DISCLAIMER: This story contains depictions of homosexual contact between underage males. Read at your own risk, and do not read at all if it is illegal in your city, state, or province. All characters depicted are fictional, and any resemblance to real persons can be attributed to chance.
I'll admit it. What initially drew my eye to the incredibly sexy Chance Owens was his good looks. What made me like him was his blatant sexual advance (on an airplane, by the way.) What made me like him even more was the mind-numbingly good sex we'd had. Twice. Top and bottom. (Lucky me, huh?)
What made me fall in love with Chance Owens, you ask?
I don't know, to be entirely honest. Maybe its his eyes. They're a burning green, and lit with emerald fire, the one that comes only from intense emotion. Or the tired expression that he wears rarely, like he's ran into some brick walls sometimes in his life. Or the unlimited happiness I feel when I'm beside him. Or the sweet innocence he has when he's deep in sleep breathing softly. Maybe it's all of these things. Maybe it's none of them. Either way... I'm madly in love with him. It's crazy. It's unreal.
It's one o'clock in the morning, and we're laying on the ground beside my car, staring up at the stars. He's resting his head on his arms, and I'm resting my head on his chest. I can hear his heart beating very softly, and I can hear him inhaling and exhaling the smell of the night air, and the smell of me. Right now, we're at the point where we don't need to talk. His warmth and his smile and his hand in my hair are whispering a silent litany: "I love you I love you I love you I love you." My soft purr of pleasure and my hand on his chest and all of my being reply in kind: "I love you I love you I love you I love you..." We look up to the sky, under the twinkling half globe of stars and planets, in reverence of how they've aligned tonight. I could go all the way up there and still fall short of the heights I'm feeling now. I turn to face him, and our eyes meet, and I see joy in his eyes. I kiss him. He kisses me back, and he presses himself against me, mingling his warmth and my warmth and making our freshly showered skin break out in a light sweat. I feel that same need, that desperate longing that I felt in our first kiss. Only now I knew it wasn't simply lust, but a desire of the mind body and soul for someone to love and be loved by. I kissed him back with that same need, and my heartbeat rapidly accelerated. We were blissfully ignorant of the dull pain of laying on the gravel.After an eternity in heaven, we broke. We lay gasping and euphoric, and The breeze stops over the parking lot for a moment to carry us into sleep, in each other's arms.
The morning after, we felt mischievous. After we checked out, My boyfriend and I practically paraded into the lobby, with my arm around his waist. When we made it into the view of the prim grey-haired woman behind the counter (who, after learning that we had spent the night in the parking lot, already had us down as crazy), I whispered sweet nothings into Chance's ear, to which he winked conspiratorially and then smooched me. I groaned with pleasure and gave him some tongue. I peeked a look, and the woman looked absolutely scandalized, her eyes open in shock. To seal the deal, I grabbed his crotch and told him, "Let's go do it now." He nodded, giggling like a schoolboy, then took my be the arm and strutted to the car with me in tow. When the squeal of "Well I never!" reached our ears, we threw back our heads and laughed. I think we started her day off just right.
Chance and I made our way back to civilization merrily. Top down, sun shining, hair blowing in the wind, and wailing along to melancholy country songs. We stopped for breakfast at a restaurant (where we animatedly played poker, much to our waitress's amusement) and then stopped at a car wash (where we "accidentally" got each other soaking wet)and then the park, to let our clothes dry (where we "accidentally" made out in a low branch of a tree and then accidentally fell out.)
With the morning hours gone, I thought about where Chance was staying. He rifled through some papers in his bag, and came up with an address. I almost crashed the car, for as soon as he read it, I snatched the paper from him, and stared at it in disbelief. His home was a nice house, one that had just been built no more than five houses down from mine. I would have said it was too good to be true, but I'm surprised less and less by happenings of late. Staring up into his concerned face with pure elation, I yelp, "Chance! Your house is close to mine! You'll go to the same school! Can you believe that?" He flashed me a Hollywood-grade grin. "Nope... that's pretty cool." I could see he was both saddened by the mention of home and happy that home was close to me. Something was really troubling my boyfriend. Which meant that something was troubling me, too. I knew he'd talk about it when he was ready. I put an arm around him to reassure him. "You know I'm there for you, right?"
We rounded the turn to our street, and I slowed down, knowing that watchful parents would report speeding cars in the neighborhood. I pointed out my house to him as we passed it, saying "Plan on spending a lot of time there," with only a trace of innuendo. I stopped in front of the new house, which matched the picture Chance had. Gave me a grim smile, and looked directly in my eyes (I hadn't realized what kind of connection that makes with people) and said, "Thanks Ian. For everything. And... I love you." Before I could finish saying "I love you too," we were locked in a goodbye kiss. By now, his lips, his touch, were so familiar. He got out the car, hefted his bags, and walked up the front steps like a man condemned. I had a feeling it wouldn't be wise to stay around.
I quickly turned the car and pulled into our driveway. >From the front door, I could smell the unmistakable aroma of chocolate. I opened the door and was bathed in the haze of cocoa. My footsteps were drowned out by the whir of a mixer, and I trance-walked into the kitchen. There were no less than ten different chocolate creations in various stages of completion, and my mother was bent over a bowl of cake batter, intent on increasing that number. My mom was 45, and was the source of my dark hair and blue eyes. As mothers go, I thought she was fairly attractive which mattered little to my father. After learning of his various infidelities, they reasonably got a divorce. She got enough money to start her cake business, he got the car, the house was sold, the money put in a trust fund for me. Sometimes it helped to have a father around, but their divorce wasn't nearly as dreadful as they can be. I lived with her, but visited him whenever the whim took us. Our life was comfortable and business was good. Best of all, my mother seemed to know I was gay, although I've never come out to her. She was okay with it totally, although she did miss being able to embarrass me by pointing out guys she'd like to sleep with. I loved her. I loved her dark chocolate cookies, too, a large pan of which sat on the counter, cooling. Still undetected, I reached for one. "They're five bucks a dozen, kid. I don't sell individuals, though." Darn. Foiled again. My mother turned off the mixer to give me a hug and kiss on the cheek. "Hi Mom." "How was the trip? How was your father?" "The trip was great. Dad was... well, Dad." "Tell me about it. Who was the boy?" "Which boy?" "The one in the car with you. Lives down the street?" Huh? She had been looking out the window until she knew I was coming. Mothers. "I gave him a ride home from the airport. Met him on the plane." "Good thing I already know where he lives. Wouldn't care to go to jail for stalking him for a date." She never hid the fact that she was still searching for Mr. Right, but she kept it humorous. "Mom, isn't he a little young? And besides... he's-" "You're only as young as you feel Ian. And besides he's what?" "..." "Well, spit it out, before my heart breaks." I flashed her a half sly, half embarrassed grin. "He's mine." "Wow... what a catch." "Heh, I know." "Next time bring me back one too." "Sure mom." "Order out for lunch. I'm too busy cooking to cook." And at that, she turned back to the food of the gods she was preparing. "I've got to have this chocolate showcase frosted and ready to go by five. Oh, and I made one extra. Help yourself." Mmmmm. Cookie. I grabbed it, and headed towards my room. I ate it and lay down in my bed, not bothering to change clothes or even turn the light on. After a trip like that (and a night spent awake at a hotel...)I knew I'd be out for a while. Man, what a perfect end to a perfect day.
- * * * I think that was a nice change of pace. Comments, criticism, suggestions, write me a poem, send me a flower, whatever---> inlwtx@yahoo.com I hope you like!