Jess' Story Chapter 5 From Jess' viewpoint
I was sitting on the edge of my bed reassuring myself that the dream that had jolted me awake was just a dream. I was sweating and cold and scared as I had been so many times before.
It was the same damn dream. Me and my mother. And she knew. She knew about me and Billy and Justin and all the rest of it. She might as well have been in the hot tub with the three of us as we sucked and jerked and came all over each other. She might as well have been in the room with me and my cousin when I shoved my hard cock up his tight, little. . .
I had to stop thinking about it. I felt like I might get sick at my stomach. I was afraid to move for fear the slightest motion would make me vomit. But sitting still was leaving me with nothing to do but to think about what my mother would learn about me if she ever read my story . . . the story me and my friends had written with Hardreader when I was back in high school.
I was trying to take slow, steady, deep breaths. Trying to clear my mind. Trying to focus on the real world around me. The world that . . .
That damn ring tone. It had seemed like such a good idea when I first heard it. I struggled to open my phone and hold it up to speak. To hear.
"Yeah," I muttered. All I heard was like garble. I couldn't focus enough to make out what was being said.
"Who is this?" I asked.
As I concentrated on listening, I realized it was Anne. Thank god it wasn't my mother. Relieved, I asked Anne if I could call her back in a little while.
"Sure you can, silly. But you don't have to. I just wanted to say thanks. Talk to you soon." Click. She was gone.
"Thanks?" She had said "Thanks." It took me a moment to process what she had said and what it might mean. I figured that her date last night with that guy Paul must have gone OK after all.
You're welcome, I thought. I should have told her, "You're welcome."
I continued sitting on my bed as my body and mind slowly shook off the lingering effects of my dream. Finally I got up and took a shower, brushed my teeth and pulled on some clothes. When I looked in the mirror I could see I still looked like shit. Like I was hung-over or something.
But I hadn't even had a beer the night before. Just studied and went to bed early. And had that same damn dream again.
Then I remembered I had to call Anne. I needed to put my plan . . . what little plan I had . . . into action. I'd actually thought about it a little the night before just before I went to sleep. Maybe that's what had triggered the recurrence of my dream.
I called Anne's cell. She answered on the first ring and I asked her how last night had gone. Typical of Anne, she didn't really say what had happened. As close as she came was to tell me, "With your help, I didn't need to wonder whether he was . . . you know . . . enjoying himself . . . while he was . . . you know . . . kissing me."
She went silent, forcing me to ask, "So what happened then?"
"I can't tell you, silly. But thanks to you I'm pretty sure I haven't lost him." I swear she sounded so happy I could almost see her smile over the phone. "If I can ever return the favor . . ."
"Well, as a matter of fact," I snapped at the chance, "there is one thing I was hoping you might help me figure out."
"What's that?" she wanted to know. I played coy. I told her I wanted to meet her for lunch. I had something I wanted to show her. I wanted her opinion. I'd show her at lunch. No, I couldn't tell her more than that over the phone.
She set a time and named a little restaurant right on campus. I said I'd see her there.
I had a couple of hours until our meeting and I spent it making sure that my idea from last night was really what I wanted to do. I had decided I should show her one chapter of my story, "I Thought I Knew." I'd picked Chapter 2 because that focused on me. From what I remembered, it had enough sexual content to convey the style of "I Thought I Knew." But it didn't have any actual sex scenes in it . . . other than being pretty graphic about how much I liked the taste of my own cum. And at the end there was a little about me getting off. Cumming in my mouth. Twice. But it was that kind of stuff that I needed for her to see to get her reaction.
I decided to read through it again. It had been a while since I had read that part.
As I did, I realized that it was all about how I thought I might be gay. About how I tried to deal with things when I first started to figure out I might not be just another straight guy.
All of a sudden it dawned on me that I hadn't ever told Anne I was "undeclared" sexually. Or had I? I didn't think so. But it was pretty well known. All my friends knew and so lots of her friends must know too. She must know at least that I've been out with both boys and girls. She must, I tried to reassure myself.
Well, what the hell, I thought. If she didn't know before, she will now.
I copied the chapter and stripped out anything that might identify the source. No title. No "Hardreader." Nothing to identify where it had appeared or when. I didn't want her tracking it down online and reading the whole thing. I wasn't ready for that yet.
I printed out one copy and put it in an envelope.
By then, I was surprised to discover, it was already time to head off for my lunch with Anne.
When I got to the restaurant, I saw her right away at the far end of the dining room. She raised her hand and sort of waved a little to make sure I saw her. She sure looked happy.
As I approached the table, I noticed a guy sitting across from Anne with his back to me. Even though I couldn't see much of him, I never doubted who it was. When I reached the table, Anne stood up and gave me a little hug.
"This is my friend Paul," she said gesturing toward the guy sitting across from her. Yep, it was the same guy I had seen on her laptop. The same guy I had focused on as I jacked off in her dorm room. The same guy I had watched so closely as I left her dorm the day before.
"And Paul, this is my friend Jess," she said gesturing toward me.
Paul didn't stand up. Just stuck out his hand. We shook. Normally I would have loved to have the chance to get to know Paul better. As a matter of fact, somewhere deep in my subconscious I think I was glad to see him again. To get formally introduced to him. Cuz I thought he looked like a really cool guy.
But this was not the time. I needed this time alone with Anne. I wasn't even certain I could explain what I wanted her to do with so many people around us in the restaurant. Someone might overhear. But I certainly couldn't do it with Paul sitting there.
So I was kind of relieved when Anne explained that he was finishing his lunch when she came in and he had offered her a seat. Tables weren't easy to come by and he was leaving soon.
It looked like Paul had finished eating, so I stood there for a moment thinking he would get up and leave and I'd take his chair.
This may seem kind of creepy. I can get kinda weird. But I made a point of standing over by Anne so I could get a good look at Paul's crotch when he stood up. I mean, after all I had jerked off looking at this guy's picture the day before. I thought he was pretty hot. . . . So I'm kinda creepy that way sometimes.
Then instead of getting up to go, he said, "Why don't you pull up a chair?"
It wasn't how I'd planned this, but what else could I do?
Anne started talking about nothing really. Classes. People she knew. I don't even know what. Paul kept glancing over at me. When I'd turn toward him, he'd quickly look back at Anne.
Finally Anne paused for a moment and I couldn't resist. I turned full face to Paul and looked him straight in the eye and asked, "So did you and Anne have a good time last night?"
I could swear he blushed a little. As Paul paused before answering, Anne butted in, "That's a rude question when the lady he was out with is sitting right here. Paul, you don't need to answer that." And with that, Anne kicked me under the table. It was none too subtle.
"Sorry," I said, turning to Anne and winking. The way my head was turned, Paul couldn't see me wink.
"So what did you want me to see that was so important," Anne asked with irritation in each and every word.
"Well, I really didn't want to . . ." I paused and looked over at Paul. Then in a sort of quiet, secret-like way said ". . . anyone but you to see this, if that's OK." I didn't really like saying that in front of Paul, but I didn't know what else to say just then.
Paul realized I needed some alone time with Anne and had excused himself and left within a few minutes. I never did get a good view of his crotch.
After he was gone, I decided there were just too many people sitting too close to share my story with Anne in the restaurant.
Anyway, she was kind of pissed at me by then. Probably for a couple of reason, not the least of which was driving Paul away. We went back to her dorm and I started to explain.
I asked her just to let me talk without questions. I told her that I thought all her questions would be answered when we were done. And it wouldn't take too long.
I didn't tell her about the nightmare. I just told her that when I was younger, I didn't know much about sex and stuff like that. And I wondered if I might be gay or bi or something.
"So are you . . ." she started to ask, but I cut her off. I told her she'd see all that when she read what I had brought her.
I explained that some friends of mine had met this writer and he had told us he was writing a magazine story on gay teenagers growing up in the suburbs. My friends, who I told her were gay, had already been talking to him. Telling him about their lives and stuff. And since I hung with them a lot, they wanted me to tell my story too.
"That was all a couple of years ago. But that story about me and my friends is still out there online and now I'm kinda worried what friends would think if they knew about it. If they ever found out that I had done all this stuff that in the story. If they ever read it and knew it was me. Cuz it's kinda personal. And the way the guy wrote it, some of it is pretty embarrassing," I said.
She just nodded.
"So I brought you one chapter that he wrote that's mostly about me and I wondered if you would read it and tell me what you think. What you really think. I need to figure out whether I ought to continue to keep it a secret. I can't decide what other people would think if they knew it was me in that story. I thought maybe you could read it and help me figure that out."
"What magazine was it in?" she asked. Not a question I had expected but easy enough to explain. So I told her it had been posted on one web site and then another. Thousands of people had read it and commented on it. It had become pretty popular when it was first written, I said.
She didn't look too happy about it, but said that since I had helped her out she would do it.
"Can you read it like today and let me know? It's not too long."
"I'll call you tomorrow," she said and I started to gather my things to go.
"So are you really a homosexual?" she asked. "I've never known a homosexual."
"I'm kinda nothing. I'm really undeclared. I like some girls. I like some guys. It just doesn't matter to me like it does to some people. I am attracted to people I like," I said.
"I never heard of such a thing," she said with a hint of disapproval. My stomach sank. Anne was probably not the right person to have asked to help me with this, I thought as I walked out of her room.
To Be Continued . . .
AUTHOR'S NOTE: The characters in this project are real. The names and somebother identifying information in this story have been changed to conceal the identities of the characters described. The Copyright for this story is held by Hardreader. The story may not be reprinted or distributed elsewhere in print, electronically or digitally without the permission of the author. I would love to receive comments on this story from readers. Email me at hardreader2000@aol.com
While you're waiting for the next episode, I hope you'll stay happy. And stay hard! -- H.R.