That Was Then But...? Pt.2 October 16, 2000
This is the second part of a gay relationship account. If anyone is underage or offended by such, please exit now.
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More of THE BEGINNING:
It was Monday, the day "after" and time for school to start. I had told my mom that my "cold" was better, in case I still looked flushed from the preceding day's activities. The school bus was late. Lance didn't ever take the bus, as he got a ride each morning from his dad. The thirty minute ride seemed two hours long. I was eager to see Lance, yet, scared to death at what he might say or how he might react. I got off the bus, but saw no sign of him. In high school we had no classes together. The first chance I would get to see him was lunch...if I lived that long.
Twelve noon came and I entered the cafeteria. I looked far and wide, left and right until I finally saw him. He was seated at a table for four with three girls. I froze. Should I approach? Should I wave? Should I speak or just stand there like a dumb-ass? You guessed it. I should have started "braying". I went through the cafeteria line only getting a dessert and a carton of milk. I would probably throw this up from nerves. Why wouldn't he look at me? Why hadn't he looked for me with the same anticipation I had had for him? The 30 minute lunch break was over. The bell rang and now it was time for Activities. He managed to avoid me and lose himself in the crowd. Seventh and eighth period classes seemed more like a funeral home wake for me. The last bell rang and school was over for the day. I went to my locker, got my jacket and books and raced out the door hoping to catch a glimpse of him. I did, I saw him getting in the car of two girls who he usually got a ride from to go home. I waited for the bus. I wanted to break into tears. That, which was so wonderful, had suddenly turned into a nightmare. The house was empty when I got home. I picked up the phone and dialed his number...No answer. I thought I would wait until I knew his parents were home, after dinner and try to call him again. Seven o'clock, I called again. His mom answered and I asked to speak to him. After a long wait, he finally came to the phone.
"Lance?" I called.
Silence.
Again, "Lance, are you all right?".
"Yeah, sure," he said in a slovenly tone.
"Are you sorry, sick, guilty,...what? You ignored me all day." I said.
"I'm fine. Hey listen, I can't talk, right now. I gotta go" was his only reply. My heart sank.
He avoided me the rest of the week, not even speaking in the halls at school.
Friday night was football night and we usually went to the Chow Hound for burgers after the game. We always had. The game was over and I joined some other friends who were going to the burger dive. As I started in, I ran into Lance. He smiled and said, "Hi!" as if things were always the same between us. I said "Hi" in a puzzled reflexion. He said, "Let's go eat! Did you enjoy the game? We beat the shit out of them!".
I sat down, next to him at a table with six other classmates. We, all, laughed, cut-up, and had a big celebration over the team's victory. Was it my imagination or was Lance pressing his leg next to mine under the table? I moved my leg away from his, but he scooted his further over and pressed me again. Was this physical contact a form of communication? God, I hoped so. We all started to leave and he said, "You coming over to the house tonight? I mean, we always go to my house for the late movie on Friday Night".
"Of course, why should tonight be different?" I answered.
We got to his house, went into his bedroom and turned on his 13" TV he had gotten a pawn shop. Goddammmit! The late show was fucking, "Battle Cry". Shit! Here I was, going to lie in bed with Lance and watch Tab Hunter take off his pants all in the same evening.
Hopefully I asked, "Would you rather turn off the TV and talk?"
"Hell, no," he said, "I wanna watch "Battle Cry". I've never seen it." Shit! Shit! Shit! is all I could think.
We laid down on his bed, side by side, about two feet apart. About halfway through, before "that scene", Lance reached over and gently held my hand. Shivers went through my body. Then his leg moved over, touching mine. We stayed that way for a while until he rolled over on his side and embraced me, our crotches touching and beginning to transform into an erect state. He hugged me while grinding his loins into mine. Almost at the same time we said together, "I've missed you this week." We laughed. He reached down and started rubbing my crotch and brought my hand down to touch him there.
"I needed time to think. I still don't know if what we did last Sunday was wrong, but I think it would be okay if we did it again. But, not tonight. Not with my parents here. They are going to visit my mother's sister tomorrow. Can you come over about 2:30?"
"I'll be here at 2:29!" was my quick reply. He slid his arm under my head to use for a pillow and we watched the rest of the movie, just like a young boy and girl,in love, would. I did keep my right hand resting on his zipper fly, though.
Saturday, 2:30 arrived and I knocked on his door. When he opened it, I was stunned! He was stark naked!
"Well, are we going to suck or are you just going to stand there and gawk? We only have 'til five o'clock." he exclaimed.
We rushed to his bedroom, pulling off my clothes as I went. I was down to my Jockey shorts by the time we got there. I started to remove them and he said, "Wait! I'll do that!". He got on his knees and grabbed the elastic waistband with his teeth and pulled them down. I was already hard. He knew it and took me all the way into his hot mouth, touching his tonsils at the back of his throat. He was going down on me in such a rage, I felt like a big beef bone that had just been given to a Labrador Retreiver. He wanted me. I wanted him. I pushed him. He fell backwards and I made a lunge for his big piece of meat which I now called "mine". After a few minutes of that pleasure, he turned around and we assumed "the" position, I was so sure I had invented, and we 69'd ferociously until we both gushed forth a great white tidal wave. We licked ourselves clean. We looked at each other and laughed. "Wanna do it again" was written in our eyes. We both made a dive for each other and did it again... and then again...and then, the clock was about to strike "five". No wonder Cinderella left her shoe. She couldn't find it. I know, because I couldn't find where I had strewn my clothes on the way to my prince's bedroom.
I left, just as his parents were pulling in the driveway.
We met, whenever we could, for our short trysts and interludes. One time we even slipped in the back of the church on a weekday and had sex in the bathroom, there. Lance, soon was sixteen and his dad, unlike my mother, thought he was old enough to have his own car, provided he paid for it out of his allowance and the money Lance was making by sacking groceries at the local Whitehall Store. Now we could go places and make-out, away from the houses and from the fear of being "caught" by a mom or dad. The only thing was, my over-protective mother warned me not to get in the car with Lance. "He is entirely too young to drive and I don't want you getting killed in that car!" Shit! Shit! Shit! I would find a way. I was a born actor. The first time we went off in his car, had only driven about three blocks and he reached between my legs and said, "Come on, let me feel that thing!".
Throughout our entire junior year and most of our senior year we had sex every chance we got. He started dating a girl and "going steady" just for "show", as did I. We would take out dates home on Friday nights, and break our necks to meet afterwards for our weekly "getting off". I was in love, and I prayed to God, he was too. I knew I was gay, but we never discussed his choice. I, at times, in my jealousy, thought he was getting too serious with his "girl". He looked so "right" with her. Damn, I wanted them to "break up", but it didn't happen. One Friday night, about two months before graduation. I went by his house and his car was gone. I, now, was driving my mother's car on dates (again, for "show"). I decided to drive around and try to find him at one of our spots. I must have driven close to two hours before I saw him. As I was waiting for the light to change, he drove by on the dissecting road. He was not alone. He was not with his girl. He was with Kyle Phillips, a very attractive, very rich kid from the junior class. He was taking Kyle home...Home, from where??? This was Friday night...OUR night...why was Kyle sitting where I should have been. I followed them and they went into Kyle's fancy five bedroom house. I waited. I waited an hour. Knowing how late it was getting and also knowing that my mother would "ground" me for a week for having her car out so late. I left, crying all the way home...angry, puzzled, but most of all...hurt. I couldn't or wouldn't believe it. Lance and Kyle? Were they "doing our thing". God, I was furious.
(to be continued)