8 comments/ 63758 views/ 7 favorites Friends 'til the End By: HVidese Hey everyone! This is my first attempt at Part 1 of a potentially ROMANTIC story, so if you're looking to get your rocks off quickly, this is not the story for you. For those of you who are interested in reading, I truly hope you enjoy it! H.D. --------------------------------- "I can do this...I know I can." Adam repeated this mantra continuously, hoping that he would convince himself that he would be able to get through it. He looked absolutely ridiculous; standing in front of a floral-framed mirror in the bathroom of his current girlfriend's house. His thick brown hair was disheveled, his Levi's dangerously unbuttoned, and his remaining sock had a hole in the toe. He looked at himself in the mirror, and saw a bead of sweat threatening to fall on his bare chest that was rapidly rising and falling. "I can do this," he repeated once more, "what the hell is wrong with me?" This was not the first time Adam encountered this problem. No more than a month ago did he have the exact same panic attack, albeit with another girl. No one could blame him; he was in fact what most teenaged girls called "the hottest fucking guy they'd ever seen". With 19 years of age under his belt, his future looked extremely bright, in both the educational and aesthetical sense. At 6'3", Adam pretty much towered over the remaining seniors at Thurgood High, except for the Varsity basketball players, but who knew what "physical enhancers" they were taking. But yes, he was your typical Casanova, except for one anomaly: he was still a virgin. With his piercing blue eyes, muscular, sturdy frame, varsity letter for wrestling, and an SAT score of 1460, he was many a high school girl's wet dream, yet he hadn't gone through with the dirty deed despite countless offers. Whenever presented with the opportunity to have sex, Adam would break out into a cold sweat and run for the nearest door. Don't get me wrong, he took full advantage of the countless blowjobs under the bleachers in the gym or in the backseat of his car, but when it came time to have actual sex, he fled. "Babe, is everything okay?" The overzealous voice of his girlfriend, Melissa, snapped him out of his zombie-like state. "Yeah, I'm fine. I'll be out in a second." Adam began to pace, constantly running his fingers through his hair. All of a sudden, he stopped dead in his tracks, as though struck by lightning. He heard Missy's squeaky voice coming from the bedroom. "Hey Jules. Oh, no, I'm getting ready to study for my final tomorrow...." "Thank God. A phonecall. That should buy me some time." He looked at his pathetic reflection in the mirror. "Who am I kidding? All the time in the whole fucking world can't help me." He glanced at the tiny bathroom window. Damn. Too small and too high to jump out of. After a panic-stricken 10 minutes had passed, Adam finally mustered up the courage to go out there and at least try to go through with it, but wasn't given a chance. "What's taking so long??" Missy had burst through the door, dressed in a teddy that was far too large for her and hung off her tiny frame, and she had somehow gotten hold of pink stilettos that had the little fluff of feathers on top. Adam had to bite his lip to stop himself from laughing at this attempt to get him in the sack (which, by the way, was NOT working). "I've been waiting for hours." "Pfft. Hours? I've been in here for 20 minutes, tops." "Whatever. Are you ready? Julie's gonna be home in an hour and I still have to study for tomorrow's final," she whined. Missy had long ago given up on being coy as a means of trying to get Adam in bed and figured that plain old consistent nagging would eventually do the trick. She swore up and down that she was getting carpal tunnel from all the hand jobs she'd given him, and a convenient canker sore made it "deathly painful" for her to suck him off. Adam saw this as a perfect way out. "Oh shit! I forgot that I was supposed to help Kyle with his paper. You know how he's been struggling in Zihlman's. Zihlman's an asshole, especially with the jocks." "Must you use that word? You're only making it worse for yourself, I mean, you're a jock. Isn't that like, a perpetuation of self-prejudice?" "I don't have a problem with it. Anyway, I'm gonna go help Kyle before I have to listen to his nagging all day tomorrow about how my wife has me pussy-whipped and how I've ditched my best friend of 15 years so I could get some." Adam began to make his way into the bedroom, but Missy stopped him. "Is there something wrong with me? Am I too skinny? Too ugly? If you don't want me, please just give me a logical reason instead of running away." Adam felt horrible at the fact that he made the girl feel self-conscious. She wasn't in the least too skinny, or ugly. In fact, she was almost perfect. Missy, too, was well up on the "Most Fuckable" list at Thurgood, and she took advantage of this, indeed. She had been sexually active since she was 15, which is why she found it so difficult to be denied in bed. "Missy. Don't be like this. You know you're the hottest chick at Thurgood. I'm just... I don't know. I'm still getting over my last girlfriend, and it's kinda tough to get her out of my head." He lied. "I just want to be sure that when we do it, it's just you and me; Not you, me, and her." "Awww. Okay, baby. I wouldn't want to pressure you." Adam didn't hide his frustration at this. He was fed up with her subtle comments about him being the bitch of the relationship and constantly patronizing him. "God damn it, Missy. Why do you have piss me off with this emasculating bullshit??" She tried mouthing a response, but Adam pushed right past her into her room, grabbed his t-shirt that was hanging haphazardly off of her lampshade, his worn-out Converse from under the bed, and silently jogged downstairs to the front door where he got dressed as best he could, closed the door behind him, and began the trek to Kyle's house. "Shit. I left my damn jacket there." He got about 2 blocks from Missy's house when he noticed that he was missing still missing a sock, but he couldn't care less. He figured that this would be the straw that broke the camel's back with Missy. He was finally free from their sexless relationship, and not a moment too soon. This was the usual process with Adam: He'd pick up on some girl who'd been pining for him and simply ride out the relationship...till it came time for sex. He'd take all freebie hand and blowjobs, but when actual sex became an issue, it was pretty much over in his eyes. This may present a problem for an average teenager, seeing as how word would get around that the man wouldn't put out, but as said before, there was a long waiting list to be Adam's nameless girlfriend. About 15 minutes later, and with a blister forming on his left foot, he arrived at Kyle's place. The green Ford Explorer in the driveway meant that he and Kyle wouldn't be able to write the paper over a few beers, seeing as his parents were actually home. This isn't to say that Kyle's folks were deadbeats, but they were both research psychobiologists working on a groundbreaking stem-cell research project that kept both Kyle's parents at the office for 70 hour weeks, so them being home was indeed an oddity. Adam stopped at the stained-glass front door. "Wipe Your Feet, Stupid", the welcome mat told him, and he smirked out of delight knowing that Kyle had put his birthday gift to good use. He was unsure of whether or not to ring the bell; Kyle's parents' presence made him uneasy for some reason. He didn't have to wait long for his mind to be made for him. The door was almost ripped off the hinges, and there stood an agitated Kyle. At 6'1", Kyle was also a sexual force to be reckoned with. His body was nearly identical to Adam's but was tanner due to the fact that he was on the varsity water polo team. His sandy-blonde wavy hair constantly got in the way of his emerald green eyes, but didn't affect the depth one could easily see in them. "What the hell took you so long?! You know this has to be in Zihlman's box by 9 tomorrow. He's gonna shit all over me." Adam had to stifle his laughter. Here was his 19 year old best friend wearing a Pokemon t-shirt and pajama pants with booties attached. He looked him up and down and raised his eyebrow. "Nice PJs." "Give me a fucking break. It's laundry day and Jenna says they make me even sexier than I already am... If that's humanly possible." Adam cringed at the name, knowing that Jenna, being Kyle's 8 month-long girlfriend, had been incessantly nagging about the fact that Kyle spent more time with Adam than he did with her. "Well, she must've been trying to get you in the sack because I've never seen you look and more ridiculous." "Are you gonna help me with my paper or not? I'm freaking out, man. If I don't get at least a B+, my GPA's gonna go down the shitter; Which means no UCLA, which means no dorming together, which means no fun for the rest of your life. Got it?" Another jock worried about his GPA. What's the world coming to? "Well, maybe if you actually let me in, I'll consider it." "Sorry dude." Kyle finally stepped aside and let Adam in. "When you think about it, you helping me with my essay is basically you helping yourself. I mean, what'll you do without me at UCLA? Your life will have no meaning!" "Fuck you, dickweed." After the exchanges of greetings occurred, they both headed upstairs to Kyle's room to start on the paper. After chewing the fat for a few minutes, the guys actually got their work done, and within three hours, "Nature vs. Nurture in Regards to Sociopathy" was complete. "I can't wait to see the look on that geezer's face when I hand him this baby." "Yeah. Me too." Adam quickly changed the subject seeing as he didn't want to talk, think, or hear anything about school anymore. "So, Missy and I are probably over." "WHAT?! What the hell happened?!" "I just—" "—You did that thing again, didn't you? She tried fuck you and you flipped out again, am I right?" God. It sounded even worse when someone else said it. A 19 year old alpha-male in his prime...unable to put out. "If you must know...Yes. That is what happened." "Dude. She's smokin'. If you can't make it with her, I really don't know what to tell you. I mean, this has been going on since you were 14. Ever since you and, what's her face," Kyle closed his eyes tightly, trying to remember a name, "—Kara Lindley! Holy shit. Kara Lindley! I remember it as though it were yesterday!" "Alright, alright. There's no need to rehash those days." Adam looked down at his foot, feeling the sensitive skin of the freshly-forming blister. He winced in discomfort. "Dude, what's up with your foot?" "I got a blister walking over here to help your sorry ass. I left my sock in Missy's r—." Adam caught himself before he divulged and further embarrassing tidbits from his uneventful afternoon. Kyle smirked, but said nothing. "Do you wanna stay over?" "Is it cool with you parents? I don't really know them and I don't know how to act." "Don't sweat it man. I'm sure they'll be out of the house by 10. We can get a pizza, have some brews and veg out." "Sounds good to me." Kyle, being true to his word, ordered a pizza just as soon as his folks left at around 10; just as expected. Adam and Kyle had stripped down to their skivvies and a T-shirt and plopped on the couch for a long night of relaxing and just plain old shooting the shit. Adam decided now was a better time than any to call his mom up and tell him he was staying over at Kyle's. He made his way into the kitchen to use the phone. 10 minutes later, a visibly upset Adam plopped himself on the couch. "What's up?" "That bitch called my mom and told her that I'm gay, which is why I can't sleep with her. Can you believe that shit?! Now my mom wants to take me to some therapist to 'sort out my issues'." At this, Kyle laughed so hard he spit out the watered down light beer he was sipping. "Gay?? You're shitting me. Man. Missy really is a bitch. That's harsh." Seeing that Adam was visibly upset by this comment, he decided to try and push his buttons to see how far he could go. "Now that I come to think about it..." "Shut the fuck up. I'm not gay, asshole." The broad smile on Kyle's face let on that he was joking, but he still kept on. "I mean, you can't perform with chicks. Hot chicks even. Chicks that are willingly putting out! Seriously though, how long have you been attracted to men?" "You're an ass." Both guys were laughing now, but Adam felt somewhat odd. A little confused even. He had never even thought of men in THAT WAY, but now he started wondering if maybe there was something wrong with him in that sense. I mean, why couldn't he make it with girls? He couldn't be gay. He liked women. He loved blowjobs from them. He got his rocks off, and that was that. Their banter lasted for about 15 minutes and the pizza had not arrived, so they flipped on the TV and tuned into Ultimate Fighting. "This is brutal. It's basically like a drunken bar fight but with a referee." "You think any contact sport is brutal, Ms. Synchronized Swimming." "Screw you. It's water polo, you douche. Anyway, I bet I could spar with a few of these guys." Adam figured now was the time to get back at him for the "Gay" comments he was making earlier. "Whatever. You wouldn't even last one round in Thurgood's wrestling ring with a JV girl." "That's it. Let's go. Right now, bitch." Kyle had leapt off of the sofa and began pushing the coffee table out into the kitchen. There was now a squared area in the living room for the "fight" to take place. "Please. This is embarrassing," Adam quipped, "You wouldn't want to get hurt before the final game versus the Hawks, would you? They handed you guys your asses last two times." "Screw you. Let's do it." From his tone, one could tell that Kyle was joking but still wanted to show that he could indeed beat Adam, a 2-time champ and all-out wrestling God at Thurgood. "I guess I'll have to humor you." The two guys got into position on the little rug where the coffee table once was. "Go!" Kyle immediately lunged for Adam's legs, and was unsuccessful. Before he knew it, Adam was right on top of him from behind, with his arms somehow being pinned behind his back. "That was—fool..ish." Both guys were exerting all their strength to try and make the other submit. Sweat was already gathering on their foreheads as they spat and swore. "Screw....YOU..ouch—dammit...Just...let me—" In one swift move, Adam had Kyle on his back on the rug, laying directly on top of him—straddling him. "Just give up...Kyle. Admit---that I'm—stronger—than you." "Fuck—YOU!" Kyle began thrashing under Adam, using all of his energy to try and break free from underneath him. At this moment, something was happening to Adam. Here was his best friend—a man—thrashing, sweating, and swearing underneath him. Using all of his strength to break free, but nothing was working. He could feel everything—Kyle's strong arms trying to find a way out. His golden hair covering his unbelievably emerald eyes. His stiff nipples raking through his shirt. His flaccid dick constantly rubbing against Adam's own growing cock. What the hell was going on? Adam still had a strong grip on Kyle's wrists, so he just continued to stare into his eyes. "Okay, damn it. I give up." Adam did not move, but just kept staring. "Dude. I said I'm done. I'm getting a cramp." No movement. Adam felt that familiar feeling in his loins. Kyle was completely oblivious to what was going on. He just knew that Adam, who was heavier than he, was not getting off of him and he was getting a really bad cramp in his calf. And was having a hard time breathing. Adam was completely confused. He was lost in thought. There was only the sound of a referee on TV screaming that Chuck Liddell was still the champion due to... "Adam...What are you doing?" Adam really didn't know. He began to lean in. Inch by inch. Closer, and closer. He could really feel Kyle's body heat and smell his sweat. There was only inches between them when... "PIZZA HUT!" Adam literally jumped off of Kyle and ran to the door to pay the man. He made sure to give him a big tip seeing as how he stopped him from ruining his life and a 15 year friendship over what was going to be known as "The Great Beer-Induced Woody". Before returning to the living room with the pizza, Adam ran upstairs to the bathroom and splashed his face with ice cold water. He needed to snap out of whatever caused the truly mortifying experience in the living room. When Adam returned with the pizza, the coffee table had been replaced and there were two fresh beers waiting. "What the hell took so long? Did you go to Italy to get the Parmesan cheese?" "Fuck off." He plopped the pizza onto the table, cracked open his beer, looked at the seemingly unfazed Kyle, and began to think; What the hell just happened? Friends 'til the End Ch. 02 Hey everyone! Thanks for the great feedback. I hope you enjoy part two of my budding romance! As always, comments are greatly appreciated. H.V. CH. 2 Finals came and went. Okay, not really, they came, consumed our lives and ruined relationships, and then went. Either way, it was all worth it now that school was done with...forever. Okay, once again, not forever, but for a few short months until Kyle and I go off to UCLA. We made it! It turns out Zihlman didn't give any crap to Kyle for his paper, so in essence, I didn't really need to help him with it a few weeks ago, and the whole embarrassing incident could've been avoided. Although bitching about it now doesn't really do much, the damage has been done. The funny thing is that Kyle doesn't seem fazed at all. He stills jokes with me about being gay (that fucking bitch, Missy), but what teenage boys don't joke about each others' sexual orientation? Honest to God, at Thurgood, "Hey, fag" was the new "What's up?" Anyway, he never brought up the incident again and he certainly doesn't treat me any differently. It's like it never happened. Me on the other hand, I'm completely baffled. I don't know what this means. Am I gay? I don't think I am... I find women attractive, yet am unable to have sex with them. I chalk it up to just being so emotionally connected to the guy; I mean, he's been my best friend for 15 years and I had just ended my relationship with Missy (or so it seems), so I figured my mind was just on sensory overload and reacted like any healthy male teenager would've reacted if someone was rubbing against his package. Right? Right. I didn't want to sit around the house for the few months I had off and wallow in my sexual confusion, so I decided to get a job at Palms, the local recreational center, working as a "Tennis Instructor's Assistant". This title in itself was odd; I mean, why does a tennis instructor need an assistant? Regardless, the pay was great (for someone just out of high school) and I'd be surrounded by excellent sports facilities that I had full access to. "Is there a racquetball court there?" "Yes." "A swimming pool?" "Duh." "A sauna?" "Yes, damn it. They have everything there." "Okay, okay. Keep your dick in your pants...please." "Fuck you, asshole." Once again, Kyle's ribbing had gotten the best of me. I had just finished my training and was in a lousy mood. This walk home was gonna be a long one if it continued this way. "So, I mean, why the hell did you take a 'Tennis Instructor's Assistant' job? When was the last time you actually played tennis? Freshman year?" "Hey! I was pretty good at tennis. Obviously, if there had been a wrestling-related job I would've gone for it. I guess they needed someone quickly and since I have a lot of experience in sports, they figured I was their best bet. Besides, it's $13.50 an hour and I get to ogle the goodies on all the tennis chicks." "Shit, you know I'll be visiting you twenty-four seven." "I don't think Jenna would like that very much." He shot me a nervous glance. "I'm just fucking with you!" He nervously chuckled. "Don't tell Jenna I said that." I couldn't hold back the snort of laughter that came out. "I'm not kidding man! She's become so damn possessive of me ever since she found out I wasn't going to USC. She won't let me go anywhere without her and she makes me call every hour, on the hour. Hell, she damn near ripped my head off when I told her I was gonna meet you at Palms and find out how your interview went. She swore I was meeting my 'whore on the side'." "Pfft. And you said I was whipped when I was with Missy." I shuddered at the sound of her name. After about 10 minutes of brisk walking, we arrived at Buster's, the local pizza and beer joint. The fact that we were only 19 didn't stop us from enjoying alcoholic beverages. Since Kyle had been a part time employee there since he was 14, we pretty much had full access to the bar, and Kyle's rapport with Vince, the manager, gave us plenty of benefits. We sat down at our usual corner table with its gaudy plaid tablecloth and worn-out red leather booth seats. "Kenny, we'll take the usual!" Kyle screamed across the way. "So, what's up with you and her? Is it really over?" "Missy? Uh...YEAH. She's a damn psycho. And a nympho. I can't keep up." "I heard she's been asking about you. You know, what you're up to and if you're working." I hadn't spoken with her since that fateful day in the bathroom. I didn't even give her the obligatory hug at our graduation. It's not that I hated her, I mean, you couldn't really hate someone who looked like she does, but rather, I felt that our "relationship" had ran its course, and it was simply someone else's turn. "Who cares? The only thing I miss is my Letterman jacket I left in her room. That thing cost me a mint." "Here you go, guys. Two Buds and a cheese pizza." A young, handsome guy had come over and placed down the deliciously greasy pizza. "Thanks man" replied Kyle. "I haven't seen you around here? You new?" "Yeah, actually. My family just moved from Yuma and my dad's a good friend of Vince's so he hooked me up with a job as a menial pizza-serving waiter. The name's Corey." "Good to meet you," we both rang in unison. "My name's Kyle and this is Adam." I nodded in acknowledgement. "I myself am a menial waiter here," Kyle added. "Oh, sorry man. I didn't mean to offend—" "—Ha! You didn't offend me man, I know how it is. I've been working here since I was 14." At this point, their conversation was drowned out. I saw lips moving, but heard no words; I was too busy drinking in Corey. He too, was rather tall. I would say 6'2". His short spiky jet-black hair seemed groomed to perfection. His eyebrows were handsomely thick, and perfectly complemented his icy-blue eyes. His square jaw was hypnotizing, so defined and cut; like it was carved out of a slab of marble. And those lips, so full and thick perfectly paired with a mouthful of perfect teeth that he was constantly flashing, and his face was only the beginning. That prominent Adam's apple, tight pecs, what was sure to be washboard abs beneath his thin cotton t-shirt, damn-near perfects calves, and a fairly large bulge in his khaki board shorts—Wait. What?? What the hell is wrong with me?? What am I doing? Shit. I'm staring at the guy like he's some hot chick. Maybe I should've taken the number of that therapist my mom wanted me to see. "So what do you think, Ad?" The question brought me back from my eye-raping session with Corey. "Huh?" "Shit man, are you thinking about Eldridge's tits again?" This too, was a long-running joke that we had going. Mrs. Eldridge –being our 56 year old Government teacher—had tits that she could damn near trip over. "You're sick, asshole." "What I was saying, was if you'd be able to get Corey into that fancy tennis class of yours." "Uh, well, I don't know. I haven't even met the instructor yet and I think it would be kinda presumptuous to bring someone in and insist that they be enrolled. I mean, I'll try and bring it up after I get to know the guy." "Aw, come on, I'm sure if you just, you know, do him a "favor" he'll let Corey in aces." I felt the blood rushing to my face and go all the way to the tips of my ears. I was damn near about to slam his face into the greasy, untouched pizza on the table when I saw Corey smirk. I know that smirk. That's the "I Know What You're Talkin' About" smirk. I tried to think up a quip as fast as my brain would operate. "Oh yeah? I'm sure if you...You're the..." "Yeah, yeah. Too slow. Whatever." I slumped back in my chair; a sign of resignation and defeat. I had been thoroughly embarrassed and beaten. Corey hung around for another minute or two before Kenny yelled for him to get his "GQ-looking ass over here and give the paying customers their pizza." Corey said his "See ya later"s and I nodded in acknowledgement, yet again. He started to walk away when suddenly I felt the urge to yell, "I'm not actually gay, by the way!" Oh. God. Kyle starts howling with laughter and a few other customers snicker. Corey only flashes his perfect smile and salutes me. It's official: I'm a damn idiot. Not only was I embarrassed, but now I was pissed. People were going to start believing this shit. Once Corey was out of sight and I stopped receiving weird glances from the patrons in Busters, I reached across the table and punched Kyle square in the arm. "OW! What was that for?!?" As if he didn't know. "Dude, what the fuck?! That was humiliating!" "Chill man, we're all men here," he said as he finally took a swig of his beer and rubbed the sore spot on his arm. I felt like that kid in elementary school. You know the one I'm talking about. The teacher asks a question and the kid is so sure he has the right answer, so he just yells it out before some other greedy kid gets a chance to, but then realizes that he's wrong once all the other kids start laughing at him. It's a bad feeling. "Whatever. You're an ass." I got up to leave and threw a crumpled $10 bill on the table. Kyle was unfazed, as usual. "See you after work tomorrow?" "Fuck off." "Cool. I'll pick you up at 6." Kyle was smiling, and so was I as I pushed through the dingy double glass doors. He is an ass, but he knows I'll forgive him for pretty much anything. ----------------------------------------------- I was halfway home when it started to rain, so I had to run a few blocks to avoid catching a cold. I arrived at the front door, panting and sweating even though it was raining out. "Mom! Ben! Anyone home?" I assumed they were still at the parent-teacher conference meeting. Ben had been having problems socializing with other kids for as long as I can remember. I blame my dad for that. The asshole left my mom when she was 7 months pregnant with Ben, and when he was born, she never had the chance to properly socialize him due to the fact that she was working 2 jobs and going to night school. I keep telling Ben that it's just because he's so damn smart, like Stephen Hawking or something-- except for the whole wheelchair and robot-voice box thing—which is why he's always separating himself; his brilliance gives him the right to be highly selective with friends. I ran upstairs and kicked off my wet tan chinos and threw my not-so-white Ralph Lauren shirt in the hamper. This was my only "nice outfit". The outfit I wore to job interviews, weddings, funerals, school dances, and the like. I turned on the shower and ran back into my bedroom for my dirty little vice. I jogged over to my CD rack, grabbed my Motley Crue CD, opened the case, and pulled my "George Michael: Greatest Hits" CD from its deceptive cover and pop it into the boombox in the bathroom. If anyone found out about this, I could kiss my so-called heterosexual title goodbye. I put it on track 09, "Faith", and stupidly jumped into the shower before testing the water one more. "MOTHERFUCKER, that's cold!" After promptly turning up the hot water, I tried to sing along with George as I did my best to dance in my tiny shower. "Well I need someone to hold me, but I'll wait for something more--" I stopped and realized how gay I'm acting at this moment, so I immediately quit singing and just stood there. I need to stop this. I squeezed out a huge dollop of Herbal Essences and started massaging my scalp. I closed my eyes and a groan of contentment escaped my throat. I began to think about work, but I couldn't seem to focus. I kept thinking about the embarrassment at Buster's, the people snickering, and Corey's knowing smirk. His smirk...his perfect teeth, his washboard abs. I don't know what came over me but it felt like the blood was draining from one head to the other. My fingers wrapped around my filling cock and I slowly began to jerk off. Corey's body...Those blue, blue eyes...those muscular arms...My breathing became faster. My hand was becoming a blur on my now rock-hard cock. He's on his knees in front of me...he grabs my ass and puts my steel cock inches away from his lips...he licks the sweet nectar dripping from me...My knees began to shake and I felt that all familiar feeling in my balls. He swallows me whole and I can feel my dick hitting the back of his throat...I grab his head and begin fucking it relentlessly...he groans in pleasure and slaps my ass in encouragement..."Oh baby, I love your cock... I want you to fuck me all night long... I want your cock up my tight little ass and I want you to come inside of me"...I couldn't hold back anymore. Ropes of hot thick semen sprayed the shower wall and I had to grab the soap tray as my knees buckled so I didn't crack my head open if I actually collapsed. My legs wouldn't stop trembling and my chest was still heaving as I slowly sat down in the tub. The hot water from the showerhead was getting a little bit colder, but I didn't care. That was the most intense jerk-off session that I've ever had. And it was...thinking of a man. Holy shit. I am gay. I can't be. I CAN'T be. The hot water had run out, but I couldn't seem to get myself to get out of the tub. After what seemed to be hours, I finally got out, turned off the boombox, wrapped a towel around my waist, and gave myself a long hard look in the mirror and said it. "I'm gay." Nothing. "Hi, I'm a homosexual!" I'm an idiot. "I think about naked men and jerk off in my shower!" I actually let out a giggle at this. "Jesus, Adam. What's wrong with you?" I say to myself. Walking out of the bathroom, I feel like I've had some sort of epiphany; some sort of progress towards my sexual orientation declaration. But there's only one way to be sure of it: the Internet! Oh come on, with all the reliable research to be done (gay porn websites, hours of cyber-sex, online communities that hook you up with literally thousands of willing participants that want nothing more than to help you get your rocks off, etc.), the internet would definitely help me solidify my ambiguous existence. The computer made some sort of odd, whirring noise as it booted up. "Piece of shit. Thanks again, dad, for the only thing you gave me; a 1991 IBM. Bastard." After about 15 minutes of odd noises, the computer finally logged me onto the world wide web. "Where to start? Where to start?" Gay porn? Too intense. Might scare me off. Local hook-ups? Way too intense. I may be ready to think about naked men, but I don't know if I can actually see them. I figure I should start off with what every other 12-48 year old pervert was doing: "Cyber-sex it is." I couldn't get the clap from a little dirty talk with some willing participants, and I wasn't afraid of being discovered. I clicked on the little "Chat" icon and a whole new window popped up. What the hell is all this? "Gay Bears Chat"? "Gay Twinks Chat"? "S&M Gay Chat?" Who knew that being gay had so many different options? After poring the long list of possible chat rooms, I stumbled upon a surprising Chat Room Title and actually laughed when I read it: "Am I gay? Chat" You've gotta be shitting me. It's a sign, right? Here goes nothing. The double click of the mouse opens up a new window where there are already several different conversations going on. UnReAlBoDy17 says he's having wet dreams about men in bicycle shorts. Sk8rBoi87 says he gets "weird feelings down there" when he looks at this guy in his Chemistry class. Who are these people? Since I don't feel the need to put out any more sexual ambiguity, I type what I see as "basic information". AJD195: 19/m/Los Angeles Within a matter of seconds, I'm barraged by several instant messages, all with messages akin to "How big is your cock?" or "Are you a top or bottom?" and "Do you use any toys?" I dig through the IMs and find a seemingly innocuous one from someone called BBallerChris. BBallerChris: Hey, how's it going? AJD195: Good, thx. And u? BBallerChris: Good. Thx. So u r having a hard time figuring out if ur gay? AJD195: Kinda. I had a weird experience with my close friend a few months ago and I keep thinking about this one guy's body. It's really weirding me out. BBallerChris: O. I c. Well, I think I can help you. AJD195: O yeah? How? BBallerChris: Well, if you don't want 2 burn in the fiery pitz of hell, you'll stop thinking about sucking cok you dirty lil' fagot. What the hell? A religious fanatic who uses AIM talk and misspells such key words as 'cock' and 'faggot'? Just my luck. I guess trying the chat rooms was a mistake. I quickly close the IM and the chat box. To hell with it. I glance over at my bed and it's looking unbelievably comfy to me. I throw off my towel, climb under the sheets, and manage one last glimpse at the clock before I drift to sleep. It's only 6:38pm. ----------------------------------------------- "ADAM!" What the hell? "ADAM JOSEPH DALY!" I look over at the clock; 8:42pm. Only two hours have passed. "YOU HAVE COMPANY!" Anyone short of John Lennon rising from the dead wouldn't be able to wake me from my sleepy stupor. "Knock, knock!" NO. FUCKING. WAY. That shrill voice could be only one person; the last person I ever wanted to see again. I jump out of bed and quickly look around the room. Shit. Nowhere to hide. AND, I'm as naked as the day I was born. I decide in bed, under the sheets was the safest place for me to be (I don't know how I came to this conclusion, but it seemed safe at the time). Maybe I could feign sleep, or illness? Oh God, no, then she would try to take care of me. I would just have to face her...Like a man. The door creaked open and there she was in the skimpiest outfit I'd ever seen. "Baby, you left your jacket at my place." Any man, gay or straight, would have no choice but to look twice or three times at Missy if she had walked by. Her wavy auburn hair was done up in pigtails. The "Golddigger" halter top she was wearing seemed to be smothering her D-cup breasts, and ended just above her shiny belly ring which really brought attention to her perfect abs. Her tight denim ultra-mini skirt topped off her extra-long legs and black stilettos. She had slutted it up for me, I assume. She had strategically dressed to make any man stand and salute, and God help me, I was. Why was this happening? Hadn't I just come to the conclusion that I was gay? That I prefer rock hard chests to big bouncy breasts? But I mean really, I'm a 19 year old dude. I get a half-chub watching a bathing suit segment on QVC. "I tried to call you earlier, but your line's been busy since 6." Shit. I forgot to log off the internet. Ah; the joys of having a Dial-Up ISP. "Thanks for bringing it back," I managed to croak out. She seductively placed my letterman jacket on the back of my computer chair. Her back was facing me for what seemed like forever; plotting her next move, I supposed, when she suddenly whipped around and gave me her best "You know You Want to Fuck Me" look. "Baby, you're not still upset about what happened, are you?" She began to approach me, fluttering her extra-long eyelashes. "Uh...Missy...I think that...Well...what I said earlier...I still mean it. I'm just not ready to have sex with you." Somehow, at this point, she had teleported across the room and was now sitting on my bed, massaging my thigh through my navy-blue sheets. "Oh baby. You don't have to do anything you want to do. We don't have to have sex, but I've been thinking about you for so long, and I came all the way out here to return your jacket. Doesn't that mean something to you, baby?" My heart was pounding, knowing that I wouldn't be able to do anything to stop this. I was completely naked and felt like my dick could punch a hole through a brick wall. I had just gone through an intense jerk-off session thinking of Corey and the last time I'd done anything physical with another person was the "wrestling incident" with Kyle a few months back. Before that, I couldn't even remember when the last time I got a good blowjob was. Friends 'til the End Ch. 02 By the time Missy was done with all her cooing and massaging, I was basically a pile of goo. She somehow had slipped out of her top and was now wearing only a lacy barely-there bra and panties and her heels. She threw back the sheets and eyed my fully erect dick. "Oh God, baby. You're so fucking hard. I'm gonna do us both a little favor and take care of that." At this point, I couldn't care less about who she was. All I knew is that I was gonna finally get some release. Missy straddled my legs, and slowly began crawling up to her favorite lollypop. At this point, I was literally dripping so much that I knew I was actually gonna have to wash my sheets instead of having my mom do it. I mean, what would she think? The next thing I know, my cock is all the way down Missy's throat and she's tickling my pubes with her nose. I nearly shoot from the pleasure. I grab her hair and relentlessly begin to fuck her mouth. "Oh baby...Oh Yeah...Fuck yeah...Fuck my mouth...I'm a dirty little whore...Oh God, your cock tastes so good...Fuck me...FUCK ME!" All I'm wishing is that she'd shut the fuck up. I always hated when she talked dirty, seeing as she sounded like a typical 12 year-old Backstreet Boys fan which made me a bit uncomfortable. Before I know it, I'm holding her head firmly in place and I'm shooting my load down her throat and surprisingly, she doesn't pull away. My body is still reeling from the oral assault and I feel my cock deflating. I slowly open my eyes and see that once again, somehow she is fully dressed and is straightening her hair. "So, I guess we're back together, huh babe?" I say nothing. "I'll call you later. Kisses." I groggily glance at the clock. 9:15. That was fast. My eyes feel heavy and my body feels warm. And just like that, I was "seeing" Missy again.