by Willard, Guy
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 d
own 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.
I leaned in again, a little harder and firmer this time, and closed my eyes to savor the feel of the soft, delicious sink, concentrating on the tight ring-like pinch descending my shaft. His butthole, like a tiny mouth, gripped me the entire way in, in, all the way in, and I thought how perfectly nature had fitted that part of a boy for this wonderful game.
Mark lay quietly beneath me, his head turned to one side, exposing his cheek. For a fleeting moment I wondered how it would feel to put my lips there. My nose was inches away from the back of his head and I could smell his shampoo like an enticing perfume. My breaths ruffled his hair, tickling and pinking his ear. I wished I could stay like this forever.
But the feeling of being inside a boy, all this wealth of bare skin on skin, its sweaty rub, its delicious perversion—was just too much for me.
Leaning low over his back I placed my hands on either side of his shoulders and gave myself up to a steady humping—just as I’d humped my pillow. Listening to the slapping sound of skin on skin, I felt a delicious sensation run from the base of my balls to my own butthole.
To my surprise I soon began to feel a responsive heaving beneath me. The undulations of his hips were producing an unmistakable counter-thrust to meet mine. Again, I thought of all the other boys he’d fucked. He knew how to get the most pleasure out of it.
From my own anal masturbations, I could easily imagine what he was feeling now. I stopped thrusting for a moment and turned both our bodies aside a little so I could see his penis.
It was erect and straining.
A drunken lightheadedness came over me at the sight, a volitionless freedom, as though I were being carried upon the crest of a wave.
Keeping our bodies half-turned like that so I could continue gazing at his dick, I picked up my speed, shifting into a faster trot, goaded and stung into fury by the saucy upwards bumps of his butt, by his greedy desire to be filled and filled and filled again. In and in, harder and harder—I wanted to go all the way in, up to where the shit came from, shoved in so deep I couldn’t go any farther.
The steady creaking of the bedsprings seemed distant and unrelated to what we were doing.
I knew the coming orgasm would be the climax of my life…nothing in the world would ever feel as good.
Mark began giving out little feminine grunts as I felt his butthole tighten even more around my dick. Gasping, I threw my head back and bit my lower lip hard as I pumped my pelvis in, deeply, again, again, again, and weak-kneed, felt myself begin to give.
I was coming….
“Oh!”
I came, ejaculating deep into his body, my insides wracked by successive waves of pleasure which reached outward to the farthest corners of my being.
Drained and almost sobbing, I sank exhausted onto his back, wishing I could sink down forever and ever and disappear. My heart was pounding, and my open mouth gasping for air.
I was still hard inside him, and could feel his sphincter pinching me spasmodically. I remembered the times I’d masturbated myself anally with a banana, a wine bottle, a brush handle, and knew exactly what he was feeling. And I knew how to make it good for him.
Slowly, as slowly as I could, I inched myself out of him, making the good feeling last for him. I could almost feel his pleasure at the withdrawal, the best part after what he’d just been through. I felt his sphincter pinch me in acknowledgement.
And then I was almost all the way out…Mark made a funny strangling noise in his throat just as my dick was squeezed out with a peristaltic push. I heard him gasp and leaned over to watch tiny white droplets spraying out from his dick all over the mattress. I thought it would never end.
Finally he sank down onto the sheet, on top of his cum.
I too, sank down again, rolling off and away from his back, feeling the sticky sheet at my back. We both lay breathing heavily like runners after a race. The sound of our breathing seemed to fill the entire world.
I thought of Jack telling me long ago in the hallway, in junior high: “They like to take it up the ass.” It seemed so long ago. And now I had done it. Actually done it.
And then it hit me: I wasn’t a virgin anymore. I’d just fucked Mark Warren in the ass, and I was a man now. Somehow it didn’t seem real. I didn’t feel any different.
Next to me Mark stirred, and when I turned my head, found I was gazing straight into his eyes.
He let out a long sigh, then gave a low throaty giggle. “Why didn’t you tell me?” he said.
“Tell you what?” A chill crept down my spine.
“You knew exactly what you were doing, didn’t you? You knew how to make it good for me. You can’t tell me that’s the first time you did it. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“But that was the first time I did it. I swear it!”
“Oh, Guy….”
I hated the insinuating, almost derisive tone of his voice, and knew now that I shouldn’t have given in to a moment of weakness, shouldn’t have allowed my momentary lapse, shouldn’t, in fact, have come to his house at all. But it was too late to regret it now. Much too late.
“It’s not what you think,” I managed to say.
“Oh? Then welcome to the club.”
“What club?”
“Those of us who are unsure of our sexual orientation,” he said, as if reciting from a text. He lay on his side curled up, his head pillowed on his hand in regal languor, and he regarded me with a curious and thoughtful expression.
A buzzing sound came to my ears.
I shot up to my feet. “What are you trying to imply?” I felt nothing but a cold, hatchet-like hatred for him now.
“Nothing.”
“Y
es you are, too! You’re calling me a faggot.”
We regarded each other with hard, blank faces. Then I reached for my briefs and thrust my legs through the leg-holes, pulled them on.
He suddenly sat up and became placating. “Where are you going, Guy? Please don’t leave just yet. Why do they all want to leave as soon as it’s over? Don’t make me feel like shit.”
“Listen. I only did it ’cause you asked me to. I’m not like you.”
He caught at his breath as if he’d been stabbed. “You wanna know something, Willard? You’re all the same. All of you. You want it so bad, and when you get it, you just throw me away. Then you slander my name around. It makes you feel so tough, doesn’t it?”
“Fuck you, Mark.”
“You just did, remember?” He grimaced and turned his face away in angry shame as I pulled on my jeans. And then he whispered again: “You just did.”
I didn’t know what to say.
There was only one thing for me to do: leave. As quickly as possible. I somehow got my socks and sneakers on, and wriggled into my T-shirt, wishing I could do it faster. He sat on the bed, still looking down at the sheets.
Without looking back, I walked to the door, unlocked it, and stepped out into the hallway, feeling as if I were fleeing the scene of a crime.
Only when I was back in my car did I feel safe again. The world outside looked as it always did, no changes, no danger. As I started up the engine, I thought again about what I’d just done with Mark and felt another erection coming on.
Paper Balls
It really should have been Wendy all along, from the start. I’d wasted my time with the other girls. I really had.
“You like it?” I said.
“Mm.”
We were in the living room of Wendy’s house and there was no one else home. All the lights were turned out and the television was on without any sound. We were on the sofa and my hands were up under her sweater. Her face looked flushed.