I was so angry with Tim. I couldn't believe that what just happened actually happened. I was so wrapped up in the situation that I was in just stone cold disbelief. With other boys, it wasn't quite this painful. Well maybe because I had thought that I had gotten much better at it (you know how it is when the ego gets bruised.)
Dan:
He was so new to me. So new to my senses. Dan was the first boy that I was able to fully understand my sexuality because he was the epitome of everything I wanted in a man - strong, boyish with a slight Lolita presence and attractive. He had this beautiful blonde hair accented with strips of golden brown highlights. He had this toothy smile and strong face. I was in love with him in middle school.
I did all of his homework and defended him in sticky situations. I showered him with compliments. He, in turn, protected me from the other students who didn't like me. He would try to teach me to also stand on my own. I admired and was attracted to him. Plus he was sexy as all hell: he had this toned, football players body with not too many muscles but solid build. Dan was always tanned and always energized but he always also looked dirty. And not like filthy dirty but "I just got done playing backyard football/building something" dirty. He was the boy that always wished I could be.
I twisted our relationship though when I came out when I was 14. My hormones got the best of me; I had to touch him. I told Dan that I was gay on our last day of classes in the eight grade. "Oh," he said after a stunned beat. "That's cool." Relieved, I told him how much I was in love with him but respected the fact that he probably wasn't gay, and wanted to continue the friendship but also wanting to get this weight lifted off my shoulders. "Oh," he said after a stunned beat. "That's cool. I'm not gay by the way." "I know, I figured." I said slightly disappointed. Dan then leaned over to me and gave me a reassuring hug, Whispering in my ear, "We're still cool, Tom." I wanted to melt.
Shit went sour when we went into high school that following fall. He had to keep up appearances and being friends with the "school fag" wasn't helpful. You see, I only told Dan my secret; it got around to the whole school without my permission. I thought things were going to be fine until I walked into high school and someone walked past - someone that I used to speak with - and called me a "fag." When I confronted Dan about it, he shrugged his shoulders at me. With his friends looking on, he then proceeded to tell me that it was bound to get around sometime because "I didn't hang around any girls or play any sports." I couldn't believe he said that. I thought I was different. I thought I was special. I thought that even though his friends were dicks that we could still be friends regardless. I thought he was comfortable enough to do it. But sexual tension is uncomfortable. Well, we never spoke after that but we did reunite sometime later. He started dating some girl from our hometown that actually ended up attending my school clear across state - it's a small fucking world. Dan came up to visit her and I just so happened to be in the cafeteria at the same time. We said "hello," caught up on superficial bullshit and went on pleased that the other one was still relatively happy.
Today with Tim hit me hard because somehow I thought that he might actually be gay and that I was his catalyst. I thought that I had a fucking chance. Eyes locked, knees touched, conversations met. I was fucking in but then I lost my way. I lost my way with Justin.
Justin:
I met this boy at anti-drug and alcohol camp my junior year in high school. I was growing a little more comfortable in my skin. During the later months in my sophomore year, I befriended this really awesome ally - Mandy Johnson. Mandy was a year older than me and already went through the "school fag" phase of her life so she provided a lot of support for me. I was like her pupil to be shaped and observed. Long story short: Mandy got me involved with everything to get my mind of the pain of being ostracized in school. I got involved in theatre, journalism and activism because of her. I went to the anti-drug and alcohol camp with Mandy junior year.
I bunked with Justin and four other boys during that weekend in October. He caught my eye because he looked like Dan: strong, boyish with a slight Lolita presence and attractive but just a little less fit. Justin's fat was cute. He had crystal blue eyes that were so large and expressive. I remember listening to him talk one night and being lost inside them. During one of our talks, we played a game similar to "truth or dare". Foolishly adolescent, I realize but, hey, we were adolescents.
"I dare you to let me kiss you?" "Alright." He sneered at me. I was shocked at his response and hesitantly began to inch forward thinking he'd flinch. Justin did not flinch. So I moved closer to him, breathing onto him. Justin did not flinch but his eyes grew hungry. So I moved closer to him and pressed myself onto him. Justin did not flinch but his body lunged closer to me. The kiss was soft and innocent. We smiled.
I twisted the relationship by being too aggressive. Since I wasn't able to get this far with Dan but I could get this far with a guy who reminds me of Dan, so then I wanted more. You see, Justin and I barely saw each other after camp but kept connected on the phone. I'd whine about never seeing him and he'd make empty promises to come up and see me. I'd wait impatiently for him to show up and he never would. And even though I recognized the pattern after the third time, I still fell victim to it. Justin and I fucked twice - once because, we both were desperate; twice because it was late; and both experiences were unsatisfying. I never got off and Justin became overwrought with guilt because we were fooling around when he was still dating this girl named, Kristy. I wanted him to leave Kristy for me. I became, in his mind then, the other woman that wouldn't leave him alone. I think I scared him away.
I think I scared Tim away. It was great when the interactions were ambiguous. It became too weird for him when labels were attached to them. But I thought our interactions were different. I thought that he would drop his whole life as a straight man and fall in love with me. But I scared him away for loving the idea of us too much.
Joe:
Joe was gay but suffered under the weight of his torment in high school and developed this overpowering self-hatred. He did have this twinkle in his eye that called out for comfort. I saw that. Joe pulled away when I tried to comfort him though because he was told that I wasn't supposed to comfort him. I wasn't supposed to reach him.
Joe did let me in when he was fucked up on drugs. Joe was real bad into drugs during his tenure at my college. During his altered state, he'd allow himself to be comforted by gay men and be able to excuse its aftermath because of the drugs. But when I did touch him - and he touched me - it was magnetic. We had such a connection. One night, without provocation, Joe started to stroke my baldhead. I was relieved to finally get touched there without having to tell someone to do it. I fell deeper in love with him that night.
Joe had the perfect dick - it was perfectly sized. It was slightly short but had wonderful girth. It had a wide bottom but an equally wide bell end. Joe's dick always smelled a little funky but it was due to the massive curly hair that enveloped his member. He loved to have his balls played with and they were nice. His balls were large and round with light wisps of hair surrounding them. He loved it when I put them in my mouth, and hummed. He loved it when I tongued the spot right in between the two testicles. He'd shiver. He loved it when I tongued the skin right below the shaft of his erect cock. He loved it when I tugged at the skin with my pink, swollen mouth. He'd shiver. Joe came with a shiver. It made me feel cocky (for lack of better words). Honestly though, When Joe would come by my manipulations, it would fill me with pride. I loved the taste of his cum too; his was the only one I swallowed.
I twisted the relationship though when I wanted to settle my life with Joe. I didn't want to do anything but be with Joe. I got so much of the relationship that I came to identify, solely, by it. I made sure that I was with him as often as I could and would feel slighted when I wasn't. I think that I not only scared him but made him pity me. He began to gain control over me. He knew that I was crazy for him so he took advantage of it to get what he wanted and giving me, in return, half- heartedness or reluctance. I slowly recognized that this was the case and pulled away.
I think Tim started to notice that I pulled away when he aggressively asked me to go fishing with him this morning. From that, I tried to voyage back into him when I heard that exchange between Tim and his friend. It made me realize that I was making the same mistakes all over again. Just like with Dan, Justin and Joe. But I was hurt not because he said these things about me but that I didn't catch the signs or I twisted the relationship foolishly.
Two days later, on a sweltering Thursday afternoon, Tim knocked on my door. "Hey," he said reluctantly. "What's up?" I wanted to smack him in his mouth. "What's up?" I repeated snidely. How could you ask me that when just days ago I found out you thought I was a "fag". I went to shut my door in his face when he stopped me. "Hey, I'm really sorry about what happened," he began. "But I really didn't want to lose all of my friends for hanging out with you too much." Really? I thought to myself. Did I really take it too far? Sometimes during our conversations, there'd be funny sexual innuendos that were thrown out but one night I crossed the line I think:
Tim and I were up late talking in his room. He left to go wash his face and apparently got distracted by some friends. He was gone for a bit so I lay down in his bed, which was the location of our discussion. I then fell asleep. I was tired and stressed out from the week and that night was my only free night at all; his bed was very inviting. His roommate awakened me. He happened to come back a day earlier so when he found me, he just carried me back to my room where I passed out again. The next day, Tim was acting very strange around me so I confronted him and he said it was nothing. Then, in the hours before we were supposed to go fishing, he ran into Joel and had that conversation about me.
"I want to be friends, Tom but I think we just need a break or something will happen." I was about say "fuck that" to that, but then Tim cast his eyes downward. "Something like `what' will happen, Tim?" I pressed. He leaned over and kissed me And just said, "this." Fucking Tease, I said to him.fucking fool, I said to myself.
(A reader, who wanted more, inspired this. Do you like? Comments?)