by Jason June
“Oh, it’s stupid. Vic likes to keep track of . . .” Tony’s eyes wandered while he thought. “My visitors.”
Visitors. Meaning hookups. “So, I’m number thirteen.”
“Does that make you uncomfortable?” Tony asked. “I thought we were both here for a good time.” His eyes roved down my body. When they got closer to my waist, I could practically see his visions of pulling my pants off. Everything about his demeanor—from that damn smirk to the way he’d applied just the right amount of inner thigh pressure to drive me bananas—told me he knew exactly what to do when he finally ripped them from my legs. Maybe me being his thirteenth visitor just meant he was practiced and would make the night epic.
“Lucky number thirteen,” I said.
Tony laughed with a rasp and swung the door open, revealing a space that was not nearly as sexy as I thought it’d be. Two twin beds were shoved against opposite walls, a small chest of drawers at the foot of each. Crammed between the beds were two desks covered with textbooks, laptops, the paraphernalia of college students. The left side of the room was covered with posters of European soccer teams. The right side had a bunch of black-and-white photographs, a man’s washed-out silhouette in all of them. When I looked closer, I realized the guy in each picture was . . . Tony.
Tony followed my gaze to the photos. “I took them myself,” he said.
For the briefest second I thought it was a little weird to have multiple pictures of yourself hung over your bed. But then I remembered I was standing next to said bed belonging to a college guy who I knew wanted to have sex with me, so I said, “They’re good.” And they were, too. Tony was shirtless in a few, putting the bulge of his pecs and the slight ripple of his abs on display. I had to see those ripples in real life.
“Thanks.” Tony lowered the blinds. “It’s about the beauty of the male form.”
Sure, that was narcissistic, but his form was beautiful, so he made a very good point.
Tony sat on his bed, his photo selves peering down at him with smoldering eyes. “So. What do you think?”
“Your room’s nice.”
“No,” Tony said, smirking. “About us. I want to do this.” He stroked the bed next to him. “Do you?”
Ohmigawd, YES!
I moved to his bed so fast that I tripped over my feet. When I plopped next to Tony, the mattress springs sent both of us bobbing up and down. I was like a little kid bouncing on the bed! I did not need Tony to look at me and think clumsy toddler just before he was about to swipe my V-card!
“Sorry, I—”
Tony took my face in his hands and kissed me, clearly unbothered by my clumsiness. He parted my mouth with his tongue, and I was instantly on fire. He used his tongue a lot, but in this way that wasn’t slimy or wet, just controlled and purposeful. It made me imagine what his tongue would be like on every other part of my body.
PLACES WHERE TONY COULD PUT HIS TONGUE RIGHT NOW
1.My neck (And if it resulted in a hickey, so be it.)
2.My ear (I saw that on the internet once and it seemed to make the porn star go wild.)
3.My . . . ahem (You know what I mean.)
Without thinking, I moved my hands under Tony’s shirt. His abs tightened as my fingers touched his stomach. I had to see what that picture-perfect torso looked like firsthand, so I grabbed the hem of Tony’s shirt and pulled it over his head.
But of course, as I pulled his shirt up, it got caught under his armpits. I tugged and tugged, trying to get his arms to slide out of the sleeves and the shirt over his head.
It didn’t work. All that happened was his tag popped out.
“Stop pulling!” Tony’s voice was muffled under the 100 percent cotton.
I snatched my hands back. “Sorry.”
Tony twisted his arms so they untangled from his sleeves, then seamlessly pulled his shirt off. How did he have such control over his body? “It’s okay,” he said.
It was more than okay. I was sitting on a bed with a shirtless boy.
Tony ran his fingers through his tousled hair, giving me time to take in every inch of his exposed skin. He looked perfect. Toned, tan, and with just the right amount of hair. It was on his chest, leading to the sexiest dip in between his pecs. He also had the smallest tuft of dark fuzz that trailed from just under his belly button to below the waist of his jeans. I wanted to kiss that tuft all. The. Way. Down.
Tony leaned back onto his pillows and swung his legs onto the bed. A plethora of positions flew through my mind. Should I straddle him? I really wanted to straddle him, wanted to know what it felt like to feel him beneath me.
Tony gave me that smirk. “Don’t leave me hanging.”
I swung my leg up, thinking it could go over his body and I could sit down on his crotch. But my knee landed hard on his left thigh, then slid down to the mattress just centimeters away from smashing the first penis I was ever going to see in real life!
“Shit!” Tony jolted up and rubbed the spot where my knee had jammed his leg.
“Ohmigawd, I’m so sorry! Are you hurt? Is there a bruise?” Why was my initial response to sound just like my mom when I tripped playing T-ball in the first grade?
I moved to put my hand on his leg, but Tony grabbed it. “No. It’s fine.” He took a deep breath. “You’ve never done this before, right?”
Max’s advice echoed in my head. He’d told me not to let it spill that I was a virgin, but also to agree with whatever Tony said. This was way too much conflicting information in a very critical moment.
I was taking way too long to answer, so I finally said, “I guess it’s pretty obvious.” I couldn’t make eye contact. I didn’t want to see Tony’s face fall or the pity in his eyes when he told me he didn’t want the pressure of being someone’s first.
“Hey.” Tony gently took my chin in his hand and tilted my face toward his. “It’s okay. We were all there once.” He leaned forward and kissed me, using his tongue to caress my upper lip. “I can help. If you still want to do this.”
I swallowed and nodded.
“Good,” Tony said. “Let’s try this again.”
He kissed me once more, long and hard and scruff-filled, until the memory of nearly crushing his junk was washed away. Then he put both hands under my butt, lifted me up, leaned back on his pillows, and sat me down on top of him. It was like the hottest Dancing with the Stars move ever. I realized if I became famous for any reason and got on the show, I’d want to be the dance partner being led. It was so sexy when someone took the lead, when they showed you where they wanted you and did it all without a single hitch.
I was sitting down right over Tony’s crotch. I could feel him beneath me, just as hard as I was. Knowing that I could make someone’s body react like that sent a wave of pleasure washing over me. I felt powerful, I felt wanted, I felt unlocked. I had been waiting eighteen years for this moment, single and alone, and it was more than I’d ever imagined. I suddenly felt a connection to Tony that I had never felt before, a shared responsibility to bond our bodies and connect through every nerve ending inside them.
I leaned down and kissed Tony’s neck. Gawd, he smelled so good. He didn’t even wear any cologne, just the smell of his skin alone made me want to taste him. So I did. I ran my tongue against his neck. Tony moaned, and that thrill of knowing I was making him feel good surged through me again. It made me kiss him harder, deeper, I needed more, more, more. I moved down to see what it felt like for his chest hair to tickle my nose and chin.
It. Was. Everything.
Tony reached down, and before I knew it, my shirt was gone (of course he was able to take mine off in one fluid, sexy movement) and our bodies pressed together. We were both sweaty, but it wasn’t gross like someone hugging you after working out. It was so hot.
A jingle caught my attention. I peeked down to see Tony removing his belt. Unbuttoning his jeans. Hooking his thumb under his pants and red boxer briefs at once so he could remove them both in one go. My heart raced and completely stop
ped all at the same time.
Tony tossed his clothes to the floor and he sprang up in the best millisecond of my life. Number seven was gone. Penis, IRL. Officially stricken from the Agenda forever as I stared at the best view I’d ever seen. He was beautiful. I couldn’t stop my hands from flying in between his legs.
“Unhh.” Tony’s moan was the sexiest sound I had ever heard.
He kissed me while I held on to him, but my whole body ached to put my mouth somewhere else. Tony ran his fingers through my hair, then gently took my face in his hands to pull our lips just centimeters apart. “Do whatever you want,” he whispered. It was like he could read my mind.
I lifted my body, using the hand that was still on Tony’s you-know-what a little too much to give myself a boost.
Tony shot forward. “Careful!”
“Sorry!” I let go, but with both my hands in the air unable to hold myself up, my head fell onto Tony’s chest. He laughed softly, then moved my hands on either side of him so I could steady myself against the mattress.
“Try again,” Tony said.
I braced myself against the bed, then kissed all the way down Tony’s chest. I kissed through his chest hair, down to his belly button, and into that tuft at his waist. I looked up and Tony was watching me, smirking. He gave a slight nod.
I kissed all the way down until I was face-to-package. This was really about to go down. It was finally time to do all those fun things I’d imagined happening in item number seven.
I went for it.
At first, I wasn’t sure what to do with my hands, so I thought back to the kerbillion porn clips I’d seen on the internet (and yes, that’s a technical number when talking porn viewing stats). No matter where I put my hands, it didn’t feel natural. I probably looked like one of those car dealership air guys the way my hands kept moving back and forth into different positions.
Tony grabbed my head and pulled me up. “Stop, stop, stop!”
Oh gawd, I had completely messed up.
I launched myself forward, the mattress bouncing again when I landed next to him. “Is everything okay? Did I do something wrong?”
Tony gave one of his scratchy chuckles and reached over to rifle through a drawer in his desk. “Nothing is wrong.” He lifted his hand, a condom between his fingers. “I just didn’t want to finish yet.”
I had almost made him finish. I felt a surge of pride again that was nearly as satisfying as everything else we were doing.
Tony took the corner of the condom wrapper between his teeth and tore it open. “There’s something else we could try. If you wanted to take off your clothes.”
He grabbed himself and rolled the condom on while I unzipped my jeans and tugged them off. I hooked my finger under the waist of my plaid boxers, took a deep breath, and off they went.
I was naked with another guy.
I WAS NAKED WITH ANOTHER GUY.
Tony’s eyes roamed all over me. “Looks like you’re ready,” he said, his gaze locked between my legs.
There were so many things going on inside my body: nervousness that this was actually happening, relief that I wasn’t going to die a virgin, more nervousness, my heart soaring that a VSB actually wanted to do this with me, but most of all, one particular part of me was screaming, YES! YES! YES! YES! YES!
Outwardly, all I could do was nod.
Tony got on his knees. “Bend over.”
Yeah, being led was definitely the sexiest thing ever. I rushed to all fours.
Tony reached back into his desk drawer and pulled out a bottle of lube. The squirt and swish as Tony rubbed it on himself sounded a lot like when you put condiments on a hamburger. I would never be able to eat one again without having a raging boner.
Tony put his slightly lube-y hand on my waist and pulled me toward him.
I once deep dove into virginity stats, and I saw this Reddit post that said four people lose their virginity every second. One second was all it took. One second I was a virgin, and in the very next, just the right amount of time for Tony to push into me, I wasn’t. In the millisecond leading up to that moment, all those emotions I was feeling before raged inside me a thousand times heavier. Scared, nervous, excited, hard, but so fracking ready. Then, in that next moment, feeling pleasure, pain, so many things, one thought stood out the most: I was so happy to be one of those four people.
JAY’S GAY AGENDA
1.Meet another gay kid. Somewhere, anywhere . . . please! in Seattle in, like, days!
1.5.Get checked out by a very VSB!
2.Go on any Digimals video game date with Albert a boy at the Space Needle and learn just how much game Albert’s really got.
2.5.Hold hands within the first ninety minutes a VSB after being pulled into my first-ever drag show by a queen named after a fish.
3.Go to a dDance with a boy and have my first kiss slow dancing to Shawn Mendes while getting caught in a surprise Seattle downpour.
4.Have a boyfriend, one who likes to wrap me up in his arms and let me be little spoon, and maybe smells tastes like coffee from all the cafés he goes to spearmint, and who ignites my soul and my sexuality.
5.Fall in love with a boy, but wait for him to say it first so I don’t seem too desperate, and maybe he says it for the first time at Pike Place Market or in the first Starbucks.
6.Make out with Albert, or Tony, or, you know, any guy who keeps himself in my personal bubble, with tongue, and hard enough that I’d get a little burn from his stubble. run my fingers along that perfect jawline. the hottest snowman this side of the North Pole.
7.See another Tony’s penis besides my own, IRL, and do fun things with it!
8.Lose. My. Virginity!
9.Become part of a super-queer, super-tight framily by impressing everybody with my epic costumier skills, erasing the “new kid” label, and becoming homecoming royalty.
10.Figure out a way to make my gay dreams come true and not destroy my bestie’s life.
20.
Be the Butt of the Joke
I rang Max’s doorbell the next morning, bouncing on the balls of my feet. I had to tell someone about my night. I’d always pictured Lu being the one I told first about this, but since my sexcapade with Tony would reveal that Albert technically wasn’t my boyfriend yet, it had to be Max. I’d texted him right when I woke up, and he’d invited me over for “breakfast and tea spilling.”
Max answered the door in a dusty-pink silk robe. Wasting no time, he pulled me inside and pushed me down on his living room couch. “Lord and Taylor, tell me everything. Did you . . .” He paused, peering toward the kitchen where someone, presumably his parents, was making breakfast, based on the smell of bacon wafting through the house. He turned up the volume on CNN, Fareed Zakaria blaring as Max sat next to me and leaned in. “Did you have sex?”
I nodded, completely unable to stop the smile that spread across my lips.
“OMFG!” Max squealed. “O. M. F. G!”
“I know,” I said. “I just . . . I feel so different. But in a good way. In the best way.”
Max did that excited little kid pose it seemed like every photographer put toddlers in for family pictures: elbows on knees with his face in his hands. “What was it like?”
His question caught me off guard. “Wait. Haven’t you . . . ?” Fareed’s voice filled my silence, his report on overdue volcanic eruptions surprisingly complementary to previously overdue eruptions of my own. “You’ve had sex before, right?” I’d just assumed. He was my Gay Guide and held himself with so much confidence that I figured he’d caught the train to SexTown long before I had.
Max tugged on one of his robe sleeves. “Not exactly. I mean, I’ve done things,” he said, giving me a very pointed look, “but I haven’t gone all the way. It’s just confusing for me sometimes. I get into my head about what people expect of me if my body doesn’t match my typically feminine presentation.”
A flare of anger barreled into my chest. “Wait. Did Reese ever—”
“Oh no, it
was never him,” Max said. “He was actually always so understanding and patient when it came to sex. It’s really more society at large. I know I’m this fashionable fierce femme entity, but I’d be lying if I said sometimes people’s stares didn’t get to me. Even if they don’t say it, I can hear the word freak running through their minds. And that doesn’t always make me feel so sexy. And, maybe this is an overshare, but sometimes I have serious questions about what’s going on down there. Genitals-wise. Sometimes I relate to it, other times I don’t. It’s just never felt right to do everything yet, you know?”
I got it. I wouldn’t feel so ecstatic if my whole body hadn’t been super-duper clear that it was All Systems Go on Going All the Way. “Don’t rush it,” I said. “I mean, it’s great. Really, really, really great, but only when you’re ready. And for the record, you are fashionable, fierce, and femme, and any person you choose to share your body with is lucky to be with you.”
“You’re the sweetest.” Max got back into his elbows-on-knees, hands-on-face, tell me everything pose. “So, what was it like?”
I never thought I’d be the one to tell somebody what it was like to have sex. It always felt like everyone else already knew. But there was some extra monumental-ness to this moment by describing gay sex to another gay person. Like we were in this weird, sex-crazed world together as people standing on the sidelines and figuring it out. It felt nice to reverse roles and be the Gay Guide for once.
“Well, it hurt,” I said, then rushed to clarify. “At first. And like, then I got used to it and it felt good. Really good. But while still hurting a little bit. Like, it hurt a little but in an extremely pleasurable way. Does that make sense?”
Max chewed his cheek while tapping his finger against his chin. “Mmm. Like those self-flagellating priests.”
“Uh, what?” I’d watched a lot of porn, but that was one kink I hadn’t heard of.
“The priests who whip themselves,” Max explained. “They do it because it puts them into this spiritual euphoria. Pain turning into ecstasy.”