This is a story involving teen/teen, male/male graphic sex and not intended for reading by minors. If you are a minor, or this type of material is illegal where you live, please stop now, and go read something else! This story is a fantasy meant only for the purpose of pleasurable reading.
For those of you who've asked, other stories of mine in this archive are: Boy in a Pink Box, Vancouver Island, Willow, Back to the Playground, and Babying Reuben. The stories can be found in the young friends and adult/youth sections.
Feedback, always appreciated, may be sent to: javabiscuit@hotmail.com
Corbusier ~ chapter two
by Biscuit
Colin Daley fucked me, told me to get myself a haircut and took off. Well, first he took a good look at me as he was pulling on his clothes and asked me, "Just how old are you anyway?"
I lied and said I was fifteen. He visibly shuddered. Guess I should have lied bigger.
Places to go, people to see. He didn't have time to hang around with a kid he'd just fucked who was only fifteen and needed a haircut.
In a way I was glad. I didn't know what to say to him or how to act once we weren't tearing at each other's clothes and mauling each other's bodies. In another way, I wanted to fucking kill myself.
I was like a sleepwalker, taking a shower, stripping down my bed. I washed the sheets and put them back on, like nothing had happened. I crawled into the cleaned bed and slept.
But something had definitely happened.
I was up way too early in the morning, having gone to bed at like three o'clock in the afternoon. I'd gotten up once in the night to shovel some food down and then gone back to bed. Like being sick; my brain was fogged and my body was aching.
Getting ready for school before it was even near time, I pulled my hair back tight and lingered over picking out clothes that I thought would made me look less girlish.
I didn't let myself think about Colin Daley. He was there in my head but I forced myself to focus on other stuff.
The acid green pants or anything like them were out, for sure. I put on a baggy pair of chinos that I usually liked to pair up with a trashy black lace polyester thing that I loved. No lace, no way. I whipped out a pinstriped shirt that had hung in my closet, untouched, since I'd gotten it for my birthday from my grandmother. My mom's mom. She was the only grandparent I had. It was like a tradition already, every chance she got she gave me clothes that were light years from anything I'd have ever worn. I figured it was a shirt whose time had come.
All my silver rings and chains were dumped in a pile on top of my chest of drawers; my fingers and neck were bare.
When I walked in the kitchen, my mom looked up from her coffee and squinted at me.
"Do I know you?" she laughed. I grunted, filling up my own cup with coffee, liberally lacing it with cream and sugar. The thought rose that even my coffee seemed girlish. I ought to drink it black, I thought. Yuck. At least, I told myself, I shouldn't use sugar.
Megan showed up moments later, like every school morning, to meet for the walk over. She always got there in plenty of time to have coffee with my mom and me in the morning. It would be a few years yet before she'd make me squirm by confessing that she'd always had a crush on my mom. Jesus. My mom. I guess I could see it. I mean my she's cute; thin, boyish, with feverishly bright green eyes and ruffled short blonde hair. But it made me feel pretty weird. I tried to make her swear she'd never do anything about it. She told me to fuck off.
My new look didn't go down too well with Megan.
"Jesus, Corby. Some jerk mistakes you for a girl and you go all corporate."
I suffered through her telling my mom the short version of what had happened in the park. And didn't the two of them agree all over the place about it, talking like I wasn't sitting there with my face like stone. They were right that it had hit me harder than I was willing to admit, but they had no idea what had really happened. And I didn't open my mouth except to say, "If you guys are done with the post game wrap up, it's time to get out of here." They shared a knowing look that made me groan.
Colin Daley had changed the smell of me or something. It was like my body chemistry had gotten whacked and it didn't matter how I dressed myself up. I now stunk of what I was. That's how I felt.
Right off, in my first period study group, a kid I'd known since forever, sniffed me out like I was wearing eau de gay guy.
Chad Grossman had been at that school as long as I had. We weren't buddies or anything. We knew each other, the way you do from seeing the same face for years. He was a brainy kid who was following a more academic track than I was. I hung out more with the kids who were heavy into the art courses like I was. But I liked history and he was sometimes in those classes with me. A tall, dark haired boy with round glasses who now had his legs splayed out under the table where we working, brushing up against my thigh. What the fuck? The guy was rubbing my leg with his knee.
I shifted my leg away from him but my dick had already reacted. I stole a look at him and then I wished I hadn't because he was looking back, out of the corner of his eye, grinning, and that knee of his swung even wider, rubbing unmistakably along the side of my thigh.
I was sure he'd never done anything like that before. At least I thought I was sure. I couldn't remember it if he had. In front of me on the table was a huge book on Native American artifacts. I stared down at it hard, a flutter of panic beating in my chest.
He kind of cleared his throat and sat back in his chair. I looked, I couldn't help it. The guy's loose jeans were packed at his crotch. If he didn't have a boner he was giving a good imitation.
I pretty much lost it. There were six other kids at that table with us, two to each of the other three sides of it. All of us, supposedly working on some text we were going to discuss at the end of the hour. Chad had obviously lost his fucking mind.
I mumbled something or other about feeling sick and bolted from the table, shooting out of the library with my pack. I'd scooped it up and had it in front of me like a shield, racing for the nearest bathroom.
In the empty stall I sat there like I had some reason to be there, with my pants down, just trying to get calm. It wasn't possible that Chad Grossman had just rubbed up against my leg and shown me the bulge of his hard dick. Not possible.
"Corby?" the quiet creak of the door and my name.
"Yeah," I said, frozen in horror at the sound of Chad's voice. I was staring down at my own bare legs like I'd never seen them before.
He pushed at the door to the stall.
"You got to open it," he said softly. In a million years I couldn't have guessed he expected it to be open, that he thought I was in there waiting for him. I could see his feet and ankles right at the door.
"What?"
"Open up," he actually laughed softly. And I did it. I reached over and flipped the latch up, not so scared once I heard him laugh, wondering what the hell was going on. He was in like a shot and I was eye level with his hand squeezing his boner in his jeans.
"Get your feet up," he said, sounding amused, "you know people do sometimes come in here to take a piss."
I was staring, my mouth probably hanging open, at him unzipping his pants.
There he stood, crowded right in between my knees with his hard cock in his hand, looking at me. Maybe it was the jaw drop or the fact that my face was on fire, but he suddenly got the fact that I didn't know what the fuck was going on. At least from the neck up I was clueless -- my hard dick seemed to know something good was happening, it was waving for attention from between the flaps of my pinstriped shirt.
"Oh man," he said, even more amused than before. "Get up." I guess I didn't move fast enough, he reached down and pulled me up by my armpits, trying to hold back his laughing as he pushed me back against the door and took my place on the seat, picking his feet up off the floor. He wrapped his ankles right around the backs of my knees and took hold of my hips.
Sweet fucking Jesus. Chad Grossman was sinking his mouth right down on my cock.
One time Megan had done this for me. Well, we tried to do it for each other. But we didn't like it, even though it took awhile to admit it. We just sort of agreed not to do it again. We were much better at using our hands or rubbing up against each other's legs than the mouth thing. Even the part where she was sucking me wasn't good. She kept stopping to spit, thinking I'd already come in her mouth. She mumbled something about how wet it was. Excuse me, I thought at the time, wet is what's down here, as I carefully licked her, scared of everything I touched.
But Chad Grossman didn't stop to spit once and I was coming long before I even thought about warning him. Something he'd tease me about for years.
He thought everything was pretty funny until we traded places and discovered together that I seemed to have been born to suck cock. I can't say how good it felt sliding between my lips. I wished we were any place but that stupid school bathroom. I wished a lot of things, including that Chad wasn't who he was.
It was Colin Daley I was thinking about, wishing I'd done this to him when I'd had the chance. I saw him in my mind, picturing him on his back on my bed, looking down at me with those icy eyes while I sucked him. It was his dick I was running circles around with my tongue.
Chad was okay. I mean I liked him well enough. He went back to being amused afterwards and the teasing started that wouldn't stop for the rest of the years I knew him. How many ways can a guy work the phrase, "Hey, thanks for the warning," into a conversation? As many ways as there were, he thought of them. After the first few times I turned scarlet, I've got to admit, it made me smile.
But that day, I was far from laughing. I felt like everybody knew what we'd done. The bitch of it is, some of them did. How had I gone to school with these guys without ever knowing that there were about a dozen of them who met in the bathrooms to jerk off or blow each other?
It's not that I'm stupid. I just had a lot to learn. I didn't know that I was going to a school that a lot of people sent their kids to after they found out they were gay; if they were lucky enough to be able to afford it.
Chad told me he'd been coming on to me for more than a year and I'd never noticed. Well, not until that morning.
I'd been dancing through my life, not just my school, in my own little cocoon. With Megan. I guess it took Colin Daley to open my eyes. A good thing, maybe, but it didn't feel like a good thing.
In my weird outfit, with the memory of sucking Chad's dick competing with images of fucking Coling Daley, I was hardly at home in my own skin.
Over lunch I was sullen and snapped at Megan when she asked me what was wrong. Not good. She wasn't the kind of girl to let stuff slide. We'd known each other so long. Even if there were huge gray areas we hadn't figured out yet, she knew me better than anybody else did.
"Look," she said, "I know you're fucked up over yesterday. Stop trying to pretend like nothing happened. You hit a guy, Corby. I don't think you ever thought you'd do something like that. But he deserved it."
"I don't want to talk about it any more."
"What's this any more shit, you haven't talked about it all."
"Yeah, well, drop it."
"It's more than that," she said and I got a jolt of fear up the back of my neck. But when she went on, I realized she didn't know. "It's your dad," she said, so gently. And didn't push me any further.
Christ, my dad. That was enough to turn the food in my stomach to lead.
Poor Megan. She did have the big picture, but not the close up details of what was turning me inside out. And for the first time since I'd known her, I wasn't filling her in. She wasn't just my girlfriend. She was my best friend. We'd been spending at least part of almost every single day together since we were ten years old. That's when she'd started at Amsterdam and we'd latched on to each other like soul mates.
If we hadn't been as close as we were, both of us might have figured out we were gay a lot sooner. But I wouldn't trade those years of being close to her for anything. Big deal. I didn't figure it out until I was fourteen. A lot of guys take a hell of a lot longer.
For me, the jig was just about up. Chad didn't mean to out me, he just couldn't keep his mouth shut. For all the misery I was about to be in, it would be a long time before I understood just how lucky I was. My name wasn't the only thing I wouldn't be ridiculed for in that expensive, and so very progressive school. People would find out I'd lost my cherry in the bathroom with Chad, and I'd get teased, but nobody would be looking to beat me up over it. Except Megan.
I was luckier than I knew. In so many ways. I was a well insulated, wealthy kid who didn't know he had a silver spoon the size of a shovel in his mouth.
Yeah, I was fucked up over my dad leaving home and my mom dancing at the verge of some kind of breakdown, in spite of how cheerful she was acting. And I was fucked up over Colin Daley. Megan was about to start hating me for awhile. But I had it so much easier than so many guys I've met since.