Say Goodbye to Sparkleland

Say Goodbye to Sparkleland Chapter 6

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6

"We have time for one more," Logan said.

I had already been through so many emotional memories in this session. Talking things out with a therapist — even if it was a friend of mine — was making me more self-aware than I thought I could ever be. I wasn't sure if it was helping me get over the breakup with Cooper, but I was "getting in touch with myself." If that was actually a real thing.

I opened my black book.

"Number 6. Cruz. Hispanic. Five foot, six. Hairless chest. Cut, four inches soft, five inches hard. Thick. No pre-cum. Fuzzy balls. Shot like a firehose. Thin, clear cum. Fantastic bottom."

"I'm almost wanting to start a spreadsheet," Logan said.

"This was all your idea, Doctor Horwood."

"And I think it is helping us get to the bottom of things."

"Things. What exactly are my things? The fact I cheated on the love of my life? Why I can't get over him? My preoccupation about detailing my sexual partners? I have enough issues, I suppose."

"Very few people are perfectly happy, Mitchell. Some people just need some help finding their coping mechanisms and ways to release their struggles that cause them depression."

"I hope. I wake up every day still wanting Cooper back, and then it hits me that I know he and Laramie are the real deal. And my heart withers and dies."

"Back to Cruz. Tell me about him. Do you remember him?"

"Very much so. He was the first person to say, `I love you' to me."

Logan jotted some words on the pad I hated so much.

It had been four weeks into my junior year. I hadn't really thought about dating. I was determined to get my grades in place. No partying, no dating, no fucking until my grades were on track. All of my classes had at least one test so far this semester, and I had done well on all of them. One I totally aced, nothing wrong at all.

Being 20 was frustrating. Legally, I couldn't get alcohol, but it wasn't like it was impossible. The question was ... did I even care?

As I walked the campus for an evening stroll, I appreciated that the fall nights were now supremely pleasant. The humid, sultry days of summer were now past. The evenings occasionally had just enough nip in the air to make me question if I wanted a jacket.

"Is your name Mitchell?" an approaching student asked.

I recognized him from one of my classes, but I couldn't pinpoint which one.

"Yes, it is." I paused. "Have we met?"

"Not really, but we are in the same Accounting II class."

"That's it."

"My name is Cruz, by the way," he said, extending his hand.

Shaking his hand, I noticed the cuteness to Cruz. He was shorter than me. He had a good build, though, and I loved his facial hair. He had a short, trimmed moustache and just enough facial fuzz to give him a ... huggable ... appearance.

"Nice evening," I said, not knowing how to begin a conversation with a stranger.

"It is. I like walking in the evenings. I break up my studies that way. If I can get half done before dinner, then I usually only have to dedicate an hour before bed. How'd you do on the last test?"

"Really well. I kind of like numbers."

"Me too. I tested out of my math requirements, so I took Accounting I last year. I think there are only two sophomores in our class," he said.

"Nice."

"I guess. Accounting I wasn't a problem, but this course isn't coming quite as easily, but I'm not behind or anything."

"Luckily, we don't have any homework over the weekend," I said.

"I like it when Fridays are that way."

We walked further a bit, now sharing our stroll with each other.

"Any plans this weekend?" I asked.

"Nothing major. I have two assignments to contend with. Origins of Christianity is kind of kicking my ass."

"Are you a Religious Studies or Theology major?"

"Nah. My parents are super Catholic. They encouraged me to take at least one religious course this year. I made it fit into one of my requirements."

"Not your favorite class, huh?"

"Umm... no."

Cruz looked at his watch.

"My roommate and I are having a few friends to our room. I make a mean margarita, and Miguel makes a homemade salsa to die for."

"Chips and margaritas then?"

"Yeah. Not a feast or anything."

I considered the invitation. My roommate, Wes, was out on a date.

"Why not?"

"Cool. I think you might like our friends."

Twenty minutes later, I was in Cruz' room. He introduced me to Miguel, who was busy dicing ingredients to blend into his salsa.

"I've never seen anyone make homemade salsa before. It looks a bit involved."

"It's all about the right tomatoes," Miguel said. "Hope you like it on the spicier side."

"Sounds good. Can I run and get anything?"

"Nope," Cruz said. "We got chips yesterday. My cousin bought me the tequila last weekend when I was home. I have all I need, and Miguel keeps the spices here in the room. We just get the fresh produce each time."

"Impressive," I said.

"I learned from my mom when I was young. I learned to like jalapenos in grade school. Cruz practically grew up on it."

"Oh. You guys knew each other before college then?"

"Right," said Cruz. "It made it easy to leave home for college when you had that person you knew."

"I didn't," I said. "I guess I made friends easily enough. My freshman roommate was okay. He was an only child, so sharing a room was slightly odd for him, but we got along okay."

"Already having an established friend made it easier for Cruz to come out last year," Miguel said. "He knew he could trust me."

Oh.

I hadn't picked up on a gay vibe from Cruz, but he clearly felt comfortable letting me know. Did he think I was gay? Was that why I was invited?

A knock came at their door. Cruz answered. Soon I was introduced to Faith and Carlos. They asked how I knew Cruz and Miguel, and I said that Cruz and I shared a class.

"He's so nice," said Faith.

"Cruz was very nice. It was an interesting relationship," I told Logan. "We were just friends for a few weeks. I wasn't sure if he even knew I was gay. We shared a class, and after bumping into each other, he invited me over to his room, along with other friends. I think there were seven or eight of us in there. Several of them were Hispanic, there was a gay couple, a straight couple and someone who wasn't paired with anyone — to be honest, I wasn't sure on that person."

"Eventually he found out the truth, obviously," Logan observed.

"Mitchell, I hope it's okay if I ask, but ... are you gay?"

I looked at Cruz over the hamburger being lifted to my mouth. We had been friends for two weeks. This finally came up.

"Um. Yeah. I am. Clearly, that is fine with you, I assume."

"Well, duh."

"Cruz, is that why you asked me over a couple of weeks ago?"

"No. I thought you might be, but I wasn't for sure. You just seemed nice. And the real reason probably was I thought you were handsome."

"Oh. Thanks," I said, knowing I was blushing.

"Are you seeing anyone?"

"Not right now. I did last year. A little."

"Have you been with a lot of guys?"

"Only a handful. Last year ... got ... a little more intense for me."

"Oh. I've only been with one."

"There's not a quota, you know."

He smiled, then took a bite of his chicken sandwich. He stared at it, opened the bun and pulled out two pickles slices.

"You don't like pickles, I see."

"Not actually. I don't like them with chicken. Burgers are fine."

"Interesting."

"Let's hope that's not the most interesting thing about me."

I chuckled. "I actually don't know a lot about you. I see you visit with your friends, which you've introduced me to. I know you and Miguel grew up together. I don't know a lot else."

Cruz had always seemed comfortable around me, but that confidence seemed broken all of a sudden.

"I'm not sure what to say."

"Tell me about your family."

"Hmm. Well, I'm one of eight kids. I'm-"

"Eight??"

"Yeah, I'm seventh in the order. The third sibling was a girl, and my youngest sister is number eight. The other six are boys."

"Wow."

"Super religious family, particularly my parents. We were raised mega-Catholic."

"Do you attend here at school?"

"Heck, no. As we know, I'm gay."

"There are homosexuals that attend church."

"Maybe. Not me. Only when I'm at home with the family. To be honest, it's just going through the motions."

"What was it like having so many brothers and sisters?"

"Crowded. We were on top of each other it seemed. When my older brothers and sister were going off to college and moving out, I loved having more room. You didn't have to fight for the bathroom as much. But I started to miss them. I guess we were a close family."

"How do parents send eight kids to college??"

"Well, we had financial aid. And only three of us have gone to college. Brother two and my older sister."

"Oh. Okay."

"Two actually live in Juarez. Our family has dual citizenship."

"I don't even know how that works."

"It's not interesting enough to tell. Having an American parent and a Mexican parent has all sorts of moving parts."

"You don't have a heavy accent or anything."

"Well, I lived a couple years in Mexico, three years in Texas, two in Oklahoma, and the rest in New Mexico. Who had time to develop an accent?"

I chuckled.

"I like your laugh."

I blushed again.

"Mitchell, does your family know you're gay?"

"Yeah, I told them a while back."

"How'd they take it?"

"Pretty good, I guess. No parties but no tears either. They have been accepting. In the spring, I took a boyfriend home."

Cruz sighed. "There is no way that will ever happen with me."

"You're only 19. You will be on your own in a few years. Hopefully you will be okay being your true self with them ... eventually."

Cruz held a pairing of French fries in front of his face, but he didn't pull them to his mouth. His eyes glazed over as he was caught up in his thoughts. His expression went blank, and the French fries stayed captive in their point in space.

I nudged his wrist, breaking his trance.

"Hm? Oh." He dipped the previously frozen fries into a puddle of ketchup he had created on his plate.

"Cruz and I didn't jump into dating. We got to know each other as friends. Eventually, we had `the talk.' He said he wasn't for sure I was gay at the beginning but thought I might be. The more I got to know him, the more I liked him."

"What did you like most about him?"

"His kindness more than anything else. I wouldn't say he was the most attractive man on my list. In fact, of all the ones I had been with up to that time, Cruz may have been ... the ... plainest? That's not really the right word. He was cute; he was. But ... not necessarily a hunk, if that makes sense."

"But you were attracted to him."

"Right. A lot of it was his personality, who he was. He had a vulnerability with his family. I wanted to be there for him. But he had other friends too."

"I take it you were someone he could confide in."

"When we opened up to each other, we found a deeper connection."

"So, you said you were with a guy last year?"

"Right. Alton."

"How'd that go," I hesitantly asked.

"Fine. Good for a while."

"He seemed to like me, but ..."

"But?"

"We were together for about five weeks, maybe six or so. It started with kissing. After a couple weeks, it became ..." Cruz looked around. "...a little sucking."

"Okay."

"We enjoyed it. Alton was amazing at ..." Another quick glance around. "... blowjobs."

"So, what happened?"

"Me. He had developed experience in high school. He was fucking guys before graduation. He was actually the first guy I even kissed. In the beginning that was kind of a turn-on for him. After a few weeks, I think he wanted more of what he had before. I guess I wasn't quite there."

"I'm sorry."

"Just one of those things."

I reached over and grabbed his hand. My thumb rubbed circles into the back of his wrist. "Some things are worth waiting for."

Cruz' skin color didn't show the effects of blushing much, but his expression did.

We finished our meal. As we got into my car, I started the engine. Before I could put it in reverse, Cruz leaned over and gave me a simple kiss.

"I wanted to do that. I hope it was okay."

I smiled. "It was okay."

Back at campus, we walked to the field between our dorms. We sat under a tree for a moment.

"I'm sorry that I have work study now," Cruz said.

"Don't worry. Can I see you tomorrow night?"

"Like a date?"

"Yeah."

"I'd like that."

"How about I come to your room at 6?"

He nodded. "I'll make sure I have all my work done."

"Me too." Then I pressed my lips to his.

"He was a year younger than me. I found somewhat of an innocence to him, but Cruz was also ... authentic. He didn't try to be some macho stud or anything fake like that. He was the real thing."

"It sounds like it was a good pairing."

"We were. We really were."

"Did anything go wrong?"

"Not in the beginning. The first week, we were content to just kiss. It was only two dates between all our classes and his work study and everything. Miguel went back home to visit in late October, so he asked me if I wanted to spend the weekend sleeping in his room. I agreed to."

"I'm glad you are willing to stay over. Here. With me."

We would inevitably take our affection to further places over the weekend. I didn't want to pressure Cruz to move too fast, but his invitation was clear indication that he wanted us to move further in our relationship.

After 11, we turned out the lights. A small lamp on his desk remained on. It didn't seem bright at all at first. There was enough illumination to make it easy to take our clothes off. Cruz stripped down to his underwear and crawled into bed. I wanted to be naked, but for his sake, I kept my briefs on also. There was a slight bulge, but I wasn't fully hard. Yet.

That changed as we kissed for a couple of minutes. His hand moved around to gently cup my ass. My arm was around his shoulder. My fingertips gently caressed his shoulder blades. It moved down to the small of his back.

My body moved him to lie on his back. I hovered above him. I was on my knees and elbows, so my full weight wasn't on him. But our bodies touched. Our chests touched. Our hips touched. Our dicks touched.

They were both hard.

As we kissed, we gently pressed our erections into each other. Cruz started to pant into his kiss. I pressed our crotches tighter. Gently, I lowered my complete weight on his body. His hands rubbed my shoulders, then my back, and then his fingers slipped below my waistband.

"I want to suck you," I whispered into his ear.

"Please do."

I leaned up and carefully pulled his underwear over his jutting cock. I maneuvered to remove them completely off his body. I stepped off the bed to remove my own remaining article of clothing.

I noticed by this time that the small lamp seemed brighter as our eyes adjusted to the lighting in the room. When I moved back into bed, I positioned my cock against Cruz's. Mine was longer, but his had an incredible heat to it. I held them together. He breathed out in complete satisfaction. Gently I stroked them together.

"I'm glad you're here, Mitch," he whispered.

"Me too."

I leaned up to kiss him again, then my lips traveled down his neck, down his shoulders, down his chest, over his nipple, down his torso ... until they found his waiting organ. I kissed the tip, but let my lips, now totally wet, trace the length of his cock. My tongue licked its way back to the tip.

I swallowed him.

I devoured him.

I consumed him.

I sucked him.

I feasted on him.

Cruz was silent, but I could tell by his breathing he enjoyed it. Just the slightest hiss of "yesssssss" confirmed approval. His hands massaged my neck as my face continued to orally gratify my new lover. His breathing became more ragged, but I wasn't ready to bring Cruz off just yet.

I pulled off and let my mouth taste his shaft down to the base. Then I moved to his balls. They had the softest, fuzziest hair on them. They loosely hung, and my mouth stimulated them one at a time like a fish.

My hand massaged his chest, as I envied his balls. I sucked one of them deep into my mouth.

"Ohhhhhh," he moaned.

I licked underneath them. His taint smelled of fresh shower gel as if he had just come from the shower room right before our date.

"Suck me, please," he begged in a whisper.

I moved to his side and Cruz's hand gripped my cock. He pulled and milked me like a cow as my face descended back on his stiff pole.

He gripped my cock and moaned aloud.

He stroked my cock and moaned aloud.

He jerked my cock and moaned aloud.

He groped my cock and moaned aloud.

Once again, I thought Cruz was too close, and I lifted off.

"That feels good. Stroke me harder," I said kneeling upright.

He lifted his arm and began jerking my hard-on with a vigorous rhythm. Then he changed his body's position so that he could swallow my manhood.

"You're big," he whispered.

And my dick was then warm and wet and tasted and massaged and engulfed.

"Fuck, yes," I moaned.

I got on all fours and fucked his face.

He jerked his own cock as he intensified his blowjob. I fucked him. He sucked me in. Fucking his face. Sucking my cock.

Cruz groaned into my cock. I could feel his hips lifting from the mattress. He grunted into my rigid flesh. There was no way he was releasing my cock, but I wanted to watch him come. Seconds later, I could tell he had finished, and I moved back, straddling his legs. He breathed in a huge amount of air as my cock was removed from his throat.

I saw clear cum shot all over his chest. I wanted to add mine to it.

I jerked myself above him. Cruz rubbed my thighs.

I jerked myself above him. Cruz reached for my chest.

I jerked myself above him. Cruz held my hips steady.

"I'm coming," I panted. "Ungh ... Ungh .,, Ungh ... Ungh ... Ungh."

My cum didn't shoot like his had, but the thicker, whiter liquid contrasted to the wide splatter he had made.

I rested back on my haunches and released my dick. We both breathed heavily.

"Was that okay?" he asked.

I smiled at him. "Yes. It was indeed okay."

I kissed him.

Draped over the end of the bed was a hand towel. He reached behind him for it and lifted it to his chest. I took it from him and managed to wipe him clean. I tossed it near our clothes on the floor. Stepping over to the lamp, I turned it out, plunging the room into blackness. Once back in bed, I could feel Cruz put his arm around me.

"I'm glad you're here," he sighed.

"I'm glad you asked."

"We had a good sex life. Eventually, I would sleep over even when his roommate was there. A couple times he slept with me with my roommate there. Obviously, we didn't have sex when we weren't alone."

"This sounds like a healthy relationship."

"Both of us were smart enough to put our studies first, but we still managed to see each other a few times a week. We had sex once a week. It took a little scheduling, but we managed." I paused in my remembrance of our relationship. "I took him home for Thanksgiving. New Mexico was too far away. He would be home for Christmas, but since he wasn't traveling for Thanksgiving, he came home with me."

"Nice."

"Yeah. A lot of things happened then."

"Like?"

"Mitchell, I imagine you want things to ... go further. Alton did. I don't want you to get tired of me."

"I'm not going to get tired of you. I like us being together."

"Me too." Cruz grabbed my hand as we lay naked in bed in the bedroom I grew up in. "I – I love you, Mitchell."

I wasn't expecting that. My chest was on fire. My brain was short-circuiting. That seemed so hard to say to someone, but Cruz just had. I wasn't sure if I was supposed to say it back. If I did, it seemed like I was saying it just because he did. I placed my lips on his and sealed them for one minute. Two minutes. As we neared three minutes, we had to come up for air.

We breathed heavily. Finally, he whispered, "I think it's time you fucked me."

Whoa. I had loved fucking Vaughan — and being fucked by Vaughan. I had been hoping we would reach this stage, but once it was presented to me, it startled me.

"I – I – I think ... I think that ..." I went silent. "Okay."

"I want to do it for you."

"That's sweet, and I want to do it too, but not with my parents down the hall."

"It was Thanksgiving. The night before, he told me he loved me ... and I was really taken with him being able to say that."

"Were you able to say it back?"

"Not at first. It seemed so ... scary. I did when we left for Christmas break. But it was Thanksgiving Day ... Mom and Dad had run over to an elderly co-worker for lunch. I didn't know him, but they didn't want him to be alone. It was only to be an hour, but we were fine with leftovers from the night before. Our big meal would be dinner. It was the first time he and I ... took it further."

"I get your meaning."

My hands had rubbed his shoulders for several minutes. His back was now limber from my massage. Cruz' face was buried into a pillow. My hands gripped and felt his ass cheeks.

"I want you," he mumbled. "I want you to come inside me."

We had managed to talk about safe sex that morning. Having only one partner in that regard, he trusted I was safe.

After Vaughan and I had split, I had bought my own bottle of lube. Two actually. I kept a small bottle at home. I wasn't sure why. I had a larger bottle — which wasn't that big — in my room at school.

"Let me do some things to start," I said.

I popped open the lid. I knew the liquid would make him jump.

"Get ready."

"Oooh!" he called out as clear lubricant dripped into his crack.

My pointer finger rubbed it around his hole. I made the tiniest spirals at his pucker. Gently, the fingertip pushed in. I was fingernail deep. Cruz didn't object. I went knuckle deep.

"You okay?"

"Yeah."

I fingered his tunnel, I probed his passage, I wriggled my digit inside him. I removed it and added lube to two fingers. Stacking them, I pushed them inside Cruz. His body tensed.

"Breathe out."

I heard him exhale. I pulsed my fingers gently in and out. I tried to widen his hole.

"Better?"

"It's fine. It's good. It feels good."

I was ready. I felt Cruz was ready. I made my cock slick and closed the lid.

"Spread your legs a little."

Cruz followed my lead and my knees knelt between his. I positioned my body on one elbow, taking time to push the tip of my erection to his hole. Gently, millimeters of my head forced their way in. Cruz' body seemed ready for me.

The head was in.

Two inches went in.

Three.

Four.

I pulled back for a second. The head of my cock didn't come out. I let Cruz breathe for a moment. Then I pushed all my shaft inside him, slowly, gently, cautiously.

"Man!" he said.

"You're okay?"

"Hell, yeah."

"Oh. Good."

I thrust in and out at a slow rhythm. Cruz hummed in acceptance of me being inside his body.

"Ohhhhh," I groaned near his ear. "I like being in you."

"It feels good, Mitch. Fuck me. Fuck me however you want."

I increased the speed of my rhythm.

"Ohhh, yeah!" he called out.

"Oh, babe. This is nice. Ungh. Ungh."

"God! Yes!" he called out, a little louder than I would have preferred.

I wriggled my hands under his body to feel his nipples beneath him. My full weight was placed on his back. My cock continued to thrust deep in him.

"FUCK ME!" he screamed.

"Shhh." I kissed his neck. "I love how it feels inside you."

And I did. It was an ass, so it wasn't that different from Vaughan, but Cruz' body was still distinct in subtle ways. I was closer to his ear. I panted and grunted as I continued to shove my steel erection into his ass. I kissed his cheek when he turned the right way. He groaned at my thrusts. I grunted when I felt that I had penetrated him deeply.

"Fuuuuccck," he moaned.

I pulled my hands out from under him and gripped his arms. I kissed his neck. My grunting got louder. My dick was throbbing inside my boyfriend. It was electronic. He pushed his ass up to force my cock to feel like I was forging deeper.

"Cruz. Oh, man. I feel so fucking good inside you."

"Keep fucking me." He groaned. "I'm so glad you're fucking me. I love you inside me."

I got back on my elbows and thrust hard.

"Oh yeah," I called out.

"Oh yeah," he echoed.

Words ceased. I just made groans and growls as the sensations in my groin escalated. It had been so long since my last time making love this way. I was reaming Cruz' ass now. I was pounding it. I was afraid I was too rough, but I couldn't stop. His groans and screams only furthered my drive — and my surging pleasure.

"Cruz. Oh, Cruz. Oh, yeah. Cruz. Cruz!"

"Come in me, Mitchell!"

"OH. FUCK! YEAH!"

I surprised myself with how loud I was in my orgasm. It was a murderous scream as I pumped all I could into my boyfriend's interior. Cum felt like it was releasing in fiery blasts. It felt like a dragon unleashing inside my boyfriend.

"Give me all of it," he whimpered.

And then my orgasm stopped. My strength left me, and my body collapsed on his.

"Ohh, Mitchell. Mitchell. Thank you. I'm so glad you were my first. I love you."

Again, I didn't know if saying it back, particularly after plowing my cock into him, would diminish its sincerity. As I kept gently thrusting my dick inside him, I asked myself if I did indeed love Cruz. We had been together for two months. He was important to me. I cared for him deeply. Was that love? Was I there? Were WE there?

"I'm glad I was your first too. Thank you, baby. Thank you for doing that for me. For us."

"Hopefully it won't be the last time," he mumbled, turning his face back into the pillow.

"Let's take care of you."

I pulled my still rigid — and red — cock from his hole. The mango fragrance of the lube disguised any lingering funk smell of being inside him. Still, I got a washcloth to clean my penis and his ass.

"What would you like? Hand job? Blowjob? How can I please you?"

"I guess after you come, it's not a good idea to have someone fuck you."

"Not impossible, but ... yeah, you lose some will there." I looked into Cruz' brown eyes. "But please know. I want you inside me. We'll fuck the other way soon."

"Sounds good." We kissed. "I'll settle for a blowjob right now. Your mouth on my cock has always been incredible."

"Privacy in college was sort of tricky. But we still managed to ... well, fuck about once a week. It was my turn after Thanksgiving. By Christmas break, I knew Cruz was the better bottom."

"When you went your separate ways for a few weeks for the holidays, was it hard being apart?"

"Very much so."

It was the quietest we had ever made love. It was all but silent. My cum had been fired deep inside my boyfriend. Our position to fuck was on our sides. When I came, he was jerking his own erection fiercely. Cruz' orgasms were something to behold. His cum shot over the bed and onto the rug.

"Think Miguel will notice?"

"Hopefully when I wash it off, it will dry before he gets back."

"It's nice that he gives us time every now and then."

"It is. He's a great best friend."

"Do you two ever talk about sex?"

"Not much. He has an occasional question now and then. I even ask him things about women from time to time."

"Does he sleep around?"

"I've known him to have sex with two girls. Neither of us really ask each other for details. It would probably gross both of us out."

I giggled.

Before we got out of his bed to clean up, I pulled his body back into my chest.

"I'm going to miss you," I whispered into his ear.

"Me too."

"I love you, Cruz."

He turned to me to look me deep in the eyes.

"That's the first time you've said it."

"To anyone," I said. "I've wanted to say it for a long time, but only if I was the first to say it. I didn't just want to repeat it back. I'm sorry if you thought I didn't feel the same when you said it to me."

He melted into my body.

"I love us together."

Then he jolted. He quickly got a wash rag and wiped his cum from the rug and the sheets. He handed it to me to wipe down my cock.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah. No. I don't know."

"Hey, what's wrong?"

He sat at the edge of the bed, both of us still naked.

"I'm worried. I love you, Mitch. What if ... what if my family ... ruins it?"

"How?"

"What if they forbid it?"

"You'll be 21 in a couple of years. They can't control your life."

"You don't know my family. With us, family is everything. You don't disobey your parents." He stood. "Gah! How can I ever tell them?"

"About you? Or us?"

"Is there a difference?!"

"Right," I softly said.

"I told him I loved him before we went home for Christmas break. He was glad to hear it, but maybe it made things more serious. We both had deep feelings, and he began to worry about coming out to his parents."

"Oh, not a good situation there?" Logan asked.

"No. Very Catholic, very anti-gay. Super religious."

"A shame. It's sad that people don't realize that there isn't a choice in the matter."

"In their minds, I think, there was a choice. It was a choice to not be yourself. To hide it. To ignore it. To ... live a sad life never knowing love."

"You two seemed great together. How did – how did it end?"

"How were your holidays?" I asked, enjoying being wrapped in Cruz's arms.

"Hard."

"Hard?"

"Yeah. I hated being away from you. I hated not being able to talk about you. I hated not being able to ... be ME."

"That sucks."

"Yeah. I mean, the holidays were good. I loved being with my family for the most part, but the simplest things reminded me about you, and I just wanted to tell them about us and how happy I am that we are in love and..."

"That wasn't a possibility though."

"No. Not yet." He sighed. "Every time a text came in, I rushed to see if it was from you. Even one of my sisters started noticing. I'm sure it was out of character for me. I wasn't myself."

We hadn't even sat down. We stood there kissing for a long moment.

"I love you," he whispered.

"I love you back."

"We were so in love, or as in love as someone almost 21 and 20 can be. Things were good unless he thought about his family. When I was on the phone with my parents, they wanted to talk to him too. He loved that. He loved the support of my parents. It was a different family for him. Cruz got so ... envious of me. I really think he started going down a dark place."

"Did it affect the relationship?"

"Not exactly. We were still great. GREAT. But ... I worried about him. The two of us were fine, but he wasn't fine. He was just wrestling with so much. That semester, I could tell he was struggling more in school."

Logan jotted notes on the pad. Damn him.

I had no idea why I did it, but I got up from the chair and moved to the couch. I thought it was weird, but it was more comfortable. I stared at the ceiling in Logan's office. A stray cobweb in the corner drifted in and out being blown by the air-conditioning. It surprised me that the A/C was still turned on, but the afternoons were still rather warm even though summer was over.

I really hadn't thought about Cruz in a long time. It may have been years, other than a Christmas card I still sent. Deep down inside me, there was still a bit of love for him that remained. Nothing like Cooper, but ... Cruz was my first true deep love.

"Mitchell?"

"Hm? Oh. Sorry. Got lost in thought." I paused. "I loved him, Logan. I really did. I had real feelings for Vaughan, but there was something about Cruz. Had fate worked in our favor, I think the two of us could be happy."

"As in forever?"

"As in ... yeah. The thought of being married to Cruz — the person he was then —he would have been a great husband."

"I love that I am going to your home again."

We had been in the car fifteen minutes.

"I'm glad too. My parents like you."

"I'm so sorry that I can't do the same with mine."

"Well, a two-hour drive is much easier than a flight to New Mexico."

"You know what I mean."

It was the weekend before Valentine's Day. As far as romantic gestures went, going to see one's parents was sort of a wet blanket.

"It's not very exciting for Valentines Day."

"That's still a few days away. We'll be back on campus."

"Think Miguel will give us the room?"

"I was ... I was wondering if maybe you could ask your roommate?"

"Oh." Cruz and I had never fucked in my bed. I gave him a blowjob there twice in the fall, and he sucked me off one afternoon in January, but it was always when Wes was in class. It was always less than 40 minutes. "Maybe."

"Wes knows about us."

"Yeah. We aren't super-tight, but we're good enough friends to be open about things."

"When I've eaten with you guys, he seems nice."

"He is. I'll ask."

—

"I can't believe you are doing this with your parents down the hall," Cruz whispered.

"I can be a master of silent sex if I want to be."

I began slowly withdrawing my cock and returning with a gentle thrust. In the past three months, I had learned to be impressed by Cruz as a bottom. Usually, I came at him from behind, which was his favorite. With him on his back facing me, it took a slight bit of maneuvering on his part. He loved just taking my dick the other way — just being a lump on the bed.

An adorable lump.

A fuckable, adorable lump.

But I wanted to look at him tonight. I loved staring into his eyes as I fucked him. People typically don't think of brown eyes as alluring, but Cruz's had flecks of gold in them. The more time I spent with him, the more looking into his eyes captivated me.

Neither of us said anything.

My dick thrust in and out of his hole as his hands on my hips guided me, held me, aroused me.

"I love you," I breathed into the night air.

"I love you, Mitchell," he mouthed back.

We smiled at each other, becoming lost in the hypnotic trance of our romantic fuck.

My dick thrust in and out of his hole as his hands raised to feel my chest, squeezing hair between his fingers. I loved that.

"Thank you for doing this quietly," I whispered.

"Seriously? Thank you for fucking me. You know I love your long dick inside me."

I lunged forward, pressing my lips to his. We kissed gently, tenderly, silently. Our lips pulled apart and our breath delivered a feathery touch to each other's cheek.

My dick thrust in and out of his hole as his hands reached up to run his fingers through my hair.

"Harder," he said, inaudibly, except for me.

I nodded. I smiled. I kissed him again.

My dick thrust in and out of his hole as I worked faster and harder and deeper, as his hands fondled his own balls and stroked his cock. It had lost some of its rigidness, but he had it stiff again in no time. Both of us struggled to remain silent. My erection inside him was feeling euphoric. I can tell the stimulation with his fist on his hard-on and my own meat exciting his hole and interior were a one-two punch of sexual deliciousness.

"You feel so good inside me. I love you so much, Mitchell," he quietly moaned.

"I love you, Cruz. I love fucking you. I love everything about us."

Which wasn't true. I hated that he couldn't be open with his parents, but I forbid those thoughts to ruin the moment.

My dick thrust in and out of his hole as his fist violently stroked and pounded and jerked and assaulted his cock.

Both of us panted. We were gasping for air.

"I'm about..."

My dick thrust in and out of his hole as cum erupted inside my boyfriend. I kept shoving and pushing my cock deeper and deeper into him as if there was suddenly more length to offer. His ass was being rammed in my orgasm, and I refused to stop even when the ejaculation had.

"Don't stop," he panted.

My dick thrust in and out of his hole as my neck strained, forcing it to not lose an iota of its stiffness. I whimpered as my genitals had nothing left to offer, but the retreat of my erection wasn't an option. I kept fucking. I kept pushing. I kept gasping.

"Ohhhhhh," he breathed.

I felt Cruz's firehouse blast me in the navel. Like a Vegas fountain show, it just burst above his cock, hitting me time and time again. I didn't want him to stop. The feel of warm liquid hitting my body was transcendent. It made me want to continue to fuck more, to fuck harder, to fuck forever.

"Yeah. Forever. I could see us that way. Particularly back then."

"You say then. Could you not see the two of you as a couple now?"

"I just don't know. I mean, college was eons ago, so we've matured. We're two different people in so many respects. Who knows how we would have changed? Who knows what mistakes we might have made?"

"What is the most vivid memory of him?"

Cruz had come in my mouth, but he didn't stop his oral service on me. We hadn't performed sex in a 69 position in months. My fingers brushed through his tousled hair. His mouth and throat and soul engulfed my rod, bobbing as best he could on his side. I rolled onto my back to make it easier. His mouth followed my body never letting my cock escape from his lips.

He sucked harder. I couldn't tell if my sound was more of a moan or a squeal. Cruz was building my climax inside me. I was there. My hips raised. Cruz knew my body language by now. He knew I was about to unleash cum. His mouth stayed on my dick.

I came. My spurts released into his throat, and he took it all. I listened to him moan as he felt it coat his tongue. The vibrations reverberated through my organ.

Cruz pulled off of me and inhaled a huge influx of oxygen.

"Oh man," I breathed.

"Happy Valentine's Day," he said.

There wasn't much of anything to clean up. An occasion drip from our cocks would touch our legs, but he turned around to find his way into my arms.

"I'm glad Wes gave us the room," Cruz said. "All night?"

"I'm not sure, but I think so. >From what I could tell, he and his girlfriend had found a place — a friend's house or something — to do ... well, what we did. I think they are there all night."

"Should we put something on just in case?"

"Nah. I want to stay naked with you. He's seen me before. I've seen him. I don't care."

Cruz went quiet for a while.

"Mitchell. I love you so much. I've been thinking."

He paused.

"About...?"

"I'm going to tell my parents."

My body jolted up.

"You're going to come out to them?!"

"Yeah. I know how I feel. I can't just ... I love you. I can't ignore that. I can't live my life in a hole, in the dark, in the closet. It's killing me."

"You know I'm not pressuring you to do anything."

"Of course. You're perfect. I know you are fine with me taking things at my own pace."

Perfect. Perfect?

"Perfect? I'm far from perfect, baby."

"You are to me."

"The most vivid memory of him? Jeez, I have so many. Me saying `I love you' for the first time and him saying it to me. Him calling me perfect." Logan smirked. "But sadly, when it comes to vivid, it ... it was the night he called it off. Called us off."

"Elaborate."

"Over Valentine's Day, he had done some heavy thinking. He was in emotional conflict. He wanted to be himself, but he was so afraid of coming out to his family. We made love, and he told me he had made the commitment to do it. He was hesitant, and he tried a couple of times and backed off, but by the end of February, he did it. I was in the room with him."

"H – h – hi, Mom. ... Good. How are you? ... Uh huh. Uh huh ... Oh. Nice."

I watched Cruz's hands trembling. He could barely hold his cell phone. My heart ached for him. I knew he wanted to find the right time, but he wasn't sensing it.

"Hey, Mom. I – I – I wanted to tell you something. It's kind – kind of important. ... Yeah. No, I'm fine. I just ... Mom, I want you to know ... I've wanted to tell you for some time, but ..."

A tear went down his cheek. He was dying inside. I moved next to him to hold his hand. He clutched my hand in a death grip.

"Mom, just listen ... I want you to know that ... I'm gay. I always have been."

I heard a voice but couldn't make out any words.

"Yes, Mom, I AM sure. Trust me. I am. I just ... just thought you should know. It's important to me for you to know who I truly am. The real me."

Cruz's body language was tense. It didn't seem to be going horribly, but it wasn't going well.

"Please listen, Mom. It's not going to change `someday.' It's not a phase. I'm gay."

The voice got louder. I still couldn't make it out. I even wondered if some of the words I heard were in Spanish.

"N – no, don't get Dad. I ..." He went silent. "Uck." Silence. "H – h – hi, Dad. ... No, she was correct. I am. I am gay, Dad."

Another tear escaped. The tone of his father's voice was harsh.

"Dad. ... Dad, just listen. I've always been this ... Dad. I AM. It's not like I can just decide to change. ... I wanted you to know because it's important to me. I love you and want you to know the real me. I ..."

The phone went silent. His parents hung up on him.

Cruz cried in front of me. I had never seen that.

"I'm sorry, baby," I whispered. "I'm so sorry. Just give them time. They'll come around."

My boyfriend buried his face into my shoulder. "No, they won't," he whimpered. "I'm fucked."

I held him. Suddenly the floodgates opened, and he cried. I knew I couldn't say anything to make it better. I just held him.

—

Three weeks after Cruz had told his parents, it was spring break. We were away for a week. I sent him texts during the break, but he didn't return them. He didn't answer my calls either. I feared it was NOT a good sign.

Upon our return to the university, I knocked on his door. Miguel answered. He turned to look at Cruz, who was sitting on the bed. His face looked at mine. I could see his eyes were red. Upon seeing me, he burst into tears.

I rushed to hold him in my arms. He squeezed me tight. Cruz started sobbing uncontrollably.

"Hey, hey, hey," I said, rocking him in my arms. "I'm here. I'm here."

"My life is over," he sobbed.

"No. No. I've got you. I'm here."

"My parents are letting me finish this semester, but they are making me come home and only attend a local college next year."

"But ..."

"It's worse," he said, cutting me off. "They made me promise to not do anything with another male."

"How can you do that?? You're gay!"

"They made me promise to not do anything."

"Cruz! You're gay. We love each other!"

"I know. I actually told them about you and how much I'm in love with you and that you're the most important thing in my life and that ... we'd made love."

The room went silent. Cruz pulled himself from me.

"I – I – I have to break up with you. I promised I would."

"But we love each other!!!"

"I know. I do love you. I do. But ... they're my family. I had to promise them in order to come back and finish the semester."

My heart had a spear through it. "But ..." I whimpered. "That can't be. I love you. How can I let you go?"

"You have to. I – I can't be in love with you anymore," he cried.

"But you are."

"I know," he whimpered. "This is hell, Mitchell. Please know it isn't what I want."

"But – but – but ... can't you just still love me and not tell them?"

"Do you want to love a liar?"

I surprised myself by suddenly bawling. It was unexpected. I looked at Miguel. He was crying also. He felt our pain.

"Spring was hell. He was forced by his family to break it off with us. We were over."

"But ... you still loved each other, right?"

"Yeah." I looked at Logan's ceiling again. I didn't realize my eyes had welled. I wiped a tear from one of them. "But he wouldn't answer my texts or take my calls. I would only see him from a distance for the last two months. It was hell."

"I'm sorry you had to go through that. Did the two of you ever speak again?"

"Yes, we did."

I had been home for four days. Summer was going to be an opportunity to forget Cruz. I wasn't looking for a summer hookup. I didn't think anyone could live up to him.

I stared at my phone. I wasn't going to text. I was just going to call. I dialed his number.

It rang. He probably wouldn't answer.

It rang. He probably wouldn't answer.

It rang. He answered!!!

"Oh, thank God you called."

"You answered!"

"I did. When I got home, my parents took my phone and purged every single contact in it."

"Wow. I'm amazed they let you keep the same number."

"For sure. I thought I would remember your number, but I tried and tried. I must have only known some of the numbers or not the sequence. I can't believe I didn't know it by heart."

"Cell phones just let you program numbers. No one remembers anything anymore."

"True. My parents bought me that one just to have it at college. I'm not sure how long cell phones will stick around."

We were silent a moment. I wanted to say I still loved him every bit as much as I always had.

"It's good to hear your voice. I miss you so much."

"I think of you every day, Mitch. Every. Day. I will never forget you."

"Maybe I will get to see you again."

"No. I'm not going to be going back. I'm stuck here."

"I don't know what to say, Cruz."

"I know. It sucks. I – I – I just want you to know that I hope you find someone else to love. You're a good person. Find someone who is FUCKING allowed to be in love with you."

"This isn't fair."

"No, it's not. Hey, I will write your number down. I'll always have it. Text me from time to time. Even if you have to tell me you found someone else."

My face twisted in pain. Life wasn't playing fair. This was a raw deal for both of us.

"We never saw each other again. For a few years after school, I would call. When he was 24, he moved out. He now has a partner. I guess. I haven't talked to him in a while. He got out from under his parents' domineering restrictions. He found a new person there in New Mexico. I think he's happy. I still send him a Christmas card. I haven't spoken with him in a couple of years. He made it out to be on his own ... who he really is. That's the important thing."

"That was still a traumatic time for you. Even if you were young, that had to hurt."

"It did. By the end of the summer, the pain had lessened. I mean, I still loved him to a certain degree, but my brain had done its job in accepting what I couldn't change."

"Good. Good. I'm sorry you had to go through it though."

"Yeah."

"You've shared a lot today. Our time is up, but I think we've dug deep here."

"I'll say. I'm kind of drained."

"Does it feel good to share? How do you feel about talking about it?"

"I don't think I ever have like this. I sort of bottled that all up inside. I guess I figured the grown-up thing to do was to move on."

"Never bottle things up. They fester that way. Talk to somebody, anybody."

"But then you become Debbie Downer. No one wants to spend time with you."

"You don't have to let your feelings dominate every conversation. If friends are friends, they'll want to know why you're hurting."

"Hmm. That's never been me." Logan had given me a lot to think about. "Okay. I'll see you next week."

We shook hands. If we were at a bar, we would have hugged.

I walked to my car in a fog.

—

Plates were put in the dishwasher.

After my conversation from my session with Logan, I couldn't get Cruz out of my mind. I scrolled through my contacts. I assumed his number was still active. Should I call?

I put on a jacket and headed outside. The temperature was still low 60s, but the wind had a nip.

As I strolled the neighborhood, I began to think about the session with Logan. I hadn't really thought about Dominik, Vaughan and Cruz in ages. When things ended with Vaughan, it was easy. With Cruz, it was excruciating. I spent that summer getting over him. Was it possible to somehow try the same methods to get over Cooper? I was much younger then, but ... damn, I loved Cruz. I managed to get over him in time. Maybe there was hope for me to get past my breakup with Cooper. My session today gave me a spark of hope.

It was an hour earlier in New Mexico. It would only be 8:15 there.

I dialed.

Would Cruz pick up? Would he want to hear from me? Was I just part of the past to block out?

He answered!!

"Mitchell?"

"Hi, Cruz. It's me."

"This is a surprise."

"I hope one that's okay."

"Well, sure."

"How are you? Are you still...?"

"Yes. Carlos and I are still together."

"Married yet?"

"Ha. Hardly. It took my parents five years to even come over to our house."

"You don't have to live their life. You have your own life."

"We come from different worlds, Mitch."

"I'm sorry. Of course. I'm glad you two are still doing well."

"And you? Are you and the Cooper fellow still a thing?"

I sighed. "Actually, no."

"Oh, I'm sorry. I thought you really loved him."

"I did. I really did. And ... I screwed it up."

"Uh-oh."

"I cheated on him."

Cruz was silent.

"I'm not sure what to say, Mitchell."

"You don't have to say anything. I've owned up to my mistakes. We tried to make it work, but he couldn't trust me like he felt he should."

There was an awkward silence again.

"Why did you call me, Mitch?"

"I'm sorry that this is a clumsy beginning. To be honest, I'm in therapy trying to get over the breakup. I'm not handling it well. You came up during my session today, so I was just thinking about you."

"I guess that's nice. I didn't have any deep-rooted cause for you to be in therapy, did I?"

I laughed. "No. That wasn't it."

He chuckled. "Thank goodness."

"But I did share how hard it was for us to say goodbye. Our love was very strong."

"It was. To this day, I still feel horrible for the pain I made you feel."

"It wasn't your decision."

"It still wasn't fair to you."

"I hope it is okay to say a part of you will always be in my heart."

"I feel the same."

For ten minutes we talked about things in our cities. He shared a recent trip he and his partner had taken. He talked about the puppy they just brought home. I told him about a big account at work. I asked if he still kept in touch with Miguel. He did, although Miguel lived in Phoenix.

We didn't have a lot in common anymore, but it was still nice to hear each other's voices.

"We should talk more often," Cruz said.

"I'd like that. I love you, Cruz."

"I love you too, Mitchell."

We said goodbye and hung up.

I went to bed feeling better.

* * * *

Email is always welcome: timothylane414@gmail.com

Look for a new post, "Cruz," on the blog: timothylane414stories.blogspot.com