, which I just about was. I finished and handed it over. I pride myself on my writing; it's one of the things I can do really well. This time though, I did too good of a job. He started laughing a little, though he said it was really good. Then he called Justin over and handed it to him. I thought nothing of it really, as my notebook made it's way around the half of the team that had already shown up. It was either later that day, or maybe the next (I can't really remember), when I figured out that I had royally screwed up. About half way through practice, the guy who had originally asked to see my notebook came up to me with this grin on his face. Twenty yards behind him I could see a group of four other team members watching, including Justin and Derek. Something was not right, and from the grin on my approaching teammate's face, I knew exactly what it was. He didn't waste much time getting to the point. After a brief greeting, he started right in. "Hey man, can I ask you something?" he said. I looked at him for a second and said in a guarded tone, "Sure, what?" "Do you, you know, like Justin?" Fortunately, I'd seen it coming and it didn't catch me off guard or anything. I knew exactly what he meant by the way he'd emphasized the word 'like'. "I like Justin as a friend... not like you're thinking," I replied. Truth was I liked Justin a little more than that, but I wasn't about to go into it with anybody else. Mostly it was just that I hated what hanging around Derek seemed to do to him: drinking, smoking, and getting the wrong ideas about me. He was too nice of a kid (from what I knew anyway) to throw himself away like that (I also suspected drugs were there too). Ok, I'll get off my soapbox and get on with it. My teammate said hey, he was just asking, then turned and went back to the group. I didn't watch. I didn't need to, because I knew most of them had already made up their minds what they thought, and whatever I said wouldn't have made any difference at all. I was branded now if I hadn't been before, and I knew it. The rest of track went on like usual I guess. There continued to be a few comments, but nothing worse than before really. I still had fun, and would still do it all over again. At the end of that Spring, I graduated 4th in my class and moved on to college. I didn't really expect to see many people from school ever again. I had no intention of going back for any reason. But the road to hell is paved with good intentions, as they say. So there I was, propped against my bike at the end of Justin's driveway, recovering from that damn hill as he pulled up. I had last seen him a few weeks before, when I had gone to the high school graduation for a friend who happened to be in Justin's class. Or should I say whose class Justin just happened to be in. He still looked as good as ever, and the only thing that had changed was his hair. He'd dyed the top of it to blond with a reddish tint. It looked good on him. If anything, it made him hotter than he was before. As I usually do whenever I run into someone I know, but isn't a really good friend, I went on guard mode (more commonly known as acting cool): casually ignored that he was even there and took a long drink. Of course I was still watching him out of the corner of my eye. When I noticed he was looking at me, I gave him a short wave, which he returned. Then I returned my water bottle to its holder and prepared to shove off. I was more than a little surprised when Justin stopped the truck at the end of his driveway and leaned a little ways out of the window. "Hey," he said. "Hey," I replied. My guard level went up a notch. I hadn't expected him to say anything at all to me, and doubted if he would even remember who I was. Then again, it is kind of hard to forget a person if you believe them to be gay and have a thing for you. I knew that, and being the paranoid person I am, immediately started thinking, "trap!" "What are you doing clear out here?" he asked. "Just getting some exercise and working on a tan. What are you up to?" I replied, sounding casual... I hoped. "Coming home to get some lunch. Been working in the fields all day." His father had a farm, which of course he helped out on. "Ain't you got a job?" "Yeah, but I'm taking classes and that limits me to twenty hours a week. I work in the mornings and have afternoons off," I said a little defensively. I had no idea where this was going, or for that matter where it had even come from. Besides, I'd had enough insults from the people at my high school when I was going there. I sure didn't need any more now. "No second job?" "Couldn't find one." I knew I was getting a little short, but I was ready for either a point or to move on. I still had no idea why Justin was so interested in my career at the moment. "Well hey... Would you want to work for my dad? We're getting ready to start bailing hay and Sparks (another guy from the school) was going to do it, but he called out and now we're short." Whoa! Here I was getting annoyed at his questions and the whole time he wants to find out if I want a job! Of course I did, because the university didn't pay squat and limited my hours besides. I had been looking for a second job, but couldn't find one that met my requirements. For the first time during the entire conversation, I actually started to smile. "How much?" I asked. "Ten an hour. It'll only be for a week or two though, and only in the afternoons. Hay has to dry out before we can bail it, but that shouldn't be a problem since you said you were working and taking classes in the morning anyway." "Deal. When and where?" "I'll pick you up here about this time tomorrow. I come back to get lunch about 3 before going out to the field. Cool?" "Very. I'll be here. Thanks man, I could use the cash." "And we could use the help. No problem, I'll see you tomorrow afternoon." "See you then," I said as Justin pulled on into the drive and I began pedaling my way home. I pulled into Justin's driveway the next afternoon right at three. He was just coming out of the house with a paper bag. Shirtless and in jeans and work boots, I could see that he hadn't changed much proportionally. He was taller now, about my height, but still pretty muscular. Not ripped or anything, but the six was there. Farm work will do that to a person, which was another reason I'd taken the job. It'd be better than just biking around the county. Compared to me though, Justin was what some people would call a hunk. He was damn hot, and I knew I was attracted to him. Oh, that's right, I suppose I ought to explain that one. Well it just so happens that in the three years since I'd graduated I had changed a bit. After a lot of thought, I came to the conclusion that I was bisexual. Probably always had been, but wouldn't admit it to myself (and still wouldn't to anyone else). I knew for sure that I wasn't gay. I was still more than interested in girls. But I also came to realize that I was also just a bit interested in guys, or at least some of them. "Dad's lunch," Justin said, holding up the bag. "You ready to go?" "Yeah," I replied, trying not to stare at him. Perhaps this hadn't been a good idea. Surely he had to remember all that crap from track. But he'd still made the offer... "You planning on wearing that?" he asked, pointing at my clothes. I had dressed in a white T-shirt, jeans, and my hiking boots. I knew it was going to be hot, but I'd been warned before about wearing shorts. Bailing hay can be really scratchy work. "I'll probably loose the shirt later, but yeah. Why, something wrong?" "No, that's what I meant. If you're not going to wear a shirt you better have sun block on or you'll fry. And sunburn is not a fun thing to have when lifting a bale, trust me. I toasted myself the last time because I forgot the block." Now he had seen me yesterday without a shirt, biking around the county in the middle of the afternoon, and obviously wasn't burned. Of course I knew enough to wear sun block. "I ain't wearing any at the moment, but I have it in the truck. I knew I'd be needing it, after all you can't be this light and not learn a few things," I said, grinning. Actually, I'd already regained about half of my tan that had been lost over the winter. However, I was still nowhere near as dark as Justin was. The curse of not having a dark complexion, I guess. "Well put it on now and save the trouble forgetting it later." I reached into my truck and pulled out the bottle, using the mirror so I could cover my face. Interesting bit of concern on Justin's part, I thought. True, there's no point in hiring me and then I not being able to work more than a day because I got fried, but still... You'd think we were old friends or something, and it's not like we even really hung out together aside from the track season, which was three years ago anyway. And then it was just practices and meet along with the occasional ride home. I pulled my shirt over my head and began covering my arms and chest as Justin threw the bag with his dad's lunch in his pickup. As I began to try and cover my back I felt his hands start spreading the coconut scented stuff for me. "Here, let me. It'll be faster and we're already running a little late," he said. I just let my hands fall to my side as he rubbed the sun block onto my back. This was weird, at least for me. I know it sounds like a common enough thing for somebody to do. But you see, I don't have a lot of physical contact with people, so having anyone touch me is a little strange. And here was Justin, a guy that I was more than a little attracted to massaging my back. All I can say is he has strong hands, because I was too nervous and tense with the thoughts racing through my mind to enjoy it really. Then I noticed something that seemed a little strange. It was taking just a little too long, and Justin's hands were slowing down ever so slightly. "Uh, that ought to do it. If you rub the stuff in too much it looses half its effectiveness," I said. I wasn't sure if I regretted saying anything or not. And I was even more unsure of exactly what was going on, or if I was imagining the whole thing. He took his hands away and casually wiped them on his jeans, not looking the least bit like anything was out of the ordinary. "Really? I never heard that," he said, walking back over to his truck and getting in. "Well you might remember that I was always too damn smart for my own good," I replied. "I seem to pick up more little bits of information and trivia than anyone would ever have need for." That's my typical defense mechanism kicking in there: put myself down to get others to laugh at or like me. I threw the sun block in my truck and got in Justin's, and we headed out to the field. The rest of the week was pretty much the same. I'd meet Justin at his house, then we would take his truck out to whichever field his dad was running the baler in that day. Then he or his dad would drive the tractor down the rows pulling a flatbed trailer. I would walk alongside and throw the bales up onto the trailer and whoever wasn't driving would be standing on the trailer stacking the bales. Since this was the first time I'd ever done this kind of work, I didn't know how to stack the bales on the trailer, which is why I wasn't up there. It looked easy enough, but if you didn't do it right the whole thing would fall over and you'd have to start again. I also didn't want to drive the tractor, since I'd never really done that either. I was happy enough walking alongside and picking up bales. We usually started about three and finished at dark. In five days we covered four different fields and filled about seven trailers. When we filled one, we'd pull it to the corner of the field and start on another. Friday evening as we were driving back to Justin's house, I was dead tired. Fieldwork was starting to catch up with me. Over the past few days Justin and I had talked quite a bit, as you might imagine, actually getting to know each other. Caught up on what we'd been doing the past three years, where he was going to college, and other things. Strangely enough, the track season we ran together never came up, though we talked about quite a few other things relating to the school. We pulled in to his driveway and I got out and headed to my truck to go home and take a much-needed shower. Justin's dad was right behind us. As I was getting in, he said to hold up a minute and called Justin over. "Boys I've got good news and bad news," he said. I just looked at him, waiting for him to go on. He was a nice guy, though I didn't really talk to him all that much. I wasn't sure what was up. "The good news is, we're almost done. If you don't mind working on a Saturday Travis, we'll finish things up tomorrow. All we have to do get the hay into the barn and delivered." Justin groaned. "I hate working on the weekends Dad," he said. "Well tough, you don't have a choice. Besides, I'm paying you anyway." He looked at me. "So, are you willing to work a Saturday?" "Sure, why not. What time do you want me here?" I replied. "We'll start at seven in the morning." "I'll be here then. So what was the bad news?" "Well, we're almost done, so I won't be needing the extra hand. But you've worked pretty hard this week, and Justin tells me you've never done this before, so I'm going to give you a bonus. How's a hundred sound?" That lightened my mood a bit. I told him it was more than enough, thanked him a couple of times, then got and my truck and went home. After eating and showering, I went straight to bed. It was going to be a long day tomorrow. By seven the next morning, we had already started. The sun had been up for about half an hour and was rapidly losing its orange glow. Not a cloud in sight, and the temperature had already reached about eighty. It was going to be a really hot day. The first part was easy enough. Four of the trailers were actually from other farms, and all we had to do was deliver them. Justin and I took the pickup and hauled two of them out to a farm just off the highway several miles away. Meanwhile his dad took a third to another farm just up the road using the tractor. Even though all we had to do was park the trailers in a barn it still took almost two hours by the time we had gotten the fourth one to yet a third farm. It might not look like it, but those hay wagons weigh a lot. A couple of tons, in fact, which meant that it was slow driving and maneuvering. When we returned for the last three trailers, Justin's dad was waiting on us. He'd already hooked two up to the tractor, and when we arrived the last one was put on the truck. All of them were headed for the barns behind Justin's house, down in the valley. As we pulled up next to the older of the two barns, Justin looked at me and grinned. "Here is where the actual work starts. I hope you aren't too sore from yesterday," he said. "Not really. I was a little stiff this morning, but I'm fine now. Why, what's so difficult about this?" I replied. "Well, two of these are going in the loft of that barn," he said, pointing to the older, more traditional barn. "The third goes in with the horses, and depending on Dad's mood, we may or may not have to actually unload it." We got out of the truck and walked over to the barn. I was very glad to see that at least there was a conveyer running to the loft. Lifting two trailers worth of that stuff into a two story high loft was not my idea of fun. Justin's dad had gotten off the tractor and walked over to join us. "Okay guys, hit the ladder. Justin, I want you to start on the west end this time, and go about six deep. Seven if you have room, but I don't really think we'll need to," he said. I was hoping we wouldn't, because six bales high was already a good shove over my head. Justin and I went inside and climbed into the loft, opening the door to the outside. His dad already had the conveyer in place and was ready to start throwing bales on. Justin told him we were ready, and off we went. I let him take the first, then grabbed the second as it followed a few seconds later. Following Justin across the loft, I watched how he put the bale down and began to start a row across the west wall in the same way. Which is how it went for the next two and a half hours; constantly moving back and forth, throwing bales down and then eventually up. It was a steady pace, because it's a lot easier to put the bales on to the conveyer than it is to take them off and stack them. Even though it was a large loft (compared to what I'd seen in my limited experience), we still filled it up rather quickly. At least that's what I thought until I bothered to look down at the trailer and saw that we'd only gotten about three quarters of the first one done. By then it was at least ninety outside and probably well into the hundreds in that loft. Justin and I were both dripping sweat, not to mention rapidly running out of room on the west half of the loft. As it filled more and more, quarters got cramped enough we started brushing against each other moving back and forth. I was too much into the task to notice it though. Right about the time I was beginning to get concerned about stacking ourselves out of the loft, Justin called down to his dad and said we were out of room. "Alright, take a break then and I'll be up in a second," he said, shutting off the conveyer. "Gladly," I panted as I half stumbled over to the loft door and sat down, dangling my legs out and trying to catch a breeze. I picked up the cooler next to me and took a long swig of what had started as about a gallon of ice water. Now there was no ice left at all and it was less than half full. Justin heaved a deep sigh as he sat beside me. Then he leaned around my back reaching for his own cooler. This time I noticed when he brushed against me. How could I not considering he was practically lying across my back, both of us slick with sweat. That first day came flashing back to me, when he had been spreading sun block over my back, and for a second I began to wonder again if maybe I hadn't been imagining things. Especially since he seemed to be an awful long time in reaching that cooler. "Nngh," I sort of grunted, trying to swallow the water I was chugging and talk at the same time. I lowered the cooler a little quick, spilling cold water on my chest. "You make me lean any farther out this loft dude and I'm going to be on the ground." "Sorry," he said, giving one last push and finally catching the handle. As he sat back up and took a drink I saw him look at me out of the corner of my eye. Neither of us were wearing sunglasses since we were inside the barn, so there wasn't any of the hiding of glances as I will admit I had a few times while we'd been working in the field. I didn't say anything though, because to tell you the truth I kind of liked him looking at me. It didn't appear to be one of those looks I was so used to getting, the ones that say 'man he's weird.' Not that it lasted all that long either, as he quickly joined me in looking out over the valley. A few seconds later we heard his dad clumping up the ladder. Neither of us got up, we just half turned and looked over our shoulders. "Not bad," came the report. "Ought to be able to fit the rest of this one in here," he said, looking over to the slightly shorter east side of the barn. We had just started in on the second trailer, and made a small dent in its load. "We'll go ahead and break for lunch, then finish this up. Justin, when we start back up I want you to go ahead and start over on the other side, but just take it out to here and then let me know. The rest we'll put in the stable." I hadn't brought any lunch, for some strange reason not thinking I'd need any. However, by now I was starving, so I was really happy when Justin's dad offered to go get us something in town since he didn't feel like fixing anything. Oh yeah, I guess that slipped my mind. Justin's parents are divorced, and he didn't really move here, he just came back to live with his dad. After deciding on some Taco Bell, we told his dad what we wanted and he headed in to town to get it. That left Justin and I with at least half an hour break before he got back, if not more. I turned half way around and leaned against the side of the door, one leg hanging out of the loft and the other propped up resting my arm on it. With head leaned back and eyes closed, I just sat and listened to the breeze. I heard Justin take another drink and set the cooler down. Mine was already shoved back out of the way. For a while there was just quiet. I wondered if Justin had fallen asleep or something, and without tilting my head forward I half opened my eyes. It came as no small surprise to me when I saw that he was staring at me, and not with that distant, unfocused kind of look either. Then he noticed I could see him and looked away. "What?" I asked. "Nothing," he said. "Sorry, must have phased out there for a second." Now I knew that wasn't true, but I didn't say anything, instead just closing my eyes again. After another short pause, he spoke up again. "Can I ask you something?" he said. "Sure, what?" I replied. It might be a measure of how much I had gotten to know Justin over the past week that I didn't immediately snap into suspicious mode. "How did you get that scar?" "Which?" I had a couple of small ones from various incidents growing up, one more noticeable that the rest. I figured that was the one he was talking about, but I thought I'd make sure. I nearly fell out the loft when I started as he traced a line over my eye. For some reason I had expected him just to say "the one above your eye," and I hadn't heard him move at all. "Sorry," he said quickly, half catching my arm. "No problem, it doesn't hurt or anything. I just thought it was a horsefly or something at first." Hell yes I was lying, what did you think I'd do, tell him I liked his touch and to do it again? Because that's exactly what I was thinking. Like I told you earlier, I don't have much physical contact with people. When I do, and I get past that initial weird feeling, it's kind of nice. "Well, I'd love to be able to tell you it came from a fight when a guy pulled a knife on me, but unfortunately it's a little more mundane than that. I got hit with a rock about the size of your fist when I was about eleven or so." "Damn, that must have hurt." "Actually, it didn't really. I got a hell of a headache, and I think I was knocked out for a few seconds, but it never really hurt that bad. My mom didn't think I needed to go to the doctor and just cleaned it up and had me lay down with ice on it for a while. So I didn't get stitches and ended up with a scar." "Well that sucks. It doesn't look too bad though." "Yeah, I don't mind it. Makes for an interesting conversation piece, because when I first meet people I catch them staring at it a lot." I stood up and stretched because I could already feel myself getting a little stiff. Walking over to the ladder, I propped one arm on each handrail and looked down into the barn, which was fairly empty. "Don't keep much in here do you?" "Well most of the equipment goes in here when it isn't being used," Justin replied. I heard him get up and come to stand behind me. "It never really gets full though." I became aware of just how close he was standing to me a moment later when I shifted my weight and bumped into him. He was just behind me and to my left, and when I shifted my weight from one foot to the other he almost fell into me. Instead, he put his hand on my shoulder to keep from falling any farther forward while I braced my arms against the rails to keep from going over the edge. This time, I knew for absolute certain that it was not my imagination when his hand trailed slowly down my back and then actually paused for a moment on my ass. I slowly stood up and turned around to see he had taken a step back and was half grinning at me. Attempting to keep a perfectly straight face and remain calm (in reality my heartbeat had just was close to about doubling at the moment), I looked Justin in the eyes and said, quietly, "What are you doing?" "C'mon," he said, "Dad's gone and won't be back for a while, we're the only ones here." "And your point?" At this moment, I'm sure you're wondering just what the hell I was doing. I've already said I found Justin attractive, and here he was making a proverbial move on me. So why was I responding so coolly, as opposed to jumping at the opportunity that appeared to be presenting itself? Well, you might recall I said I was the suspicious type. Right then my guard level was as high as it gets, where it had jumped from the moment he put his hand on my back. My mind was screaming 'Trap!' about as loud it could, and I was trying to figure out where the camera was. I began to think the whole thing had been a set up (at least on Justin's part for picking me for the job) so that he and whichever friends working with him could somehow prove me gay or something. Yes, I am paranoid. But it's saved my ass more than a few times, and I'm not talking things like this. "My point is we can do whatever we want because there isn't anyone here. I know you've got it for me, I've seen you looking," Justin said, still grinning at me. This was not good. I was not in control of the situation and could very easily get burned. Fortunately, I am very good at thinking quickly and had just discovered a way to both cover myself and find out if he were telling the truth. What would happen if he were, I didn't want to consider at the moment. "Look Justin, yes I think you're hot. Only and idiot or someone with very poor taste would say different. But that doesn't mean I want to 'do' anything with you. I am not now, nor have I ever been, gay," I said. The grin was beginning to fade from his face. "But what about all that shit back in high school? Everyone said you were gay. And during track you were always looking at me, even the other guys on the team saw it." "And you believed them? Hell, the other guys on the team talked a lot of shit that wasn't true; you had to know that. Yes, I looked at you. Do you have any idea what I would have given to look like you, the guy who had girls in MY grade, three years older than you, wanting you?" At this point I was getting a little loud, and sort of angry. It was helping my case greatly, I thought, because Justin began looking a little on the nervous side. I was fairly certain by then he was telling the truth, and it wasn't some kind of trap. "So you never wanted to screw around with me." Knowing I couldn't answer without either lying or giving myself away, I just stood there looking at him. He didn't say anything for a moment, looking away. "Alright, you got me. I was just trying to find out if you really were or not, and I guess they were wrong," he said, turning to face me with a very weak grin on his face. One look at his eyes and I knew he was lying. And I was about to make sure he knew that I knew. "Bullshit. You're lying. You really did think I was gay and you wanted to screw around before your dad gets back. And that proves it," I said, pointing. Justin didn't even bother to look where I was pointing at the front of his jeans. He knew better than I did what the rapidly disappearing bulge there was. Gone was the grin on his face. He was very worried, and in his eyes there was nothing but panic. I was completely sure of myself now, and Justin almost looked like he was going to cry. He turned away and said very quietly, "Please don't tell anyone. You can't man..." There were two thoughts in my mind at that time. The first was why was he even asking. He was a good deal stronger than I and could probably have taken me, though I would probably do some damage. I've never been in a real fight, but I know enough that if I were to get in one I wouldn't be wasting time worrying about fairness. But the second and more overriding thought was he was actually scared that I was going to talk. I guess I can really act. However, you all know that since I was now sure he was serious and telling the truth that I wasn't about to pass this up. Neither am I really the kind of person to torture someone like that, not when he was totally defenseless. I stepped closer to him and put my left hand on his shoulder to turn him around and then put my right hand on his other shoulder, looking him right in the face. God he looked so hot, and his shoulders were as solid as bricks. "Justin," I said quietly. "Look at me." He turned his head and we were staring each other right in the eye. Even if I hadn't been attracted to him, unless I had actually totally hated him, I would never have said a word to anyone. "I promise you that I won't ever tell anyone about this." Then I did something he obviously wasn't ready for (and I wasn't sure I was either for that matter). Turning my head slightly to the side, I leaned over and kissed him softly, right on the lips. It wasn't a very deep or long kiss because he barely responded (other than his eyes going wide right as I leaned over). After just a second I let him go and stepped back. As you might imagine, he looked confused. "But you said you weren't..." Justin trailed off, staring at me. "I said I wasn't gay, and I'm not. I said nothing about not being bi," I replied, grinning a little. From here I wasn't sure where to go, so I decided to let the next move be his. And he sat down on a nearby bale, looking at me. I wasn't sure if he was pissed at me or what, but I went over and sat next to him. "Then why did you just go through that whole straighter than an arrow act? Why didn't you just go along with what I did? Do you have any idea how scared shitless you just made me?" he asked. "I'm sorry about that. Really, I am. But I figured the whole thing was a trap, and you either had a camera up here somewhere or someone watching. I'm paranoid, and if you remember track as well as you say, you probably know why." "I guess, but still... you didn't have to scare me like that." "I had to be sure you weren't acting just as much as I was. Like I said, I thought it was a setup. I'm sorry, but I had to know." "So you really are attracted to me... you'd want to screw around?" "Justin, I would have probably done anything from shortly after we met. You're very attractive. What I don't understand is why me? I know I can't be that attractive to you, and we weren't that good of friends because of all the rumors and Derek." "Why you is easy enough. You're the only person here I was sure... at least I thought was gay. At least the only person I'd even think about. You aren't as bad looking as you think. I figured since it was pretty much known you had a thing for me, it wouldn't be that hard to start something." I didn't say anything for a moment, trying to take things in. Then I put my arm around his shoulders. He tensed at first, then relaxed. "Guess I rattled you quite a bit huh," I said. Justin nodded in reply. "I'm really sorry about that." Using the hand I had around him, I turned his head to face me and again leaned in to kiss him. This time he did respond, if a little slowly at first. I closed my eyes and just enjoyed it for a moment, his scent (which I guess would have been more like a reek by then, but I was in no better shape), and the taste of his lips and mouth. The senses other than the eyes are so much more intense. I hadn't kissed many people before, in fact it was probably fewer than ten and none of them guys. After a little less than a minute, I broke off and looked at him. "There is one thing," I said. "I have a rule that if you want something you have to be willing to do it first, but you can't expect the other person to be willing just because you are." Yes, I was still a little on the paranoid side. Justin nodded, then looked at me for a moment. "You mean you have done this before?" he asked. "Well that's a rule I keep with everyone. With women it shows you as a sensitive guy. No matter how much you might like it or want it, some women just will not go down on you." "I know. Been there." I'll bet you have, I thought, but all I said was "My advice in a case like that is to find another woman." He laughed a little. "But that's not what you really asked. Yes, I have been with other guys. Three to be exact, two of them so long ago I don't really remember anything (we're talking like before Jr. High here), and the third during high school. As a matter of fact, it was only about six months before I got on the track team that we quit." I was surprised that Justin didn't ask who it was. Instead, he only looked at the floor for a minute, then looked out the door of the loft. "I've only been alone with one other guy and that was a long time ago. Playing 'doctor' or something. There were a couple of circle jerks in high school but nothing more," he said. I immediately wondered who that was, but since he hadn't asked, neither would I. "I guess I've just always wondered what it would be like with a guy. I mean I like girls and all, but..." He trailed off and I pulled him a little closer, enjoying more than he would ever know the contact between us. "You don't have to explain Justin. I sort of already know," I said, smiling. "Who knows, you might be bi like I am. There isn't anything wrong with it, and if it weren't for the fact you're from my old school, I'd probably have come right out and told you up front." Justin put his arm around me and we just sat there for a moment. Then he turned and kissed me. On the lips at first, with more than a little tongue play. I guess either he had decided he had to make the first move from there, or he was just getting impatient. He pushed me back against another bale into a half reclining position and began to slowly kiss his way downward, beginning with my neck. I closed my eyes as he paused at my nipples, and then again at my navel. He was good, real good. But then, if you think about it, there are only two acts that have to be different between members of the same sex as opposed to the opposite. By the time Justin reached the limits of my jeans, I was already at least half hard, and he could tell. Slowly he began to undo the button and zipper, looking up at me. I just watched, thinking all the while how hot he looked. He began to pull down on my jeans and boxers, and I lifted up to help. And then I was laying back, jeans almost at my knees and getting harder by the second. There was a pause as he stared at me for a moment, then bent over and slowly took me into his mouth. It took quite a bit of effort not to go off right then. But I wanted this to last. As Justin began to work his way up and down, it seemed to me that he was hesitant. "You've never done this before, have you?" I asked, already knowing the answer. He pulled off and said, "No. Not with a guy, not really." He almost sounded embarrassed or ashamed or something. "Hey, it's okay. I'll tell you what, get up here and I'll do you first," I said, sitting up. As he moved up on the bale, I stood and pulled my jeans back up. It would give me a chance to calm down a little anyway. Kneeling on one knee next to Justin, I began just as he had, kissing him on the lips again. Breaking for a moment, I looked him in the eyes again and said, "Don't worry about it, there is a first time for everything after all." And with that I gave him a long and deep french. From there I began to work my way down, just as he had, with small kisses all over his neck and chest, focusing on his nipples and navel. I went a little slower though, nibbling here and there, and wherever my mouth wasn't, my hands were. As I mentioned earlier, the eyes are the least impressive of the senses. His broad and very tan chest was also very smooth and nearly hairless. The muscles under my roaming hands were very firm. Still glistening with sweat, he tasted a little salty and... There just isn't any way to really describe it; each person has his or her own distinct scent and taste, and right then I was enjoying every bit of Justin's. I could hear his breathing, slightly ragged as his chest rose and fell, and even felt some of his heartbeats. As I began to unbutton his jeans, still kissing his stomach, I looked up at his face. It will forever be frozen in my mind, the closed eye look of peaceful ecstasy there. Sliding his jeans and boxers down, I got my first look at something I had wanted to see several years ago after I first met Justin. I was right in thinking there would not be much of a tan line given his dark complexion. Apparently he enjoyed what I had been doing for the last few minutes, because he was hard as a rock. We are probably about the same size, and he is cut like I am. I could see it pulsing with his heartbeat, and leaned over to kiss the head before taking the tip into my mouth. Justin moaned lightly as I licked the head slowly, then trailed my tongue down the underside of his shaft. I was by no means a pro at this, having been with only one other guy and that nearly five years ago. But I remembered things, and I knew what I liked. Evidently so did Justin, because he definitely wasn't complaining. Deciding to start in earnest, I slowly took as much of his length as I could into my mouth, one hand on his chest and the other between his legs. Then I pulled off just as slowly, running the full length of my tongue along the underside of his shaft. With the rhythm started, I gradually picked up the pace, tweaking my tongue here and there, focusing on the line of skin right at the base of the head where it is most sensitive. For Justin's part, he mostly lay there quietly shuddering with his eyes closed, moaning softly once in while. That suited me fine, because I've always thought that noisy sex was a bit too much of a circus. I felt him begin to tense even more in that precursor to an orgasm. Slowing a little, I moved both hands to his smooth, firm ass. I could feel the muscles there clenching and relaxing as my mouth regained its former rhythm and even picked up the pace a little. Justin moaned a little louder, and I knew he was very close. I felt it starting as all his muscles tightened, and I think he tried to warn me. However, I already knew and had slowed down to half as fast as before, making more use of my tongue than moving up and down. The first spurt was harder than I thought it would be, and then they slowed and decreased in pressure as my mouth filled with his warm salty fluids. I swallowed what I could, the first time I had ever done so though I often thought about it. I continued to work him over, as he slowly became soft again, holding his ass tightly with both hands. When I pulled off of him and up onto the bale next to him, I heard him sigh deeply. His eyes were still closed and his face... I loved that face, the knowing that I could do something like that to someone. Slowly he opened his eyes and turned to look at me. "That was the best I have ever had. I can't believe another guy could be that good," Justin said. "Well they say it takes a guy to know what another guy wants," I said, smiling. "But it's not like I've done it all that much, and it's been more than four or five years since I did. And that's the first time I've ever swallowed." "Oh man, I'm sorry, I tried to tell you but I couldn't..." "Don't worry about it. I knew it was coming and I wanted to." I leaned over and kissed him deeply again, pulling him close and letting him sample the taste of his fluids in my mouth. When he broke off and sat up, I almost protested. I could have lain there in each other's arms for a lot longer than that. Justin had other ideas though, as the hand he slid down my shorts could attest to. I was still more than half hard, but no longer as close as I had been the first time. When we'd switched places earlier, I hadn't bothered to refasten my jeans, and he slid them down easily. As he kneeled down next to me again, I looked at him and said, "I can make sure to warn you, if you want." I wasn't sure if he would be willing to swallow since this would the first time he had ever done it. "You did it for me, I can do it for you," Justin said, shaking his head. "If you're sure," I started to say, but he had already bent over and taken hold of my shaft. There was no foreplay this time; he started right in. I lay back and closed my eyes. In no time I was hard as a rock myself, and I sensed none of his earlier hesitation. He put to very good use some of the things he had obviously noticed as I had caressed him. It might not have been perfect, but it was Justin. And he was a quick learner. I held out for a while, but when I briefly opened my eyes and saw his muscular back and arms flexing as he bent over me, I knew I couldn't hold any longer. Moaning slightly to warn him anyway, I tensed and then began to shoot into his mouth. It was so much different than a girl, and the first guy who had ever swallowed me. When I was completely spent, he pulled himself up next to me. "That was one of the most intense orgasms I have ever had," I said, looking at him. "You're a quick study." "Thanks," he replied. "It was kind of weird at first, but then I just got into it I guess. The taste wasn't as bad as I thought it would be." "I think it's the person more than the taste. But thanks for going all the way like that, it's so much better than being finished by hand." "Yeah, that's what I think too, which is why I did do it." After a few moments of silence, I dared to ask the question that had been on my mind since he had started on me. "Well, I guess now you know what it's like with a guy, at least part of the way. What do you think?" He looked at me for a minute before answering, and I almost feared the worst. "It's different than with a girl. I can't really say how. But I liked it, and if you want I'd like to do it more." "With you Justin, any time," I said. Then I leaned over and kissed him deeply. A short time later we heard Justin's dad return from town. I quickly redid my jeans and we went down to eat our lunch. It was the true start of a very long and close friendship, one that I will always treasure. If 'Justin' should happen to recognize himself in this, PLEASE email me.