Space Ship Boys

Here is the newest chapter in my epic gay space soap opera, hope you like. I have to say, it's my favorite thus far, although I admit I am biased. As always, comments and feedback appreciated at erikritler@yahoo.com. I always respond to emails. Usually I suggest using the find function in your browser to search for xes, which will skip you to the hotter scenes. This chapter, however, is pretty much all hotness, so you'll just have to, uh, plow through it this time.

I have to apologize that this chapter took a while. I hit a little writer's block with the third section. Also, I started dating, or trying to date, and that is, as one might imagine, distracting. Don't worry, I promise to continue writing about Devon and company until we reach the end, which I can say won't be for a little while yet. And I promise to try and balance keeping the chapters coming with my own personal search for, well, maybe for my own Devon. Not sure where to find him, but looking for him is half the fun.

To recap the story so far, Devon is a sarcastic college kid who finds himself on a space ship on an 18-year voyage to a new home planet after the destruction of earth. The mass majority of the passengers on Devon's ship are from the boy's college he attended. Devon slowly realizes he's gay, and he works to come to terms with this. He confides his sexuality to his best friend Patrick, who is very open and accepting of it. Devon asks Patrick to talk to his other best friend Reid, but that doesn't seem to go so well and the two become rather estranged.

Devon replaces Reid with a new close friend, Conner, and a new sex buddy, Charlie. Charlie eventually convinces Devon that they should form a jerk off club, partially to meet other gay guys and partially for fun. They arrange an evening with the innocent and twinkish Mike, the sexy and boisterous slacker Zane, and a couple Devon happens to know to be wank buddies, Sean and Dog. Things go well and the poker night produces the desired results – becoming a wank club that meets regularly on Fridays. Things are going pretty well for Devon – he's young, gay, and he's starting to forge some really great friendships, some sexual and some not.

And that brings us up to chapter eight. Enjoy!

Space Ship Boys

Chapter 8 – Quite A Lot Of Sex, Actually (or: Everything But the Plot Thickens)

i

One night, for no particular reason, the bad dreams return.

I'm standing outside a large glass window. It's night, and the air is cool and damp against my skin. It's actually a little uncomfortably cold. Charlie and Mike are looking at me from the other side of the glass, smiling at me. Their smiles are affectionate and inviting; inside it looks warm and comfortable. I know that I'm dreaming, and I sense that it's about to become a really good one. Zane steps up beside them and smiles at me too.

I smile back, but something's wrong. I haven't moved, but the window is farther away that it was a second ago. I take a step forward, and it seems ever farther still. This doesn't make any sense, and I look down at the grass in confusion. When I look back up, Reid and Patrick have joined my other friends at the window and they look a little concerned. I can't understand why, but the window is moving away.

I feel like they must be playing a trick on me, somehow making the room do that, and any moment they'll stop it so that I can join them. It doesn't feel so cold anymore. I turn around, looking towards the source of the warmth and see that there is a fire on the horizon. It's moving closer.

Now I'm trying to get to the room in earnest, but I can't get closer. My friends are calling to me, but they're pulling further and further away. The fire consumes everything behind me and grows huge and terrifying. Charlie is crying and Zane is beating on the glass. I'm running, but they are pulling up into the sky and I'm left alone on the ground. It's scorching outside now, and I spin around in terror. The fire storm is upon me. I look back and reach out to no avail. I see them disappear into the distance as I'm consumed in flame, screaming in agony.

I snap awake a sit up in my bed. Jesus fucking christ, that was a bad one. I'm soaked in sweat – completely – and I'm actually crying, tears streaming down my cheeks. My chest is heaving and I feel like I may be about to have as asthma attack. If you've never had a dream that's so bad you wake up crying, I can tell you that it's not a pleasant experience. God dammit, I thought I was over these stupid nightmares.

I take a moment to get my bearings. Everyone else is still asleep, so I figure that at least I didn't scream in terror in the `real world'. Reid is in the top bunk directly across from me, he looks like he's in a deep slumber. I can also see Patrick, lying on his back on the lower bunk of the back wall. Nick is in the bunk below Reid and is facing away from me. Jacob sleeps under me, but I can't see him. Everything is quiet, so I guess I didn't wake anyone. Not sure how.

The dream has really thrown me, maybe because it was a really bad one, or maybe because I hadn't had them in a while. The details are becoming fuzzy. I don't remember quite what all happened, but I remember burning and being afraid and alone. My nerves are fried and about seven gallons of adrenaline feel like they're churning in my bloodstream. I'm still crying a little, but I try to keep it quiet.

I hop out of bed and head out to the living room. There's no way I'm going back to sleep for a while.

I really want to talk all of a sudden. Sometimes I get that way after a terrorizing dream. I just don't want to be alone. I consider waking Patrick up. He wouldn't mind, he's one of my greatest confidants and would be more than willing to get up in the middle of the night to listen to my silliness. It would be great to sit out here and talk for a while, but I decide to let him sleep. He and Reid have been working on some extra projects lately, and I knew they'd had some late nights. Patrick would be more than happy to listen if I needed to talk, but I put a lot on him as a friend and I wanted to give him a break just this once.

It would be nice if I were still talking to Reid. We were still in the awkward end stage of a friendship where we weren't talking, but we were still curt with one another. Well, we had to live together, so even though I was pissed about how things had turned out, that's how it goes, I guess.

I duck back into our room for a second, sneaking across the floor and over to my table, where I've left my wristcom. The light sounds of four sleeping boys fill the room, and I feel a slight pang of annoyance that four of my good friends are within feet of me but they're all unavailable. I grab the com and a set of clothes I'd chucked on the floor and sneak back out of the room.

I sit on the couch and put the wristcom on. As soon as it's strapped into place, it comes to life, the faint blue glow of the screen slightly illuminating the darkened living quarters. I don't know why I turned it on – it's 3:45 in the morning and no one will be awake. I could ring any of my other friends, like Zane or Conner, but that would wake them up, and I don't want to be that high maintenance. Still, I hit the buddy icon on the screen. As expected, the list of names all show in light grey, indicating the coms are all inactive.

Except one name shows in black, meaning the person is wearing their com and it's on. Mike Albers is up. Hmm, I wonder why he's awake?

I point the wristcom at the table and hit the keyboard icon. A holographic keypad appears, and once set in place becomes a little more solidly defined on the flat surface of the table. I type a message to Mike: "Hey, what are you doing up in the middle of the night?"

It takes a moment for him to respond, and in that time I consider that he might not be awake. He could have fallen asleep wearing the com, in which case he'd show as active. Or he might be busy. Maybe he's on some weird graveyard shit detail. But eventually he does write back.

"Could ask you the same. Thought I'd check something out this morning. What are you up to?" A blue box appears above my keypad, Mike's words scrolling on the holographic screen. It's a flat projected image on the table, and as long as I don't go more than twenty feet away it stays in place no matter how I move my wristcom. Pretty cool.

"Couldn't sleep," I reply, "and now I'm up. Everyone else snoozing. Boring here."

"Want to hang and see something really cool?"

I smile to myself, looks like I don't have to spend the morning alone after all. I don't know Mike too terribly well. I mean, yeah, he was in the wank off club and we'd met twice since our initial gathering, each time ending with about the same results, and he was becoming a close friend, but we weren't quite at that stage where I'd unload all my angst on him. Still, spending time with an ok friend was way better than being alone at this point, so I text a positive response.

"Cool. Meet me in commons lobby, 15 min. Over by the restaurant."

I grab a pair of sandals from a closet and leave the flat. The rest of the ship is set to night as well, so the hallways are dark and cool. I like night on the ship, actually. It's quiet, and it can be relaxing.

Walking through the forward concourse, the smell of dirt and new grass is in the air. We'd begun expanding the plant life throughout the ship and this area had received a lot of attention. Although the commons, which was comprised of the lobby and the three concourses, had a lot of open and `wasted' space, the designers still strove for efficiency in everything they put on this ship. Different types of vines had been planted in boxes that ran along the walls. Some of the varieties grew quickly – the bougainvillea was already creeping like six feet up the wall. Some day almost all of the wall space in here would be covered in plants. There had also been a lot of new trees put in. The concourse was tall, so it was well suited to act as an arbor. They'd planted a lot of eucalyptus in here, and now each time I walked through here the tangy scent reminded me of home. Usually fondly, but this morning it was making me a little sad. I missed San Diego something bad.

The commons lobby was completely deserted. None of the shifts worked from 2 to 5 am, and although there were often guys wandering around here at all hours I was the only one tonight. Well, me and Mike, who as promised was waiting over by the empty restaurant. It was next to the entrance to the tunnel that led to the rear observation deck, which was lit as it always was, the white light shining off the carved deco motifs of the proscenium arch. We called it an empty restaurant, but the truth was that it was an empty space that had been designed to one day possibly act as a restaurant. There were many such spaces throughout the commons – storefronts that might one day be clothing shops or offices. As we settled down these places would come into use, but for now our under-populated ship was more than sufficiently served by the huge cafeteria space up in the command section.

Mike smiled at me warmly. He seemed well awake for four am. He was dressed in a pair of blue denim overalls, which struck me as an odd choice, particularly since he wasn't wearing a shirt underneath. They hung low on his chest, revealing his skinny tan arms. As always, he was also wearing his beaded necklace, which I always thought looked a little more than cute on him.

"Hey, you came. You must really not be able to sleep. It's pretty late, or early," he says.

"Yeah, you know, Reid snores," I lie. Having someone around is enough to calm me down, and all of a sudden I don't really feel like I need to talk about my nightmare anymore.

Mike rolls his eyes. "I know what you mean. My roommate Erich does too. ALL THE TIME."

We laugh and chat about roommates for a bit. Mike looks at his wristcom.

"Oh, we'd better get going. So what I want to show you is a surprise, but it's cool, I promise. But I have to tell you, it's back in the engine section and it may be, hmm, well it may be a little intense. I'll warn you in advance."

I'm intrigued. "Cool, hey I'm up for anything. Lead the way."

Mike smiles, clearly happy to have some company for whatever he was up to this morning. He hops out of his seat and leads me across the back side of the lobby. We come upon the large steel doors that separate the living areas of the ship from the rest. About a full third of the vessel is taken up by the massive fusion engines, and there is a complicated network of access tunnels and engineering sections in the rear of the ship. You need a keycard to get into these areas, but Mike has one, being assigned to the engineering squad.

He slides his card in the slot and the doors whoosh open. A slight breeze greets us, and the air inside smells a little like plastic. Everything back here is pressurized and the atmosphere is maintained, but without the plants or people or constant usage the air gets a little stale.

Mike leads the way and I follow. We don't say much, but I'm intrigued by everything back here. I haven't been to these parts of the ship and everything seems so different from the livable areas. At one point we cross a thin catwalk that sits about five hundred feet in the air, large mechanisms turning and pumping away below us. Mike fearlessly bounds over the narrow path. I pause for a second before stepping out on the platform. I'm not scared of heights or anything, but we're fucking high up. Mike looks over his shoulder and smiles at me, jerking his head in a motion that I take to mean `c'mon, silly.' I smile back uncertainly and follow him. His overalls come down far enough on his back that I can see the line that separates the muscles of his upper back, and I find this helps me muster the courage.

The air seems to hum in this section of the ship, and I find it to be a pleasant sound. I kind of expect it to smell like oil and grease and burning wood back here, but it mostly just smells like a new car, not at all unpleasant. And yes, I am aware that fusion engines don't run on burning wood. I just thought it would smell more, well, more industrial or something.

Eventually we come to a door marked `DIAGNOSTICS 2A' and Mike leads me into a small white room. It's about ten foot square with a computer console on one end with several panels of blinking green lights. The rest is empty. Well, if this is what we're here to see, I'm not that impressed.

"Hmm, yeah," I state sarcastically, "this is pretty dang awesome Mike."

He rolls his eyes at me. Sometimes I dig at the guy just to get his to do that. He has awesome brown eyes and they are cuter than heck when he rolls them at me.

"Not just the room, dummy," he glances down at his watch, "Cool, two minutes. Ok, so here's the deal. You know how the engines are firing today?"

"Yeah?" I did know. The two huge Rolls Royce fusion engines fired infrequently – after all, once you were gliding along in space you maintained a pretty constant speed. Still, every once in a while they were fired up to bring us up to speed or to slow us down, or maybe to change course. It was always announced when this was happening, although the artificial gravity throughout the ship adjusted so that you couldn't feel any acceleration. Well, most people couldn't. Like one percent of the population could sense it – like an inner ear thing or something – and they said it made them a little nauseous, the artificial gravity fighting against the force of acceleration.

"Cool. Well, I discovered this a while back. Here, take off your shoes." Mike unlaces his black work boots and pulls them off, tossing them across the room into a corner. I follow suit, flinging my sandals in the same general area. "So, when the engines fire, it's gonna get kind of awesome in here. But don't worry, it won't hurt you. I asked Dr. Moreno about it. The acceleration is still dampened, but it'll get really shaky. Here, stand in the middle of the room."

Mike moved to the center of the room and spread his arms out in an upside down v-shape. I did the same, rather uncertainly, not completely sure if I really should have followed him down here. It's going to get shaky? What the heck does that mean?

Mike's watch beeps, which I assume means it's too late for me to bow out of this. The green lights on the console click and switch ominously to red one at a time. The low hum that's been buzzing since we entered this section of the ship spools up and begins to grow louder and louder. Something in the back of my head snaps in faint recollection, and although I can't remember the details, something about this seems related to my dream. My heart beats a little faster and I feel the first tingling of panic building in my stomach. I look at Mike, a little wild-eyed, I'm sure.

The hum is now loud – super loud. I can feel it in my chest and in my head. It doesn't hurt my ears like a rock concert or anything, but I feel like my entire body is being penetrated by the lowest of low registers in the bass spectrum. Mike sees the concern posted all over my face. "DON'T WORRY," he yells, but I can barely hear him, "IT'S JUST GOING TO SHAKE A BIT NOW! HOLD ON!!!"

I consider that someone yelling `hold on' isn't exactly the best choice of words if they don't want you to worry, especially if you're standing in an empty room where there is, in fact, nothing to hold on to. But before I get too far into this line of thought, the engines fire.

I'm not really sure that `shake a bit' is the best way to describe what it's like to stand in here with the engines going. It's actually not really like shaking at all, which would be what I'd call us being thrown all over the place. But we're not thrown everywhere. Instead, everything starts to vibrate. I mean REALLY vibrate.

I feel like I'm in the biggest massage chair of all time. The whole room is pulsating at an extraordinary speed. I can feel the floor under my feet jittering back and forth. I look over to Mike, and discover that we're vibrating so much that everything in here looks blurry. The images on the computers seem to jump from side to side, sometimes giving the illusion that they're actually stepping outside the edge of the screens. My insides are being completely jittered all over the place. Oddly, the vibrating seems to do something to the sound of the engines and it feels totally quiet in here. I open my mouth to note this to Mike, but no words come out. At first I think maybe my eardrums have burst, but I can still hear things, it's just like a bizarre whooshing sounds. Mike is smiling, maybe partly because he's enjoying this and maybe partly because he sees that it's freaking me out a little.

After a couple of minutes the engines subside and the vibrations stop. My body is tingling all over. I feel like someone threw me in a barrel full of gravel and rolled me down Mount Everest. Well, except that this does feel kind of good. My skin is prickling and itching a little, and my organs feel like they've all been shaken into new places within my body. I take a step and the muscles of my legs give a little, as if they're in such a relaxed state they don't work that well any more.

"Pretty cool, huh?" Mike grins at me. I shake my head, trying to regain my bearing a little. It's like he's just taken me on one of the greatest amusement park rides of all time.

I finally smile back. "Yeah. I mean, hell yeah! That was awesome! How did you find out about that?"

"I was on duty down here once and goofed off a little too long so I was here when the engines went. Freaked me out the first time too. I even went to the doctor, thinking I might have fried my insides or something. But Dr. Moreno checked me out then consulted one of the engineering guys. Nope, he said, you just got a bit of a shakeup, nothing to worry about."

"Well, it's pretty cool."

"Yeah. Oh hey," he exclaims, "They're about to fire again. This time a five minute burst. Um, this time, um, well, there's something else cool to try." Mike flushes a little and switches into what I call `shy Mike mode'. He walks over to the rear wall and I wonder what about the engines would make him blush, but I don't have to wait long to find out.

He unbuckles the snaps on his overalls and lets them fall to the floor. Now I'm blushing a little too. He's in a pair of red briefs, which are a little brazen for the cute and boyish Mike. He stands up against the wall, spreading out so that he has as much body contact with it as possible. "You don't have to do this too, but it's, uh, well it feels pretty awesome."

Hey, in for a penny in for a pound. I follow suit, keeping my clothes on and figuring I can take in the show without stripping off. Mike clears his throat and looks down at my jeans. I get the message. Apparently undies are necessary for this. Well, it's not like we haven't seen each other in underwear before. And naked. And erect. And cumming all over other guys. I unbutton my jeans and slide them off, throwing them in the pile. My shirt follows and I spread my body against the wall in similar fashion.

His watch beeps and the engines spool up again. This time I know what to expect (sort of) and feel considerably less nervous. The green console lights all flash red again and the bass noise fills the room. This time when the vibrating begins, it's about ten times as intense. My body feels like it's stuck to the wall, I'd expect to be thrown off, but I'm not and the increased contact is shaking me at an astonishing speed. It's like I'm in a martini shaker or something. I look over to Mike, and I can make out that he's smiling back to me, but he's somehow, hmm, blurry? Everything is vibrating so much that things seem to lose their definition. The consoles are weird grey blobs. The red lights looks like they are leaving trails of phosphorescence in the air, forming a hundred little squares dancing around the room. Mike is a blur of tan and brown and red.

I start to wonder how this works and why the vibrations are doing this, maybe it's a matter of...and then, oh my god, it starts to feel really good. I mean REALLY good. Suddenly my muscles all start to feel warm and flushed simultaneously, not unlike the feeling you get when you down a couple of shots really fast. And it seems like I can sense every single muscle of my body at the same time. Including the private ones, which are feeling particularly good.

I don't know if it was the intensity of the vibration or the frequency or what, but all of a sudden my balls and dick were vibrating in my shorts and it was like being jerked off in a thousand different directions. My knees get weak and I feel a strange throbbing pleasure from deep inside my abdomen. I consider that it must be my prostate (if I know my biology) or something. I reach down to adjust my shorts, and my cock goes hard instantly, tenting them to the utmost extreme. My groans are lost to the hum of the engines as my toes curl against the cool metal floor.

I look over at Mike again, and he's still blurry beyond description, but I can make out that he's watching me and smiling, and that his own red briefs are stretched tight. The little fucking bastard, he knew this was going to happen and he didn't warn me. Bravo for him. I smile back, the goofy lustful smile of a boy getting a really good, hmm, I guess you'd call it a massage. A REALLY erotic massage.

As promised, the engines fire for five full minutes, and they have me writhing by the end. I don't know if it's because I lost muscle control a little or if it was just that arousing, but it feels like all the precum in my entire body has been forced up my shaft and out of my body. I mean, there's so much that it's soaking through my shorts and dripping to the floor from the other side of the fabric. Likewise, I begin sweating copiously, a wet sheen covering my entire body.

When the engines stop I try and catch my breath, unsuccessfully. "God damn, ugh, Mike," I pant, "I mean, WOW!"

We're both covered in sweat, our boners tenting our underwear. Like me, Mike is leaking conspicuously, but since his erection curves up and out from his body it's pulling the elastic away from his waist so that you can peak at the alluring tan flesh below. He smiles, also panting, but doesn't say anything. His brown eyes seem to consider something for a moment, and then he makes an unexpected move.

Sliding over to me, he falls to his knees and pulls down my shorts. My erection springs free, the underwear leaving a wet streak down my leg. It's a particularly bold move for Mike, who despite becoming a regular in the wank club is a pretty meek guy. What's even bolder is that he immediately takes me into his mouth. I'm shocked, but already incredibly turned on, and I'm more than welcoming of the warm slickness of his mouth on my dick.

What I should say to this is something like `oh sensual boy, how I worship your embrace; oh glory, for all the gods in all the worlds could not forge the dark tenderness you stir in my loins.' Ok, so that would have been cheesy and lame beyond all belief, but it would have been better than what I did manage to sputter, which was something like, "Gah, ergh, god, fudst, ergh!"

Mike doesn't seem to mind, though, and smiles up at me. I consider how endearing it is that I can tell he's smiling even though my dick is in his mouth, his lips in an o-shape around my member. His brown eyes are kind and sensitive and beautiful, and this might turn me on more than anything. I don't know what I did to have this beautiful boy ministering to me so expertly, but I am loving it. His tongue swirls over my helmet, and waves of pleasure wash over me. Man, I haven't had a lot of blow jobs in my life, but the guy is fucking fantastic at this. And this is a real blow job. Charlie and I had licked at each other before, but Mike is sucking and pumping me into his face with real gusto.

It doesn't take me long. As much as I might want to exercise control and make this last, my muscles are all in a completely relaxed post-vibratory state, and I get there really quickly.

"Ugh, man, I'm gonna..."

I pull out a little, and Mike lets me. He reaches out and grabs my balls as they pull up into my body, and it intensifies the approaching orgasm. My first shot erupts and spatters on Mike's chest, and I am lost to ecstasy. Nothing can feel better than this.

But then Mike proves me wrong.

Unexpectedly, he takes my erupting dick back into his mouth, sucking and swallowing my subsequent shots. The pleasure becomes unbearable. It's not like I'm just coming. It's like he may very well kill me doing this. His lips are on my shaft just below the head, moving slowing back and forth.

"Ugh, ARGH, ugh, pull off, man," I grunt and yell, the passion overwhelming me. I try to pull away but Mike grabs my cock in his hand and holds firm, his eyes suddenly both beautiful and mischievously. He begins swirling his tongue around my slit and the sensation I am feeling becomes almost more pain than anything. But good pain.

"JEEZ, OH MY FREAKING, UGH, FUCK!!!" I yell, the intensity too much for me as my orgasm ends. I can't stand anymore and slide down the wall, ending up as a pile of panting, sweaty boy next to Mike. He smiles and crawls up next to me, moving in to kiss me. I kind of don't want him to – he's just taken a loan of my spunk and I consider that it might be a little gross, but he's too hot to resist, and he's just made me feel way too good to refuse anything he wants.

He kisses me deeply, our tongues intertwining. His mouth is a little salty, but I was wrong, it's not gross at all. It's actually a little sexy.

I catch my breath for a moment, sweat is streaming down my face and chest, literally streaming. Mike goes to fondle himself and I shake my head at him. There's no way he's pleasuring himself after what he just did. No freaking way.

He's sitting on the floor cross-legged, and as I move over to him he leans back on his arms, clearly more than happy to let me have my way with him. Thus far, I haven't really been into the whole oral sex thing. I mean, it's hot, and it intrigues me, sure, but Charlie and I didn't get into it and I hadn't really thought about trying it with anyone. But since Mike started it, well, I was happy to take the tasty teen into my mouth.

I tug down on his red shorts, exposing him. He doesn't move his legs, so rather than try and completely disrobe him I pull his underwear down and tuck it under his balls. It pushes everything up and is kind of cute, actually. His delightfully curved cock is pointing up at me, as always it seems inviting and happy somehow. I lower my head and slip his helmet between my lips.

I'd licked Charlie once or twice – and it was nice. But for Mike, who had just given me my first completely oral orgasm, I was determined to return the favor. I held my breath at first, maybe a little afraid I wouldn't like the smell or something? I'm not sure, but I was being pretty silly. His dick felt soft and wet and warm in my mouth, and it seemed HUGE somehow. Like in my hand it was all cute and stroke-able, but it seemed to fill my entire mouth. And it tasted, hmm, a little salty maybe and a little sweet. Actually, it tasted kind of good – like when you lick your wrist after working out (maybe no one else does that).

I don't know if Mike had given just the one blowjob or a thousand in his life. If it was the former, he was a natural, because I wasn't finding it that easy. He gasped when I first took him into my mouth, and he squirmed as I explored his head and shaft with my tongue. Then things didn't go so well. I tried blowing, which was ridiculous (why is it even called that?), then I tried sucking, which also didn't work too good. Mike was a real sport, though, and made little panting and gasping noises that I was pretty certain were exaggerated for my benefit, and his encouragement did help spur me on. Then something bad happened.

I finally figured out that the secret of a good bj was partially letting the guy fuck your face. I mean, that's what it's all about, right? So I start moving back and forth a little, which Mike earnestly enjoys. And it really turns me on, that it's finally really turning him on, so I give it my all and really go to town, but somehow I let his shaft push a little too far and I gag. Hey, it's a reflex, and I can't help it. Unfortunately, when that happens I, um, well, I hate to say it, but I bite down. Hard.

"OUCH! JESUS FUCKING CHRIST, DEVON!" Mike screams, pulling out of my mouth, his face instantly expressing pain and anger. He spins onto his side, accidentally knocking me in the nose with his knee. Hard. I see stars and get really dizzy. Well, maybe the kicking me was an accident – I'd just bitten him, so maybe it wasn't.

Mike is kind of whimpering and probably trying to determine the extent of the damage. I run my tongue over my teeth to make sure they're all still there and I taste something salty, but also a little metallic. Oh god, did I draw blood? Oh my god, I'm such an idiot.

I put my hand on his shoulder and he kind of pulls away from me. "Oh by bod Mike, I'b so sorry," I implore, my words coming out funny because my nose is getting all stopped up where he socked me.

He's holding his dick in one hand and has the other over his face. I cringe, not completely sure what it would feel like to have a moronic Devon clamp down on your privates, but assuming it's more or less as much fun as taking a knee in the balls. "Just. Leave. Me. Alone." He's adamant, and I can hear in his voice that he's really pissed and also really hurting. This is when I switch the last weapon in my arsenal: babbling.

"Oh man, I am so sorry. And I mean like seriously. Oh my god, I am such an idiot. I suck. I mean really. Whatever I can do, c'mon, just let me know. Let me see it, man. I'm sure you'll be ok. I mean, if we need to go to the hospital I will totally take you (and tell them whatever you want me to). Just let me help, here roll over. And you totally get to kick me in the balls later. Truly. Like hard as you want. I don't want kids, really."

The last part gets to him and he laughs through the agony, giving in and rolling over on his back. His hand is still over his eyes, but I can see that his cheeks have been streaked with tears of pain. Oh wonderful, he's also crying - somehow I managed to assault his manhood in both directions.

After some goading he takes his hand off his package. I wouldn't have if I were him, I'd probably get a restraining order keeping me forty feet from his penis at all times. Ever so gingerly (please don't let me do something clumsy and stupid), I take his flaccid dick in my hand and examine it. Yep, along the upper side at the base is a small red cut where my teeth snapped into him. He winces in pain. I don't think it's serious, but I tell him we better go put some antibiotic cream on it. He's not as furious with me as he was a moment ago, but he snappily tells me that he'll be rubbing it on himself.

He walks with a bit of a limp for a couple of days and tells everyone he pulled his thigh muscle running. The next morning I have a big black ring around the underside of both eyes where he kicked me. Serves me right, I think, looking at my raccoon-ness in the mirror and wondering if it's a sexy look. Mike and I are somehow better friends because of the whole incident, and eventually we laugh at the ludicrousness of the situation. About two weeks later I treat him to a two hour erotic massage, and it mostly makes up for everything. We end up intertwined naked and panting many times in the future, but it's a long, long, long, long, long, long, long time before he ever let's me put my mouth on his dick again. And you know what? That's my loss.

ii

Two days after the incident in the engineering room, my black eyes have come in really well. The story I've made up to explain them isn't very elaborate – I say Mike kicked me in the face when I dove on him – in a game of football. We laugh about adding an element of the truth to our lie. Not everyone buys it, though. Well, one person doesn't. I'm working in one of the tree farms (fruit trees) with Zane when he brings it up.

"So, you ever going to tell me what really happened to your nose?" he asks.

"Nope."

Zane is perceptive as fuck, and I really don't want to go into the story with him. In fact, over the last week I've decided I'm a little annoyed at Zane, but I have my own reasons for that. I figure just refusing to talk about it is my best alternative. He'd sniff out any lie and wheedle me until I told him the truth otherwise.

"Aw, c'mon Dev, you can trust me. What was it? You and Charles get into a little fight? Reid finally sock you one?"

Bringing up Reid was a low blow. Zane knew we'd had our falling out, although I wasn't sure how. He just always seemed to know everything. I give him as nasty stare and don't respond to his cajoling, so he switches tactics.

"Well, you know," he says, over pronouncing the word `know' so that it has two syllables and drags on forever, "you owe me a tumble for that little trick you and Charles played on me. I might be convinced to trade that for the true story of Devon's sudden panda look. I mean, fair's fair. You owe me."

He's really pushing all the wrong buttons today. I'm tired, I'm hot, and I've been dragging bags of soil around all afternoon. I'm annoyed at him and now he's trying to manipulate me. I lose it a little and respond angrily. Maybe more angrily than he deserves, but the Reid comment got me riled.

"Yeah, Zane, I'm sure I do. I'm sure the whole world owes you one." My tone is flat and terse, and I can feel my blood pressure pump up a little.

Zane drops the bag of soil he's been carrying on his shoulder and it hits the ground with a dull thud. He's buff enough to lift these all day long, and I've been trying to keep up with him, my ego spurring me on. Still, he's got three years and like twelve kilos on me, and I know that I'll regret my machismo in the morning. Zane's normally mischievous expression changes to one of concern, and I can tell he's now genuinely interested in why I'm so pissy. Great, now he'll never leave me alone. It would have been better if he'd just gotten angry in return.

"Hey, I'm sorry about messing with you, man. You don't have to tell me about the eyes. Seriously. But what's the deal? You've been annoyed at me all week."

My bicep flutters, indicating it's about done working for the day and that I need to drop my bag of soil or risk tearing it into a hundred shreds, or at least that's what it feels like. "Nothing, forget it," I reply, "Let's just finish our work and go home, ok?"

"No, it's not ok. Look, come over here." Zane grabs me by the hand and tugs my arm to get me to follow. It stretches my sore muscles and feels both painful and a little good. I consider refusing to follow him, but the thing with Zane is that he usually gets his way. If I say no, he'll pester me until I get so pissed I finally say yes, so then I'll still have to follow him but I'll also be furious. I resign myself and let him drag me through the trees across the farm yard. We come upon a door on the far wall, it's to a supply room that is mostly empty. "Here, we'll have some privacy this way and we can talk."

I wasn't sure we were the only ones in the farm. Brian and Sandor, two of Steve Caine's stupid lackeys, had been working in here earlier, but I think they'd left. Still, better not to have a conversation out in the open.

Zane spins around and smiles at me, a smile that is more than a little sexy. "Or do other things," he says suggestively.

And that annoys me too. Zane is walking sex, that's what Zane is. He's standing in front of me, shirtless, the epitome of masculinity. His abs point downward in a v-shape that seems suspiciously arranged to resemble an all-too-inviting arrow. His pecs are defined and sculpted, round and hard with two pierced pink nipples, and the fine sheen of sweat covering him has made the brown fuzz on this chest darker with dampness. His lips are red and full and stuck in a permanent mischievous grin, they compete fiercely for best facial feature with his button nose, big floppy ears and deep brown puppy dog eyes. To top it all off, the chestnut curls that I find so alluring are soaked with sweat and sticking to his scalp and face seductively. His body is streaked here and there with dirt, and even that looks good on him. He even fucking smells good. We've both been moving soil all afternoon, and it's made him seem like more of a greek god than ever. Me? I stink like road kill, my body is about to fall apart, and I look like I've been drug behind a truck through a redwood forest.

I don't know if Zane is just one of the most beautiful men in the world (or what's left of it) or if there's an outline of him hidden away in my dna that draws me to him like a mosquito to a lamp, but I can't resist him and it annoys the fuck out of me. He's staring at me with those big brown eyes, and I realize Zane can manipulate me into anything, and that pisses me off even more.

We enter the supply room and Zane locks the door behind us. I consider that it was a pretty bad idea following this guy in here. Dammit, Devon. When are you going to learn?

"Ok, so spill. What's the deal? Seriously, I want to know." He sounds genuinely concerned, but also a little annoyed. I guess he has a right to be. I've been a little short around him lately, and I gave him an extra small portion in the cafeteria yesterday, which I know he noticed.

"Look, Zane," My voice is a little more pleading than I'd like, "I don't want to talk about it. Really."

"Well, we're going to talk about it. You've been treating me pissy all fucking week and I want to know why. I'm not letting you out until we do. So you can tell me, or we can sit here for five hours and then you can tell me."

He's between me and the door, and I know he's serious about keeping me in here as long as it takes. I figure `what the hell?' I might as well talk about it.

"Fine. If you want to know, it's because of what you did that night we first played poker. You know, after. I wasn't mad, but then I thought about it later and I was. There, sue me." Zane is listening intently, and I can see him going over that night in his mind.

"Jeez Dev, I don't remember..."

I interrupt him, annoyance seething in my voice, "Well you kissed me, then you tried to twist my fucking nut-sack off. Then you told me not to fall for you." It was true, he'd given my balls a good quarter-turn, and it had hurt like hell. I absentmindedly rubbed my groin through my jeans, recalling the pain.

"Oh. Hey, I'm sorry about that." His voice is quiet and sincere. I wasn't done though.

"Well, you can be sorry all you want, but I'm still pissed. You know what? I'd just gotten you off, right? And maybe I suck at sex, but I did the best I could. Everyone else was nice about it, you know? But the first thing you do is tell me I owe you a fuck. Like I'm obligated to blow you later or something. Like I'm your prostitute. And that kind of sucked, and I know you were trying to be funny about saying I owe you, but then you fucking grabbed my balls, which hurt, by the way."

I'm pacing back and forth. Well, he wanted to talk about it. He sighs, "Hey man, I'm sorry."

I'm sure he means it, but I'm not done. "No, Zane, you're not. Because you're never sorry about anything you do. You may be sorry I'm pissed, but you're not sorry about what you said. And the worst thing was, you told me to stay away from you. Maybe not in so many words, but the second I get you off you're whispering in my ear that I shouldn't fall in love with you. Do you know how that makes me feel? Like total shit. Charlie and I came up with the whole wank club so we could find some of the other gay guys on the ship. And it worked, and it was cool and I had fun. But of everyone, you're the only one that felt you had to come ward me off.

"And I didn't figure it out at first, but like two days later I realized you used me. Not because you had sex with me, but because you manipulated me into letting you tell me how to feel. You know what? I'm not in love with you. I can't be within fifteen feet of you without getting hard, but I'm not in love. But who knows, maybe someday I would be. Why would that be so bad? I like sex, but maybe I don't want it to always be wank clubs and `friends with benefits'. Maybe I want a boyfriend someday, and maybe I want to feel loved. I don't feel like I need every jerkoff like you telling me how to feel, I don't think I deserve that."

Tears were welling up in my eyes but I successfully fought them back. Zane wasn't going to succeed in making me cry. Besides, my nose was still really tender and scrunching it up to cry would hurt like heck.

Zane takes a deep breath and lets it out, he's pinching at his eyes like he has a headache and I can't tell if he's annoyed or moved by my rant. Hopefully he's not annoyed, because if he makes even the smallest snide comment I feel like I'll explode in fury heretofore unseen from Devon.

"Oh jeez, Dev. I was afraid of this. Here, come here." He sits on a burlap bag and pats the spot next to him. I eye him warily but decide to accept the invitation, plopping down next to him.

"Look, I won't lie to you. The truth is, I did say that to sort of push you away. And yeah, I smacked your nuts a little for the same reason. That was stupid, and it was wrong. You've been a good friend, and I shouldn't have done that."

His apology softens me a little, although I'm still glaring at him as best I can with my dark eyes. I'm going for `I'm still hurt and don't really trust you very much'.

"Here's the thing, and this may be hard to explain. But if you promise to listen, I'll promise to try and make sense.

"I'm bad for you, and I think you know that. There's a bit of an age difference here. I mean, we're only four years apart, but I mean in experience, you know? You've been gay for what? Fifteen minutes? I slept with my first guy when I was twelve. He was sixteen and I tricked him into bed with me. It's kind of what I do. I mean, I'm not shallow. Sex is about love too, and I love the people I fuck. Maybe I just love more freely than other people, because I've `loved' like sixty or seventy people over the years. Lots of guys and lots of girls. Maybe like half and half, I don't know.

"And that's taught me a lot. I know, it also makes me a slut. But I really do care for the people I'm with, and it's not like I kick them out of bed in the morning. I'm just hyper, and always eager for the next great thing. And you and Charlie came along, with your transparent ploy and silly poker game. Don't get me wrong, it was adorable, and not at all a bad idea. I loved it. And I was so happy that this was coming from one of my best friends on the ship, a guy I'd seen struggling with something for weeks. When you and Charlie sent that invite, it took me like three seconds to figure out you two had become bed buddies, and that the newer, happier Devon was happier because he was coming into his own.

"And that's where you are – at the beginning of your journey. And it's exciting, and I'm excited for you. Now you've had that best friend that you fall into sweaty, fumbling sex with, and you've had that group of guys you jerk off with. And guess what? You are about to have the guy you fall hard for. And when you do you'll offer him your heart and you'll fuck him and love him and feel loved back.

"I'd love to be that guy, Dev, really. And I could – I could totally fall in love with you, you know? And I thought about it, seriously. But I feel like there would be something wrong with that. Maybe not wrong exactly, but I'd feel like I was holding you back in a way. You're beautiful, Dev, beyond description. And I want you to be out there experiencing life, and finding out what it is to be young and gay and funny and smart. You deserve that.

"And that's what I should have said to you instead of thumping your nuts and being mean. I'm sorry. Truly. It hurts me that I hurt you."

Zane has been talking for a while, and his words all seem completely sincere. And they move me. I stand up and cross the narrow room, folding my arms and staring at the wall. I don't know how to feel. I'm flattered that he thinks so highly of me, but still a little disappointed there will never be an `us'. I mean, I didn't know if I even could develop feelings for Zane beyond lust, but I still didn't want to be told what to do.

Zane gets up and steps up behind me, wrapping his arms across my chest in a tight bear hug. His body is warm and comforting against mine, and even if we're not to be boyfriends, I do forgive him. I can't help it.

"So, we good?" he whispers into my ear.

I roll my eyes. Maybe he's right. Would I want to fall for someone who could wrap me around their little finger on a whim? "Yeah, we're good Zane. Apology accepted."

"Good," he states plainly, "And I want you to know something. Once you've gone out there and tasted a little from the cup of life – you know, once you've slept with a couple dozen of our shipmates and broken a few hearts – you and me? Well, I'd never bet against it. You just never know."

It's endearing, and as always I feel that mixing sarcasm with that is a wise choice. "Yeah," I reply, "but by then you'll be a little bit of an old man for me, right? I mean, that might be gross."

He laughs, his breath puffing warm in my ear. "You're more than right, I'm sure. Zane'll look pretty saggy and baggy once you've bedded a few more hotties. Now are you going to tell me what the deal with the black eyes is?"

I roll my (black) eyes, although he can't see because he's standing behind me. I might as well tell him. I meekly mumble, "Brt Merk gmer blwgey."

"Didn't quite get that, Dev," Zane responds in my ear. I can feel his wet curls against the side of my face, and maybe this more than anything makes me confide in him.

"I said, and you better fucking not laugh at me, I accidentally bit Mike's dick giving my first blow job – really hard too - and he kicked me in the fucking nose accidentally. Well, maybe accidentally. I'm still not sure about that part."

Zane is completely still for a moment, and I realize that he's holding his breath trying to comply with my request not to laugh. I can feel his chest quivering a little.

"Just you do it, Flynn, just you fucking laugh at me and see what happens." I have to admit, it is funny. Well, not to Mike of course. Oh god, I'm the worst gay guy ever. One blow job and the two of us almost end up in the hospital.

Zane takes several deep breaths and regains control. He's still holding me, tighter now, and it's making me really comfortable and a little sleepy after my rant. "Sorry, Dev. Ok, so tell me what happened."

I recount the story, starting from the beginning. "Super vibration room? Sweet," Zane comments. I have a feeling there'll be a group there at the next engine firing. Zane starts swaying back and forth a little, his chin resting on my shoulder. I could fall asleep in this position. I finish my story, trying to express to Zane how truly sorry I am for causing Mike penile injury, as if I somehow need to apologize to every man in the world.

"I'm sorry about that, Dev. I mean really. That's just bad luck. Look, can I ask you something, even if it may come off as crass? I don't want to hurt your feelings, and I know I was an ass before about this."

Zane has me so soothed he could probably rack my nuts again and I wouldn't care. "Yeah," I sigh, "Yeah, go ahead."

"Ok, so, ummm, what I'd ask you is, I mean, if you're willing, and in no way am I trying to take advantage of you or say you're slutty or you owe me or anything, but if you want, you know I'm a pretty experienced guy, uh, in the bedroom, and I could teach you a couple of things. Totally up to you. You're hot, I'm hot, it would be totally hot. If it would make you feel weird, then no way. But if you want, I can, umm, you know, tutor you."

And what am I supposed to say to that? I don't really feel bad that we won't end up as boyfriends because I was never really sure I would have fallen for him in the first place. And he's just earned mega points for being such a, what, flatterer? Which I'm sure is largely what got a fair percentage of those seventy sexual partners into his bed. Still, he was holding me, all buff, brawny, and hot. What could I say?

"Mmmmmmm..." I draw it out as if I really need to consider things, "Yeah, ok. I think I'd like that. Just don't fall in love with me."

Zane reaches up into my shirt and strokes my abs, his other arm is still pressed tightly across my chest. He speaks softly into my ear, his voice noticeably husky, "Cool, can we start now? Cause our little spat got me a little horny, to be honest Dev."

A case of cholera could get Zane horny, and I'm about to tell him that when I realize something. Zane calling me `Dev' in my ear and stroking my tummy is actually quite an effectual way to turn me on. About a billionth of a second after realizing this I completely melt. I'm sure he notices, the bastard.

I try to turn and face him, but he holds me firmly in place. "Uh-uh," he chides, "If we're going to teach you something about sex, we need to start by focusing on you. You stay in place, got it?" He kisses my ear, sucking a little on the lobe and I feel that first anticipatory wave of pleasure run through my body. I mumble my affirmative.

Zane slowly undresses me, first tugging my shirt over my head and then bending down to remove my shoes. He unbuttons my pants and slides both the jeans and my underwear to the floor. I step out of them, Zane staying directly behind me and me maintaining my position against the wall. I'm not hard, surprisingly, just really, really relaxed. Zane takes me back in his arms, squeezing my chest. Now that I'm naked I can feel his furry pecs against my back, warm and firm and wonderful. I can also feel the hair of his pubis against my lower pack – wait a sec. His hands were off me for like, what? Three seconds? How the hell did he get his pants and underwear off without me noticing? Damn, this guy IS good.

I move to turn and laugh at him about this, but he holds me in place. "Jeez, you're a squirmer, Chasen. Just hold still and enjoy things."

He kisses my neck and I decide to comply with everything he tells me to do.

"Ok, so here's the first thing I want to teach you. You think I'm a panegyrist, right?" he asks, stroking my back with his fingers and running his stubbly chin over my shoulder.

"I might, if I knew what the hell a panegyrist was," I say wryly (but not too wryly, it's hard to use dry wit when wrapped in a big fuzzy Zane blanket).

"An adulator. You know, a flatterer. You think I tell people what they want to hear to get them into bed."

"No," I reply, "I know you tell them what they want to hear to get them into bed."

He slaps my naked butt playfully. "Oh, ha ha. But that's not what I do. Not really. Here's the thing, you know how most people when they're checking someone out they'll be like hey, that guy's really cute, but he has funny toes' or man, she's hot, but her breasts are a little weird'? It's like we're programmed to look for people's flaws. But I don't do that - I'm the opposite. To me, everyone I meet is beautiful in some way or other, and expressing that is powerful. Really powerful."

"Yeah?"

"Totally. So here's the deal. I'm going to tell you what I like about you, what makes you so hot, and you'll kind of see what I mean. But I want you to think about something else. You're the kind of guy that walks around always thinking things would be great if you had my pecs or Conner's smile or Charlie's tan, right?"

He hits the nail more or less on the head. I do always wish my body were a little different. I try to turn around to tell him that he's way too perceptive, but he holds me in place.

"Nuh-uh. What is your problem with following instructions today? Stay still."

"K."

"Ok, so anyway. I'm going to tell you what's hot about you, Dev, and I want you to really get it. I flatter people, sure, but I am always one-hundred percent honest. I want you to start to see how people perceive you – it's a lot kinder that how I think you see yourself. Ok, so ready?"

I wasn't sure that I was, because I wasn't exactly sure what Zane was proposing. But I trusted him (to an extent), so I nod my consent. He takes my arms and places my palms up against the wall in front of me, almost like he's about to frisk me, which as it turns out is more or less what he does. Zane reaches under my arms and begins rubbing my chest up and down with both palms. His touch is, as always, light and full of sexual electricity.

"Ok, so let's start here. I know you've been working out more, and that's great. You should always feel comfortable trying to make your body a little better, but I also want you to understand that you're already totally hot. I love your chest, Devon. My pecs are kind of like man-boobs, but yours are flat and firm, and I love how smooth your skin is here."

His strokes are firm and relaxing, at least they're relaxing until he gently takes both of my nipples between his fingers and begins pinching them in a playful manner. They immediately fill with blood and give him a little more to tweak. I gasp at the sensation and feel my dick jump half to attention. Zane is kissing my neck and talking low and grumbly right into my ear, which is also an immense turn on.

"And these are just unbelievably hot, Dev. Some guys have nipples that are all big and gross, and some are too small. Yours are kind of like you, cute and fun to play with. If I didn't have a lot of ground to cover, I'd spend an afternoon sucking on these, and who knows, maybe I'll put that on the calendar for the next lesson. But for now, we move forward."

He moves his hands to my tummy and runs his fingers along my abs. Sometimes I'm sensitive about my stomach because I don't have the definition that guys like Mike do. It's flat, but so far my sit-ups haven't brought out those sexy lines I love so much in other guys.

"Don't you dare get all sensitive on me now," Zane mumbles and I relax, "this is a sexy tummy, my man. It's awesome. You make me want to touch it, to put my mouth on it. Hey, I even kind of want to throw you on the floor and ride it a little, if you want the honest truth." He's running his fingertips around my navel, exploring it both inside and out, which no one's ever done before. Hell, no one's ever touched me like this before. It's unbearably intimate and sexy and erotic, and I don't know why, but I'm a little embarrassed that a couple of compliments are all it takes for Zane to get my dick up, which is now standing straight out at full attention. My body is quivering under his expert fingers, it's like each time he touches me that part of my body completely short-circuits with desire. Yeah, Zane is an expert all right.

He runs his fingers down my abs and into my pubes, stroking and feeling the wiry hair there. I can't help myself and remove one of my hands from the wall, reaching back and running my hands through Zane's hair. It's a instinctual thing – he's making me feel so good that I physically have to touch him, I have to feel his skin against my fingertips. He doesn't pull back, but chuckles lightly.

"See what I mean by the power of earnest flattery. I like your bush, Dev, not too long and not too short." He grabs the hair in his fist and currents of electricity shoot through my body. "And what's especially great is it reminds me of my favorite thing about you, the part I'm the very most interested in."

My body tenses in anticipation. Maybe almost everything we do in life is about getting to the moment, when another human being comes into contact with our sexual organs and we undertake the fulfillment of our genetically predispositioned sexual destinies. And I was ready, I can tell you, hard and throbbing and, as you probably guessed, dripping a little.

But Zane throws me a curve ball and moves his hands away from my crotch and up to my head. I should have seen that one coming, he was doing to me exactly what I'd done to him at the info or actions match. He runs his fingers through my hair, which I've let grow a little longer. My blonde highlights have almost grown out completely. He explores my scalp with his fingernails and tugs my hair gently in his fist where it's long enough.

"Oh yeah," he whispers huskily to me, "as you probably figured out, I have a hair thing. Yours is awesome – straight and soft. I like it longer like this, too. Lets me run my fingers through it. And I love the way it's starting to grow over your ears. Which reminds me, you have adorable ears."

Zane takes my right ear in his mouth, licking and nipping at it. I feel his tongue exploring the curves and ridges of my lobe, and then unexpectedly he sticks it in the canal. It's wet and warm and tickling, and I giggle a little, but it's also unbearably erotic. It's weird to hear the loud squishy whooshing sound of Zane licking me this close. With his other hand he tweaks my nipple again, and the combination of the two sensations does something to me. Something awesome. It's like my whole body melts in his arms. Zane's face is pressed so close to my ear that I can tell he smiles when that happens.

"Enjoying that?" he asks, his voice deep and sensual, the vibrations of his speech making the hair on my neck stand up. A shiver runs down my spine and brings out gooseflesh on my butt.

"Uh-huh," I whimper, complete putty in this guy's hands. And it's just when I think it can't get any more intimate that it does.

Zane moves his hand around my face to my lips, and starts fingering them gently. His head is on my shoulder again, and as much as I want him to suck my ear some more I let him move on, wondering what other sensual ecstasies he has in store for me.

"Your lips are unbelievable. Don't ever forget that. The way the top one sticks out a little so your mouth looks a little like an upside-down `w', it's adorable. And hot." What's hot is that he's playing with them between his fingers, exploring both inside and outside my mouth. I try not to slobber. He runs a finger along my upper front teeth. "And the way your teeth show a little no matter if you're smiling or not? Oh my god, you have the most adorable mouth ever. They're sharp, though. We'll have to teach you how to keep them away from the shaft."

I laugh, which comes out as a puff of air since Zane has his fingers in my mouth. He pinches my nose and begins feeling the firmness of the cartilage. "And your nose, also perfect. I dig the way it so very slightly turns up. It's just right. Any further and it would be a little too puggish. Any less and it wouldn't be as cute. And it's just the right size. Masculine, but adorable. But here, this is the best part, close your eyes."

I do as he says and his fingers move up to my eyelids. I jump a little, but he's being incredibly gentle, and I let him run his fingers over them.

"Your eyes are incredible, Dev. They're intense, man, so dark that they almost seem black sometimes. I dig that. And they're perfect – large and almond-shaped. You may not know it, but you have a thousand emotions coming out of those eyes, and it's how I first knew you were gay. I could see what you were thinking – any joy or pain or fear comes relentlessly blazing out of those eyes. You can express anything you want with eyes like those, so god help us if you get really good at it. You could melt a guy, or stare right into his soul and make him do whatever you want. If you want my advice, I'll tell you to be careful with these. Love a guy with these eyes, but don't break his heart with them, because that might destroy him completely."

The flattery is intense, and the compliments are working. I had no idea Zane thought any of this about me.

"But let's move on. I can tell you're pretty primed, buddy, and there'll be plenty of time for us to do this later. Let's talk about another one of the `fun parts'." Zane steps back and I instantly miss his scratchy face on my shoulder. He takes my shoulders in his large, warm hands and rubs them, running his palms down my back. My muscles are sore from work and it feels good to have pressure on them.

"Your back is hot too, but let's save that for another day. Before you accidentally blow all over the place, I want to talk about your ass."

He cups my buttocks in his palms and a shiver runs through my body. I've recently discovered that I like my butt being played with – caress it, scratch it, kneed it, it doesn't matter. I just love having a guy's hands on it.

Zane's tone becomes a little scholarly, like he's reassumed the professor role, "Ok, so when I say ass, there's really two parts. There's your ass, which we'll get to, and then there's your butt. Your butt is great, totally hot." He's kneading and massaging my cheeks, digging firmly into the muscle with his palms, and it's really turning me on.

"And here's the thing. You're a bit of a scrawny guy, maybe a little slight. But you're about to change, Dev. I've been with a lot of guys, and a lot of them all through their teenage years. I don't know if you've thought about it, but maybe you feel like you're going to grow up to be a skinny, lanky, kind of twinkish guy. You're not. I can feel it, especially down here. Your muscles are about to start filling out. You can tell, well, because for one thing you're leaking testosterone all over the place."

The hairs on my thighs were damp and I could feel wetness rolling down my inner legs all the way to my knees. I was pretty sure it wasn't testosterone I was leaking.

"You're going to grow into a good looking guy, Devon. Whether you lift a lot or not. You probably won't get built like me, but your frame isn't as small as I might have thought. There's no way you'll end up a twink. You're going to have a great build. And it'll suit you. Your butt is cute now – pert and small and adorable. But when you fill out, it's going to be something else that breaks men's hearts. Mark my words. When you're my age and more or less finished growing, god help us gay boys."

Zane scratches my ass with his fingernails, hard enough I'm sure he's left a bit of a red streak on my skin. It sends shivers up my spine. God help him? God help me, this guy has me about to explode.

"Ok, and one last thing and we're done. But tell me if anything here makes you uncomfortable. I know your sex play so far has been pretty, well, innocent. You fool around with Charlie and then you wank with the group and you critically injure Mike. And that's all great. But you're gay, and so it's time you learned a little about your ass. I take it you and Charlie haven't done anything in that area?"

I shake my head nervously. We hadn't even thought about it. Well, I had. What it would be like to fuck him, be fucked by him. But that felt like one step way too far in our friendship, sexual though it was. Zane was making me a little anxious, and I think he could tell because he reached around and started rubbing my tummy. It put me instantly at ease. With his other hand he was caressing my butt, running his slender fingers between the cheeks and up and down the crack.

"Ok, so here's the thing, Devon. A guy really has two sexual organs, you know? And don't tell the girls that – it pisses them off for some reason. Not sure why. It also makes the straight guys uncomfortable. But for a guy like you, understanding that you have the ability to both give and take pleasure is important. And let me know if you want me to stop, but I want you to start understanding this."

I consider telling him that I'd be fine leaving the lesson at that. I was a little shy about my, erm, hole, and not sure I wanted Zane exploring it the same way he'd done the rest of my body. But I figure I'll see what he'll do, and yelp if he goes too far.

Zane moves his left arm up and around his chest and resumes his backwards bear hug of me. It feels comforting for him to be holding me so tight. I hear him spit behind me, and wonder for a second what he's doing before I feel his other hand slide between my legs, coaxing me to spread them a little. I comply but tense up, which causes him to hold me tighter. His fingers are warm and wet, and I realize that he spit in his hand. I consider this may be a little gross, but then all of a sudden his fingers find what they're searching for and I gasp.

It's a forbidden touch – maybe the most forbidden. His wet finger is slowly stroking the outer ring of my sphincter, gently moving back and forth over the hole. I tense even further, a little freaked out by this most intimate of caresses.

Zane puts his head back on my shoulder and whispers gently into my ear, "It's ok, baby, I'm not going to hurt you. Just tell me if you want me to stop, ok?"

Maybe it's the bear hug, maybe it's the way Zane's voice seethes with tenderness, or maybe it's the way he calls me `baby', which is somehow immensely endearing, but I relax a little. He continues stroking me down there, and I stop and consider that it feels, well, good. Weird and new and a little scary, but not bad at all. Each time his finger slips over my ass, I feel shivers run through my groin. It's almost like being jerked off, but more subtle somehow.

Zane slips his finger just barely into me, penetrating my ring of muscle as little as possible. I groan, guttural and husky, dropping my head and succumbing to this caress.

"See, you've only been using the other one, and I bet you're sorry now." I can tell he's smiling, his voice always has the slight ring of laughter to it when he is.

He lets go of me and repositions himself behind me. I stand still, waiting curiously to see what he's doing. And then he's touching me down there again, slowly rubbing my hole with his fingers. Except it's not his fingers. I can tell it's bigger. And wetter. And, well, dickier. He's moved up against me and he's rubbing his erect cock between my legs and against my ass. It's hot, and I'm instantly turned on by it, but then it also scares me. Is he about to fuck me? Am I about to get fucked for the first time? Do I want to get fucked for the first time? I'm horny as hell, and my body screams to me that I want Zane inside me, but my brain says to slow down. In typical Devon fashion, I get nervous and scared and annoyed and sad and happy all at once.

"Zane, I don't..."

"Shh, shh, shh," he hushes me, "I told you, some day you're going to come back to me once you have like twenty guys under your belt, and maybe then you give me the fuck of my life. But not today. You'll have your first time soon, and it'll be awesome, I promise. But I wouldn't do it to you – your first guy will be someone you really care for. You're just that type of boy. I love that about you, and my job is to teach you what you need to know so that when you find him, you fuck his brains out and he's yours forever."

I giggle, relaxing.

Zane adds, "In the meantime, I think it's time we end our lesson. I'm fucking knee-deep in precum back here, and you're making my balls ache with your hotness. Here, let's see if this works for you. Put your legs together."

Zane steps back and I do as he says, bringing my legs together and leaning forward against the wall. I feel him scoot up behind me and press his erect dick between my legs. He slides between my thighs and his head pokes out the other side just below my sack. Now that's hot.

He begins thrusting slowly. He's not in me, but he's between me, and it's kind of like getting fucked and it's kind of not. Like a faux-fuck I guess. Zane is good at what he does, and I guess part of that is always giving as well as receiving. He wraps his arm around me again, embracing me in his strong arms. His other hand makes his way down my stomach, and this time he does get past the pubes, wrapping his fist around my oh-so-eager cock.

This is something new and exciting for me. It's not quite play, the way that I play with Charlie and the others, and it's not quite fucking. It's almost like wrestling. Zane's body moves back and forth, and I can feel a sheen of sweat building up between us, slicking my back and his chest. His fuzz tickles my back with each thrust, and his hand expertly fists my shaft. It's like each time he pushes into me he give me a stroke, so that I imagine the pleasure I feel racing up and down my dick is the same pleasure I'm giving him.

I'd have thought I would blow in like three seconds, but somehow the afternoon has made me so horny that I last longer, if that makes sense. It's like the pleasure is so intense it hurts. It's also like it's building up in me as some kind of animal lust. This isn't just making me feel good, it's making me a little crazed with gratification.

Zane starts grunting, his thrusting becoming more aggressive and wilder. He occasionally pulls out too far and has to reposition. His sex noises are low and guttural and awesome. I can tell he's getting closer and closer.

"Ugh, Dev, ugh, you are, ugh, so, ugh, fucking, ugh, hot," he pants and gasps in my ear. His stubble is sharp and abrasive where it rubs on my shoulder, and it leaves a red spot that lasts for two days (one that I look at fondly in the mirror more than once). I can tell this hot guy is about to finish, and I just wish I was a little better at sex so I could do something extra cool for him. But then I remember what he likes.

I reach around and grab the long hair on the back of his head. The other day I'd played with it and turned him on, so today I take a gamble and grab a fist full, giving it a fairly aggressive yank. It does the trick.

"ARH, jesus, urgh," Zane tenses and slams into me, pushing me into the wall. I can feel his entire body contract, his chest and abs hard as stone against my back. And then his cock begins pulsing between my legs. He's still thrusting slowly, and I feel a sticky warmth spread between my thighs. More than warm, really, Zane's semen feels hot against the skin of my legs and scrotum.

And then it hits me. I'm making this guy cum. This god of sex, this sensual and beautiful man. Everything I like about Zane flashes through my mind at the same time. His gorgeous pecs, those hot nipple rings, the hair, the puppy dog eyes, and that delicious thick rod that's spewing between my legs at the moment. It's too much, or maybe it's just enough. It takes me over the edge.

"Ugh, Zane, fuck, ugh," I grunt. He pumps me harder as my cock explodes. I'm pointing up when the first shot bursts out, and it flies up to land on the wall right in front of my face. Zane pumps me from behind, not completely in control of his hand because of the way he's standing, and my cum flies to the left and then to the right. The fourth shot lands on my toes, hot and sticky.

Once we're done, Zane continues to hold me for a full five minutes. It's endearing, and I love standing here wrapped in his arms. Our dicks deflate and contentment spreads over my entire body. Before letting me go, Zane tells me one more things. "Oh, yeah, you're going to be a heartbreaker all right." I pat the side of his face and turn around. It's interesting to me that our whole session occurred without me looking at him. Next time, I want to see this sexy boy gasp and grunt and turn red in front of me.

We get dressed and clean the room and head back to work. Zane's load ended up mostly between my legs, coating my balls and thighs. I don't wipe it off as I slip my undies on, and in fact I don't clean it off all day. Kinda gross, I know, but it dries and doesn't seem so bad, and I like having the crusty reminder of our sex stuck to the hair down there. When I finally do shower and rinse off, it makes me a little sad, but then I smile, figuring I can probably get him to drop another load on me anytime.

iii

The next day was Thursday, and I liked Thursdays because once I was off shift I was done with shit detail for a four day stretch. Plus we had our weekly `poker game' each Friday night, and usually by Thursday evening I was in permanent bone state in anticipation of that. Well, not so much this week, seeing as how I'd had a pretty hot time with Mike on Monday and then Zane on Wednesday. Or maybe I was more erect because of that – I couldn't really tell.

Whatever the state of my horniness, I was looking to score, and I had a pretty good idea where to get some love. I knew Charlie was hanging out in our secret flat, so I headed there. The bedroom was empty when I got there, as was the poker room. However, the door to room C, the equivalent to my room upstairs, was open and I could hear noises from within, so I curiously went in. I was a bit shocked by what I found.

Yeah, I know what you're thinking – I'd walked in on some weird sex ritual or hot boy-on-boy scene or something, but that wasn't it at all. I'd found Charlie, and he was hard at work setting up some weird machine. Well, some massive machine actually. He'd totally removed the bunks from the right side of the room and was assembling something that looked to be the size of a small car. There were boxes everywhere, with piles of electronics and machinery scattered around the perimeter of the room.

"What the heck?" I asked, confused by this unexpected scene.

Charlie turned, slightly startled by me. He'd been in deep thought and had hardly even noticed me. "Oh, hey Devon. I'm just working on something here."

I chuckle. "Yeah, I can see that. But what the heck is it? It looks like an espresso machine from hell." And it kind of did – what was taking shape was a relatively streamlined stainless steel box filled with a maze of machinations. Off to the left of the main assembly was what appeared to be some sort of computer control console or something.

Charlie chuckles at my espresso joke and picks up a large gear, staring at it curiously, as if to ask whether this should have been installed like twenty steps ago. "Um, yeah, this is one of the clothing manufacturing units. Well, one that wasn't in use. I pulled it out of storage."

I walked over to the unit and looked into the largest compartment. Wires and gears and parts jutted here and there at every angle. I knew what the clothing manufacturing units did – well, the name was pretty self explanatory. They made clothes. After all, what we brought with us wasn't exactly going to last twenty years. Sadly, the clothes these things made mostly sucked. Somehow they were programmed to churn out these lame starchy white pieces. If you wore them you looked kind of like a puritanical dork from the twenty-fourth and a half century. Very uncool.

Most people had started taking very good care of their earth clothes, especially underwear. These things made these awful one-piece undie sets that stretched from your knees to a half-sleeve t-shirt. Blech. Unless you were Mormon, they weren't that appealing. I have to admit I'd run short of underwear and had tried a pair. They were scratchy and hurt my skin – especially my nipples (hey, it's true). So I cut off the shirt part and tried to get the mid-length briefs to stay around my waist with a drawstring I'd rigged. Hmm, not the best idea. I looked like a castaway with horrendous fashion sense.

"Trying to replace your denim?" I respond to Charlie. He'd lost a pair of jeans – his only pair – working down on one of the farms. They'd gotten all ripped up somehow and he was bummed. He never explained what happened exactly, but I didn't press. He was a little prone to depression and I didn't want to push him.

He sets the gear down and scribbles a note on a small pad, detaching it and adhering it to the machine piece, apparently marking it for later use. "Uh, yeah, maybe. I guess. You're supposed to be able to do a lot with these things, so I thought it would be fun to play with one."

Dragging a bazillion kilos of machinery across the ship didn't sound like fun to me, but to each their own. Charlie's use of the words fun' and play' did remind me why I came up here, though. I walk across the room, gingerly avoiding the piles of parts. Charlie is looking at a schematic he's laid on the rear bunk. I reach around his waist and pull myself closer to his body. Ah, Charlie. Mike is adorable and Zane is hot, but there is something about the smell and feel of your first crush pressed up next to you.

In my best seductive voice (which I admit isn't that good at all), I whisper into his ear, "I know what I'd have fun playing with."

This is a familiar starting point for sex play with me and Charlie. Me whispering something to him, him sighing a little in response, me sliding my hand into his shorts and then the world getting a whole lot better for the next hour. I move on to `stage three', the hand slide, and something unexpected happens. Charlie grabs my wrist and stops me. Well, that's new.

"Um, not right now Devon, ok? I'm kinda in the middle of something." He continues reading his instruction manual, and I get a little annoyed. Ok, time to turn up the temperature.

I slide my hand down the back of his pants, feeling my fingers slide between his buttocks. He loves being stroked here, possibly more than anything else I do to him. "Mmm...I know what I'd like to be in the middle of." Ok, so it was a terrible line. But I thought it might work.

It didn't.

Charlie grabs my wrist more forcefully this time and pulls my hand out of his pants. His response is far more agitated. "Dang it, Devon, I said not now. I'm working on this. Go play someplace else."

I'm not sure if it was the ignoring me or the very patronizing comment about playing elsewhere, but instantly my feelings were hurt, and about a half second later I was pissed.

"Fine," I respond in the same annoyed tone he'd used, "play with your stupid machine. God knows we need more ugly Mormon underoos on this ship." And I walked out, trying to make a dramatic exit and slam the door, but instead tripping over a cable and falling into the wall. I turn around to see Charlie smirking at me, one eyebrow arched in a look that told me that my pouty fit was more silly than effective. That pissed me off too, so I gave him a rather nasty stare in return turning to leave the bedroom, this time being careful not to look like an imbecile.

I don't know why I acted like such a baby. I wasn't really angry with Charlie, he had every right to do whatever it was he was doing up there, I think I was just frustrated because I'd hoped to spend some time in bed with him. I almost always got my way in this respect with him, and having him say no was a little confusing. Argh, I was acting like a total child, throwing a fit because one time in twenty he was too busy to pay attention to me. I decided to walk off whatever I was feeling and get over myself. Then I'd apologize to Charlie, maybe via wristcom to cut down on the embarrassment factor.

When I'm in a mood I have a set walking route through the ship that takes me in an approximately two kilometer circle and avoids the more populated areas. I unconsciously settle onto this path now, and after about ten minutes pull out my ear buds and connect them to my wristcom, dialing up one of the sullen, moody playlists I'd compiled with Beck's help. The music helped and after an hour of pacing up and down empty hallways I calm down.

"If I'm not mistaken, that's the strut of a boy that's not in a very good mood," a familiar voice states behind me.

I spin around, slightly startled since I'd been in deep thought, to see a mischievously smiling Sean and somewhat expressionless Dog. They looked freshly showered, and judging by the gym bag slung over Dog's shoulder I guess they've just come back from working out.

"Oh, hey guys," I replied, "what's new?" Sean and Dog were hot as ever – clad in tight white sleeveless t-shirts and some deliciously baggy shorts, Sean's red with blue and white stripes and Dog's a plain grey. I'd always thought of them as cute, but now every time I saw them about a thousand scenes of them `performing' in front of our wank club went running through my head. In my already sexually heightened state it made me start boning in my pants.

Sean's smirk was no less potent as he replies, "Not much, just grabbed a little workout. We're off for the day. But I want to hear what has Devon pacing the halls looking all serious and moody. And where the heck did you get those black eyes? You look like a flying lemur. C'mon, spill."

I roll my eyes. "Nothing really, just feeling a little bored and moody I guess. Thought I'd walk it off. And no, I didn't get into a fight. I just had a little accident last week. No big deal."

The usually quiet Dog spoke this time. "Well, you can say you're bored and moody all you want, Chasen, but don't think I can't tell you're trying to hide an erection, and not very well. Those aren't the shorts for it."

I turn about a million shades of red at the comment. Dang it, I was trying to hide a boner. I'd gotten riled thinking about Charlie, then these two show up all hot and freshly showered. "Well..."

I liked Sean and Dog, but we weren't quite close friend yet. Funny, you'd think I would consider them thus, having jerked them both off and them having returned the favor. Still, they were the two members of the wank club I was least familiar with, and although we'd started hanging out more we weren't quite buddy-buddy yet. Still, I liked the adorable duo, and to tell the truth it felt a little sensual to have them goading me. Still, I decide to play coy.

"Nothing's going on. Really. Just stressed from work, you know, and the boner, maybe a little, uh, excited about tomorrow is all. No news here, seriously."

"Ah," Dog answers. We turn and start walking down the hall, the boys stepping on either side of me.

Sean pauses for a moment and then says, "No news, eh? No news at all? Funny, that's not what Zane told us."

Wait, what? He told them. He told them what? About my black eyes? About our tryst in the storage room? That freaking pervert. All at once I was pissed – I'd forgiven Zane for being so cavalier before, but talking about sex stuff behind my back was way over the line. Without thinking about it I reply, "He told you? God dammit, that was private. I'm going to kill him."

"AH HA," Sean yelps triumphantly, "I knew it. I knew Zane wouldn't be able to keep his hands off you." He reaches across me to give Dog a high-five, their palms slapping together inches from my face. It takes me a second to realize I'd been tricked by one of the older ploys in the book. They'd made a wild guess about Zane and hit pay dirt. Dang it.

"Oh come on," I say, annoyed now, "that's not cool. At all."

Dog, the more sensitive of the two, seems to instantly regret their childishness. "Uh, sorry Devon. Look, we were just curious. You don't have to talk about it. If you want to know the truth, mister Zane has come calling on us in private too, and more than gossip we wanted to warn you that he's, well, I don't know, he's..."

Dog trails off and I finish his thought. "Yeah, I know, he's a slut. He gave me the whole `I've been with eight hundred people and like sleeping around' spiel. Don't worry, he was just, uh, teaching me a couple of, uh, moves."

Sean slaps my back. It's somehow reassuring. "Yeah, I bet he was. He's a good teacher. Any moves we should know about?"

And somehow, maybe specifically because I didn't know Sean and Dog that well, I felt instantly like opening up to them about a few things that have been on my mind since yesterday. We continue walking down the hallway and I begin my standard Devon babbling.

"I don't know," I start, "he sort of confused me. I mean, we were just playing around in one of the storage sheds," Sean arches his eyebrow at this, "and then for a second I thought he was going to, well, I thought he was going to, um, fuck me. But he didn't. He said my first time should be special, and I agreed. But it made me a little nervous. I mean, I know I'm gay and I know eventually I'll want to do...that. But I kind of, I don't know, I kind of don't know about it, you know?"

There's a slightly awkward pause and then Dog speaks up. "Well, what don't you know? I mean, it's fun. Unbelievably fun, actually. Nothing to get stressed about."

I stop walking, the others take an additional step before stopping as well. "Uh, you guys, um, do that?" I ask, feeling immediately that I've crossed a line.

Sean responds immediately and I realize I hadn't. "Well, duh Devon. We're clearly a couple, right? What do you think we get up to all alone at night, cribbage?" Dog chuckles and a weird image of a night of cribbage and anal sex pass through my head.

"Well..." I respond, "I guess I never thought about it, actually." We start walking again. "Uh, I can't really ask Zane about this. I mean, I can, but I don't want to. I know I'll meet the right guy and want to do it, or at least I hope I will, but I'm a little scared, or maybe uncertain. I mean, does it hurt? I wouldn't even really know what to do, where all the, uh, parts go. I mean, I do, but I don't, you know?"

Sean gives me a curious expression. "Um, actually, I don't know. Usually I have no idea what you're talking about, Devon. But that's ok, it's part of what makes you Devon."

"Hey," Dog interrupts him, "be nice. Devon's all new to this and it's cute." He takes my arm in his affectionately. I get the sense that Dog is a really compassionate and lovable guy in bed. He turns to me, "To answer your questions, no, it won't hurt too badly if you do it right, and I'm sure you'll do fine when the time comes. Don't let Zane get to you. He's experienced, probably a little too experienced to be honest, and I'm sure he could out-tool us all, but you're innocent and adorable and sensitive, and that'll make you a great lover no matter what activities you try in bed."

"Yeah," I sigh, "I know. You're right. I can watch some vids to get some ideas. And it's not like it's an urgent issue – I can't think of anyone I'd do that with right now."

"Not even Charlie?" Sean asks.

"Uh, no, we're just buds. Totally just buddies, and we'll never go that far because of that. But that's ok, I just need to find the right guy. And when I do, I'm sure I'll be fine. In the meantime, Zane just got me all curious about that part of sex, and it's something I've never been curious about before. That's all, no big deal."

We walk along and I realize I feel a little better for having expressed that. Maybe Sean and Dog were closer friends than I gave them credit for. After a couple of minutes Dog twirls behind me and takes up position on the other side of Sean, bending over and whispering in his ear while we stroll. It's slightly annoying, and to make it worse Sean is replying to whatever he's saying loud enough so that I can clearly hear him.

"Yeah?...Really?...No, I don't care," he laughs, "Well, if you want, but there's no way he'll say yes."

Dog spins back behind us to reassume his position to my right. I eye the two suspiciously. "Great," I say sarcastically, "Just what I need, guys. Gossip, not behind my back, but right next to me. Real classy."

Sean chuckles, "No, it's not that, it's just that Dog has something to ask you, but he's shy."

I look over to Dog and he blushes, shaking his head.

"Yeah, c'mon, you said it to me, you can say it to him," Sean coaxes.

Still, Dog shakes his head. "Ok, fine," Sean sighs, "SOMEONE, and I won't mention any names, wanted to know if maybe you wanted to come, uh, play with us for a bit. We know you're waiting for the right guy to go all the way with, but maybe in the meantime it would be helpful to watch more than a vid? And if not, we can always just play poker."

Now I'm the one blushing. The invitation was unexpected, but not necessarily unwanted. And I know what they mean by `playing poker', it's become our inside joke and has little to do with the card game.

"You don't have to, I mean if you don't want to," Dog says meekly, taking my hand in his. On the other side Sean grabs my other hand. Caught between these two guys, both hands held by the soft warmth of theirs, I instantly melt. Holy freak, how can I say no to that?

"Uh, um," I reply, a little more giggly than I'd have liked. Sean reaches his hand up my shirt and strokes my back, Dog following suit so that they are holding hands and rubbing me together. And with that move, sad to say, the seduction of Devon is over and the battle totally won by the other team. Argh, dang these teenage hormones.

I don't need to say much else, and they lead me down a couple of empty hallways to a flat in section twenty-six, which is another unoccupied floor. We enter one of the bedrooms and I see that it's furnished and slightly lived-in, the main bunk set up to be a king-sized bed, and a brown couch replacing the bunks along the other wall. Hmm, does everyone have a secret sex room in the unoccupied sections, or just us gay boys?

Dog smiles and explains that this is their private space, which I don't really need him to tell me. When they shut the door to the bedroom I get a little nervous, but Sean pats my stomach and reassures me that I have nothing to worry about – they're not going to try anything I don't want to do. Somehow, sandwiched between these two hot guys, I have a feeling the list of things I don't want to do won't be all that long.

They coax me down onto the center of the couch, which is surprisingly comfy. Dog sits to my left, but Sean remains standing over us. "Ok," he says, "in a second you can watch, but first let's get a little cozier."

I'm about to tell him I don't think I can be any cozier when he pulls his shirt over his head and off, Dog doing the same simultaneously. As I've said before, these two are smooth and tan and actually getting quite muscular, I assume because of the working out. Having two hot boys half naked next to me instantly shuts me up.

I move to take my shirt off as well, but Dog leans back against me and kisses my neck, pushing me against the back of the couch. He smells wonderful, and his kisses are light and sensual, as I might expect. Sean gently tugs on the legs of my shorts and I lift my butt a little in response, letting him slide them off my legs. I groan a little at the sensation of the fabric brushing against my legs.

Once I'm down to my undies and t-shirt, Sean hops on me, straddling my right leg; in one swift move he reaches down and kisses me firmly and wetly on my lips while also stroking my ever-expanding crotch with his hand. Dog is still kissing my neck and has started playing with my chest. Holy freaking crap – these two are a total sensual overload for me. I have no idea how I let myself get into this situation, but I'm sure as heck not trying too hard to get out of it.

I take turns, first kissing Sean deep on the lips and then rotating my head to be greeted by Dog's sensual mouth. They both taste delicious, but slightly different, and they kiss differently as well. Sean is aggressive and firm, clearly indicating a push for hotter and heavier petting, where Dog kisses lightly and innocently, making me melt and my tummy flutter with each caress of his tongue.

And then, while they both rub their warm hands over my thighs, occasionally grazing my fully-hard and increasingly wet erection, they move towards one another, kissing each other deeply and passionately, just inches from my face. It's a kiss that goes on for a while, Sean's tongue exploring Dog's mouth and then Dog's exploring Sean's. Their bodies are writhing against mine when they open their eyes and stare at one another, and for the first time I realize something. These two really, really love each other. This isn't just boy sex between them, like what Charlie and I have, this is the real thing. And they've let me into this part of their lives.

Maybe this more than anything spins my hormones out of control and puts me into sexual overdrive. Or maybe it's because I've spent about five minutes making out with these hot guys. Whatever the reason, I shift from passive to animated and begin returning affection to the boys, simultaneously reaching over to tug at Sean's waist band and pinch at Dog's nipple. The message is clear, we're all primed and ready, and as boys will do, we start stroking our own stomachs and one another's, wiggling in sexual anticipation and slowly losing our clothes piece by piece.

My hand is sitting right inside Sean's shorts, and I feel the fabric move downward as he pulls off his pants, gasping slightly when his erection springs free, his six inches curving slightly upward at the end, not as dramatically as Mike's, but still alluring somehow. Dog also pushes his pants to the floor, freeing his boner. It sits straight up flat against his tummy, and in our weekly poker games I could never resist pulling down on it and letting it slap back up against his abs, which he seems to enjoy, so I take the opportunity to do so now. He gasps and reaches in to kiss me a little more deeply.

I'm feeling pretty good, a naked erect hottie on either side of me, and I begin rubbing my own stomach in pleasure, pulling down at my white briefs and letting my manhood out to play. I don't know if it's to indicate that I'm `in training' or what, but somehow we all three wordlessly agree to leave my shirt on. Somehow it makes the scene a little hotter – me bare-assed with my boner extending from just under the hem of my tee and them totally nude. We start making out again, this time considerably less innocently, my hands exploring one erection then another. Argh, sex with two people, I discover, is pretty intense. They're hitting like thirty-five erogenous zones at once, exploring me with their hands and tongues. Dog is even stroking my toes with his, which turns me on even more.

"Ok," Sean moans after a little more petting and kissing, "I think it's safe to say we're all aroused." I look at our three erections, all happy and proud in a line. I smile back at him, a little goofily. He stands and takes Dog's hand, pulling him off the couch and towards the bed. My body instantly misses the warmth of the two of them against me. Dang it.

Dog gives me a sad frown, telling me he's also sorry to physically part, but follows Sean onto the bed. "K," he says, "you do whatever you want over there with yourself and just watch. Let's see if this eases your mind a little about sex."

The two climb up on the bed and continue stroking one another. Eventually Sean lies back, putting his arms behind his head, sighing in pleasure as Dog rubs his chest and stomach and erection from above him. The two have a natural fluidity together, one I assume comes from a heck of a lot of experience at this. I'm enjoying the show, slowly caressing my own slick and fully throbbing cock, but I'm also intrigued, and that has taken a bit of the sexual edge off.

Dog reaches over the side of the bed and produces a small bottle. He flips up the cap and squirts some clear liquid in his hand, smearing it first on his dick and then reaching under Sean to rub some on his hole. I then realize that it's actually Dog who's about to fuck Sean, and I smile at this, somehow finding it amusing that it's not the other way around.

Once lubed, Dog gets up on his knees and moves to Sean's side, pulling Sean's left leg up against his chest while Sean groans and moves his other leg as far up the bed as he comfortably can. Dog looks very serious, but very turned on as he moves into position. Huh, see, now this is a sexual position that I'd never think of. It's like the missionary position, but weirdly from the side, which is giving me a good view.

And a good view is exactly what I get as Dog presses up against Sean's anus, first maneuvering his cock up and down against the newly lubed ring of muscle, and then when he's satisfied his partner is ready, slipping his head just into the hole. At this moment three things happen. First, Sean groans in pleasure. Second, Dog grunts equally pleasurably. Third, my jaw drops, I feel a little like a voyeur, and a big glob of precum comes dripping out of my dick and into my hand. Holy cow, they were right, this is hotter than hot.

And then they're fucking, Dog holding Sean's thigh tightly against his chest while he slowly and sensually moves in and out of him. He's also stroking Sean with his free hand, and as Sean groans and writhes on the bed I find I can't really tell if he's getting more pleasure from Dog's hand or his dick. Maybe both, but I continue staring open-mouthed at the two boys.

I change positions on the couch, getting up on my knees so that I have better access to my erection. As I move, Dog looks up at me and smiles. His eyes are glazed over with lust, and the smile is pure sex. Somehow, our eye contact at this point is the most intimate part of the afternoon, him deep inside his boyfriend and me deep inside, well, my fist. Hmm, maybe there's something to that whole thing about a partner being far superior to your hand. I'd never thought so before, but seeing Dog begin to sweat and groan while fucking Sean, I had a newfound appreciation for two-man sex games.

After a few minutes, the two change positions, Dog rotating around between Sean's legs and pushing his ankle upward, penetrating him again but in the more familiar missionary position. Sean lets out a loud grunt when Dog slips inside – I knew that part of the pleasure of anal sex was the stimulation of the prostate (I know, I'm such a nerd, thinking of science even at a time like this), and I guessed Dog was now in a pretty good position to be hitting this most private spot.

The get into a groove, Dog holding onto Sean's ankles and thrusting back and forth, and Sean jerking himself with each thrust. Sean's face is one of intense pleasure, so much so that there's a little pain, and I understand now that part of penetrative sex is that it does hurt a little, but that it's a good hurt.

The two move in perfect symmetry to one another, Dog's hips thrusting and pushing his oh-so-sexy tummy back and forth, and Sean's legs wrapped perfectly on either side of his partner, his ankles resting on Dog's hips and his calves providing the perfect handholds to give Dog the leverage he needs. And the sight of Dog's erect dick sliding in and out has me salivating – I knew sex was, wow, but I never knew it was like this. It struck me in this moment that this was clearly what the male human body was designed for. Forget walking. Forget sports. Forget heterosexual sex, it was obvious that four billion years of evolution had occurred so that two boys could come together like this. Everything fit just right, they were like one perfectly functioning machine.

As Dog pushes deeper and deeper into Sean I got the feeling neither of these two were thinking about evolution, well, not on a conscious level at least. Dog is wildly grunting, smiling in lust at his partner, and I find that as he moves faster I do the same on my own, sadly lonely, dick. And then, about as suddenly as things began, they come to a climax.

"Ugh, oh, I'm gonna cum baby," Sean says, opening his eyes and looking up at Dog. Dog smiles back and thrusts a little slower and harder. It does the trick, and Sean gasps loudly, the first spray of his ejaculation hitting him right in the eye. Ouch. He doesn't miss a beat, though (literally), and jacks his dick off through the rest of his orgasm, unloading on his chest and stomach. Dog pulls out and begins furiously pumping his own shaft, just after affectionately reaching up and wiping the semen off Sean's eyelid. Whoa, something about that is both cute and sexy.

It doesn't take Dog long to cum, and it doesn't take me long either. We stare at each other, smiling at the intimacy of mutual masturbation with four feet of open space between us. I don't know if he grunts first and pushes me over the edge or if I moan and push him over, but we both come and we both come hard. I try to keep my eyes open to see the sexy Dog screw up his face in pleasure and spray on Sean, with limited success, since I hit my orgasm hot and heavy at the same time and spray all over the floor, almost falling off the couch.

As we pant and wind down, the sheer sexiness of the scene hits me. Sean is covered in semen, and Dog and I are covered in a fine sheen of sex-induced sweat. I guess we'll all need a shower. Dog catches his breath and gives me a little nod to motion me over to the bed, patting a spot where he wants me to sit. I comply, plopping down on the warm and squishy mattress. The two boys move to either side of me, hugging and cuddling me in our afterglow, and I find it really endearing. Yeah, I guess I have room in my life for friends like Sean and Dog.

When I leave, about an hour later and after a shower and some shameless flirting in the bathroom, I have a general glow about me (or at least I assume I do). It's been a weird week. Lots of sex, but I've learned a lot too. Sean and Dog were right – watching them made me more comfortable about the whole topic. I'm still a little scared that when I do get to the point where I want to try it I will be terrible at it, but some of that fear has abated, and I guess when I meet the right guy the rest will too.

I'm super relaxed and decide to head to Charlie's room. I owe him an apology, I now realize, having worked out my sexual frustrations with someone else. Well, two someone elses. When I get to the flat I peek shyly into the room with the espresso clothes making thing, expecting him to see me and bite my head off. He's not there, though, but the machine does look a little more assembled. Or a little less, it's hard to tell.

He's not in the wank room, either, but I finally find him in the bedroom reading his instruction manual. He looks up when I enter the room and smiles, he seems relieved to see me.

"Devon! Hey, I'm glad you came back. Look, I was rude earlier. I'm sorry. I was just excited about my project."

I smile at him, this innocent boy who always thinks an argument is his fault. Sigh, the world is a harsh place for guys like that, I just hope no one ever tries to take advantage of him because of it. I know I sure as heck won't. "Charlie, Charlie," I reply, "look, you don't have anything to apologize for. I was horny and being childish. You were right to snap, I was an ass. I'm the one who needs to apologize."

He looks a little confused at first, as if it's never crossed his mind that I was wrong in any capacity. And then he smiles back, ever so endearingly, my best friend who will always be able to make my heart melt. "Wellllllll..." he says timidly, extending the word for a really long time, "If we're done being angry, maybe we could still have that tumble."

And here's the thing. I'd had sex with Mike on Monday, Zane on Wednesday, and just an hour ago I'd been at it with Sean and Dog. Besides that, I'd jerked off, what? Maybe twenty times since Monday. Sorry to say, Charlie's request had come at the end of a long week, and I had no more energy, no more hormones, and sadly no more spunk to expend on him.

Yeah, right.

I grin devilishly and leap across the room, straddling Charlie and making him drop his book. He howls in surprise and delight and my sudden display of sexual energy, and I begin rubbing our crotches together. His familiar smell wafts up and seems to embrace me, and I have a feeling this is going to be a pretty damn good tumble.

And you know what? It was.

This ends act one of this story, stay tuned (well, not literally) - Devon and friends will return in Chapter 9: March of the Underwear Brigade!