Invited

Chapter 14

( Love Outbreak )

Walking out of Uncle Tony's barbershop on a wintry February day, Billy and I are rolling our eyes, grinning at each other, and shaking our heads because we know how unusual it is for guys our age to be rocking this kind of stupid-short haircut. Outside, we rub the bristly hairs at the crown of each other's heads as Billy says, smoky vapors coming from his mouth in the cold, "Your uncle knows how to do our short magical haircuts."

I'm like, "Yep; he's an old-time type barber doing old-time short boys' haircut."

He laughs, "Yeah, well, whatever they are, they work." Rubbing my head again, he goes, "Can you feel the magical power, Gary?" Shrugging, I mumble, "Oh, for sure!"

Magical powers, my ass! Ha, that's so nuts, but as long as Billy's convinced our twin haircuts are largely responsible for fantastic messing around together, I've no intention of contradicting him. Why the hell would I?

It's so freakin' ironic that many months ago, frustrated about many things and hoping to get John Baxter's attention, I lost my mind and let Uncle Tony give me my first ever crewcut. I hated it! Then happenstance took over, and now, because of that haircut, here I am with my idol who is anxious to mess around with me. We're on our way to his garage to do that right now. And I've never missed my wickedly curly hair for one second!

In the SUV, to pump up Billy's crazy idea, I excitedly say, "And, in addition to the magic, you look great with this haircut." Not really...

He gives me his signature smile, saying, "Don't think I've forgotten your genius of getting this haircut first. I merely recognized the magic possibilities, so don't give me all the credit."

Ha-ha, he's funny. I squeeze his shoulder, murmuring, "I love you so much it sometimes hurts my heart."

Stepping on the gas, he glances at me, saying with a smirk, "I know, and it's alright for you to blurt out shit like that, I guess. I'm getting used to hearing you say that kind of thing by now."

Billy likes being idolized.

He goes, "Hey, and I like you a lot too. I've told you that before. We're two extra fabulous messing around buddies, you and me, and I give you some of the credit for that because of your iron ass, which is a part of the miracle we're experiencing."

Gee, he's full of compliments again today. I say, "Thanks, but I give all the credit to you for schooling me on the gay; um, I meant to say, the guy messing around stuff. I never imagined it could be so fantastic."

He goes, "Well, hell, I didn't expect it to be this good either, but stay clear of the word gay, okay? And, sure, I had all the experience, so I knew messing around was pretty cool shit, but I had no idea it could be as good as it is with you."

Nodding, I mutter, "Thanks."

Stopping at a red light, making a face, he adds, "Well, um, don't get a big head about it. As you know, I need to do most of the work, being the top guy guiding you through everything. You're a good follower, though, and you do your part really well, the bottom part, or the girl/guy part, as you call it. So, we're equally awesome at doing our extra special messing around."

As he drives through the intersection, I'm staring at his cute profile, murmuring solemnly, "I wouldn't want to be anybody else's girl/guy, Billy. You'll never find a better, more devoted girl/guy than me."

He nods, "You might be right, which is why I told you I'm putting off dating real girls until after college."

Grinning, then snickering at him and his consistent rationalizing away his gayness. I mutter, "Thanks, that makes me wicked happy."

He glances at me, smiling, "Yeah, I know."

Parking at the curb in front of his house, he says, "Okay, we're here. I'll check what mom is up to, mentioning to her, casual like, that we'll be looking for my basketball in the garage, then we'll slip inside, and, you know, I'll do some extra good messing around for you." Smiling at me, he adds, "Does that make you happy?"

I mutter, "You know it." Then, we're both squeezing our junk as we get out of the van.

As we walk down the driveway, Billy's satisfying his touchy/feely penchant by keeping his hand on my shoulder the whole way. When we go up the two steps to the back porch, he's like, "It's not too cold in the sun, so sit on our swing. I'll only be a minute."

Oh man, he said our swing. I mumble, "The swing is called a love seat."

He chuckles, mumbling, "You never give up, do you?"

As he goes inside, I sit on the swing; it is cold, but I'm as happy as it's possible to be thinking about Billy's rosy-colored bow-shaped lips and what they feel like on mine. Almost immediately, he comes back out, saying, "Mom is napping, perfect!"

Getting up, I follow him to the garage, where he pulls the door up enough that we can bend over and go inside. Closing the door, it's fairly dark in here, so Billy takes hold of my hand and leads me past many objects stored here. There is only one window, and it's on the neighbor's side of the garage. The window provides just enough light that we're able to make our way to that side. Then, moving close to the garage door, we're out of view to his neighbors.

I've known Billy casually since middle school, and he's always been this smiling, hot-shit type of guy who almost everyone liked. The possibility he might be gay never entered my mind back then. Now, though, I believe I'm the only person in the world, including Billy, who knows his true self. Well, I guess he knows, too; he just can't or won't admit it to himself yet.

Letting go of my hand, Billy gently pushes my back against the wall and puts a hand on either side of my head. He smiles at me, then kisses me on the mouth pressing his whole body against mine. My arms go around him, hugging him as his tongue slides on my tongue. He makes a low moaning sound; our teeth scrape together, then he withdraws his tongue to suck on my upper lip. Then, still holding my head between his hands, he licks all around my mouth, under my chin, across my lips, and up the front of my nose, followed by another sloppy kiss.

His hips hump slightly as his lips and tongue become part of my mouth, and, wow, I feel his rock-hard boner poking mine. Dropping his hands from my head, his arms go around me, his hands on my buttocks, pulling my hard privates tightly against his.

He rubs his nose against mine, back and forth, murmuring, "Mmmm, ooh, jeez, Gary, you're so, um, ah, such a good guy to mess around with. You taste, feel, and smell so, um, you know, good."

Then, another sloppy kiss with lots of tongue action as I squirt precum in my jockey shorts, my heart pounding with love and desire for him.

Gasping, he rests his forehead on my shoulder, takes deep breaths, then says, "Shit, our haircuts got me a little crazy." Lifting his head, he looks at me, grinning, "It's just that, um, I mean, fuck, you're so likable, ya know?"

Letting go of me, he's calming down as he goes, "Ha-ha, you probably think I overdid it a little, but it was only so I could show you how much I like you."

Nodding, thrilled beyond words, I murmur, "Maybe you love me."

He laughs, "Well, let's not get nuts, but you are the cutest motherfucker ever. It's not fair, ya know? I mean, how the hell am I going to find a girlfriend as cute as you?"

I mumble, "That's so nice of you to say, but you don't need to worry about that for four years, right?"

He steps back, "Well, yeah, I guess. Okay, fuck, ha-ha, that was a wild couple of minutes, huh? I don't know what got into me. These fucking haircuts, I guess..."

He's embarrassed about being so affectionate. Awkwardly taken a step back, he bumps into a box of books. He almost falls backward, but I reach out, and he grabs hold of my arm, muttering, "What the 'effing hell was that...?" He looks back at what he bumped into, mumbling, "A box of 'effing books.".

To get his mind off that, I reinforce his excuse for showing his real feeling for me, "You were being very considerate so that I, your girl/guy, would feel appreciated. It's just one more reason you're the best top guy ever."

He nods, "See, you get it, Gary. You understand nuance. Um, is that the right word, nuance?"

"I'm pretty sure it'll do okay, Billy."

He mutters, "Well, now you know I appreciate your girl/guy role. The thing is, though, heh-heh, my dick is presently a cement block in my pants. Jesus, dude, I did some good messing around, didn't I? Um, do you have a rubber with you?"

Pulling a couple of condom packets out of my pocket, I hold them up. He smiles, "You're wicked dependable too."

He takes both condoms, putting one in his back pocket and the other between his teeth. Pulling his khaki pants and jockey underwear down to his knees, his boner bobbing in its hardness, Billy nods that I need to pull my jeans down.

Quickly doing that, my boner is bobbing up and down like Billy's. It's cold in here, so I wrap my fist around my hard dick to warm it up. Umm, that feels good. Stroking it, I get precum on my hand as Billy, his hand around his boner, slowly shakes his head, muttering, "I'm amazed every time I see how our dicks are like twins, bro."

Another crazy thing that fascinates him. Then he adds, "I'm guessing twin penises add to the magic of our twin haircuts. That's so 'effing weird, though, ya know?"

I mumble, "Uh-huh, um, do you want me to suck on your twin boner a little bit?"

Snickering, he goes, "Well, I know how much you want to do that, so okay, go ahead, but don't overdo it."

Looking at the cold cement floor, I use my foot to pull a random piece of cardboard over, then drop to my knees on top of it. His fleece-lined dungaree jacket only reaches his hips, so it's not in the way.

Billy takes his hand off his boner, that's looking heavy, hanging to the left, away from his body. It's a cloudy winter day, and not much light is coming through the garage's dirty window, so, on my knees below the window, everything in the garage appears almost like a black and white movie.

Gently taking his hard penis in my fingers, I lean forward and do a long lick across the head, feeling the lips of his piss slit quivering under my pink tongue, making both of us shiver. Sucking on the head with my lips, my hard dick getting harder. When I lick up and down his penis's hard chubby five-inch shaft, my boner moves straight out between my legs. I close my eyes and moan in deep sexual arousal.

Billy's rubbing my head, grunting, "Umm, umm, yeah..." I only bob up and down on it three times before Billy pushed my head away, grunting, "No, I'll cum, stop. Turn around, um, on your hand and knees."

After doing that, I look back and watch Billy wiping the outside lubricant from the condom on his boner, then on my asshole. It's cold, so I shiver again, but it's a different type of shiver than before. He puts the condom on the box of books as I look forward at the garage door, shaking with the anticipation of feeling him inside me.

Recently, I've come to accept that some form of odd mutation must have taken place in the formation of my rectum. Billy insists my ass is a miracle, and he's had experiences with a few other asses, so there's probably some truth to it. Plus, the pleasure surging from my rectum's nerve endings when Billy's fucking me is unimaginably magnificent; it's beyond description. So, it must be I have a special rectum.

I mean, I've seen the joy on the faces of gay porn models getting fucked, but I've never heard or read anyone mentioning anything that compares to the degree of awesomeness I experience when taking Billy's cock up my ass; it's like an out-of-this-world pleasure.

I've wondered if maybe it's Billy's boner that causes all the pleasure or if some other guy's boner would create the same immense otherworldly pleasure. But, no, it could never feel as good with someone else's boner up my ass, no way!

Like mine, Billy's boner is sticking straight out, so, gripping my waist with both hands, he presses the slippery head against my quivering anus, makes a gasping sound, then humps it inside me.

I do a muffled grunt, "Ahh, ooh," and, without hesitation, he steadily pushes his engorged five inches of hard cock up my ass, knowing my iron rectum can take it.

I'm holding my breath because it does hurt some, but it feels right too. It's pain and pleasure in equal amounts simultaneously, and the pain part begins fading quickly. Billy helps by not moving his cock once it's all the way in, his crotch pressed tightly against my buttocks. Sensing the tenseness of my body as I hold my breath, he waits a bit before asking, "Are you okay, Gary?"

Slowly letting out my held breath, I nod my head, then murmur, "Yes, it feels good. I feel totally filled up in the most perfect way."

His hands are cold as he's rubbing them up and down my sides, muttering, "Unbelievable," then, "That's my boy; that's my favorite girl/guy." The nerve ending in my ass begins percolating pleasure vibrations making me shudder, then say, "I'm your only girl/guy."

He snickers and pats my ass, "You got that right, buddy." Then he slowly pulls his boner back, sending a million streaks of pleasure inside me. I go, "Oooh, Billy, umm, yeah..."

This feels very familiar but spectacularly new at the same time. Then, the first four or five trips back and forth inside me don't feel exceptionally smooth, but they feel good. Then, unbelievably, everything quickly smooths out and gets much better, and I need to bite my lower lip to keep from making embarrassingly girly squeals of immense pleasure. The kind of pleasure that's hard to imagine. Seriously, how could anything feel this good?

It must feel amazingly good for Billy as well because he begins making whimpering sounds as the longish steady thrusting picks up speed until, after two minutes, it becomes fast three-inch thrusts that create the slapping sounds, "Slap, slap, slap," of his crotch smacking off my buttocks, both of us moaning at every slap.

Not for long, though. Our climaxes come swarming upon us, quickly overtaking the sheer pleasure of anal fucking, which forces our focus to the irresistible anticipation of sexual orgasm, our spectacular climaxes that keep building and building.

We're going, "Ah, ah, ah," and then a screeching sound from me as my body jerks forward, every muscle in my body contracting, sending cum streaking from my hard boner to splash off the door, then again. Billy groans, humping hard against my ass, remaining stationary while he unloads his balls of semen, shooting every slimy creamy hot drop inside me.

I'm making gasping sounds, bursts of heavy breathing with zipping pleasure streaking from my head to my toes, shivering with sensational vibrations of ecstasy.

Stepping back, Billy pulls his dick from my ass, mumbling, "It's cold in here." Then he takes a deep breath, chuckles, and mutters, "Cold or not, that was some hot messing around. Holy shit, I almost blew my dick off, ha-ha. Awesome!"

Slowly standing, I murmur, "It felt fantastic. Nobody could do it as well as you. I'm positive about that." Cum drools from my rectum and slowly runs down the back of my leg.

He goes, "Yeah, you're probably right. Um, put your hands on the garage door. I'll give you some bonus messing around."

I do that, and he makes a hissing sound as he pushes his dick back up my ass, groaning, "Ahh, oh fuck, that felt good. Nice and warm inside you, bro."

He leans over me, his arms coming around my belly as he presses against my buttocks tightly, the side of his face near mine. I'm panting as we stay like this for a bit, then he says, "Turn your head, Gary."

I do that, and the sides of our lips meet for a kiss."

He murmurs, "Oh, fuck, you might be right. Maybe I do love you," and before I can say anything to that, he starts thrusting his cock, and immediately there's nothing else in the Universe that matters except him and me and our messing around.

This time we float in an ocean of sexual pleasure, and for quite some time, too; my eyes close as I murmur, "Oh, oh, oh," with each delicious thrust of Billy's perfect boner. Rhymical thrusting, not fast and not slow, my penis so hard it doesn't move as it throbs with intense pleasure.

I'm deeply into a dreamy mantra of, "Oh, oh, oh," for a beautifully long time until, finally, Billy makes a wheezy-breathy sound and begins faster and faster thrusting, "Slap, slap, slap."

It's as if I've awaken from a dream of joy in never-never land when my climax with hurricane force comes storming up on me. I assume Billy's climax overwhelmed him, too, as he's stopped thrusting and humped once against my buttocks, grunting as he unloads his second climax. I make a desperate screechy sound and blow my load that, again, splatters off the garage door while black spots drift in and out of my vision. An incredible explosion of sexual pleasure leaves me shaking with pleasure as Billy's body gets limp; his dick, too, I imagine.

My body doesn't move as I hold my breath experiencing almost burning sensations swarming around my groin, almost painfully, but it feels incredibly good too. With one last shudder, everything clears up in my world, and I exhale, saying, "Omigod, Billy, that was your best one yet."

He pulls his dick out, muttering, "Christ, I thought I'd gone blind when I blew that second load up your ass. You and I are taking messing around to a new higher level, bro."

Then he snickers as he reaches down to his khaki pants and pulls two paper towels from a pocket, saying, "Plus, I planned ahead getting paper towels when I was inside the house."

He hands me a paper towel, then wipes his dick with the other, muttering, "I need some soap and water on my dick, but this will have to do for now."

Billy's big on cleaning his penis. I'm watching him wipe his dick as his cum drools down my backside. He looks up, "Wipe your ass!"

Nodding, I lose my trance and wipe at the cum drooling out of my ass and the back of my legs. The thing is, after that fantastic love-making, I thought we'd be hugging and kissing. Instead, Billy's muttering, "I need to stop letting you get in my head so much. No offense, but this is getting way too gay, and it's your fault. I don't know how many times I need to remind you that we're doing guy messing around. Not gay shit!"

He's pissed at himself again; this time for saying he might be in love with me, and he's taking it out by yelling at me. At this point, it's getting silly, though. I say, probably a little too forcefully, "It doesn't matter what you call it, but two friends fucking is still a homosexual act."

He goes, "Homosexual? That's even a worse word than saying it's gay! What's wrong with you anyway?"

Calming down, holding the paper towel at my ass, I quietly walk back my earlier moment of truth, "Um, well, I mean, ya know. Um, so what if our messing around is considered gay by most people? That doesn't necessarily make you gay. You could be bisexual or straight, or, as you say, just goofing off, messing around."

He says, "Okay, you've come back to your senses. All I meant was, um, ah, we're two guys messing around; we're not actually," then he uses quote fingers, "Gay lovers."

I smirk at him, and he adds, "It's you who has got me saying that love shit, and that's not right."

Putting the folded paper towel in my underpants, I pull up my jeans, mumbling, "Okay, whatever you say, but I still love you."

He goes, "Yes, that's been established but stop making me say anything about love."

It's hard not to laugh at Billy's convoluted rationalized logic, but I manage not to, although I am grinning at him. He sees my grin and snorts out a laugh, "Stop that grinning. I'm pretty sure I'm right about this. Aren't I?"

Still grinning, I shrug, mumbling, "I'm pretty sure you're right as rain."

He frowns at me, "And what the hell does that mean?"

I go, "Whaddaya mean? Haven't you ever heard that idiom before?"

He goes, "Idiom? More like idiotic."

I mumble, "Idiotic is pretty much apropos for this discussion we're having."

He pulls up his pants and pats my shoulder, "I suppose you may be closer to the fact of the matter than I am, Gary. It's just that our haircuts are so recent I'm going off the rails a little. I'm sorry I yelled at you."

I can't stop grinning as I mutter, "Let's hug it out." Smiling his big smile, resigned, he mutters, "Sure, what the hell, at this point?"

We hug with Billy kissing my cheek, murmuring, "I don't want to do anything to screw up what we've got together, so ignore me when I go off the rails, okay?" I go, "Sure, Billy."

Letting go of each other, he takes my hand, picks up the unused condom, and we make our way to the middle of the garage, then to the door. Billy mumbles, "Here we go," as he pulls up the door, and we walk out.

Closing the door, he puts the condom under some trash in the trash barrel, then says, "You sit on the swing while I go to the bathroom to clean my dick. When I get back, you can pretend you need to use the bathroom and clean the cum off your cute ass." I nod, and he goes inside.

Billy comes back from the bathroom and pats my shoulder, "You can use the bathroom now, Gary."

I go, "No, that's okay. I'll wait until I get home."

He says, "Mom is still napping in her bedroom, if that's what you're worried about. C'mon, I'll help you," and he pulls on my arm. I get up, and we go inside, then down the hall to the bathroom.

Closing the bathroom door, we take our coats off and throw them on the toilet seat as he mumbles, "After what we've been doing, it's silly of you to be all shy and whatnot. Drop your pants."

I hesitate for a second, then drop my jeans and underwear. Nodding, he says, "Lean over with your hands on the coats."

I do that, and he unrolls toilet paper. Mumbling, "Ew," as he peels the cum-soaked paper towel off my ass. Wrapping it in a ball with the toilet paper, he drops it in the wastebasket, then wets a washcloth and rubs it on both my butt cheeks, saying, "In case you don't know, you don't have a single hair on your pinkish ass."

Huh? I mumble, "Oh, um, should I?"

He mutters, "Nah, it's better this way." He pats my left butt cheek, "Cute ass." and then wipes the washcloth up my ass crack, adding, "Your asshole is still opened up pretty much, but not as much as when my dick was in there."

Wiping up my ass crack again, he mutters, "Ya know, I like your ass." He squeezes my left butt cheek," murmuring, "Ain't that odd? Who the hell likes a guy's ass, ya know?"

I mumble, "I don't know."

He uses his forefinger to push some of the washcloths inside my rectum, muttering, "I don't want you feeling itchy up there." Twirling his finger-covered washcloth inside me, he pulls it out, asking, "How does it feel now?"

"Good, really good, thanks, Billy." He smacks my ass, "I told you I'd take care of you, didn't I?"

I go, "Yeah, and you do."

He sighs, then mutters, "Pull up your pants, and we'll drive to DQ to celebrate."

When I do that, we both put our coats on as I ask, "Celebrate what?"

He goes, "Our latest miraculous haircuts, of course." And Billy runs a comb up the front of his bangs, then says, "Stand still," and he cups my chin with his left hand, then combs up the hairs in front of my head. "There ya go. You look adorable. C'mon, freezing winter weather or not, I want a vanilla ice cream cone."

Well, he won't get one at DQ. They have soft-serve imitation ice cream only.

With his hand on my shoulder, we walk out the back door and down the driveway to the SUV as Billy asks, "How'd you think I did with our messing around today?"

I go, "Omigod, are you kidding? You were fantastic!" His arm comes across my shoulders, and he squeezes, mumbling, "I really like you. We're going to have a great time going to college together and sharing our apartment. Hey, can you cook?"

Getting in the van, I go, "I can make sandwiches and cook bacon and eggs. Stuff like that. How about you?"

He starts the van, "Nah, I can't cook. That'll be your job since you're the girl/guy, okay?"

Chuckling, I say, "Chauvinist pig!" We both laugh at that, and he pulls away from the curb, saying, "No, seriously though, you should do the cooking."

"Yeah, sure, we'll eat a lot of hamburgers. I can cook hamburgers." He smiles at me, "There ya go, that's settled. I'm treating at the DQ." I mumble, "Thanks."

As Billy drives onto the Dairy Queen parking lot, I mutter, "Shit," and he's like, "Why'd you say that?" I go, "There's Sharon Nichols. She likes to tease me about asking her out on a date."

He parks, "To hell with that! I'm not dating girls until after college, so neither are you."

I shrug, "I know. I don't want to do that anyway."

Sharon's with Maggie Barns and Armondo Diago. Armondo's another prick from high school who used to give me a hard time because I got tired of him always wanting to copy my homework for English class.

Billy's got his big smile working as he walks up to the girls and Armondo, saying, "Don't you people have anything better to do than hang out at the DQ in this winter weather?"

Armondo goes, "Underwood, you little peckerwood, how you doing, bro?" They do a hand-slap thing and then a quick guy hug.

Sharon says, "Hello, Gary; what have you been up to lately?"

I mumble, "Hi, um, nothing special. Just hanging out with him," nodding at Billy.

Maggie butts in, saying, "Yeah, and what the fuck is with you two? You and Billy have the same faggy haircuts."

Billy hears that and turns to her, "Omigod, Maggie, you're so 'effing observant! I never knew that about you."

She snottily says, "And I've also observed that you haven't grown up any since graduating." That's when I sort of saunter over to the DQ's counter as Billy calls after me, "A vanilla cone for me, Gary."

I wave at him and get in line behind a woman and her two bundled-up kids, who are about six years old. It's weird how DQ stays in business all winter. When the lady and her kids get served, I order two vanilla cones, then carry them back to Billy, who is laughing with the girls as Armondo lights a cigarette. Billy takes the cone I'm holding out to him, muttering, "Thanks, bro."

Armondo, who isn't wearing a coat, just a turtleneck sweater, exhales smoke and says, "Where's my cone, Wallingford?"

I say, "It's waiting for you over there," and nod at the DQ.

He goes, "You're totally queer, aren't you?" Billy says, "No, he's not, but you're totally an asshole, Armondo."

He goes, "Hey, Billy! We're buds, dude."

Billy says, "No, not really. Gary's my bud. At best, you're someone to shoot the shit with. That's about it, dude."

Well, okay, Billy's sticking up for me.

Stepping from one foot to the other in the cold, Maggie says, "When will you boys ever act your age? You're always trying to prove who has the biggest dick."

Armando goes, "It sure as shit isn't Underwood. You can hardly see his little weenie."

Nope, I haven't missed much by not hanging out with everyone in the neighborhood all these years! This isn't the first time I've had that thought. I stay out of the stupid conversation as Sharon comes over and puts her arm around mine, cutely asking, "Did I miss your phone call, Gary?"

I shrug, "Um, huh?" She smiles and squeezes my arm, so I say, "Um, if I was kinda drunk or high on pot right now, I'd probably be able to think of something to say to that, but I'm freezing and yet eating a soft serve vanilla cone, so..."

She snickers, "You're cute, and I like your new haircut." I go, "It's not new. I've had it since early last summer."

We look at Billy and Armondo as they're bitching back and forth. All of Billy's five-foot, seven-or-eight-inch slim frame, plus his120 plus pounds or so, are standing up to the much bigger Armondo.

A Volkswagen pulls in, and a young black guy in the shotgun seat rolls his window down and yells, "Yo, Armondo, get your ass over here."

Armondo says, "Fuck you, Underwood," and jogs over to the car.

Billy smiles and says, "That was fun," then, "Are either of you girls dating that jerkoff?"

Maggie goes, "Get serious, no one's dating him. He was here when Sharon and I drove up five minutes ago. He told us he's waiting to score some weed or something, and," glancing at the Volkswagen, she adds, "I guess that's what he's doing now."

Billy says, "Well, nice seeing you girls, but Gary and I need to take off. We'll see you around." Sharon lets go of my arm when Maggie tells her, "C'mon, Sharon, let's buy those hot chocolates we came here to get."

I give a little hand wave at Sharon, then walk with Billy to the car as he goes, "Hey, I owe you for the cones." I go, "No, that's alright," but he stuffs a five-dollar bill in my pocket, muttering, "It's my treat."

We finish the soft serve cones driving back to his house in the heated van. Getting out of the car, Billy says, "Good, it's only four o'clock; we can hang out in my room."

Going in the backdoor, we see his mom in the kitchen. Billy goes, "Hi, Mom!" She says, "Good, you're home." Then looking up, she smiles, "Oh, hi there, Gary." I nod, "Hi, Mrs. Underwood."

Turning to Billy, she adds, "I need the van to go food shopping."

He's like, "No problem, but when is Dad going to buy another car for you? I'll need the van at school all the time starting in September. I'm through using public transportation to college after this year."

"Yes, I know. Your Dad's thinking about getting you a car, not me. The van will be mine again. Until then, we'll share it." Billy smiles, "Cool, a car for me! Yeah, the SUV is not a car a college guy can be proud of, you know?"

She rolls her eyes, "Be grateful for whatever car you end up with." He goes, "I am, I am, jeez!"

Taking my arm, he says, "C'mon, Gary, I'll show you that, um, that thing in my bedroom I was telling you about."

In his bedroom, he says, "Take your coat off and stay awhile." Then he closes the door and smiles at me, "Do you want to mess around on my bed?"

Hesitating, I glance at the door, so he says, "She's going grocery shopping. Get on the bed with me."

We take our coats off as I mumble, "Let's wait until your mom leaves."

He takes his shirt off, then comes up to me, "Put your arms up." Making a face, I put my arms up, and he pulls my polo shirt off over my head, then finger combs my bangs up, muttering, "We've gotta keep our haircuts looking perfect." I mutter, "People are freaking out about us having the same haircut? Haven't you noticed that?"

He goes, "Fuck 'em. C'mon, get on the bed with me."

Smiling, he takes my hand and pulls me to the bed, then he flops on his back in the middle of his small twin-size bed and holds his arms out. Grinning, I can't ignore that invitation, so I climb up beside him and lay my bare chest on his, stretching my legs out against his. He goes, "I like making you feel good, and, um, what the fuck? I guess it makes me feel good at the same time."

I scooch down the bed a little, then lie the side of my head on his shoulder, looking at his cute profile. He puts his arms around me and hugs me, murmuring, "I'm starting to worry about myself. Heh-heh, I like the touch of your body on mine. I like it way too much. I think I'm addicted to you, which is strange since I never got addicted to grass. You'd think I'd be more likely to get addicted to that than get addicted to you."

He tends to ramble off like that at times. I murmur, "Maybe addicted isn't the best word for what you mean."

Hugging me tightly again, he kisses my forehead and tells me one of his non-sequiturs, this time about cars. He goes, "I already knew Dad was going to get me a car to replace the SUV that Mom loves to use. So, you know, I was surfing online reading so-called experts' opinions about what the best cars for college students are. The number one consensus is the Mazda CX-30. Others are a Toyota Camry, Kia Soul, and Kia Forte."

I mutter, "Okay, those cars will be on my list of potential used cars when I'm ready to buy one."

He gives me a squeeze, "Yeah, well, I had you, my favorite buddy of all time, in mind too, when I was looking this shit up." Then he goes on, "Here's the odd thing. Experts have different recommendations for cars for high school students. The top four are Honda Accord, Nissan Sentra, Ford Fusion, and Kia Optima."

I'm like, "How the hell can you remember all this?"

He ignores my question, saying, "So, I was like, how about the best car for new drivers? And, yep, there are different best selections for new drivers too. According to these experts, the best bet for a new driver is a Volkswagen Golf, next is Toyota Camry or Mazda 3."

Snuggling tighter against him, I mumble, "I wonder what makes these guys experts?"

He says, "I have no fucking..." He stops then when there's a loud knock on the bedroom door. I jerk away from him, quickly moving off the bed as his mom yells, "I'm leaving now, William. Lock the back door if you go out!." He yells, "Watch out for crazy drivers, Mom!"

Billy never even flinched when she knocked on the door.

"Don't be so skittish, Gary. C'mon, get back on the bed with me the way you were before."

I do that, and he mutters, "This weekend at your house, we'll finally be sleeping together, so maybe I'll get all the bodily contact with you I want. Hee-hee, you probably still won't get enough of me to satisfy you, though, will you?"

I mumble, "I never get enough of you."

He goes, "Christ, you know what? I think you've got me believing in the girl/guy shit you're always mentioning. You've got me feeling as if I actually do need to take care of my girl/guy. Well, you are the best ever messing around girl/guy I've ever been with."

Putting my arms around the back of his neck and hugging his head against mine, I murmur, "I'm the only girl/guy you've ever messed around with, and I'll never in my life ever love anyone as much as I love you. The only time I'm ever this happy is when you're taking care of me like this. Um, and our other kinds of messing around too, of course."

He goes, "Good, and I could say the same about you, sort of, um, changing some of the words around. Well, changing most of the words."

We stay like this without talking for five minutes, which is a long time for Billy to be silent. As for me, I can't imagine being more happily contented than lying here with him. Finally, Billy says, "Um, we're all set for this weekend, right, Gary?"

I ask, "Have you already mentioned to your parents about staying at my house?"

He's like, "Well, of course, I have. What's the big deal? Your parents will be away, so I'll keep you company. Mom and Dad just shrugged, muttering something about not making a mess of your house, and I need to be respectful of your parent's rules and shit like that. Ya know, I was like, yeah, yeah, obviously. Heh-heh."

I mumble, "Well, hell, I guess it's not the big deal I thought it was."

He's lazily rubbing his fingers up and down my back, giving me pleasant shivers as he says, "Yeah, just mention to your parents I'm staying with you. Tell them we're going to have a marathon Fortnight game or some bullshit like that. You don't need to go into a bunch of details."

Huh, the thing is, I've never had an overnighter the way most kids do at a younger age, so I don't know what my parents might say. Billy's right, though; it shouldn't be a big deal. I was thinking it's a major issue because I know we're going to be messing around in bed a lot, but Mom and Dad don't know that.

"Okay, Billy, that's what I'll do. I'll make it a casual thing, mentioning you might spend a night or two with me to finish our computer game."

He mutters, "Good, whatever, but Goddamn, right now I've got a hard aching boner. Pull your pants down, and then help me get mine off."

Sitting up, I kick my sneakers off, then quickly pull off my jeans, then help Billy pull his down. He mumbles, "Pull them off entirely."

Hopping off the end of the bed, I yank his sneakers off, then his khakis and underpants. Then, without being told, I lean over with a hand on either side of his hips and suck on his hard-as-stone-boner. He grunts and runs his fingers back and forth through my short hair, groaning, "Oh, oh, umm. Fuck, yeah."

Almost immediately, I suck out precum, and he squirms on the bed, pushing at my head, "That's enough, Gary. Umm. Jesus, that feels good, though."

Climbing up on the bed, I get a knee on either side of Billy's hips, then lean forward with my hands on either side of his chest. I'm grinning at him with a dab of precum on my bottom lip.

Smiling his huge smile, he wipes the precum off my lip with his thumb, then says, "This will be fun. Reach back and guide my boner to your asshole, then sit on it."

Taking my hands off the bed, I sit up on my knees, reach back and take his hard boner in my fingers; my other hand rests on his hip. Rubbing my thumb over the head of his hard cock, I feel slippery precum. I nod at his smiling face, then move the slippery head to my asshole.

Billy nods encouragingly and murmurs, "Go ahead, but just sit on it a little to start."

There's still some lubricant in my rectum, plus my anus hasn't totally closed up from our two earlier messing around, so when I lower my ass, the head tightly opens me up more, and it hurts a little, but not much. I make a face and lower my hips, "Oh! Um, oh..." and the whole head squeezes inside me.

Billy bites his bottom lip, grunting, "Nice, um, feels good."

As always, it feels huge inside me but awesome too. The pain fades in seconds; then I sit down more, maybe two inches, and watch Billy's face scrunch up as he moans, "Ah, ah, um. Motherfucker, that feels good, Gary."

Sharing our bodies and bodily pleasure like this makes my heart bloom with love for him. How could I go on living without him?

Billy nods his head encouragingly again, "You're doing great. Um, yeah, now go ahead and sit all the way down, but don't crush my 'effing nuts."

Reaching back again, I move his scrotum out from under me, pushing on his big nuts to get his scrotum over to the side. He giggles, "That hurt, but you're doing good."

Sensations buzz inside me as my prostate pulses out pleasure, and the stretching pain around my asshole begins feeling good like a great scratch of an annoying itch. Keeping my hand under my right butt cheek, I sit down on it, and Billy gasps, then chuckles, murmuring, "Holy fuck, yeah."

He motions with his fingers for me to lie forward. Slowly doing that, his boner pulls out little by little until, lying on Billy's chest, just the head is inside me, pressing against my prostate.

I grunt, "I'm going to cum." Billy puts his arms around me, "Not yet, you're not," and he humps his hips driving his cock back inside me two or three inches. I go, "Ahh! Oh!"

It's not smooth thrusting, but it's right on my prostate, and I'm in a state of sexual ecstasy as he hugs me while humping his hips, driving his hard cock a few inches back and forth inside my ass. He's grunting with every hump, sizzling pleasure rolling out from my rectum in waves. Two, three, four minutes of sexual bliss, sweat forming between us, Billy gasping and giggling, murmuring, "Yeah, yeah, yeah," until my hips lurch forward, and I have an earthshaking climax that slides slimily on both our bellies.

Billy grunts, "There ya go, Gary," and rolls me over onto my back, almost off the bed. His cock comes out, but I pull my legs back, and Billy pushes his still-hard dick back in, then pounds my ass for a minute, "Slap, slap, slap," before he has a loud breathy exhale, grunting, "Ooh!" and climaxes, then collapsing on me, his cum creamy and sloppy-feeling filled me up again.

He's breathing hard, the side of his sweaty face against mine as I hug his body, murmuring, "I love you so much."

I feel his heart pounding against my chest, his chest rising and falling as he takes deep breaths. Shortly, his body calms down as his limp dick slips out of my ass. He shakes his head once, laughs, then mutters, "How much did my favorite girl/guy enjoy that messing around? Holy shit, that was fantastic!"

Perspiration from the side of his head is running down the side of mine. I like that, so I move my head against his head, mumbling, "Spectacular. It was spectacular. Are you saying you messed around like this with someone else?"

He lifts his head to look into my eyes, "Are you serious? No, I've never done it like this before. Who the hell would I have ever done this kind of superior messing around with before you? Not those high school losers or that prick, Chicky! You and me, we're special together, don't you know that by now?"

He rolls off me, and I immediately scooch over right next to him. My left arm is now over the edge of the bed. I say, "Yeah, I know we're special, and please stop calling me your favorite girl/guy. I'm your only girl/guy. I'm the girl/guy you're in love with."

He goes onto his side, leaning on his elbow, but without his usual smile. Looking serious, he murmured, "You're right, but you don't need to make me say it all the 'effing time, do you?"

I mumble, "No, I don't, but it won't kill you to say it once in a while."

He smiles, "I love you, Gary. Alright?"

Trying not to grin, I grin anyway, muttering, "Alright. That wasn't so hard, was it?"

He mutters, "Yes, it was!" and he grabs me, pulling me on top of his slightly smaller body, adding, "And, it's possible for you to be my favorite girl/guy... and my only one too."

I go, "No. If I'm your only one, then there isn't another to compare me to, although if there were, I'd definitely be your favorite, except there isn't another."

Finger combing my hair again, he mutters, "Well, if I had another, you'd probably still be the cutest."

Snorting out a laugh, I go, "But you've never had another girl/guy, so why even mention that."

He goes, "I'm just saying... if I did."

I go, "If you did, then that girl/guy better have a bodyguard because I'll scratch her/his eyes out." Billy laughs, "You would too, wouldn't you?"

Getting an arm around the back of his neck, I pull his head down. He offers no resistance as we kiss. The kiss is what I'll call a lover's kiss because it's sweet and gentle and last half a minute.

Billy smiles, "So, are you happy now?" I nod, "Yes, I am."

He sits up, mumbling, "I suppose a girl/guy like you needs to have your way with everything," and he laughs, adding, "Christ, I never had a chance with you, did I? It's those fucking Butterscotch Krimets you brought with you on our first date."

He said our first date!

Playing to what he wants to hear, I say, "The Krimpets and our haircuts."

He takes a deep breath, "Yeah, of course, our haircuts. And I like this 'effing haircut, by the way. We're keeping these haircuts all through college."

I sit up and lean against him, murmuring, "You know I'll go along with whatever you say."

He looks at me and puts his arm across my shoulders, "Yeah, of course, you will. Nothing's changed. I'm the guy, and you're my girl/guy. C'mon, let's clean up before my Mom gets back."

We put our jeans on, and he takes my hand and leads me to the bathroom down the hall. The holding my hand thing surprises me, but he's been doing it for weeks now. It's as if he doesn't even think about it; just does it as if it's the most natural thing in the world to do.

In the bathroom, he hands me a washcloth, then wets another one and cleans his dick as I wet my washcloth, then wipe my ass and the back of my legs again. Putting the washcloths in a hamper, we wash our hands and faces. He's the cleanest guy I've ever known!

Billy grins and uses a hand towel to dry my face, then gives me the towel, and he pulls another off the towel rack to dry himself, mumbling, "I've never been in love before. It's kinda cool."

Drying my hands, I go, "Me neither. You're the only guy I'll ever love."

He snickers, "Probably that's because I'm perfect for you," and he picks up a comb and combs my hair again as I stand here grinning.

He mumbles, "Christ, I'm always taking care of you."

I add, "Who you love," and he laughs, then combs his hair, "You're something, Gary. You're really something."

I go, "Something special," and we both chuckle.

In the bedroom, Billy gets on the bed, puts a pillow behind him, and sits up against the headboard. He smiles, asking, "Aren't you going to join me, lover boy?"

I go, "Wild horses couldn't stop me," and I get on the bed next to him. He moves part of the pillow behind me, mumbling, "You know, I only have your word for it that I'm in love with you. And, I'm not saying your word isn't good, just saying."

I snuggle against him, "You'll figure it out."

He puts his arm across my shoulders, muttering, "Yeah, I guess I will."

We talk about how maybe I won't need to buy a car if his dad gets one for him, then how we'll need to buy furniture for our college apartment if we don't get a furnished one, and how maybe buying furniture makes the most sense because we might need it for an apartment after college.

Oh man, I loved that idea! We're unsure what Billy will do when he graduates, and I'm a senior, but every topic we talk about is about us, and that makes me very, very happy. When we hear his mom in the kitchen, we finish getting dressed, put our coats on, and wander out of the bedroom as if nothing unusual or monumental has happened.

His mom says, "Would you boys please get the rest of the groceries from the car for me?" We do that, then sit on the loveseat/swing, and Billy goes, "I have classes tomorrow. Will you miss me?"

Pushing off with my foot gets the swing swinging as I mumble, "I always miss you." He mutters, "You're excellent for my ego, which hasn't always been in great shape."

Looking at him, I go, "Really? You're so popular with everyone."

Shrugging, he goes, "No, not really. I've never had what you'd call a close best friend. I don't even like some of the stiffs I used to hang out with before you and I became so close. Hanging out was just something to do, you know?"

Huh, that surprises me. I say, "Well, you've got a best friend now, and so do I."

He rubs the bristly hairs on my head, smiling and mumbling, "Yeah, and I've also got this thing that's developed recently where I get this irresistible urge to give you a hug. Ain't that dumb?"

I'm like, "Yeah, really dumb," and lean over to kiss him on the lips."

He goes, "Have I mentioned my Mom doesn't know I'm gay?" I point a finger at him, grinning and saying, "You said gay! A Freudian slip, or simply the truth?"

He snorts a laugh, mumbling, "You've got me saying all kinds of nonsensical shit. Stop it!"

Getting serious, I ask, "Are you going to ever tell your parents you're gay?" He goes, "No, because I'm not gay." I go, "No, be honest. Will you tell them?"

He goes, "Will you?" I shrug, "If you do, I will."

He squeezes the back of my neck, making me hunch my shoulder, then says, "Listen to me. Neither of us is telling our parent jack-shit except that we're best friends with the same haircuts and twin penises."

We both laugh at that, and then he goes, "Don't complicate things, Gary. We'll get our apartment and do whatever we want together, and it's nobody's 'effing business except ours, okay?"

I nod, "I'll do whatever you say 'cause you'll always be my top guy." He nods, "Good answer."

After thirty seconds of silence, he asks, "What will you do tomorrow while I have three classes?"

"Mom's and my shift at work doesn't start until Thursday this week, so I won't have work tomorrow. Ya know, it's my last shift there, and I'll turn in my notice. Um, but I don't know what I'll do tomorrow. If my friend George doesn't have classes tomorrow, maybe we'll do something."

"Um, you're not doing any messing around with this George character, are you?" Turning my head to make a face at him, I go, "What do you think?"

"Yeah, okay, I know you're not messing around with anyone but me." I go, "So, why would you even ask me that?"

To change the subject, he asks, "Have you ever had a nickname?" I go, "No, there's no nickname for Gary. My name is Gary Smith Wallingford. Smith is my Mom's maiden last name. It's dumb to have her last name as my middle name, but I had no control over that."

Snickering, he says, "Maybe I'll start calling you Smithy." "And I'll call you Woody for Underwood."

He goes, "Or I could call you Wally for Wallingford." I'm like, "Let's stick with Gary and Billy." He mutters, "Good idea."

His arm is across my shoulders again, and I'm leaning against him until it occurs to me that this is almost as gay as the kiss I gave Billy a few minutes ago. Sitting up, I say, "If your mom or dad sees us sitting like this, they might wonder what's up with us."

He takes his arm off my shoulders, "Goddammit, you're right! See how you've got me all screwed up?" I'm like, "Me? You had your arm across my 'effing shoulders."

He says, "And you were almost in my 'effing lap."

"Sorry, but I like being in your lap," and we both laugh. Smiling, he goes, "Your gayness is rubbing off on me, you pervert."

"I'll try not being so gay, okay?" He snickers, "Well, don't try too-too hard."

Getting up, he mutters, "Sitting in the swing is no fun if I can't take care of you. Do you want to go in the garage?"

"Yes, but it's almost dinner time, so I better get home." He says, "Already?" and I look at the time on my phone. "Yeah, I gotta go."

"I'll drive you," and he opens the back door, saying, "Mom, I'm driving Gary home."

At the curb outside my house, we sit in the idling SUV as if we don't want to end this day. Billy finally says, "Um, well, it was super fun today, bro."

I look at him, asking, "You're picking me up after dinner, aren't you?" Smiling, he pats my cheek, murmuring, "Of course I am. I can't disappoint my girl/guy," and he leans over and kisses me. "See you tonight, bro."

I'm grinning, "We're gonna get caught kissing one of these times." He shrugs, "It's dark. Nobody can see us."

Without realizing it, I'm squeezing my junk as I murmur, "I love you, Billy." He nods, smiling and mumbling, "No shit. I know you do. I'll see you after dinner, and we'll check out the Sear's parking lot."

Getting out, I reach out my hand, and Billy squeezes it, "See you later."

I'm speechless, mesmerized by Billy, so I only nod my head. What a fabulous loving day today has been! And I'm going to be with him again in an hour and a half. Being in love is a full-time luxury.

To be continued... donnymumford@outlook.com

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