Chapter Three:
I made it back to school with about 5 minutes to spare so I raced to my sixth period. Thank GOD the registration gestapo gave me an elective class that didn't require 20 hours of homework per week. Film Appreciation. A slacker's dream.
I got in the door and quickly scanned the classroom for my boy. I spotted Chris at his usual table, sitting by himself flipping through the latest Sporting News. God, he was so cute. The way he perched his head in his hand as he sat there. How his bangs glided across his forehead. How his--
"Hey Josh! Get over here, bizznitch." My inner-reverie was broken by a guy named Jason. See, in this class we sat in groups at tables and we worked together and all that great crap. Jason was a short, kinda stocky kid who liked to believe that he was a "straight up G from the west si-EED". I sat down in my chair and chucked my backpack under the table and fiddled with my keychain, it was all I could do not to rush over and have my way with my secret love.
Mr. Palmer, the basketball coach (and when he could find the time, he also taught a few classes), walked into the room, late at usual and hurried to set up the LCD projector. Of course, I took the extra time to gaze at Chris. I watched as he squinted and looked out the window into the dreary May shower that was soaking the world outside. I felt my heart begin to flutter as he sighed and ran his fingers through his golden hair. All too soon, however, the lights went off and the projector went on and I was going to sit through some old black and white movie about a border town in Texas. But hey... the chick from Psycho is in it! Score. Give me a break.
After an eternity, the damn movie was finally over and I was left with about 10 minutes of the school day to sit there. I was about to begin my covert oogling but I was interrupted by a chattering chipmunk, or in our culture what would be called an in crowder. This make of the model was named Carrie.
She wasn't that bad. It was just that she felt the need to transform me from the happy content loner that I was into some smiling, cheery on the surface, hateful inside socially inept loner. I wish she'd quit it.
"Oh my god! Josh! You have got to come to my house tommorow! Oh my gosh... it's not even a question. Say you'll come." She squealed.
After stiffling laughter, I said to her, "Why would I do that? Did you get a new scrunchie?"
"Oh my god...you're such a nut. That's so cute. No, seriously. No. My parents are vapor for the weekend. I'm totally telling you the truth." Of course, she had to prepare herself for the next few lines, "I'm throwing a party! Everyone is gonna be there. Ya know...the whole crowd. Jennie, Rob, Ethan, Janie, Chris, Michael, but only if his--"
"Wait a minute." I cut in, "Who did you just say was going to be there?"
"Huh? Oh...Chris? Or Janie? Yeah! Janie! She's gonna be there because her mom said her grades were good enough to get out of the house for the weekend. Janie's cu-ute, huh? Do you like her? She's grown up alot since first grade, huh? I remember that one time--"
"Yeah. Janie is quite a hottie." I cut her off again, something far more important than Janie's little problem with "lemonade" in the middle of recess, "Listen, I'll come to the party but promise me that you won't try and fix me up with anyone. Ok?"
"It's a deal. Be there at 4:30. Besides, if you get annoyed, you can always go up to my room and watch TV. It's funny. Chris said that exact same thing that you did a second ago. Weird, huh? It's like that song that Alanis did about--"
After the word "weird", I just wasn't listening anymore. The mere concept that Chris and I thought the same way about something was just too much. I sat there as Carrie droned on and was saved at last by the bell ringing. I wasn't looking as I went out the door and I felt someone run into me. I looked to see who it was so I could .... apologize. It was him.
"Hey, sorry about that. " He said. Damn, this sweetheart was so amazing. 10 years in the public school system hadn't stamped it out. "I didn't mean to run into you there."
"It's all right," I said, my voice cracking at the worst time. I swallowed and composed myself. "I'm ok. I think it's all that lead paint I ate in first grade."
He laughed and walked beside me down the hallway. "Hey. Are you going to Carrie's party on Saturday? She said she was going to invite you. I think she was pretty hopeful that you'd say yes. Did you?"
"Ummm... yeah. I did." I was a tad thrown off by this interest, "I'll be there. I probably won't stay long, though. I can only take so much of the in-crowd."
He laughed. "I know what you mean. I can feel my IQ going down just being in the same room with them. Maybe I'll see you there. We can keep each other company."
"Yeah. Maybe. See ya later." I blurted out in a harsher tone than I had intended. I could see the surprise in his face. I tried to retract. "I'll be there. You'll be there. What else do we need to worry about?"
He smiled again and his green eyes lit up, "Cool, man. I'll look for ya." With that, he turned and took off towards the parking lot. Through discreet inquiries, I knew that his older brother threatened to leave him there if he wasn't ready to leave at EXACTLY 2:30pm ON THE BUTTON.
After he was out of my eyesight, I put my hand to my heart and stood there. I felt so bad for what I had said but some internal safetylock kept me from ever getting too close.
Chris and I had known each other since 1st grade. Thanks to the feeder system, all of us went through elementary, middle, and high school together with very little variety. I had seen Chris grow from the stubby, chubby little age seven to the virile sixteen he was now. Even when we were younger, I was always fascinated in him. I loved to talk to him and hear how he felt and just listen to his voice. Back then, I had no other desires except to feel his presence and personality. But even at that age, I never got too close to him. I always balked when he asked if I wanted to come over or hang out after school and it hurt me so much.
When I was 13, I started having feelings for other guys and of course, there was Chris. I knew immediately that he was the one I wanted and the attraction made so much more sense when I'd take into account he feelings I'd had for him before. Even in high school, he'd still talk to me and make really friendly, sincere gestures towards me and I still just couldn't let him in. I was sure that if I got to know him too well, I'd eventually hear him make some joke about "faggots" or he'd find some girl and I'd go insane looking at their love and affection. It was torture. And I was only sixteen years old. Something was wrong with that.
As I drove home, I kept replaying in my head what had happened. I kept thinking of his voice and his smile and his cute little dimple-- good lord. Before I knew it, my jeans were tenting out quite impressively. I remembered my dream that morning and the parts I could recall combined with my libido would result in a real nuke of an orgasm and I knew that when I got home, I was going to have to wage war.
I pulled my car into the drive way and rushed into the house. I had nothing to worry about since my mom and dad were both working all day. I hurried up the stairs and into my room where I tossed my backpack onto my worn out easy chair.
Wait, wait a minute. I calmed myself down. You have a days worth of jizz in your nuts. Enjoy it. Make love. Not rape.
I shivered for a moment and walked over to my large wall mirror which stood on the wall opposite the end of my bed. I smiled as my cock pulsed in my boxers. I sat down on the bed and pulled off my boots and socks, then I layed back on the floor and pulled off my baggy jeans. Soon my sweatshirt followed and I sat there in my undershirt and boxers, which by now had a rather noticeable wetspot on the tip of the tent.
Off came the undershirt, exposing my slim frame. I had a nice six pack going for me, which I was proud of. I hooked the waistband of my boxers under my thumbs and pulled them off. I took a moment to look at my naked body sitting there, then I slid down onto the floor with my back against my bed. I sighed as I slowly ran my hand over the front of my body, gently pinching and flicking the hard nipples. I ran my fingers down my abdominal muscles and through my light brown pubes.
I spread my legs a bit and wrapped my left hand around my throbbing dick. I stroked it a few times, producing a nice wet gob of precum which I used to lube my shaft. Slowly, I began to gently rub my thighs with my right hand and soon found my way over to my swollen ballsac. I gave the plump nuts a squeeze and moaned as a wave of euphoria ran through my body, causing my toes to curl and uncurl. Soon, my cock was dribbling precum steadily and I wet my middle finger with the sticky goo. I let my head fall back on the bed as I eased my finger gently between my firm round asscheeks. The tip came in contact with my rosebud and I kept going. Sliding my finger into my most intimate opening. I felt the cum begin to rise into my cock and I knew that I'd shoot rather soon.
I took a deep breath and steadied myself. I found my favorite fantasy: Chris naked in front of me, legs in the air, tight pink hole bared to only my eyes... Then at the right moment, I buried my finger into my hot hole, jamming it against my prostate gland. I let out a loud groan as I pumped my cock as fast as I could. Several white globs of cum shot out onto my bare legs and thighs as I jerked myself. My body shivered and I whimpered as the last of my orgasm subsided. This one was better than ever, I felt it all the way down to the bottoms of my feet.
I don't know how long I sat there. I just sat against the bed and recovered, the sticky globs of cum beginning to congeal on my legs. When I trusted myself to move, I helped myself up and grabbed my boxer shorts and wiped myself off. I shivered one last time and chucked the soiled underwear into my hamper and pulled a fresh pair out of my dresser. It was Friday night. T.G.I.F. Need I say more?
Chapter Four:
"Why don't you wear those nice Eddie Bauer pants that your grandmother got you? What do you call them? Cords?" My mom droned. It was Saturday afternoon and I had about half an hour before the party, but that didn't stop my dear mother from critique-ing my outfit.
"I don't wanna change, mom. I think I look pretty good." And I did! I was attired in a pair of baggy Levis and a blue and white striped Nike shirt. I looked good. Not quite the prep crowd stud, but still pretty good. Everytime I thought about my outfit, I began to think about what Chris would be wearing. And then I thought about what would be under those clothes...
"Well, I don't see what's wrong with looking nice at a party. Carrie Spencer invited you to a party at her house and you seem to feel the need to dress like a homeless European soccer player. I don't know, Josh. I never had this happen with your brothers." My mom hit a nerve.
"Well, you know what? I'm not like my brothers. Has it taken you that long to realize that? They were right handed. I'm left handed. They liked baseball, I like soccer. They liked Metallica, I like Aerosmith. They liked girls. I like gu--" Whoops. I tried to save myself. "I like GOOD, nice girls. They liked the slutty ones." I knew that would get her going, but I couldn't help myself.
"Why do you have to talk like that?! Your brothers were good to you. They prepared you for the harsh world--"
"Yeah, mom. I know." I couldn't stand it when she defended them like that. No matter how many car trunks they locked me into or how many of my toys they broke, it was always excusable to her. "Anyways, I have to go. I promised Carrie I'd help her set up. See ya later tonight."
With that, I rushed out the door without waiting for a response. I had better things to do tonight than sit around and be the suffering, put upon youngest brother. I climbed in my car and turned on the radio and started the engine. As I drove through my wonderful little neighborhood, I thought more and more about the party. All I could think about was Chris. In a social setting. Without school to get in the way. It was a rare free opportunity to see him outside of classes without being alone. It was gonna be great.
I rang the doorbell and stood patiently outside Carrie's front door. I checked around to make sure none of the upperclass neighbors had called the police to report a "gangly young ruffian harassing the Spencer house". I chuckled to myself as the door opened and Carrie let me in.
"Hi Josh! How are you? I'm so glad you could come! Come on in. Not everyone is here yet but that's cool because we have... refreshments. Oh my god... are the chips getting stale? You haven't had one yet. Anyways, have a good time, 'kay?" Before she ran off, I caught her with one last question.
"Ummm... is Chris here yet?" I tried to play it as cool as possible. "He said he was going to tryout for the soccer team and he asked me to give him some advice... on how to make-- uh, on how to make the team." Oooh. Good one, Joshie.
"Chris said he's going to be a little late. When I told him what time the party was going to be at, he said he'd have to come a little later. He and his dad are having dinner together, it's their weekly tradition."
I mentally kicked myself for forgetting. I remembered that Chris had once told me that he and his dad tried spend some quality time together each week. The thing was that his mother had died during childbirth, leaving Chris, his older brother, and dad. I knew that his dad was a really cool guy but his brother never seemed to understand that it wasn't Chris's fault. I just wanted to take the asshole down and beat that simple concept into his head, but I kept trying to see it from his POV.
I sighed and sat down on the couch, almost doing a double take as I heard the leather under me. After reassuring myself that I was an INVITED GUEST, I relaxed and sat there for a while. There couldn't have been more than about 20 people there, but I assumed there had to be more because Carrie's house was like a compound. Like Southfork without the trampy blond chick. I groaned as the Dallas theme song stuck in my head. Thanks, mom. I would have rather been drowned in the bathtub but you had to "save" me and make me watch TV with you. Jeez...
"....ok, so then after Jennie found Ethan in the sauna with the girl who goes to Oakridge, she was like totally telling him off. And there we were sitting there watching this happen. It was like we were in some parallel universe or something!" And so and so on. I sat in a $150 wicker chair listening to this preppie girl tell us all about the "big shocker with Ethan and Jennie". That was the selling point of the party. The "broken couple" would be there. Live. In the flesh.
The neverending saga proved to become a little much, so I excused myself from the small group at the table and trudged back into the kitchen. The party was in full force now and still no sign of Chris, but I was still hopeful. I dug around in the cooler and pulled out a can of Mountain Dew. It was either drink that or gag down Zima. The kitchen was dark and filled with cigarette smoke and I had to wave it out of my eyes. I could hear Everclear blaring from the stereo in the family room and I remembered Carrie's offer from the other day.
I pushed my way through a group who was just standing around... looking cool. As I made my way to the stairs, I figured there must have been damn near 300 people crammed into the house. And from there, I assumed that if Chris got here, I'd never see him until it was too late and he was leaving. My heart sank and I trudged up the stairs, fighting back the lump in my throat. Yet another missed opportunity.
It took a while, but I finally found Carrie's room. Damn, her "room" was bigger than my whole house it seemed. I sat down on her chaise lounge and leaned back as I searched for the remote control to the 24" TV. After finding a few girl magazines and an empty Kotex box (ugh) I found the remote control and switched the thing on.
It was like some heavenly oasis for couch potatoes. There had to be at least 200 channels available. She even had the Japanese Bloody Anime channel! Holy shit. I kept flipping until I came upon the movie network and was pleased to discover the Starship Troopers was just starting. I smiled and settled back to watch giant bugs rip people in half.
It happened. At just about 6:43 pm, just as Johnny Rico was promoted to lieutenant... the door opened. I didn't think too much of it and didn't turn around, assuming that the two horndogs would find somewhere else to concieve a demon prep spawn.
"Hey! All right. Starship Troopers!"
It was Chris. My heart almost stopped as I turned around to look at him.
"Josh! What's up, man?" He smiled and I felt like I was going to melt into a little puddle of teenaged hormonal goo. I looked at him standing there. He was wearing silky white Adidas pants with a blue trim, a dark blue Nike t-shirt, and... those sunglasses perched above his head. Oh how I wanted to be nice.
"Hey Chris. I'm just hangin' out." I wanted to say more but I just sat there, my eyes fixed on the screen. He didn't leave because, I swear to God, I could fell his aura behind me.
"Well... do you mind if I hang out with you? Carrie said if I didn't like the party, I could come chill out in her room. Is that what she said to you?" He was trying so hard. There was nothing but sweet friendliness in his voice. But I couldn't let it happen.
"Yeah, whatever." I bit my lip and kept telling myself... he'll get a girlfriend or say the 'F' word... don't let it happen.
He stood there for a moment longer and sat down on the floor next to me. He wrapped his arms around his legs and we sat and watched the movie for a while. I tried to stay as still has possible, my baggy jeans hiding the throbbing hardon. After about 15 minutes, Chris finally said something.
"Josh. Are you ok? I mean, I know you're not usually gonna talk my ear off but you seem kinda down. Are you ok?"
I wanted to tell him so bad. Oh God. I fought back tears and looked down at my hands. "I just want to be alone right now." It was the hardest damn thing I'd ever said to anyone. I had the chance to at least talk to him, but I couldn't.
"Oh...ok." He said in a small voice. He got up off the floor and walked over to the door. Then he turned around and said in almost a whisper, "Bye Josh."
The door clicked shut and I couldn't hold it back anymore. Tears rolled down my cheeks as I bit my lower lip. Why did I have to be such an asshole? I rubbed my face and shut off the TV. Somehow saving the world from giant bugs didn't seem that significant.
After a few seconds of thought, I decided that I'd try and salvage things. I hurried out of the room and down the stairs, searching for my blond hunk. Alas, he was nowhere to be found so I searched until I found Carrie.
"Carrie!" I shouted over the deafening music, "Did Chris leave?!"
"Yeah! He said that he didn't feel so good!" She yelled back, "Did you talk to him like you wanted?! If you didn't, I can give you his phone number!"
I quickly pulled out my pocket pen and shouted at her for the numbers. I made them out over the blaring noise and wrote them down on my hand. I thanked Carrie and rushed my way to the door and out into the cool May evening. I nearly broke my neck on the damp driveway getting to my car and once inside, I tried not to speed. But shit happens.
I tore open the front door to my house and rushed through my house. My mom and dad were sitting on the front couch watching an old "All in the Family" episode. My dad identified with Archie Bunker.
After saying goodnight, I clunked up the stairs, ignoring my parents shouting, and rushed into my bedroom and landed on the bed. Pulling the telephone off the hook, I dialed the numbers that were still implanted in my memory.
Sitting there, my hands were shaking like leaves and I kept praying to myself that he would talk to me. The phone rang three or four times before I heard a deep, manly voice answer. "Hello?"
"Hi. Is Chris there?" I tried to sound as casual as possible.
"Uhhh...yeah. I think so. Hold on just a minute." The phone clunked as it was set down and I realized that this was the moment of truth. I hoped to God that he would be there...
"Hello?" It was him.
"H-h-hi. Is this Chris?" I stammered into the phone.
"Yeah. Who's this?" I could hear something in his voice. It sounded like happiness but there was no way I'd bet on it.
"This is Josh. I just wanted to call and apologize for the way I acted at the party. I've just been really stressed with school."
"It's cool, man. Like I said, you're not usually much of a talker. I was just kinda worried because you've been so quiet. Hell, you've been quiet since middle school, but hey, that's cool. I still love ya."
I had to put down the reciever and catch my breath. God, he was such a sweetheart. I composed myself, "Heh. Thanks. One thing surprised me. I didn't know you liked Starship Troopers."
"Are you kidding?! That's my favorite movie! I love the part where the one guy with the cute eyes gets torn in half! He's like GACK....ughhhhh..." I laughed for a solid minute, he sounded so cool.
"Did you hear that the director of the movie filmed the shower scene naked because the actors were uncomfortable?" Oh yeah, Josh. Way to sound hetero.
"You're not serious! I'd be so freaked out. Paul Verhoeven is like 60 years old. He must have had a thing for Casper Van Dien."
There it was again. I tried to ignore it. I changed the subject, "Have you heard about the Godzilla remake? It's out now." I couldn't believe I was actually talking to him.
"Oh yeah! I hear it's not too bad but nothing could compare to the originals. At least Matthew Broderick is in it. Why do you ask? Are you going to see it?" I could hear that odd eagerness in his voice again.
"Well, yeah. I'd thought about it. Do you wanna... go with me if I do?" I bit my lip and waited anxiously for his reply.
"That'd be awesome! My dad promised to take me but he's so busy with work and teaching at UCLA. He hasn't had much time to spend with me." There was such a sadness in his voice when he talked about his dad, it made me feel so bad. I wanted to just hold him.
"Well, it's playing tommorow. I think there is a show 6:25. Does that sound cool to you?" As I talked, I felt more and more comfortable.
"That sounds so cool. We would get back around 8:30, right? I don't wanna be up too late on a school night. But it's almost the end of the year so I can goof off a little. What time?"
"What time for what?" What the hell was he getting at?
"What time do you want to pick me up, silly? You have your drivers license to kill so unless you want my older brother or your parents to drive, it's on your head, homeboy." He laughed.
"Oh! Ok.. heh, sorry about that. I can come get you at 6pm and we can go to the theatre. How does that sound?" I was making a friggin' DATE with my dream guy!
"That sounds perfect! See you then?"
"See you then. Bye, Chris."
"Bye Josh. Sweet dreams." And then he was gone. All I had left was the empty sound of the dial tone so I hung up the phone. As I sat on the edge of my bed, it sunk in what had happened. The one guy who I had lusted after ever since I knew I had a penis...was going to go to the movies with me. It wasn't wild animal sex, but it was still pretty cool.
To be continued...