Prince of Main Street

prince of main street one

Prince of Main Street
by Andrew Simon van Ryan
Alex Hoffrin, editing
copyright 1999
all rights reserved

This book is dedicated to the memory of
Jesse Dahlinger Born September 31, 1953
Reported missing, September 31 1971
Declared legally Deceased September 31st, 1983
His Case Remains Unsolved
And
Mary Dahlinger
Loving Mother of Jesse and Andrew
This Book written at the
request of my Friend
Terrence “TJ” Julian

PREFACE

“Fuck you!!” the voice behind me said. I stopped
in the doorway, and paused slightly. Then slowly and
mechanically, I turned to face the shopkeeper’s son.
One eyebrow rose, and the edge of my mouth
turned up to form a half-smile. Looking at the boy
with my nose slightly pointing in the air, I unleashed
the Prince.
“No,... fuck you!!... You know why? Because six
months from now, this poor excuse of a business
will be gone, with you and your father with it, and I
will still be the Prince!” With that, I took one back
step out the front door. I spun around, my back now
facing the shop, and thereby severing any chance
for the boy to respond.
Sun-drenched Main Street was full of activity that
day. I looked up and down its two blocks. Most of
the old buildings were still as they had been when I
was born, for that matter, as they were when my
father was born. As I decided where to go next, I
noticed a woman with her son staring at me from
the checkout counter inside of the Main Street
Market. “Bess must be telling the newcomers about
the Prince,” I thought. Bess the cashier loved telling
new people in our little town about me. She loved to
watch the looks on their faces as she told the story.
If they seemed like non-believers, she’d warn, “It’s
the truth! You’ll see.” If they seemed the superstitious
type, she’d then say, “Of course, it’s just a rumor!” I
think she liked confusing the new folks in town. Sort
of a game.
I stepped toward the street, and instantly all the
cars stopped. I held my nose in the air, and
pretended not to notice them as I crossed the street.
As I passed people walking by, they would turn to
see where I was going. I knew it was because they
had heard the stories, and were expecting
something unusual to happen at any moment. In
truth, I loved adding to the rumors. I always
pretended something unusual was about to happen.
This day, the unusual had already occurred. The
shopkeeper and his son had come out on the
sidewalk to stare at me walking away. The boy
pointed at me, then looked up at his dad. The
shopkeeper, however, just held his hand to his brow
as a sunshade, and wondered if he really would be
out of business in six months. I decided to go wait
in my grandmother’s ‘57 Bel Air.
Up the street, and around the corner, I walked
with my nose in the air, acting as if I was walking to
my coronation. I hopped in the car and slid down in
the front seat. My grandmother soon appeared. “Hi,
Andy! Help me with the bags, Dear.” I stowed the
paper bags on the floor behind the seat, and we
were off. “What did you see today?” Grandma asked.
“Some really stupid kid and his dad.” I spluttered as
my voice returned to its normal softness with the
funny little lisp. It made me sound a bit like Sylvester
the Cat. “Andy, don’t call people stupid! You don’t
like it when you get called names!” she scolded.
Changing subjects, she continued, “I met some new
people in the market today, a Mrs. Dahlinger and
her son. The boy’s your age, Andy. Maybe you’ll meet
him at school. You might even make a new friend
this year,” she speculated. Well, I’d love to meet
somebody in this town who doesn’t either tease me
or fear me,” I said, sounding dejected. “Oh, Andy.
Not all the kids tease you, and the old-timers in town
all love seeing you.” “And scaring the newcomers
by telling them stories about me!” I interjected.
“Andy! You do just as much to keep it going as they
do! Every time we go downtown you become the
Prince.” “Well, being the Prince makes me feel good
about myself. At least it did when I was little,” I
answered quietly. “Okay, Andy. We’re home. Don’t
worry yourself, Honey. The Prince is a part of you,
and acting like him may come in handy as you get
older. You never know. Let’s get the grocery bags.”
I helped her into the house, all the time wondering
if I really had just condemned the new shopkeeper
and his son to bankruptcy in six month’s time! So
much had changed in the eighteen months since I
had become a teenager!

Chapter 1

I was born on Easter Sunday, 1953, the third and

last child to a couple who married and stayed

together until death. That made for an unusual

upbringing, even in the conservative hell-hole of

Orange County, California. It seemed, as I grew up,

that none of my classmates had both parents at

home. This was particularly true as the ‘50’s ended

and the ‘60’s took over.

Yorba Linda’s claim to fame lay in the fact that

President Richard Nixon was born there, and is now

buried there alongside the little house he grew up

in. When I was a little boy, Nixon’s house was where

the caretaker for the Yorba Linda Elementary School

lived. The school itself surrounded the Nixon’s old

house, and took up most of the old lemon grove

Richard’s parents had owned. Today, it’s the grounds

of the Nixon Library. So, where Nixon was born, I

entered school. I was a hyperactive child, although

in those days they just called you unruly, or as they

did with me, absentminded. I didn’t do well with the

other children in my class. I realize now they

perceived I was somehow different, even at that

early age. I was not completely shunned, more like

I was tolerated up to a point. If that point was

reached, and I started to act as though I thought

another student was becoming my friend, I was

quickly shown the others were only interested at a

distance. I started disliking school right from the

beginning. I disliked it so much that I learned to fake

every ailment known to mankind.

After my mother caught on to that trick, (and it

never took her long to catch on to anything), I started

begging to be sent to private school. I didn’t know

why I wanted to go to a private boarding school,

except for the fact that I believed they must be for

“different” children. I was different, and so to me it

made sense I should be with other like-children.

Private school, it turned out, was out of reach for

my family during those years. It was a time when

the rural country atmosphere of Yorba Linda was

being ripped up, torn out and paved over by the

suburbanization of the late fifties and early sixties.

Just as the sixties were turbulent for the country,

the sixties were a turbulent time for my family. Twice

we almost lost the home my father had built by

himself, on property that had been in the family for

over 90 years. Taxes had made being an orange

rancher no longer profitable. I remember when, at

the age of eleven, my father brought home a small

Caterpillar tractor, and taught me to drive it. He’d

been letting me drive our truck on the ranch since I

was ten, so it took about five minutes for me to get

the hang of it. Then he said to me, “Andy, the orange

trees have to go. I want you to start tearing them

out, and piling them in the middle of the ranch. We’ll

burn them there.”

The thought of a massive bonfire made the tearing

out of the trees seem not such a bad thing, as I, like

all children, loved a bonfire. However once the

orange trees had been burned to ash and buried,

the emptiness of the land made for a very stark,

lonely look to our former ranch. Now, we lived in an

old house with a field around it. That’s the reality of

it. I felt during this time there came the turning point

for me as well. It was that same summer I

experienced the pinnacle of human life on a hot

and dry afternoon. My grandmother’s house was

on the far east end of the ranch. It was a very small,

but practical home my father had built with his own

hands as a gift for his parents.

Mother had called up to Grandmum’s, telling me

it was getting close to dinner and I should come

home. I left my grandmother’s, and started skipping

and spinning around as I walked down the middle

of our street. Since it was hot that day, I was wearing

only a pair of short cut-off jeans. The eucalyptus

trees, that served as a windbreak for the grove, were

moving in the dry wind, and my shadow danced

with theirs across the asphalt road behind me. I

was about half-way when suddenly a thought

stopped me dead in my tracks. What day was it?

What was time? l knew it must be late afternoon by

the way my shadow lay stretched out behind me,

but how late? Why, I didn’t even know what month it

was! The thought that brought me to this was that

school would be starting soon. I was suddenly aware

I didn’t have any idea when my school would start

again because I didn’t know what time it was, what

day it was, what day of the month it was, and I had

even forgotten what year it was! That moment I felt

something I describe as being suspended in the

space between reality and pure fantasy. For that

brief moment I achieved what mankind desires

most, I escaped time itself and touched infinity. Time

had no hold on me for that moment. I felt completely

and totally free. I didn’t care about not knowing the

time, the day, the date, the month, or the year! These

lost their grip on me, and I felt more euphoric and

my spirits were higher than I ever would again.

Simply put, I experienced Nirvana.

That was the turning point. During the following

school year, I first felt what became the secret

direction of my life, the one thing that I never let my

parents, siblings or friends know. It has made me

feel lost in crowds and alone at parties. At times,

I’ve grown emotionally frozen and unable to say how

or what I was feeling to anyone. It still dominates

my life even today. And that was the year I noticed

boys .

Not that I hadn’t noticed them before, but now I

started to notice them for the way they looked, talked

and acted. I started to daydream about them, being

with them. I began having dreams at night about

them, too. I found myself becoming attracted to

them, wanting to hold them and kiss them. I became

sexually excited, thinking about them. I was a cute

boy and I wanted to be with a cute boy. I had

discovered I was a homosexual, though I didn’t learn

this word for almost two more years! When I heard

it first, my father was saying something about

homosexuals, and how he hated them.

“What’s a homosexual?” I asked with an innocent

air. Glaring at me with a surprised, shocked

expression, he answered, “A guy who likes other

guys, Andy. They should all be shot.” I knew at that

moment I could never discuss how I felt with my

family. My father had spoken and I was afraid. Very

afraid and very, very alone! I learned to hold my

feelings in. That is how my life began.

Then came 1967 and my life would never again

be as it had been. I was starting the ninth grade

that year. The first weeks were as uneventful and

boring as the previous school year had been. If it

weren’t for the fact the school itself was brand-new

that year, those first few weeks of High School would

just be lost memories. Having had to navigate water

rivulets between the newly planted grass areas, and

dodge mud holes left by construction crews, I am

left with very clear impressions of those days. The

other clear impression I have is of my Boy Scout

Troop. We met at the new school on Monday

evenings. Ours was a troop started by kids who

didn’t want to join the ranks of the town’s original

troop (the one my dad and brother had been with).

The Old Rank and Guard had become a very

egocentric, snobbish, little group. They had earned

a reputation of treating new boys as “unworthy

slaves” until they could prove themselves to the older

boys. I never hung around anyone who would treat

me as lower class, even from the first days of preschool.

I wanted nothing to do with my brother and

father’s old troop. I became a founding member of

my troop, and we were regarded as “wild boys” by

all of the other troops in the North County Area. A

few weeks into the new school year, it happened.

Noticing a boy walking in late to a troop meeting, I

became aware of a strange feeling taking hold of

me. An exciting feeling. Jesse was only 5’ 4” and

very slender. His long dark hair accented his glowing

kelly-green eyes which flashed and sparkled as

might a devil’s. He sat next to me his first day of

Scouts. We were immediately inseparable best

friends starting that first night. I learned later that

he shared my strange feelings. He confessed the

reason he sat next to me at the meeting was that

he had a “feeling of being drawn toward me, towards

something exciting.”

We had much in common. Both of us were shy

and were talented musicians. I was learning the

drums, and Jesse was studying guitar. We each

noticed the funny, giggly pleasure that being

together produced in each of us. We’d spend hours

at his house after school. Swimming in the pool or

sometimes lying on the floor, we’d talk and giggle

about everything we could think of, then we’d

practice new songs for hours. Since he lived with

only his Mom, and she didn’t get home during the

week until 8:00 PM. Jesse and I took the opportunity

to do just exactly what we wanted to. No parents

around meant freedom. His mother helped us move

my drum set over to their garage, thus making it

convenient for us to practice our music. When we

went swimming in the afternoons we’d run towards

the pool, strip off our clothes and jump in, naked to

the world. Only the world couldn’t see us ‘cause

Jesse’s house was set way off by itself, and

surrounded by an orange grove. My family’s house

was sort of the same way except I had a brother, a

sister, a mother and a father that were always home.

So Jesse’s house became our territory. We started

to experiment with alcohol on nights I stayed over,

drinking from their liquor cabinet. His mother

seemed the “young, hip” sort. She told her son if he

wanted to try drinking or drugs to do so at home. It

would be okay with her. She’d never blink an eye

when the liquor bottles were empty. She’d simply

make a note to pick up more the next shopping day!

And that is how it began. Jesse and I had noticed

we were staring at each other and often. The first

one to catch the other doing so would snap, “What?”

This would make the other one giggle. We’d also

begun to lie in the sun after swimming each day,

both of us naked and as close as possible without

touching each other. I didn’t realize what was

happening to us. Quite happy being together under

no one else’s rules we were, to paraphrase the title

of a popular TV series of the day, the young and

the useless. Yep, that’s what we were!

The weekends I soon began spending at Jesse’s.

His mom worked “on call” nights, plus the day shift

at the hospital each weekend. She didn’t want Jesse

being home alone, so she made an arrangement

with my folks. I came from school with Jesse on

Friday afternoons, and stayed until she drove me

home after our Boy Scout meetings on Monday

nights. The hospital she worked at was way down

in Long Beach, so she stayed at a doctor’s house

nearby each weekend. “Screwing!” Jesse would say,

and then giggle. She told us if she ever planned

being home before Monday afternoon, there would

be a note in the kitchen. This occurred only once I

think. So, from thereafter, Jesse and I were the

Princes of the Kingdom from 3:00 PM Friday until

7:00 PM Monday!

Fridays we’d come through the front door with a

slam! Bang! By the time we went out the back door

to the pool, we’d be completely naked. An hour in

the pool, and it was time to raid the liquor cabinet

and eat some dinner. By 6:00 PM we were drunk,

naked, and laughing, with nothing but the weekend

night ahead of us. Sometimes we’d watch TV and

sometimes we’d practice music. What then

transpired happened, as I recall, during the second

month I stayed at Jesse’s. We had drunk way too

much before dinner, and were laying intoxicated on

the living room floor watching a typical late 1960’s

TV show. We were still naked from swimming. It

was almost autumn. Suddenly Jesse got the shivers,

and said, “I’m cold!” That said, he slid his small

smooth body up against mine. Feeling the chill of

the evening air as well, I simply snuggled up against

him. There was a blanket Mary kept on the arm of

the sofa, which Jesse grabbed, and threw over us.

We lay there silent for few minutes still looking at

the TV. Then I noticed he was staring at me. “What?!”

I said. This time he only smiled. We each stared

into the other’s eyes for what seemed forever. Then

I couldn’t stand it anymore. I put my arm around

him, and slowly leaned in to kiss him. Our lips met,

and his eyes closed. I pressed my mouth tightly to

his, and we fell back on the carpet, intertwined in

each other’s arms. We were locked in a kiss that

must have lasted five minutes straight. When he

opened his eyes, and gazed at me, he sighed, “Wow,

that was great! Do you love me?” I was shocked,

yet I answered softly after a slight pause, “Yes,

Jesse. I think I do.” “Good!” he exclaimed. “Because

I’ve been in love with you for a long time now. I just

wasn’t sure what I should do or say about it.” “Well!”

I said giggling, “you can start by kissing me some

more!”

We lay there on the floor, alternately staring into

one another eyes, then kissing and caressing each

other. I was becoming very aware of Jesse’s

hardened cock pressing against me. My own

stiffening shaft pressed and rubbed against his

smooth body. This sensation was something new

to both of us. As young boys will do, we had both

experimented with the typical “jack off” parties where

there were other boys stroking their cocks, but to

be intertwined in a kiss with full body contact was

heavenly! The awareness of his hard cock was

overwhelming me. Jess must have felt a similar

impulse, for at virtually the same instant our hands

clasped the other’s hard-on. We looked at each

other, and he let out a long, soft sigh, saying, “Oh,

Andy! I’ve wanted to do this with you for so long...”

“Oh, really? And how long were you going to wait

before telling me?” I replied with a grin. “Until I was

sure you wanted me to,” was his answer.” “Well, I

want you, too!” I said before kissing him again. He

responded by starting to stroke my cock, very gently.

I didn’t need any words of encouragement. I

returned the motion, feeling him squirm with excited

pleasure. We were each experiencing the pleasure

of our “first love.” I wanted him madly, and he lusted

after me just as deeply. He was jacking my hardened

cock, now, and I was breathing in deeply. I started

to tongue his ear, which I could tell made him crazy.

His cock in my hand seemed hard as steel, yet with

a velvet silkiness as well. He was licking down

across my neck to my chest, and as he reached my

nipple, his tongue started circling it. That was it! I

wanted his cock, and I wanted it now! In one quick

movement, I turned my head and body to reach

him. Although I’m sure that’s what he was heading

for as he inched down my neck with his tongue, my

hard cock now confronted him.

Without hesitation, his lips surrounded my rod, and

he began to suck me in and out of his mouth. I took

his cock into my mouth, and was surprised by the

taste of his pre-cum. I guess I had never thought

about it before, but the way he tasted was sweet,

and at the same time salty. I found it likable, and he

must have felt a similar way, for glistening pearl

adorned my plum from the moment we first kissed.

Our passion was increasing, and I began to stroke

up and down with my hand as well as my lips on his

teen-aged shaft. He was shoving his mouth down

the full length of my cock now, and I could feel my

orgasm beginning down at the tips of my toes. As I

felt it run up the backs of my legs, his back began

to arch up. As the first explosion of my orgasm hit, I

felt him tense, then explode. We arrived at orgasm

together, and I pumped hot cum into his mouth as

his young cock shot great spurts into mine. It

seemed as if my orgasm was never going to stop!

I was suddenly transported back to that hot

summer afternoon when I had felt myself suspended

outside of the bonds of time. The moment hung

there, frozen. He was still cumming, and he filled

my mouth. I was swallowing every drop of it, loving

the taste of his boy juice. The moment shifted back

into real time as I shot a last, powerful wad into his

sweet, young mouth. I could feel his orgasm starting

to subside as well. I sucked for every drop of him,

and he returned the favor, sucking the final drops

of my issue into his mouth, and swallowing each.

As we fell back off each other, he shifted his

position so that we were head to head again. “Oh,

Andy! I love you so much!” He said. I kissed him

deeply, and told him, “You’ve stolen my heart, Jesse.

I love you, too.” We lay there holding each other as

lovers. I think both of us knew we had found the

love of our lives, the special someone with whom

we were meant to be. We made love again three

more times that night before falling asleep in a

tangled heap. A joyful, dreamless, sleep finally fell

over us.

The sky was just beginning to show the onset of

dawn when I was awakened by Jesse shaking me.

“It’s too damn cold out here on the floor. C’mon,

Andy. Let’s go get into bed!” With that, he grabbed

my arm, and tugged me to my feet. Jess led me

down the hall by the hand. I was for all intents and

purposes, still asleep. A walking boy zombie, I only

half-noticed when he opened the door to his mom’s

room instead of his own. He led me around to the

far side, and we crawled into the king-sized bed,

wiggling down under the blankets. Within moments

we were both fast asleep again, happily wrapped

around each other.

We were still in this position when I woke up a few

hours later. Jesse was looking at me when my eyes

opened, waiting for me to be aware of his intentions,

even though no words were exchanged. He wanted

me, and I wanted him. His mouth came down firm

on my lips, and we rolled about on the bed. I could

feel his cock was already hard, just like mine. It

wasn’t long before we were again locked in a sixtynine

position, sucking at each other with a passion.

I wanted his cum in my mouth as soon as possible

and sucked and pumped him with my mouth. He

likewise pumped his sweet little mouth harder and

faster on my cock. I would cum for him soon. As I

started to explode in his mouth, he returned the

favor by filling my mouth with so much of his boy

juice that I almost had to let it spew out. The night

before however, I had developed a taste for his cum.

I wanted to swallow all that he could shoot. He

obviously wasn’t about to let a drop of mine escape

from his mouth. While I came, he sucked harder

and harder, milking the hot sperm from deep in my

balls. Then again, I felt time freeze. Then, shifting

back to reality, I came in his lovely, boy mouth.

“Oh, God that was great!” I said, falling back on

the bed. Jess turned to face me. “I love having you

cum in my mouth. I want to suck you off every day

for the rest of your life! I really love you Andy, you

know?” he said, looking into my eyes. “I know, Jess!

I love you, too, you sex fiend!” came my reply, as I

rolled over on top of him, and began kissing him. I

shoved my tongue into his mouth. He responded

like a wild animal. He was all over me. Suddenly,

we found ourselves falling off the edge of the bed,

head first onto the floor! We broke into gales of

laughter, falling into a crumpled heap thrashing

about on the floor between the bed and the wall. It

took quite a bit of effort to extract ourselves. After

we had, Jesse said, “Lets make breakfast! I’m

hungry.” “Make breakfast,... what?” came my reply.

“Smart Ass!” Jesse shot back. For the first time since

we arrived home on Friday afternoon, we put our

clothes on. We’d discovered weeks earlier, cooking

eggs while naked results in grease burns in the most

uncomfortable places! I pulled a baggy sweatshirt

on, and put on my Levis. Jesse came out of the

bathroom dressed identically! Laughter once again!

“I swear we’re like twin brothers of different mothers!”

I said as I smacked him on the ass. “Seems like it,...

huh? I wonder if twins suck each other off?” Jesse

mused as we walked to the kitchen.

“You know we’re going to have to keep quiet about

this. My dad would murder me if he found out I was

a fag. Really! So only us two know, okay?” The

tone of my voice was thoughtful. “Okay. You, me and

my mom.” Jesse said, opening the refrigerator. He

had his back to me as I stared. What did he just

say? My mind raced in terror. I continued staring at

him for a few seconds, eyes unblinking. The thoughts

in my head were shifting into high gear, but I found

my mouth was stuck in low. I tried to scream, “What

did you say?!” All that came out was a dull,

“Whaaa...” “Just you and me and my mom,” he said

again, calm as ever. “She already knows anyway.”

He turned, and saw my panicked look.” Andy, she’s

known about us from the first time she saw us

together.” I was in total silence still trying to say

anything, but I couldn’t. I finally managed to squeak,

“We’re dead!”

“No, we’re not, shithead! Mom thinks it’s okay. She

said we need to be the way we are, and not try to fit

into something we’re not. Why do you think she

made the arrangements with your parents so you

could stay with me on weekends?” “Ooh...ah,

okay?.. Eh,... uh. I...” came from my lips. Now I was

completely unable to think or speak. I stuttered on,

saying, “Sh..., Sh..., she di..., didn’t tell my F..., Folks

that w...,we’re q..., queers, d..., di..., did she?” Jesse

found this incredibly funny, and grabbed his sides

while laughing hysterically. “What? No way, Andy!

You think she wants us getting our asses kicked?

No way! She figured us out then asked me if I had

feelings for you. I told her “yes.” She told me she

could tell that you were attracted to me, too. Mom

and I talked about it for quite a while. She decided

we should be together, and without anyone else

finding out. I guess my uncle’s a homo, so she’s

kind’a used to it. It’s okay with mom if you and I are,

too.”

“Oh, shit!! We’re fags! What are we going to do?!”

I became frantic at my sudden revelation. “My dad

is going to kill us! Really!!! He hates fags! We’re

gonna die!” More laughter from Jesse. I started

running back and forth in the kitchen as my words

came spitting out. I must have been looking like a

trapped rabbit. “Sit down!” said Jess. “We are not in

trouble! Mom thinks it’s cool that we love each other.

She wants to protect us! She didn’t say anything to

your parents, other than she likes you, and trusted

you staying with me on the weekends. That way, I

wouldn’t be alone. Besides, your dad likes you

staying here ‘cause your schoolwork has improved,

and he doesn’t have to deal with you being hyperboy

all the time. So, no one’s gonna kill us.” “Really?!

She thinks it’s cool?...but,... how did she know we’re

fags if we’ve never done anything before? Does it

show?” The questions came from my mouth in rapid

fire.

“Well,... see,... since my Uncle Leo is gay,... ya’

see, that’s what homos call it, “being gay...” Anyway,

since he’s gay, she’s grown up around it. Remember

that first day you came home with me? After we

took you home, well, Mom said she could tell we

were both gay, and that we just didn’t quite know it

yet. Actually, she said that “we were falling in love

with each other,” and didn’t quite know it yet. I guess

my uncle went through a lot of bad stuff as a

teenager, getting beat up, and shit like that. She

wants us to be happy, and love each other without

your parents finding out and killing us, or getting

beaten up by fag haters. Any kind of shit like that.

Andy, you’re not afraid of being in love with me are

you?” Jesse asked looking directly into my eyes.

“Afraid of… being in love with you?... No, I guess

not,” I replied, speaking softly. “I’m just afraid of

what would happen if my dad found out. He would

be totally flipped out. I guess I’m just nervous about

him kicking our butts.”

“Well, he’s not going to find out about us! Mom

wouldn’t tell him. She loves us being happy. I’m sure

not going to tell him, so unless you tell him, he’s not

going to know. I mean, you’re not planning on telling

him, ‘Hey, Dad! Guess what? Jesse and I sucked

each other’s cocks all weekend!’ are you?” Hearing

that, I started to giggle again. “That’s better! I thought

you were going to pass out a couple minutes ago,

you were hyperventilating so badly! Now will you

please sit down?” Jesse said with a smile.

We finally got around to eating breakfast, as the

conversation continued. “So, how come your mom

didn’t flip out about you wanting to be with me?”

came my question. “Like I said, her brother, my

Uncle Leo, is gay. She said that she knew I was

gay since I was ten. That’s what I don’t get. How’d

she know back then? Andy, do I act gay?” Jesse

inquired. “You mean do you act like a fag? I don’t

think so. Why, do I?” I replied quizzically. “Yes!” he

said. “What?!” I cried out. “I do?!”

“Yeah, you do. When you suck my cock!” Jesse

said, starting to giggle. “Oh, you dick! I thought

you were serious! You love it when I suck your cock!”

I retorted. “I sure do! And I know you love it when I

suck your cock...” Jesse stopped mid sentence. He

had turned around to see my eyes starting to tear

up the room. “Andy! What’s wrong?” he said. “I…

I’m a fag!” As the words left my mouth, I really started

to cry. “Huh? What did you say?... You’re a fag? Is

that what you said?” I just nodded my head. I couldn’t

talk, and I was sobbing hard. Jesse ran to where I

was on the sofa, and sat down next to me. He

slipped his arm around my shoulder, and said, softly,

“Andy, please stop saying, “fag.” We’re not fags.

We’re gay. Gay means happy, you know? C’mon.

Look at me. Don’t cry, Andy. I love you!” He made

me feel a bit better, and I started to compose myself.

“Why are you crying, anyway? Does being together

make you upset? Is that it?” asked Jess. “No.” I

croaked. “It’s my father. My father hates fags! I guess

that’s why he hates me.” “Oh, Andy! Don’t worry

about that. We have each other now, you’ll see.

Everything will work out okay for us. Besides, your

dad doesn’t know about us. He doesn’t hate you”

“Well, if he ever did know, I’m sure he would hate

me. You too.” Jesse pulled me closer to him. I laid

my head over on his shoulder, still crying softly. We

sat on the sofa awhile, Jesse cradling me in his

arms, while I sniffled and whimpered. Finally, my

tears and sniffles dried up. I turned to look at him,

staring straight into his green eyes. “Jesse, I love

you. I want to stay here with you. I mean always. I

don’t ever want you to leave me.” “I know, Andy,” he

said. “I don’t ever want you to leave me, so promise,

okay?” “I promise, Jesse. I won’t ever leave you.

Even if we’re found out, I won’t leave,” I said staring

into those dancing eyes of his. “I love you, too, Andy.

I won’t ever leave you, either, I promise,” said Jesse,

and he kissed me.

We stayed on the sofa, and Jesse rocked me in

his arms for a very long time. I felt a sense of

belonging as he held me there. In time, I broke the

silence. “Jesse?” “Yes, Andy?” “Can we go back to

bed?” Jesse smiled at me. “Sure. We can spend

the whole day in bed, if you want to.” With that, we

got up, and walked hand in hand down the hall to

the bedroom. He pulled off my Levis. I pulled his

sweatshirt up over his head, and then I pulled my

sweatshirt off. He stood up and dropped this pants

in a heap on the floor. As we slid under the covers,

Jesse said, “ Are you feeling okay, now?” “Yeah,” I

replied. “This explains something, too”

“What’s that?” he said, looking puzzled. “Well, I’ve

never thought of it before, but with other guys, they

always want to talk about girls. We never have, at

least I don’t think we have,” came my reply. “I guess

that’s because all I ever think about is you,” Jesse

giggled. “Does that mean you’re my girlfriend?” I

said, giggling, too. “Only if you like girls with cocks!”

he said. We both laughed out loud now. It was good

to be laughing again. My worries soon slipped away,

and Jesse was so sweet to me, I forgot all about

my dad, and what could happen to us if he found

out.

Within fifteen minutes, I had recovered from crying,

and we were back to making love. Again and again,

long into the afternoon we sucked each other to

orgasm. I rewarded him with my hot, young cum,

and he returned the favor with his wonderful boy

juice. As the day waned and our energies were

sapped by our love-making, we wrapped around

each other again, and fell asleep.