Ronnie (Chapter 8)
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction depicting teenage males in romantic and/or sexual positions and activity. The people depicted in this story may or may not really exist (many characters may have distant ties to the memories of my past).
If you are under 18 years of age (or whatever the legal age in your area is) you must leave. If you find this material offensive, you should not be reading this story. If you choose to continue . . . you have been warned, and I trust you to make your own wise choices.
Authors Note: Several of you have written and have been most encouraging and I appreciate all your support. I want to tell you of a rewarding matter I have experienced since embarking on this journey. There is one young man (who's name we'll keep confidential) who wrote me early in the story and was seriously close to ending his life. Fortunately, we began a dialogue and he promised to take one day at a time with me - now he has found some renewed hope and local support and has been pulled away from the precipice! I take no credit, but I am so thankful for this forum and this opportunity that Nifty has provided to be a source of hope and help. Sure, there are plenty of gratuitous sex stories here, and a certain element of questionable characters - but all told, when I was going through my own experiences, my world was so limited for help and resources. Ten years ago even, perhaps this wonderful boy might have had a different outcome. Thanks Nifty!!
Also, I want to dedicate this chapter to a couple of special friends I have made during the work on this project. Sam, a delightful young man in mid-America, has just gone through a significant milestone in his life - fraught with incredibly difficult circumstances - congratulations for your strength and determination. These traits along with your courage will help you with victory after victory!
Then, there is a new friend in Australia who has been like a breath of fresh air. Thanks my friend for being you! You are a remarkable and special person. I have never known anyone so brave as you, and your boyfriend is a very lucky person indeed!
I welcome any and all comments to the story, or for anyone who just wants a friend to talk with. Please feel free to contact me at boyzheart@hotmail.com with any comments or suggestions.
Previously . . .
Before they left, Nellie came over to me and hugged me. "Thanks for sharing," he whispered, "I won't forget you loved him first." They made their way to the door and said they would come back later for dinner and wake my ass up if I was still asleep.
That left Ronnie and I all alone, really alone - privately alone for the first time since that rainy Monday so long ago. My oh my, what ever will we do . . .
Chapter 8
Quiet enveloped the room after the door shut. The room I shared with Mike all these years was actually quite small, as was the entire house. There was only one window to let in fresh air and outside light. No one had turned on the bedroom light and the result of the closed door was dramatic despite the window light filtering in past the blinds. Combine the small quarters and the diminished light with the sexual energy coming from Ronnie and I; and the results were eerie. I could literally feel Ronnie glide across the floor and then settle on the twin bed beside me. Neither of us spoke, yet I knew just what he was doing. I shifted slightly to make room and lay fully down on my back closing my eyes and allowing my mind to capture all the happenings around me. Ronnie rolled on top of me and gently nestled down into his favorite position at my side, half on, half off of my chest. His leg and knee drawn up in a fetal type position across my groin and his arm draped over my chest. His fingers began gently caressing my bruises as by now he had memorized the location of each. Ever so tenderly he planted feathery kisses on my neck and shoulders, then moved down to my chest.
He shifted again allowing himself access to me with both hands and yet maintaining maximum body contact. Ever so gingerly the tail of my tee shirt began to work its way up my chest, and without any real conscious knowledge it was freed from my body and discarded on the floor beside the bed, though I do not remember his lips ever leaving my body long enough or far enough away for the shirt to be taken off.
Now he worked his way to be fully on top of me with his legs between mine. He was tenderly worshiping every contour of my body and kissing every inch. My nipples were the target of his hungry lips as he suckled on first one then the other causing them to stand up straight into the air. (Growing up in rural Texas I had heard all my life the phrase 'worthless as tits on a bore hog!' Now I understood that God wasn't suffering from dementia when he created men with tits!). The eroticism of his hot mouth as he sucked and pulled gently with his teeth then the sudden coldness of the air as he changed sides was fantastic. I never before knew the sensations of being loved like this.
My eyes were shut tight and I was seeing stars and spots behind the darkness of my eyelids. I had a fist full of the bed linens in each hand and my head was arched back in blissful pleasure. As much as I could, with his weight on me - and the soreness of my body, I was tossing back and forth under the sensual assault. I couldn't tell if the moans were from Ronnie or me.
I could feel the upward assent of his lips on my neck directly beneath my chin. Warm sensual kisses bathed the hollow spot beneath my Adam's apple. He licked straight up my neck to my chin and slowly sucked as much of that into his mouth as he could, (It's remarkable how much would fit!) but not hard enough to leave a mark.
My ears were next, first the right, then the left. (Do you know how sexually exciting it is for someone to suck your earlobe and breath in your ear at the same time?! Wow! I was out of my mind with ecstasy.) Finally I could stand it no more and I forced his lips to mine and we were lost in a sea of passion. His mouth was so tender and hot. It was sweet and powerful. His lips nibbled hungrily at mine and then found my tongue and he sucked it deep into his face. I craved more of his sweetness, but he pulled up for air.
We were still silent, yet the gleam and sparkle in his eyes loudly broadcast his thoughts. It was as if a symphony had found its way into his soul and was pouring out of these brilliant sea-blue wells. I saw love. Pure love. . . unadulterated, powerful, beautiful love; Ronnie was in love with me - me!
How could such a beautiful being care for someone like me - Mr. Average? What could those dazzling blue eyes see in me besides an average teenager who was confused and alone. I continually have entire days when I hate myself and know everyone in the world knows all about me and how messed up I am. Why, how . . . how is it possible that this is really me . . . that HE is really here in my arms . . . looking at me like that? I couldn't begin to rationalize it - but I knew I wanted to hold him forever . . .just like this!
Lifting himself slowly, Ronnie sat up and moved down between my legs. He leaned in and kissed my belly button and allowed his mouth and sensuous lips to roam all over my belly, circling, circling ever so slowly downward. As with my shirt, I'm not exactly sure how my sweats made it to the pile on the floor, but there they were - with my boxers. The soft place between your leg and dick is where I next felt those tender lips as he buried his face in my intimate place. He was inhaling and breathing in my aroma. His lips were not so much kissing as they were loving me. His face was pressed tightly to me and his arms had worked around my waist and his hand had a butt cheek in each, pulling me closer and tighter into his possession. I could feel the passion. He was making love to my body and holding me like . . . how do you say it . . . a lover in a fairytale . . .I felt like this was not real, like it was happening to someone else!
My hands were entwined in his silky brown hair. It was so soft. Somehow the caresses from my hand released the herbal scents from his shampoo and they mixed intoxicatingly with the aroma of two boys in love. The smell is not describable - but powerful and addictive. I mean, boys have a definite smell - a scent unique to them (you know it right?). Then there was the precum smell, and the teen boy room smells, and the shampoo, and the . . . oh shit - I told you I couldn't describe it!
Gently he lowered his face to my raging member. He kept his eyes locked to mine as he took me into himself while engulfing me all the way to the base. His hands and fingers were messaging and caressing me. The combination of sensations was making me delirious. This was no teen rutting session - Ronnie was loving me, slowly and passionately - and I knew it. I could feel it. Then I could feel my essence boiling over and into his tender mouth. I was bucking and bouncing and the sheets were all but torn from the bed as I continued flowing into him.
He stayed with me with his head there in my private place until my body was back under my own control. The drug-like high began slowly ebbing and I felt the breathing slowing. I was aware of the blood pulsing in my head and temples and could feel my heart racing uncontrollably. He washed my cock and pubes with his mouth and gently let me fall from his lips. Crawling back up my body, kissing me lightly as he came, he soon was back in my arms and laid his head on my shoulder. He lay directly on top of me with his full weight and even though he was just a boy, it was enough to seem as though he was pressing his love into me. His lips found mine again and we shared his reward. Oh, those sweet lips!
I held him there in my arms and felt the burning in my balls slowly releasing their heat and the warming sensation enveloping me starting from my balls and working slowly outward until I was positively glowing with his radiance. I distantly remembered the poster over his bed, you know, of the two homerun sluggers and the slogan 'Do you believe?' as I drifted away into utopia my heart said, "Yes, I believe . . God . . yes .. I believe . . .I believe. . ."
Blinking at the light in my eyes, I tried to focus. I was tucked neatly into a cocoon of blankets and was nice and toasty warm . . . hmmm . . wonder how I got so warm . . . ahhh yes . . .I remember. Shoot! I sprang an instant boner. I struggled to roll out from under the blankets as I looked around for Ronnie.
I sat up rather groggily, my head was kinda foggy. Swinging my legs over the edge I put my hands on my knees and rolled my head in a circle. Now I was able to see a bit better and I couldn't believe what I saw. My room, I mean our room, Mike's and mine . . . it was spotless! Everything was off the floor and straightened up and organized. It looked like Ronnie's room. I smiled as I realized what he had done for me. He didn't want to wake me so he stayed with me and cleaned my (our) room . . . how sweet! I was grinning by now. And the door slowly opened. It was my love.
"Hi sleepy head!" he said while coming over and sitting by my side.
I leaned into him and put my head on his shoulder. His arms slipped around me in a hug and we kissed tenderly. My stomach let out a load rumbling sound that broke up our romantic embrace and caused us both to giggle.
"Sounds like someone needs food!" he giggled
"Umm, yea," I said while leaning in for another kiss, "but I know what I want first." I kissed him deeply and settled into his body. He was fully clothed in this sexy gray tee shirt and killer blue shorts. His brown skin and hair perfectly accented his outfit and I could have literally started eating him up . . . hmm . .that's a good idea!!!!
My stomach growled again and I knew that the fun stuff would have to wait. "When are Mike and Nellie coming over? I'm starved!"
"Dude," Ronnie laughed, "You've been asleep for two days!"
"Oh, no wonder I'm dying here," I said as I slugged him on the shoulder. "What are you trying to do to me? Why didn't you wake me?"
"Well at first we just thought you needed sleep so we left you alone. By the next morning I got worried. Your Mom called the Doctor, he said you were fine and we should just let you sleep till you woke up. He said that you never were able to string too many hours together of sleep in the hospital. He thought you might sleep 24 to 36 hours. You did."
"Wow."
"How do you feel?"
"Much better I think . . . hungry."
"Well," he said bounding up off the bed, "Do you want to eat in here, or down stairs?"
"I'm kinda tired and sore from being in bed so long. But I don't know if I will be able to handle the stairs," I said sort of sheepishly.
"Dude," he laughed, "I'll carry you if I have too! Come on!"
So we headed down to get something to eat. I had on some cut-off sweats and a plain white tee shirt. I had lost considerable weight over the past weeks and my skin was several shades paler. I was not exactly a lovely sight. But, Ronnie took me by the hand and put my arm around my shoulder so he could support me as we descended the stairs. His arm was around my waist. We made it without incident and I most likely could have done it on my own, but having Ronnie to lean on was nothing I would ever complain about.
We were greeted by Mom sitting at the kitchen table. "Good morning boys!" she said with a genuine cheery voice. "I guess you guy's want me to feed you?" The smile on her face belied her annoyance.
Breakfast was simply the best; pancakes, bacon, scrambled eggs, toast, jam, juice, and thank God above . . . COFFEE!!!! Between the two of us we ate enough for four teenagers. Mom loved every moment of it.
After we were filled to the top, we grabbed a fist of Momma's homemade chocolate chip cookies and headed outside to the back porch. The fresh air was fantastic. We sat on the porch and looked out over the back yard that sort of morphed into the woods beyond the borders of the yard. Only the mowing line formed a definite transition, otherwise it was as if you just walked out the back door and could wander into the dense woods to never return. I blinked hard at the memories flooding my mind as I stared out into the woods. I wouldn't cry - not anymore. I will be strong I told myself.
My mind had other ideas and began to do that fading backward thing again . . . back to my yesterdays. As a smaller boy, I spent hour after hour out in these woods and exploring the creek. My vivid imagination and dread of being with the other kids made this a perfect safe haven. I tried hard not to think of why I stayed away from the other kids so much - it was because I knew down deep that I just wasn't the same as them.
By the time I was eleven, I clearly had an attraction for boys. More than an attraction, I found them compelling - almost addictive. How often I found myself looking at a cute kid and I would sort of drift off into this fantasy world of talking, walking hand in hand, or arm over arm, looking into their eyes and such. At that age I didn't know too much about sex, or just what the attraction was all about, but I knew instinctively that I mustn't share this secret with others. By the time I was 12 and 13 I began to understand the difference between curiosity and sexual curiosity. I came to know I had sex on my mind, I lived it, I dreamt it - boy sex.
I was really an attractive boy. I mean, I was really a nice looking kid. Groomed hair, long eyelashes, chocolate brown eyes, and my eyebrows were perfect - or so I was told. I was a country kid, so I was strong and lean, but my frame was medium to small - not a powerful kid. My brother got all those gifts - always bigger, stronger, faster, and smarter then the rest of his group - the natural leader. Everyone always loved Mike. I occasionally resented the comparisons of Mike to "poor Andy" . . . but somehow I never held that against him. He always was quick to defend me or pull me into his arms in a sideways bear hug and telling folks that one day I would be pounding their face instead of him having to do it.
But it was that cute face of mine and those hungry eyes that seemed to betray me. Once in gym class, I was around 12 or so, a boy decided to help me with my problem. Ricky Holt, a short stocky boy with short cropped blonde hair except for the curls at the bangs and collar line that he always seemed to sport, pale blue eyes and a sexy crooked smile. His family had money and he had taken karate lessons for years - he was small, but powerful. I had just finished laps and was resting on the lower bleachers when he slid up beside me. Right up beside me. We were in the same grade, but not close friends so I knew something was up. I moved over just a touch thinking he didn't know how hard his slide would be, but he followed me. I shrugged and turned back to watch the others straggling in. Ricky put his hand on my thigh and I froze. "O shit!" I though to myself! "Now what do I do?"
I picked up his hand and gently put it off my leg and looked back to the others.
Ricky's hand returned to my thigh and he moved it higher toward my crotch and squeezed ever so slightly. His hand was icy cold, even through the material of my cotton gym shorts, and his fingers felt like rough manipulators or something. I shot him a curious look and pushed him and his hand away from me.
"Stop it, Ricky!" I said with as much sternness and indignity as I could muster. "I don't like that."
"What's the matter?" he asked. "I see you watching me and looking at me, don't think I don't know about you."
I jumped up and took off. I didn't know where I was going, just away from him. I ran along the stage at the far side of the gym toward the equipment room door when he caught me. He reached up behind me and grabbed a fist full of my hair and yanked me backwards. With my feet already running forward and the sudden change of direction of my head, my body lost complete control and I slammed onto the gym floor with an echoing thud. I was stunned at the blow, the pain in my scalp, and the impact of my head bouncing off the floor.
Suddenly, he was on my chest and had pinned my arms to my sides. He slapped me in the face and said, "What's the matter? Want your momma to come and save her precious little mommy's boy?" as he slapped me again.
I regained my bearing enough to resist and attempt to throw him off of me, but he just started hitting me with his fists in the face. I was crying by now and terrified about just what else he had in mind. The rest of the boys heard a fight was going on and had started circling chanting, "Hit him!" "Hit him!" and such.
Finally, I guess he could sense that the coach would be along at any moment because he stopped punching me. He leaned down and placed his face next to mine and whispered in my ear so no one but he and I could hear, "Stop looking at me or I'll finish it next time, faggot!"
He got up off me and kicked me in the ribs as he stepped over my crumpled form. The others cheered, and broke up, some calling "Wuss!" "Pansy!" and "Pussy!" across the gym. Their words stung. I felt as small as a tiny rat caught in a huge trap. I struggled to get up, wiping tears and blood from my face. I sat up against the wall and put my head on my knees fighting back my tears.
Just then the coach (stupid bastard) showed up and yelled, "Smith! Get you're whining ass up off the floor and get to the locker room and wash that shit off your face. I got no time for you whining little perverts always wanting to get out of something. Go on, get out!" In stunned silence I gathered myself up and made my way to the washroom to pull myself together.
Sitting on the porch the tears began to form on my eyes and I cried. Damn!
Ronnie was brave and true and just held me there and let me. Eventually he lifted my head from my shoulders and looked into my eyes. "Wanna talk," he said softly.
I sniffed and shuttered as goose bumps crept down my arms, "I was just wondering . . . why . . . why me?" He hugged me closer to him and said nothing. I don't know why, but somehow he felt like the older and more mature of us. I felt like a small, small boy who needed help. After my breathing returned to normal we decided to go back inside. He held my hand as we went back to the kitchen.
Mom was at her post and when she saw us come in she held up her arms for me to come to her. I've read about all these tough-nut kids that would just walk past and tell their moms to just bite rocks - but I loved her and needed her. I ran to her and buried my face in her bosom and wept.
"Honey," she said while running her hands through my hair, "It's all over now baby. Momma's gonna make it all better, you'll see." She rocked me and comforted me like I was nine again and had just skinned my knee or something. Any self-respecting 16 year old would be mortified to be caught in his momma's arms like this - but right now, I didn't care. I felt so much like a boat adrift, desperately needing a lifeline, and Momma always had a way of reaching out past the fog and confusion and pulling me safely back.
"Andy," she said with motherly conviction, "you mustn't blame yourself for this." (Damn, how'd she know that?) "This boy is evil in his deepest self. Only someone filled with hate or fear could do this to another person. I don't pretend to understand why he did it, but I know it wasn't your fault."
She pulled my face up making me look at her in the eyes. (Momma's are bad at that. James Andy Smith . . . you look at me when I'm talking to you!!! Ever hear something like that growing up?)
"You have to get past hating yourself for being who you are son." I blinked. "God made you and He don't make mistakes! I've told you that all your life - haven't I?" she asked.
I nodded in agreement.
"Did you believe me when I told you that when you were six?" I nodded
"Did you believe that when I told you when you were eleven?" I nodded in agreement again.
She hugged me close again and kissed me warmly on the top of my hair. "Oh, honey, I didn't say that because you were something I dreamed up and pretended you were. I said that because it's true! Baby, you told me yourself that you didn't choose to be this way. Now there are those that will say that this is about choice and even call you names, hateful, hurtful names. But I want you to remember what I've always taught you about God.
"God loves you, honey. He loves you - all of you . . . you just the way He created you. No, He won't always love everything you do. When you're wrong, you'll have to make it right. If you hurt and offend others, you'll have to repent and ask forgiveness - from Him and those you've hurt. Our lives are ours - and we have only to be true to ourselves, God, and those we love."
She went on to give us a more healthy view of God's love for people and His rejection of bigotry and hate. She told us about the fact that God looks on the heart - while people only see the outside. It was a long discussion, but we sure felt better afterwards.
Ronnie had come over to me and was kneeling beside me and had his arms around me from behind. He had his chin on my shoulder and his cheek against mine. Momma had him somehow in her embrace as well. We both nodded understanding and agreement with her story. We had been to church all our lives and had heard these stories many times.
"Now listen to me young man," she said sternly, "I will not have you living your life in guilt over who you are. You cannot change your beautiful brown eyes, and you cannot help that you're in love with these beautiful blue eyes." She wrapped both her hands around Ronnie's tanned face and pulled him to her for a gentle motherly kiss.
"Now, get back up to bed and stop all this crying. I won't have anymore of it today," she said with my face in her hands now, "Do you hear me young man!"
Ronnie and I both broke out in huge grins and said, "Yes, momma!" in unison.
"See you don't forget it either!" she said and shooed us out of the kitchen. As we headed for the stairs she said, "Dinner's at six, Mike and young Mr. Nelson are coming over, with Margaret (Ronnie's mother). I want both of you showered and part of that crust removed before you come down!"
"Mom!" I whined. Both Ronnie and I turned about 18 shades of red as we fled the scene before anything more embarrassing could be said.
Amazingly, I didn't have all that much trouble getting up the stairs. But I was pretty winded by the time I got to the bed. I sat down and Ronnie just stood in front of me with a quizzical look.
"What?" I asked.
"Don't you want to shower, or something?" he asked.
I smiled warmly and said, "Something? Just what something did you have in mind?"
"We . . .umm . . could . . um . take one together!?" His head was down and he looked all the world like a vulnerable little boy.
This forced him to look up at me directly. He saw my smile and matched it with his own radiant smile. He has the most beautiful smile - straight beautiful teeth, soft sensuous and rosy lips, giving his face radiance, lighting the whole room.
His high energy kicked in again and he grabbed me up around the armpits pulling me to my feet and practically dragging me to the shower. We got to the bathroom and he shut the door; I switched the lock on (no way I'm going through another shower surprise!). Ronnie started the shower and I got the towels out of the linen closet. While we waited for the water temperature to adjust we both skinned out of our clothes. This was the first time we were both naked in front of each other in the light and without an audience.
My heart skipped a beat as I looked at his full glory. This was the most beautiful boy in the entire planet. His tan was remarkable. I found out later that he had a lot of Native American ancestry and his tan was more or less permanent. He did get darker during the summer, but never went lily white like I did in winter, especially my butt! He was definitely a boy, yet the man he was growing into was becoming evident. The sports had begun to shape and define his muscles. Two nickel-sized nipples were standing very much at attention and his stomach was flat and lean. There was the beginning of a six-pack, which was very unusual for a boy his age and size. The few pubes surrounding his dick were dark, like his hair on his head, but curly and downy soft. Hardly any hair was visible anywhere else except for the dusting of downy hairs on his shins. His legs were stunning, full of strength and definition, the running and swimming obviously dominating his lower body definition. Then there was his delicious cock and balls. Everything else about his physical features seemed to all gravitate to and accent his gorgeous boyhood. It was standing at full mast by now and I couldn't take my eyes off him.
Slowly we moved toward each other. My eyes were running rapidly all over his entire body, soaking in every essence of him. When we touched we melted together. My left hand went to his dick and balls, gently caressing and stroking, while my right slipped around his shoulder pulling his upper body into mine in a tight embrace. He wrapped both arms around my waist and engulfed my ass with both hands, squeezing and kneading them softly.
Our bodies ground together and our lips met as we kissed. Our dicks had by now been trapped between our bodies and we were rubbing them together in sync with our grinding bodies.
We broke the kiss and reluctantly looked toward the shower. "We'd better get in," I said, "There isn't a lot of hot water." Holding me like a patient, Ronnie helped me into the shower first and he followed, closing the curtain as he came.
Under the water Ronnie grabbed the soap and began washing my chest and running the slick bubbles in circles all over my body. Slowly he worked down and around my butt cheeks by reaching around me. I couldn't resist and I put my arms around his neck and kissed him passionately. He pulled away and spun me around so he could wash my back.
After he finished my back he started his downward descent again, this time as his arms slipped around me, he found my erection and began stoking me slowly. He leaned in and nibbled at my neck and ears and whispered, "God, I love you Andy!"
I responded by leaning backwards in his arms and putting my head on his shoulder and holding on to his arms. I purred in excitement as he continued running his hands all over me. I turned in his arms and encircled him with my arms and brought him to my lips for another kiss. Our slick bodies were hot and exciting as we held each other rocking gently under the water.
Ronnie turned me around as he reached for the shampoo (the cheap stuff - not the beautiful smelling stuff he used). I leaned back again as he lathered and scrubbed my scalp. I relished the luxurious feeling of being pampered by this luscious boy. Every touch, every move was sensuous and deliberate as he was intent on pleasuring me. He directed my head under the water to rinse the soap from my hair. Afterwards he pulled me in to a kiss and declared me squeaky clean.
I started to return the favors to him, but he took the soap away from me and told me to get out and dry off and get in the bed. I protested, but he kissed me and said he was still in charge of my recovery and I was to be a good patient and follow instructions. He sealed his demands with a kiss.
I seemed to be out of options, so I stepped out and began drying myself. I was somewhat disappointed as I thought all the touches and kisses meant that we would have another round of satisfaction. Ronnie started singing softly to himself as he washed. I smiled at the sweetness of his voice and decided to trust him and not pout.
I left the wet towel and dirty clothes on the floor, deciding that I could come and pick things up later. Once safely back in the bedroom, I laid down across the bed to wait for my love to finish. My feet were hanging off the side and my head was nearly all the way to the other side. I suppose I dozed off because I didn't hear Ronnie return to the room. The next thing I remember was a warm sensation around my dick. The warmth enveloped my member and it responded by rising to its full length. My hands moved to that place and I felt his still damp hair. I groaned with pleasure as he began slowly pulling up then plunging down on my cock, bathing it with his tongue. His hands were rubbing my thighs and playing with my balls. I was delirious with his touches. Without warning my seed blasted out of my cock and down his throat as he eagerly accepted all I had.
I lifted my head off the bed and said, "Damn, Dude - that was awesome!"
He smirked and said, "Move over, lover . . . we're just getting started."
I grinned and rolled up on my side so I could make room for him. Ronnie climbed up beside me as we both stretched out beside one another sharing the same pillow.
I looked into his sparking eyes and said, "Thanks Ronnie."
"For what," he asked.
I had my head on my hand and was propped up on one elbow. I leaned in and kissed him softly on the lips - no tongue or aggressiveness, just a soft warm touch of the lips. "For being by my side all through this whole horrible mess. For getting Mike and Nelson before that bastard killed me. For making the doctors and our moms let you sleep with me at the hospital, for caring how I feel . . . and for knowing how I feel."
"Oh," he said sounding disappointed, "I thought it was for the best blow job ever!" Then he grinned. I punched him.
"Asshole."
"Andy," he said after the giggles were under control (God how I loved to hear him giggle), "You don't have to thank me for those things - that's what lovers do - and I do . . you know . . love you, Andy Smith."
This time he reached up and pulled me down on top of him as he rolled underneath. I put my full weight on him. It occurred to me that this was another first - he was usually on top, I liked it this way.
All too soon he flipped me over and was back in his favorite position. We were breathing hard and our penises were very erect. His was pulsing and throbbing against my thigh, mine proudly pointing toward the ceiling; a small pearl drop of precum glistening at the tip.
Ronnie saw this and moved slowly down and licked it off with the tip of his tongue. I saw a glimmer of an idea flash across his face and redness crept up his face from his chest and neck. I wondered what could have embarrassed him so quickly and was about to speak, when he suddenly went down on me swallowing my entire cock to my pubes in one smooth motion. He inhaled deeply when he got to the bottom as his nose moved slightly left to right in my pubes while gently massaging my rod with his lips and tongue. I was writhing back and forth with pleasure and calling his name softly over and over.
He twisted slightly, straddling my stomach and sitting lightly on my chest, holding most of his weight on his knees and hands. He was looking straight into my exes when I opened them to see what he was doing, I was about to protest but he leaned in and kissed me stopping my words before they formed.
He lifted his face again and looked in my eyes as if he wanted my approval - for what I wasn't sure, but I trusted him completely. So I nodded for him to continue.
He kissed me once more and I felt him reach for my dick with his right hand as he pushed back with his bottom toward my cock. He lifted slightly on his knees and positioned himself over my dick and slowly started to lower himself onto me. I couldn't believe he was actually going to do it! I opened my eyes wide in protest but he shook his head as if to tell me, "No, I'm not stopping."
"Oh God, Ronnie this is incredible, but please . . . please, you don't have to do this." I said in my delirium.
"Yessss . . .yessss . . .I have to do this," he exclaimed through clenched teeth.
The next few minutes were like a dream. I won't tell you of the sensations and the details of how he loved me because any way I could say it will make it sound cheap and dirty; but it wasn't. It was beyond beautiful. Ronnie and I were now united in love. The love we consummated would endure through many years and overcome incredible prejudice. It started here on my bed that afternoon so long ago.
I collapsed on the bed, totally spent. Ronnie stopped and ground hard and deep onto me. Our breathing was spasmodic and out of control. He fell down on my chest and wrapped his arms around me. Our sweat soaked bodies heaved in unison as we labored to gain control of our breath.
"Oh my God Ronnie," I panted, "That was sooo good . . .I never knew . ."
"Shhh," he said as he put his lips on me and kissed me, "Don't talk, I want to feel all of this . . . don't talk."
I must have drifted off to sleep because I felt someone looking at me and my eyes flickered open. He sea-blue eyes were only inches away and there was a peaceful, contented look on his face. He pecked me on the lips.
"Andy," he whispered, never blinking or taking his eyes off mine.
"Yes, babe," I said
"Did you like it?"
"Oh man, it's soo . . I can't say it . . . I never knew it could be so good Ronnie. What did I feel like in you?"
'Like . . . like I was in heaven," he smiled.
"Didn't it hurt?" I whispered as I brushed a sweat stiffened lock from his face.
"Yea, a little at first," he said, "But after I got used to you the pain just went away. It was so hot and hard. I thought I would loose my mind . . it is so incredible." He kissed me.
"Andy?"
"Yea," I said with my eyes closed.
"Can I do it to you?"
I lifted my head and looked deep into his eyes, "God, yes! I have wanted you for so long."
He kissed me again deeply and lifted himself up and onto his knees. He was in control and I was his willing lover. I gladly received him. There was some pain, but soon the pain gave way to pleasure as he fulfilled all my dreams. Momma always said your dreams could come true, now I really believed it.
When it was over he collapsed on top of me and almost immediately we passed out. Both of us were spent beyond recovery and never knew that anyone was watching as we drifted off to sleep . . .
Dad quietly tugged Mike and Nellie's elbows, pulling them from the doorway as he shut the door gently. "Leave them alone boys . . . they've been through enough, let them be. Come with me . . . we have a few things to talk about," he said as he put his enormous arms around each of their necks and escorted them down the stairs.
There it is . . . the chapter so many of you have begged me to write. Just remember that I believe in romance and relationships more than I desire raw sex. I am uncomfortable writing all the sex stuff. You may have noticed that this chapter is titled 8a, and you wonder if you missed 8. The answer is no. This is the re-write. In the first draft I at first provided intimate details of our lovemaking. I asked two very special friends to help me evaluate it - the agreement was that I had betrayed the spirit of the story and this relationship, so I took the details out. Some of you will be disappointed, if so - there are plenty of other places to fulfill your need for salacious sex. I'm afraid that I will not be able to satisfy you anyway. The rest of you, I hope you have enjoyed it and that you stay with me for a bit longer as this relationship comes into its own. Contact me at boyzheart@hotmail.com with comments, suggestions or conversation.
-Andy