Date: Tue, 22 Dec 2015 22:39:51 -0800
From: Douglas DD DD <thehakaanen@hotmail.com>
Subject: Rough Edges  Chapter 37

Welcome back to another chapter. The moment of truth as finally
come for Larry and Phil. To decide how he will handle the big
question, Larry takes a long look at his past.

Please give to the Nifty Archive. Always be safe.

Let me know your thoughts on the story. I answer all emails.
Douglas. thehakaanen@hotmail.com


CHAPTER 37
THE PROPOSAL

<Nick McCall>

"Really, they should get married," I told my best friend as we lolled naked
on the ultra-sex bed.

"Fuck yeah, they should," he replied. "Hell, they should already be married."

Hurricane Jeffrey and I had just finished a round of stormy sex. I was the
top if you think you need to know. I was fifteen and had just finished my
sophomore year.  Jeffrey was fourteen and just finished his freshman year.
So, yeah, we're old enough to be lovers and young enough to fuck just
about any time we want to. We've been doing it together since we were
preteens.
Everybody calls me Nick now instead of Nicky. Well, not everybody – my
mom still calls me Nicky a lot of the time even though she knows I don't like
it. And when she's really pissed at me she calls me Nicholas. But she's my
mom and I love her to death so I don't say anything. Jeffery calls me Nicky
now and then just to give me shit – so I call him Jeffy to give shit back to
him.
We were talking about Coach Sanders and Coach Miller, of course. Coach
Miller is our coach for the summer, but Coach Sanders is the head coach of
the high school, so he outranks Coach Miller.

"Which one of them do you think is the top?" Jeffrey asked as he rubbed
my chest and belly in an attempt to turn me on again. From the look of my
rock hard cock, he appeared to be succeeding.

"It's gotta be Coach Sanders, since he is the head coach."

"Yeah, but it doesn't always work out that way. You and me switch off a
lot."

"But you're the bottom the most since you love having a big cock up that
skinny ass of yours."

"I have a nice ass," Jeffrey said indignantly. "Marty tells me that all the
time."

I leaned over and gave Jeffrey a kiss on the lips. "Yeah right, that's just
because he wants to make sure you give it up to him whenever he wants
it."

Marty had taken Jeffrey's cherry when he was eleven on this very same
bed. Jeffrey and I fucked for the first time on this bed. Jeffrey took his
brother Sammy's cherry on this bed. I fucked Sammy for the first and only
time on this bed while Jeffrey was fucking Sammy's best friend, twelve-
year-old Alex, right next to us. Sammy and I fucked thirteen-year-old Lindy
Beckett back-to-back on this bed while Jeffrey sat on the floor jerking
himself off to three straight cums while he watched us get it on. Sammy
was twelve when that happened. My sometime girlfriend Cassidy Ryan
watched Jeffrey fuck my ass on this bed while she fucked herself with a
dildo. Sammy watched Marty fuck Jeffrey while Eric Simmons fucked me
on this bed back when Sammy was eleven. The little horn dog had four dry
cums. I could give you a few more examples, but I think you get the idea
why this is called the ultra-sex bed.

"Should we talk to them and tell them what we think?" Jeffrey asked.

"I think we should do that. Let's ride our bikes out there."

"I think we should eat first."

I pointed to my hard six inch cock. "Oh, hell no. I think we should fuck first."

Jeffrey grinned and I rolled over on top of him. Right at that moment twelve-
year-old Sammy sauntered in wearing nothing but a pair of boxers. His little
three inch piece of boy meat was sticking out proudly through the opening.

"Are you guys gonna stay in bed and fuck all day?" he asked sarcastically.

"Not a bad idea, bro," Jeffrey grinned, "but we got shit to do."

"Okay if I join in?" Sammy asked in his lilting boy soprano.

"Since when are you all eager to mess around with guys?" I asked as I
lined up my cock with Jeffrey's ass. Sammy stepped out of his boxers and
was now totally naked.

"Since Mary Taylor wouldn't put out last night at Rory's party."

"You mean your charms couldn't get her into bed?"

"It was more like she was so drunk and stoned she couldn't get up off the
couch to do it."

"Wouldn't that be a good time to take advantage of the situation?"

Sammy shook his head. "That is so wrong. I'm not that way—you don't do
that to people."

"So what did you do?" I asked

"Sat next to her on the couch, pulled my pants down, and started jerking
off, at least until Rory came by and blew me."

"Well, you at least got something," Jeffrey said.

"Ain't the same as fucking a cute girl, or fucking anybody for that matter.
Sometimes I think not drinking and drugging at parties isn't worth it—I
might have got something if I'd been fucked up."

Jeffrey raised his voice. "Sammy...," he said threateningly.

"I know," he said contritely, "I learned my lesson. But, hell, I can still dream,
right?"

Sammy's encounter with booze and weed at a party is an entire story in
itself. He was lucky we were around to rescue him and keep him out of
trouble.

"So what do you want to do, little dude?" I asked.

"I want to fuck one of you."

"And why would two high school studs want to give up their ass to a little
preteen straight boy?"

"Because I fuck good?" Sammy asked with a smirk.

Sammy ended up fucking me while I sucked off Jeffrey. For a little dude
with a little boy cock, Sammy does fuck pretty good. But then, he's had lots
of practice with girls and boys—mostly girls. He was one of the major studs
at the middle school, no question about that. After Sammy had an almost
instant orgasm, Jeffrey and I decided to end things with a sixty-nine as little
Sammy sat on the edge of the bed watching. I filled Jeffrey's mouth about a
minute before he returned the favor.

"You guys are a lot of fun," Sammy grinned. "You almost make me want to
be queer, but you guys don't got boobs and a wet pussy."

"Are you sure you're only twelve?" I asked.

"Twelve and sexy." I remember when Sammy was a quiet little boy, modest
and unassuming. Now, he seems to resemble his big brother more all the
time.

"We're gonna shower," Jeffrey said. "There's somebody we want to see."

"I'll shower with you." That was a statement, not a request.

We didn't have sex in the shower, although Sammy had his seemingly
perpetual boner. He went back to the main house after we all dried off,
leaving his boxers on the bedroom floor.

"Are the coaches going to be home?" I asked Jeffrey as we pulled our bikes
out of the storage shed.

"It's Saturday, where else are they going to be?" For as smart as he is,
Jeffrey can be pretty dumb at times.

"Well, if they aren't home, we'll still get a good bike ride out of it."

It turns out they were home. Coach Sanders answered the door. I know he
was surprised to see us, but I think he was kinda happy to see us too.

"Well, good afternoon, gentlemen. This is a pleasant surprise." See, I told
you he was surprised and happy.

Jeffrey and I agreed that I would do the talking. "Hi coach. Glad you're
home. Is Coach Miller home too?"

"Yes he is. What can we do for you two miscreants?"

"We're here to be good," I assured him. I knew what a miscreant was—I
mean I was a straight A student for a reason.

"Well, come on in and be good, then."

Coach offered us some lemonade, which we accepted. Coach Miller came
in and we talked some baseball until Coach Sanders asked what it was we
were really here to talk about. The dude does have a way on calling us on
our bullshit.

"We wanted to talk about both of you," I told the coaches. "We have
something we need to tell you."

"And what would that be?" Coach Miller asked.

I looked over at Jeffrey. It was his turn to talk now; the Hurricane was never
shy about saying what he thought.

"Nick and I think it's time you two got married, and we're not the only ones
who think that."

Coach Sanders gave us what I think people call an amused look. "Indeed.
And are you two the official spokesmen on the subject?"

"Nope, but we're telling you what people are saying."

"And just why would our marital status be anybody's business?"

"Because, coach, we got lots of gay guys on our team and at our school.
You guys keep telling us to be proud of who we are and to never be afraid
of what people think."

"You think we're afraid?" Coach Miller asked.

"Yes, we do," I said. I gotta admit I was really nervous. I mean Coach
Sanders was right, this really was none of our business. Our coaches could
end up hating us for what we were saying, although I was sure they weren't
like that or I wouldn't have come here.

"Why?" Coach Sanders asked. He didn't appear to be mad—in fact he
seemed to be really interested in what we were saying.

"Well, we hear things. And why else wouldn't you do it?"

"Yeah," Jeffrey chimed in. "You guys have been boyfriends since you were
like in middle school."

"You guys can show us that it's okay to go all the way." It was my turn to
talk. "That shows us we have nothing to be afraid of in any way."

Then it was Jeffrey's turn. "You don't know how we look up to you, and if
you get married you've shown us how proud you are."

"We appreciate your trusting us enough to share your feelings with us,"
Coach Sanders told us. "You gave Coach Miller and me some things to
think about."

"We don't want you to think about it," Jeffrey said, "we want you to do it."

We talked a little more about other stuff, but Jeffrey and I had said all we
really had wanted to say and we didn't stay much longer. The coaches
thanked us again for being willing to express our opinion and Jeffrey and I
headed back to town on our bikes. We saw Chandler and Korey driving the
other way as we crossed the bridge at the end of the lake. They honked
and waved, and we waved back.

"I think that went pretty good," Jeffrey said when we got to his house.

"Well, at least they didn't kill us," I grinned.

"Do you think they'll ever do it?"

"Maybe, but it won't be because of anything we said."

"You never know," Jeffrey said, "you just never know."

"I wonder where Chandler and Korey were going."

"Only one place I can think of out that way...the coaches' house."

<Larry Sanders>

It had been quite an afternoon. First two current players, Nick and Jeffrey,
came by the house to chat. I knew how serious they were about what they
had to say since I tried to discourage players and students from visiting
Coach Miller and me.

And then, just minutes after the players left, the ex-players showed up. It
turns out they had the same subject on their minds. They sat on the swing
on the deck holding hands and giving us their thoughts on marriage,
courage, and example-setting.

"Is this tag team or something?" Phil asked.

"Say what?" Korey wondered.

"Marriage is the topic that Nick and Jeffrey came to discuss and they
presented the same arguments you two gave. When we were at State,
some of the alums came up with the same arguments."

"Smart boys, all of them," Chandler said. "That explains us seeing Nick and
Jeffrey riding their bikes across the bridge. And if you want an adult
perspective you could talk to my dad."

"I did," I laughed. Chandler's father had talked to me at the all-school
district staff picnic about matrimony. "That's what I mean about tag
teaming."

"I'm amazed Nick and The Hurricane talked to you about it. That's pretty
gutsy for a pair of current players."

"From Nick and the Hurricane to the Dawg and the Donkey, everybody
seems to think they know what's best for us," Phil said.

"Somebody has to," Korey grinned. "You guys sure don't seem to."

I hadn't even mentioned the heartfelt letter from Eric and Noah that had
come in the mail a couple of days ago.  In it they reiterated some of the
arguments they'd presented in Pasco.

After the two young men left Phil and I sat on the same swinging couches
they had occupied.

"Tell me again why we can't get married?" Phil asked.

"I just don't think it would wash in a small town, even one that has been as
accepting as Mayfield."

"That is no longer a valid argument and you know it." Phil was referring to
the phone call I'd received from a large high school in the Seattle area. The
athletic director called to inquire about my interest and availability to take
over as the head coach and fill a math teaching position.

"They didn't seem to think I was good enough when I applied there seven
years ago."

"Come on Larry, get real. You were a middle school JV coach applying for
a head coaching position at a big, prestigious high school with a top flight
athletic program. Now you have three state high school championships on
your resume. They even remembered you had applied back then."

"I was rejected without an interview."

"So are you going to hold that against them?"

"No, I was probably a naïve young buck back then. I don't blame them."

"Do you want that job?"

"I'd be crazy not to desire it, but I'm not going to apply for it." I swept my
arm to the view off of our deck. "Where am I going to find this kind of peace
and happiness? Not in Pugetopolis, that's for sure."

"Moving means we have nothing to keep us from getting married," Phil said
quietly.

"Are you proposing to me?" I grinned.

Phil squeezed me tightly and lay his head on my shoulder, his eyes looking
up to me, a sly grin on his face. "Yes, I am. Will you marry me, Larry my
one and only love?"

I kissed the forehead of the man who had been my lifelong lover. I knew
what my answer was going to be, even if he didn't. I knew why I was going
to answer the way I was, just like I knew what my answer was going to be
long before the first time he asked to make love to me. Back then we were
so young and so naïve and so horny. After coming up with so many
reasons not to go all the way, I realized that real, real sex was what we
needed to have to cement our relationship. My only question was whether
Phil felt the same way as I did.

Since the day we'd come out to each other our lives had changed—
changed for the better. We became more comfortable with each other,
more comfortable with our friends, and more comfortable with sex.

Sometimes our sex was casual, just jerking off or jerking each other off.
More often than not we had oral sex, which we both loved. We still played
around sexually with our friends, but we saved the really serious stuff for
each other.

Phil also continued his sexual relations with Troy. Those sessions with his
big brother were important to him as they not only had sex, but discussed
serious issues in their lives. Their father had left for Texas, leaving his
family behind. Even though Keegan wanted to go with him, he was also left
behind. Divorce papers had been filed by his mother and my Phil was
about to become yet another boy from a broken family.

Keegan slipped deeper into the darkness of alcohol and drug addiction.
Troy tried some of the same tactics that had worked before, but Keegan
rejected him. Troy pleaded for their mother to have him admitted to rehab.
While she eventually would, more than once, sobriety never took hold.

I had some sexual fun with relatives as well, namely with my two young
cousins. As the year started to come to a close and the holidays drew near,
the Wonkeys, along with Phil and me, found ourselves in some interesting
situations.

Still life went pretty much as it had been until November 14, which was
Daniel's thirteenth birthday. His birthday was on a Friday, but we had a
playoff soccer game the next morning, so party time would be on Saturday
afternoon and overnight.

The Wonkeys hadn't met as a group at Daniel's house since the summer
before sixth grade—although many of us had been there in small groups or
individually. Daniel's parents were great to us, but they were older than the
other Wonkey parents and liked us better in small groups. But Daniel would
only become a teenager once, they decided, so they took the chance that
the Wonkeys wouldn't level the house to rubble.

Some of us had planned Friday overnights. Phil and Q spent the night with
me, Ben celebrated Daniel's actual birthday at Daniel's house, and Tyson
spent the night at Jung's house. Perry stayed home because his brother
Dean had some of his fifteen and sixteen-year-old friends spending the
night, which Perry found enticing.

Of course everybody shared their sexual adventures the next day. For Phil,
Q, and me there was nothing to report. Our game had started at ten and
was a big game. The three of us were convinced that we would have more
energy for a game if we were celibate the night before. Sometimes we
would have sex the night before a game for purely scientific reasons—we
had to test our theory after all. As far as we could tell, having sex or not
having sex didn't make much of a difference, but when we had a big game
we elected not to test the theory. Such are the minds of twelve-year-olds.

Daniel and Ben didn't share our anxiety about sex, and Ben played the
bottom for the new teen—twice. Jung and Tyson enjoyed each other as
Jung's two younger sisters watched. The older sister, who was now
seventeen went to a sleepover at a friend's house. The fifteen-year-old
sister watched and participated as Tyson took advantage of the fact that
she was on the pill. The nine-year-old was naked and played with herself
during the sexual festivities, but was still nervous about participating.
Nobody ever made a big deal out of her trepidation.

As for Perry, he stayed away from the bong being passed around among
his brothers and his friends. "Having a big cock up my ass is what I like," he
stated. "Besides, we had a game to play—no way I was going to be fuzzy
headed." From what he told us, he took three big cocks up his ass. He
didn't show any aftereffects from the three orgasms he enjoyed as he
played his usual quick paced game and scored a big goal in our 3-2 win.

I know it's hard to believe, but everybody was horny as we gathered
together in the basement of Daniel's house, with Phil, Q, and I being the
horniest. We were all but assured privacy in the basement as long as we
didn't make too much racket. We had the computer on as well as a video
game on the television. We wanted to make it look like we were engaged in
approved activities instead of allowing our libidos to take control. Since
both of Daniel's sisters were away at college, we didn't have to worry about
them, although Q thought Daniel's eighteen-year-old sister was "fine."

The first thing we did was compare how much we had changed "down
there" since the last time we had been together as a group. We'd all been
noting the changes, but other than at school and practice we hadn't been
together as a group for a while.

The big change was the growth of our penises, both soft and hard, and the
sprouting of pubic hair. Everyone but Phil, Perry, and I now had hair.
Tyson's was dark and curly and thick—it had sprouted in a hurry. Daniel
sported a nice bush of dark brown hair while Ben had scattered dark hairs,
most of them along the sides of his pubic region. Jung had a thin line of
hair along the base of his penis. Although the hairs weren't real thick, they
were noticeable. Q had quite a few hairs to the side of his pubic region, and
a line of scattered angel hair along the base.

The questionable one was Phil, who had peach fuzz growing along the
base of his penis. He insisted he had hair, but the rest of us were ready to
give him a hard time and insist it needed to be thicker, darker, and longer to
be considered real pubic hair.

All of us could shoot now. A big part of the evening would be comparing our
emissions to see who shot the most, the thickest, and whose cum flew the
furthest up our torsos. With that competition in mind, the night became one
of solo and mutual masturbation. Things became even more interesting
when we decided to see who could cum wet the most times before
midnight.

For the record, Tyson's was the thickest, Jung shot the most in one
orgasm, mine went the farthest as my first shot hit my chin, and Phil's
fourth orgasm, which happened at 11:55, broke a tie with Ben for the most
orgasms.

Also, some cocks found their way into a mouth in an effort to create more
orgasms, but the results were shot out in public not in a mouth. I got turned
on watching Tyson suck Phil for Phil's orgasm and I shot for my third time
right at midnight.

Daniel's thirteenth birthday was a great event. His parents allowed us to
sleep in and let Daniel skip church that morning, a rarity for him. Because
we didn't want to be caught naked in a sleeping bag with another boy, we
slept in underpants and t-shirt. That didn't stop Daniel from sleeping with
Ben, Phil from sleeping with me, Tyson from sleeping with Q, or Jung from
sleeping with Perry, but at least we looked innocent doing it—or so we
thought.

The two weeks before Thanksgiving flew by. Phil and his family once again
had Thanksgiving dinner at our house. My parents loved Phil and Troy, but
were leery of Keegan. But then, everybody was leery of Keegan.

"Was Keegan on drugs or something?" my mother asked after Phil's family
left.

"Yes he was," Phil answered instantly. This was the new Phil, the one who
was not afraid of the truth, the one who told me he was gay and that I was
his boyfriend. "I'm sorry. I saw him toking and was hoping mom would
leave him at home."

"There is nothing for you to be sorry about, you aren't the one smoking the
pot. I take it you and Troy aren't following Keegan's lead."

"We've both tried it," Mr. Honest said. "Me more than Troy."

"Oh really?" I think mom was trying not to be judgmental, but her voice said
otherwise.

"Yeah really. I smoked it a lot in sixth grade, but Troy and Larry both helped
me see how stupid it was. Well, Keegan helped too, because I learned I
don't want to be like him."

I was really hoping this conversation wouldn't turn into a disaster. To me it
was possible to be too forthright, but right now Phil was on his honesty kick
and felt like he had to confess everything. At least he didn't get into his
smoking weed in seventh grade, but I'm sure he would have if mom had
asked.

"And what about you?" she asked me, the "mom look" plastering her face.

"I haven't tried it," I said honestly. I'd come close, but so far I was a
marijuana virgin.

"I take it you have no plans to try it."

Mom and dad had talked to me about sex, drugs, and alcohol, so I knew
the drill. I think mom did too, since she didn't go into lecture mode.

"None." Which was true at that particular time.

Mom always seemed to know how far to push a subject. She appeared to
be satisfied with our answers, and her next gesture indicated she was more
than satisfied. She rose from her chair and beckoned Phil to stand up. She
wrapped her arms around him and gave him what I know he craved from
his own parents—a big hug. "I just want you to know we love you, Phil. We
love you unconditionally."

That conversation was a big part of our bedtime chat that night, both before
and after we had sex. I chided Phil for being too honest and almost getting
me into trouble.

"But you didn't get in trouble because you didn't do anything wrong. And if
you had smoked weed, I might have been a little less honest so you
wouldn't get in trouble. I'd never rat out my boyfriend." That led to some
furious kissing followed by even more furious dry-humping followed by our
bellies becoming smeared with each other's cum.

One of the big pieces of news in early December was Phil winning a county
math tournament that was held at Pierce College. Mr. Wainwright was a
crackerjack teacher and Phil's talents blossomed under his tutelage. Mr.
Wainwright was a teacher I tried to emulate in my own classroom. I also
had Mr. Rodman's example of how not to teach to think about as well. Mr.
Rodman did not start the year at Evergreen Middle School and I never saw
him again until running into him years later at a math conference.

In the eyes of Mr. McKay, the principal, and Mrs. Richards, the assistant
principal, Phil had become a huge success story. From the boy who was
flunking math thanks to his shitty attitude, to the seventh grade winner in
the county math tournament, he had without question turned his life
around. Either way, I loved my boyfriend with all of my soul.

During Christmas break, Phil and I spent a couple of days with Andy and
Ross, Andy's newest boyfriend. They'd been together since the start of the
school year.

"This is the real thing," Andy assured us before Ross arrived. Ross was in
eighth grade and had just turned fourteen. "He's really super nice. He plays
on the basketball team and leads them in scoring and rebounds. Plus he's
totally sexy."

"Do people know that you two are like, you know, a couple?" I asked.

"Our best friends do."

"Are any of those friends on the basketball team?" I asked.

"Two of them and they're cool with it. They have girlfriends and everything,
but they and Ross used to mess around. Okay, they still do some, but only
when I'm messing around with them, too."

"Well, be careful," Phil told him. "I love you and I don't want you to be hurt."

"I'm good. Nobody will mess with me when Ross is around."

"What about next year when he goes to high school?"

"Like I said," Andy grinned, "I'm cool."

One thing about Andy was that it was hard to shake him up. He had been
bullied before and had learned how to recognize it and deal with it—or at
least that was what he wanted us to believe.

"How about you guys—do your friends know?"

"The Wonkeys know and my big brother knows," Phil told him. We had told
Andy who the Wonkeys were.

Ross ended up being a very cool guy. He was friendly, with a big smile and
a great laugh. Andy was right about him being sexy. He had an athlete's
body with developing muscles that belied the time he spent working with
weights. He had some fuzzy hair on his legs and pecs and the start of a
treasure trail down to his bushy pubic area. His thick, cut cock was a solid
six inches.

Of course we didn't become naked and hard and horny instantly. We
played the games and talked the talk most seventh graders did, except that
girls weren't a topic of our conversation.

But we eventually became ready for sex. I wasn't surprised to see Ross
lube up his cock and Andy's white, hairless ass. Andy had told me they
were true lovers and that he was the bottom.

"I've fucked two girls," Ross told us, "and none of them were as good as my
Andy."

"Is he the only guy you've fucked?" Phil asked rather undiplomatically.

"He's my second. I fucked one of my buddies when we were in seventh
grade. We had two friends with us who did it after us. We decided fucking
was way too gay and went back to just jerking each other off and giving
blow jobs. Then I met Andy, and I wanted to be gay—which is what I guess
I am, if not maybe bi."

Ross and Andy had met on the Fourth of July weekend at the marina
where their dads kept their boats. They hit it off and soon spent time on
each other's boat and at each other's house. They went all the way when
they spent a night on Ross's boat at the marina.

"We did it outside on the deck, too," Andy grinned. "But the boat is moored
in a shed."

Ross and Andy spent time making out just like Phil and I did. They were
both ready and Andy was on his back on his bed, his legs back around his
ears. He was a skinny, lithe boy. "I love being the bottom," Andy told us. "I
love it when Ross fuck..."

"You mean when I make love to you," Ross said. "You and me make love
now, we don't fuck." He gave Andy a big kiss. I could tell that Ross truly
loved Andy and wasn't a big kid taking advantage of Andy's cute young
body.

"Yeah," Andy sighed after Ross ended the deep, loving kiss. "We make
love."

"I can't believe you guys don't do it," Ross said before he shoved his big
cock into Andy's little ass. That was the last thing he said before he went to
work on his lover.

"Oh, yeah, that feels so fucking good," Andy moaned. "It's so good making
love."

Phil and I kissed and made out and jerked each other's cocks as we
watched the two rutting young adolescents fuck, because compared to
what I know of making love as an adult, what those two were doing was
just out and out wild fucking. We watched Ross rabbit fuck until I lightly
shoved Phil to the floor and got on top of him. It wasn't fucking but it was as
close to making love as Phil and I got as I dry humped him until we left our
sperm over each other's bellies.

Andy followed our almost simultaneous orgasm with a no touch cum over
his smooth belly and lightly fuzzed pubic area. All that cumming stimulated
Ross to fill Andy's ass with his teen cum.

When it came time to sleep, we didn't pair up by boyfriend—Phil slept with
Andy in Andy's bed and Ross and I slept together in Ross's sleeping bag.
Phil and Andy were so determined to not have sex that they slept in their
boxers, but they had enough desire to feel each other that they remained
shirtless. Ross and I slept nude and played with each other's junk while we
chatted.

"When are you and Phil gonna fuck?" Ross asked me.

"Make love," I reminded him.

"Yeah, make love." Ross's voice was the voice of a young teen—no longer
boyish but nowhere near the voice of a man.

"It just hasn't interested us." I checked my nose to make sure it hadn't
grown any.

"Liar," Ross scoffed. "You know what me and Andy did turned you on
tonight." I didn't disagree.

"Maybe we'll do it someday," I mumbled.

"Doing it to start the New Year would be cool." New Year's Day was three
days away.

"I suppose."

"Look, dude, I know we just met and I know what you and your boyfriend do
in bed is none of my business, but damn, making love is what it's all about."

"We like to hump each other. That's what we did tonight. We figure that's
like making love."

"Humping ain't shit. Fucking is ten thousand times better—maybe a
hundred thousand times. Quit being scared of it and do it." I didn't want to
argue the point so I didn't say anything. Actually, I couldn't argue the point
because I knew he was right.

We could tell that Phil and Andy had fallen asleep. Neither one of us talked
as we jerked each other off, leaving our cum on ourselves and on the lining
of the sleeping bag.

The next day was a busy day for the four of us, and that night was busier.
We were still horny and set up a daisy chain on the floor of Andy's
bedroom. Andy sucked Ross, who sucked Phil, who sucked me, who
sucked Andy.

I have no idea why Phil and Andy decided not to be sexual with each other,
even in the daisy chain. Phil told me later that they wanted to be friends
and have the great times they'd had in bed as part of their memories. I told
him he was full of bullshit, and he laughed at me.

"You're the only person other than my brother who I've loved more than
Andy. That's why we decided never to have sex together again."

"I call bullshit again. Andy is one sexy dude."

"I know...I know."

Sometimes Phil was tough to figure out. Okay, Phil was OFTEN tough to
figure out.

That second night we slept together as boyfriends—Phil with me and Ross
with Andy.

Before we left Andy's house, he added his two bits on making love. "Do it,"
he told us. "You won't ever be sorry."

Ross and Andy weren't the only ones to prod us on the subject of making
love.

"You keep talking about real sex," Q told me the next night. I spent the
night with him while Phil spent the night with Ben. "Fucking is real sex. I
mean I've done it and I'm not even gay. You two are boyfriends, so go get
fucked." Phil told me later that Ben had all but seduced him that night.

Perry and Jung both talked to us about the wonders of anal sex as well.
Talk about getting peer pressure. But then, we were the only Wonkeys with
virgin butts. Everybody knew that when Phil and I lost our virginity ("IF we
lose it," I reminded them) it would be to each other.

Phil spent New Year's Eve at my house and we saw the New Year come in
with my parents. When we saw the fireworks explode over the Space
Needle on TV, Phil and I hugged each other and then in a "to hell with it"
moment we kissed each other—on the lips. We hadn't planned the kiss; it
was more of an instinctive act. After our kiss we toasted my parents and
belted down our glasses of sparkling cider. I waited for mom or dad to say
something about the kiss, but they pretended like it had never happened.
But they did see it and they didn't forget it.

We were both pretty tired as we readied for bed. Since we'd been wearing
only boxers, t-shirt, and socks, it didn't take us long to strip, take care of our
bladders and teeth, and climb into bed together.

"Do you think your mom and dad know?" Phil asked me as I turned out the
light.

"Well, they did see us kiss. And they know we sleep together and we aren't
little kids anymore." Amazing how a pair of twelve-year-olds no longer
considered themselves little kids.

"I want to fuck you," Phil said out of the blue.

"Now? Tonight?" I asked.

"No, doofus, but soon. I want to make love to you."

"We're only twelve," I protested as I suddenly saw us as little kids again.

"Jeez, so is everybody else we know who is fucking each other. But I don't
want to just fuck you, I want to make love to you. What do you think?"

My mind came back to the present. My life partner had just proposed
marriage to me, which of course brought my mind to Phil proposing to
make love to me before we'd even become teenagers. I thought it
interesting that both times Phil was the one doing the asking and I was the
one being asked. I wondered if that was why I was the bottom more often
than not.

I picked up a letter from the coffee table—it had arrived in the mail the day
before. It was from Andy, who wanted to communicate in his own hand
rather than by email. That was the way Andy was; he liked the personal
touch. He's been married to Lance for two years and told us it was now our
time. Andy had made and lost a few boyfriends through middle school and
high school. He and Lance met during their junior year in college, and this
time the relationship was the real thing. He knew ours was, too, and it was
time for us to make if official.  By the way, as adults we've never heard
what happened to Ross – Andy never mentions him and Phil and I have
never asked.

Ironically Andy, along with the same Wonkeys who had told us it was time
to make love, was now telling us it was time to get married. My former
players said it was time, my current players told us it was time, even some
of my fellow teachers told us.

Just like when we were twelve the pressure was on from the outside to take
our relationship to the next level. And just like I knew what I wanted when I
was twelve, I knew what I wanted now.

Next: The Wonder of Love