Foolish Fire (20 page)

Now that I was naked below the waist, and so brazenly exposed, I felt a strange sense of ease, relaxation.

A dim light glinted off the tiny clear bead of liquid shivering on the tip of the glans like a pure tear.

“God, this is embarrassing.”

I started to cover myself with my hand, but Mark gently dissuaded me by blocking it with his own hand: “I wanna see it.”

He gazed calmly at my erection for a long time. It felt good to be able to let him. And then he touched me.

I gave myself up to the shy touch of his fingers, feeling a curious release from inhibition. The sensation of another boy’s hands exploring me with such brazen intimacy made me feel as if I’d relinquished ownership of my own penis. I felt pleasantly lazy, almost drowsy. I thought of the time I’d done it with Bobby, but somehow this was so different. Mark’s slightly damp fingers became more and more sure of themselves; the gentle exploration had become a subtle but rhythmic kneading.

His head was bent down to watch his own fingers manipulating the loose skin softly back and forth. I closed my eyes to better enjoy his fingers’ gentle stroking. And then I felt something different.

It was almost imperceptible at first, so unnoticeable that I had to open my eyes to make sure. His prodding finger which had been delicately spreading the tip-liquid around and around had at some point—exactly when, I would never know—been replaced by his tongue. With him bent over my lap like that, all I could see was the top of his head with its dark hair spiraling out from the crown in a swirl pattern. But there was no mistaking the soft kissing play of his lips along the rim of my glans.

I felt an unbelievable drunken clarity; not wanting to miss a thing, I leaned my head down so that I could relish the sight. As in a dream I saw his half-open mouth in close juxtaposition to my glans. His eyelids looked slack and reptilian. As his lips pouted into a kiss again and descended, I felt a tightness cup the tip of my dick, then widen, flowing around to completely cover the head until I was engulfed in warmth. I closed my eyes as the muscles in my dick contracted in a surge.

A compact tightness, warm and wet, moved slowly down my shaft…down, down, all the way down, until I was engulfed. Then his head moved back up, and coolness returned. For a moment, his head remained balanced at the peak, and then the warmth descended again until I was almost all the way in and I could feel the inside of his cheek. Then it got cool again, and then warm, cool and warm. His head was moving up and down in a gentle bobbing motion. Cool and warm alternated in even strokes. He began rocking his body back and forth with the motion, his cheeks puckering as he sucked. As I watched the visible part of my penis alternately lengthening and shortening, it felt as if it were being dipped rhythmically into a warm bath.

I’m doing it, I thought. I’m finally doing it. I’m getting a blow job. This was what was written on the boys’ room walls, the dirty little secret that was whispered about boys like Mark. Yet I felt a curious lack of excitement at the thought, only a tense worry. I couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was spying on us, and even peered around to make sure we weren’t being watched. The doors were unlocked, I knew. But I also knew I could pull my pants back up at the slightest sign of danger—they were bunched up down around my ankles.

Mark had stopped sucking. His pink tongue now flattened against the underside of my shaft. I felt it slide up my length, its slow tacky progress so discernible along my throbbing vein there. Then, holding my shaft lightly with one hand he ran his tongue down again along its underside until he was snuffling down near the base. I felt the tip of his nose on my balls, and couldn’t suppress a groan as the velvet lap of his tongue crept right up between them. His wet kisses were making my balls tumble and draw up in reaction. Then his soft mobile lips traced a snail’s trail from root to tip like a hungry little fish’s mouth nibbling shyly at proffered bait but not biting. The warm tickle of his tongue played over my glans, nuzzling the underside where it felt best. A tingle shot down from the back of my head all the way to my feet, making me curl and clench my toes. I groaned aloud.

I pulled my shirt off and tossed it aside—any cloth against my skin seemed to deaden the intensity of my pleasure. Mark had returned to his steady, even, almost machine-like bobbing, with his fingers encircling the base of my dick firmly for support.

I had never been bathed in such pleasure before, yet I didn’t dare lose my self-control. A part of me wanted to let go but the other part kept a tight control over my reactions. I wished I could say stop, yet I wanted more, wanted to go to the limit, to the utmost limit.

I can’t come, I told myself, I can’t come. I mustn’t.

And yet I was quickly losing all control. My fear and tenseness were melting away under the mounting laps of pleasure. I groaned again. My fingers went to Mark’s hair, ran through its softness in stroking motions. I no longer peered nervously about for possible eye-witnesses but gave myself up, in total submission to my pleasure.

I knew it was a pleasure that had been experienced by countless other boys before me…Alex…Ron…Dave…and boys whose names I didn’t even know, going all the way back to junior high school, long before the music room episode when I’d almost joined their number, so long ago now. It didn’t seem possible that he’d been so afraid to utter that incriminating phrase….

And then I looked down and saw Mark’s face like a heavy-lidded stranger’s looking bloated and slack with lust, and felt a sudden revulsion, a recoiling as from a creature out of a swamp. He immediately sensed the change in me and stopped what he was doing. He looked up at me.

“What’s the matter, Guy?”

“Nothing.”

“Are you disgusted with me? You’re thinking what a faggot I am, right?”

“It’s not that—” But it was that, undeniably. Instinctively, I glanced at the door. “Did you remember to lock it? Someone could walk right in.”

“You’re right. If it’ll make you any more comfortable, we can go up to my room. Come on.” He picked up his discarded T-shirt and went to the foot of the stairs. He hesitated for a moment and glanced over at me. Then he began to ascend. I watched him disappear up the stairwell. This was my chance to leave if I wanted to. I was free to go. But there was really no decision to make. I did up my jeans again and picked up my T-shirt to join him.

Up in his bedroom, he was standing at the window, having just shut the curtains.

“The lock,” he said.

I locked the bedroom door and sat down on the bed.

He looked over at me. “Well?”

“I guess I’m nervous about all this. It’s not like it happens every day, you know.”

“I wish it did.”

“Listen, Mark. You have to promise me not to tell anyone about this.”

“Are you crazy? Why would I tell? Who do you think has more to lose, you or me, if I tell?”

“It—it’s just that I can’t believe what we’re doing.”

“It happens all the time, Guy. Believe me. You wouldn’t believe the number of straight boys who do it. People just don’t wanna talk about it, that’s all.”

“Really?”

“Of course. Heck, there’s guys you’d never suspect, who asked me to suck them off. And not only that, but—”

“But?”

He looked straight at me. “Fucked me, too.”

The casual way he said it almost made the bottom drop out of my stomach. Just a few weeks ago I wouldn’t have believed such things were possible. I would have put them down to the impossible fantasies of some horny boy.

To my incredible shame, I felt my dick stiffen again. Mark saw the effect his words had had on me. I watched the curious look in his eyes as he watched the mound at my crotch grow.

“How about you, Guy? You wanna fuck me, too?”

“Oh God.” The answer was so obvious that it seemed ridiculous to try to deny it. Yes. I wanted to fuck him. I wanted it more than anything else in the world. I wanted to fuck this boy who was teasing me so.

Still, I hesitated. For this was something far beyond what we’d just been doing. I sensed a boundary line, beyond which I daren’t venture—within whose bounds I was still safely on this side of homosexuality. Technically, I was still a virgin, and as such, neither hetero- nor homosexual. And there was an irrevocable finality about the idea of losing this limbo-like status. I would never afterwards be able to change or erase the moment I stepped across the threshold. If the first time was with a boy, would that brand me forever as a faggot?

And yet didn’t they say homosexuality wasn’t defined by just one act?

In adolescence…there is much curiosity…it is normal for friends of the same sex to indulge in mutual explorations…

Even Ron Holmes, with all his girls, had probably tried it at least once. The number of straight boys…guys you’d never suspect….

Even to consummation….

Mark saw my hesitation. “What’s the matter?” he said softly. There was a faint smile on his face. Outside the window the trees soughed from a sudden, wayward gust of wind and the curtains billowed slightly.

“Well?”

He made to take off his pants, and then, either from shyness or calculated coquetry, turned away from me to step out of them. I couldn’t take my eyes away. This would be the first time I ever saw him naked.

When he turned around he made no effort to hide his own state of arousal. His erection was a little smaller than mine, but almost exactly like it in every other respect.

I felt a sense of relief at seeing him in this condition. He remained standing there, a naughty statue with a beautiful erection. As he noticed me looking at his dick, he twitched it in response, then, smiling devilishly, began pumping himself. I had to giggle.

“Well?” he said. “What are we waiting for?” He came over to the bed with a confident swagger which made me shrivel up inside. “Move over,” he ordered softly.

I made room for him.

He plopped down on the bed, face downward, and at the sight of his bared buttocks, I felt the blood rush to my cheeks.

He said something which was lost in a muffled mumble.

“What?”

“I said: ‘in the drawer’.”

“What is?”

Without turning around, he pointed back to the night table.

I opened the drawer and saw a yellow, half-rolled up tube of KY like the cochlea of a snail. For a moment I was stunned. The KY seemed to stare up at me, the symbol of an irrevocable decision. Mark turned lazily onto his side and held out his hand for it.

I handed it to him and watched as he squeezed out a dab of the translucent jelly. Then he half-turned his body, spread his thighs and reached down between his legs to lubricate himself. The practiced manner with which his finger spread it around in tiny circles, the way it dipped saucily in and out made my stomach flutter.

He handed the tube back to me then snuggled down into the mattress, rumpling the coverlet as he spread his thighs. With his legs fanned out, his butt floated white, while down below, half hidden in shadow, I could see his balls nestled against the mattress.

At this provocative invitation I lost any remaining sense of prudery. Impatiently, I kicked my sneakers off, tossed my socks aside and yanked down my jeans. My briefs were tented out so comically that I was glad Mark couldn’t see my excitement. I slipped them down, and with trembling fingers, applied the KY to myself, carefully rubbing the cool ointment onto my glans until it glistened like a glazed doughnut.

Cocking my knee onto the bed, I knelt between his spread thighs and gazed down, contemplating the smooth curve of his back with its shallow groove down the center. Placing a hand on each buttock, I gently spread the cheeks apart so I could peer at every boy’s most secret spot. Glazed and shiny from its coat of jelly, the tiny puckered mouth looked so innocent and helpless.

Taking my dick in hand I guided it down between the plump buttocks until it rested against the anus. The mere touch of skin on skin was almost enough to send me off. I pinched myself tightly just below the glans to temporarily kill my excitement. Even so, a bit of tip-liquid leaked out, like a drop of lemon juice.

Close call.

Without wasting any more time I leaned over his back to position myself, and in response he spread his thighs slightly more to accommodate me.

Everything was going like dream clockwork. I prayed silently that I could contain myself long enough to fully enjoy the fuck. I guided myself down again, this time for good. I knew exactly where.

I worked myself in between the cheeks, the tip of my dick meeting his hole in a shy kiss. I felt the gluey contact and a resistance…and then the soft give as I gently maneuvered in with the slight corkscrew motions I’d learned from my own anal explorations.

Supporting the weight of my body on both hands now, I leaned slowly in, feeling the continuing give as a smooth creeping pinch. From above I gazed down at the magical, dreamed-of sight of my slowly disappearing length being swallowed in as if ingested by a hungry mouth. In—in!—it went, making a slight crackling sound.

When I was halfway in I could go no farther. I paused to catch my breath. Mark had groaned at first but now lay breathing quietly while I gloried in my buried status. With one part of my mind I knew that despite his grunts of pain he had had a lot of practice in order to relax his muscles like this. And I also knew I wasn’t the first one. Not by a long shot. The thought of all the other boys who had done this to him got me even more excited. I withdrew myself just a little bit for another try, and as I pulled away saw tiny streaks of brown on my glistening pink.