Typography Note: Sentences in [brackets] represent the narrator's unspoken thoughts.
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Coming of Age in Texas: Chapter 13: Underwear Party
As promised, Mike was in and out—home for a few days, gone for a few days, and so on and so on. Once, he even went to Washington with a group of executives from Lexus and other car companies to testify about automobile safety. Lexus had sent engineers and lawyers as well as vice presidents. Mike's role was just to add some "star power," and it evidently worked because the hearing was covered live by CNN, ESPN, MSNBC, and C-SPAN and reported on all the evening newscasts. We watched it on the new big-screen TV that Mike had given us and, of course, recorded it.
Mike surprised everyone, including the team from Lexus, with his knowledge of the subject. He demonstrated a reasonable knowledge of the engineering issues, but he seemed to understand the legal issues at least well as the lawyers and much better than the Congressmen. I knew that Mike had taken a course in business law at UT, but his expertise went way beyond that. He had done his homework, and it showed.
Leaving the capitol, Mike was mobbed by reporters, and he had to fly to New York for a few days to accept all the requests from Ellen DeGeneres, Andy Cohen, Stephen Colbert, and other talk show hosts. He was no longer a celebrity; he was a sensation and was dubbed "America's Most Eligible Bachelor."
The day that Mike got back home, he got a call from his agent informing him that Lexus had tripled his consulting contract and would be sending him a very large bonus. When Mike thanked his agent for his hard work on his behalf, the agent said, "I should probably tell you I sweated bullets to get that money, but the truth is that it was not a hard sell at all." Still, Mike shared the bonus with his agent.
When he was home, Mike always made time to work with Troy. Neither he nor I ever explicitly told Troy of our conspiracy. We just made it seem like spontaneous football, but it was obvious to me and probably to Johnny that Mike was actually coaching Troy, and by the time we got to the next football camp, the results were clearly evident. Coach Davis was pleased to say the least.
Like many of the guys on the football team, Troy had put up a picture of Mike inside his locker door when he first came to our school, but I noticed that he had replaced it with a different one. I asked him why he didn't use the one that Mike had sent him for Christmas. "Oh, I don't want to ruin that one," he said. "That one is now framed and hanging on the wall in my bedroom."
Over the next several days, Troy added smaller pictures in a collage around the big one in the center. Most of the guys had posted pictures that highlighted the female models, but I noticed that Troy had posted some with the male models. Even though I had been present for some of the photo shoots, I had not seen those particular ads in print, so I asked him where he had gotten them, and the next day he slipped me a piece of paper listing several URLs.
When I got home, I learned that these were Websites catering to gay men, and some of them were downright pornographic, but there in a side panel were Andrew Christian ads featuring Mike in his seductive underwear with links to other sites with even more provocative pictures. Suddenly, I understood why the photographers had taken photographs that were far too sultry to appear in mainstream magazines. Those photos were not for the mainstream magazines; they were for these Websites. At first, I was shocked, but then I realized that if Ben Cohen had no objections to being featured in gay magazines, why not Mike? After that realization, it suddenly dawned on me: What was Troy doing on those sites anyway?
Martin Luther King's Birthday Weekend found everyone away except Troy and me. His mom had to spend the weekend at a palliative care seminar in Fort Worth. The Andersens, including Johnny, decided to get away to Cancun for the weekend. Mike flew back to New York to fit together the final arrangements for our upcoming trip to Greece and Italy, and he took Mom and Dad with him to take in a couple of Broadway plays. Because of Mike's celebrity status, they were invited backstage to meet the performers.
Troy had been asking me about our photo shoots in anticipation of his and ours. He had not been to either of our football camps when Johnny and I told our stories, so he had only heard second-hand accounts from other players. After some prodding, I finally admitted that there was more to the stories.
"Why don't you come by my place on Sunday?" I suggested. "I'll show you some pictures that didn't make the ads."
When Troy arrived Sunday afternoon, I led him to my room. I began by showing him prints that had made it into some ads, and then the ones that didn't.
"Oh, I've seen that one in an ad," he said. "It was a picture of Mike with a couple of the male models."
"Online?" I asked, and he confirmed my suspicion.
"If you think that's something," I said "wait until you get a load of this one," and I flipped to the back of the album and showed him a print of the same scene but with the models fully exposed. I thought his eyes were going to pop out of his head. What's more, I thought something was about to pop out of his pants as well. And mine too.
"It's warm in here," I said. "Would you like something to drink?" He nodded yes, and I went down to the kitchen and brought back two Pepsis.
"So, where did you get all that sexy underwear I see you wearing in the locker room?" he asked. He already knew that Armando had given Johnny and me a pair of swimsuits to wear to the beach, but he didn't know that Armando and Claude had given us the entire batches.
"I've got them all in a suitcase," I said. "Wanna see?"
Troy jumped at the chance. In fact, the intensity of his enthusiasm surprised me a little, but I thought it was flattering. And cute.
I began the "swimsuit and underwear tour" by showing him the one that I had worn to the beach in Hawaii the first day...or rather...the replacement that Armando had sent me.
"Were you actually able to fit into that thing?" he asked. "I mean, you are awfully big down there."
I chuckled, and I don't know what possessed me, but I said, "Here, I'll show you." I didn't think anything of stripping in front of Troy since he had seen me naked in the locker room and in the showers. Then, I put on the infamous red-and-white swimsuit that Armando had selected for me and modeled it for Troy.
I had to laugh when Troy whistled. I took it as friendly teasing from a teammate.
Still in that swimsuit, I invited Troy to rifle through the array of swimsuits and underwear in the suitcase. One by one, we pulled out items and talked about which of our teammates and classmates would look good—or not—in each one. Then, we giggled like a couple of tweenage girls as we talked about which of our teachers would look good or not.
"I've never seen you wear this one at school," he gasped, holding up a brief with a transparent pouch.
"Are you kidding?" I gasped back. "The guys would never let me hear the end of it. Besides," I winked, "That one's for `special' occasions."
Troy winked back.
"Oh, you would never be able to get into this one," said Troy, holding up an ultra-skimpy bikini.
"No," I conceded, "but maybe you would." When he threw me a funny look, I explained, "Not to say that you're small; you're just not as big as I am."
"Nobody's as big as you, champ." [Champ? Where did that come from? You must have heard Mike or Johnny call me that sometime.]
I laughed and then said, "Why don't you try it on and see?"
"You're sure?" he asked.
Just as he had seen me naked before, I had seen him naked in the locker room, so I really didn't think anything of it.
Troy stripped and put on the skimpy bikini. He actually looked pretty good in it. "Not bad," I said, "as long as you don't pop a boner." We both laughed, but I thought I did see his cock twitch. "Or maybe you'd look even better in it with a boner," I dared to say.
When he took it off, I suggested that while he was still naked, he try on some of the other items. A couple of times, I helped him adjust the fabric as Armando had done for me. "Oooh," he said. "You'd better stop that if you don't want me to pop a hole in this thing."
When we had gone through about half of the items, Troy, once again completely naked, asked me to tell him more about how we had met the Swedish college students on the beach. I did, and this time, I omitted none of the juicy details.
"Holy shit!" he exclaimed. "They actually kissed you with your cum in their mouths?"
"My cum, Johnny's cum, and our cum mixed together."
Troy seemed so shocked that he grabbed a pillow off the bed and covered his face with it.
"I've grossed you out, Troy. I'm so sorry."
"Are you kidding, man?" he asked, dropping the pillow to his lap to cover his growing cock. "That is sooooo fucking hot. I would kill for an experience like that?"
"So, you've eaten your own cum?" I asked.
"All the time," he replied. "I love it."
Fearing that I was about to cross a line, I ventured, "Have you ever eaten someone else's?"
"Yeah," he confessed, "a few times, but we've never swapped cum like that."
"So, you've sucked cock?" I dared ask.
"A few," he confirmed.
"Bet you've never sucked one this big," I said, pulling down my swimsuit.
Troy practically dove for my cock and swallowed as much of it as he could. He was much more talented than any of the Texas girls who had sucked my dick. I'd put him on a par with the Swedish women.
Troy had my cock rock hard and extended to its full seven inches in no time. All my inhibitions, all of my pent-up frustrations flew out the window. I had to have him. I shoved him back on the bed and crawled on top of him. I pinned him to the bed and sank my tongue into his mouth. I was determined to lick his tonsils. It was so unlike me. I had never kissed a boy, and it wasn't my nature to be so aggressive. I slid up his body to his shoulders, grabbed the back of his head, thrust my cock into his mouth, and began fucking his face.
My term as the vandal was short-lived, though. Troy flipped me and took the role of alpha male. He stretched my body out and lay on top of me. The scratching of his fur against my skin drove me wild. Our hard dicks rubbed against each other as he kissed me, alternating between deep, aggressive kisses and soft, loving ones. I would never have imagined that a boy could kiss like that.
He pulled back and just stared at my face as if he were studying a painting. Then he leaned slowly toward me, but instead of kissing my lips, he gently kissed my forehead and then my eyelids. He kissed his way across my right temple and over to my ear, which he took deliberately into his mouth and massaged with his tongue. He gently nibbled on my ear lobe and then worked his way back across my face to the left ear.
He kissed my cheeks, jaw, and chin, and then he retraced his steps, licking my face instead of kissing it. He licked his way down my neck and all across my chest to my arm pits. When he got to my nipples, he licked first and then sucked. I had never entertained the thought that my nipples could be so sensitive or so sensual.
He licked his way down to my navel and swirled his tongue around there before moving down to my pubic region. He didn't just lick my pubic hairs, he sucked on them as if they provided some sort of life-affirming nectar. He rubbed his stubbled cheeks over my dick but did not lick or suck it. Instead, he bypassed that organ and moved on to my balls, which he licked and then sucked, taking each one into his mouth separately.
Surely he will return to my aching cock now, I thought, but he didn't. He continued on his course and licked my perineum, again sucking on the hairs there. Finally—[oh please, God, please]—he made his way back to the base of my cock, where he paused to look up at me and smile. His eyes said, "I've got you now. You're mine, Achilles."
Seeing the sweet agony in my face, he licked my cock slowly from the base to the tip, his eyes still sending intoxicating darts into my soul. [Oh, God, please, please, please, make him do it. Now dammit!] He licked a spiral path from the base of my cock to the tip and teased the piss slit before slowly slipping his lips over my helmet. Then, without warning, he plunged his mouth down over my cock, digging as far as he could before gagging and having to relent.
"You're too fucking big, stud," he choked.
"Sorry," I squealed.
He smiled, "But you're so fucking hot, I've got to have you."
He lunged at my cock again and took in as much as he could manage. When he had to concede that he could not take it all, he wrapped one hand around the bottom half of my shaft and concentrated his oral ministrations on the top half. He pumped and sucked in unison.
The girls who had sucked me off merely rubbed my penis with their lips, but Troy actually sucked it, applying pressure with his tongue. His technique was amazing for someone who claimed to have limited experience.
My cock grew so tight that I thought the skin would flake off. Electric shocks flashed from my dick through my entire body. I felt as if I were caught in a lightning storm.
My cock began to throb, driving me to clench my teeth and claw at the bedspread until at last I exploded into his mouth with the force of a torpedo. To the extent that I was sentient at all, I imagined that I must have killed Troy. Surely I blasted a hole through the back of his skull.
Then I came again and again and again and... And with each thrust, I shook so violently that I thought I would propel myself off the bed and onto the floor...or wherever one goes after such an explosive experience.
I felt as if every cell of my body had been turned inside out, sucked into a Texas cyclone, and blasted into the clouds. I thought the aftershocks would never stop, but when they began to wane and I regained enough strength to open my eyes again, I saw the face of an angel. Troy gently pulled my chin down to open my mouth. Then he opened his and let the cream flow gracefully into my mouth. I choked on the first few drops, but Troy softly caressed my neck.
The juice just kept coming, and coming, and coming. How was it possible that my body could produce so much cum? How was it possible that Troy could hold that much in his mouth?
As the juice oozed down from Troy's mouth, some missed the target and landed around my face, but Troy licked it all up and shoveled it into my mouth with his tongue, which he inserted into my mouth, stirring the salty-sweet sustenance around, kissing me softly and then aggressively and then softly again.
When all of the pudding had found its way down my throat or Troy's, I scanned his beautiful body with my eyes to discover that he was still hard as a rock. I tried to get up, but I was too exhausted. "Easy, stud, easy," he said.
I pointed to his stiff shaft and tried to speak, but the words would not come. "It's all right," he comforted me. "There's plenty of time. We can take care of that later."
Totally drained, I did not even realize that I had dozed off. I have no idea how much time passed before I woke up to find Troy's head nestled against my shoulder and his hand cupping my balls. After several attempts, I finally managed to stand up and Troy began to stir, and that's when it hit, that call emanating from downstairs.
"Rick! Rick! Are you here?"
"Oh shit! It's Johnny!"