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Prom Night Ch. 02

By: ravishingrick69



Absently, Nate traced the rim of his plastic punch cup, his fingers moving in tedious, endless circles. He glanced out onto the floor with not a little annoyance at the flashing strobe light and hip-hop beat that had sent the gymnasium into a gyrating frenzy. His senior prom was not living up to his expectations. 

A lot of the problem was timing. The school administration had simply failed to consult with the student body before setting the date for the big dance. As it was, the prom happened to fall on a week when, in the complex rituals of teenage dating, all of the girls where happy and "with" their respective boyfriends. The last wave of heated arguments and break-ups had passed a few weeks ago, tempers had calmed, and the boy-girl relationships had cycled back around to lovey-dovey couplings that meant there would be a healthy amount of dark-corner necking and back-seat fuck-fests throughout the night. Never mind that there would be break-ups galore on Monday morning. The problem was that couples were together now. It was simply sloppy planning on the school's part. A stag like Nate cannot be expected to have a good time at the prom when all of the female flesh is happily involved with their respective male counterparts. On top of that, the DJ preferred slow ballads to fast dance beats. With faster songs, a guy could at least gyrate into a few females without drawing much attention. With slower songs, boyfriends where either too possessive to allow another guy to dance with his girl at all, or at least to watchful to let hands wonder very much. The DJ had been playing slow songs all night long. This was just not Nate's day.

Nate had managed to approach Kara earlier in the night and dance a short round with her. He had hoped that, if he could not conquer some new flesh, a romp with last year's prom fuck buddy could be arranged. As Nate drank in the smell of Kara's perfume, he remembered their night one year ago--how he had taken advantage of an argument with her boyfriend to nail her in the back seat of his car. Images of her slender, tan body bouncing up and down on his cock gave him an instant erection as he pressed closer to her, only to have her gently but definitely push him away.

"Nate, don't do that," she said into his ear. "David is probably watching."

"Oh, baby, can't you forget David for just a little while? We could sneak into the bathroom for a quickie," Nate smiled and added, "For old time's sake?"

"I'm sorry, Nate, but I can't." 

"Don't you remember last year when you said you wanted me to be your 'other man' even if you and David got back together?" Nate reminded her of the agreement made after their romp in the back seat. Over the course of the year, he and Kara had fucked several times, but lately she seemed less and less interested in honoring their special relationship. "It's been so long since we've played, baby. What's happened to us?"

"Look, Nate, David and I are on really good terms right now," Kara was starting to get flustered. "We've both done stupid things, but we're working through it. And what's all this 'us' business? It's not like we ever had a real relationship, Nate. We were fuck buddies, that's all. We fooled around because we were bored. And it was great, don't get me wrong. You're a fan-fucking-tastic lover, okay? But don't start making it anything more than it was, and all it was young lust. I'm over it now. You should get over it too." With that, Kara walked briskly away, leaving Nate standing in an embarrassed silence at the center of the floor.

Kara's rejection still fresh in his mind, Nate sat on the sidelines watching everyone else enjoy themselves, contemplating what the night's jack-off fantasy would be, when a stroke of good luck walked through the door. Three strokes, actually. Melanie Hammonds, Crystal Lewis, and Amanda Wallace. Nate and his friends referred to them as the Hoe Brigade. They were three notoriously easy, trashy, slutty, pot-head burn outs that had made the rounds to almost every guy in school (and some of the girls, if rumors could be believed). Nate was one of the few that had not tasted this corrupted fruit.

"Better late than never," he said to himself, downing the remainder of his punch and crossing the floor.

These three were legends at Wayne high school. A lot of girls 

dressed skimpy, a lot were cock teasers, and most were a few miles south of virginity, but in the end, most girls had there fun here and there and generally behaved themselves. Not these three. They were the real deal: bonafied, card-carrying sluts from the word go. Nate and his friends called them "The Ho Patrol" when they passed (ALWAYS together) in the hallways, invariably on their way to the bathroom to light up before their next class. It was well known that, every weekend, some guy (or several) was getting lucky with one (or all) of the Patrol. And they had been at it for a very long time. Nate knew for a fact--knew because Ryan Stewart had informed him of all the tasty details--that Melanie had once rode the bus home with Ryan's brother Wally for the express purpose of giving him a handjob while his parents were still at work. They just sat on the living room couch with her cranking away on his pecker while Batman Adventures was playing on the tube. Mel hadn't graduated to blowjobs at the time, because this had all happened in the eighth grade, but it didn't take her long. 

Nate figured that, if he wanted to get laid tonight, the Patrol was his best bet. He couldn't help but notice the boredom on their faces as he walked up, and hoped that meant his job was going to be all the easier. 

"Good evening, ladies," he said. They all replied with broad smiles, though the boredom in their voices was all the more evident. Melanie, with whom Nate had been carrying on a continuous flirtation for years, put her arm around his waist and rested her head on his shoulder. "Having a good time?" Nate ventured. 

"Shit no," sighed Crystal. "I hate these fucking dances. All the hot guys are hooked up and they aren't playing any fast songs." Nate smiled. 

"Yeah, I know what you mean," he said. "I was thinking of splitting." 

"Us too," said Melanie. "You want to come with us up to Cedar Point? We've got some booze in the car. We were just going to have our own party." She giggled. 

"Sounds good to me," Nate said, then added. "Why don't we get a hotel room, though. We'd be more comfortable, don't you think?" 

"There aren't going to be any fucking rooms empty now," said Mandy. "This is prom night." 

"I bet we could get one at Cooper's Motel," suggested Nate. Cooper's was the local "No-Tell-Motel" and almost always had a room available, seeing as how they rented by the hour. 

Melanie looked up into Nate's eyes, grinning. "Why, Nate! It sounds like you've got this all planned out" 

"Yeah," giggled Crystal. "Could we trust you in a hotel room with all three of us?" 

"You could trust me to get fresh," he said, smiling back. "Would that be a big problem?" 

"Fuck no," said Mandy. "Once we get a little trashed, we'd probably jump you anyway." 

"That's what I was counting on," he said. They all laughed on their way out the door. 

Melanie's tongue was already deep inside Nate's mouth when the other two girls started on their second bottle of Corona. The jacket of his tuxedo had long since found its way to the floor, and Melanie's hands were creeping inside the shirt, assuring Nate that the rest of his clothes probably wouldn't last much longer. Melanie and Crystal still had their dresses on, but Mandy had stripped down to her bra and panties ("God Damn thing's too tight" she had said while peeling her dress over her head) soon after their arrival at the motel room. The four of them had managed to finish off one carton of beer before the make-out session began. 

"Save some of that for me," Crystal giggled, watching Nate and Mel go at it. Mel had hiked her dress up and was now straddling Nate, their mouths writhing together furiously. Mandy tipped her bottle up, sipping through the side of her mouth, as her fingers unconsciously wandered into her panties. They were all a little south of tipsy, and all the girls tended to get just a little bit hornier when they were drunk. Nate came up for some air and, while Melanie moved her lips down to his neck and began unbuttoning his shirt, he noticed Mandy playing with herself. 

"Why don't you help Mandy out while you're waiting your turn," he said to Crystal. The two girls' eyes met with a visual spark of lust. Mandy smiled broadly, spread her legs wide and curled her finger at Crystal, beckoning her closer. Crystal crawled seductively on all fours toward her friend, pushed Mandy's panties aside, and immediately dove her tongue between the furry lips. Mandy let out a loud moan that made Crystal giggle and dive into her work with great abandon. The orgy had begun. 

Melanie reached behind and unzipped her dress, then snaked out of it. She kissed Nate deeply one last time and said, "I've wanted this for a long time, Nate." 

"What the fuck took you so long?" he said, his voice thick with lust. For an answer, Melanie slid down his body and removed his pants. His undies bulged, and Melanie quickly freed his hard cock, which had just the glistening beginnings of pre-cum at its tip. 

"Mmmm, God," she moaned and buried the dick in her mouth. Nate couldn't even muster a moan--he just stopped breathing for a few seconds, tilted his head back, and reveled in the long-sought sensation of Melanie's lips wrapped around his pecker. 

Meanwhile, across the room, Mandy had nearly succeeded in toppling Crystal's tightly styled hair as she pushed her friends face hard into her pussy. "Eat that pussy, you little slut," she said savagely. "Yeah, you're a little cunt licker, aren't you?" Crystal mumbled her affirmation and gripped Mandy's hips. With both girls straining to push Crystal's tongue as deep as possible into her, Mandy began grinding her pussy into the girl, fucking her friend's face wildly. "Mmm, yeah. You like that?" Mandy taunted. "You like me to fuck your face, you like being my whore. You like it, you. . .oh fuck!" Mandy shut her eyes tightly and moved her hips faster as her first orgasm of the night exploded. "Oh god, baby, I'm gonna cum all over your face, Crystal oh fuck goddamn fuck goddamn fuck fuck fuck yes yes fucking goddamn!" When it was over, Mandy pulled Crystal up to her face and kissed her full on the mouth. 

By this time, Melanie had had her fill of Nate's cock. . .at least as far as her mouth was concerned. She slipped out of her panties and climbed up Nate's body, moving to his face and again kissing him. "Can I fuck you now, Nate? I wanna fuck you so bad." 

"Yes, baby," he said. "Fuck me!" With that, she raised her hips, positioned her moist cunt over his cock, and slowly slid down onto it, their lips locked together the entire time. Melanie moved slowly at first, allowing the both of them to savor the moment, a moment that they had both dreamt of for so long. Years of flirting, of amorous glances and secret desires had been building to this moment. They had both known, each in their hearts, how the other felt, but fear, embarrassment, or any number of other silly excuses had always kept them from sharing these feelings. Now, with their inhibitions dulled and a captive audience of onlookers, their passion could be hidden no longer. 

"I love you, Nate," Melanie said as she bobbed up and down on him. "I've wanted this for so long, baby." 

"I love you too, Mel, and I've been waiting just as long," Nate said. He reached behind her back and undid her bra. Nate wrapped his arms around Melanie. They held each other tightly, their naked flesh pressing warmly against each other, and began fucking wildly. Melanie bounced up and down, Nate's cock nearly popping out of her each time, before slamming herself down again hard onto it with a scream of pleasure. 

"You're pussy feels so good, Mel," Nate moaned. "Just like I knew it would. You're so fucking sexy." 

"I want to be your whore, Nate, your own personal little whore," Melanie gasped close to his ear. He grabbed her ass, pulling her down and thrusting up, their bodies slapping together loudly. Crystal and Mandy stared at the two of them, awed by the ferocity of their love making. "I want you to cum in me, Nate," Melanie said. "I want you to fill me up with it." 

"I will, baby," Nate promised. "God, you're going to make me cum now." 

"Do it, baby. Please, cum for me. Make me your cum slut. Shoot your wad in my pussy, Nate. Oh god yes!" As Melanie began bucking with her own orgasm, Nate felt his balls tighten, and screamed so loud his voice cracked. He dug his fingers into Melanie's bouncing ass as he emptied the biggest shot of cum he had ever produced into her warm, wet pussy. When he had finally finished spraying his jizz into her, they both collapsed, panting, onto the bed. 

"God damn!" said Mandy. "I've never seen shit like that, not even in the pornos." 

"Yeah," added Crystal. "That was really sexy you guys!" She had finally gotten rid of her own clothing and was curled up with Mandy, absently playing with her nipple. 

When Melanie climbed off Nate to lay beside him, a large glob of jizz dripped onto his leg. The other girls noticed that his cock was also gummy with his own spunk. 

"Fuck dude!" Crystal laughed. "You filled her so full of cum her poor pussy can't hold it all!" 

"Do you want to clean me up?" asked Melanie, a sly smile playing on her lips. 

"Fuck yeah!" Crystal answered, already on her knees and half-way to the bed. She stopped at the foot and looked at Nate. "You don't mind, do you?" 

"Not if she doesn't mind Mandy cleaning me off" Nate said. Melanie nodded, letting him know it was okay. Crystal approached the bed as Nate and Mel scooted to the very edge so that the girls could have easy access to their crotches. Just as before, Crystal dove her tongue into Melanie without hesitation. Melanie moaned at this and wrapped her legs around Crystal's head. Meanwhile, Mandy lowered her mouth onto Nate's balls, where his cum had begun to slowly run down. He gasped and jumped as her tongue first licked the jizz up and then drew an entire nut into her mouth, where she began sucking. Mandy looked into Nate's eyes and he could feel her lips smiling as she worked her magic on his cock, cleaning it thoroughly of his residual cum. 

Crystal lifted her head from Melanie's pussy and looked up at Nate. "You taste so fucking good, Nate!" she said. Nate saw that she held a gob of cum in her mouth, and more was sticking to her face, even dripping off her chin. The sight of it drove him crazy 

"Oh my god," he said. "I'm sorry, Mandy, but Crystal's being neglected. She needs a good fucking!" He pushed Mandy out of the way, pulled Crystal up roughly by the hair and threw her onto the bed. He placed her feet over his shoulders and plunged his cock into her--no slow beginning, no foreplay as there had been with Melanie--just raw, ravenous fucking! He pounded into Crystal hard, making her scream out until she found Mandy's familiar pussy thrust into her mouth. Nate looked up to see that Mandy had taken Melanie's place beneath Crystal's able mouth, and Melanie had settled her self on Mandy's face, her body facing Nate. In that way--Nate fucking Crystal, Crystal eating Mandy, Mandy sucking cum from Melanie's pussy, and Melanie gazing into Nate's eyes--they became a unified sexual beast, writhing, screaming, moaning as one. 

"I want you to fuck her hard for me, baby," Melanie said. As the only girl that could talk, she became the spokesperson for the beast. "Make her cum, and I want you to cum, too. I want you to cum inside her. I want you to squeeze all that cum out of your balls, I want whatever you didn't give me to go inside Crystal." 

"And you," she said shoving Crystal's face into Mandy's pussy. "I want you to grip my baby's cock tight with that slutty pussy of yours. I want you to fuck him right back and make him cum, and I want you to take every drop of it! And you have to make Mandy cum again, too. Eat her pussy you fucking whore!" 

Melanie then turned her attention to Mandy, grinding her cunt down onto the girl's face. "Mandy, I want you to suck all of Nate's cum out of me. He shot so much up in my pussy when he fucked me, more than I've ever felt, and you have to swallow all of it." 

Melanie's voice was like a trance to them; they all obeyed explicitly. Nate pounded into Crystal like a jack-hammer. Crystal threw her hips back to meet Nate's every thrust, then rocked forward to attack Mandy's sensitive clit. Melanie could feel Mandy's tongue probing deep into her, licking Nate's cum off the walls of her pussy and sucking it (along with Melanie's clit) into her mouth. 

Nate came first with a short, intense orgasm, spraying Crystal's pussy with the very last drops of his cum. The orgasm continued like a chain reaction through the rest of the group, with Crystal gripping Nate with her legs and pulling her deeper inside as her body shook. She screamed into Mandy's pussy and bit down on her friend's clit. Mandy shook so violently from her second orgasm of the night that her mouth brought Melanie to her own climax. Exhausted, and having screamed themselves horse, the quartet of sweaty bodies fell into a pile of flesh on the bed. Melanie and Nate found each other's arms, embracing as the other girls nuzzled close to their bodies. 

"Well, this prom night turned out to be pretty cool after all," panted Crystal. 

"Yes," Melanie said, kissing Nate. "It certainly did." 

"You're not going to take our Melanie away from us are you Nate?" asked Mandy. "You know, now that you're all lovey-dovey and shit?" 

"No, I promise I won't" said Nate. "In fact, I think we should all spend a lot of time together from now on." 

"Aim-the fuck-in to that!" said Mandy. The four of them laughed, cuddled closer to one another, and slept away the rest of the night.

Prom Night Ch. 02



For Evan, wherever you are... 

It was twenty minutes after James's confession of age that I lay in his arms, my head on his chest. It was a new experience, and all of the new feelings were washing over me. I could not believe that not too long before I had had sexual intercourse with a man. I had always considered myself straight, never had once looked at another man or considered what it would feel like, but now I was in uncharted territory. What did this mean? Was I gay? No, I couldn't be. 

But you enjoyed it! And so I did, but why? What untapped desires existed below the horizon of my conscious that produced enjoyment in feeling the entanglement of his black chest hair forest against my face? I couldn't be certain. Sure, I had showered with other guys after basketball practice. I never watched them. While I was not the type to play slap-ass with a towel, I had laughed when others did. Did that mean I was comfortable being around them in that state of undress? Stop trying to rationalize it; this is much different from the locker room. 

No, this was much different. My teammates- at least, when I was with them in the shower- did not drink each other's cum. This was not the safety zone of the school locker room showers, which was built to handle the depersonalization of hygiene. This was a bed, something I could imagine only being personal. And the acts we had just shared were something entirely different. 

I felt his lips brush my forehead as these thoughts swirled inside my mind. "What are you thinking about?" His whisper was like music that soothed my nerves. I shifted my arm around him to pull him closer to me, feeling his warmth. 

"I've never done this before," I confessed for the second time that night. Normally, a question such as that would be met with a noncommittal answer from me, but something in the protective embrace with the firm body called on the truth from me. The words seemed to easily leave my lips. Except, they sounded so unfamiliar and far away when I spoke. 

I felt him tense under them. "Neither have I... Do you, um... Want to talk about it?" 

I nodded. 

"I'm not really sure what to say... But I'm not going to lie to you, Dom." He paused for a moment. "I enjoyed that...whatever we can call it. Hell, I'm not sure what to call it myself..." The tone was strained, changing the entire atmosphere of the moment we had just shared. "But what do you think?" 

"I enjoyed it, James... It felt really...good. Really good," I felt his deep blue eyes on me, and to seal it, I found myself giving his warm nipple a kiss underneath the mat of hair. "I want more...but I don't know what it means." 

"I... Yes," he replied. "I'll admit, Dom, that I don't know what it means either. I guess what it comes down to is that we tried something new... It's a first, and I can't even begin to describe how I feel about it... I don't know, Dom. I've never even given another guy a once over..." 

"Nor have I," while it was a short phrase, it seemed to cut the air like a knife. 

He continued, "I'm not going to beat around the bush, though... What we did- while I can't say it was wrong in the sense of two men being together- it was... It was..." Our eyes locked, and I couldn't help but melt under his kiss. But as soon as briefly as the warmth spread between us, the chill of our roles set back in. "This was wrong of me... I was unprofessional, Dom. I shouldn't have. For that, I accept full responsibility for this, no matter what you decide that may be..." 

I froze. "What I decide it may be?" 

"If I decide, it's only me taking advantage of you...even more than I already have." 

"You taking advantage of me?" I had to admit that the words stung, the armor which had been off for such a short time now being donned again. "Let me ask you... In all of your years of teaching, how many times has a student offered you coffee after midnight?" 

The nervous look on his face offered no reply. 

"None," I answered. "I'm as much at fault, James... I should have... You didn't have to..." I broke off, not knowing what to say. 

James took my head in his hands and kissed me again, nuzzling the black scruff against me. Then his lips traveled north, until they found my eyes. I closed them, feeling his closeness as his lips kissed each lid. "You're right. I guess we took advantage of each other." 

I nodded. 

"Look at me, Dom...please." 

I opened my green eyes to meet his gaze. 

"You're eighteen, and in a matter of weeks, I won't be your instructor anymore... So, I guess we're just two guys then...that shared something we enjoyed...really enjoyed, if I'm honest. By law, we shouldn't have, for the purpose of being professional. But..." James paused, his voice uneven. "But, regardless of professionalism, now that I have, all I can say is that we're two men who shared in something that we enjoyed." James seemed to trail off. 

"So you would never...?" 

"I'm not sure... Things are a bit complicated in that aspect..." His expression was far away. 

I nodded, knowing what he meant. 

"I don't mean to upset you, but even with that in mind...what would your family say?" His eyes searched my face for an answer, analyzing me again. 

"They really don't know about that side of my life." I tried to keep the irritation from slipping into my voice, but I could not prevent the undertone was sounding. 

The voice was careful. "Still, parents know..." 

"I don't advertise, if that's what you mean." 

The quietness was a wall of thick ice. Finally, his bearish hand gently went under my chin and lifted it to meet his eyes again. "You're right... I'm sorry. This is just all so new to me; I guess I don't know you as well as I thought I did." 

I was getting lost in his gaze again, and without another word, I leaned up, kissing James on the mouth. "I'm sorry too; maybe I should get to know you a bit better, as well." 

I could feel him melting, just as I was melting, under the power of the kiss. "I'm an open book to anything you could ever wish to know." James kissed me back, his arms holding me closer to him. Our mouths dueled, and my hand went to his hair, running my fingers through it. 

We broke away; our smiles seemed to make the room brighter as we did. "Then are you an only child?" I teased, not knowing what other topic to jump to from the moment. 

James laughed at my poor lead into a new conversation. "Oh, sometimes I wish," he joked, "I am the youngest of four children. I have two sisters and one brother." 

"Ah, I see," I laughed, "Close French American family?" 

He grinned down at me, briefly squeezing me closer to him. "You're right that Monaco is French, but actually the majority of my background is Italian." 

This notion surprised me, and I couldn't help but imagine his siblings. James had never spoken of any family in class before, and I wondered what they were like. If they were anything like him, I was intrigued. I teased him some more, "So you keep your friends close but your enemies closer, eh?" 

He brought his lips to mine, gently stroking the goose bumped skin of my chest, "All the time." A playful smirk spread across his lips. 

I kissed the playful evil from his lips. "I see. But when we part in the morning, I'm not going to get whacked, am I?" 

"Not this time," James laughing and stuck the tip of his tongue between his lips to show he was joking, "I would walk home instead of starting the car, though, if I were you." 

I couldn't help but laugh, and I poked him in the side. James responded by rolling over under he was cradling me under him. His eyes looked down at me, and at once, I was reminded from the warmth of his flesh against mine all over that we were both naked together in the bed. I couldn't help but feel as though we were starting something, even if it was just further experimentation for both of us. It was an equal field without the constraints of societal roles or secrets. My bear had me, and I had my bear. 

He leant down and kissed me full on the lips, with more passion than before. My arms circled round the back of his neck, pulling him into me. My thumbs stroked the bottom of his hair- where it met the back of the neck- as they did. 

"What are they like?" I asked finally, still cradled underneath him. 

"The best," James smiled. "My brother is the oldest; his name is Al. He's a store manager for a Weis Market. Then there's Sabina and Cheryl. Sabina decided to marry a guy from the West Coast and move out there with him; we get emails from time to time. Apparently, she's a blackjack dealer, or she was when I last heard from her." 

I nodded, surprised with each new fact of his personal life. "And Cheryl?" 

"We tease her that she's the overachiever of the family, but she works as a forensic pathologist at The Medical Examiner's Office down in Georgia." James kissed my forehead. The touch sent tingles along my backside. My fingers traced the lines of his skin on the back of the neck. 

I had to laugh at the mashup. "That's quite a unique profession; I've actually found that kind of science a bit fascinating." 

His laugh was soothing music to my ears. "You're the only person I've told about her that has had that kind of response." His grin was angelic; I could have stayed under him no matter what. "What is it that you find fascinating about dead people?" 

"There are so many pieces of information that can be obtained from them; it's like they're telling you their story when they can't actually vocalize anything anymore. You mean to tell me that you don't find it interesting?" 

He paused, considering this. "I guess I never thought of it that way. But I couldn't do what they do- not to anyone." After a moment, James teased, "This is getting a bit dark. What about your family?" 

I playfully rolled my eyes and laughed at his attempt to get the subject back on course. For a man who went to college to master the art of manipulating conversations back on track, his personal methods still appeared nervous. "Well, I have an older brother," I finally answered. "He'll be graduating college next year." 

"Ah, and what's his major?" 

"Criminal justice. It drives my parents up the wall because they were hoping he'd pursue something in business." We both laughed. "So, my Dad still sends him some brochures for business schools sometimes; I guess he thinks it'll plant a seed in his mind." 

"Yeah, I had a similar experience with my mother when I told her what I was going to college for." James rolled us back on our sides, his arm still around me. Carefully, his other reached for the covers and pulled them higher up on us as the air conditioner clicked on in the background, chilling the room. He removed the tie and tossed it off to the side before continuing, "We just sat down at the kitchen table and talked over a couple cups of tea one weekend. She wanted me to do something great with photography; she couldn't really understand how I would be happy with teaching." 

"But you love photography?" 

"I do. I guess part of me wanted to be a part of something special, too, in a way that's different from how photography is special. I wanted to give back, somehow. And besides, I always liked History; there are so many answers to the future that can be extracted from the past." What little fragments there were of the walls between us were grating into dust and blowing away in the wind. I felt as though I were touching a deeper part of him than what even a friend would. 

"Did you tell her that?" I found myself seeing new emotions in the lines of his face. 

James nodded. "I told her that I felt it was something that I could do to help others. She still didn't understand it, but I think she's accepted it. I guess I'd say that I'm not sure I understand exactly why it's so difficult for her to understand it...but I love her just the same." 

Silence passed over us as he stared off at the ceiling. We were in an uncharted sea, and the last thing I wanted was for him to steer us out of it. So I continued, "Maybe she just doesn't want you to have any regrets... Maybe she just wants you to be happy...not sell yourself out for some plastic image of what others want. I think a lot of people sell themselves out..." 

"How?" 

"Well, they shape themselves into what they need to be to fit a role. They tell you how to dress, how to act, and they ask you to be happy with it. Didn't you feel like that going into teaching?" I knew I shouldn't have said the words as soon as they left my lips, but I couldn't help it. I had been through enough classrooms to see unhappy teachers. 

"Not really, I enjoy it. I wear the tie every week day, but it's not all I am." James didn't look at me. 

"Ah, maybe I just don't get it. But I'm sure she wants you to be you." 

His gaze found me again. "I'm sure she does." 

It was my turn to console him; I leaned up and kissed my bear on the lips, feeling the warmth of his presence wash over me. My hand felt the mat of fur on his chest as I did, experiencing the rise and fall of his chest for the first time- his heartbeat- under it as it did. It was a strong beat, regular and steady, as if it would protect me from the unknown crevices in the night. 

I had never experienced such a feeling of safety before; I had always felt that I didn't need anyone. That I could take care of myself. But now it traced every vein of my body until it enveloped me entirely. I knew I needed him right then. 

"Thank you," James breathed as our lips parted. I didn't ask what for; something within me seemed to know already, as if it were a secret he carried within himself for a while. Then he continued, softly, "Anyway, my grandmother had a field day with her once our little talk kind of exploded into an argument. Gram lived across the street at the time, and I wound up over there." 

I smiled. 

This part of the memory seemed to give him a snicker of laughter, "It's funny; picture this little Italian woman- she couldn't be taller than five, five- waving her hands saying, 'Ya' dumb baciagaloop; are you gonna' be the one takin' classes? Unless you are, I don't want you to say another word to Jimmy about it.'" 

I burst out laughing. "She didn't say that!" 

"Ha!" James shook his head, "You haven't met my grandmother. She says what she wants." His arms pulled me tighter to him. "Believe me, I got in trouble quite enough as a kid to hear all the Italian insults she could throw at me when I got disciplined." 

My eyebrows arched in surprise, "Oh, so you were a trouble-maker, were you?" I enjoyed teasing him; his expressions were priceless when he'd realize I was joking. I was growing fond of the way he would try to look innocent. 

"Me? Nah..." His smile was addictive. 

"Liar." 

"Okay, you got me, officer." James held up his hands with laughter, "Still am, to this day." 

I kissed him with more passion than the last I had given him, tracing the line of his lower lip with my tongue. "You'll just have to prove that to me," I whispered in his ear once we parted. 

A devilish grin swept his face, his deep blue eyes seeming to smile as well as he tackled me again. My legs were on either side of his, and his cock- which had been soft but was now beginning to stiffen from my suggestion- stroked the inside of my thigh as his hips moved into me. We kissed again, this time allowing it to deepen until I was pulling him into me, our bodies mashing up with the heat of our recent tryst. I felt my legs weaken, needing him. My dick, however, began sprouting back to life. 

Our bodies separated a little. His hands roamed my chest until they found my nipples, gently tweaking them. I couldn't stand the electrical sensations which poured from them, sweeping over my body until their charges reached every inch of me. I whimpered, my fingers beginning to trace the outlines of his back muscular tissue. Then his mouth came down, kissing over to my earlobe, where his tongue began to flick the flab of skin. 

"Jamesss," I panted, getting lost in the feeling of him. I felt his dick twitch with hardening as it did, until I couldn't help but buck my hips into him. The bed covers rose and fell with us as we began rocking into each other, our erections probing. I could feel his prodding at my balls, gently nuzzling them until I couldn't form words anymore. I quivered, trying to keep control of myself. 

The warm breath of James Monaco could be felt all over the left side of my neck as he tongued my earlobe, sending tingles all over my shoulders. When he inhaled, it sucked the heat away, until what was left was a cool tingle of sensitivity at his touch, which would melt under the heat of his exhalation again. It soothed me; I found his broad shoulder with my mouth and sucked hard on it, using my tongue to explore the firmness of it. I could taste the salt on his skin from the exertion of our previous acts of pleasure, and although any sort of taste would have normally disgusted me from anyone, I felt as though it added to his masculinity. 

Masculinity? Why did that thought turn me on? Was I that easy to flip from the alpha straight male role? The reality set in again as I found the tip of his dick my balls until our shafts slid together, rubbing. This was a man I had never considered sexually attractive in the slightest, but tonight I was in bed with him, sucking him, and mentally comparing him with a wild animal from the mountains. My bear. The pet name stuck with me once more. It was not that I considered bestiality something I would wish to try; it was just that something in the dark entanglement of his chest hairs seemed to make me feel like someone seeking comfort from a teddy bear. Except, this was no teddy bear, and here I was, with a man who would do things with me again that would make me question my sexuality. 

But most of all, I wanted him to. 

I continued to kiss his shoulder, feeling our cocks rub against each other. They crossed, shifted, broke away, and then crossed again, each time hardening more than before. It was like a shaft of concrete against me, trying to find the appropriate place to call home. 

His lips traveled down, tongue tracing my collarbone until it found the light sprinkling of hair on my chest. James tenderly kissed each pectoral muscle, then took each set of fingers off of the nipples. Carefully, his tongue traced around the left nipple, his blue eyes finding mine. The touch was sensual yet borderline teasing. Then, the tongue traveled to the right, without him breaking eye contact, and circled the right. I felt myself tensing under the touch, wanting nothing more than for James to touch my dick in that moment. My cock strained, leaking pre-cum. 

He took his time with this, listening to my deepening breath as my hands held the sides of his neck. My fingers caressed his earlobes as my index fingers traced the fine black hairs bordering his ears. Then, when he was ready, his eyes broke contact so his mouth could take the entirety of the right nipple into it. He sucked it harder than I had done to him, nibbling the tip- not enough to hurt but to send tingles all over my body. Without realizing it, I began bucking my hips into him, harder and faster with each new sensation that he produced once he introduced his tongue to my nipple. Then, before I knew it, James pulled off. 

I hadn't even realized that I closed my eyes for a moment, but once the feeling stopped, I regained my sense of reality. Our eyes met, and under a head of tousled short black hair and twinkling blue eyes, I found his grin. It was a look that no one else had ever given me before, as if James somehow knew all of my darkest secrets at that particular moment. 

At once, the moment was broken as he attacked the left nipple with the same amount of passion. My eyes closed again to savor the feeling of his teeth gently plucking the tip of it further into his mouth like they were trying to milk it. The tongue flickered over it to rub out the roughened tingle that the teeth brought. The result was a mixture of rough and smooth pleasure that made me whimper. My body writhed under his touch, wanting nothing but for James to continue providing such pleasure. 




Prom Night Ch. 02



In my self-induced blindness to this scene on top of me, I began to feel one of his hands brush underneath me. Softly, the hand caressed my hip and then to one of my buttocks; I felt it give a firm grasp and then continue. Like it were massaging. And it moved on, until I was sure it would reach the other buttock. The feeling, combined with the workout on my left nipple, seemed to make me tense even more, begging for him to do something to me- anything at this point- to allow my cock to explode. 

But the hand did not travel to the other buttock; it stopped in the crack of my ass, lightly tracing from the very top downward until it reached between my thighs. I sighed at the new sensation. No one had ever touched my ass, let alone in that way, but now that James had, I felt defenseless. What had been the strong, masculine straight boy was no more; I was quivering under my AP History teacher's firm touch. And I loved it. 

I no longer questioned why or what it meant, only gave in to the touch and gasped as his index finger traveled inside the crack of my ass to run down. Searching unsteadily as if it were unsure of whether or not to proceed. 

It paused. 

"Oh, please..." I trailed off in almost a whisper, spreading my legs further apart to provide better access. I needed it, knowing now where it would go. What we would do. I didn't care about anything but that moment, finally giving in. At last, it continued traveling, its nail gently brushing the skin between my buttocks and eliciting more moans from me, until it found what it desired. 

My hole. 

Never in my life had I imagined such pleasure being produced from a part of my body so sacred and intimate. But now, I couldn't understand how it was possible my mind had overlooked such a thought. Never again would I sell my opportunities for new experiences for a mere public image, I promised myself as long as his finger rubbed the outside of my hole. Gently, it began to push in. As soon as it began to, stinging pain shot from my hole at the feeling of it being stretched to accommodate anything entering it for the first time in my life. I winced, but the sensations that he was giving my nipple seemed to counteract it. Satisfied with his work, James now continued to alternate between the two, leaving me on the brink of screaming bloody murder and screaming his name as they intermixed. 

It felt like only the tip of the index finger was in, but it slowly began rocking, easing what must have been another sixteenth of an inch into me to ensure I did not feel as much pain. It continued to sting as my hole bottomed out on the finger, and finally, the pain was too much to be counteracted by the pleasure. 

"Hold up..." I panted, and found him pulling off. His finger eased out, still stinging on its way out but without as much intensity. When our eyes met, I found his searching my face with concern. 

"I'm sorry..." James breathed. "Are you okay?" 

Still trying to calm myself from the fingering, I answered by running my fingers through his hair. Then I leaned down to kiss his forehead. "I'm okay; I just need a little lube if we're going to do that." 

The concern was still on his face as my arm reached over to the bedside table and pulled open the drawer. With a squeal, it pulled open, the bottle of vodka rolling against the side as it did. But beside that, my fingers found the object of their desire- the condoms and the lubricant that I had been planning to use on Kara earlier that evening. If I could thank that bitch right now, I mused to myself. Who would have guessed when I picked them from the variety in the local Walgreens that I would be choosing the ones that get used on me? 

James leaned down and kissed my torso, his hands reaching down to both of my buttocks and gently massaging them to alleviate the pain. When I held out the lube to him, he looked back up at me as if he were analyzing whether or not he should. "Please?" I finally asked. 

"Are you sure about this?" 

"Yes..." I whispered. "I want you." 

Without another word, James took the tube of lubricant and applied a generous coating to his index finger. Then he proceeded to rub it around the tight lips of my hole once more. Against the air conditioned room, it was cool to the touch, making me shiver. Then I felt the finger press again, rocking back and forth gently. Little by little, it proceeded to make way inside me. The lube helped to alleviate most of the pain. 

First, the tip made it through, but with easy rocking, a little more slid in. Followed by more. I tried to relax myself, feeling how much more it hurt when I allowed my cheeks to clench around his finger. Little by little, it continued on, until what pain there was before seemed to numb and I felt his finger all the way inside. 

James grinned at me, and I felt his cock twitch a little more against my leg. 

Carefully, he began to pull the finger out, until it reached the tip. Then it slowly changed course to bury itself in my ass again. In and out, it began to finger fuck me, and I felt myself relax with each new thrust. I smiled back at him, my eyes never leaving his as he fingered me. 

His other hand made the bottle of lube disappear for a moment and paused the assault. Then, I felt another finger with a generous coating of lubricant trying to join the other digit inside me. This one was met with more resistance, breeding more of the stinging pain that I had experienced earlier. I bit my lip, but I didn't say anything. I didn't want him to stop, somehow knowing that if James stopped now that he wouldn't give me what I was beginning to understand I needed him to give me tonight. 

As he watched my face, James began to pull out, but I stopped him. "Don't...please. I'm fine." For an instant, roughened lines of his twenty-eight-year-old face looked uncertain. But after a pause, he continued on. 

Steadily, the second finger continued to press on, until it succeeded in joining its mate. He held them there, buried deep, for a minute, allowing my mind to wonder what the real thing would feel like. And how would it fit? I was going to find out soon. 

They finally began to rock back and forth, lengthening their thrusts each turn. It felt numb and oddly pleasurable. I felt full, but each time he almost extracted the fingers entirely, it was as though James was stealing a piece of me. Leaving me incomplete. Whether it was strictly mental or I was beginning to find a new depth to the man behind the Windsor knot so characteristic of young males straight out of the teacher factories, I did not know. I only knew that I was ready for the real thing. 

Gazing into each other's eyes, James seemed to know what I was thinking. With care, he withdrew the fingers and reached for a condom. I watched as he meticulously unwrapped it and rolled the lubricated latex over his hardened shaft. When it was finally fully encased, it made the cock look as though it would burst through the material with power at any moment. 

"Is it too small?" I couldn't help myself from asking the question, no matter how idiotic it sounded once I vocalized it. 

"Just right," James grinned, showing me he could still adjust it with his hand. Then, his hand began working a generous amount of lubricant on his dick and even more on the hole. While I felt it might be overkill from the feeling of some of it running down to the top of my ass, I didn't say anything because I was certain it was because he didn't want me to hurt again. Finally satisfied, he began to crawl up over top of me until his lips met mine. 

This kiss was softer, without tongue, like our first kiss. Then it deepened, bleeding into a second kiss which was more passionate. As we kissed, his hands grabbed my thighs and brought them up until my legs rested on his broad shoulders. Even in the soft light from the hotel room lamps, his tanned torso looked rough and powerful, like he could break me at any moment if he wished. But I was safe, knowing from the deep care behind the blue eyes that he wouldn't. 

I felt the tip of the knob at my hole, and instinctively, I tensed at the feeling. This would be the point of no return. If even the tip of a man's cock entered my hole, I knew that I would not be able to banish the memory of it from my mind. I would have tried something that most straight men would be uncomfortable feeling. 

And I didn't care. 

Seeing my soft smile, James slowly began to enter me. My hole put up resistance at the feeling, until I remembered how I had to relax myself with his fingers. Taking a slow, steady breath, I tried to apply what I had learned from his fingering, releasing the tension from my manner. That seemed to alleviate some of the stinging as James gently rocked back and forth, poking a little more of his warm cock in each thrust. Bit by bit, it went a little further inside, making me feel fuller than I had ever felt before. There seemed to be no end to his thick shaft as it burrowed further into me. His breath was ragged as he did, breathing deeply with a look that told me his main focus was ensuring he wouldn't hurt me. 

At last, I felt the bush of black hair press against my bottom, and he left himself there for a minute to give us both a break. My arms hooked around the back of his neck, pulling him down to me for a kiss. When our lips met, it was as if the bed we were in together began to float off the floor as the ceiling vanished, allowing it to fly through the night sky. Never before did I feel so fulfilled, wishing for nothing more than to make that moment last a lifetime. 

His soft lips parted from mine, a sweet and yet curious expression in his eyes. What was James thinking, I wondered? Did he feel the brief instance of magic that I had fantasized? We were still firmly on the bed, which was secured to the plush champagne carpeting, but it still felt like cloud nine. Slowly, James kissed me again, both of us falling into the pleasure as his cock began to withdraw from my hole. It slid out as his tongue traced my bottom lip, then extended as I opened my mouth. Mine danced with it a wet and warm tango, never wanting to let go. But he began to break away as his cock almost fully exited me, and I used my lips to suck on the tip of his tongue as it began to retreat. 

Slowly, he pushed back in all the way as though we were pushing me into the pillows. Then he began to withdraw again, slowly rocking back and forth. His hips were developing a steady rhythm like he had been doing this with me all of his life. I hardly noticed when I began to meet each thrust with my hips, trying to push as much of him into me as I could. The steady rocking, combined with looking into each other's eyes alleviated any tension I had had from the night. I became lost in the moment, my rock hard cock petting the forest of black fur with each new thrust. I could feel the wetness of my pre-cum watering some of it down, amplifying the sensation of the moment, and I couldn't help but begin to moan. The pleasure was overcoming any feeling of discomfort, and I was his. 

"You like that, baby?" James panted as he began rocking a little faster. His breathing was more ragged than before, and I could feel his body becoming warmer from the exertion. 

"Yes...Oh, James, please... Please, more." I begged, pulling him down for a quick kiss. He answered with a tease, doing three faster and harder jabs into me. I gasped at this, ending the new dance of our tongues. 

"Holy shit," James breathed, close enough that I could feel the searing heat from it all over my neck. He was trying to speak, getting into a faster rhythm now that was beginning to make the bedsprings groan, but every time he tried to form a word, it seemed to die into breathing. His thrusts became deeper, more purposeful. It were as though his dick needed my ass, would die without it. 

Faster and faster, the bed began to groan louder and began clanking as the pieces of the frame jostled to and fro with the piston-movement. My hips beat against him as they proceeded to gyrate back and forth to meet his thrusts even faster, making an almost slapping noise. 

"James...James, harder! Harder!" 

James groaned and obliged, losing himself in the moment as his head went to my chest. I could feel the dampness from his hair moistening my collarbone as I felt his steamy breath on my pectorals. My knees were now pressed firmly against my shoulders as his hands clenched the sheets on either side of my body. My hands held the back of his head close, fearing as though he would disappear at any moment. As though the groaning he was doing into my chest would cease to sound. 

I was panting too, his body heat combining with mine to produce sweat from my glands. Never before had I been so warm and still felt so needed and cared for. I could feel him beginning to trail kisses wherever his lips could reach on my torso as his thrusts continued. "D-Dom...Dom..." I heard in between the touch of his lips. My bear, who I hoped would cuddle me all night, was now sounding as if he were about to lose control. "Dom!" 

"That's it, J-j...Jam...Jamesss!" I whimpered, giving myself over to the pleasure I was receiving. My cock was harder than ever before, my juices now having rubbed away with the combination of the movement and the heat. What was left was sticky and lustful need. 

"I...Can-t. Can't hold...Can't hold on anymore." His voice was strained; I could hear it trying to hold back with each movement. 

"C-cum! Cum for me!" I begged him. "JAMES! CUM FOR ME!" I was losing control, no longer caring about who would hear my voice. I was pleading for this man to give my ass what it needed. 

His head angled up towards me, and I could see the dampness surrounding his hairline. His blue eyes pierced my body, claiming me forever as his own. "Here it comes, baby...Here. It. COMES!" 

I pulled his lips to mine, and our mouths fought for dominance as his body began to writhe. I felt his warm cock begin to pulse inside me as it did, feeling all the tension within him evaporating as he let go. The feeling of his warm body against my cock and the feeling of him climaxing and the knowing of what we had just done was too much for me; on his final thrust, I began to lose it. I felt myself begin to spurt cum between us, the movement of our bodies rubbing making it a sticky, warm lotion between us. My ass, in turn, clenched his cock, milking the remaining drops from it as he began to groan into my mouth from the sensitivity. 

We stayed like that, kissing, until we began to feel our bodies relax so we could calm our breathing. It was then that we broke away, him gasping as his arms circled underneath me. "That was...incredible. In-fucking-credible..." He breathed, kissing my shoulder. 

"You were incredible," I kissed his cheek, rubbing his back with my hands. 

Slowly, James pulled out, and I couldn't help but feel as though it was not what we were supposed to do. While until that night I had considered myself completely straight, I felt like we were supposed to keep it in even afterwards, making the connection of us complete. But I was too spent to ask him otherwise. I rolled over on my side to watch him as he carefully slipped out of bed and removed the condom, tying it off to dispose of in the bathroom trash can. I heard him using the sink- presumably to clean himself with a washcloth. I remembered how I used to after sex with girls, despite how it used to freak some of them out. 

In a moment, James returned, sitting on the bed with a damp washcloth. Gently, he began to wipe it over my torso, then around my crotch. His eyes looked at me, analyzing me again. Would this be it? Would he leave now, when I needed his presence the most? Momentary regret started to creep into the back of my mind, growing as I watched him return the cloth to the bathroom. 

What would you even say if he decided to go? You can't make him stay, and you know that. The thought was true, allowing me to remember that I was just a student. But I was naked and in a bed with him. Whether he stayed was his choice. 

I was surprised when the light of the room suddenly extinguished, and in the darkness, I found a lone figure making its way across the room to the bed. I felt it pause by the bedside, perhaps unsure itself of what to do, then calmly pull the covers back. It climbed back into bed without a word, and in the darkness, its right arm found me and pulled me into him. 

Neither of us spoke as I rested my head on the mat of black chest hair and his left arm pulled the covers up over us to keep warm. I wanted to say something to him, anything, but I didn't know what to say. Any time that I had fucked a girl in the past, pillow talk was not something we engaged in. What do people say in these situations after pillow talk led to more sex and you still needed to talk? I looked up at the Italian-French-American man in wonder. 

Finally, his head angled down and softly kissed my lips. Then his right arm snuggled me closer, the left joining in to lock around me, and I knew that no matter what happened in the night, this teddy bear of a man was here with me. And it felt right. 

Listening to the beat of James's heart, I stayed like that until I fell asleep. 

*** 

James Monaco undid the Windsor knot of his tie for perhaps the fifteenth time Saturday morning. He was getting annoyed with it, finding that his first attempts made the knot too loose and the later ones the incorrect length. Dammit. Focus, you idiot. But no matter how many times his hands tried to thread the end of the fabric around, James found himself at a loss. His fingers fumbled with the material, and finally, he gave up. He crumpled the tie and stuffed it into the pocket of his pants, aggravated with it, and popped open the top button of his shirt collar. If anyone from work would see him at that moment, James figured they would probably tell him he looked like Hell. 

He felt like Hell. 

Staring into the mirror at himself, he couldn't help but go back over the events after last night's sexual release in his mind. He had gotten out of the bed to clean himself up, but as soon as he made it to the bathroom, James found himself faced with the reality. Everything he had worked for so long for- once gone into debt for- was over. He couldn't see himself walking away from this without losing everything as he knew it. He had known the risks, and it was the voice of Mr. Trant, his History of American Education professor, that snuck into his mind as he washed off his student's semen that night. 

"Now, at the time that a complaint of sexual molestation is filed with the school by the parents, what would happen is that you would be called into a meeting with the superintendent and the principals. They would question you for your side and would address the nature of the situation. They will tell you that they're going to conduct an investigation, and they will ask you whether you want it to be public or private. With public, you'll career is finished because your reputation will be marked, even if you're innocent. Why? Because of the media; everyone will know that you were involved in a situation such as that. But if you go with private, most schools would rather terminate your employment, regardless of whether or not you're guilty or innocent. They usually don't investigate as much and try to go with the quietest way of handling it... But either way, pardon my French, you're fucked." 

The entire lecture at the time he was a mere student at Carlton seemed absurd to James at the time and impossible. He never imagined that it would be one of the rules that he would break, regardless of age of consent or the occasional crush a student would develop throughout his time teaching. The idea had made him sick to his stomach, until he couldn't help but wonder if he should leave. 




Prom Night Ch. 02



He had tried. 

James disposed of the condom in the trash and only planned on offering the hand towel to Dom. But as he padded back to the bed, he couldn't help but take in the memory of his first kiss with him. It was enough to make his knees grow weak, until he could do nothing but sit on the bed and wipe off the spent fluids from the younger man's body. 

The power of it remained, testing the depth of the waters in his comfort zone until he found himself standing by the bedside in the dark. Although James had not been entirely certain that he should, he gave in to a need he did not understand and climbed into the bed to hold the naked boy tight. Never before had he felt something like that for another man. He had always considered himself straight. And a teacher that made a promise to remain professional. Now, he was in an unknown land, without a career or shred of the identity left that had been James Robert Monaco. 

What had it been that changed the rules of his feelings? Had Dom been right about him? Did he sell himself out for a plastic image that others wanted? He couldn't have. He chose Carlton. He chose teaching. So why did he feel lost right now and, last night, completely figured out? What did the tie and the Windsor knot mean that they were vital right now? It was a Saturday, for chrissake. 

Still gazing into the mirror, James did not know. It left him uneasy, but not as uncertain as the other aspect of his mistake which squeezed his mind. It flooded his mind like poison, until he could no longer think about last night without worrying about what would happen in the near future. James did not want to think about it, and he tried to push it away as much as possible; he had enough to be concerned about now that his professional life was over and he wasn't certain how he felt about it. He refrained from turning on his phone as he began to hear the sleeping boy stir in the bedroom. 

Here goes nothing...he thought to himself and walked through the open doorway into the bedroom. It was brighter than when he got up to shower an hour ago with bright sunlight pouring over the scene of his crime. In the twisted and piled bedsheets and half buried under the thick comforter, he found Dom looking up at him with sleep filled eyes. 

"Morning," Dom smiled at him. 

"Morning," James answered. Even as the word slipped into the air, he still found himself unsure of how he was going to handle the situation. He knew, deep down, that what he was attempting not to think about would, perhaps, end up being the biggest blow. Standing there, James Monaco knew he had no choice. 

Shit... 

*** 

The moment I awoke, I felt that something was different. Angled on my right side towards the plate glass windows, I saw the sprinkling of concrete and glass buildings of the industrial parks and corporate centers across the expanse of surrounding lawn owned by the Rose. The sun illuminated the landscape, accenting the faint blue mountainsides of Northern Pennsylvania far on the distant horizon. It would have been amazing, had it not been for fact that the bed felt uneven, as if I were alone. 

Still groggy, I rolled over to find that my suspicion was true; James was gone. I sat up to try to get an angle of the floor, noting that his clothes, save for his suit jacket, were gone as well. Would he leave without saying goodbye, much less without his suit jacket? I wasn't sure. There had been that edge of slight discomfort, I felt, when he laid down to sleep with me last night. But I hoped that it was something we could put at ease together come morning. I laid back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. Even if he was still around, what did I really expect to do, anyway? I couldn't answer any of these questions, and I wasn't sure if I wanted to be able to. 

Finally, I heard footsteps coming from the bathroom, and James came into the room. His hair looked slightly damp, as if he had just showered not long before, and he was dressed in the pants and shirt from the night before. But the tie was gone; instead, his shirt was open at the top button, allowing me to see the hint of chest hair beneath the shirt. While I had never considered myself gay, I was now beginning to see him for more than just a teacher. I couldn't help but think of the way he felt inside me, of how I wanted to feel that way again. He was attractive, I knew I could not deny it, despite never having considered a man as such before. 

"Morning." 

"Morning." There seemed to be something else behind the word as he spoke. But what? I hoped he would tell me, but I decided that it was probably best to leave it be until he was ready, if he would be. We had crossed a number of boundaries last night, ones that meant more to him right now than to me for their obvious implications. I only hoped James wouldn't insist that it was entirely him; I wouldn't have done what I did- especially twice- if I didn't want it. "I hope you don't mind; I decided to take a shower." 

"Not at all. I was actually going to ask if you wanted to." I looked at his face and took in the details. The eyes were mysterious now, knowing that was not what he wanted to say. "Actually, this room comes with a continental breakfast for two... If you want..." What was I doing? Was I starting to get serious about a hookup? Couldn't be. In the past, I never cared about going through the date routine if I wanted satisfaction. Girls were a sport I liked to play. 

But this was a man. 

I wanted to stop the words as they were leaving my mouth, but I was powerless, giving in to what I knew deep down I wanted. Silence hung in the air as I watched him mentally debate with himself about what he wanted. Maybe this would be the deciding factor in steps to come; the ball was in his court. 

As if he could reach no conclusion, James nodded. "That could be nice." The relaxed air of him that was so evident last night seemed to have washed away with the shower. In its wake was a confused man of twenty-eight, that I was concerned would be hurt from an encounter we both sought pleasure for. And what else was there? Fear. Yes, there was a touch of it, and I knew why. I wished I could tell him there was nothing to fear- that no matter the outcome, I wouldn't be able to bring myself to allow last night to ever become known. While a small part of it was because it was an experience with a man, something that I wanted to keep private, a larger part was because this man and I had acted it out together, mutually. By that thought, I was just as responsible as James was, and I knew I would never be able to live with myself if I destroyed a man's life for something I had a part in. 

"I should probably get ready then," I replied. Again, he nodded, and I slipped from beneath the bed covers. The cold air of the room chilled me to the bone, arousing my nipples. Chills ran down my spine. At once, I felt just as vulnerable as I had the night before when we acted out with passion. 

James looked uneasy at the sight of me, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, his one hand rubbing the scruff around his mouth as the other held onto his belt where his hip met it. His gaze also shifted, moving from one spot on the floor, to me, to another spot on the floor and back. It seemed like he wanted to look at me but was trying to convince himself not to. Was he going to turn me away? I hoped not. Still, it was nice to know he still enjoyed what he saw. 

Bending down, I grabbed the clean clothes I had from the backpack on the floor by the television cabinet and went in to the bathroom, feeling his eyes on me as I walked away. I showered quickly and dressed, second guessing whether or not I should have worn the clothes from the night before as I looked at myself in the mirror. From my jeans to my ratty t-shirt, I thought I didn't look very mature. Too immature for a talk such as what I knew was sure would come. Reluctantly, I gave in, aware now that I was becoming nervous. James was still quiet as I left the bathroom and began packing everything up in the backpack. Even when he saw the bottle of vodka, he didn't say a word. He saw on the chair where we had thrown our clothes last night, gripping the front of the arms. 

I slung it over my shoulder, "Ready?" I swallowed, the tension of the room getting to me. I looked at the bed with its tossed sheets, remembering what we did. If these walls could talk... 

I found him looking at it too, then at me. "Alright." He rose to his feet, picked up his jacket, and together we left the hotel room. I heard the door click shut behind us with the electronic lock and took my last glance at room 316. Regardless of what was to come, I knew I would always have that night. 

We walked in silence to the elevator. Out of the corner of my eye, I could still see him rubbing his scruff. He opened his mouth once like he wanted to say something and then stopped. It was like the wall which fell last night had been rebuilt in the time he was awake before me. I was beginning to wonder if it would ever come down again. When we rode down to the lobby, the woman at the front desk was not there, another difference in the world now from the world then. I couldn't help but frown a little, wishing I could replay the time we spent together the previous night. 

I wasn't very hungry when we were at breakfast, but I decided it was best to act natural. We entered the room off the lobby to find a brightly lit dining room with floor to ceiling plate glass windows on the far side opening onto a spacious patio sprinkled with tables. Behind it, among the vibrant grounds of the garden, the pool was alive with little kids splashing and jumping in. To the right of the scattering of tables inside the room, two large screen televisions played the local weather and the latest from NBC. To the left, in an alcove, two breakfast bars dominated the area. 

Carefully, I grabbed a plate and retrieved a warm bagel from a basket of them. I took a container of cream cheese and scooped some of the fresh fruit onto my place from a chilled bowl set on ice. Then I waited as James grabbed some eggs and a cup of coffee, and together, we went outside. Among the busy chatter of businessmen on cell phones and families enjoying quality time at breakfast, I spotted a vacant table for two at the far side of the patio and led the way. It was shaded by a neatly trimmed pink dogwood tree, shielding it from the harsh Pennsylvania heat in May. 

For a while, we ate in silence. I couldn't bring myself to meet his gaze for fear of those analytical eyes staring me down. I felt them on me off and on, as if he were waiting for the right moment to speak. I felt like we were the only quiet guests out of the mix, but what could I say? If this was how things were to be and he felt as I feared he did, was there any way that I could stop him? He liked what he saw when I got out of bed; I was almost sure of it now. But it wouldn't be enough for a teacher to justify bending the rules. 

And what did I want? A date? I didn't even know. I had never considered our trysts to be anything romantic. What would it be like? Dinners with his family at Thanksgiving and bickering over who should fold the load of laundry in the dryer? It was 2015; we could be married? No, that was ridiculous. There was nothing between us. To think otherwise would be foolish; it was a night of fun and experimentation. 

The hell it is... I got lost as my eyes wandered up to his face. His eyes were on me too, biting his lip in silence. It was a move that was holding back still and was somehow lost all at once. I wished he'd come out with it already, but I couldn't deny that the expression warmed my heart to him. There was something more, despite my gut feeling that he felt otherwise. 

"How is it?" I finally worked up the courage to ask. 

James nursed his coffee cup, holding it still before him after he finished his sip. "It's good..." He trailed off, then, "Dom, I have something that I feel needs to be addressed...because I feel terrible." His cup was slightly unsteady as he spoke, like his voice. It seemed to lose its firm command as he stared at me, as if he were unsure of how to proceed. 

I put down my bagel before I could take a bite. "Okay." The word did not come easily to my vocal chords. This would be the point that everything would change. 

"Dom...Dom..." He set the cup down, eyes following the ripples of the liquid in it. "I don't even know what to say..." Swallowing hard like he was trying to regain some composition, James continued. "I really, really, really enjoyed last night... But that doesn't change the fact that what we did... That whatever..." He was losing what he was saying as our eyes locked, a moment of pure electricity hanging in the air between us. "Christ," he breathed. 

"I enjoyed it too, James..." My voice sounded smaller and clumsy, but too steady in volume for him to deny having heard it. He stared at me with eyes of what? Sadness? Regret; it looked like it. I knew that I had just made it harder on him, but I couldn't help but admit it to him. I felt more relaxed with James last night then I had in a while with another, as if I wouldn't mind sharing secrets with him. 

His hand rubbed the scruff around his mouth again. "In a way, it would be easier if you didn't... It felt...right. But whatever this is..." James paused to stare at me, and took a deep breath, "Whatever would happen in typical situations between two people like this...can't happen. I'm sorry, Dom." 

The iron fist had fallen at last, and suddenly, I had lost what little appetite I had before. I looked down at my open bagel, toying with its position on the plate. "I see; it was a mistake. Don't worry; I'm sure it happens all the time." 

"No, Dom," James leaned in suddenly, his eyes pleading, "Don't say that; it wasn't. Last night..." Carefully, he looked around to see who was nearby. Satisfied that no one was listening, James continued, "Last night was the first night in a while that I felt..." 

"Like something wasn't missing," I finished, staring coldly into his eyes. 

James was taken aback. "Yes..." he answered. The moment turned colder as he began shaking his head, eyes never leaving mine. "But, Dom, we can't..." 

"Why?" I braced myself for the answer to come. I was hurt, but I didn't understand why. Before last night, he was nothing to me. Just a name on the top of a report I'd submit for a grade. But the game changed; now the rules were changing too. 

He looked down at the table for a little, then up at me. Pain was spreading across his face, intermixed with the regret that I had seen earlier. All at once, I had a feeling that it did not have to do with last night at all- that there was something deeper slowly killing the stunning blue glaze of his eyes and transforming it into a darkened pool of hurt. Finally, James sat back in silence and looked down, seeming to know he could no longer speak without further hurting me or himself. 

When he looked up at me, hurt filled his face as he retrieved a gold ring from his pocket and slipped it onto his left ring finger. 

My jaw dropped.



Prom Night Ch. 03



Dear Readers, 

Everything is going according to plan. 

-Steve 

For a minute, I couldn't help but stare at him. Shock washed over me, intermixed with hurt, as if a needle full of misery had been injected into my veins. Whatever had been built last night was beginning to crumble all around us. It was like watching the 1871 burning of Chicago and being powerless to stop the devastation as it swept across town. There could be nothing that I could say to him that would change the act that he had just completed. Hurt dug into me, and I knew, just like the fire, after this conversation was over, all that would remain would be the bone and fingernails of what was once a pleasant dream. 

Then came the wave of anger. 

"You're married!" I couldn't help the growl of my voice. It bit into the tension between us, making a heavyset man at a nearby table give us a strange look before returning to his oatmeal. My hands gripped the side of the table with white knuckles, wanting nothing more than to erase all memory of the night before. Casual sex was one thing; casual sex with a married man was another. All I could think of when it came to tampering with a relationship like that was disgust. Disgust with the person breaking the relationship apart and the memory of how my uncle had refused to date again after his wife of fourteen years left him for her coworker. 

Regret seemed to drip from James's face. "Technically...engaged. I'm not married yet." He swallowed before continuing. "I'm sorry, please-" 

"Oh, great, engaged is so much fucking better!" My voice went lower so no one would hear, and I had trouble keeping the edges of emotion from creeping into it. 

"Dominic..." James stared at me pleadingly, "Please, just let me try to elaborate before you castrate me. Then, I swear, any repercussion of this discussion or of last night, I accept full responsibility for..." 

I stared at him, uncertain. 

Finally, as if he could no longer take my stare anymore, James looked down at the plate of eggs he hadn't touched. "Christ, you'll never believe a word I say, and, Dominic, I don't expect you to. I just need to say this so, regardless of what you ultimately decide to do, you'll at least know how I feel. I accept any consequence that goes with all of this... And although I know I'm the last person that you want to be around right now, I truly am sorry..." He trailed off, eyes meeting my gaze of pure ice again, then continued, "For whatever it's worth." 

I stayed staring, feeling the vibrations of the confrontation rattling my bones. Chills raced over me, telling me to do nothing more than to sprint from the hotel. But, instead, I stayed, and I waited for him to go on. 

As if seeming to get the cue, James swallowed again and looked back at the tabletop. Then, trying to piece together what words would not set me off further, he pushed his plate away from him and clasped his hands together. "Her name is Caroline... We met in college, and there never seemed to be any huge problems with her. So, I guess, in the end, it was only natural that we should..." He paused, trying to choose the words carefully, and finally gave up, "You know..." Another pause. "But, as you had mentioned before, something was... I don't know." 

My sight never left him for a moment, watching the way he struggled with his words and attempted to condense his form and shrivel away. 

"Last night wasn't a lie, Dom... It was the first night in months that I felt like I wasn't just doing something because it was safe. I felt...Hell, I don't even know what I felt. But it was real, whatever it was. I should have said something; I'm not going to sugar coat that..." One of his hairy hands went up to rub the scruff around his mouth again, as if James wanted nothing more than to vocalize the best words to describe exactly how he was feeling. "I didn't plan on kissing you; I certainly didn't plan on anything else after that. For me, it was just getting lost in what I felt was..." His voice lowered, "beautiful." 

I caught the last word despite his obvious humiliation in admitting last night felt more natural than it did with his own fiancé. I bit my lower lip and looked around the tabletop. I was unsure if I wanted to hear more of it or if he was telling the truth. I found my anger losing intensity, being replaced with more hurt. 

A long silence passed between us, and then finally, James went on, "I allowed myself to get lost in last night, and I'm sorry... As soon as I went into the bathroom to wash up last night, I knew I should have told you everything, even before our first kiss. But then it was too late...and now, because of me, I hurt an innocent person. I never wanted to hurt you, although I don't expect you to believe that. And no matter what you decide to do or what consequences I face, I want you to have the best life possible. I want you to be happy, Dominic, because if last night was only the tip of who you are..." A tiny bit of moisture seemed to coat his blue eyes when I found them, as if he were about to cry. I knew he wouldn't be able to go on with that sentence; the hurt in his face was too much. "Whatever you decide to do," he swallowed, "I deserve it. You're well within your right to go to the school board." 

The anger flared again, like the fires of Chicago, at the mention of the last sentence. "Are you fucking serious?" I snapped. His blue eyes looked back at me with hurt and remorse. "Are you fucking serious, James? Do you think I'd go to the school board? Do you really think this is about the school board anymore?" 

He stared down at the table again, as if he were trying to distance himself. Then, after a long hesitation, he spoke, "I'm just telling you what your options are, Dominic." 

"Fuck your school board," I hissed and got up from the table. I couldn't take it anymore, the pain riddling my body with its pin pricks. Before James could respond, I already had my backpack slung over my shoulder and was pushing through the patio doors into the breakfast lounge. I didn't look back as I charged into the lobby to the front desk and checked out. I heard frantic footsteps behind me as I handed over my room key, but it only made me want to leave sooner. 

A minute later, I was almost at a run across the parking lot to where I parked my car. In the morning sun, it usually looked like just another powder blue 1989 Plymouth Horizon that was badly in need of more clear-coat on its right front fender. But this morning, it was a sleek rocket ready to blast me away from misery. Fidgeting with the key, I tried to stuff it into the ancient lock and fumbled, noticing for the first time that my hands were shaking. 

I could still hear the footsteps rushing, which only served to further motivate me. I tried again, failing, then at last managed to get it in and unlock the car. In a heartbeat, I threw the bag onto the passenger seat and slammed the door shut. I didn't bother with a seatbelt but immediately started it, listening to the motor groan to life. I slammed it into first gear, and with a squeal of the suspension, it was off. While I had rarely stuffed my foot to the floor, the Plymouth responded with surprising quickness, allowing me to shift up into second, then third and fourth until I was punching fifty before I even left the parking lot. 

The hills of Destin, Pennsylvania rushed by as I raced the car out of the lot and weaved it in and out of traffic on the two lane road heading away from the corporate parks. Only when I was two miles away, racing past the white block building of my high school did I begin to relax. My heart was pounding, my emotions still churning with confusion. How could he think of doing that to me? The question was laden with shards of glass around it, hurting every corner of my mind as it bounced around inside my head. 

My Plymouth whined as I shifted down into third, slowing down. I had no wish to be pulled over by the police, especially after the morning I had just had. Instead, I found myself turning onto 19th Street, stomping on the brakes to avoid ramming into the rear end of a Prius making a turn into a car dealership. Absentmindedly, I slapped the wheel in my shock. 

"'You're well within your right to go to the school board.' Are you fucking kidding me?" Anger coursed through my veins at the memory of his words. Since when did this concern anyone but the two of us? And how could he believe that I would be capable of destroying his life? The very idea was a betrayal to the invisible trust that wrapped around us the night before, shattering it like a sledge hammer against a glass bottle. Well within my right to go to the school board... I fucking should. 

As soon as my mind processed the sentence, I regretted it. He had hurt me, yes, but did that make it worth it? When I assessed the pieces of my predicament in my mind, I attempted to set the hurt aside. What I had when I tried was last night, a night that I had... I stopped in my assessment once more; had what? Fallen for him? No, that wasn't logical. It was sex, and in a hotel room, no less. Now, it was sex with a man that was engaged. Stop that, and look at the facts! 

The light turned green, and I let my foot off the clutch. The Horizon yelped and stalled, rocking forward. In my search for some peace of mind, I had forgotten to replace the car back into first gear. Behind me, a Mazda began blaring its horn as I quickly moved the shifter into first, slammed my foot on the clutch, and flipped the key in the ignition. With ease, the Plymouth roared back to life, and I quickly began easing the car forward, paying attention to the drone of the engine telling me when to shift up. 

At last, having left the last traffic light behind and motoring down a winding road heading away from town, I began to pick up the pieces of the problem at hand again. It was sex that, I had to admit, was good. No matter what, I couldn't deny it. I believed that even a part of me was attempting to entice him further this morning when I got out of bed naked. For that, I knew, I would never be able to live with myself if I had gone to the school board. Regardless of the fact that I was not the type of person to destroy someone's life, knowing I had enjoyed it and had wanted more, on some level, would intensify the guilt associated with it. 

But how much of it was bullshit? That was the trillion dollar question that needed an answer. Surely, James had seemed true when he attempted to explain himself to me and accept responsibility for his wrongs. But was it a game? I found myself going back to the moments of the past when I had been lied to before in intimate relationships. Kara had been one of the biggest liars of all, and how much different was James from her? Did I switch from an arsenic and tonic last night to a straight shot of cyanide? 

Bitterly, I recalled how Kara had told me how badly she was looking forward to the prom with me. She had even made a point of whispering in my ear when I showed up at her house to pick her up that she was wearing something special for me for a very special night. She lied to me, using me as the turn key. And what had James done? He escorted me around the hotel, telling me that he enjoyed the evening. For what? To tell me that he was getting married. 

They were the same, both of them. Regardless of how different James seemed on the outside, he was still the same bitch that Kara was. They come in all different packages with different names, but they're all the same. I slammed the gearshift into fourth, and the Plymouth groaned as it accelerated. 

The game was over. 

*** 

Fuck, fuck, fuck! Handled that one nicely, didn't you! James Monaco's mind screamed at him as he watched his hurt student storm away from the table. The last thing he had wanted to do was to upset Dominic even more than he had already. Knowing that he had made him feel worse than before. For a moment, James sat in the aftermath of his own wrongdoing, trying to piece together how swiftly the air had changed since his time with his student last night. 

He should never have slept with the boy; that much was true. Not only was his career now over, James knew he had hurt someone who was completely innocent. Noting this, they were consequences he would have to live with. He could not go back. No matter how many times he apologized or tried to accept further responsibility, James knew that there was nothing he could do. That fact alone was enough to disgust himself. He buried his face in his hands, elbows on the table top to support himself. 

What the hell made you think it was okay? The question pounded away at his brain, until James could not help but admit that he didn't try to convince himself last night that it was. He tried to rationalize how he was blind to thinking about the woman who would become his wife soon, but the only answer that his mind found was that there was no thought. Instead, there was something- he didn't know what- deep rooted within himself that found Dominic's kiss to be like sugar to a child- addictive and, at the same time, a fuel source for the heart. From the moment their lips met, James was under a spell without a name that crossed the boundaries of years and professionalism and even sexual orientation. It was...what? Need? It couldn't be. 

What the fuck else do you call it, scumbag? He didn't know. He only knew that it couldn't stop there. Raising his face from his hands, he quickly got to his feet and began walking inside. At first, his steps were hesitant, and on some level, James understood that he was crossing into further unknown territory. He passed some of the tables, jacket in hand, allowing this to sink in. 

Feet heavy, they seemed to want to scream at him to stop. Tell him that he had done enough damage already. But another part of him, far away and almost a whisper in its volume compared to the voices of his conscience that he normally followed, told him to move faster. 

He did. 

Foot by foot, his trail to the patio doors and then to the lobby began moving faster all around him as his pace quickened. By the time he reached the lobby, he was almost at a dead run. The blue eyes that now registered with such hurt at knowing the destruction he caused spotted Dominic. He began rushing towards him, the others in the lobby seeming to melt away as his subconscious desire to be close to the boy, to attempt to comfort him, and to console the wrong he had done, took over. 

Weaving between guests as best he could, James rushed after the boy he hurt. His mind pounded with trying to figure out what he would say- what he could say without worsening the situation. But, try as he may, nothing came to mind. Clumsily, James bumped into a woman on her cell phone and almost collided with an elderly man in a wheelchair. He tried to focus on keeping himself from causing mayhem, but his mind was a blur of thoughts. The image of Dom's face haunted his memory, making a crystal clear vision of the fact that nothing would be the same after this. 

Before he could stop himself or attempt to call out to him, James was running across the parking lot, watching as the figure of the eighteen-year-old boy climbed into a powder blue Plymouth. He was halfway across the lot when he heard its rickety engine cough to life and start off. At first, James was sure he might be able to catch it. But then, the car was leaping into action, its compact four-door body cornering like it was on rails, rocketing into the main aisle and toward the entrance of the hotel parking lot. 

Sighing, he slowed and finally stopped, watching the rusted blue blur disappear into the haze of traffic on Freeman's Street. His heart sank, knowing that not only had Dom been hurt but that he no longer wished to see him at all, even platonically. It was as if his bundle of nerves were being twisted until his stomach yelled "uncle" and could no longer stand to look at it. Frustrated, he threw his suit jacket to the ground and turned back to the hotel, blue eyes searching for any window on the third floor that might have been theirs'. But why? It didn't matter anymore; last night had changed something within him but had been swiftly strangled by his own stupidity. 

If you try, you can probably still catch him. Get to the car! The strange voice of his mind seemed to scream at him, until he was unaware that he had fished the key to his 2007 Jeep Sahara out of his pocket. He looked down at the mix of black plastic and shiny metal, turning it over in his hand. He wanted to drive after him and ignore all the traffic laws. But he stopped himself and, instead, after a long pause of allowing the pain to wash over him, carefully picked up the suit jacket and stalked across the lot to his own car. Normally, the dark green hardtop was overlooked and considered average sized. But now, it seemed larger, just the way an angry parent appears to a teenager during a heated confrontation. 

He got in the car and tossed the jacket onto the passenger seat without a care. On any given day, taking care of it would have mattered to him. Today, it did not, as it was a symbol of his wrong. He sat there, allowing how frivolous that symbol was now. Ever since his time student teaching, it was the coat that suggested business to him. It separated him from the rest of the world, commanding respect. Now, it was just a jacket, dusted from the parking lot and wrinkled from the night before. No longer did it command respect; it insulted his soul. 

James was not sure what he could ever do for Dom to let him see that all he had told him was true. Disturbingly, a part of him knew that he might not be able to convince him. Regardless of this, James still felt the need to try. 

Tough luck, fucker. He cursed himself. Why had he been so blind to the consequences of his actions? How could he be so careless as to not think about the bigger picture? Caroline. The name was a knife to his ribcage in knowing how he had let her down too after making a commitment. After all, James was her man; she had told him enough times to make it clear. Last night, regardless of how right it may have felt, was a violation of that. 

Still, it seemed far away right now, despite his inability to assess why. 

The truth seemed, James knew deep down, whether he wanted to admit it or not, that he had been living a life of safety. It was a truth that scared him when it entered in his mind. But, trying to debate it, he could found himself powerless to discredit it. There had been something missing as Dominic had suggested, for the past few weeks, and it scared him to no end. Was he making the correct choices? 

Sitting in the silent car, James pondered this. He had been seeing Caroline since college; they met at a gathering at the Carlton student center through a group of friends. They had found each other equally stimulating, intellectually and had quickly developed a relationship. Despite his time having dated off and on throughout high school and his first year of college, Caroline remained to be James's longest relationship. She was well accepted and liked by his family, and her parents treated James like the son they never had. So, what was the problem? 

James could not be certain, but something within him had felt emotionally uncomfortable when Caroline asked him during their fourth year together if he would want to get married. He couldn't understand what had brought on this feeling; Caroline was a wonderful person. It had kept him up for two nights after they discussed it, until James chalked it up to normal nervous tension with change. For a while, it seemed to disappear entirely, until a few weeks ago when it began to creep back into his mind. James had been feeling terrible for keeping such feelings inside. They were poison inside of him, and he wished they would diminish again. 




Prom Night Ch. 03



What choice did he have left? James knew he cared about Caroline, and at the moment he sat looking out at the expanse of The Rose Hotel, he hated himself for hurting her the way he knew it would if she found out. His blue eyes found the gold wedding band wrapped around his finger, recalling the way she had repeatedly asked him to wear it when he got her engagement ring. James did not feel comfortable with it, despite her relentlessness on the matter. To him, the band was a symbol of a sacred, loving union, meant to materialize at the moment that the vows were vocalized. 

"James, honey, I don't know what the big deal is. Just wear it; times change. Most men who are engaged wear them nowadays." Her words rang in his ears until he found himself cursing his own traditionalism. This aspect of their relationship had always made him feel pressured. The more she asked, the less he felt like it was right to wear it. He hated that feeling, knowing that it would hurt her if she were ever to find out. It did not, however, make the feeling any less true; it made him feel like a stranger, as if he was lying about his own happiness. It kept him from keeping it on when out of her presence, and now, it felt heavier than usual. It was not the coldness of the gold and its weight, he knew, it was the fact that such an act had ultimately hurt innocent people. It was the first time in his life that James ever cheated, and its effect rattled him to the bone. 

For a moment, he let the silence wash over him, noting these thoughts. Then he switched on the engine, adjusting the air conditioning controls until the Jeep Sahara was cooling rapidly. He wanted a cigarette. Despite having refrained from smoking since his sophomore year of college, the need for stress relief was unending. He wanted the nicotine to tell him everything would be alright, that it would be for the best in the end. 

Reaching over, James pulled a six-year-old pack of Marlboro 100's from the glove box and pushed one between his teeth. He was just about to light it before his blue eyes found himself in the rear-view mirror. His face showed remorse for his choices in deep lines, like railroad tracks, and watched the cigarette bob between his lips. 

James didn't light it; he thought about it, but then a memory came into his mind. Dominic, during one of their after-class discussions before the bell, surprised him. Another student named Vicky was trying to convince James to read the historical novel she was nearly finished with. An avid student and, James mused, verified teacher's pet, she was lecturing him on how "accurate" the writing was for 19th century women finding it acceptable to smoke. James did not have the heart to correct such an enthusiastic student, but Dominic broke in to correct her as soon as she paused. 

"Actually, it was more prevalent for women to begin smoking in the 1920's. The companies actually took to developing 'ladies' cigarettes. They contained less tobacco and were considered more becoming... But ever since the 1990's, companies now put more nicotine in them than ever to make it harder to quit. Dreadful habit, really..." A thoughtful look crossed James's face in the mirror as Dominic's words came to him, recalling how the student's face registered a look of nervousness at having corrected a know-it-all. Carefully, as if still lost in the memory, James removed the cigarette from his mouth and replaced it back in the pack. He replaced it back in the glove box and put the Jeep in gear. 

The memory was months ago, and yet, somehow, he felt as if Dominic would not approve if he knew James indulged in a smoke. But what did it matter? He asked himself this as he slowly drove out of the parking lot and proceeded to drive home; in exactly three and a half weeks, James Monaco would be a married man, if his life did not veer off road to the point he would lose Caroline. And there would be nothing that could be done after that. Dom would be free to love and cherish whomever he wanted, and he wouldn't have James to screw up his life. 

It would be okay in the end; Dom could be at peace, regardless of what became of James. 

*** 

The rest of the drive home was short, and I was able to make it in record time with the speed of the Plymouth. In a few short minutes, I was turning onto Highland Circle, the street my house was on. With ease, the compact relic from the 1980's charged up the coal-black pavement that cut between two large slate rock outcroppings and a tight cluster of enormous pine trees. While I had still considered it the city version of the countryside, I had to admit that my parents had good taste in choosing it as a development. Our house was one of the first ones built in it during the early 1990's, allowing me to see a gradual change in the neighborhood as more houses were built. Thankfully due to the local farm preservation, however, our development did not become a monstrosity, keeping a nice cluster of woodlands between each home to preserve privacy. 

The road snaked its way back until I found the stone and sided two story colonial my family and I lived in. Set back from the road up a curved driveway, I could just make out the outline of the deep porch as I pulled up to the driveway. The car gently pulled off the road, maneuvering up the blacktop until I was faced with the two attached garage doors adjacent to my own make-shift garage fashioned out of my father's utility shed. I pulled around until I had the rear of the Horizon aligned with the pressure treated doors and climbed out. At first, I was only going to undo the bolt and open them up, but then a thought occurred to me. I made my way to the electric garage doors and peered through the glass. 

Both spaces were empty. 

Relieved, as I did not wish to deal with anyone else right now, I quickly undid the bolt securing the doors and swung them open. Carefully, I slowly backed the car into the narrow shed, mindful of the tennis ball my father and I strung from the ceiling. It served as a warning of when to stop so I would not mistakenly back into the collection of toolboxes, workbenches, and lawn equipment in the very back of the building. If only such a device could have been used last night to prevent myself from going too far with James, I mused. Satisfied that the ball tapped the back window, I switched off the engine and re-bolted the doors. 

Peace of mind swept through me in the silence that carried as I strode through the front door and into the living room. I found my pain lessening from the morning, the way a burn still tingles after the initial accident but is not as intense as when it first occurs. But I found it difficult to believe that this was the first time James had strayed in a relationship. That alone was enough to tear through my decision making skills and scold all of the signs that I had assumed meant he was trustworthy. 

I usually prided myself in my ability to read people, which just made it all the more sickening that I was wrong about him. Then again, I remembered, Kara had the ability to give the innocent eyes when she wanted something too. So, who is really innocent in a world of hazards? It confused me. 

Confused, you are, but it's not about him, is it? The train of thought in my mind rounded a sharp turn and skipped tracks, jolting onto a tangent. I realized as it did that I did not know how much of it was a man or the fact that I was embarrassed at my own actions with a man who ultimately had been a cheater. Would it have been different if it was sex with one of the single guys I knew from school? Would I have regret then? Having always assured myself of my sexuality, I thought the idea absurd at first, but it still intrigued me. 

Alone with the fact that hours earlier, I was begging a man ten years older than myself to fuck me, I tried to think back to some of the boys I usually showered with at school. Never before had I considered myself uncomfortable with nudity, but the idea of picturing them as they were in the locker room- in various stages of undress- was breeching the walls of my comfort zone. 

I thought of Tyler Preid, whose ass normally got spanked with a towel during our team's showering sessions after practice. He was a scrawny junior who was held back a year, making him one of the only eighteen-year-olds in his class. Despite his five foot five size, I had overhead a few girls chat about the tight buttocks and smooth chest that they saw during meets since he was also on the swim team. I had never given him a second glance, especially naked, but now I tried to force my mind to experiment with the idea that at least a growing part of my regret was due to the fact that it was sex with a man. I laid down on the sofa and tried to think about what it would have been like if it were Tyler in bed with me. 

Try as I did, I couldn't picture it; the picture was distorted by the fact that I had never taken a long, intent gaze at him. Past the face, I managed to imagine the tiny nipples but no lower. Not the definition of the stomach or anything beneath the standard speedos that the swim team wore. Sighing, I took out my phone and checked the time, trying to decide how to proceed. 

11:03 AM. 

Shit... I decided that it was a futile effort and began making my way to my bedroom. As I climbed the carpeted steps in the foyer to the second floor, I shifted my phone from one hand to the other, and, as if by turning on a light in a darkened room, I found clarity. I paused and gazed down at the android in my hand. After entering the pin for the lock screen, I opened Facebook. Tyler and I were friends on Facebook, and he frequently posted various things on it. I started up the stairs again, my eyes focusing on the screen loading in front of me as I typed Tyler's name into the search bar. At the first door on the left, I entered my room, paying no attention to the clutter on my desk and dresser. 

Instead, I stripped off my clothes until I was just in my tight Jockey shorts and plopped myself down onto the ruffled sheets I did not bother making up the last time I got up. I opened the photo section of his page, watching each of his pictures come into focus. My eyes scanned the various stupid photos of him and some of his friends until they found what they were looking for. Tyler Preid had shirtless pictures of himself. Although they were taken at odd angles from one of his friend's pool parties, I examined the chest. It barely had muscle definition, but the prominence of his dime-sized nipples and the flatness of his lower abdomen made up for it. I tried to imagine that grin he wore in the photograph and the details of that chest on top of me, feeling it inside of me. 

Nothing. 

I tried staring at it more, picturing him removing the swim trunks, but it was to no avail. Who else "hot" by female standards? I switched pages until I was on my own, going through my friends list. My eyes stopped when I saw a familiar name- Frank Donaldson. Hurriedly, I opened his page and then his photo section, scanning for more shirtless pictures. I found none, but there were pictures from a prom after-party he attended last night. The photo showed him playing basketball with some of the other members of our team, Frank in the middle of a half-court shot at the time it was taken. Dressed in just a black tank top and a pair of maroon athletic shorts, the shot showed off the power of his arms. 

Just above the waistline of his athletic shorts, the brand Calvin Klein could be clearly read on the waistband of his underwear, a sliver of electric blue under the band before the waistline of the shorts signifying the color of them. The waistband clung to his firm abs, sheltering a trail of hair from further up under his tank top. I tried to picture what I vaguely remembered the rest of his chest looked like, but it was not needed. My cock was already tenting the inside of my shorts, flexing and desperately in need of release. 

Trying to keep the picture clear in my mind, I pulled them down until they hugged my knees. At first, I was not certain how far I should go, but then the need for this moment won the battle over my comfort with the experiment and I found myself with my hand wrapped around my throbbing cock. I recalled how the sweat would glisten off of Frank as he'd strut into the shower, exuding sheer confidence. In my mind, I was there now with him, tracing my index finger from his collarbone down between his pectorals, gently feeling the sweat slicked skin beneath my fingertip. 

I closed my eyes, savoring the moment and beginning to give into pleasure. My hand found a slow, sensual rhythm and teased my dick with the prospect of sexual climax. My body was not that of a straight boy in that moment, giving in to a new experience I would have normally been afraid of pursuing. 

In the fantasy, my finger went lower, Frank stepping towards me until I was forced with no alternative but to take a few steps back. It imagined what the steamy hiss of the showerhead would sound like as Frank's roughened hand reached out to turn it on. I could almost feel the warmth of the water raining down on our naked bodies, his deep brown eyes staring intently into mine. My finger trailed downward still and stopped at the cleft of his belly button where the trail of blonde hair was matted under the steam of the shower. 

I used my thumb to massage my shaft and stroke it, combined with my fingertips of the next three fingers to massage my balls. In a smooth, rocking motion, I could feel the pleasure mounting, but I didn't want it to ever end. Frank was trapping me between his muscular arms under the spray, his short blonde hair now like a mop on his scalp as the water washed down on it. 

"I'm going to fuck you so hard, Dominic, you won't even remember your own name." The mental image was seeming to become all too realistic in my mind, but there was a part of me that didn't want it to stop. It was a piece of myself that knew if I halted the experiment now that I would never have the courage to explore it again. I couldn't have that; since the night with James, I knew deep down that I needed answers more than anything. 

Yet, somehow, I knew that I wanted it. My right hand dropped the phone at my side and took responsibility for stroking my cock as my other hand went from massaging my balls downward. Its fingertips caressed the insides of my thighs, going higher until they made me feel as though they might touch the sensitive skin behind my balls where they met. 

But they did not; I was too nervous. 

I was nervous in the embrace of the straight boy fantasy, but I could not deny the pleasure that came as Frank attacked the side of his neck with his lips. The tongue tingled as it danced up to retreat behind my earlobe, then skated back down again. The sensation was enough to deepen my breath in real life, making me briefly shudder with excitement. I was in uncharted territory, exploring a side of myself that desperately needed what I was too afraid to do myself. 

My left hand continued to explore like a spider of pleasure, searching for a place to make love to. It found the patch of sensitive skin, my index finger massaging it gently as my stroking picked up a little more pace. Before I knew it, my right thumb was rubbing pre-cum around the tip of my dick, making me go insane. 

Frank's assault on me grew even fiercer as he pressed his chest against me. I could feel the tufts of hair kiss my chest hairs, then my nipples as he grinded his hardened dick into me. I was with my back flat against the cold shower wall of tile, powerless to my fantasy's sexuality. I could feel the large seven inch long member stroking my thigh with his movements. My knees grew weak in the explosion of sensitivity, evoking an almost pant-like breathe from me. 

My left hand's fingers traveled on, the index finger tracing down the burrow between my buttocks until it found the forbidden zone I never touched myself. Fear enveloped me in knowing what it would mean at the end of the experiment, but waves of excitement came with it, pleading for me to continue on. My knees rose a little from the tangle of bedsheets as the tip of my finger neared the pucker, as if it were a trespasser uncertain whether it should proceed on private property. 

In the shower, the roughness of the kisses trailed down until the mouth reached my right nipple. But something was different about it now, softer. The tongue was not as demanding but more careful. When the stomach brushed against me the trail of hair seemed to be wider than I remembered. I tried not to care, forcing myself to focus on the pleasure. 

My finger circled the hole, tracing the lines of its pucker. This would be the moment that would decide, once and for all, if there was more than a general acceptance of a male form. Taking another deep breath, I let my index finger tickle it, teasing myself about what I was about to do. 

Frank's chest seemed to lose some definition in my mind. Instead of the hard six pack, it was firm but not overly developed. Covering it, I could feel a drenched mat of hair brushing against me, each tingle from it a gentle kiss. The tongue was still as tender with my nipples as it did when it softened, and around it, I began to feel the scratchiness of stubble. 

It was no longer Frank. 

By that point, I was too far gone to care, rubbing the outside of my asshole with a little more pressure each time. My finger was burrowing with care, making me sigh in the relief of knowing it would soon be securely inside of me. Meanwhile, my cock was flexing, my grip on it finding that it was harder than I ever remembered it being when I masturbated before. The dribble of pre-cum ran freely down the shaft, oozing over the tops of my fingers as it gripped the warm flesh tighter. 

I could feel my stranger's mouth working its way back up my neck. Although I knew who it was before he broke away, my mind was still shocked as it pictured the piercing blue eyes of James Monaco. 

"Whoa, sorry there!" I suddenly found myself broken away from it all at opening my eyes to the awkward face of my father in the doorway of my room. It was clear from the bags under his eyes and the wrinkled pajamas he wore that he was just heading downstairs to start the day. Obvious discomfort showed through the lines of his face as his light green eyes tried to focus on something- anything other than his nearly naked son. 

As soon as I noticed him, my hands instinctively pulled some of my covers over myself. My face was pale with embarrassment at the balding man of fifty two seeing me pleasuring myself. What I knew in my heart I had been about to do before he found me only heightened the feeling as it swept through me. "S-s-sorry," I stammered, unsure of what else I had to say for myself. Panic made my heart pound inside my chest. 

"No, it's cool- perfectly natural..." my Dad trailed off, his 'I wish I could just end this damn conversation' expression on his face as he seemed to try to come up with what to say, "Sorry, I'll give you some privacy." 

Without a word, his head of graying hair turned as fast as I thought it possibly could, one of his hands desperately closing the wooden door. It shut with unintended finality, leaving me to hope that he did not get a good look at exactly what I was doing- or about to do, at least. The last thing I needed was my father thinking that I was a homosexual. 

But as I thought about it, the word echoed in my ears: homosexual. Homo for same, sexual for mating practices; it broke up into two. Then it was replaced by another word: bisexual. Likewise, it split up as well until the pieces no longer seemed realistic. Could I truly be attracted to other men? 

Gazing under the covers, I knew two things for certain. The first was that I was attracted to other guys, or at least some other guys. The second was that I was, without question- regardless of its extent- attracted to something about James Monaco. 




Prom Night Ch. 03



But, unfortunately, James was a happily engaged man. 

To Be Continued...