Invited

Chapter 6

George Brown

Monday morning, as expected, I have a hangover, although it's not too-too bad. I drank like six cups of beer at the party, plus two shots of scotch whiskey, so it's mostly a beer hangover. And, overall, the party was okay, I guess. Heh heh, it got spectacular when George and I spent a half-hour in the backseat of his car.

Getting ready for work, taking care of business in the bathroom, I actually smile while combing my fabulous hair, haha. That's the first time I've ever referred to my hair as fabulous. Yeah, well, it's not fabulous, but I have changed my mind about this haircut. I now consider it an asset rather than an embarrassment. I changed my mind after hearing ten days of positive comments from almost everyone who had an opinion, including JR's girlfriend, Tuck. Stupid nickname for a girl, but whatever.

The college guys' stories about their freshman year focused primarily on drinking and drug activities. That seems reckless and, um, irresponsible, but it was their first year living away from home, so maybe that's typical behavior for first-year college students. I'd probably be doing the same things if I lived on a college campus.

Anyway, dressed and ready for work, I go downstairs and find Mom in the kitchen. She says, "Good morning, dear; how was the party last night?"

Putting a k-cup in the coffee maker, I mumble, "It was okay. Um, Mom, it's raining cats and dogs out there this morning, so would you give me a ride to work?" She says, "Sure, Gary, but my shift starts at noon, so I won't be able to give you a ride home."

After swallowing two Tylenol with a small glass of OJ, I say, "I can get a ride home." I'm pretty sure George will give me a ride, and, hmm, there won't be anybody here at the house, which presents possibilities, ya know?

Mom drops me off at the employee entrance. After thanking her, I run through the rain to the door, getting a little wet. I would have been more than a little wet riding my bike here this morning. It's going to suck collecting shopping carts in the rain, but that's my job. Putting on the new black face mask that Mom gave me, I sign in and notice George's name above mine, so he's in the stockroom already.

Wandering down to Janice's register, I say good morning, and she nods, saying, "Hi, Gary," and that's it for our conversation. I start bagging the groceries that have accumulated at the end of the conveyor belt. Tedious work, but after doing two customers' orders, we have a couple of minutes without a customer.

Janice turns around and asks, "Have you done anything special lately, Gary?" I go, "Not really. How about you?" She says, "I was at a party last night, which was fun." I'm like, "Oh, yeah? Well, parties are fun; um, where was your party?"

A customer starts unloading their shopping cart at our station's conveyor belt as Janice says, "It was at a big house on the Main Line. You know, in suburban Philadelphia. Have you ever been in that area?"

Is it me, or did she seem to be implying something? I'm blushing as, Omigod, could she mean JR's party? I didn't see her there, but I wasn't paying attention to who was there because I didn't expect to know anyone. No, it would be too big a coincidence! Plus, she would have come over and said something if she had been there. She wasn't there.

Yeah, but I'm not positive she wasn't there, so, as I'm bagging, I nervously ask, "Um, your party last night, who was it for?" Continuing to scan, she goes, "Nobody, it was just a family get-together. My parents and my aunts and uncles and cousins, like that. A family reunion with our rich relatives on the Main Line. I took Franc, my boyfriend, and we mostly hung out with my cousin, Judy, and her boyfriend." Whew!

I'm like, "Uh-huh, did you drink much?" She chuckles and mutters, "How'd you know?" The lady customer says, "Young lady, you didn't take the instant discount tag off the sausage. Please pay attention to what you're doing."

What a bitch!

Janice mumbles, "Sorry," and gets the 50-cent discount tag and scans it. After that, we don't talk. Still, it was a bizarre coincidence--both of us at a party on the Main Line Sunday night. I can't wait to tell George. Jesus, haha, it was a shocker for a second there.

At a quarter to ten, I can't put off going out in the rain to work the parking lot any longer, so I get the oversized yellow raincoat from the employee lounge, the one all cart collectors use. With the hood up, I go out in the rain to do my job.

I still can't get over the exchange with Janice. Wow, and it's just now occurring to me that I'm NOT at all ready to face my parents telling them I'm gay. And why that eventuality hasn't occurred to me until now, I couldn't say. Maybe because it's only been a few weeks since my first gay experience with Billy, and I'm only now fully accepting that being gay is not a fad, a goofily funky lark; it's real life, and it's forever.

If Janice had been at our Main Line party and saw George and me dancing together, the word would have spread around the store in no time. Mom would have eventually heard about it and been humiliated that she had no idea her little boy was gay. Omigod, why am I just now realizing that being gay affects my parents too?

The rain had stopped around eleven o'clock, so George and I went outside at noon for our fifteen-minute break. We take our masks off but can't sit at the soaking wet picnic table. We stand away from the door and smoke his Winston cigarettes as I tell him about Janice's Main Line party.

George laughs, "Holy crap, Gary, you must have been peeing your pants when she said the Main Line." I'm not laughing, though. I remind him that my Mom works here.

He gets serious, "Oh, and you haven't come out to your Mom. I mean, of course, you haven't. Christ, you've only recently admitted that you're gay." I go, "It's more like I recently realized I was gay, George. You said I admitted it, which makes it sound as if I knew but fought it off or something." He says, "Sorry, I didn't mean anything by that, Gary," and he rubs my shoulder. Yeah, well...

A few seconds later, he asks, "Are you okay?" I shrug, "Yeah, I guess, but what's it like telling your parents? My Mom is wicked nice, and I hate the thought of hurting her."

He tells me how he concluded he was gay sometime between his thirteenth and fourteenth birthdays but didn't act upon this knowledge until the summer after his high school sophomore year. It was when he was at the Jersey shore as a guest of his best buddy's family. He and his friend shared a double bed, eventually messing around, goosing one another, squeezing one another's balls, which led to mutual jerk-offs and eventually experimental blowjobs. After that week at the shore, they weren't best buddies anymore. They drifted apart and ended up not even talking to one another.

I'm like, "Oh, I'm sorry, George. That's a hard way to lose a best friend, but when did you tell your parents you're gay?"

Shrugging, he goes, "It wasn't planned or anything. They must have figured it out for themselves because one Sunday afternoon Dad and I were at a Phillies game late in my junior year. Out of the blue, he casually asked about my love life. He put it in some innocent way, and I looked at him and told him I didn't have a love life yet, and that it'd be with a guy when and if I ever had a love life."

I go, "Holy shit, what'd he say?" George shrugs again, "He said something like, son, ya gotta be what you gotta be. You know, as if it weren't a big deal one way or the other."

I'm like, "That was all there was to it?" He nods, "Pretty much until Mom a few weeks later told me, again out of the blue, about her female cousin who recently split up with her girlfriend, the cousin's girlfriend, after living together as lovers for ten years. I gave her a strange look, then she said something about how gay couples have a lot of the same romance problems as everyone else, and I said something about how I wouldn't know about that as I've never had a boyfriend. She said she was pretty sure an attractive guy like me would have one, and she was right because I fell in love my senior year."

I ask, "What happened with that?" He grins, "Well, I fell in love, but Forrest didn't. He simply liked getting his dick sucked."

Making a face, I'm like, "Forrest?" George laughs, "Yeah, he had that silly family first name. His even sillier nickname was Tree. We lasted about five months together. Then, as I was coming out of a movie theater one night with a friend, I saw Tree with another guy making out. I was heartbroken. Since then, I've had dates with guys, but no boyfriends."

I mumble, "Your parents were very understanding, but your experience, um, coming out probably doesn't go that well very often." He says, "I don't know, Gary, it's more accepted than years ago. Anyway, there's no rush telling people you're gay, especially your parents. Give it time, and it might work itself out naturally."

I don't know how the hell that would happen, but I nod my head and leave it at that.

George dumps his cigarette butt into a puddle and says, "There's a new Kingsmen movie at the multiplex we could see tonight if you want." I brighten up, "Yeah, I saw the first two Kingsmen flicks. The special effects are awesome. How about that guy getting cut in half from his head to his junk, remember?"

He grins, "Yeah, that happened in the second Kingsmen movie; awesomely cool." Then I'm like, "Oh before I forget, can you give me a ride home after work? My Mom drove me here, but she's starting her twelve to five shift and can't drive me home."

He goes, "Balls--today of all days. I've got a dentist appointment at two-thirty. My dentist's office is on 69th Street, opposite direction from your house. Um, do you wanna come with me? I'll give you a ride home after that."

I'm like, "Yeah, I guess, thank you." As we walk inside, he pats my shoulder, saying, "Don't worry about telling your parents, Gary. Relax and give it some time. It'll work out okay." Nodding, I mumble, "Yeah, thanks, George. That's what I'll do."

Collecting carts a little later, I figured out that I could get Mom's car keys, drive myself home, and then pick her up at five. I could do that, but I'd rather accept George's invitation to go with him to his dentist. When he drops me off at home, as I said earlier, no one will be there except me and perhaps George.

At two o'clock, I meet him in the employee lounge, signing out. He grins, "I'm psyched that you're coming with me this afternoon," and he puts his arm around the back of my waist.

I say, "No, please don't do that here. Someone will notice, and, um, you know." He says, "Sorry. I like touching you. It's your fault for being so, ah, so touchable."

That makes me think of touchy/feely Billy. Huh, maybe he's only touchy/feely with me. No, that's wrong; Billy's like that with everyone. I miss him, and I just realized that. He'll be back from vacation next week.

Billy's like my mentor, and I'm hoping he'll mentor me about the next BIG messing around sex part of being gay, meaning the taking it up my ass part. In the videos, it looks simple enough. The bottom guys in the videos like it as much as the top guys. Most of the videos I watch are from the Barely Eighteen genre, guys about my age. It doesn't look as sexy-hot when older men do it, but I won't be their age for years, and then I'll probably think differently about it.

As we're driving to 69th Street, I'm thinking those thoughts. George asks, "Why so quiet, Gary? Are you still worried about telling your folks?" Shaking my head, "No, I'm following your advice and putting off that worry. I may never tell them. It's just that everything is happening so fast, I need to calm down, and you're helping me do that, so, thanks."

He says, "You're doing amazingly well for someone who only realized you were gay a few weeks ago. Um, I have a sense there is someone else, though."

He glances at me, "Is there another guy, Gary? I'm only asking because you did the oral sex better than a first-timer." I nod, "Yes, this other guy, um, he's the one who taught me how to make out and how to do oral sex. That only happened a few weeks ago, though. Before that, I'd never even thought of messing around with anyone. He's on vacation."

George asks, "Is he, you know, like your boyfriend?" Shaking my head again, "No, we're not boyfriends. I like him, though. He's as nice as you, or almost as nice, but I don't think he likes me as much as you do."

George snorts a laugh and says, "There is no filter between what you think and what you say, is there?" I go, "Whaddaya mean, filter?" He goes, "It's that you don't seem to, um, couch what you say. You know, it's as if you don't put your thoughts through a, um, like a sieve of reflection, you just blurt out whatever you're thinking."

I shrug, "I see what you're saying, but I don't always do that. I have a filter in that I wouldn't say something that hurts someone's feelings. And I lie a lot too."

He snorts another laugh, then asks, "Have you lied to me?"

Shrugging again, "No, I don't think so. Well, that's not true; that was a lie 'cause I didn't tell you about Billy. I said I learned to do oral sex from watching videos. That was partly true, but not the whole truth. Oh, and I lied to you about my age and about going to college."

He laughs again, then mumbles, "Why do you bother to lie if you're so willing to admit you lied when asked about it?" Chuckling, I mumble, "I don't know. It does seem stupid when you put it that way. Here's the thing, though, I never lie about anything important." George snickers, "Oh, that's good to hear."

We put on masks to go into the dentist's office, and inside, George checks in at the front desk, where they take his temperature. I sit in the waiting area with three other people. George comes over, mumbling, "They're still taking temperature because of the virus."

I go, "My dentist didn't do that the last time I was there a month ago. They used to, though." Three minutes later, the hygienist takes George in the back, and forty minutes after that, we're walking to the car, George saying, "It was just a six-month cleaning, but that Goddamn water pic thing she used was like a drill." Nodding, "Yeah, I know what you mean. It's nothing like the water pics you can buy to use at home."

On our way to my house, I say, "Damn, I hope I have the house key," and reach in my pants pocket, adding, "Nobody is home, and I'd hate to break a window getting inside."

George goes, "Jesus, Gary! You don't have a key?" Pulling the key out, I go, "Yeah, I got it, but I left in a hurry this morning, so I panicked there for a second."

That was another lie because I knew I had the key, but I wanted George to know there wasn't anyone home. Devious of me, hoping he'll suggest coming inside with me.

George goes, "Do you wanna hang out this afternoon? I've got nothing special to do." I'm like, "Sure, I'd like that."

There you go, that was an invitation if I've ever heard one. Parking at my house, George asks, "Are you into Fortnite?" I go, "I've played it, sure. I used to play it more, but recently I've been watching many gay porn videos."

He laughs aloud, then goes, "Jesus, that's a perfect example of an unfiltered remark. Most guys wouldn't be so open about gorging on gay porn."

Unlocking the front door, I go, "Well, I wouldn't admit that to just anybody. We're gay buddies, though, right?" He goes, "You got me there. You're right; I see your point."

As I get two cans of Coke from the refrigerator, he asks, "So, do you wanna watch porn instead of playing Fortnite?" Swallowing some soda, I'm like, "What do you want to do?" He grins, "Watch porn with you, and then do some porn with you."

I can't help but grin, nodding my head, muttering, "Okay." George grins too, "Or, heh heh, we could skip the videos altogether and get right into making our own porn."

I'm looking at the perfect light-brown, smooth-as-silk skin on his hairless cheeks. Grinning, I lean over and lick his cheek. He laughs, rubbing his cheek, saying, "What's with you and licking me?"

I shrug, "I don't know. Your skin is like a baby's; don't you shave?" He says, "Yeah, I shave every day," and I'm like, "You do a damn good job of it," and I lick his lips. He gets his arm around my neck and holds my face against his as we kiss, then lick tongues and kiss again.

Letting go of me, he asks, "Isn't kissing better than licking my face?" I go, "I like doing both with you."

Squinting his eyes, he drinks some Coke, then goes, "You're not shy, are you?" Lightly rubbing the back of my fingers on his cheek, I mumble, "I guess not, although I thought I would be. Not with you, though. That's because you told me you have a serious thing for me. I guess I feel as though you won't mind whatever I do, licking you or whatever." He grins, saying, "And I guess you'd be right about that."

Drinking some more Coke, George asks, "Can we go outside and have a smoke?" "Sure, let's go out the kitchen door to the backyard."

Outside, George lights two cigarettes and passes one to me. We smoke sitting on the back steps. Cigarettes still taste terrible, but I can smoke them without coughing now. Cigarette smoke stinks, it smells horrible, but I don't notice the stench that much when I smoke one myself. However, the main reason I smoke is that Geoge and Billy both smoke, and I guess I'm a follower. Everybody can't be a leader, or else there wouldn't be anyone left to lead. Yeah, I know, that's rationalized bullshit.

We talk about tonight's movie and where we'll go afterward. Finished our cigarettes and sodas, we go back inside. Remembering Billy suggested doing this last time we were together, I'm like, "Here's an idea, George. Let's go to my bedroom and take off our shirts. We can lie on my bed."

He makes a face, asking, "Why should we take off our shirts?" Grinning, I mumble, "Well, if you wanted to make out a little, it will be sexy feeling our bare bodies touching, doncha think? It's just a suggestion."

He shrugs, "Sure, yeah, that's a damn good idea." Dumping our Coke cans in the recycle bin, I say, "I guess I need to tell you it's not my original idea; it was my friend Billy's idea." George goes, "Oh? It's still a good idea, though."

We take our shirts off in my bedroom. George grins, mumbling, "Are you going to lick my chest?" The skin on his smooth, hairless chest is the same as the skin on his face. I'm like, "Yeah, probably, and your tight belly too."

He snickers, muttering, "Oh, boy, no one's wanted to do that." I don't know the right way to start anything, so I copy what Billy said when we were here, "So, do you want to get on my bed?"

George murmurs, "Yeah, sure, but let me look at you for a second." Feeling self-conscious, I'm like, "I know I'm on the skinny side, but I've been thinking about doing some weight lifting."

He shakes his head, "No, I hope you don't do that because I like you just the way you are. Look, Gary, I know you're having a hard time believing me, but I'm seriously attracted to you. I think you're perfect exactly the way you are right now."

He's right; it is hard to believe. Smiling, he adds, "Do you know why Tuck, as soon as she saw you said I finally found my dream boyfriend?"

Shaking my head slowly, he grins, saying, "It's because about a hundred times last year, I described to those guys what I consider the perfect boyfriend, and you fit that description perfectly." I go, Really?"

Grinning, he nods his head, "Yep. They were trying to match me up, and I told them my fantasy boyfriend would be my height and slim, cute, clean-cut, gay, and a virgin. I never expected to find that ideal guy, but you're it. Um, except for a few blowjobs with this guy Billy, you're close enough to a virgin."

I feel my face getting red. He laughs, blushing a little too, "It's embarrassing to admit all that." I mutter, "I'll say. I mean, it's a little embarrassing for me too."

We're standing here three feet apart, holding our shirts. Shrugging, he goes, "Well, now you know I'm serious about having a major thing for you, a major crush. Take advantage of me all you want because you're irresistible to me."

Gulping, I mumble, "No! I mean, no, I'm not going to take advantage of you. I don't even know what you mean by that." He says, "Of course, you don't."

It's a little awkward for a second, then George asks, "What should I do with my shirt?" Holding out my hand, he gives it to me, and I put both shirts on the chair on top of Billy's little bathing suit that's still on the chair.

George puts his arm across my shoulders and says, "I like your idea of getting on the bed." I laughed and mumbled, "That was Billy's idea too. Taking our shirts off and getting on the bed are both his ideas."

He says, "This guy has good ideas, but I'd rather think they're your ideas if it's okay with you." I go, "Oh, okay." He's chuckling, mumbling, "Jesus, you're really something."

As soon as we lie on the bed, George rolls over partially on top of me. He snickers, then gives my cheek a lick, murmuring, "You licked me, so I lick you," and then he gently kisses my lips. Lifting his head, he says, "Your chest and stomach feel good."

I put my arms around him, and we do a long kiss, then his tongue feels sexy on my tongue as he slides it here and there. More kissing follows, wet sloppy kissing as George squeezes his hand between my legs and rubs my quickly hardening dick. My heart beats hard and fast as a moan of deep arousal, "Ooh. Ummm," unexpectedly comes from my throat.

Why have I waited so long to experience this indescribable ecstasy? Lately, I've been experiencing sensations I didn't even know existed.

After making out, groveling against one another for three or four minutes, I need to turn my head away to mutter, "I'm going to cum, George, ah, wait a minute, please."

He murmurs, "Don't do that. Let me," and he slides off my chest and unsnaps my jeans, pulling down the zipper. Together we get my jeans and underpants to my knees, and George licks from my belly down through my pubic patch to lick from the root to the head of my now hard cock.

I've got shivers all over as he sucks on the head, then goes up and down on the shafts, the head going into his throat, once, twice, three times, and my back arches as I gag out a squeal and, shaking now, blow my load in his mouth.

It's a fantastic climax with orgasmic waves of sexual pleasure spreading out from my groin to my extremities. George sucks all my cum down his throat and then licks cum remnants from my cock and balls. I'm back to shivering at that and the after-effects of my mighty orgasm.

George smacks his lips as he slides back up next to me, saying, "We both cum too quickly, doncha think?"

As I pull my pants up, I can't catch my breath. Then nod and mutter, "I guess, but that felt spectacular." He rubs his fingers through my hair, kisses my lips, then says, "Why do you put that glop in your hair, Gary?"

I'm like, "Huh? What? Oh, you mean the butch wax. To make my hair lie forward on top and the front stick up. Lots of people have said it looks good like this."

He goes, "Yeah, and I was one of them, but it's been a few weeks since your haircut, so, by now, don't you think your hair is trained to do that without that gooey stuff?"

My fingers go through his short soft hair as I mumble, "Huh, I never thought of that. I'll see what happens when I don't use the goop after showering tonight. I got in the habit of using the butch stuff, ya know?"

Snuggling against me, he murmurs, "Yep, I get that." He lies his arm across my stomach for a hug as he goes, "So, did you like my oral sex on your perfect penis?"

I get my arm under his shoulders, saying, "You know I did. It was indescribably wonderful, and I want to do it for you. I can't do it as good as you, but I'll do my best." He murmurs, "You did great last time, but let's hold off for a while, okay? I like lying here with you. You smell good too."

Huh, I'll be dammed, and I didn't even use the AXE Body Spray today.

How did this happen, though? It doesn't seem possible. Three or four weeks ago, I couldn't imagine sucking a guy's dick. Seriously, I would have sworn I'd never do that, and now I'm anxious to blow George. I'm willing to get fucked whenever Billy gets around to it too. Anxiously looking forward to experiencing that with him.

And another confusing matter is why I have a thing for Billie and not George when George likes me more than Billy does. Billy easily goes a week or two without even thinking about me, and George wants to go out with me two nights in a row.

Maybe my infatuation with Billy, if that's what it is, is because he sort of turned my life on, and I'm now on this hard-to-believe roller coaster ride of gay sexual messing around that I've taken to like a duck to water. It's breathtaking, and I owe it all to Billy. If not for him, I'd never have gone on last night's date with George because I doubt whatever made George think I might be gay wouldn't have been there.

Whatever, I do have unique feelings for Billy that I don't have for George. I can't make myself have the same feelings for George. It's not a matter of making myself; it either happens, or it doesn't. But even without the same feelings that I have for Billy, I'm still having a great time with George Brown.

He murmurs, "Last night, I was fantasizing about how perfect it would be if we were cuddling like this some morning. I mean, after sleeping together. We'd probably take our time making love a couple of times before showering together and then enjoy spending the day doing whatever we felt like doing."

I go, "Well, I'm planning to get my own place as soon as I get a car and a good-paying full-time job." He goes, "I was thinking along the lines of us sharing the apartment near the college this fall, you in your freshman year and me a sophomore at Drexel."

"I'm sorry, Geroge, but I'm not going to college. Not until next year at the earliest, and that's not certain."

He sighs, "Well, I said it was a fantasy. Anyway, Drexel isn't that far from here, and I'm hoping for a relationship with you. I'll have a car, and I plan on winning you over." Leaning my head over, I kiss his lips, "You've already won me over, George."

Then I use the filter that he doesn't think I have by NOT adding that he's my second favorite buddy to mess around with.

Getting up on his elbow, he looks down at me, "What I mean by winning you over is being so sexy and nice that you'll eventually crave me as much as I crave you."

I'm like, "Whaddaya mean, crave?"

Smiling, he says, "Have a powerful desire to be with me and make love with me." Nodding, I mutter, "Be in love with you. Is that what you mean?" Gently sliding the pad of his finger across my lips, he says, "Well, that would be perfect, of course, but I'll settle for you having a powerful attraction to me."

Hmm, George is too advanced, too experienced in the dynamics of gay relations for a novice like me. Unable to come up with an appropriate response to that last remark, I instead ask, "Would you like me to blow you now?"

He snorts out a laugh and goes, "Yes." Okay, I'm back in my recently acquired comfort zone of sucking dick. I think he was talking about romance while I'm just at the early stage of messing around with a friend. That's something that both Billy and George said they explored as young teenagers. I'm three or four years behind.

Looking into George's big shiny dark eyes, I say, "In case you don't know, I like you a lot, George. I hope I haven't said or done anything to hurt your feelings."

He goes, "You haven't, Gary. I was getting ahead of myself." I mumble, "Oh, good, I, um..."

Then I slide down the bedspread and pull his khaki's down, then his underpants. His tan-colored penis with the rosy head lies partially against his thigh and partially on his longish scrotum. On my knees, sitting on the back of my calves, then leaning in, I lick his scrotum, then pick up his penis. Holding it, I do another lick on his scrotum, this time from one side, under his balls, to the other side, then lick up from the root of his cock to the head. George quivers a little as he holds onto my shoulders. Sucking the head into my mouth, my tongue slides around it as I begin stroking the hardening shaft.

George grunts, "Ah, ah," then he giggles, muttering, "Fuck, that feels good, Gary. Jesus..." His cock quickly is hard enough that, covering my teeth, I can bob up and down on it. I have a hand on either side of his thighs, and it's all very intimately arousing to me. Doing oral sex on Billy and George has become my favorite thing in the world to do, even more so than George sucking my dick. I suppose it's unusual to like sucking cock over having my cock sucked.

Within thirty seconds, his penis becomes a rock-hard boner, so I tighten my mouth, continuing to go up and down on it. George squirms on the bedspread humping his hips a little and squeezing my shoulders harder. I try taking his hard cock head in my throat but gag and lose my rhythm for bobbing up and down on it. I don't try that again; getting back to a smooth rhythm fucking his cock with my mouth, my dick gets hard as wood.

It's intensely arousing doing this, and I pick up speed, making a few moaning sounds of arousal. George moans, doing his little hip humps as I feel his cock getting bigger. Then he lifts his ass off the bed and blows his load in my mouth. A good load of creamy cum some of which drools out and slides down my chin. I might have climaxed with him if he had held off another thirty seconds.

He thrashes around a little, pulling his cock from my mouth, then stroking it, groaning, "Oh, man! Wow, I loved that, Gary. Watching your baby face concentrate was so fucking hot I can't even begin to describe it."

I'm like, "It was sexy, George, and I was near the tipping-off point of a climax too." He gets his hands under my arms, pulling me up until I'm half lying on him. Hugging hugs me, then kissing the side of my face, he murmurs, "Thank you for that."

Billy never thanked me, and when I thanked George for that time he blew me, he said no one ever thanked him before either. I say, "I like doing that; I really do." Chuckling, he hugs me tighter and does five or six quick kisses on my face, then murmurs, "I could eat you up; you're so perfect."

Well, I'd be lying if I pretended it doesn't feel fantastic to be liked as much as George apparently likes me. That's totally new for me, and it's an extraordinary good feeling. The best part is how sincere George is about it. And ya know what? George doesn't have a filter either, not when expressing how much he likes me.

I very much like bodily contact with him, and there's a lot of that between our oral sex acts, skin on skin, mouth to mouth. So now there are two people in the world, no make it three if I include my boss, John, who I not only don't mind their touching, but I like it a lot. They can touch me all they want, which is another significant change in me

After a while, with mixed saliva around our mouths, we stopped making out and squirming against one another. George murmurs, "I'd like to lie here like this for a while, Gary. Is that okay with you?"

He has his arms around me as I lie against his side, my right pec on his left one, my right leg between his legs, my right arm across his stomach, and my face nestled against the side of his neck. I nod slightly, murmuring, "Uh-huh," and he hugs me, then lightly rubs my back quietly, saying, "God, I love feeling your body against mine. I know, I've probably told you ten times already, but you are the blond-headed boyfriend of my dreams. You're perfect."

Wow, I never once thought there was anything near perfect about me. I murmur, my lips moving against the side of George's neck, "You smell good," and get a hug as he chuckles and says, "Hey, are you just saying that because I said you smelled good?"

Lifting my head, I'm like, "No, it's not that. Well, maybe you saying I smell good made me notice the scent of your skin. That could be, but whatever, I do think you smell good."

Putting a hand on the back of my head with gentle pressure, he gets my face against the side of his neck again as he murmurs, "Well, thank you. That makes me feel good." Lying this way with George is so pleasurable, sexual, and unfathomable all at the same time. I'm having a hard time believing an attractive cool guy like George could desire me the way he seems to. And how can he overlook the dumb ignorant dorky things I say and do?

When we've been lying together like this for at least a half-hour, George turns his head and says, his lips moving against my ear, "I could lie with you like this till tomorrow morning, but I need to pick my Mom up at work in a little while. Would you like to suck me off again, or I'll suck you off?"

Taking my arm from across his stomach, I grope my hard cock, mumbling, "Sure, I mean, yes, I'd like to do that. I seriously would, George."

Hugging me tighter, he mutters, "I think I'm in love with you." Taking his arms from around me, he adds, "I'll try not to cum as fast this time."

Nodding, I'm like, "Yeah, okay," and slide down his side. Kneeling next to him, I move his boner against his belly and lick his balls and the inside of his legs next to his scrotum. I try to control myself and do it slowly, but his genitals arouse me. Soon my nose, chin, and all around my mouth are wet with my saliva, my face pressed against his body, my tongue licking up and down and under and all over his scrotum plus the inside of his thighs as low moaning sounds of arousal come from my throat.

My cock is a cement pole sticking straight out from my groin as precum drools from George's boner. I lick off the precum from his pubic hairs getting a few hairs in my mouth. George groans, rubbing my shoulders and up and down my back. Pulling his boner away from his belly, getting it up straight, I go down on it one, two, three, four times with both of us moaning. George's back arches as he goes, "Ahhh!" and we both blow out smallish shots of cum. My cum shot feels like a river, but it plops against George's side only as a wet spot.

We're shuddering and gasping for air as he pushes my head away and pulls on his cock. Wiping at the tiny shot of cum on George's side, I mumble, "I shot off on you, George. Sorry."

He breathes deeply and pulls me down on top of him, kissing me, then gasping out a laugh and saying, "That okay. That climax felt better than anything I could think of. You blew your load too, huh? I'll take that as a tremendously encouraging sign that I sexually arouse you a little."

Pulling pubic hair from my mouth, I swallow two or three times, clearing my mouth of the last of his latest semen deposit.

His cock, now flaccid, is between us with the tip of the head against my bare belly. I feel his heart beating against my chest as George asks, "Have you ever cum when blowing anyone before?"

He seems so proud that it happened. I think this is an okay time to lie, so I'm like, "No, never. Well, I've only sucked you off three times and my other friend two or three times. That's not much of a sample size."

He snickers, "You're so honest it's, um, well, I don't know what it is. I'm glad you shot off while blowing me, though, and not that other guy."

He squeezes me with both arms, then says, "Damn, I need to pee." I slide off him, mumbling, "Me too." He pulls up his pants as I get off the bed, and we walk down the hall grinning and making goofy faces at each other. Standing together in front of the toilet, holding our dicks, George starts peeing right away, but I can't get it started yet. The same thing happened when Billy and I were peeing together.

George finishes and puts his dick back in his pants as my piss steam weakly starts and then comes out full blast. George says, "Everything you do is cute, Gary." Shrugging, I mutter, "I have a hard time, um, pissing with someone watching." He turns on the spigot washing his hands, saying, "I wasn't watching." Yes, he was.

I wash my hands, and we go downstairs with George smiling and as happy as can be, saying, "This was the best afternoon I've ever had with anyone, um, except for the part getting my teeth cleaned."

At the front door, he kisses me. It's a lover's kind of kiss with his arms around me, so I put my arms around him. We do a fifteen-second kiss goodbye, then he steps back, rubs my head, then laughs, rubbing his hands on his pants, mumbling, "That fucking goop in your hair, haha. I forgot."

I go, "I'll wash it out before our date," and he goes, "Should I pick you up at seven? Is that a good time?" I nod, "Yep; we can make the seven-twenty showing of the Kingsmen." He goes, "It's a date," and he leans in for a quick last kiss, then says, "I can't wait. See you at seven!"

Stepping outside the front door with him, I do a little hand wave and watch him drive away. Going back inside, I know I like him, but I can't seem to work up the amount of, um, I don't know what it is, affection, desire, or whatever that he appears to have for me. He's either overdoing it, or I'm underdoing it.

Yeah, well, once again, my inexperience is glaring. And I'm not saying it isn't a great feeling being liked so much by George, but, ya know, I'm not doing my part as well as I should. Meaning, sort of the girl part. With Billy, I feel more comfortable doing my part correctly because he makes it clear that he's the guy. I'm the prize to George, and I'm definitely not clear on that part yet.

Going back to my bedroom, I straighten the bedspread and use a washcloth to wipe up what could be either precum or cum from one of us, then flop on the bed and go over in my mind the past couple of hours. Jesus, I don't know why I'm worried about anything. I mean, it's been a fantastic afternoon. That being said, I think as great a time as I had with George, it would have been an even better couple of hours doing everything with Billy.

That's so unfair of me, unfair to George, but I can't help how I feel. George wants me to crave for him when I crave for Billy. Groping my junk, I try imagining being the girl with Billy fucking me and end up jerking off, getting only a watery plop of something for a climax. I squealed out Billy's name when I climaxed, shuddering and flouncing around on the bed. Holy shit that felt fantastic.

How many orgasms did I have this afternoon? Well, I need to hurry if I want to shower before dinner. Going down the hall to the bathroom, I hear Mom coming in the front door from work, so I have more time than I thought. I call, "Hi, Mom. Did you come straight home after work?"

She says, "Hi, Gary, no, I shopped for groceries when my shift was over. Why do you ask?" Leaning on the railing, I say, "I have a date; I meant, I'm going to the movies at seven o'clock, and I was checking on the time." She says, "We'll have dinner at six o'clock." I yell down, "Great; I've got the time to take a shower." She says, "Not one of your half-hour showers."

I don't take half-hour showers!

Sometimes I'll jerk off in the shower, but that only adds a few minutes. I haven't needed to do a lot of jerking off of late anyway. Well, I just did jerk off, but that's the first time today.

Carefully shampooing my hair, then showering, I'm out of the tub in ten minutes, drying myself. Then, I fuck around with my hair, combing it down and forward with the short bangs in front combed up. I'll see what it looks like when it dries. Rubbing deodorant under my arms, then a quick spray of AXE Body Spray, I put on boxer underpants, cargo shorts, a polo pullover, socks, and sneakers.

Sitting at my desk, I go online and watch one of my favorite gay porn videos of two guys messing around fucking. The girl/guy gets a hard boner that sticks straight out as he's taking it up the ass, both guys standing. Gawd that looks hot!

Hmm, how can I get Billy to do me like that? I'll need to hint around getting him to suggest it, assuming he'll even want to do it with me. He mentioned once that I need to buy condoms if I want him to do me but never mentioned it again. But how could he since he went to the shore the next day?

After watching the five-minute video twice, I feel my hair. Good, it's dry, so I check myself out in the mirror. Huh, George was right; my hair stayed in place the way I combed it without goop. I carefully run a comb through it, my blond hair shining brightly without the butch wax darkening it.

Well, okay, I don't need the butch stuff, but, damn, my short hair is starting to look slightly, um, unkempt. It's touching the tops of my ears and uneven across the front. Well, balls, short hairstyles need to be cut every few weeks. That's if you want to keep the preppy clean-cut look George was talking about.

It would be beyond dorky of me to ask George what he thinks. Ya, know, asking him if I need a haircut. And what will Billy think after he said I looked good when I got this new hairdo? I mean, if he sees me when my hair is uneven and ragged-looking growing over the tops of my ears? I guess I need to be like him and get a haircut every three weeks. That's a massive change from getting one every three or four months.

At dinner, I'm kind of hoping Dad will reinforce my thinking by saying something about me needing a haircut, but he, of course, is no help. After dinner, I brush my teeth, then go outside to wait for George. I'll mention that he was right about me not needing the butch stuff, which should bring attention to my hair. Then I'll see what he has to say about me needing a haircut, assuming he says anything.

At five of seven, Geoge pulls up in his mom's car, giving me a sweet-looking grin. I grin back as I get in the passenger seat. He goes, "Hey, Gary, I gotta tell you, bro, this afternoon with you was one helluva a great time."

I nod, "Yeah, it sure was. Hey, you were right; I don't need the butch wax." He pulls away from the curb, mumbling, "Good, now I can run my fingers through your hair. I know where we can go after the movies." I'm like, "Oh, where's that?" He says, "The Sear's parking lot. They went out of business except for the auto center, which isn't open at night."

Looking at him, I get a twitch in my dick because I like his looks more and more, and I enjoyed making out with him. I mumble, "I got a tingling in my dick thinking about after the movie."

We both snicker, and he goes, "I'm getting more encouraged by the minute that we'll be awesome boyfriends sooner than later." Glancing at me, he asks, "Do you think we will?"

I go, "Maybe we already are boyfriends. Um, do you think I need a haircut?" He glances at me again, "Yeah, I guess. I don't know, maybe. Your hair looks great, though. I've always had a thing for blonds, ya know," and he chuckles. Well, okay then. I'll get a haircut this week. George didn't think I was a dork asking him about that.

Going into the multiplex, I wonder if George will try paying for my ticket. I don't want that because I only play the girl part when messing around. No problem, though, he buys his ticket, and I buy mine, then we both buy big bags of popcorn. Two hours later, coming out of the movie, George goes, "Thank was a good movie, but it wasn't as good as the first two."

Nodding, I go, "I agree, but, more importantly, I'm dying of thirst after eating all that salty popcorn."

We stop in at a Friendlies, and I get a glass of water and a rootbeer float. George gets a cup of coffee, and then he insists on paying for my rootbeer float, "I'll get this, Gary. I wanted to buy your ticket to the movies too but figured you'd be insulted."

I mumble, "Yeah, well, maybe when we're boyfriends and doing, you know, me doing the girl part."

He laughs aloud, then goes, "Jesus, you're funny. The shit you come up with using that deadpan delivery of yours." I'm like, "No, I was serious," and he laughs again, then pulls my rootbeer float over to his side of the table and sucks on the straw, mumbling, "Hmm, hmm, good."

George pays, and as we're coming out of Friendlies, John Baxter, our boss, is holding hands with a girl who looks older and bigger than him. She's wearing glasses with blue frames like Jonh's.

George goes, "Hey! Hi John, whassup Barb?" I'm like, "Hi," not wanting to believe John has a girlfriend. The girl named Barb says to George, "Hey stud-boy, how's it going?"

John says, "Well, lookie here, two of my best part-times. Barb, the good-looking guy with George, is Gary Wallingford. Gary, this is my high school sweetheart Barbara O'Neil."

She says, "Nice to meet you, Gary," and I mumble, "Hi." John says, "I'm not surprised you guys became friends. Two conscientious, serious guys." George goes, "Yeah, we just saw that new Kingsmen movie. It wasn't as good as the first two." Barb says, "Don't tell me anything; John and I are going tomorrow night."

John says, "Nice seeing you guys. See you tomorrow, I hope," and he chuckles.

We drive to the Sears parking lot. I ask, "How'd you know that girl?" George says, "John had a party on Memorial Day and invited the part-timers, plus whoever we wanted to bring."

I'm like, 'Who did you take?" He grins at me, "Nobody. They don't know I'm gay if that's what you're thinking." I shake my head, "I wasn't thinking that." I was thinking, what a dope I was hoping John was gay and interested in me.

Driving through the parking lot, I ask, "How long has Sears been out of business?" He shrugs, "I don't know. This one has been closed for a couple of years."

Parking behind a dumpster, he grins at me, saying, "Shall we mosy on back to the back seats now?" I go, "Definitely," surprised at how desperately I want to blow him again. For whatever reason, Billy's my favorite, but I like George more and more every day.

In the backseat, it's me, for the first time, initiating our kissing and groping, getting us into a hot make-out. I attacked him at first but then immediately let George take over the lead. That is, I think I let him take the lead because I like it better when he's doing the guy-in-charge part the way Billy always does. As I've said fifty times, I'm better at doing the girl part.

George gets one hand under the back of my polo shirt, holding me against him while he pushes and squeezes between my legs with his other hand, his tongue moving around in my mouth. That gets my dick hard as granite and me moaning with sexual arousal.

He gets me on my back and licks under my chin, then up and over my chin to my lips as I go, "Umm, George," and feel precum wetting my underpants. He starts unbuckling my cargo shorts, and I gasp, then mumble, "Please, let me suck you off." He goes, "Oh, damn, I want to do you so bad, but okay, you decide."

I knew he'd let me because he lets me do whatever I want. Sitting up together, we get his pants down. I get on my knees on the floor, leaning down to lick all around his groin. This time I make myself go slower to drag it out.

George lays back against the seat, his fingers in my goop-free hair as I concentrate on licking and then, for the first time, sucking on his balls. Sucking and humming on them the way I saw a young guy on video doing to his partner and, Omigod, my cock gets so hard it's painful.

Getting George's boner in my mouth, I suck on the head as I pull down my zipper and pull my boner free to stick straight out. In three minutes, George and I climax together, making embarrassing squealing sounds. We sounded like cats in heat.

My mouth fills up with George's cum as my cum makes a "Splat" sound hitting the front of the seat, cum spray wetting the sides of both George's legs. I drop my forehead on George's knee, gasping in oxygen even as I swallow cum that was incredibly creamy, gooey, and salty tonight. Huh, that's interesting.

George reaches down to wipe the inside of his legs with his hand, then wipes his hand on the seat, murmuring, "You never disappoint, do you, Gary?"

I shrug, and he gets his hands under my arms, helping me up. He laughs when he sees my dick bobbing around. I quickly put it away, then sit next to him, my side and the side of my ass against him. He puts his arm around my back, pulling me tighter against him as he murmurs, "It's official, I'm in love with you. Actually, I think it was one of those love at first sight kinda things."

Pulling my right leg over, I sit on his lap facing him, murmuring, "Hug me, George." He does, and I put my head on his shoulder, saying, "Don't kid around about love, okay? We aren't even officially boyfriends yet."

He mumbles, "You're right. We've only been on a few dates so far. Well, two dates, to be exact, but I love you anyhow." That is the sweetest thing I've ever heard. He's rubbing his hands on my back, then up the back of my head as he kisses the side of my neck, giving me shivers.

I need to say something, so I ask, "Well, what's it feel like to be in love?" He goes, "It's pretty much indescribable and probably different for everybody. It makes me feel the best I've ever felt. You should try it."

Lifting my head, I say, "Thank you for that." We make out, and then he just holds onto me as I sit on his lap with my arms around his neck and my face against the side of his neck like when we were on the bed this afternoon.

We have work tomorrow, so George finally asks, "Do you think we should get going pretty soon? Ya know, work and all that."

Nodding, I slide off his lap to sit next to him, "The second I fall in love, I will tell you immediately." He laughs, "I hope so, Gary, and I hope it's me you fall in love with." I say, "I think I've fallen for you, sort of, but not in love yet." He laughs again, then mumbles, "I never know when you're making a joke."

We get out of the backseat as I mutter, "I'm always serious."

He snorts out a chuckle, muttering, "Oh, sure."

On the way home, he invites me to ride with him to work and back, saying, "It's like a measly five extra minutes for me, and it'll save you needing to ride your bike." I go, "Holy shit, that would be fantastic. Are you sure you don't mind?" He says, "I like doing things for you, so, no, I don't mind."

Thinking about it for a second, I'm like, "Then we can mess around at my house after work. I mean, if you want to."

He says, "You know Goddamn well I want to, but tomorrow, every Tuesday, I have guitar lessons and then practice for a couple of hours. Wednesday, though, yes, we'll mess around. I'd love that." After an anticlimactic kiss goodnight, he drops me off at eleven-fifteen.

In bed, I don't even think about jerking off. I think about George saying he's in love with me. I thought I was in love with Billy but only for a second last week. Then I came to my senses, and maybe George will too. After saying that, I realy like our times together. Making out and sucking his dick. I can hardly believe how much I like doing that. Then I think again, how in the hell have I missed out on doing this messing around thing this long?

To be continued... donnymumford@outlook.com.

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