WARNING: This story contains sexually-explicit information involving alternative sexualities. Do not list read the contents if they will offend you. If accessing this story causes you to break local laws (village, town, city, county, province, state, or country, etc.), please leave now.
This story is for you, Mike. I hope it finds its way home.
Chapter 2. A TALENT FOR SECRETS
The thing I always notice about Donny, and what I remember when he's not around, is that he's pretty - almost too pretty. He doesn't act like a pretty boy, but he has these big, liquid eyes that deserve to be on a girl, and a tumble of dark curls frame his cream-colored face. It's definitely a boy face, and a strong, chunky boy body with an ass so round I call him Bubblebutt. But he's prettier than a boy deserves to be. Probably the best thing about him is that he has no idea he's good looking. He thinks that because he wears glasses he's automatically ugly.
How do I know him? We went to the same junior high school and the same high school, until I had to transfer in the beginning of eleventh grade. He's the only Jewish boy I know, the only person whose parents are divorced; and he lives with his mother in the biggest house in our neighborhood. In spite of all that, he's a pretty regular guy at my old school, except he's smarter than most of us, and he doesn't go out with girls.
Donny and I found ourselves in the same places a lot. We were on the debate team together, and we were both in the school orchestra. He was sitting across from me in Latin class when we heard that President Kennedy had been shot, so he was the first person I looked at in that moment of disbelief. We got the two highest scores for language on some statewide test - this got turned into a big deal since we went to the same school. Sometimes he and I would study together; sometimes we'd just hang out. I liked going to his house because we could do pretty much anything we wanted since his mother never seemed to be around. We've been spending time together for a year, but I could never say for sure that I know what was going on for Donny. He doesn't talk about himself, and he's a lot more serious than people like Mike and the rowdies I hang around with now.
I did start to pick up clues that Donny might be hot for me - or his version of hot, which, I guess, would be more like smoldering. Whenever I looked up in class, I'd catch him looking at me. Sometimes he'd smile, but usually, he'd instantly look away. He started sitting next to me in math. When class got dull, he'd draw and label the reproductive organs of plants in the margins of my geometry book. That made me laugh, and it impressed me. I couldn't be sure, but it seemed like Donny touched me more than most people - or maybe just in a different way from the usual backslapping and jabbing. He'd put his hand on my arm when he was talking to me, or sometimes he'd touch my face the way old people do. Or we'd be walking along and he'd jump me and wrestle me to the ground "just for fun." It was fun, but it wasn't like regular horseplay. Was there something behind it, or did I just want there to be?
At the beginning of the summer after tenth grade, Donny's mom took him to Europe for a month. I got a postcard, and he called me the day after he got home. He said he'd had a great time and talked about a lot of places I've never been and don't know much about. The kids he'd gotten to know over there sounded a lot more cool than anybody I know. I admit I was jealous.
A few days later, he called on a hot-as-hell afternoon. "Hey, Reed, why don't you come over and we'll go for a swim?"
"We can't swim in that bathtub in your back yard, man."
"Okay, why don't you come over and we'll play in the water? I haven't seen you in like forever, man."
"Cool. But I promised Dad I'd mow the lawn today. What about tomorrow?"
"Today's better. My mom's out, and the maid's still off; we'll have the place to ourselves. We can hit the liquor cabinet. C'mon."
"Oh, man, my daddy is gonna be pissed. I was supposed to mow yesterday."
"So...when will you be here?"
"Fifteen minutes. I gotta make up something and call him at work."
When I get there, I'm surprised. Donny has a tan, which I've never seen on him before. (He's usually either very pale, or he's sunburned.) He looks kind of amazing this color. And his face has changed somehow; he seems older. Plus, he's got a keyed-up energy about him, like he's just won a bike race or a debate. All this makes me edgy. We pour scotch into glasses of Coke, which helps. He's still talking about the trip, which I kind of do and don't want to hear about. I probably don't do as good a job of hiding that as I ought to.
"Wanna go get wet," he asks.
"You bet."
"C'mon up and let's get changed."
I already think maybe one of the reasons he's asked me to come over to swim is just this - so we can get out of our clothes together. We've seen each other naked in gym lots of times, but I've never been swimming at his house before. Undressing together in his room, my hands are sweating, and there's a tingling in my balls. I know he's watching me; he knows I'm watching him. Neither one of us can come up with anything to say.
Donny strips down and puts on this swimsuit that's not even as big as a jock strap. It's something you would never wear - even under a swimsuit -- at school. I can't help but stare, and I see his skin turn pink beneath the tan across his chest, up his neck, and over his face.
"What the hell are you wearing, Donny?"
"I got it on the Riviera. It's what all the guys wear in Europe. You like it?"
"Well...I...I don't think it'd be a good idea to wear it to the pool club."
"I wore it on the beach in Italy, but don't worry; I know better than to wear it anywhere but home here."
"You wore that in front of your mother!"
"She's pretty open minded, Reed; you'd be surprised. And besides, everybody wears them over there. Feel it. It feels cool."
There's nothing to feel that's not a couple of inches from his dick or his asshole. I touch the top, right in front, and, sure enough, his dick pulses - just once, but I see it - right below my hand. I have to admit I think it's weird that Donny is getting turned on by wearing funny clothes. I don't really like it, but I don't hate it either. My dick smells action. Donny's hot; he's making me hot.
So I do what I figure he wants me to do; I cup the cock and balls stretching at that little cloth pouch and squeeze hard enough for him to know I'm not just feeling his swimsuit. You should see his face change. Everything about him changes. First of all, he grins at me - this big shit-eating grin. Then it's like his whole body relaxes. That energy I felt on him when I got here drains off somewhere. I feel pretty good myself.
"I thought you'd like it," he says. Right away, he puts his hand on my all-too-ready dick. He wrestles my hardon free from where it's somehow tangled up in my suit, kneels down right there in front of me, and buries his face in my pubic hair. I can hear him breathing in deep. Last year I learned to suck cock from my cousin, who's two years older than I am, so I know what crotch smells like, and I can't see why anyone would want to smell mine like this. But Donny looks like he knows exactly what he wants, and pretty soon it's clear he's learned to suck cock from somebody too.
He nibbles at mine, which is so hard it almost hurts. He licks the head. I want him to put the whole thing in his mouth, so I sink my hands in his hair and urge him toward me. But he's got his own ideas. He goes down on me part of the way, then he backs off, licks me, scrapes his teeth on me just a little (wow!), then takes further into his mouth again. I like it but I can't get a rhythm going; I want to be plunging into his face over and over again. Then he takes his mouth off my dick and starts to lick down toward my balls. When his tongue touches my sack, I nearly jump out of my skin.
"Goddamn! What the fuck?"
He's laughing. "You don't like it?"
"No, man, it's...like...too much feeling."
"C'mon, Reed. Relax. You'll get to like it; I promise."
"Right," I think, "I'm supposed to like a guy licking my nuts. Next he'll be telling me I'd like getting my ass kissed."
Hell, what do I know? I try to let him do it again, but it tickles, it makes my skin crawl; it's just too much. Besides, I want to suck him too. I reach down to feel his dick, which turns out to be fat and kind of short. But the shocker is that it's completely slippery; he's already shot his load without letting on.
"Donny, did you cum already?"
"Yep, but I can cum again."
"Good for you," I think, but I'm disappointed. I wanted to suck him, but there's no way I'm gonna put my mouth on a dick that's got cum all over it.
He's starting to suck me like he means it now, the way I wanted him to at the beginning, pulling my dick almost all the way out, then going all the way down to the bottom of it. He's been practicing somewhere; he's way better than my cousin. He pulls me so far into his mouth that I can feel something squeeze around the head of my dick at the back of his throat. He holds me there for a few seconds, pulls away and gasps for air, and then does it again. I don't know how he's doing this, but I know it's sending me to the moon.
"You gotta stop, Donny. You're makin me cum, man."
He keeps doing it, and I'm thinking I'm gonna shoot in his mouth, which my cousin would never let me do, and I wonder if Donny realizes this.
"Donny...Donny, I'm gonna cum in your mouth if you don't let go."
I guess Donny wants me to cum in his mouth - not that I'm in much of a position to decide anymore. He goes all the way down again so the tip of my dick is in that really tight place, and I start thrashing around and bucking like a crazy man, holding onto Donny's shoulders to keep from falling over. He wants to keep sucking even after I'm finished, but I have to pull him off because my dick is too sensitive to stand being touched anymore. When I look at him, his face is all pink, and his eyes are sparkling; he looks like a goddamned angel (or whatever the Jewish equivalent of an angel is), but he's grinning like the devil.
I'm trembling. I lie down - practically fall down - on the floor. "Holy shit, man, where'd you learn to do that?"
"Same place I got my swimsuit," he chuckles. C'mon, get up. I thought you said you were ready to get wet." .....
Donny's taught me plenty since that afternoon. One of my absolute favorite things about him is that he likes to get fucked - no, he loves to get fucked. I had fucked my cousin - the one who taught me about sucking cock - twice, and I liked it a lot. But he said it hurt, so I wouldn't let him do it to me. I can't really figure out how anybody could stand to have a dick up his ass, but all I have to do is look at Donny to see he's not kidding about wanting it. When I start to fuck him, once I get past that tight place and he gets used to me, something happens to him. He turns those big eyes on me, and it's like he's opening up, wanting to take more and more. I'm always afraid I'll hurt him, but the longer I last, the harder fuck him, the happier he is. A lot of times he cums just from me inside him, without even touching his dick. When I cum, often as not he says, "Don't stop, Reed. I know you can do it again." A lot of times he's right.
.........
Feel free to send comments and constructive criticism to reed@dreamwriter.us.