Date: Wed, 14 Jun 2000 02:29:20 -0400 (EDT)
From: David Lemmaire <lemmaire@email.com>
Subject: "Danny D & The 7-Day Dare" (t/t/b, oral, anal)

DANNY D & THE 7-DAY DARE (t/t/b, oral, anal)
by Lemmaire

---------------------------------------------

This is a story about how I did sex stuff with seven guys in a row one
week, so my best friend Tim would let me do it in his butt.  He's cute,
and hot, and he's got a really nice ass.  He knows I want it, and he knows
I'm willing to work for it.  He's cool.  You'll see.

It really starts on Tuesday with his dare, but I have to back up to Monday
so it makes sense.

So, stay with me, dudes.  This is how it happened.

---------------------------------------------

1. MARK ON MONDAY

My name's Danny Dunn.  Yeah, I know.  It's dumb.  It sounds like a like a
little kid's book.  Like I should be "Danny Dunn the Dancing Dinosaur" or
something.

Well, I'm not.

I don't dance, and last time I checked, I wasn't prehistoric.

I'm just Danny Dunn.  My friends call me Danny-D.  When they get excited,
the "D" comes out "Deeeeeeeeeee!!!!!!!"  Sometimes, when they get REALLY
excited, the Deeeeeeeeeeee's not all that comes out.

I'm 14.  I'm in eighth grade.  I go to LBJ Junior High in Hitchland,
Texas.  We don't talk funny where I live.  You have to go down lower for
that.  Sorry.

Hitchland is about as far up in Texas as you can go without being from
Oklahoma -- which would basically suck, because then you'd be a retard.
Seriously.  It'd be in your DNA or something.  If you live in Hitchland,
you sort of thank God every night for the Coldwater River and generally
aim your farts toward the north.

Mark is my cousin.  He's a couple years older than me.  We've been sucking
each other off since I was 10 or 11, so it's really no big deal.   He's
down the road a few miles in Amarillo.  They talk a little funny down
there, but not too bad.  He's still manageable.

The reason he was at my house on Monday was because of Memorial Day.  No
school.  No work.  Parents in the backyard grilling hamburgers.  Me and
Mark up in my room with the door locked, sixty-nining.

God, he's big.

He used to have a cute little dick with these wispy red hairs.  That was
when I was 10 and he was 12.  We could both barely find each other's parts
back then.

Luckily, I kept looking, and sure enough, there they were.

Now I'm 14 and he's 16, and Good Lord, he's a monster.  I'm sure it's at
least seven-inches long -- and when it gets hard -- stand back.  The head
gets all red -- almost angry looking.  And he sure cums a lot more than he
did when he was 12.   Before, it was drops.  Now it's jets.  It almost
burns the back of my throat when he shoots off.

That's okay.  I like drinking cum.  It's exciting.

Besides, he's my cousin.  I always been there for him.  I always will.

We like each other without getting too mushy about it.  We have a mutual
understanding.

So, that was Mark on Monday.

---------------------------------------------

2. TIM ON TUESDAY

This is where the story really begins -- with my best friend Tim
Hutchinson, and how he dared me to suck-off seven guys in a row, in order
to get to fuck him in the butt.

Me and Tim have been doing oral stuff for a long time now -- at least
eight months -- but somehow, everytime I reach for his ass, or try to
stick a finger in it or something -- he gets all weird and he freezes up.
You've heard of cold feet, right?  Well, Tim's got a cold butthole, I
guess.

"What's the big deal?"  I asked him...once again pleading for the honor to
touch it -- rub it with my finger -- lick it with my tongue -- anything.
(Well, okay, truly I wanted to put my dick in it -- but hey, if I had to
do some of the foreplay stuff to get him to lower the proverbial
drawbridge -- I was more than willing).

We'd already sucked each other twice that day, so we were pretty much
spent.  Once I started going into butt mode, he did what he always did --
he sat up and started pulling his pants back on.  Ugh.

"I don't like butt stuff," he shrugged...his cute forehead still damp with
both of our sweat.  "I'd do it -- but it makes me feel weird thinking
about it."

"It won't hurt," I begged him.  "I'll go really slow.  Pleeeease?"

He rolled his eyes and grinned.

"You are so hopeless."

"I am so HORNY," I answered, stroking my hard dick, seriously regretting
the fact that I'd spoiled the mood again right in the middle of a
semi-decent sixty-nine.

"How come you want my butt so much?" he asked.

"Because it's CUTE!" I grinned.  "It's cute and it's tight and it's
hairless and it's round and it's sweet and it's -- "

"Okay, okay.  It's a work of art.  Whatever."

I looked him in the eyes and gave him my cute pouty face.  It always works
on my mom, but then again, she doesn't have her virgin butthole on the
line like Tim does.

"Are you EVER going to let me do it to you?" I pleaded dramatically,
trying to go for the right combination of sweet sigh and sexy seduction.

He just grinned.  He never falls for my crap, ever.

"Sucking's much better," he told me.  "I'd rather suck a million guys in a
row than do all that weird butt stuff."

"Weird?" I laughed.  "Dude!  What do you think a butt is for?"

He considered that for a minute.

"Um...poop maybe?"

He had me there.

"Well, you sorta wipe it off a little first," I shrugged.

"Don't you like sucking?" he asked me.

"Hell, yeah," I answered him.  "But I suck all the time.  I'm ready for
something new.  I can get dicks to suck whenever I want.  It's no
challenge anymore."

That part wasn't quite true, but I liked him to think it was.  It kept me
calling the shots if Tim looked up to me as the more experienced one.

He grinned again.  Started getting a glimmer of something mysterious in
his eye.

"Oh, you're the big sucking expert, huh?  You can get 'em anytime, I
suppose."

"Yep," I beamed.  "Shit, dude.  You're my second dick suck this week.  I
had Mark on Monday and Tim on Tuesday."

Now he was really grinning.  I saw the dare barreling down from a mile
away.

"Wanna see if you can go for seven?" he asked deviously.

I shouldn't have opened my mouth.  But I had to play it cool.

"Seven dicks?" I said.  "No problem.  I can do seven dicks."

"A different one for each day of the week?" he asked.

I shrugged casually.  No big deal.

"Okay," he said, with this huge dorky grin on his face.  "Here's the deal.
You suck five more dicks this week, and you can do me in the ass."

"Dude!  You're on!"

"Wait," he said quickly.  "There's more."

Ugh.  There's ALWAYS more.

"If you DON'T suck five more dicks by the end of the week, you don't go
after my ass anymore...deal?"

"Deal!" I said quickly.  "Absolutely a deal."

"BUT..." he interrupted...

"Butt!" I repeated, grinning like a mad man and making a valiant effort to
reach out and give his a squeeze.  He giggled and jumped back.

"BUT," he repeated..."since you've already got two down and only five to
go, we have to make it a little more fair for me."  He patted his ass and
gave me a wink. "I don't give this thang to just ANYbody, you know."

"You don't give it at ALL," I mumbled.

"So, to make it a challenge," he grinned, "you have to do it this way..."

I listened up for my instructions.  I was in over my head and I knew it,
but what the hell.  When you're fourth and goal, what are you gonna do?
Punt?"

"Since you already had a Mark on Monday and a Tim on Tuesday," he said
with diabolical pleasure, "you have to finish the week the same way."

"Huh?"  I was lost.

He rolled his eyes and explained it to me.

"You have to suck a "W" on Wednesday, a "T" on Thursday, an "F" on
Friday..."

"ACK!" I shouted.  "That's too hard!  Dude!  No fair!"

I mean, come on. I was good, but I wasn't THAT good.

"Do it by the letters, or no butt games for Danny-D," he grinned.  "Take
it or leave it."

Now my pride was at stake.

I grinned.  Take it.

"Challenge accepted," I told him.

And we put on our pants and went downstairs and ate everything in the
house to seal the deal.

---------------------------------------------

3. WAYNE ON WEDNESDAY

So, this is how it worked.  That night, we decided the only way he could
verify I'd actually done my daily sucking chores is if I kept the
underwear of the guy I sucked.  I'd have to somehow manage to steal them
for him so he could keep track of what was going down.

Hell, maybe he wanted to hang them on his wall or something.  What do I
know?

Anyway, it was generally agreed if I managed to take a guy's underwear
home with me and present them to him, it was pretty obvious I'd been on
his nads, sucking or not.  Undie proof was close enough for Tim.  I mean,
hell.  We're 14.  If you can get a guy out of his underwear at age 14 and
NOT have him interested enough to get his weenie licked, you are
DEFINITELY doing something wrong.

So, underwear proof it was.

Wednesday afternoon after gym class, I caught up with Wayne Norton coming
out of the shower.  It was last class of the day, and a perfect
opportunity.

And Wayne is cool.  Kinda jocky.  Not my usual type of friend, but we're
close enough so I can talk to him without getting hit.

"Hey, Wayne," I called, sort of chasing after him.  "Wait up after the
bell. I have to talk to you for a sec."

"Sure," he said, toweling off.  "Whatever."

I snuck a little peek at his dick while he was wiping the water off.
Pretty big.  Definitely nothing to take for granted.  Soft, it was already
an eyeful.  Hard?  Well.  I was about to find out.  Had to.  Time was
ticking off the clock.

The bell rang, and kids took off.  I hung back until everything was clear.
Wayne was over by his locker waiting for me.  I nodded toward Grady's door
-- Grady's the gym teacher -- held up a just-a-sec finger -- letting him
know I wanted to talk to him after Grady left his office, which he did
just a few minutes later.

"So, what's up?" Wayne asked me when we were alone in the room.

"Listen," I said, getting right to the point.  "This is gonna sound really
sick -- but I'm just gonna come right out and say it."

He shrugged.  Didn't seem too worried.

"I need to suck your dick," I told him simply.

"You need to WHAT?" he gulped.

"Suck your dick," I repeated.  "You know.  Your dick.  Your cock.  Your
weenie.  Your hot holy fuckstick."

"Yeah," he said, taking a few steps back.  "I know what it is.  I just
don't know why you're asking me to suck it.  That's a little queer, isn't
it, Danny-D?"

"It's for a dare," I told him.  "It's not like I WANT to."

He considered this for a minute.  Shrugged finally, saw the logic, and
started unzipping his pants.

"Whatever," he said.  "It's your mouth."

Thank God, there are rules of good-samaratinism at 14 that defy normal
social behavior.

I got down on my knees right away and went right to work.  He was clean
and fresh and straight from the shower.  Not a hint of anything harsh or
bad-smelling.  Just a nice, warm, body scent and a dick that grew hard as
a rock really, really fast once I started working on it.

"Oh, fuck," he moaned.  "You do that good, Danny-D"

"Mmm-hmmm," I mumbled casually, with a mouth full of cock.  I just needed
to suck him.  I didn't need to make small talk while I was doing it.

"Take your pants off," I commanded.  "Your underwear, too."

He had no trouble following orders.  Trust me, after the first ten licks,
if you tell a guy to flap his arms and squawk like a chicken before you
give him more, he'll do it gladly.

His pants were off and his underwear were kicked aside in a heartbeat.  I
went back down on his dick with enthusiasm.  It really WAS a good one.
While his head was tilted backward and his eyes were closed, moaning, I
grabbed his underwear and stuffed them down the front of my pants.  I
thought about stopping for a second and running like hell with his undie
proof safely in my possession -- but the truth was, I was liking it too
much.  He had a big thick one...and the more I sucked it, the bigger it
got.  Before long, I was moaning myself, enjoying the feel of his slick,
meaty banger prodding and poking the back of my throat.

He shot in my mouth with a muffled groan.  Audio safety first, folks.  In
our world, there are hall monitors.

I felt his legs shake -- and he reached out and pulled on the back of my
throat, shoving his dick way down deep, as far as it would go.  With two
quick thrusts, he started spewing his jet right down my eager mouth.  I
swallowed it all, and secretly wished there would have been just a little
bit more.

I backed off and stood up, wiping a trace of his cum from my lips.  He was
still moaning and shaking a little.

"Thanks, Wayne," I said politely.  "I'd stay and talk, but I'll miss the
bus."

"Whew..." he whispered.  "That was intense, Danny-D."

"Whatever," I shrugged.  "I appreciate the compliments."

I took off and left him standing there, naked from the waist down.

"Hey -- you seen my underwear anywhere?"  he yelled after me, a note of
puzzlement in his voice.

"Nope," I lied.  "Check under the benches."

I left him there, rummaging for his Fruit of the Looms all up and down the
locker room, while I headed to Tim's to present him with the first round
of evidence.  The underwear were tucked safely down my pants.  Briefs.
Boy's large.  The cum was still hot in my throat.  The pleasant burn of
pleasing another male.

That was Wayne on Wednesday.

---------------------------------------------

4. TERRY ON THURSDAY

I gave myself Thursday off.

I'd swallowed cum three days in a row now, and frankly, I needed something
else in my diet.

So, I made my little brother Terry give me a pair of his Pokemon briefs --
he's only seven -- so, he was pretty much a cooperative conquest.

I mean, what's he gonna do?  Tell?

Anyway, Tim was a little pissed that I counted Terry as a full letter.

"You cheat, dude," he moaned, when I gave him the undies.

"Hey," I shrugged innocently.  "You never gave me an age limit."

"Whatever," he sighed, taking the underwear grudgingly.  There was a
little skid mark down the center where Terry apparently had some sort of a
hygiene problem.  At seven, who wipes?

"Okay," Tim agreed.  "But you better get serious for the next three."

I grinned and we fired up the PlayStation.

Later that night, I made Terry stand up in the bathtub, and I put his
little weenie in my mouth and I sucked on it until it was hard.  He was
too young to cum, but he appreciated the attention.

I could have gotten away with not doing it, actually -- but fair is fair.
I said seven dicks, and seven dicks I'd do.  A guy has his dignity. Even
if one of the weenies is a Junior Mint.

So, I sucked Terry until he got bored and wanted to play with his Frog Man
G.I. Joe again.

I tousled his hair and told him he was a good kid.

He grinned sheepishly and went back to playing in the tub.

Thursday accomplished.

Thank you, Mom and Dad, for not naming him Quinn.

---------------------------------------------

5. FRANKIE ON FRIDAY

Friday was horrendous.

Please, someone, anyone, hook me up to the electrodes right now and
permanently erase Friday from every brain cell I own.  Uggghhh.  I think
of Friday and I have to shower.

Tim was laughing his ass off when we got to school, because he knew there
was only one "F" to be found.

Frankie Garland.

Dear Frankie.

Freaky Frankie.

Funky Frankie.

This kid was so geeky -- and so ungodly smelly -- you could sense his
presence from two rooms down the hall, even on a day with no breeze.  He
had the social skills of a rock -- and the aroma of all the dead mushrooms
and bugs that live underneath one.  I was not looking forward to it.

That morning before school, in a last-ditch effort to save myself from
probable infection, I hopefully -- foolishly -- ridiculously -- grabbed my
mom's "What To Name The Baby Book" from her bedside bookshelf and took it
to school with me -- just to make sure all the other "F" roads were
officially closed.

Walking to homeroom with Tim, I scanned the pages, while he laughed his
ass off at my sudden desperation.

"Fabian...Falkner...Felix...Furguson.  God dammit, why can't we have a
fucking Furguson in this school?"

Tim cracked up some more.

"Finley...Fleming...Fletcher...Floyd.  Shit, I'd almost rather go down to
the nursing home and find a Floyd than do it with Frankie."

"Not too late to back out, Loverboy," Tim grinned.

"Fuck you," I mumbled.  "Frasier...Fred...Fuller.  Christ, we don't even
have a fucking Fred!  What kind of school does not own a Fred???"

"Frankie, Frankie, Frankie," he grinned, loving how the smelly name rolled
off his tongue. "Mmmm. Have a nice sleepover, dude."

He laughed and turned and walked away, giving his ass a little shake as he
trotted down the hall.  He was making me work for it, all right.

And I was gonna get in that thing if it killed me.

The first step was getting Frankie Garland to actually agree to spend the
night at my house -- not an easy task, since Frankie isn't exactly
accustomed to the whole "wanna-sleep-over?" routine.  It's sort of like
asking the neighborhood penguin if he wants to dance in the swan ballet.

But after a little prolonged persuasion -- and a computer techno-geek
problem I made up on the spot -- (Frankie loves that stuff) -- he agreed
to come over around six...presumably after doing his homework, since I was
pretty sure by the ongoing cloud of mites swarming over his head he wasn't
going home to shower and put on cologne or anything.

He got there at six on the dot -- in the meantime, I'd gone into my
parents' computer and deleted a few of those ".dll" things, whatever those
are.  He had the time of his life, re-finding the missing ones and putting
them back, via web downloads.

He didn't talk much, but that was fine with me.  I just needed his dick
and his underwear.

I got them both around ten that night.  We were upstairs in my room and he
was sitting on the edge of my bed watching TV, and I started talking
really dirty to him and stuff.  You know, just generally talking about
girls' tits and dick-sucking and how I like to rub my dick when it gets
hard and all that.

And I knew I had him interested, because I could see him getting hard
right in his dirty pants.  He tried to rub it a little without being
obvious, but he sorta lacked the grace, you know?  Basically, he was
sitting there on my bed, almost whacking off through his pants while I
talked hot and said the F-word a lot.

Then I just went for it.  He didn't protest at all.  I had his pants
unsnapped, pulled down, and his underwear off in fifteen seconds.  He
gasped as my hand snaked into the waistband of his dingy briefs and
touched his hard cock.

Before I went down on him, I looked at the underwear.  Ratty.  Smelly.
Badly in need of everything the Tide Corporation's got to offer.

"Dude," I told him gently.  "Two words.  Wash.  More."

He shrugged sheepishly and nodded toward his dick, hoping I wouldn't back
out now.

I didn't.

I took a deep breath, and wished myself luck...but I blew him like a
trooper.

He didn't moan like Mark or Wayne did.  He just sat there and breathed
heavily.  Didn't move.  Didn't thrust up into my mouth.  Didn't grab my
head or say dirty things to me or any of that advanced stuff.  He was too
new at it.  Too surprised it was actually happening.

He just sat there like a rock and let me suck his dirty dick.  His pubes
smelled like armpits.  I gagged about five times, but I kept going.

When he came, it was almost nothing.  He barely even moved.  Just gasped a
little and shot his few meager drops in my mouth.  They were sweet, and
strong, and very thin.  Enjoyable, but empty.

I almost said, "Is that all there is?" but he'd been such a good sport
about it -- I didn't want to embarrass him.  He's not a bad kid.  Just
stinky and strange.  I'm pretty sure nobody's going to be lining up to
blow him in the near future.  If I was gonna be the only one he had for a
while, I didn't want to fuck it up by being mean to him.

So, that was Frankie on Friday.  It still makes me shudder to think I
actually put that thing of his in my mouth.  When I was done and he fell
asleep, I tiptoed into the bathroom and washed my mouth out with soap,
toothpaste, AND shampoo.

I presented Tim with Frankie's undies the next day.  I told Frankie they
were missing because my mom thought they were mine and put them in the
wash.  I told him I'd give them back to him, in a bag, on Monday.  He
didn't have any problem with that, and left undie-less.

Tim almost blew chunks when I gave him the proof.

"Dude," he said in awe.  "You are TOO fearless."

"I'm going to love that ass of yours," I told him, trying not to laugh
while I was attempting to sound menacing.  "After Frankie -- I'm going to
love that ass all night long."

---------------------------------------------

6. SEBASTIAN ON SATURDAY

Two more days.  Could I do it?   Did I even want to?

After Frankie left, I sort of napped and showered, napped and showered,
napped and showered, wondering if I had the energy to get back in the
game.

Luckily, Sebastian was available and easy.

You tell me how our school can have a freaking Sebastian and not one Fred.
That's just not alphabetically fair.

Anyway, Sebastian's gay, and everybody knows it...even Sebastian.  That's
a cool thing, because I think a lot of us are, and don't really know it
yet.

No such problem with Sebastian.

We'd sucked each other a few times before -- mostly at his house, after
school, while his mom sat in her office, typing, right in the next room.

I knew I needed an easy one after Frankie, so Sebastian got to be my
Saturday "S."

I called him up and told him to come over so we could "do stuff."

He didn't need any more encouragement than that.  He knows the routine and
agrees to it gladly.  Any day.  Any time.  Any dude.

He thought it was a little creepy that I wanted to keep his underwear when
it was over, but he's a sweet kid.  He didn't object.

And in the meantime, I got a really good blowjob out of the deal.

We took turns.

I sucked him off first -- his dick is small and thin -- but perfectly
shaped -- beautiful -- and he's really responsive to every move you make.
He's very gentle.  When you suck him, he doesn't grab your hair or get
rough or anything harsh like that.  He just lays there, gently twisting
his hips, making soft, whispery "ohhhh's" with his eyes closed.  Sometimes
his hands come down and his fingers trace along the bones of your
shoulders.  He's good at being sucked.  Any guy can DO it.  But it takes a
special guy to RECEIVE it well.  And he does.  Sucking Sebastian is almost
better than getting him to do it in return.

So, Saturday night, I spent a couple long, leisurely, relaxing hours in
bed with Sebastian.  I only needed to blow him once for the dare -- but I
think we did it three times in all.

He's good.  He's cool.

I haven't seen the last of him.

---------------------------------------------

7. SLADE ON SUNDAY

Tim wasn't going to let me count Slade as my last score of the dare.  He
tried to back out.

"No way!  It's a nickname!" he objected when I proudly handed him the last
pair of underwear.

"Dude," I said calmly, showing him the high school yearbook.  "Check it
out.  His name is Steven."

Tim groaned, because I'd won and he knew what he owed me.

Slade was a cool.  He was older than me by three years -- 17 -- so he was
sort of used to the whole sex thing and he had a lot more experience than
I did.

I came on to him when I saw him at the mall.  I needed one more "S," and
he was the dude.

I came right out and asked him for it.

"I'll do anything you want," I told him -- already knowing he sort of had
a thing for younger kids -- guys or girls -- it didn't matter to Slade.
There were a lot of rumors concerning his after-school activities.  I knew
it was pretty-much a safe bet to ask.

So, I led him into the bathroom in the mall, and we found the nearest
stall, and I got down on my knees and unzipped his pants and started
sucking on his cock.

It was big, but not the biggest I've ever seen.

He wanted to fuck me, but we couldn't get it to work right.

I bent over and put my hands on the back of the toilet to brace myself
while he spit on his hand and lubed up his dick.  He pushed it into me a
little too hard, and I yelled out and made him stop.

Luckily, he did.  He was a lot older than me -- and a lot stronger -- and
I guess he could have pretty much forced me to take it if he'd been an
asshole -- but he didn't.  He stopped right away.  He pulled it out and
jacked off for me instead.

He asked me if I was okay.  He said, "I'm sorry I hurt you."

He was sweet.  Not mean or scary at all.

I kneeled down on the floor and opened my mouth, so he could shoot it onto
my tongue.  I wanted to do that for him.  At least eat it for him.

He moaned and stroked himself.

"Oh yeah, Danny-D," he whispered.  "Some sweet cream, baby boy.  Here it
comes."

There wasn't anything weird about the "baby boy" stuff.  I kind of liked
it.

Even though my ass hurt, I still wanted to swallow his cum.  I was hard.
I was jacking off while he shot it.

He shot off rockets of thick, white juice. A lot more bitter tasting than
the other guys, but still really good.  I came on the floor as I was
swallowing his load.   I ate it all.  It was good.

It's amazing how many flavors of cum there are in the world.  No two
snowflakes are ever the same.

I didn't ask him for his underwear, because I didn't feel comfortable
doing it.  He was too much older.  It would have been too weird.

Anyway, we got out of the stall right before the cleaning guy came in with
a mop -- lucky timing -- and he rubbed my head and said goodbye at the
door.  I'm sure I was just one more casual kid conquest in his messed-up
book -- but hey, an "S" is an "S," right?

And that was the last dick of the seven-day dare.  I'd made it.  Done.
Over.  I won.

I walked into Sears and bought a three-pack of underwear, approximately
Slade-sized, a little bigger than mine.  I walked back into the bathroom
after I'd made sure the janitor was done cleaning my cum off the floor.

I ripped one out of the package and threw the rest away.  I took a pee in
the urinal, and dripped a few drops on the crotch, so it looked like
they'd actually been used.

That's the pair I gave to Tim.

They weren't really Slade's, but I'd earned them.

---------------------------------------------

8. DANNY D. GETS THE PRIZE

And that was the week of my seven-day dare.  Pretty good work, if I do say
so myself.

Tim was majorly freaked-out all week in school.  He knew he had to stay
over on Friday night and he knew what I'd be expecting.

It was kind of strange actually.  He kept his distance from me.  Didn't
talk to me much.  He was there -- but he wasn't...you know?

Friday came and he was nervously at my bedroom door.

"Can we just get this over with?" he said simply.  "You won.  Fair and
square."

He unzipped his jeans and let them drop to the floor.  With a vacant look
in his eyes, he tugged on the waistband of his underwear, and slid them
down his legs.

"I didn't think you could actually do it," he said admirably.  Sadly, but
admirably.

He went to the bed, and leaned over the edge.

"It's yours, dude," I heard him say softly.  I could hear the shaking in
his voice.  He was scared.  Willing, because he owed it to me, but not
because he wanted it.  Before he turned away from me, I could see the
sheen of tears welling around the whites of his eyes.  He really didn't
want to go this far.

He leaned down further on the bed, reached behind himself and spread his
cheeks apart.  In the center, I saw his perfect, pink hole -- hairless --
soft -- inviting -- God, I wanted it so bad.

But it felt all wrong.

You ever get that feeling?

Like something you've wanted for so long is right there in front of you,
but you don't have the right to take it, because the timing's off?

My dick was hard.  His ass was open and waiting.  I've never wanted
something so badly in my life.

And fuck.  I knew I couldn't do it.

"Well?" Tim said, waiting for the inevitable.

"Nope," I said casually, zipping my pants back up.  "I can't do it."

Tim was silent for a second.

"Don't you want to?" he asked, puzzled.

"Of course I want to, butthead.  I've always wanted to."

The silence ticked off the clock.

"But...?" he asked hesitantly.

"But YOU don't want to," I told him.  "And fuck.  That's more important, I
guess."

He turned and sat on the bed.  Faced me.  There really were tears in his
eyes.  He looked so visibly relieved, it broke my heart.

"Thanks," he whispered.  "I was really scared.  Really, really scared."

I smiled at him and came over to the bed and hugged him.

"I know," I said.

"But I owe it to you," he shrugged weakly, wiping a few tears away.  "I
promised."

"Dude," I told him quietly.  "You never owe me anything you don't want.
Okay?"

He hugged me back and cried a few more tears.

"Thanks," he whispered.  "I won't forget this, Danny-D."

We got dressed.  Played a few video games.  Watched a movie.  Crawled into
bed.

Like many times before, we rolled into a gentle sixty-nine and came in
each other's mouths, full and happy and satisfied.

But that night, instead of rolling off into separate sleeping areas -- me
in my bed -- Tim in a sleeping bag on the floor -- we curled up in my bed
together and slept soundly the whole night.

He breathed quietly in the moonlit room and I cherished his warm, soft
body, wrapped around mine.

Someday?  Yeah.  Someday we might do more.

But for now, it's good the way it is.

Tim has me, and I have Tim.

We're friends.

Best friends.

And no matter what I'd been hoping for, he's all the prize I need.

___________________________

END