The Evolution of Friendship: A Love Story

My best friend Axel Andrews and I have gone through an incredible evolution. If it wasn't for our love for each other, we probably never would have. I grew up as Jason Catalano and sort of knew who I was, but eventually became who I really am. This is our story.

* * *

I always knew I was different. From a very young age - and well before puberty - it never occurred to me that girls were anything other than friends. Of course, in the 70’s and 80's it wasn't something that kids talked about – other than to make fun. I never came out. I saw how the kids who were thought to be queer were treated and I wanted no part of that. It looked like hell. I was going to just play along. 

There were other feelings that I had. I was born a biological boy and was being raised as a boy. However, I didn’t always feel right though. It was like something was wrong with me that I could never figure out. I really had no one to talk to about it. I just had to do my best to ignore those feelings. Two incidents helped me learn quickly that my feelings were bad - at least that is how I was made to feel. 

The first was at Macy’s. We went to buy me school clothes for my first day of school. When we came up on the escalator, I immediately ran to the girls department. All the clothes there were so fun and colorful. I grabbed a cute little dress off the rack and showed it to my parents. At first they laughed. “Oh Jason, that’s not for you,” they’d say. So, I grabbed something else and pointed at other things in the department. My mother tore the dress right from my hand and yelled, loud enough for everyone nearby to hear, “You are a boy! You don’t wear dresses! Cut this nonsense out NOW” My father just quietly let my mother handle things.  

I was very friendly with the other two girls on the street and preferred to play with them over the boys on the street. The boys were rough. They made fun of me. They called me weak. The girls were sweet and had no problem with me playing house and other girly games. This led to the second incident - my Christmas list one year. I asked Santa for a Barbie VW Camper and an Easy-Bake Oven - toys that my girl friends had. My mother once again lost her patience and yelled at me. She was pretty mean about it. She tore my list to shreds and said there must be something wrong with me. When my father came home from work, he sat down with me, with the Sears catalog, and guided me to the boys toys. He was much nicer about it. He told me that I was a boy and I had to act like one. He helped me pick out a LEGO set and a set of Six Million Dollar Man action figures - including the Bionic Woman. When my mother protested, he told her it was a set and it would teach me proper male and female roles. I learned later in life, Dad was ahead of his time.

What I was feeling was that I wasn’t a boy. I really was a girl, or at least wanted to be one, or even just like one. I repressed every feeling I had about it. I forced myself to not think about it at all. I ignored a real part of who I am until much later in life. It wasn’t until I met people who could see it in me that I started to pay attention to it. 

* * *

As I got to high school I developed some great friendships with the right clique of kids. With me not being one of the 'cool kids', the fact that this group wanted me around and became friends was a lucky development. Even though I probably wanted to sleep with them all, I avoided even hinting that I was gay. They still picked on me since I was more of a preppy nerd than anything as cool as they were. They sometimes teased me for being gay, but never really believed that I actually was. I was always cool with it. 

My entry into this little group was a little skill I had – that they all wanted me to do for them. I was a master at fixing our driver's licenses. We were all born in 1968. I was able to turn that 8 into a 5 making us born in 1965. After some improvements, my work turned out to be perfect. There wasn't a bouncer or bartender who could prove otherwise. Being '21' while you were 18 was a huge enhancement to our social lives. 

There were seven boys in the clique, plus a few girls. I had a crush on each and every one of those boys – to varying degrees, of course. I fantasized about gangbangs, one on ones, anything and everything with those boys. We had lots of occasions to be close and since we were partiers, there were plenty of opportunities. Unfortunately, none of them ever came to be reality. They were, each in their own way, a cute bunch. A few were hotter than the rest, but all of them were attractive and in excellent shape. I was the runt of the litter, if you will. I was super skinny and too tall at 5’11” and just 135 pounds. I had a thick mop of mostly straight hair that I kept cut relatively short. I had fair skin and brown eyes. I always thought I was cute, but never cute enough. My figure was more like a lanky young boy than a well-toned dude. 

I didn't have much of an exciting sex life during high school. I knew of a place where guys cruised and once I got my license I drove over there occasionally. I got and gave mostly blowjobs. I managed to only get fucked twice during that time. Once at the cruising spot by an older dude (he was like 30, but with me being 18, he seemed 'old') who was rough, which I liked (more on that later). The other dude was someone who I met through our little clique. He was the visiting cousin of one of the girls. That guy was actually my first. It was with him that I knew I was a bottom and loved being on the submissive side. I never got to fuck anyone. I think it had a lot to do with my small cock. I was an awe inspiring 5". Not too thick and when it's soft it is almost like it disappears. The small tight balls don't do much either. 

Once high school was over, we spent the entire summer constantly together. We partied our asses off. We drank (and did other things) as if it was the end of the world. The boys and girls had some random hook-ups – with each other and with others. I, of course, tried my best to get what I could and make it seem legit, but I never really did anything at all. A few random, drunken trips to the cruising spot after we had all been out netted me a few more blowjobs. Most of the time I ended up just crashing with some of the others at someone's house.

Eventually, summer came to an end and it was time for everyone to go his or her separate ways. Almost everyone opted for college and ended up out of town. Only Axel and I stayed in town. Neither of us went to college either. In fact, we didn't have any real plans going forward. We spent our entire summer as party boys. Who was thinking about the future? It was going to be just Axel and Jason. This was OK with me.

* * *

Even within the group, Axel and I were the closest. We were best friends for sure. We liked a lot of the same things – the same movies, the same music, the same beer, the same liquor, the same drugs. We were also two of four of us in the group that had money and plenty of it. Axel's dad was an airline executive and traveled almost all the time. His mom had moved out ages ago and his older brothers were all out of the house too. Axel was frequently the only one at his house, which is why we tended to hang out there most of the time. My dad was a big time retail executive and also wasn't around a lot. I really didn't get along with the rest of my family. The idea that I was never home never seemed to matter to my mom or anyone else in the house. It was like no one noticed me missing.

With everyone gone, Axel and I intensified our partying. We went out pretty much every night. With no jobs to worry about, no one keeping tabs on us, and plenty of cash to burn, we were tearing it up non-stop. We started our days with coke, ended them with pot and did a lot of things in between. We were completely inseparable. 

Our relationship really blossomed during this time. We did everything together and were very comfortable around each other. It was obvious to me that Axel was straight. I wasn't going to come out to him at all. He never really said anything anti-gay, but I never felt like he liked them either. 

Some things just kind of fell into place over time and became routine for us. I liked to cook, so I often took care of that for both of us. I didn't mind taking care of other chores too. I did our laundry and kept the place neat and clean. Axel always offered to help, but I usually just did it myself. I really liked doing it. I loved looking over into the living room and seeing him chill out on the couch watching TV. For me, this felt like more than just a friendship. It felt like we were together, so I just pretended we were. 

The comfort level was so high that Axel would strip down to nothing and go off to shower. He'd shower and then walk back to his room naked. He'd wander around looking for something to wear. Sometimes he'd ask for my input and almost always took my recommendations. I loved watching him parade around naked. He had the perfect body. Six foot two well sculpted, toned, and solid – super sexy with an amazing smile. He had long, sometimes beyond his shoulder, blondish brown hair and was otherwise smooth all over, except for a neat patch over his cock and a nice covering of hair on his legs. He eventually would have a few tattoos. His ass was just perfect, his cock, even more so. It was huge. I mean, really fucking huge. When he was soft it dangled between his legs to the tune of seven or eight inches. Even soft, it was pretty thick too. I couldn’t begin to imagine how big it got when it was hard. His balls were like the size of golf balls and hung low. I salivated at him all the time. I'm not sure he was wise to my attention and what I was thinking.

We acted a lot like brothers. We slept in the same bed. It was a full bed in his room that was pushed up against the wall. When we slept there, I always had the spot against the wall, which meant Axel would end up close to me, or even on top of me pressing me against the wall, during the night. I never complained. When we'd come home from the bars, we'd hang out on the couch in his living room. We sat right next to each other, despite the fact that the couch was huge and there were other places to sit. Many nights would find us passed out on that couch. Often, we'd be passed out together, almost cuddling. I was usually the one leaning on him. He never seemed to care. We were bros. We did that kind of thing. It meant nothing between two straight guys, right? Not that he knew this, but it was a huge deal for me.

This is where things begin to get more interesting.

Thank you for reading my latest story. Please let me know what you think in the comments or by email.