Connor & Eric: First & Forever Lovers

CHAPTER 1

My name is Connor Johnson, and I am 18 years old. I live in a mid-sized city in the Southeastern United States. I graduated from high school just a week ago and come from a middle-class family. My dad works as a construction contractor, my mom works part-time at the public library, and I have a younger sister who is still in school. Currently, I have an entry-level job in an accounting office, which is helping me save for college and buy a car. I’m a Capricorn, and while I may seem shy at first, I actually have a wild side and a corny, irreverent sense of humor that I only share with people I am comfortable with.

By the way, I'm gay.

I’ve been attracted to men for as long as I can remember.

Did I want to be gay? No. I knew of the challenges and issues that accompanied it. I already faced enough difficulties with “being different” at school, and I certainly didn’t need any more. I’ll elaborate on this later. So, I tried to ignore that part of myself, convincing myself that it might just be a phase.

But here I was, now 18, on a Saturday afternoon, picking up my regular comics. My gaydar was worthless, and I couldn’t tell whether or not a guy was attracted to me. I had considered using an Ouija board for guidance, but I figured that would only complicate things. Just picture me asking a guy to "wait here" while I rushed to the next aisle to conduct a session with the board. With my luck, it would probably spell out, "A-N-S-W-E-R U-N-C-L-E-A-R. A-S-K A-G-A-I-N L-A-T-E-R!"

 I've matured significantly and gained confidence in my appearance. I now stand six feet tall and am lean, rather than being skinny. I have begun to fill out, mainly in my long legs, which are well-toned with shapely calves, defined ankles, and strong thighs. My legs are also covered with dark brown hair—just enough that Goldilocks would likely say it's "just right." I believe my legs are my best feature, so I often wear snug, six-inch inseam shorts to highlight them and accentuate my bubble butt. I pair the shorts with ankle-high socks and wear size 12 sneakers.

My body can best be described as "wiry." Although I don't have prominent muscles, my shoulders and upper arms are distinctly toned. My chest is well-defined, and my nipples tend to react to the slightest cold, becoming visible even under the loosest t-shirts. I consider my nipples my second-best feature. I have a V-shaped back and chest that tapers down to a narrow waist. My fingers are long, reminiscent of a pianist, and my sinewy forearms sport a modest amount of light hair.

I still have a baby face, but I now wear contact lenses. My fair skin shows the slightest hint of a five o'clock shadow, which helps me appear a bit older. There is a small, light birthmark on my neck, under my left jawline, and an even less noticeable one on my right cheek. I have full, almost sensuous lips, straight teeth (thanks to the braces), and dimples on my cheeks that become visible when I smile. I think my small, short, slightly upturned nose—often referred to as a button nose—is kind of cute. Combined with my green eyes and dimples, they project youthfulness, innocence, and charm. At least, that's what David says. But he warns me that when I do meet a guy, they might be startled by my wild side. Modesty prevents me from agreeing or disagreeing with his opinion; I’ll let a boyfriend decide how wild I can be!

One aspect of my appearance that I dislike is my fine, straight brown hair, which is receding at the sides above my temples. This makes my forehead appear wide. The hairline in the center remains normal, so I try to style it with a little "flip" to draw attention away from my forehead and hairline. However, even with hairspray, windy conditions often leave me looking like a cartoon character.

CHAPTER 2

On this Saturday at the comic shop, I picked up my subscribed comics from the hold desk and began browsing the long wall of “New Arrivals”. As I knelt down to examine the bottom shelf, I heard a man’s voice exclaim, “You like ‘Howard the Duck’ too!” referring to one of the comics in my hands.

Not looking up, I responded, "Yeah, it's not as good as the biting social commentary of the original series..."

"...but no one can top Steve Gerber’s writing," he finished for me.

"Or the artwork of Frank Brunner and Gene Colan," I added. "This new artist is talented, but Howard looks like..."

"...a goose," he interrupted, and we both laughed.

As I turned my head and began to stand up, I caught sight of a pair of big feet wearing black tennis shoes. He wore relaxed-fitting blue jeans with a medium-sized waist. A familiar flutter of butterflies stirred in my stomach as I became aware of the man’s large, masculine hands and long, thick fingers. His well-defined forearms were covered in a generous amount of dark hair, leading to hefty biceps. He sported a loose-fitting black t-shirt which hugged his well-developed deltoid and trapezius muscles. In short, he had very broad shoulders! He had a wide chest, but the t-shirt didn’t strain against it. He had a natural, well-built physique. He stood around six feet tall, maybe a little taller than me, and appeared to be about 30 years old.

When I saw the man's face, the butterflies in my stomach were replaced by a warm, fuzzy sensation all over. He possessed a masculine appearance, with a well-defined jawline, a slightly prominent nose, and a wide forehead. His small, round chin had a dimple, with a light scar beneath it. Two more dimples on his cheeks became visible when he smiled—a smile that often carried a mischievous quality. He hadn’t shaved that morning, revealing dark stubble with a few gray hairs on his chin. Although his face was starting to soften with age, I found him incredibly handsome.

He wore black, wide-rim plastic glasses that looked nerdy on me at age 13 but cool on him. Behind those glasses shone the most beautiful brown eyes I had ever seen. They sparkled with warmth when he smiled and looked attentive during conversation. He had black, wavy hair, cut neatly in a professional style. Unlike me, he had no problem with a receding hairline. But what really caught my attention were his large ears, which stuck out from the sides of his head. On some guys, that might look goofy, but on him, they were absolutely adorable!

In summary, he was both handsome and cute. He didn’t resemble a male model or a soap opera star; his attractiveness shone through the imperfections of his face, as did the character he displayed. I hoped I wasn’t drooling.

“My name is Eric,” he said, extending his right hand for me to shake.

After a short bout of speechlessness, I managed to reply, “I’m Connor. Nice to meet you.”

As I reached out my right hand, I realized it was full of comic books. Awkwardly, I shifted them to my left hand so I could shake hands. Eric had a strong grip, and I made sure my shake was equally firm so he wouldn’t think me a “wuss.”

“Oh, lord,” I thought, “I’m making a complete fool of myself!”

Eric commented on several comic titles I subscribed to and then showed me his selection. We shared a lot in common. The comic geek in me emerged from hiding, and my awkwardness faded as I began discussing those comics. Before long, I totally forgot my nervousness about his appearance and enjoyed our conversation.

We ended up walking down the "New Arrivals" aisle, commenting on various titles. We shared our likes and dislikes, talked about the writers and artists, and delved into the history behind the books. Eric had a very animated face. I loved the goofy expressions he made over silly topics while maintaining a serious demeanor about other matters.

Eric and I not only shared similar interests, but our sense of humor was also very aligned. He picked up a Magic 8 Ball from the toy section and, looking comically alarmed, said, “The message is: ‘Your hands are cold. Please put me down.’” I laughed so hard that I thought someone might call 911. We kept each other laughing with silly comments and corny jokes.

Finally, Eric said, “Well, I have to get going.” He then asked, “Do you generally come here around this time on Saturdays?”

My shyness crept back in, and I choked out a “Yes.”

“I mostly stop by here on my way home from work on Wednesdays,” he explained. “But I might try coming on Saturdays instead. Maybe I’ll see you next week.”

“Sure,” I replied, hoping I wasn’t showing too much eagerness.

I raised my hand in a half-wave and looked at him as he strolled to the checkout to buy his comics. He appeared familiar with the owner. I had been coming to this store for five years, but because of my shyness, I never got to know any of the staff. As Eric left, another guy walked in. They exchanged friendly greetings and chatted for a few minutes.

As usual, my gaydar didn’t pick up anything when it came to Eric. I found him very attractive—sexy, even—but he hadn't said or done anything to suggest that he wasn't straight. In fact, while listening to him talk to the shop owner and the other customer, I heard him say, "I'll be sure to tell her you said hi," which made me think he had a woman in his life. Yes, I know that old saying, “making assumptions makes an ass out of you and me.”

Eric was a genuinely outgoing person who could walk into a place he had never been before and leave with a new friend, such as me. He was legitimately charming, friendly, and self-effacing. I enjoyed the time we spent together. Similar to many of my interactions with older individuals, there didn’t appear to be a significant age difference between us in terms of our interests and knowledge. We understood each other’s jokes, even when some referenced outdated subjects. Unhappily, it looked like he was straight.

During the bus ride home, I couldn’t shake thoughts of the fun I’d had with Eric and how attracted I was towards him. I kept reminding myself to stop; he’s straight, and I shouldn’t be having any romantic thoughts about a straight man, it would lead nowhere.

The memories of the afternoon and my internal conflict stayed with me throughout the day and into dinner. When I went to bed, I surrendered to my erotic thoughts and masturbated while imagining Eric. In my mind, we kissed instead of shaking hands. I imagined us engaging in wild, uninhibited sex in the aisle of the comic shop. My fantasy was reminiscent of a scene from a gay porn DVD. I imagined him first with a hairy chest and then with a smooth one. An enormous, thick dick, then a long, narrow one. I pictured us engaging in every position I knew and rapidly reached a peak of pleasure and cummed. Oh boy, did I cum!

Shots of cum splattered across my pubic area; the trail of dark hairs running up to my navel; over my six-pack stomach; the light dusting of hair at the center of my smooth chest; onto my face, as well as the pillow and headboard above. I don't think I've ever experienced such a powerful orgasm before. As I returned to reality, I realized I had a lot of cleaning up to do to ensure my parents wouldn't spot the mess.

I slept peacefully, waking up once with my arms and legs wrapped around my pillow as if a person was in bed with me. By morning—and for the rest of the week—my hormones were back in balance. I thought of the enjoyable time spent making a new friend. I no longer thought of Eric erotically. I suppose I had gotten everything out of my system, I thought humorously. Out of my system and on my pubic area: the trail of dark hairs running up to my navel, my six-pack stomach, the light dusting of hair at the center of my smooth chest, on my face, my pillow, and the headboard above! LOL.

CHAPTER 3

Saturday arrived, and I stood in front of the mirror, trying on different t-shirts in my quest to make a good impression on Eric. After several attempts, I settled on a black shirt featuring the original Star Trek cast. However, no matter how much hairspray I applied, the front lock of my hair stubbornly refused to lie flat. Frustrated, I realized I was running out of time to catch the bus. My hair would have to do.

As I rode the bus to the comic shop, anxiety built as I wondered if Eric would be there. After picking up my pulled comics, I headed to the “New Arrivals” wall, but he wasn’t around. I was disappointed, but then came strolling around from the paperback books section. Before I could stop myself, a smile spread across my face, and Eric returned it with a genuine smile of his own.

Compared to last week, Eric had shaved and looked even more handsome, leaving me thunderstruck. His sideburns reached the midpoint of his ears. He wore loose-fitting black shorts that ended just above his knees. His solid legs were covered in black hair, which formed a pattern that accentuated his toned calf muscles. He wore the same black sneakers as before, paired with black ankle-high socks. I observed that Eric’s feet were larger than mine—at least a size 13! (You know what they say about men’s shoe sizes!)

Eric smiled and said, “Hello, you,” his voice full of warmth.

I froze in nervousness at his greeting and managed to reply, “Hello!”

“You look fine,” Eric continued.

“Is he flirting with me?” I thought. In my flustered state, I blurted out the most ridiculous response, “I feel fine.”

I wished I could just vanish into the nearest empty comic box. But then, I noticed Eric's t-shirt, and suddenly all my nerves vanished as I found myself in my comfort zone.

“Howard the Duck!” I exclaimed. “Howard for President – from 1976!”

“It’s not an original,” Eric laughed. “I got it from an internet shop that specializes in vintage shirts.”

“But it’s still awesome!” I replied, reading the slogan, 'Get Down America!’ Then I commented on the ’76 election, “You know, he should have won.” We both chuckled.

Eric pointed to my shirt and said, “Original Star Trek!” And with mock seriousness added, “Okay, imagine you’re trapped on a planet, surrounded by aliens in an impossible situation. Which Captain would you want leading your landing party: Kirk or Picard?”

“Kirk, of course!”

Eric gave me a high five and exclaimed, “Naturally!”

We both laughed.

“I got here about half an hour ago and already picked up my comics,” he said. “How was your week?”

Eric and I chatted about our weeks, and he found out that I worked in an accounting office.

“No way!” he exclaimed. “I’m a CPA at Capital Accounting!”

“I’m only an entry-level clerk at my office, but I plan to major in accounting,” I replied.

“It can be a good career,” Eric commented. “There are plenty of opportunities out there. I started at Capital right out of college and have been there ever since.”

We began strolling down the “New Arrivals” wall, just like the week before. We wouldn't get far in the alphabet without one of us commenting on a title. The conversation was engaging, but my mind kept drifting back to how HOT Eric looked! I loved his well-built physique—not overly muscular, but with a softness that I found appealing. Once again, I was captivated by his face; it had so much personality and expressiveness!

At one point, Eric and I reached for the same comic, and our hands brushed against each other’s. It looked like he’d been reaching for the comic awkwardly for his hand to touch mine. Had it been intentional? I found myself wondering if Eric was flirting with me. If so, I didn’t want to look at his face, so I did something silly: I said, “Sorry,” and hurriedly pulled my hand away like it had been burned, causing the comic to fall to the floor. Why was I always so scared around good-looking men?

When we finished with the comics, Eric asked, “Do you want to go to lunch?”

“Sure,” I replied without hesitation because I wanted to spend more time with him.

“Have you ever been to Wilson’s Diner?”

“No, I’ve never heard of it,” I answered. “But if you recommend it…”

“Okay then, let’s buy our comics and split like a banana,” Eric said with the lopsided smile he always made when acting corny. “You can follow me in your car.”

My heart sank as I remembered my experience with the assistant manager at Music City, when I'd been embarrassed about not having a car at my age. However, that notion was short-lived. I was so comfortable with Eric that I didn't feel awkward when I explained that I was saving for both college and a car and that I took the bus everywhere.

“Then we’ll take my car.” He responded straightforwardly, “Come on.”

Eric owned a medium-sized SUV. As we left the parking lot, he turned on the CD player. I began singing softly along to the song playing. I felt at ease with Eric, as I don’t ordinarily sing in front of others.

Eric turned and asked, "How do you know this song? It’s from the early 90s, and it wasn't exactly a mainstream hit." He laughed and added, "No offense, but you look a bit young to remember it."

“I’m 18,” I replied, hastily continuing as if hoping he hadn’t paid much attention to my age. “I watch programs on YouTube; they play tons of progressive rock. I love this kind of music.”

Eric showed no reaction to my revelation of my age. “That’s my favorite era, too—high school and college,” he added animatedly. “I’ve made CDs of my favorite songs,” he said, pointing to the one in the player.

"Deadbeat Club" by the B-52s began to play, and we joined to sing along to the introspective song. In that moment, we felt like two parts of a single entity. I wasn’t focused on my physical attraction to Eric. We had a lot in common and were relaxed with each other, which is a rare thing for me.

We ate lunch at the diner and talked about science fiction movies, TV shows, and books. Eric's sense of humor shone through when, after contemplating the menu, he asked me, “Do deviled eggs come from wicked chickens?”

I replied, “It depends on which farm animal is making the moral judgment.”

We both have a quirky but harmless sense of humor!

Before long, I found myself sharing stories about my parents and sister. I thought it strange that Eric didn’t share anything about his family. Though I did learn that his last name was Brooks and that Eric had known Ken, the owner of the comic shop, for a very long time. Eric was his accountant. I also learned Eric was an Aries, which shouldn’t have surprised me. It was like every guy I had a (secret) crush on turned out to be an Aries. I wonder if there’s something that draws Capricorns to them?

Our conversation shifted to the pretentious, trendy specialty restaurants that keep popping up downtown and the unusual dishes they serve. There’s one place that serves only baked potatoes and charges an ungodly amount for the toppings. We started brainstorming our own restaurant ideas, such as hot dogs without buns, a spinach restaurant with spinach soup, spinach sandwiches, spinach ice cream, and even lizard burgers. We came up with some of the most bizarre foods we could think of, and we laughed the entire time.

After a few moments of quiet, Eric said, “I’m 33.” He paused for a moment, then continued, “You’re 18, but it’s like there’s no age difference between us.” He reflected, “Our interests—and your knowledge about things—make you seem older.”

“My mom always points that out,” I replied. “She says I’m an old soul in a young body. At work, I fit in perfectly with the ‘adults.’” I made air quotes with my fingers on the last word.

“I can see that,” Eric said softly.

Although we’d kept ordering refills of our Cokes, we could tell we were overstaying our welcome; the server started giving us the 'hairy eyeball.' When he asked whether we wanted separate checks, I promptly replied, "Yes."

Eric said, “I’ve got it.” But, not once, but twice, I insisted on paying my share. Eric didn’t argue anymore. I could already hear my friend David calling me a “doofus” for rejecting what might have been an attempt to show interest in me beyond friendship.

As we drove back to the comic shop, I glanced at the dashboard and exclaimed, “Damn! I missed my bus! The weekend schedule is so spotty.”

“Don’t worry,” Eric volunteered, “I’ll take you home.”

I was upset. After Eric commented that he felt no age difference between us, I feared it made me look like an irresponsible kid. Eric pulled the SUV into my parents’ driveway and parked.

"My house is only a few miles away," Eric said. "I actually passed yours on my way to the comic shop." He continued casually, "Why don't I just pick you up? It’s no problem. It’s right on my way.” He paused, then added as if trying to “sell” me on the idea, “It’ll save you the bus fare, and we can have lunch again."

I hesitated. I had enjoyed the wonderful time without worrying about whether Eric was gay. I had begun to accept that he was straight. Could I be mistaken? I pushed the thought aside and agreed to his proposal. We exchanged phone numbers so we could contact each other on Friday to confirm our plans for Saturday.

We said goodbye, and I waved as I walked toward the front door. Eric didn’t drive away until he saw me open the door safely. He’s just a considerate guy, I told myself, I shouldn't read anything more into it.

CHAPTER 4

Late on Saturday afternoon, I called my best friend, David. I hadn’t told him anything about my meeting with Eric the previous week because, at the time, there seemed to be nothing to share. But now? I had plenty to discuss. I filled David in on everything that had happened with Eric, right up to our goodbye in the driveway.

“I don’t know what to think,” David admitted. “With your wonky gaydar and insecurities, it's possible you overlooked some things that you haven’t mentioned to me. If I didn’t have to work on Saturdays, I would swing by the comic shop to check him out myself. But you're right; it does sound like, for several moments, he might have been showing interest, and you kind of blew it off. And I don’t mean that kind of blowing!”

“I guess that’s true,” I replied dejectedly.

David continued, "I bet he could be a cool friend. And if he ends up being gay and interested in you, you’ll have a strong foundation of friendship to build a romantic relationship on. Those are the couples that last.” He paused for a moment and then laughed. “But please don’t tell anyone I said that; I have a reputation to maintain," he added, hinting at his romantic history with girls.

David paused for a moment, then asked, “Has Eric ever talked about girls? You know, like past girlfriends?”

“I don’t think so,” I replied, with a sense of hope rising in my voice. “In fact, he rarely discusses his past at all, except for what he learned in college.”

“Well, there you go. Eric might be keeping his sexuality and relationships private until he gets to know you better. Give that some thought.” After that, David and I wrapped up our phone call.

I tried to review everything David had said, but enticing images of Eric kept intruding. Once again, I succumbed to my desires and masturbated to thoughts of him when I went to bed. We were in Wilson's Diner, where I pictured myself lying on the table with my hairy legs spread apart in the air. Eric’s mouth was pressed against mine, and we kissed while he fucked me hard, grunting with each thrust of his manhood! The server was giving us a disapproving look because we were positively overstaying our welcome, and he still needed to clear the table. In my fantasy, Eric let out a growl as he cummed inside me. I let loose a small yell when I ejaculated all over myself and the bed. I was afraid my parents might have heard it, but if they did, they never mentioned anything.

The rest of the week, I felt guilty about pleasuring myself over Eric. I kept thinking, would I masturbate to my friend, David? Although very sexy, I knew the answer to be no. I’d never want to jeopardize our friendship by imagining something that could never be between us. It didn’t seem healthy. Eric should fall into the same category.

Eric called me on Friday, as promised, to check if we were still on for Saturday. I confirmed with a hearty “yes”. He then asked if I would like to go to the Arcade Funhouse. My family used to visit there frequently when my sister and I were younger, and I still go there with my best friend, David.

“Sure,” I said.

"Great!" Eric said. "I’ll pick you up around 10:30. We can grab our comics, then head to the arcade and have lunch afterward."

After hanging up the phone, a wave of anxiety washed over me, intensified by my mixed emotions for Eric. This lingered throughout the evening and into the next morning. But as soon as I saw Eric pull into the driveway, all the anxiety vanished. Eric had a way of putting me at ease, and being together felt as natural as breathing.

After our regular visit to the comic shop, Eric and I headed over to Arcade Funhouse. We had an amazing time, acting like kids as we played video games, participated in the ball toss, enjoyed air hockey, and tried out various other games. We shared laughter and smiles the entire time.

At one point, Eric noted that most of the games featured Braille signs posted on them. He commented that it was odd to have Braille on machines that relied on vision. As he ran his finger across one of the Braille signs, he looked shocked by what he had "read." "Man!" he exclaimed, "‘Do not touch’ must be one of the scariest things to read in Braille." I laughed so hard that I thought the arcade might kick me out.

On the bumper cars, our giggles left us breathless, with each impact taking our breath away. I was secretly disappointed that the outdoor dunking tank wasn't working; I would have loved to see Eric get soaked, with his wet t-shirt and shorts clinging to him in all the right places!

During lunch, we learned that we both loved mystery novels and real-life mysteries. We shared our theories on the kidnapping of the Lindbergh baby and the possible fate of Amelia Earhart.

When the server asked whether there would be two checks, Eric replied without delay, "Yes." Unlike the previous week, he didn't offer to pay. If his earlier offer suggested romantic interest, then David was correct; by refusing it twice last week, I had made it clear that I wasn't interested. I had indisputably been a "doofus."

Eric drove me home, and we lingered in the driveway for a long time, discussing a topic I don’t remember. The lingering question of whether he might be gay crept back into my mind. As far as I could recall, there had been no flirting or any signs of interest from him this week, but my blind spot made me uncertain. As I got out of the car, I sensed that neither of us wanted to say goodbye, but I dismissed it as mere wishful thinking.

A phone call with David didn’t offer any new insights into my confusion about Eric. The horniness I felt for him, however, was still clear, and I masturbated as I had the previous Saturday night. As his image started to take shape in my mind, I pictured myself making a successful shot at the dunk tank. As Eric climbed out, his wet clothes clung to him, outlining the contours of his body. I helped him take off his soaked clothes and dried his naked body with a towel. Eric’s erection stood at full salute. I took it in my mouth and gave him a blow job that made him sink to his knees as he cummed down my throat. I felt guilty for jerking off to a ‘friend’, but boy, had my orgasm been good!

CHAPTER 5

Eric surprised me when he called me on Tuesday evening. He wanted to know how everything went at work that day. I had forgotten that I mentioned the “restructuring” meeting scheduled at my job. I had been worried about the possibility of being laid off. It was sweet of him to remember and check on me!

I told Eric that everything was fine, merely a realignment of management duties. He sounded relieved to hear that. However, he didn’t end the call there. We ended up talking for half an hour about the terrible heat wave in Texas and the drought conditions in our state. We might have continued our conversation longer if my mom hadn't called me to dinner. We wished each other a good night, and I felt as happy as if I’d been with Eric in person.

On Thursday evening, I decided to call Eric. I asked how his week had been. There was nothing unusual about this since David and I often check in on each other without needing a specific reason—it's just what friends do.

Eric was pleased at my call. He talked about his day and mentioned, “The organ grinder was back in front of work today. I don’t like the way the monkey is eyeing me.”

I couldn’t help but laugh uncontrollably as I imagined the scenario. Eric's unique sense of humor always makes me feel good. Our conversation soon shifted to a news story. Still, just as things started getting interesting, my mom called me to dinner. We cut our conversation short.

On Friday, I made a brief call with Eric to confirm what time he would pick me up on Saturday for our comics outing. During the call, he asked if I wanted to go to the mall afterward for a bite to eat, and I agreed. We spent a long time at the mall's video store and bookstore. As usual, Eric and I discussed various titles and topics, sharing plenty of laughs along the way. After that, we arrived at Music City, where I instantly spotted Rick, the assistant manager who had tried to pick me up seven months earlier.

“Connor!” Rick exclaimed, extending his hand for a shake. “How are you doing?” His hand lightly brushed mine in a meaningful way. “I haven’t seen you in a while.” I could tell Rick was remembering our last meeting. I introduced Eric, and they shook hands.

“Connor and I are old friends,” Rick explained, keeping his eyes locked on me. “You still have to come over to my place.” He gave the impression of being jealous of Eric as he tried to ascertain whether we were a couple. Why was my gaydar and ability to judge amorous intent working now, of all times?

As Rick checked out Eric, I realized how proud I was to be seen with him. Rick may have been younger and conventionally better-looking, but my heart belonged to Eric. I was stunned by the realization: “My heart belonged to Eric!” In that moment, I understood I had fallen in love with him. Everything about him captivated me—from his corny humor and diverse interests to his thoughtfulness, playful expressions, and masculine physique. I was in love with him and didn’t want to lose him!

This self-admission left me distracted for the rest of the afternoon. Eric and I ate a late lunch at the mall food court, and soon after, we parked in my parents' driveway. He hadn't reacted to Rick in any way beyond friendly politeness. It had been clear that Rick was gay and attracted to me, and I had hoped this would spark some jealousy in Eric. However, there was nothing—Eric didn’t even notice my distraction afterward, or if he did, he chose not to mention it. Once again, I found myself pondering whether he was straight.

My thoughts were interrupted by movement at the front door of my house. My parents had come out and were walking toward us! It was like being in an episode of the Twilight Zone, reliving a twisted version of when I was 16, when I’d accepted that I was gay. At that time, Mr. Nipples had invited me to his place, only for my parents to show up and interrupt everything. Now, having accepted that I had fallen in love with a man, here they were again, interrupting me at a significant point in my life!

Eric's SUV was parked behind my parents’ car, so I told him he needed to move it. Instead, Eric got out of the vehicle and walked over to my parents. He greeted them and extended his hand to shake.

“Hi, I’m Eric Brooks, and you must be Connor’s parents.” He said with genuine delight. “It’s a pleasure to meet you!”

I wanted to hide in the rhododendron bushes; too much was happening today!

Both my parents responded to Eric’s greeting, with my mom adding, “We’ve heard a lot about you.”

Oh, Lord! My mind began to race as I recalled every conversation I’d had with my parents since I learned to talk. My memories reached the present, focusing on what I had said about Eric over the past few weeks. We were a close family, and I had mentioned Eric as a friend with whom I shared many interests. My dad was a sci-fi fan, so much of our discussion about Eric was sincerely interesting to him.

“I’m glad that Connor and I have become friends,” Eric told my parents. “You did a remarkable job raising him because there aren’t many men who possess the values and sense of responsibility that he has.” He added, “Let me move my car so you can leave.”

“We should have a conversation about Star Trek sometime,” my dad said as they headed to the car. “Connor says you’re like a walking reference book, but I’m not sure you could beat me.”

Just like in the music store earlier, a sense of pride washed over me. I was proud to be with Eric, and it seemed like my parents liked him too. And I noticed Eric had referred to me as a “man,” not a kid, teenager, or young adult – but a “man”!

Eric climbed into his SUV and called out to me, “See you next week!” He and my parents backed out of the driveway. Eric paused in the street for a moment while my parents drove off to pick up my sister from a friend’s house. He waved goodbye to me, wearing one of his cute smiles that I adored so much. After that, he drove away.

I couldn’t help but cry. I desperately wanted to be in the SUV with him.

I eventually managed to regain control of my emotions. I waited alone in the house for David to get off work so I could call him. I began to describe my day when I burst into tears and blurted out, “I’ve fallen in love with Eric, and I don’t know what I’m going to do!”

CHAPTER 6

David calmed me down and encouraged me to clarify my statement about falling in love with Eric. I shared the entire story, tears streaming down my face.

David said, "Connor, I saw this coming."

"But I don’t even know if Eric is gay, let alone if he’s attracted to me!" I cried.

"You doofus! Can’t you see that you two have been dating for weeks?! If that isn’t interest, I don’t know what is."

"But…"

“No buts!” David interrupted. “You listen. Yes, Eric may be hard to read, but I’ve known you for almost our whole lives, and I know a blind person would have trouble reading you, even in braille!

“Have you thought about the possibility that Eric might have some issues with being gay, just like you? The deeper his feelings are for someone, the more difficult it is for him to be open. He may have been waiting for signals from you, but hasn’t received any.”

"But he's older!" I protested. "He's 33, and I’m only 18. He’s supposed to be experienced."

"But that could be the problem,” David said firmly. "The age difference might be bothering him. Perhaps he's intimidated by the fact that you're a virgin. Who knows?”

“Virgin?!” I exclaimed in panic. “How could he know that I’m a virgin?”

“He used a Ouija board,” David deadpanned. Then, realizing that I was actually considering that explanation, he added, “I’m kidding about the Ouija board. And I’m not saying he knows; I’m just throwing ideas out there.

"But I am certain, if he is gay and has feelings for you, you need to take action soon. Otherwise, he may lose interest, and you could risk jeopardizing the friendship you’ve built.

"Even if he’s straight, you’ve developed a close bond. I doubt he’ll be bothered by your sexuality, which I’m sure he’s aware of, along with your feelings for him. He’ll likely be concerned about you and your emotional well-being. Honestly, I’m concerned about you. You can’t continue like this."

I kept crying, but I paid attention to everything David said.

“You are a very handsome man,” David said sincerely. “You have an incredible personality. You need to stop thinking you’re unattractive and closing yourself off from your instincts. Get over that. Start looking at and listening to Eric—really pay attention to him.” He emphasized, “Hold eye contact; see what he sees when he looks at you. Stop waiting for Eric to hand you a Willy Wonka golden ticket inviting you to his bed!”

I remained silent, crying no more.

“Fuck it, Connor!” David exclaimed, losing his patience. “If I were gay, I’d jump your bones in a minute! You’d make a wonderful husband! I mean it! Just because I like girls doesn’t mean I can’t recognize good-looking, nice guys!”

David and I talked for over an hour. I’m leaving out the rest of our conversation because it doesn’t relate to the subject at hand. David and I have been through a lot together over the years. I’d helped him through some very difficult times. I trust David with my life, and he trusts me with his. I was determined not to let him down and stood ready to try his advice.

On Sunday, I called Eric to apologize for being distracted the previous afternoon. I told him I had some things on my mind. As a good friend, Eric didn’t question me. Our conversation was brief.

The next day after work, he called to see if I was any better. Honestly, I was, and I expressed my gratitude for his call. Eric mentioned that he would have to work late on Tuesday and couldn’t call, but we planned to talk on Wednesday.

On Wednesday, we had a good laugh when we realized we experienced a busy signal for 30 minutes because we were dialing each other at the same time! I called Eric again on Thursday. Similar to the day before, our conversation was short. It didn’t cover much, but we enjoyed every moment together.

Although I admitted to both David and myself that I had fallen in love with Eric, I still managed the phone calls without revealing my feelings to Eric. I didn’t think it would be best to discuss it over the phone; it needed to be done in person. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be able to practice my mantra: “Start looking at, listening to, and maintaining eye contact to understand what he’s experiencing.”

On Friday, Eric called to confirm our regular Saturday plans. He mentioned that he had gotten the Blu-ray of the movie "Howard the Duck." He invited me to his place to watch it. I was pleased and accepted!

Afterward, I spoke with David, and he pointed out that although the week of phone calls seemed promising for Eric and me, Saturday might be our last chance to move beyond friendship. He noted that aside from Eric's SUV, all the places we went had been public. This time, it would be a private setting, and he encouraged me to take advantage of it. David even made me repeat the mantra: "Start looking; listening; hold eye contact to see what he’s seeing." I focused on that all evening, but I accidentally slipped and started muttering it at the dinner table with my parents. Oops!

CHAPTER 7

Eric and I started our Saturday like we typically did, with him picking me up to head to the comic book store to buy our comics. I was dressed in my typical outfit: a plain black T-shirt, 6-inch inseam shorts, and tennis shoes with ankle-high socks.

Eric wore a black T-shirt, woolen socks featuring Superman imagery, and his usual black tennis shoes. However, his choice of shorts was different from what he usually wore. While he typically opted for knee-length shorts, today he wore a pair with a 7-inch inseam. Did he choose these for me? Although they weren’t as short as mine, it was the first time I got a full look at his soft, black, hair-covered legs. They were more impressive than I had imagined—strong and well-toned, notably his thighs.

We picked up our comics and browsed the “New Arrivals” wall, just as we always did. As we chatted about various topics and enjoyed each other's company, Eric asked if I wanted to skip lunch and go straight to his house to watch the movie. "Howard the Duck” is almost two hours long, so we would have popcorn to tide us over until a late lunch afterward. I felt nervous, but also excited about watching the movie again after all these years. I agreed to go.

Eric lived in a mid-century modern house on a tree filled street. As he unlocked the door, he imitated Bela Lugosi, saying, "Welcome to my house! Enter freely and of your own will!" He laughed and waved me in.

Although it might have seemed flirtatious, I recognized the line from Bram Stoker's novel "Dracula." Given our geeky nature, I understood the playful reference and laughed along with him.

“I bought the house about six months ago,” Eric explained. “I purchased it at a good price because it was a fixer-upper. I hope to do a lot of the work myself. There are terrific reference materials on 'how-to' projects, but I’ve found most of them require tools I don’t have. So, it’s taking longer than I’d hoped.”

“My dad is a general contractor,” I reminded him, “and does this sort of thing for a living. Maybe you can borrow tools from him when you need them.”

“You think so?” Eric said happily, “That’d be great. I’ll keep that in mind.”

The two-bedroom, two-bathroom house was decorated in a style typical of a professional man in his thirties. The decor featured a color scheme of hunter green and wood tones, and everything matched perfectly. The knick-knacks looked like they belonged in a showroom. Nonetheless, a few strategically placed items visibly revealed his passion for comics and science fiction. It created an eclectic mix.

Eric told me to kick off my shoes wherever I liked as he tossed his into a corner. I followed his lead and started browsing his keepsakes.

“Your place is nice! It looks like it was decorated by a professional,” I complimented him.

“My friend Julie did everything. She used to be a professional decorator, and for a few years, we were inseparable,” Eric laughed. “People thought we were married! She's as big a comic book and sci-fi geek as we are. A couple of years ago, she got married and moved away to focus solely on her family. She has the cutest kids you’ve ever seen! I’m their godfather,” he added proudly. “We’re still close and talk a lot.”

So, Julie had been the woman in Eric’s life whom people at the comic shop said to "say hi" to, which led me to believe him straight. Yep, that old saying about making an ass of oneself was true! I felt like an idiot now!

Eric invited me to sit on the couch facing the TV screen while he prepared a whopping bowl of popcorn. Once he finished, he placed a couple of glasses of Coke on the coffee table, queued up the Blu-ray, and sat closely beside me on my right. I didn't sense any ulterior motive; our legs lay close together to support the massive popcorn bowl. We settled in to enjoy the movie.

From the very beginning of the movie, we commented on things that didn’t look as bad as we remembered. We noted that the film had heart and was made with a sincere attempt to be a legitimate film. However, we couldn’t help but comment on the unfortunate, cringeworthy parts.

At one point, our hands reached for the same popcorn kernel. We began arguing in silly voices, each claiming the kernel as our own. I claimed the piece of popcorn. In response, Eric grabbed a heaping handful and stuffed it into his mouth while exclaiming, “Pop corrrrn!” like the Cookie Monster. Kernels flew everywhere, and as Eric laughed with his mouth full, he created an even bigger mess.

Our eyes met, and I recalled David’s mantra. I held Eric’s gaze as we giggled, but then something exciting happened in the movie. Like children with ADHD, we abruptly forgot our bonding moment and became engrossed in the screen. Hey, I mentioned before that we’re both comic geeks!

As we watched the movie and ate popcorn, our hands brushed against each other’s in the bowl several times. We let some of those touches linger longer than Amy Vanderbilt's *Book of Etiquette* would deem appropriate. During one of these moments, I turned to look at Eric and smiled. He returned my smile, and I held his gaze for a moment.

After we finished the bowl of popcorn, Eric paused the movie and started cleaning up the kernels that had scattered while he’d goofed around. A few pieces were in my lap, and I felt a sense of disappointment when he removed them without his large hands lingering in my crotch. He then took our cups and the empty popcorn bowl to the kitchen to refill our drinks. When he returned to the living room, Eric took a sip from his glass and set it down on the coffee table. I did the same.

Eric settled back down next to me, this time pressing his body snug against mine. He propped his legs up on the coffee table and crossed his ankles. I found his hairy legs, clad in woolen Superman socks, adorable—a big, strong 33-year-old man wearing kids’ socks! This is one of the reasons I fell in love with him!

I imitated Eric by raising my feet and crossing my ankles on the table, too. The hairs on my legs softly brushed against his, creating a lovely moment. Then, Eric nonchalantly draped his left arm over the back of the couch behind me. We settled in to watch the movie with our feet touching. Summoning a surge of bravery, I brushed my foot against his. In response, Eric nudged his foot against mine. Before long, we were engaged in a brief but tender game of footsie, exchanging smiles as we played.

Eric lowered his arm and draped it around my shoulders, resting his large hand on my left arm. When I looked at him, he wore an affectionate smile. Holding his gaze, I smiled back, and he gave my arm a slight squeeze. Our grins grew wider.

Taking a deep breath, I placed my right hand on his upper left leg. After gathering my courage, I moved my hand to the inside of his thigh. We exchanged tender smiles once more before becoming engrossed in the movie again.

CHAPTER 8

Eric and I were completely absorbed by the final scenes of the “Howard the Duck” movie. At some point, I’m not sure when it happened, our heads had tilted and now rested against each other’s. I looked at Eric as he slowly lifted his head away. There was an emotion in his gaze that I had never seen before. We lowered our feet from the coffee table, and tenderly, Eric leaned in, moving his lips toward mine. They touched fleetingly before giving way to a gentle kiss.

With our eyes closed, Eric captured my lower lip between his and began to suck on it. I responded by softly taking his upper lip with my mouth. My heart raced as our lips met again, and the kiss deepened into open-mouth probing with our tongues. Eric lifted his right hand to my face, pulling me closer. I mirrored his action, bringing my hand to his face. Our mouths pressed together, and we were lost in desire. I never imagined that kissing could be so wonderful! I was surprised by how arousing it was to kiss a man. The gentle brush of his beard stubble against my face was such a turn-on!

“I love you, Eric!” I managed to say between kisses. “I love you so much!”

Eric pulled back for a moment, a surprised expression on his face. “Oh, God, Connor, I love you too, I didn’t think you felt the same way!”

“Oh, I do! I really do! I thought you weren’t interested. I even wondered if you were straight!”

“Oh, I'm definitely not straight!" Eric said emphatically, laughing before kissing me enthusiastically again. "You are so handsome!"

Eric shifted his body, pushing me onto my back as he continued his barrage of kisses. He lay flat on top of me, and we began moving our hips against each other. I could feel our erections pressing against one another through the fabric of our shorts.

Eric's right hand moved beneath my t-shirt, caressing my abs with his long, thick fingers. He knelt and straddled my body, effortlessly pulling me up, removing my t-shirt, and tossing it onto the floor. Eric lowered me back down and kissed me intensely once more. His kisses traveled down my neck and reached my sensitive nipples. I struggled to suppress a giggle.

Eric began unbuckling my belt, then he unfastened the button of my shorts and slowly lowered the zipper. Grasping the waistband of both my shorts and underwear, he pulled them down. I lifted my hips to help him. My erect penis fell back against my body, making a slapping sound. Eric pulled off my pants and removed my socks. There I was, utterly naked in front of a man for the first time, my erection at full attention. More importantly, I was laid out before the man I loved with all my heart and soul!

Eric looked over my body, his smile lopsided and mischievous. He assessed my long, slender feet and moved up to my well-defined ankles, sturdy calves, and toned thighs. The hair on my legs extended between my buttocks and formed a generous amount of pubic hair. Eric admired my sizeable, round, firm testicles. He appeared surprised by the size of my penis, which measured 6 inches in length, was circumcised, and had a larger-than-average girth. Given my slim and wiry frame, Eric likely expected a similar build for my dick.

Eric's gaze moved over my body, tracing the line of hair that extended from my groin to just below my navel. He smiled as he admired my six-pack abs and slim waist, but his grin widened when he looked at my chest. My moderately muscular pecs were adorned with a light sprinkling of hair in the center. My small pink nipples were erect as usual. I imagine he’d spotted them under my t-shirts before – always pert, regardless of the room's temperature.

His gaze swept over my broad shoulders. He was obviously admiring the tight, wiry muscles that defined my biceps and forearms, which were covered in light brown hair. Eric took one of my long-fingered hands and kissed them several times. Then, using the back of his hand, he began to caress my face, tracing the outline of my small ears and the lock of hair that always wanted to stand up.

             

“Don’t,” I said, “I don’t like the way my hair does that.”

Eric tousled my hair and replied, “I love it. I love your hair. I love everything about your body. You are so beautiful—more than I ever imagined.” The look of love in his eyes made me want to cry.

Still on his knees straddling me, Eric removed his glasses and pulled off his t-shirt, discarding it along with my clothes. My gaze was drawn to his well-muscled back, shoulders, and biceps. While I could see their shape through his t-shirts, the sight of his bare muscles was even more impressive. Nestled under those splendid arms was a patch of bushy black armpit hair, a feature of men which always turned me on.

Eric had a broad chest and waist. Although his muscles were well-defined, they had begun to soften with age. The upper part of his chest was covered in a generous patch of hair that was turning gray. That hair framed his medium-sized, dark nipples, which sat atop his considerable pectoral muscles.

Eric's stomach still showed signs of a defined six-pack. Surrounding his navel and extending down beneath his shorts was a substantial band of dark black hair.

While I admire men with defined muscles, I prefer a more natural appearance that reflects the aging process. To me, Eric’s 33-year-old physique was ideal, and my engorged penis throbbed in agreement.

Eric gave me a warm smile before lowering his head toward my crotch. He nuzzled with his nose and licked around my engorged shaft with his tongue. He moved up and down, step by step, getting closer to my cock’s head. Once there, Eric delicately licked it before opening his mouth and taking my shaft down it. He moved like a hungry predator, swallowing more until all six inches were down his throat. His nose and chin disappeared in my pubic hair.

“Wow, you really have a big mouth!” I exclaimed.

“Well, thanks!” Eric replied sarcastically.

“No! I didn’t mean it that way,” I said apologetically. “I meant that you have a wide mouth, and you’re taking my dick like it’s a popsicle.”

Eric laughed, “I like popsicles,” he said. “I bet you have a big mouth too.”

Eric sucked with an intensity as if his life depended on it. The porn DVDs did not prepare me for the incredible sensations I experienced. Slowly, he raised his mouth almost to the head of my cock, and then he went down again. He repeated this motion, gradually increasing his speed each time. I cried out in ecstasy, “I’m going to cum!”

I wasn’t embarrassed about reaching climax so fast. This was my first blow job, and I’d been unprepared for the amazing sensations. Eric continued to suck on the top quarter of my shaft as I began exploding with semen - shot after uncontrollable shot. I moaned in pleasure. As my hips bucked, I could see and hear Eric struggling to keep up with swallowing my seed, but in the end, he couldn’t manage it. White jizz began dripping from the side of his mouth, trailing down his chin and landing on my pubic hair and upper stomach. Eric's gaze remained fixed on mine as he savored the tumult of emotions playing across my face.

When I stopped shooting, Eric pulled away to finish swallowing. Then he returned his mouth to my dick to clean up every last residue of cum. He was thorough and allowed my penis to fall to my stomach, now becoming flaccid.

Eric lay down on top of me, our bare chests pressed against each other, a sensation that almost drove me wild. My hands wandered over Eric’s muscular back, pulling him as close as possible. His strong hands caressed my torso and arms, then rested on the sides of my face as he began to kiss me fervently. I could taste some of my seed in his mouth, being returned to me by his tongue. Believe it or not, I never tasted my own semen when I masturbated. The salty-sweet flavor was intoxicating.

Eric pulled his lips away and, in a hoarse voice, exclaimed, “I love you, Connor.” With barely enough breath, I responded, “And I love you, Eric.” We gazed into each other’s eyes, both grinning like goofballs. What do you expect? We were just two silly guys profoundly in love.

CHAPTER 9

I placed my hands on Eric's chest and encouraged him to sit up. He understood my intentions, lifted himself off me, and reclined back on the couch. I made sure he had enough space to stretch his legs and positioned my naked body directly on top of his. Eric kissed me with a fervor I didn't think possible. He grasped my buttocks with his hands, massaged them, and began pulling them apart to expose my man hole. I pressed my hips against his, moving in rhythm with his massage.

I knelt over Eric's body, caressing his chest as he touched my upper legs. I leaned in and gave him an impassioned kiss on his lips, his cheeks, and nibbled his large ears. I kissed and ran my tongue along his neck, nuzzling his upper chest hair, and teasing his nipples. He moaned in delight. Evidently, his nipples weren't as ticklish as mine. I continued my kisses down his abdomen, flicking my tongue in his navel. Eric groaned in response.

I sat up, our eyes locking together as we shared an unspoken connection. Eric nodded and flashed a broad grin. I smiled back, then reached for his belt buckle, unfastening it, then the button, and unzipped his pants. I mirrored the actions he had taken with me, grabbing the waistband of his shorts and underwear and slowly pulling them down. Eric lifted his hips to help out, but his engorged penis got caught in the elastic waistband of his boxer shorts. He reached down to free himself, and I finished pulling his pants down his legs before tossing them to the floor. His wool Superman socks followed suit. Now I had a complete view of the man I loved, absolutely unclothed. He was gorgeous!

Eric’s feet were larger than mine, as I had suspected. However, I found his legs more attractive than I anticipated. He had nicely toned calves and thighs, all covered in black hair. That hair continued up to his buttocks and extended to his substantial, dangling testicles, and formed a dense patch of pubic hair. Eric's penis stood erect, measuring just over seven inches in length and notably thick—very thick, in fact. I wondered if I could take it in my mouth. His shaft was circumcised, ending with a mushroom-shaped tip. Although larger ones were exhibited in adult films, Eric's was impressive nonetheless—because it belonged to him.

I grasped his dick with my left hand and lowered my mouth around it. Eric’s girth gave me no problems. I moved my mouth down and then back up, sucking the entire time.

“Is this your first time?” Eric asked.

I responded with a “Mmm-hhmm” to acknowledge him.

“You should wrap your upper lip around your front teeth.” He said, “It keeps your teeth from scratching sensitive skin.”

I took his suggestion to heart, increasingly taking his member deeper with each thrust. Eric moaned with pleasure, and he gave a slight nod acknowledging my improvement with the teeth. Eric began moving his hips upward every time I went down on him, causing me to gag.

"I’m sorry," Eric said sincerely, "I shouldn’t have rushed you. Don’t expect the first time to be like what I did. You’ll learn, and it will get easier. You’re doing great! Believe me, you are doing great!"

I locked eyes with him and slowed my pace. He let out a groan and said slowly, “I love seeing your beautiful lips wrapped around my dick! I started to think this would never happen.” Eric began to breathe heavily. Apparently, what he said had pushed him over the edge. “Oh, God, I’m going to cum! I’m cuming!” He shouted. Eric lasted longer than I, but, of course, he was more experienced.

I lifted my face, uncertain about swallowing while giving my first blow-job. Eric held my head with his left hand and grabbed his dick with his right. He stroked himself twice before climaxing, releasing his seed all over my face. Eric grunted with every shot, which I thought would never end.

Eric finished, released me from his grip, and looked at my face with such love. A smile appeared, growing larger until he began to laugh uncontrollably.

I began to panic. "What's wrong?" I cried out.

“I love you so much, Connor,” Eric said with a chuckle. "But you look like you've been in a pie fight with the Three Stooges. You have creamed cum all over your face! I'm sorry, but you look so cute!"

I raised my hand to my face and was astonished by the amount of semen covering it. Looking into Eric’s brown eyes, filled with affection, I couldn’t help but laugh along with him.

“Knock it off, Puddin’head!” I said, referencing the classic comedy trio. Then, I wiped some off my face and good-naturedly slapped him with it, spreading it across his face.

Eric wiped some off and, in a playful move, smacked my face with it. "Take that!" he exclaimed, which made both of us laugh even harder.

He gathered more cum and placed two of his fingers in my mouth. I licked them clean. Eric repeated the gesture, but this time I took his hand and kept his thick fingers in my mouth, sucking on them like a popsicle stick. Our eyes met with tenderness as we continued this action until my face was relatively clean.

Eric shifted on the couch, making room for me to lie partially beside him. I wrapped my left leg around his legs and rested my head on his shoulder so that I could look into his face. My hand caressed the hair on his chest while his hand stroked my arm and lower back.

With his mischievous, lopsided grin, Eric spoke softly, “Only we could turn a beautiful, intimate moment into a comedy sketch!”

“That’s one reason I fell in love with you,” I whispered. “But you’re right; it was beautiful. I never imagined how incredible a blow-job could feel, both when giving and receiving.”

“Sex is better when you know, care for, and love your partner,” Eric said. “And I know, care for, and love Conner Johnson.”

I replied, “And I know, care for, and love Eric Brooks.”

We lay in silence for a few minutes, holding each other close.

“You were marvelous, by the way,” Eric said. “You kiss wonderfully, and your blow-job was fantastic.”

“Really?” I asked.

“Your blow job was better than my first time,” Eric replied.

I looked at him with a questioning expression.

“I took the guy’s hard cock in my mouth and started blowing on it,” he said, laughing.

“No way!”

“Yes, I actually was blowing on it! Hey, it’s called a ‘blow job’, right? It never occurred to me that I should have been sucking his dick instead of blowing on it!”

We both laughed hysterically.

“Seriously, you didn’t know I was gay and interested in you?” Eric asked, his tone growing sincere.

I sighed and replied, “I have the world’s worst gaydar. Plus, I assumed that if you were gay, I wouldn’t appeal to you sexually.”

“Why not? You’re unbelievably handsome and sexy as hell!” Eric exclaimed, “I thought I had a lot of competition.”

“Thanks,” I said. “But honestly, I didn’t know. My best friend, David, often calls me a doofus for being clueless about guys trying to flirt with me.”

Eric and I shared a small laugh, and I continued, “In middle school and high school, I’d been teased a lot, which left me insecure in my appearance.

“I convinced myself that I was reading too much into the things you said and did. I knew we had become incredibly good friends, but anything beyond that was wishful thinking. I wished you were gay and attracted to me! Still, I would have been happy to have you as a very special friend, which you are.”

Eric brushed the back of his hand against my face, encouraging me to continue.

“What about you?” I asked. “There were times when I thought you might be interested, but then you would hesitate. I started to wonder if the 15-year age difference between us played a factor.”

“The age difference was—kind of,” Eric sighed. “My first relationship was just after college with a guy who was 18. He had a significant impact on me. I’ll tell you about it sometime. But he was nothing like you. With him, the age difference was obvious. I don’t feel it with you.”

“Same here.”

“It wasn’t fair to compare him to you. But sometimes, past experiences leave scars that run deeper than we realize.” Eric lifted my chin so I could look him in the eyes and said, “I guess we both have scars that affected our getting together.”

“It may have delayed the sexual aspect, but we got to know each other much better than most people before taking that step. And we have indisputably fallen in love,” I said with a wistful smile.

“My best friend, David, believes that a sexual relationship should be built on friendship. Those are the couples that tend to last.”

“Your friend, David, sounds like a very wise man,” Eric said.

I laughed and said, “David is quite a contradiction. He can be wise, but most of the time, he’s a bit unpredictable. However, he is genuinely a good guy. We’ve been friends since we were eight years old, and we’re closer than brothers. I think you’ll like each other.”

With affection, Eric looked into my eyes and said, “I would have been happy to accept you as a friend also, but I’m even more thrilled that we’ve become something more.”

Another session of kissing accompanied Eric’s comment. Oh, how I loved kissing him as if we were trying to give each other mouth-to-mouth resuscitation.

After surfacing for air, Eric asked teasingly, “So, are you really a virgin?”

“Yeah,” I replied guardedly.

“Well, we’ll have to see about changing that—soon!” Eric responded cheekily.

“I can’t wait,” I said, smiling. We shared another kiss. “No,” I emphasized, “I really can’t wait!”

Eric looked confused.

“I really need to pee!”

I climbed off Eric, and we both got off the couch. I loved the sensation of two men holding hands as he guided me to his bathroom.

“You go first,” Eric said with a laugh. “I’ve got to go too!”

I took my turn, followed by Eric. When he opened the door, I joked, “I bet this is why Neanderthals went extinct. The men had to pee after a night of sex and ended up getting killed by predators while relieving themselves in the dark.” I shook my head sadly and added, “The drive to procreate eventually led to their own species' demise.”

“You know something,” Eric said, pretending to be somber, “Connor Johnson possesses a strange sense of humor.”

I kissed him and replied, “Not nearly as strange as Eric Brooks’.”

I reached out, took hold of each of Eric’s large, protruding ears, and pulled his face closer to mine, giving him a big, wet kiss.

Eric looked amazed. “You know, while growing up, kids used to make fun of my ‘Dumbo’ ears. I became sensitive about them. But you grabbing them like that is one of the sexiest things I’ve ever experienced.” He leaned in to give me another kiss.

In that moment, it struck me: Eric and I were standing naked in the hallway, holding hands and kissing avidly. Eric and I had officially become a couple.

CHAPTER 10

Eric and I kissed for a while in the hallway until he said, “Come on. It's getting late. We should clean up, grab a quick bite to eat, and then I'll get you home.”

“I want to stay with you,” I replied sadly, “but I can’t. I still have to pack for my sister’s birthday trip tomorrow.”

Eric walked to the hall closet, took out two fresh towels, and headed toward the bathroom.

“I wouldn’t let Cathy down,” I said. “No matter how much I want to stay here and make love with you.”

Eric turned on the shower and adjusted the temperature. As he stepped in, he held out his hand for me to join him. We kissed as the water flowed over our bare bodies. We pressed our bodies together. Our raging hard-ons dug into our bellies as our hands explored each other.

I took Eric's rod in my hand and held it next to mine, comparing them - both prime examples of manhood. It felt entirely natural for men to be so aroused by each other.

After another deep kiss, Eric grabbed the bar of soap and began lathering my chest, working his way down to my hard dick. I was in heaven! He turned me around and applied lather to my back. As he reached my buttocks, Eric knelt down and lovingly applied soap between my cheeks. He slowly moved the bar of soap up and down, paying close attention to my hungry hole.

“I want you inside of me,” I said as I moved my body back and forth to push the soap deeper.

Eric stood up and removed the soap from my backside. He reached around my torso, grabbed my dick, and pulled my body firmly against his. He placed his erection between my thighs, just below my rear end. “And I want to be inside of you,” Eric whispered as he moved his rod rhythmically between my legs, “But we’ll have to wait. I don’t want our first time to be rushed.”

I whispered back, gasping, “I know.”

Eric removed his dick, turned me around, and handed me the soap. I began to lather his impressive chest, enjoying the sensation of my hands sliding through his soapy hair. I took my time exploring his abs and the hair trailing from his belly button. When our eyes met, I flashed a mischievous smile as I soaped his hard dick and gave it a few strokes. Eric returned my glance with his crooked grin as he turned around, revealing his back to me.

“Party pooper,” I joked as I soaped his back.

“You have a wonderful ass!” I exclaimed with genuine pleasure. “You don’t show it off, or your legs, in those shorts you ordinarily wear. You should! Did you wear those short shorts for me today?”

“Yeah,” Eric replied with a wicked grin, “I bought them last Sunday. I like how your shorts look; they show off your beautiful legs. I thought I’d try out shorter inseams to see if you’d notice.”

“I absolutely noticed!” I replied. “Yours is about 7 inches compared to my 6 inches.”

“That sounds about right from what I could see,” Eric said seductively. “Most of the time I had it in my mouth…”

“I was talking about our shorts…!” I replied.

“And I am talking about our…”

“I know what you were talking about!” I laughed

“Gee,” Eric said in a comical voice, “I wonder if we subconsciously chose inseam length because of our…”

“Dick size?” I interrupted. “If that’s true, I think you need shorts that are just a little bit longer.”

Eric let out a playful growl. “Grrrr. I love it when you talk dirty about clothes shopping!”

Eric and I rinsed each other off and stepped out of the shower. We paid particular attention to drying our erections with towels. Suddenly, Eric began to tickle my nipples. I laughed and begged him to stop. He paused, a satisfied grin on his face, and said, “I’ve found your kryptonite. Now I’ll win every argument!”

“Not if I get you first!” I yelled while relentlessly tickling the sides of Eric’s ribs.

“Okay, okay!” he exclaimed between giggles. “Let’s agree to never have arguments! We’re both too ticklish!”

Eric and I walked hand in hand to the living room to recover our clothes. I found myself captivated by the way Eric's erect penis bounced with each step. "Wow!" I thought, reflecting on what I might have missed by skipping middle school gym showers. I shook my head to dispel the fantasy as we dressed.

Standing beside me, Eric compared the length of our pants. “I love your legs! That’s one of the first things I noticed about you,” he said, before kissing me, “And I don’t think I could ever grow tired of kissing you.”

Before long, Eric and I found ourselves having a late lunch at a fast-food restaurant. We sat in a small booth, our legs stretched out comfortably under the table. Our feet were flat on the floor, and our hairy legs brushed against each other.

Eric asked if I would spend the next weekend at his place. "We could both leave work early on Friday," he suggested. "That way, we can make it a long weekend and take care of the virgin thing."

“You betcha!” I said, my face shining with happiness.

However, Eric's expression turned worried. “That leads me to a question: Do your parents know you’re gay?” he asked.

"No," I admitted. "I know, I know! I’m 18 and don’t need their permission to stay over at your place, but I'm still living at home. I have to follow their rules. They don’t pry, but they feel responsible for me since I live under their roof. They would worry if I didn’t come home for a few days. It’s only fair to let them know where I am. Besides, I want them to know about you; I’m proud that you’re my boyfriend.

“You’re probably wondering why I’ve waited two years to tell them I’m gay,” I continued. “It’s a big step, and even though I believe they’ll be cool with it, I’m still scared. What if…?”

Eric looked away, lost in thought, and said, “I understand. I absolutely do.”

“I’ll tell them on Tuesday since we’ll be on the road tomorrow and Monday. This will give me some time to think about how to approach it.”

“Do you want me to be there when you tell them about me?” Eric asked earnestly.

“No, it’s sweet of you to offer, but I need to do this on my own. I don’t expect any problems,” I said, "It’s just… a big change in our lives, and it's coming out of the blue…” I trailed off.

Eric drove me home. Saying goodbye proved difficult.

“Aloha,” Eric said, “It means hello and goodbye in Hawaii.”

“That’s beautiful!” I replied with a smile.

We exchanged “Alohas” and shared a quick kiss. As he drove away, we waved goodbye, and I unlocked the front door. I felt overwhelmed by how much my life had changed in just one day.

CHAPTER 11

I called David while packing for our family trip. He was ecstatic when I told him what had happened with Eric. I thanked him for encouraging me to express my emotions to Eric. David was curious about what led up to that significant moment, so I shared the story with him. He complimented me, giving me an A+ for the "smooth move with the footsie thing." While I didn't go into much detail about the sexual aspect, I did mention Eric and me sucking each other off and how incredible it had been.

I  let David know about my plans to spend the weekend with Eric. Also about my decision to come out to my parents. He gave me a pep talk and told me not to worry. Knowing my parents well, he believed they would take the news in stride. He wished me luck.

That night, I hardly got any sleep as my mind kept replaying the events between Eric and me. I felt amazingly happy. I woke up around two o'clock to realize I’d had a wet dream about Eric, with semen all over my boxer shorts, stomach, and bed sheets. In that moment, I was grateful that my parents let me handle my own laundry!

Morning arrived, and after energizing myself with a strong cup of coffee, I set off with my parents and sister to the amusement and wildlife park in another part of our state. We all had a wonderful time. My sister and I went on all the rides while Mom and Dad enjoyed watching us.

After celebrating my sister's birthday with a dinner, we checked into the hotel for the night. As part of her 13th birthday celebration, my parents allowed Cathy to have her own room, and she loved being treated like a "grown-up." I also had my own room.

After taking a shower, I got ready for bed, which meant putting on my boxer shorts with no shirt. While on the phone with Eric, I found myself wondering what he wore to bed each night. The thought of us both sleeping in the buff, snuggled together, excited me. The air conditioning blew cold air, which enveloped me, making my sensitive nipples erect. My hard-on was straining against my boxer shorts. Eric answered the phone, and I grew even harder. Golly, that man’s voice was as sexy as his body!!

After exchanging words of affection, I told Eric about my day. He was pleased to hear that Cathy was having a good birthday. Have I mentioned that Eric is a caring guy?

Then Eric asked me, “You mentioned last night how you postponed coming out to your parents for two years. Was that when you realized you were gay?”

I gave Eric a brief telling of how I came to accept my sexuality. I humorously referred to this turning point as the "Mr. Nipples incident" at the comic book shop.

Eric affected a tone of hurt and asked, “Were you waiting for ‘Mr. Nipples, when I first spoke to you?”

“Of course not, Mr. Nip… err, Eric!” I chuckled at my slip of the tongue, “You’re 150 percent better looking and far sexier than him!”

After we shared a laugh, Eric continued, “You mentioned that your experiences at school made you think no guy could find you attractive.”

“Yeah,” I replied, feeling a bit down as those memories resurfaced.

“Would you mind telling me more about it?” Eric asked. “You don’t have to  if you don’t want to. I’m just want to understand you better and learn what made you the wonderful man you are today. It sounds like quite a journey.”

“I don’t mind sharing,” I said. “I want to be honest about my life with you, and I’m eager to learn all about you, too.”

I shared my experiences of bullying at school with Eric, explaining the reasons for being teased. I recounted how some men tried to pick me up when I was a teenager and how I’d been oblivious to their intentions. I also included the incident with the assistant manager at the music shop in my story.

“Oh my!” Eric exclaimed. “No wonder he acted jealous when we ran into him at the mall!”

I chuckled and added, “I honestly didn’t realize he was flirting with me until I told David about it. I feel bad if he thought I was playing games or leading him on."

“Well, I can confidently say he has remarkable taste in men, my dear Connor,” Eric replied, trying to console me, “And ABBA is indeed a fabulous group. I love their music!”

I paused for a moment and then confessed, “The encounter in the mall with him? That’s when I realized I had fallen in love with you, Eric.”

“Interesting,” Eric mused. “Because at that moment, at long last, I understood how much I loved you, too. That, and when I took you home. I wanted to make a good impression on your parents. I’m so glad you entered my life. I love you so much!”

“What about you?” I asked Eric. “You’ve never told me about your family. I’d love to know when you realized you were gay and how you came out. If you are comfortable, I’d also like to hear about your first bad relationship – the one with the 18-year-old? As you said, I want to understand who you are and why I’ve fallen head over heels in love with you.”

There was an awkward silence before Eric replied. “I want to share all of that with you, too. It’s just that it’s getting late, and it’s going to be a long story—one better told in person.”

I wasn’t discouraged by Eric’s response. Something in his voice suggested that his story would be not only lengthy but also emotional. I loved and trusted him and wanted to give him the space he needed until he was ready. After we hung up, I got some much-needed sleep. Tomorrow promised to be another long yet enjoyable day with my family.

On Monday, we spent the day at the park's wildlife division. My sister loves animals and wanted to be a zoologist when she grew up. We had a fantastic time! We got home a bit late, but there was still time to talk with Eric. I told him about the park, explaining that it offered more than just a zoo; there was also a safari that took you through the natural habitat called the "African Adventure.” Eric thought it would be a swell place for us to visit together. It struck me how much we still had to learn about each other’s likes, dislikes, and interests, but I looked forward to that journey.

We didn’t talk for long since both Eric and I had to work in the morning. However, he made me promise to call him after I “came out” to my mom the next day. Eric reassured me that he would be with me in spirit. We said our goodbyes with an "Aloha," and I fell asleep almost at once.

CHAPTER 12

On Tuesdays, my mom worked half days at the library, and my sister was usually at a friends’ houses. I thought this would be the best day to make my “coming out of the closet” announcement. I considered sending my mom a formal invitation as it would be proper etiquette. However, I realized I was simply overthinking things to avoid the inevitable.

I decided to leave work an hour early to talk to my mom. To make myself as comfortable as possible, I changed into shorts and a t-shirt and went barefoot.

“Mom, could I talk to you for a while? It’s kind of important.” No matter how you say it, those words always come out sounding ominous.

My mom was seated in her usual chair, while I sat cross-legged on the couch, feeling nervous.

“Well, I’m just going to come out and say it,” I said, my heart racing. “I’m gay, and Eric and I are in a relationship.”

“I know,” she replied calmly.

I was stunned and stammered, “How did you know?”

Patiently, and with a playful smile on her face, my mom answered, “I’ve always known. Since you were a little boy.”

I sat there, looking like a deer in the headlights, so my mom continued, “They often say that a mother knows long before the child. It’s not anything in your behavior—I guess it’s instinct.”

“Does Dad know?”

“No. Well, yes. We’ve never talked much about it. It’s sort of a non-issue. You’re our son, and we’d love and support you even if you were bitten by a radioactive spider and became a superhero.”

“Mommm!” I said.

“Did I get the origin story right?” she laughed.

I chuckled, “Yes.”

“When did you realize you were gay?”

I took a deep breath and said, “I guess I always knew but pushed it aside. I accepted it shortly after my 16th birthday.”

“I don’t mean to pry,” my mom said carefully, “but is Eric your first relationship?”

I laughed ironically. “First relationship? Heck, he was also my first date!” I became concerned and asked, “How did you know about Eric?”

“You told us a lot about him from the very first day you met. It was pretty obvious to me that you were falling in love.”

“I didn’t realize I had shared that much,” I said, with embarrassment.

My mom laughed and reassured me, “Don’t worry; you never said anything embarrassing.”

“Are you worried about the 15-year age difference between Eric and me?”

“Connor, if you were anyone else, I might be concerned. However, you've demonstrated maturity beyond your years since you were seven. I know you’ve considered the age difference before getting serious with Eric. I trust your judgment. Based on the one time we met him, my gut feeling is that he would never intentionally do anything to hurt you.” My mom paused for a moment. “And yes, I could see the love plainly written all over his face, too.”

My mom and I stood and hugged. I started crying. We sat down on the couch together, and for a moment, I felt like a little kid who’d just fallen off the swing set, being comforted in my mom’s arms.

“Would you tell Dad for me?” I asked, wiping away my tears. “I’m afraid he’s going to be disappointed in me.”

“Believe me, honey, he won’t be,” she said with a smile. “But I understand your feelings. Yes, I’ll tell him, but be prepared—he’s going to want to talk to you afterward. There’s something personal he’ll want to share.”

I was curious but accepted my mom’s statement. We sat there in each other’s arms for a long time.

“What about Cathy?” I asked, worried.

“Don’t worry, I’ll talk to her about it and let you know,” my mom replied.

I asked my mom if I could skip dinner. The reveal had been less emotional than feared, but I had lost my appetite knowing my dad would want to talk to me later.

As soon as Eric got home, I called him. He listened quietly as I shared my story. When I finished, he expressed how happy he was for me and even started to cry. He was more emotional than expected. I told him how much I loved him, and we stayed on the phone for quite a while, reassuring each other that we remained there for one another. We hung up when my dad knocked on my door. I promised Eric that I would call him as soon as I could.

My dad came in and asked if he could sit down. I said sure. I sat cross-legged at the head of my bed, while he sat at the foot of it.

“Your mom told me about your conversation earlier,” he began. “First, I want to say that I’m not disappointed in you at all. In fact, I’m proud of you—proud of the man you’ve become. I know it wasn’t easy for you to accept that you are gay, and I understand that coming out was even harder.

“Like your mom, I suspected you were gay since you were a little boy.”

I shifted uncomfortably on my bed.

“Don’t worry; you’ve always acted ‘straight,’ not that it matters. I knew—I knew because of my own personal experience.”

The surprise must have been evident on my face, but I sensed that he needed to express himself without interruptions from me.

“Your Uncle Bill, my older brother, was gay,” my dad said, his emotion starting to show. “He knew he was gay at age 13 and began having relationships then as well.

“Mom and Pop, your Gran and Granddad, weren’t the most attentive parents. They were pretty aloof with your Uncle Bill and me as we grew up. One thing they didn’t hesitate to share with us was their religious views—and how disgusting they thought gay people were.” My dad choked up. I remained still; you could hear a pin drop.

“My older brother and I were very close,” he continued. “In many ways, Bill was the dad I didn’t have growing up. He taught me how to play baseball, attended all my games, helped me with my homework, and cooked dinner since Mom and Pop were typically working. He was also the one who had that father-son talk with me about men and women. I looked up to him, and he knew he could trust me with his secret about being gay.

“Bill was very active sexually. Your friend David reminds me of him in that way.”

My dad and I shared a laugh.

"I always suspected that the reason Bill slept with so many men was in a search to find the love our parents couldn't provide. He longed for a father figure, just as he had been for me. I don't know what I would have done growing up without him.

“I covered for him throughout his school years,” my dad continued, with a faraway look, as if reliving those times. "I maintained the charade with our parents about Bill’s girlfriends. I was the only person who actually met those girls, but our parents never found that strange. I covered for him when he slept over at someone’s house, saying that Bill called and was staying at a friend’s place. Mom and Pop never found out.

“Bill was an extremely good-looking teenager and very athletic. The girls practically swooned over him, and obviously, so did men. Bill excelled on the school baseball team and was always on the honor roll. He received a baseball scholarship and went off to college. That’s when things changed. He realized he wasn’t a kid anymore, and being gay in the adult world scared him. I also think a very bad experience occurred with one of the men he slept with. After he left home, Bill and I weren't as close, so I don’t know what really happened.

“Bill decided he did not want to be gay anymore. There were too many problems associated with it, and he was afraid it would affect his future career. He was pursuing a degree in accounting, just like you and Eric, by the way.” Dad laughed softly. “He told me to never talk about his past sexuality and to forget it ever happened.

“He claimed he was straight now, but he never dated a woman. He avoided anything related to sexuality. His life became all about work, work, work. He once had a wacky sense of humor, but that was gone now, too. I believe the internal conflict and constant working contributed to his heart attack. We lost him too young.

"I’ve always believed that he led an unhappy life," my dad concluded. "That’s how I realized you were gay when you were a kid. I lived with Bill and knew many of his boyfriends, so what you call my ‘gaydar’ became quite keen. I’m so proud of you, Connor. I want you to have a better life than Bill did."

By now, my father and I were both in tears. I moved to the foot of the bed, and we hugged each other for a long time. I don’t think I’ve ever loved my father more than I did at that moment. He was indeed a remarkable man. I know my dad probably experienced a lot of guilt for not being able to help his brother lead a better life.

“One last thing,” Dad said, “Like your mother, I’m not worried about the age difference between you and Eric. I trust that you both have thought it through. I’m looking forward to getting to know him better; he seems like a great guy.”

“However, as your father, I must caution you… First love can be quite intoxicating, and that’s why they are called ‘first’ love. I believe that both you and Eric are mature enough to recognize any challenges that may arise and handle them wisely. That’s all I have to say, other than that I love you, Connor. I’m proud of the man you’ve become and proud to have you as my son.”

We hugged for a long time, and then he left, mentioning that he knew Eric was probably waiting to hear from me.

My dad was right; Eric was eager to hear how everything went. My mind raced as I tried to process everything that had happened with my parents. It was Tuesday night, and my life had been changing almost nonstop since Saturday afternoon. I gave Eric a brief overview of the situation. Because of the late hour, I promised to share more details the following evening. I sensed that Eric was relieved to postpone the discussion until that night. He had become more emotional than I expected when I shared my uncle's story with him. It was clear that "coming out" was a crucial part of the narrative Eric wanted to share about his own family—likely not a positive one.

The next day, when I got home from work, my mom told me she had talked to my sister about me being gay and about Eric being my boyfriend. To our surprise, Cathy hadn’t been phased at all. In fact, she had known I was gay her whole life. She figured it was just something no one wanted to discuss. It seemed that at the age of 13, she understood more about sexuality than my mom and I expected. Some of her friends had older siblings who were gay, so she was accustomed to it and understood that families handled it in different ways. She was happy for me and said it was about time I had a boyfriend. Well, what do you know? Out of the mouths of babes!

That night, my conversation with Eric delved deeper into my experiences with my mom and dad, as well as my Uncle Bill’s story. Eric wasn’t as emotional as the night before, and he was glad to hear that my sister was doing well. He commented, “She seems almost as unique as her older brother!” However, he was concerned about how I was coping with all the changes I’d faced since Saturday afternoon. It was like he could read my mind! What a guy – and he was mine!

We made plans for Friday. Both of us decided to leave work two hours early, and he would pick me up at my house. From there… well, we both knew what we wanted!

Thursday night’s call with Eric was brief. We were both exhausted from the emotional rollercoaster of the past week. We were a bit nervous about what would happen over the weekend.

Eric surprised me when he said, “It’s your first time. Sex should be pleasurable for both men. Don’t do it if it doesn’t feel comfortable. A bad first experience could put you off sex for a long time. I’ll understand.”

Once again, I was amazed to have such a caring boyfriend!

On Friday, I got home early and finished packing my overnight bag. Eric arrived ahead of schedule and rang the doorbell. My mom directed him to my room.

Eric greeted me with, “Aloha!”

I said “Aloha” in return.

“You're wearing glasses!” Eric exclaimed, surprised.

My glasses were rectangular with stylish black horned rims and clear bottom frames. “Oh, yeah, I typically wear contact lenses,” I explained. “Since I don’t wear them to bed at night and we’re planning to spend a lot of time in bed…” I added suggestively.

“I must say, you look stud-ious, sir,” Eric responded, emphasizing the word “stud.”

“Don’t you mean ‘studious’?” I asked.

“No, I mean ‘stud’—as in you are a stud, sir!” Eric friskily growled, wrapping his arms around my waist and kissing me.

“You're silly, but that’s one of the reasons I love you!” I said with a smile as I finished packing my overnight bag while Eric looked around my room. He was amazed by my collection of comic books, superhero, and science fiction action figures. Then, Eric spotted a small bookcase in my closet filled with loose-leaf notebooks, paper, and well-used legal pads covered in handwriting, most of which had Post-it notes stuck haphazardly over them.

“What are all of these?” he asked.

“These are my writing projects,” I replied, my voice tinged with uncertainty.

“Writing?” Eric sounded surprised.

“Yeah, I’ve always wanted to be a writer. These include story ideas, outlines, and even a few first drafts of novels I’ve written.”

Eric picked up a legal pad and started browsing through it. “These look interesting. Are they all mysteries and horror?”

“Pretty much,” I nodded.

Eric appeared puzzled. “Why are you pursuing a degree in accounting instead of writing?”

“Writing doesn’t pay the bills unless I get very lucky. I can only afford one shot at college, and accounting is the more practical option.

“Don’t get me wrong,” I added, “No one forced me into this choice. I enjoy accounting. I continue to write whenever I can.”

“Do you mind if I read some of your writing sometime?” Eric asked hesitantly.

“Sure! I would appreciate your feedback.”

I grabbed my overnight bag and said, “I’m ready.” We exchanged a quick kiss and headed out the door.

My mom and sister were waiting for us in the living room. It was like Eric and I were participants in the annual running of the bulls in Spain.

I must admit that Eric and I made a striking couple. We were both still dressed for work; he wore a blue suit and tie, while I wore dress pants and a red tie. My mom and sister appeared dazzled by our appearance.

As soon as we left the house, I turned to Eric and said, “Considering our plans include me losing my virginity, I was terrified Mom might say something like, ‘Have a good time!’ or ‘Have fun, guys!’ when we left. I would’ve been mortified!”

I tossed my overnight bag into the back seat, and as soon as I was seated, we kissed. I didn’t care if anyone saw us. We’d been apart for five days, and it had been torturous for both of us.

CHAPTER 13

When we arrived at Eric's house, he asked me to place my overnight bag on the recliner. He then tossed his jacket on top of it. After that, he delicately removed both my glasses and his own, setting them on the coffee table. Next, he bent down, untied his shoes, and tossed them near the TV. I followed his lead and did the same with my shoes.

“Come here,” Eric said.

We stood in the living room, facing each other with tender smiles. Eric and I loosened each other’s ties, grasped the ends, and pulled ourselves closer to kiss. Only we could turn such a romantic moment into a slapstick comedy, as our heads accidentally collided instead. The moment was only lacking the sound of coconuts striking together.

“Preee-senting,” I pronounced, “The new comedy duo of Brooks & Johnson!”

We burst into hearty laughter.

Eric grabbed one end of his tie and pulled it off, making a whip-like sound. He grinned mischievously.

I took off my tie and tossed it onto the chair. Eric and I began unbuttoning each other’s shirts, pausing to unbutton our cuffs before taking off our dress shirts. I raised my arms as Eric removed the white t-shirt underneath, and he did the same for himself. We studied each other’s bare torsos appreciatively. I stood in awe of his broad shoulders, biceps, and pectoral muscles. I felt insignificant in comparison, but Eric’s expression showed that he admired my body just as much as I admired his. He tenderly ran the back of one of his knuckles up and down my chest.

I unbuckled his belt and unfastened his pants while Eric did the same with mine. We both pulled off our pants and removed our socks at the same time. Without hesitation, we took off our underwear as well, tossing it aside to join the rest of our clothes on the recliner.

Eric and I stood facing each other, naked and aroused. I took his erection in hand and began rubbing it against mine when Eric suddenly exclaimed, “Enough of this!” He picked me up in his arms and carried me to the master bedroom.

I struggled and cried out, “What are you doing?” However, I couldn't help but burst into laughter when Eric replied, “This is taking too long.” I relaxed and enjoyed being held in his strong arms. Once in the bedroom, Eric tossed me onto his king-size bed, jumped in beside me, and then lay on top of me.

“Now I’ve got you exactly where you wanted me,” he said in a husky voice. I smiled at his playful pun and felt the warmth of our bodies pressed together. Eric and I shared a passionate kiss as we tumbled over each other on the bed. Our hard cocks pressed against each other as our hands explored each other's masculine curves and contours.

We stopped rolling around, with Eric landing on top of me, still kissing as if there were no tomorrow. I lifted my legs and wrapped them around his hips, pulling his lower body against mine. We moved our bodies together, rhythmically pressing hard-ons against each other. Eric placed his hard dick between my upper thighs and began to thrust.

“I want you to fuck me,” I pleaded.

“Are you certain?” Eric whispered in my ear. “The first few times will hurt.”

“I’m absolutely sure!”

Eric lifted his face from mine and said, “I’ll make it as gentle as possible.”

He instructed me to get on my knees, resting my head and arms on the bed. "You have a beautiful, hairy ass!" he exclaimed before massaging my buttocks with his large hands, spreading them open and exposing my hungry hole.

He started to rim me, his tongue teasing my anus. Since it was late in the day, he had a five o'clock shadow, and the stubble from his beard tickled my skin. Eric let out a series of "Mmmmmm" sounds as I responded with soft "Ohhhh!" sounds with each lick.

Eric finished his work with his tongue and leaned over to grab a pump container of lubricant from the bedside table. At that moment, I realized he had prepared the bed before leaving for work. A beach towel lay over the bed with a couple of smaller towels nearby. Noticing that I had just made that connection, he smirked and said, “I was a Boy Scout. Be prepared!”

Eric applied the cold lubricant to my ass. “I’m going to loosen you up,” he said. “It'll make it easier for you.” He slowly inserted his lubricated index finger into me, moving it in circles as well as in and out. The sensation took my breath away. I felt the penetration, experiencing a strange mix of discomfort and pleasure. A moan escaped my lips.

"I'm going to use two fingers now," he said. "So, you will feel this more than before." He inserted them, moving in and out as he slowly twisted them. Eric asked, "How are you doing?"

Though there was some discomfort, I whispered, "Fine."

Eric applied some fresh lubricant to me. When I turned my head, I saw him lubricating his penis. The realization that his erect member was substantially larger than his two fingers must have been evident on my face.

Eric pressed his chest against my back and whispered in my ear, “It will start off feeling good, but my dick will meet some resistance, and you’ll experience a little pain. It's natural for your body to try to push the 'invader' out. When that happens, I want you to say ‘Stop,’ and I’ll hold in place while your body adjusts. You'll need to help with that adjustment. When you feel your body pushing back, take a deep breath and relax your hole. Once I sense that you're relaxed and hear you say ‘Okay,’ I’ll move forward again.”

"I trust you absolutely," I said, speaking truthfully.

"I'm going to put my fingers inside you again so we can practice," Eric said.

When I felt the resistance, I relaxed my body. “That’s it, I can feel you relaxing,” Eric said. “Just remember not to panic and to stay relaxed.” He leaned closer, kissed me on the lips, and then kissed me down my sinewy back. After that, he returned to his kneeling position behind me and said, “Here we go.”

Eric placed the round head of his penis on my anus and started to insert it. He paused and asked, “Are you okay?”

"I’m fine," I said, attempting to conceal my nervousness.

Eric pushed further in, and I winced. “Stop,” I said, taking a deep breath in an effort to relax. After a moment, I responded, “Okay.”

The pain was intense, but I remained determined to endure it. I gripped the beach towel rigidly, but finally, I said, “Stop.” Eric halted, and I realized I had lost my erection.

“Take a deep breath and remember that it’s me, Eric, the man who loves you, entering you,” he said softly, “Being together - as one.”

His reassuring words made me smile and helped me relax. “Okay,” I replied.

Eric adjusted his position to get closer and gave one final push. Suddenly, I felt him penetrate me, and all resistance from my body faded away. An intense mix of pain and pleasure washed over me. Eric held his position, pressing his chest against my back to steal a kiss.

My mind raced as I processed the situation. After all those years of believing that no man would be attracted to me, one had declared his love for me. I had ignited his desires, and he was inside me, and enjoying it! My erection had returned.

“Eric, I can’t believe you’re inside of me,” I said, choking back tears. “I love you so much!”

"I've wanted you for so long!" Eric exclaimed. "I love you, Connor!"

Eric moved his hard dick in and out. Every few thrusts, he would pull further out, then push in harder, all the while increasing his speed. The sensation when his cock hit my prostate sent waves of pleasure throughout my entire body. It was as if Eric’s dick would break through that barrier and plunge right into my hard-on, causing us both to explode in cum!

“I want to see your face,” Eric declared. He pulled his erection out and instructed me to roll over onto my back. Placing a pillow under my hips and lower back, he adjusted my position to make it easier for him to fuck me. Instinctively, I lifted and spread my legs. Our eyes met, shining as brightly as our smiles.

Eric held my legs in the air to give him access to my eager hole. He released one leg to allow his other hand to guide his manhood into my ass. It hurt like before, but not as much. My eagerness for his penetration overshadowed the pain.

Eric pushed his cock deep inside and resumed his pelvic thrusts. I smiled as I admired his well-muscled body. Black hair trailed from Eric’s navel, disappearing behind my erection and into the space where our bodies joined.

I was surprised to hear myself gasp, “Harder!” I was truly getting into being fucked by Eric.

Eric began to thrust faster, grunting like an animal with each movement, while I moaned in ecstasy. He released my legs and leaned over me, allowing us to kiss enthusiastically. I wrapped my legs around him, aiding his forward thrusts. Eric’s low-hanging balls slapped against my rear.

It was too much for me to handle. I shouted, "I'm cuming!"

Eric resumed holding my legs and thrusted harder as I blew my load. I shot all over my stomach, chest, neck, face, and even onto the beach towel.

My cuming brought Eric to his climax. I observed his upper chest near his neck turn red as he shouted that he was cuming. “Cum inside me,” I begged, “I want you to cume inside me!”

Eric closed his eyes, made a hard plunge, and cried out, “Ohhhh!” His hips pressed against me as I felt his cock spasming within me. His warm semen filled me. Eric began fucking me again, and I could feel the jiz he’d released stream out of my hole with each thrust he made.

Remaining inside of me, Eric leaned over, and we kissed so intensely that I was surprised we didn't bruise each other's lips. Finally, Eric lifted himself off me and lay down next to me. He rested one of his legs across mine, our dicks now flaccid, resting on our abdomens. We intertwined our fingers loosely. We could only lie there, panting and out of breath.

I had lost my virginity. “Aloha – as in goodbye.”

CHAPTER 14

“You were fantastic!” Eric exclaimed as he and I lay side by side on his bed. “I have never experienced sex as incredible as I did with you. It wasn’t just our bodies coming together; it was our souls. I can’t quite find the words to describe it.”

“I swear, for a few minutes there,” I responded, “it was like we were one person. It was strange yet beautiful.” I looked into his loving brown eyes. “And it was you who were fantastic. You made my first time both gentle and fiery. Thank you!”

“I guess this is what sex is like when you genuinely love one another,” Eric said, giving me a light kiss. But as often happens with us, our mouths opened and our tongues started exploring each other’s mouths! In due course, we collapsed again, breathless, and lay in silence, smiling at one another.

“How do you feel?” Eric asked. “Sore?”

“Yeah,” I replied. “Well, to be honest, it hurts.”

“I’m so sorry, Connor,” Eric said, concern evident in his voice.

“Don’t apologize. It was worth having you inside me. And for you to cume inside me... just saying that eases the pain." I looked into his eyes and continued, “I wouldn’t trade this for anything in the world! I love you, Mr. Brooks!”

“And I love you, Mr. Johnson!” he replied.

Eric got out of bed and took my hand, guiding me to follow him.

“Why don’t you go to the bathroom?” he suggested. “Your body is probably trying to expel the invasion of my dick, the lube, and cum. "Take as much time as you need."

Eric squeezed my hand. “I’ll use the other bathroom and then hang up our work clothes.” He walked over to the dresser in his bedroom. “When you’re ready, you can grab your bag and put away your things. I’ll bring your glasses in here for you when I get mine. I cleared out the top drawer for you, and there’s plenty of space in the closet with hangers. Just put your toothbrush and other items wherever you like in this bathroom.”

“Thank you,” I said, planting a kiss on Eric.

When I finished in the bathroom and walked out to the living room to grab my bag, I found Eric cooking dinner. After unpacking, I joined Eric in the kitchen. We were both barefoot, wearing shorts and t-shirts. I couldn’t help but notice Eric’s legs. “You got new shorts!” I exclaimed. “Six-inch inseams, if I’m not mistaken!” Eric twirled around to show off his new look. “See? I told you that you have heroic legs!” I laughed. “And the shorts look tighter, too. Just look at that delicious butt of yours!” I purred like a cat as I kissed him.

I leaned against the counter to stay out of Eric’s way while he cooked. He asked me, “Do you cook?”

I laughed and replied, “No, not when you live at home with a mom who thrives on cooking. But I’d like to learn how.”

With a comical French accent, Eric exclaimed, “We have taken care of your virginity! Next, we shall see what we can do about teaching you to cook. I mean in the kitchen,” he added with a salacious French laugh, “You already know how to cook in the bedroom, n'est-ce pas?”

“Oui," I laughed in agreement.

Dinner was wonderful! Eric is an excellent cook. He prepared medium-rare steaks, cooked to perfection, alongside butter and salt-covered baked potatoes and hand-seasoned greens. We enjoyed our meal by candlelight, taking moments to hold hands and gaze into each other’s eyes.

After helping Eric clear the dishes and clean the kitchen, we settled onto the sofa to watch some television. We watched a game show full of pop culture references. Eric was once again amazed that, at just 18 years old, I was familiar with so many references from before my time.

Though the shows we watched might not have been the most romantic selection, the way we held each other—our arms and legs intertwined—more than compensated for it. I felt such a thrill with Eric’s body pressed so closely against mine.

Once the movie ended, I pretended to yawn and said, “Well, Mr. Brooks, I’m tired. We should probably go to bed and get some sleep.”

“Bed, yes!” Eric replied, with a cheeky grin, he added, “Sleep, no!”

“Come this way, Mr. Johnson!” Eric said, taking my hand and leading me to the bedroom. He pointed to the bathroom and told me to change for bed. “And don’t come out until I call for you,” he added.

I suspected he was up to something. After exchanging our precious bodily fluids, it seemed too late for modesty while changing clothes. In time, Eric called for me. I was dressed in my usual sleep attire—loose-fitting boxers. I turned off the bathroom light and stepped into a transformed bedroom. The lights were off, and every table in the room was adorned with burning candles. The flickering light and shadows created a mystical atmosphere.

I saw that the comforter on the bed had been removed, and the sheets turned down. Leaning back against the headboard, Eric sat, wearing nothing but the mischievous smile I so loved. He motioned for me to come closer, his erection visible as he waved his hand.

"This way, Mr. Johnson," Eric said enticingly.

I took off my glasses and placed them on the bedside table alongside his. I wasted no time removing my boxer shorts and climbed into bed with him. My cock now aroused, I knelt over him and planted a big, wet kiss on his mouth. I didn’t know what he had in mind, but I felt comfortable enough with Eric to take charge this time.

I kissed and traced my tongue along Eric's body. I spent considerable time playing with his erect nipples before moving down to his navel. As I reached his groin area, I shifted my focus to his large, hanging testicles. Sucking on them made Eric cry out, “Connor! Oh… oh!” His cries grew louder when I grasped his member and began leisurely jacking him off.

I moved my tongue up and down his dick, causing Eric to shudder when I flicked my tongue against his beautiful, huge, round cock head. I took the first few inches of his rod into my mouth and sucked it as if my life depended on it. Eric trembled with pleasure. I opened my mouth wider and took Eric’s entire dick into my mouth, down to the hilt. His pubic hair tickled my nose.

Eric joked, “My, what a large mouth you have, sir.”

“The better to swallow your enormous cock with, my dear!” I replied, laughing as I engulfed him again.

“I knew you were a wolf!” Eric moaned, his voice filled with pleasure.

I stopped for a moment and said throatily, “I want to eat you all up!”

Eric sat up and adjusted our positions so we lay side by side, upside down from one another – marking my first experience with the 69-position. We eagerly sucked each other's cocks.

Before I could say anything, I climaxed in Eric’s mouth. As before, he swallowed all of my cum, then continued sucking to extract every drop of it.

“Good to the last drop!” Eric laughed, then turned onto his back, positioning his erection before my face. I went down on him, alternating sucking and jerking his cock until he screamed with pleasure and began shooting down my throat. This time, I was prepared, and I swallowed all his semen by breathing through my nose. I kissed Eric and shared the cum in my mouth with him. Afterward, we lay in each other’s arms, never wanting to let go.

After a moment, Eric spoke up. “Connor?”

“Yeah?” I replied.

“You know I haven’t told you much about my family?” he asked.

“Yes, I remember,” I said.

“It’s not that I didn’t want to,” Eric explained. “Like I mentioned, it’s quite a long story, and… I’m just more comfortable sharing it in person.”

“That’s okay. I understand,” I assured Eric.

“I’m ready,” Eric said hesitantly. “Let’s go to the bathroom and then meet back in bed.”

CHAPTER 15

Eric and I sat cross-legged, facing each other in bed, our knees just touching. We both dressed as if ready for bed, in only baggy boxer shorts. Eric took my hands in his, and I squeezed them as a sign of encouragement.

After taking a deep breath, Eric began, “My parents are dead. It’s been a few years now. But... I might as well just say it... My parents disowned me when I was 19 because I’m gay.”

“Oh, Eric,” I replied, “I’m so sorry.”

“I guess it’s easier to start at the beginning,” he continued quietly as we held each other’s hands.

"I realized I was gay at age 13. Like you, I had been attracted to guys for as long as I could remember, but it was at that age that I was able to name my emotions.

“There were crushes on teachers, fellow students, and TV stars, but I never shared those feelings. The couple living next door were in their 20s. The man was quite attractive—tall, with blond hair, blue eyes, and a hairy chest and legs. He had a muscular build, and when he mowed the lawn, he wore only tennis shoes and tight cutoff jeans that fit him so tightly, they might as well have been spray-painted on. The bulge of his cock and balls – let’s just say he was well-endowed! I often found excuses to go outside just to discreetly observe him. When he washed his car, he looked marvelous! When his shorts got wet, they left barely anything to the imagination. I had wet dreams about his wet body!” Eric laughed.

"After a few years of being neighbors, he and his wife moved away. I found myself gazing at guys in the mall and the park instead.” Eric chuckled. “It’s not what you think. I took up jogging. Everyone jogged in that park, and it was surprising how many guys jogged wearing only sneakers and very short shorts—including me. In my teens, I had a mature physique, and it was a big turn-on when a gay man would check me out! I know, it sounds like a tease, but I was still young and immature.

“I wasn’t looking for sex. Even then, I understood that I wanted a relationship, and that hook-ups weren't the best way to find one. So, I did window shopping instead. I had another reason for my cautious approach: my parents were particularly prejudiced. They had strong views on race, color, creed, religion, politics, and… homosexuality. I wasn’t about to let anyone know my secret.”

I soothingly stroked Eric’s hairy leg in reassurance.

"My parents had me later in life, and they weren’t prepared for the responsibilities of having a child. My dad was a broker, while my mom did a lot of volunteer work. We weren’t wealthy, but money wasn’t a concern for us. I didn’t want for anything, except affection from my parents. I know, it sounds like we’re characters in a bad TV movie. For the most part, they left me to my own devices. Rules existed, of course, but they encouraged me to be self-reliant. That’s how I learned to cook—since they weren’t around, I needed to do it on my own.

"Don’t get me wrong; we did have family time. We traveled extensively across the U.S. and Europe, and it was wonderful to see those places. However, I think the foremost reason they took me along was that they saw me more as an independent little adult than as their child. I loved them because they were my parents, and I thought they loved me in their own way. But it was more like, they “appreciated me”. They appreciated my good grades, awards, and my ability to take care of myself!

"I lost my virginity at age 16. There was a guy in my Mass Media class named Marvin. One of our assignments was to create our own short films. Marvin invited me to team up with him. Many students in the class paired up for this task. The fact that Marvin was drop-dead gorgeous and had a body that made me look punny unquestionably influenced my decision. I assumed him straight since he had dated a girl the previous year, but I still enjoyed looking at him.

After working at his house after school for a few days, Marvin unexpectedly asked me if I wanted to masturbate together. He had gotten a pornographic magazine that he was excited about. I agreed. I knew that straight guys sometimes explored their sexuality in this way during their teenage years, so I thought, why not?

“Marvin unzipped his pants and whipped his dick out. It was soft, but man, was it gigantic – long and thick. He opened the magazine, and to my surprise, all the pictures were of men. Men posing, men solo, and men having rabid sex! Marvin called me a slowpoke, so I unzipped my pants and took out my penis, which was already hard after seeing his dick.

If I thought Marvin’s cock was enormous while flaccid, that was nothing compared to seeing it hard! I joined him in jerking off, and soon we both shot cum all over the place. If you think I’m a shooter, Marvin was a champion in both volume and distance! As soon as he finished cuming, he tucked cock back into his pants and resumed working on the project. I remained seated with my dick still in hand, trying to process what had just occurred. We’d just shared what I thought was an intimate moment, yet he treated it as if nothing had happened.

The next day, Marvin asked if I wanted to masturbate again. Of course, I said yes! This time, however, he took off all his clothes and was already erect. I assumed I was missing something about gay sexual practices, so I undressed as well. Marvin grabbed my head and forced me into his crotch. As you would expect, I tried to give him a blowjob. However, as I mentioned before, I was literally just blowing on his cock!”

Eric and I shared a laugh about this.

“Having the definition of a blow job explained to me, Marvin forced me to swallow his dick. You know I have a large mouth, Connor, but I couldn’t take his hard cock down my throat. Marvin thrust his hard-on into my mouth while forcing my head down to swallow it. I kept gagging, but he was relentless.”

“Oh, Eric!” I exclaimed.

“That’s why I apologized to you when I inadvertently did that to you last week,” Eric said remorsefully. I took Eric’s hands again to comfort him.

“Fortunately, Marvin cummed right away, shooting all over my face and chest. He handed me a towel and dressed long before I could. While he returned to focusing on the project, I still sat naked on his bed, wondering why he wasn't giving me a reciprocal blow job. Was there something wrong with me? Marvin had always been such an agreeable guy at school, and while working together. So, I couldn't understand what had brought out this aggressive callousness in him. I should have called it quits then, but I was 16, horny, and he was a hunk—so I decided to go over to his house again the next day.

“This time, there was no preamble of working on the project. As soon as we entered Marvin's room, he gave me an open-mouth kiss with plenty of tongue. It was exhilarating. He took off his clothes and instructed me to do the same. He lay me on my stomach and announced he was going to fuck me. I replied, "Okay." I wanted to lose my virginity. Then, without any lubrication or preparation, Marvin stuck his massive, hard cock into my ass! I screamed and began to cry. He told me not to be a pussy! He fucked me deep and hard, like a jackrabbit. I didn’t say stop or anything because I thought this was what I was supposed to do. “Take it like a man,” I thought. Mercifully, Marvin cummed inside of me quickly, and I got the hell out of there.

“They say bigger is better? Ain’t true! It’s about how you use it, and he didn’t use his giant dick responsibly.”

Tears streamed down my and Eric’s faces. I uncrossed my legs and hugged Eric securely, trying to ease his emotional pain. I spooned him, holding him close while he wrapped his arms around mine.

"It wasn’t a good experience," Eric said after taking a moment to gather his thoughts. "That’s why I wanted to be so careful with you the first time. That afternoon turned me off sex for years. I remained attracted to guys, but I had no interest in being sexually involved with anyone again."

“What happened with Marvin?” I asked.

“He acted as if nothing unusual had occurred. I dropped out of the class and never spoke to him again. His family moved away a couple of years later, and I don’t know where he is now—or even care.”

“Geez! That’s horrible!”

"One thing I've learned since coming out and getting to know the gay scene is that some guys can be very selfish and prefer rough encounters. This behavior isn’t exclusive to gay men; it applies to straight guys as well." Eric paused to gather his thoughts. "But something else happened that made me swear off ever having sex with a guy again."

CHAPTER 16

I held Eric in my arms as he gathered his thoughts and continued sharing the story of his coming out.

"It was time for the junior prom," Eric began. "There were two guys, Andrew and Jack, who everyone knew were gay and in a relationship. Neither the students nor the administration cared; they treated them like regular people. I knew them, but never shared my own sexuality with them.

“They planned to go to the junior prom together. However, when some parents found out, they made a fuss. The school stood its ground, but the parents decided to go to the local news channel. The story that aired was disgusting; they twisted everything around for ratings. More parents in the town joined the protest, and my parents were at the forefront of it.”

I held Eric tighter and said, “You don’t have to tell me anymore. This is too hard for you.”

Eric let go of my hand, and we lay facing each other, our hands entwined.

"It’s okay, Connor," he said. "I want you to know. You need to understand everything about me—everything that shaped me into who I am today. I want to share my life with you, with no secrets." He kissed me and then continued.

“I saw my parents in a whole new light when this happened. While I knew they held prejudiced views, I didn’t realize how ugly they could be.

“My parents, along with others, made life hell for these guys and their families. As a result, they decided not to attend prom, and Jack's family moved away to escape the hostility. Andrew stayed behind and kept a low profile during his senior year. I tried to apologize to him for my parents' role in the situation, but he distanced himself from everyone.

"After my awful sexual experience with Marvin and witnessing my parents' hostility towards gay individuals, I not only lost my desire to engage in sexual relationships but also realized that I could never be open about being gay. As a result, I began to distance myself from others. I concentrated on my studies and prepared for college."

“Do you know what happened to those guys?” I asked.

Eric chuckled, “There is a happy ending to that part of my story. At our 10-year high school reunion, both Andrew and Jack were there, even though Jack didn’t graduate from our school. They met again by chance when they attended college. They had some issues to work through because Andrew believed Jack had abandoned him. However, they reconciled and are now lawfully married. By that point, I had come out of the closet, and I apologized to both of them for not standing up to my parents on their behalf. They didn’t hold it against me, and we keep in touch by exchanging Christmas cards. When they’re in town to visit Andrew’s parents, we get together for dinner.

“I look forward to you meeting them. They’re good guys.”

“I never imagined you’d gone through so much,” I exclaimed. “You mentioned that your parents disowned you at 19 because you were gay?”

Eric and I settled back into bed. I lay down with my back against the headboard. At the same time, Eric positioned himself sideways, resting his head in my lap, gazing up at me. I lazily brushed the back of my knuckles against the graying hair on Eric's chest, as he traced my chest and stomach muscles with his own knuckles. We smiled at each other, content in each other’s presence. Eric raised his arm so that we could hold hands, and he continued telling his story.

"I went away to college, and my parents covered all my expenses. I owned a new car once I was old enough to drive, and I didn’t apply for any scholarships because my tuition was paid for. They covered all my living expenses with a monthly deposit into my bank account. They also paid for a two-bedroom apartment; I decided to have a roommate because I had grown tired of living alone.

"Paul was the name of my roommate. The school's roommate service paired us together," Eric explained. "I only charged him a portion of the rent because it was a fancy apartment, and I knew that not many students could afford half of the total amount. My parents would have been upset if they knew, but, as I mentioned, they didn't pay much attention to me.

“From the moment we met, Paul and I both knew we were gay.”

I shot Eric a look of disbelief.

Laughing, he replied, “Not everyone has dysfunctional gaydar like you!” and squeezed my hand.

"I was 19," Eric continued. "Paul was 20. We hit it off right away. He was majoring in Engineering while I was pursuing my CPA. I helped him with his math studies, and in return, he helped me understand what being gay was all about. Paul was quite experienced in that area; he came out of the closet at 16 and had been around the block a few times. However, those experiences were mostly behind him now (no pun intended). He was a good-looking guy with blonde hair, a hairy chest, and a well-built physique. He reminded me of the husband who lived next door to me years ago.

"I still avoided dating due to everything that had happened to me. One night, Paul encouraged me to talk about my experiences. He was shocked by my parents and my history with Marvin. He offered to show me what gay sex should be like, with no strings attached—just as a teacher. He had a similar experience to mine and had been fortunate to have an older man in his life who guided him through the process.

I knew I could trust Paul, but I still drank a couple of beers to calm my nerve. He took me to his bedroom, and we both undressed. Paul kissed me gently and tenderly we explored each other's bodies. Paul gave me my first blow job, and I had a wonderful experience reciprocating with him.

“We slept for a while, and when we woke, Paul told me he wanted me to fuck him. I feared doing to him what Marvin had done to me, but he assured me he would guide me every step of the way. And he did. Almost everything I did with you, Connor, Paul walked through with me. The experience confirmed my long-held suspicion: I prefer being a top, not to dominate, but to give pleasure to my partner. And Paul was without a doubt pleased!

"We had sex one more time that night. We both enjoyed the experience, but we knew what it was: a moment for teaching, and having fun. Our friendship became closer than before, but it remained just that—friendship. I felt comfortable exploring my sexuality now, as long as my parents didn’t find out."

"You were so lucky to have someone like Paul to help you recover from what you’d been through," I whispered to Eric before he continued.

"You can understand why your Uncle Bill's story impacted me so greatly. I was fortunate to have Paul there to help me navigate my attitudes about being gay. The path I had been on might have led me to suppress my sexuality."

Eric and I fell silent for a moment, each of us reflecting on my Uncle Bill and the possibilities that never came to be. Eric broke the silence.

"Paul took me to my first gay bar, brought me to my first drag show, and introduced me to his friends. I discovered that most gay men are just normal, everyday people who want to live their lives and love whom they choose. Yes, there are exceptions, but there are exceptions among straight people as well. It’s just that the media tends to highlight the bad examples. At my first gay dance club, I realized how much I love to dance!

“You're kidding,” I said. “I never would have guessed.”

“I’ll have to take you sometime,” Eric replied. “I suspect you’re an amazing dancer; you just haven't been able to show it.”

“I’d like that.”

Eric continued, “You couldn’t keep me off the dance floor. It was an excellent exercise and a wonderful way to relieve tension from school. The music you’ve heard in my car is some of my favorites. I loved retro nights, progressive nights, techno—you name it! One of the DJs joked that I was his litmus test; if he could keep me on the dance floor nonstop for over 20 minutes, he knew it was going to be a good night!

“Even though Paul had been a terrific help to me, I still wasn’t ready to start dating or anything like that. A few times at the club, guys approached me, looking for one-night stands. I politely informed them that my boyfriend was out of town, so I couldn’t engage in that kind of activity. Some of the guys were quite attractive and charming, but I just wasn’t in the right place emotionally.”

Eric paused and took a deep breath. I knew he was going to say something heavy.

CHAPTER 17

"My freshman year of college ended,” Eric continued, “And my parents were visiting for the first time. They had never seen the apartment or met my roommate, Paul. At first, the visit went well, with my parents showing genuine interest in the classes I was taking. While I was preparing lunch for us, my dad decided to explore the apartment. In Paul's room, he found some gay magazines and DVDs. Although I thought Paul's room should remain private, my dad justified his invasion of privacy by claiming it was his right since he was paying for the apartment, even though Paul was also contributing to the rent.

“This led to a heated argument. My parents began yelling about my roommate, calling him a deviant, perverted, and a bad influence on me. They demanded that I throw Paul out.

“I think you know me well enough by now to realize that I don’t have much of a temper. I would rather solve a problem than fight it out. However, nothing I said could change my parents' minds. At that point, Paul came home. I don’t think they would have realized he was gay if those items hadn’t been found. But now that they knew, my parents launched into a tirade against him. The language they used and the sheer hatred shocked me. It was worse than the junior prom incident with Andrew and Jack. They could attack me, but my parents had no right to go after Paul, someone they knew nothing about other than his sexual orientation. I lost my temper.

"Even though Paul offered to move out, I refused to force him out as my roommate. I called my parents bigoted S.O.B.s and expressed how ashamed I was to be their son. They were relentless, and I finally broke down. I shouted that I was gay and had been since I was 13, that I lost my virginity to a guy in high school at 16, and that I had gay friends and often went to gay bars. I don’t remember everything I said, but I was trying to hurt them with the truth. I asserted that I was gay and they would have to accept it.”

Eric was crying again. I said, “Come here,” and pulled him up to sit between my legs, leaning against me. I wrapped my arms and legs around him, hugging him closely. I let him cry for as long as he needed.

Eric continued, “There was dead silence for almost a minute. I stared daggers at them, but they showed no emotion. Ultimately, my dad spoke up, saying, ‘The only thing we accept is that you are no longer our son.’ Cold water rushed through my veins at his words. He went on to say that they would stop paying my tuition, covering my expenses, and maintaining the apartment straightaway. They planned to hire someone within the next few days to pack my belongings at home and have them shipped to the apartment. Since my car and bank account were legally mine, he couldn’t touch those. I was on my own. They didn’t want to hear from me ever again. Then, they left the apartment, my mom slamming the door behind them.”

I hugged Eric tighter.

"I tried to understand my parents' perspective, thinking that might help with the pain. However, I couldn't grasp their mindset. Their prejudices weren't based on religion; in fact, they never attended church. They were simply filled with hatred for anyone 'different' from them.

“Paul offered to move out, but I told him it was too late for that. Fully clothed, I cried all night while Paul held me tightly in my bed.” Eric fell silent before continuing.

“The next day, I received an express delivery document from my parents' lawyer outlining everything said in my apartment. It also explicitly stated that I had been cut out of their wills. They thought that money was the most important thing. They even threatened a restraining order if I attempted to contact them. I signed the document and then started to figure out what I was going to do next.”

“Oh, my God!” I exclaimed. “I can't believe this!”

“I suppose it was fortunate that I had grown accustomed to being an independent adult for most of my childhood. With three weeks remaining on the apartment lease, I had some time to sort things out. I applied for a school loan, and thank goodness, I had better credit than the average 19-year-old's, which meant I received a favorable percentage rate. I wouldn’t have to start paying it back until I graduated or quit school.

"After being forced out of the closet, I explained what had happened to my professor. He was willing to help me since I was his top student. He helped me get a part-time entry-level accounting position at a local firm.

“In addition, Paul’s mother offered for us to stay at her house over the summer. She also arranged to have my packed boxes from my parents’ home shipped and stored in her garage for as long as I needed. This arrangement gave us the summer to find new accommodations before the next school term began.

"Paul and I were fortunate to secure a dorm room. The room had twin beds, its own bathroom with a shower, and a small kitchenette. Initially, I refused Paul's offer to cover the entire rent.

We ended up agreeing that, in exchange for his full payment of the rent, I would handle all grocery shopping and cooking. Paul joked that he was getting the better end of the deal since I was such a good cook!"

Eric and I needed to restore our circulation, so we shifted positions. We Eric's head and left hand rested on my upper chest, and his left leg was draped over both of mine. We were in opposite positions from our usual setup, and it felt enjoyable.

“The next three years flew by,” Eric said. “Balancing a part-time job while attending college full-time kept me quite busy. I would still go out and dance whenever I could, often with friends, as it helped me to unwind. I have to admit that in the months following my confrontation with my parents, I had a couple of one-night stands. I suppose I was trying to get back at them, even though they would never find out. However, I moved on, and dating and sex became low on my list of priorities.

“A couple of months before my graduation, a friend from back home contacted me with the news that my father had suffered a heart attack and was in the ICU. I called my mom to see if she needed anything and whether she wanted me to come and visit my dad. However, I did not receive any return calls, except from their lawyer, who informed me that my parents did not wish to see me and reiterated the terms of the agreement. My dad passed away two days later. This time, I didn’t reach out, but the lawyer did. He acted a bit uncomfortable, but he made his message clear: I was not wanted at the funeral. Despite the difficult relationship with my parents, I still had some feelings for them, and the message hurt.

“I sent my mom an invitation to my graduation, but as expected, I received no response. Paul is now working as an engineer in St. Louis. We keep in touch over the phone and see each other at least once a year. I had a job lined up as a CPA at Capital Accounting and moved back here. That’s when I discovered that my mom had moved away after my dad’s death. The thought of potentially running into her when I returned had caused anxiety. Hence, the news of her absence relieved me.

CHAPTER 18

As Eric lay in my arms in bed, he smiled at me and asked about the time. It was quite late, but I was still curious about his first boyfriend, who was 18 and had hurt Eric severely. Would he be willing to share that story with me?

Eric agreed, saying he wanted to bring closure to a few things. "Oddly enough, after graduating and being free from hiding my sexuality from my parents, I still wasn’t interested in dating. I had a new job and wanted to focus on making sure it went well. I discovered the local gay clubs and went out occasionally to dance. One night, after dancing nonstop for about 40 minutes, a guy dancing near me approached and said, 'Don’t you ever stop dancing? I’ve been wanting to meet you for over an hour.' He introduced himself as Chris and looked to be around my age. I was 24 at the time. He had dirty blond hair, was tall, slim, and cute, with a broad, friendly smile.

"I stopped dancing, and we sat down to talk. We hit it off, and a couple of hours passed quickly. Before we knew it, it was closing time. Chris had come to the club with friends, but they had left long ago, so I offered to give him a ride home. It turned out that he lived at his mom’s house. She wasn’t there at the moment; she was divorced from Chris's dad and often traveled for work. This left Chris to fend for himself. We spent a long time chatting in the living room, discovering that we had a lot in common. I could relate to the experience of not having parents around.

“Are you sure you want to hear this, Connor?” Eric asked.

“If you’re comfortable talking about it, I’m okay with listening. It’s not like you’re still in love with Chris,” I paused jokingly. “Are you?”

“No more than you are with Mr. Nipples,” Eric laughed. “Although it sounds like he might be dangerous competition for me,” he added with fake seriousness.

“Go on. Get out of bed…” I screamed humorously, “You’re taking too long. Mr. Nipples has been waiting for me in the living room for over an hour!” We both laughed heartily.

“So anyway,” Eric continued after a moment, “Chris and I ended up going to bed together.”

“Uh-oh,” I said, realizing where this was heading. “You fucked Chris. He was a virgin and only 18 years old. He led you to believe he was in his 20s.”

“You win the kewpie doll!”

“We exchanged phone numbers in the morning, but I didn't think I would call him. Warning bells were already going off in my head. The more I reflected on it, the more I realized we didn’t have as much in common as I initially thought. It felt like I had fallen into the trap of letting my dick think for me. I was uncomfortable with the fact that he had lied about his age. I wondered if the similarities in our backgrounds—specifically our family situations—along with my desire to give a virgin a better experience than I had, were causing me to care for him.

“To my surprise, Chris called me the next day. We ended up going to a movie together, and then we spent the rest of the evening and night in bed. I have to admit we were very attracted to each other. I was turned on by the way Chris’ chest hair ran from his groin, up the center of his long torso, and fanned out on his pecs. I wasn’t used to seeing this on slim guys.

“Chris was going to college out of town in two weeks. So, we spent every night together, growing closer despite my reservations. Chris hadn’t come out to his mom yet. Whenever I stayed over at his house, I worried about the possibility of her making a surprise return home. I could easily imagine her catching us having intercourse—whether on the living room couch, in the hot tub, or even in Chris’s bedroom, where we often left the door open.

“On our final night together, Chris and I declared our love for one another. I’d totally lost my heart to him; we were each other’s first love and first relationship. For the next three weeks, we talked on the phone almost every night and exchanged letters. I missed him immensely, and it was no longer just about sex.

“Chris' mom decided to sell the house. He had to come back to pack up his everything in his room. He was bringing some friends to help. We made plans to meet at the dance club so he could introduce me to them.

“A funny thing happened when Chris arrived with his friends that night. He wouldn't talk to me. I managed to get some alone time with him and wanted to understand what was going on. Chris told me that we hadn’t had a real relationship; it was just about sex for him, and he didn’t know what I had been expecting that night. I ended up leaving the club in tears. When I got home, I got drunk and cried myself to sleep. My friends tried to console me, but I was heartbroken. Chris had been my first love, and he had betrayed everything I thought we shared.

“It was difficult to get over Chris, but I started acknowledging the warning signs and immaturity that I had ignored from our first night together. About three months later, I received a call from him. He mentioned that he would be in town and wanted to meet at the same club. He really needed to talk to me. I agreed because I’m a sympathetic guy and because I was curious about what he wanted to say.

“Chris apologized as soon as I saw him. He understood how much he had hurt me and wanted to explain. As the day of his trip with friends approached, they began teasing him about dating an older man. This made him embarrassed about introducing me to them, so he decided to cut off our connection. He knew we could never try again, but he wanted me to understand that he had cared for me. After all, we had been each other's first love.

“That night, we went to my apartment and spent a long time talking. We ended up making love—not just sex. It was a passionate, meaningful experience, knowing it would be our last time together. I have no idea where he moved after college, as I can't remember where he mentioned his mom was relocating.”

Eric looked at me with sincerity. “That’s what made me hesitant about you being 18 and quite possibly a virgin. I worried that history might repeat itself, even though from the moment I met you, I could see you and Chris were nothing alike. You are mature, honest, and you genuinely care about not hurting people. We have so much in common; it isn’t just me being attracted to you sexually or pitying you.”

Eric placed his hand on my face and said, “I love you, Connor Johnson.”

I smiled and placed my hand on Eric’s face. “And I love you, Eric Brooks! It seems like you and Chris shared something special, but it wasn’t meant to be. Perhaps in another time, another place… Thank you for sharing that with me.”

“Thank you, Connor, for being you. I’m the luckiest man alive."

Eric concluded his story, saying, “Over the last eight years, I haven’t dated much. I went on a couple of dates that went nowhere, and one blind date. Not that the guy was visually impaired; it was a romantic meeting between two people who had never met before, arranged by well-meaning friends.”

“Smartass!” I exclaimed.

“Maybe the other kind of blind date would have been better,” Eric replied animatedly, “This guy was so closeted that it wouldn’t have worked out. You know him, by the way.”

“What?” I asked, astonished.

“Yep, he’s the meteorologist on channel…”

“I knew it!” I interrupted, “I always thought he was gay!”

“This, coming from the man who says he doesn’t have a functioning gaydar,” Eric teased before continuing, “He’s still in the closet. He never talks about his personal life like the other anchors do. Having been closeted for so many years because of my parents, I feel for him.”

After a thoughtful pause, Eric added, “I went out with another guy for about a week, but we realized we were just friends. He joined the Foreign Legion and left for Africa the following month.”

“You’re joking!” I couldn’t believe what I heard.

“No!” Eric insisted, “It’s the truth. It’s a little embarrassing to admit that I dated a man and caused him to leave the country to join the Foreign Legion.” We both laughed.

“The last time I went out with a guy was two years ago. We kept running into each other at different places, and at last, we talked, and he asked me out. I thought there might be something between us, but he had just broken up with his partner of several years. In the end, I realized that I was just a rebound for him. He had a wandering eye, and I was just the “you’ll do until the right guy comes along.” After a couple of weeks, I decided to end things. Later, he got involved with an acquaintance of mine, and they ended up moving in together. Regrettably, that relationship ended in disaster; his wandering eye wasn’t the only part of his anatomy that was straying, if you know what I mean.

“That sums up the life and loves of Eric Brooks,” he said, looking as if he was trying to recall something important. “Oh wait, there’s one more… This man is handsome, cute, smart, has a great sense of humor, and is extraordinarily sexy! What’s his name? It’ll come to me in a moment. Just give me a second…”

I lightheartedly grabbed a pillow and whacked Eric with it.

“Oh, yes! His name is Connor Johnson, and he is the love of my life.”

CHAPTER 19

Most of the candles had burned out while Eric and I talked. We planned to get a bite to eat, but decided to lie in bed for a while, and before we knew it, we had fallen asleep. All the emotions of the day had caught up with us. I awoke to the sound of Eric snoring, lying on his stomach with his arm awkwardly draped over part of my face!

             

“Well, Connor, old boy,” I thought to myself, “welcome to the real world of boyfriends sleeping in bed together. It isn’t all romantic like in the movies.” Since I slept alone in a double bed at home, I knew there would be an adjustment period. It wasn't like Eric was used to having another man sleeping next to him either. I thought it kind of romantic that in his sleep, Eric obviously wanted to keep our bodies touching, but his unconscious mind needed better aim. I adjusted our positions and fell back to sleep.

About 90 minutes later, I found myself on my stomach with Eric softly trying to move my arm from across his face while mentioning something about my snoring. Touché!!

Eric and I were surprised by how late it was when we woke up. Both of us are early risers, but it was already near noon! Noticing our erections through our boxer shorts, I remarked that we were early risers in other respects, too.

“I woke up with a severe case of morning wood,” Eric said, grinning, “Do you want to put it to good use?”

“With you? Always!” I purred.

But then Eric surprised me by asking if I would fuck him!

“What?!” I questioned.

“I want you to fuck me.” Eric repeated, “I want to know what you feel when I fuck you. After what happened in high school, I’ve never trusted another guy to top me, but I trust you! I’m curious, and to be honest, the thought of YOU being inside me really excites me.”

I paused for a moment, realizing that the thought of being inside of Eric made me hot, too!

With a wicked smile, I guided Eric to lie on his back and climbed on top of him. I took hold of his prominent ears, pulled his face closer, and we shared a long, deep kiss. I started a playful game of trying to catch Eric’s tongue with my lips, and he joined in. The stubble on our beards brushed against each other, creating an intoxicating sensation that was sheer bliss for me.

I moved closer to Eric's ears, licking and softly biting them.

“I’ve never let anyone do that to me,” he whimpered, “Keep going; it feels so good!”

I moved my kisses down Eric’s neck and upper chest. Then I raised his arms and focused my wet tongue on his thick, dark black armpit hair. Eric began to squirm and giggle, apparently ticklish there. So, I reluctantly moved to suck on his erect nipples, which I knew, unlike mine, weren’t ticklish. As I kissed the center trail of Eric’s abs, I raised my hands to pinch his nipples. At least one of us could enjoy some nipple play.

Instead of focusing on the hard-on tenting his shorts, I shifted down and lifted Eric's muscular legs. I kissed every inch of them, starting at his calves and moving up to his thighs, my nose tickled by his beautiful leg hair.

I lowered his legs and looked at Eric’s erection straining against his boxer shorts. I fondled his balls with my left hand as I moved my lips up and down the length of his hard shaft through the fabric. Eric jumped with ecstasy when I hastily pulled off his shorts and swallowed his member whole. I sucked it fast and slow, not giving him the chance to get accustomed to any pattern.

After removing my boxer shorts, I lifted Eric’s legs again to rim his delicious ass. He continuously moaned as I licked him and played with his hole using my long fingers.

I took a pillow from the top of the bed and placed it under Eric's hips. He took the bottle of lubricant from the bedside table and began applying it to his hole. I moved closer so Eric could grease my dick.

Eric spread his legs and partially wrapped them around my hips. After leaning over to kiss him, I positioned myself and penetrated Eric with my hard cock. Doing as he had to me, I was slow and gentle, allowing Eric time to adjust to the ‘visitor in his back door’.

I began to thrust rhythmically once Eric adjusted to my presence inside him. As I increased my pace, he began to stroke himself. Eric shot his wad all over his body, face, and the sheets. Watching this sight pushed me to the edge. Our eyes met, and I could tell he wanted me to cum inside him. Letting out a yell, I thrust deeply one last time and held myself inside him as I discharged my load. When I was spent, I collapsed beside him, spent and unable to move or speak.

“Take a look!” Eric exclaimed, raising his ass for me to view.

I forced myself to my knees just in time to see Eric’s ‘cream pie’. A thick, white liquid oozed out as Eric tightened and relaxed his sphincter muscles. I was amazed at how much semen I had pumped into him and was pleased to see what Eric experienced when he’d fucked me. Eric and I hugged each other firmly while kissing.

“How was it?” I asked Eric.

“Oh, my!” he replied, “It was wonderful! YOU were wonderful. Thank you for letting me try it. I still prefer to top, but as long as it’s YOU fucking me, I could get used to this!”

“It had better be ONLY ME fucking you! But I understand what you meant,” I said with a laugh. "I liked it too, mainly because I was inside of you. I wouldn't mind changing things up every now and then." I kissed Eric softly, which quickly turned into a flurry of kisses.

CHAPTER 20

Since we had a late start on Saturday, Eric and I decided to go out for some food. We showered and dressed for the day in shorts and t-shirts. I was pleased to see Eric still wearing the 6-inch inseam shorts. After our meal, we went to the comic shop to pick up our comics. Then, we headed to the nature preserve for a romantic walk.

It was an overcast day, which kept other visitors away. Eric and I held hands as we strolled along the nature preserve's paths and boardwalks. When we reached the lake, we sat on a boulder that jutted out over the water. We talked about whatever came to mind, which was a good change from the intense conversation from the night before. I lay back on the rock, staring up at the sky, while Eric continued to watch the water.

“I can’t believe that just yesterday I was a virgin,” I said in wonder.

In a silly, loving tone, Eric said, “Now you’re making love like a skilled veteran – topping, bottoming, performing masterful blow jobs, swallowing cum, etc.”

I asked him, “Can I use you as a reference when I apply for that sex worker job on Monday? Or do you think it’s too soon for that?”

Eric pretended to think about it and offered his opinion, “It’s a little too soon. I think you need some more on-the-job training.”

“Are you volunteering?” I replied naughtily.

“Of course, Mr. Johnson!” he said.

At that moment, a drop of water landed on my nose. Eric felt a drop, too, and turned to look at the sky. “Oh no,” he said, and just then, the heavens opened up in a torrential downpour!

We got up and ran back along the pathways for the safety of Eric’s SUV. However, we were soaked to the bone after just a few yards. Realizing that running wouldn't make much of a difference, we laughed, took each other’s hands, and leisurely walked the rest of the way. We were determined to enjoy our romantic stroll, regardless of the weather.

By the time we arrived back at Eric’s house, the rain had eased a bit. Once inside, we headed to the bathroom to remove our wet clothing. Eric mentioned he would wash and dry them later, but for now, we needed a hot shower to avoid catching a chill and coming down with a cold. That isn’t just an old wives’ tale; both of us had experienced it in the past. However, I certainly didn’t need an excuse to be naked with Eric!

In the shower, we took our time soaping each other’s bodies. By this point, our erections were in full bloom, so I took the soap, lathered our cocks, and began rubbing them together. Eric surprised me by turning me around so my back faced him. Unlike the week before, Eric soaped my ass and moved his fingers inside my hole to open me up. I turned my head and kissed him, acknowledging that I understood his intentions and approved of them.

Leaning over and placing my hands on the shower wall to brace myself, Eric slowly penetrated my ass. It was easier than the previous day, as I knew how to relax down there now. Eric’s balls slapped my rear as he began fucking me in the shower. I was learning to enjoy the intense blend of pleasure and pain that each thrust of Eric’s manhood brought. I think I surprised Eric when I began to move my body to meet his thrusts. His balls hit me harder. I reached climax without touching myself. Eric withdrew his dick, turned me around, and I jacked him off until he cummed. We embraced and kissed for the next ten minutes.

We dried off and got dressed. In my case, though, I struggled to find something suitable. I only had one pair of shorts, which had been soaked by the rain. I had my work dress pants, but they seemed impractical to wear.

I declared, “I guess I’ll have to spend the rest of the day dressed like Donald Duck, wearing nothing but a shirt.”

Eric considered this for a moment, then dismissed the idea as silly, and offered me a pair of his shorts. Since his waist was wider than mine, I used my belt to cinch it up.

He burst into laughter at my appearance, saying, “You look like a street urchin from a Charles Dickens novel!”

I jokingly quoted, “Please, sir. May I have some more?” then kissed him.

Eric responded, “Plenty more where that cums from,” In a sexy play on words.

We ordered a pizza for delivery and watched a movie. Then we decided to go to bed early since we were still worn out from Eric’s emotional story the night before. He spooned me as we fell asleep. That night was less awkward; we managed to give each other enough space to sprawl across the bed while still finding ways to touch one another. The snoring was another issue, but by morning, we were getting used to that, too.

Sunday began with Eric waking up and preparing breakfast in bed for us. I loved the initmacy of us feeding each other! I "paid" for the meal by giving Eric a blow job and jokingly telling him to “keep the change,” hinting that I would want a similar favor in return later.

My shorts had been washed and dried so I got dressed and we cleaned up the kitchen together. I noted where everything was stored, planning to surprise Eric by cooking him something the following weekend.

Since the rain was still pouring, we looked for things to do around Eric’s house. One of the activities included a tour of the rest of the place. In the hallway, Eric showed me a framed photo collage.

As he guided me through the pictures, I spotted Paul’s college roommate, who was indeed a handsome devil, both then and now. His face reflected much of the kindness Eric had attributed to him. There were pictures of Eric with his godchildren. How adorable he looked with them! It was clear that the kids loved their ‘uncle.’

When I saw a photo of Eric with their mother, Julie, I commented, “Wow! You two look like a lovely couple! Honestly, I can see why people thought you were married.”

The collage included several pictures of Eric as a kid and a teenager.

“Man, you were a hunk even back then!” I exclaimed. “I never would’ve stood a chance with you!”

“Connor,” Eric replied, “I believe that if we had been teenagers at the same time, I would have fallen in love with you just like I have now.” He paused thoughtfully, “I know this might sound strange, but I think we would have found each other no matter when, no matter where. Forget the age difference; our souls would have met in some way.”

“That's sweet!”

“I don’t mean to scare you this early in our relationship with all this New Age talk,” Eric paused, searching for the right words, “but it’s something I’ve felt since the moment we met.”

“You’re not scaring me. I believe in soulmates, reincarnation, and all that. I think I feel the same way, even though I’ve never been in love before. All I can say is, ‘I love you with all my heart and soul.’”

With that, we kissed and stood in the hallway, holding each other close.

The spare bedroom was where Eric kept his comic collection. Since our tastes were similar, we spent most of the afternoon reading comics together. We looked like teenagers, lying about on the bed, engrossed in the stories and art. At one point, we snuggled close and read the same book. This led to a playful argument about one of us reading slower than the other, with the other urging, “Hurry up.”

As the afternoon turned into evening, we began to feel down. I would have to go home in a few hours. The thought of not seeing each other for a week weighed heavily. We found ourselves gravitating back to Eric’s bedroom.

We took our time undressing each other, as if we wanted to lock every second in our memories. Standing naked, our erections erect, we gazed into each other’s eyes. It was like I could see beyond Eric’s brown eyes, perhaps even into his soul. I could sense that he was experiencing the same connection. We lay on the bed and held each other close, our arms and legs intertwined, not wanting the moment to end.

Eric positioned me on my knees in preparation for intercourse in the "doggy style" position. After lubrication, he carefully mounted me and maintained a slow, gentle pace with his thrusts. Eric adjusted my body so that it lay flat on the bed. He remounted me, lying flat on my back, moving only his hips in, out, and around. Our arms were stretched out, and our fingers were intertwined. The sensation of his chest against my back, his legs resting on mine, and the movement of his hard cock inside me was glorious.

Eric removed himself and asked, “Do you want to ride me?”

I understood what he meant, having seen this position in gay porn DVDs. However, I still couldn't help but make a joke. “Like a horse?”

Eric laughed heartily, and we both said, “Naww! Let’s not go there!” Clearly, neither of us was interested in the idea of “role-playing” during sex.

I applied more lubricant while Eric lay on his back, holding his hard-on up and steady so I could mount it. I squatted over Eric's body, forward to see his face, and slowly lowered myself onto his stiff pole. This experience was different from my previous ones because I remained in complete control. I took it slowly and soon found myself sitting on Eric's lap, his full cock inside of me. The expression of pleasure on his face made me warm all over.

As I moved up and down, I found a comfortable rhythm. Eric then added some hip movement, causing us to thrust into each other at the same time. My hard-on slapped Eric’s stomach as it bounced up and down with my movements. I caressed his beautiful chest with my hands while he kept his large hands on my hips to ensure I remained steady.

“Hold still; I’m going to take control,” Eric instructed me.

I did as Eric asked, and he began fucking me like a jackrabbit. I let out a startled cry.

“Are you alright?” Eric asked, pausing his movements.

“Oh! Yeah!” I replied, still in shock. “That was… that was… WOW! I didn’t expect it, but… WOW!”

Eric fucked me again in that specific way. I closed my eyes, threw my head back, and smiled.

“I love your smile!” Eric proclaimed just before he cummed inside me. I climaxed just seconds later, without even touching myself.

Afterward, I fell off Eric, and we lay side by side. I whispered to him, “Making love with you will never get old, even if we do!” We held hands, reluctant to let go, but we both knew it was time.

Eric dropped me off at my parents’ house. He didn’t come in because of the rain. We kissed each other and said, “Aloha.” This time, I thought it didn’t mean ‘goodbye,’ but rather ‘hello’—as in, ‘hello to the beginning of a new life together for Eric and me!’

CHAPTER 21

FIFTEEN YEARS LATER

It’s hard to believe that Eric and I have been together for 15 years. A lot has changed since that memorable weekend when I lost my virginity. Eric and I are now legally married; he owns his own small accounting firm, and I’ve become a bestselling author. We are also parents. I suppose I should explain how we arrived at this point in our lives.

Two weeks after that incredible weekend, I bought a car and began college. I switched to part-time at the accounting agency where I worked. This change left my afternoons free for classes.

Having a car also gave me the freedom to stay with Eric at his house more often, not just on weekends. After a couple of months, Eric asked me to move in with him. I remember the conversation that followed like it was yesterday.

Eric used logic when he said, “If you move in with me, we can spend more time together instead of staying up late talking on the phone. We’ll get more sleep.”

“Somehow,” I replied, “I don’t think we’ll get more sleep, if you get my drift.”

Eric responded with a hint of sadness, “Good point. Just forget I said anything.”

I shouted, “No! I say yes, yes, yes!”

Eric looked confused and asked, “Which is it? No or yes? You have to be clearer.”

“I’ll get you an Ouija board,” I deadpanned before kissing him passionately. Five minutes later, we were in bed, making love. Our love and sexual attraction for one another hadn’t diminished; if anything, it had grown stronger.

We experienced our ups and downs as we adjusted to living together. Eric had only lived with someone for four years back in college, and that was with a roommate, not a lover sharing his bed every night. While I was used to always having my family around—there was always someone in the house, even if they weren’t sharing my bed. What couple doesn’t have disagreements? They wouldn’t be human if they didn’t. Fortunately, Eric and I were mature men, except when we were acting goofy. That maturity and our strong love for one another always helped us get through our disagreements.

I continued learning about gay culture. Whenever Eric’s former roommate, Paul, visited us, he would take us to a gay club. That’s when I discovered my love for dancing! There’s an old joke that white men can’t dance—unless they’re gay. From what I saw, it appears to be true!

With Paul and Eric, I attended my first drag show. I didn’t think I would enjoy it. Still, I left with a newfound respect for the queens and their talents, specifically their courage to dress as women in their everyday lives. I don’t think I could ever muster that kind of bravery!

I also have to mention the time when Eric, Paul, and David took me to a leather bar while dressed in regular clothing. I was terrified. I felt like “chicken” walking into the bar, surrounded by leather-clad men, most of whom sported mustaches and beards. The men couldn’t take their eyes off me. Eric, Paul, and David found my reactions hilarious! When Paul took me around and introduced me to some of the “boys,” I discovered they were mostly polite, normal people with a unique fashion sense I didn’t relate to.

David had become Eric's and my closest friend. As expected, he and Eric hit it off very well. They both shared the experience of not having a close relationship with their parents and having to fend for themselves at an early age. However, it wasn't just that; the three of us had common interests and a shared sense of humor. David often joined Eric and me on our short trips together. Seeing us as a happy, stable couple helped David mature. Of course, that didn't stop us from occasionally acting like the Three Stooges! I’m surprised we didn’t get kicked out of a few places when our fun got a little out of hand!

Eric grew quite close to my family, who treated him like another son. Given Eric's upbringing, he cherished the love they shared with him. My dad, Eric, and I worked together on Eric's house, and over six months, we made wonderful progress. The bonding experience between my dad, Eric, and me was very meaningful. Eric was getting used to having a father figure, while I was getting to know my father one-on-one as an adult.

Speaking of parents, Eric and I had been living together for just over five months when he received a call from his parents’ lawyer. His mother had passed away, and he needed to schedule an important meeting with the lawyer. I accompanied Eric.

Mr. Harper, the lawyer, was very apologetic about how Eric had been treated since he was 19. Although he disagreed with their actions, he’d had fulfilled his clients’ requests. Eric understood this and didn’t blame him. The lawyer reiterated what we already knew: Eric’s parents had removed him from their wills. However, two months before her death, after learning about her illness, his mother had changed her will to leave everything to Eric. She refused to explain her decision to Mr. Harper. He confirmed that she was of sound mind at the time. However, he remarked that she seemed just as hateful as ever—his words, not mine—about Eric’s sexuality. The estate was far larger than Eric ever suspected, but he didn’t want any of the money. Mr. Harper added that once Eric received the inheritance, he could do anything he wanted with it, including giving it all away.

I told my parents early on that both of Eric’s parents were deceased; it had been easier for him that way. However, when this happened, we sat down with my mom and dad, and Eric shared his story—without going into the sexual details, of course. My father was moved by how similar Eric’s story was to his brother’s. My parents had already grown to love Eric, and this brought them even closer.

We discussed Eric’s mother’s will with my parents. My mom commented, “I’ve heard that some people have a change of heart when they know they’re going to die.”

“No, not in this case,” Eric replied. “I don’t think I’ll ever understand why she did it.” He paused for a moment before adding, “Connor and I believe it’s purely an act of revenge. By leaving me their estate, they would have power over me after death because I would need their money. It would serve as a reminder of what I turned my back on because I’m gay and the so-called ‘pain’ I caused them.”

My dad agreed, as did my sister, David, and Eric’s friends, Julie and Paul. Paul admitted that he didn’t like to think poorly of people, but after meeting Eric’s parents, he wouldn’t put it past them to have had malicious intent with this bequest. His parents liked to control others.

Eric included me in his decision-making process. It would be months before the estate could be settled. But we decided that when it was received, we would keep the inheritance in savings and figure out what to do with it later.

The beginning of June marked one year since Eric and I met. I planned a big surprise for him. Since the comic shop was where we’d first met, I intended to propose to him there on our anniversary. I coordinated everything with Ken, the shop owner, who was an old friend of Eric’s. He would close off the “New Arrivals” aisle for ten minutes, allowing me to pop the question.

The day arrived, and when I got the signal from Ken, I turned to Eric and got down on one knee. To my surprise, I saw Eric was doing the same thing! After recovering from our shock, we both said our names, “Eric” and “Conner,” simultaneously. Our jaws dropped when we both exclaimed, “Will you marry me?” In disbelief, we each handed one another an original “Howard the Duck 1976 Presidential Campaign button.”

Ken's voice called from up the aisle, “Well? Are you guys going to say yes?”

With astonished looks on our faces, Eric and I replied in unison, “Yes! Yes! Yes!” and kissed each other. Ken captured the moment with his camera. Customers throughout the store began applauding and shouting “Congratulations!” while tears of joy streamed down our faces.

It turned out Eric, and I had the same idea around the same time. We both approached Ken with the proposition separately. He managed to keep the secret about what each of us was planning. It was also Ken who suggested that we give each other the Howard the Duck buttons as engagement gifts. They hadn’t been easy for him to find.

Our wedding took place in July. Both Eric and I wanted it to be small and simple. Our guests included my parents, my sister, and Eric’s friend Julie, along with her husband and kids, who are also Eric’s godchildren. We had two “best men”: Paul for Eric and David for me. The comic shop owner, Ken, is an ordained minister, and he performed the ceremony. We wrote our own vows, and Ken pronounced us “husband and husband – Aloha!”

The most meaningful wedding gift for Eric came when my parents asked him to start calling them Mom and Dad. I was unaware this moment was coming. Eric said yes and broke down in tears, embracing both of them like a small child. Eric is a wonderful man and justly deserves to have the parents he always longed for!

For our honeymoon, we traveled to Hawaii, where Eric and I delighted in hearing people say “Aloha.” We had maintained a very active sex life, so one might expect we’d spend all our time in bed. However, this being our first real trip together, we wanted to explore as much of the islands as possible without being sleep-deprived. There would be plenty of time for sex when we returned home – we could count on that!

One evening, near the end of our stay, Eric and I sat on the beach outside our private bungalow. The full moon lit up the waves crashing against the shore. Eric mentioned that he wanted to talk about something serious.

“It’s something that’s been on my mind for a while,” he said as if trying to get up the courage, “And there’s no time like the present.”

Fearful, I shook my head, acknowledging my consent.

“Now, I don’t want you to say anything until I’m finished.”

I shook my head again.

“Connor, I want to use my parents’ money in two ways. One to help me set up my own small accounting firm, with one, maybe two clerks. I’ve always had this dream, even back in high school when I first made up my mind to pursue this as a career.

“I love where I work, and they’ve been very good to me. But, as much as I like crunching numbers, it’s working with the clients that I enjoy the most. I can do more of that in my own business.

“I want to give it one year to see if, one: I still enjoy it, and two: if I can make a decent living. I only want to use that money to get started and help me get by until the business becomes viable. I don’t want to touch our personal savings.

“The second part is, I want you to quit your part-time job and use the money to pay for college. I'm thinking of you perhaps changing your major to English and Literature. I also want you to use the time you gain to actively pursue your writing. I’ve read your work, and it’s very good. I think you can be successful. Like me, give it a year to see if you enjoy it and if your writing shows promise.”

Eric remained quiet for a minute, staring out at the ocean. I could tell he wasn’t ready for me to speak yet.

“I think it would be poetic justice for my parents’ money to be used by two married gay men to start new lives together. To spend it on bettering themselves and their future family. To raise a child better than they raised me.”

Eric turned to face me.

“Yes, I said, raise a child! After the trial year, I’d like us to consider adopting a child—not a baby, but an older child. One who has fallen through the system and needs loving parents to give them a good start in life.

“What do you think?”

In the moonlight, I saw Eric’s expressive brown eyes - full of love. Not just love for me, but love in general – and he wanted to share it.

“Eric,” I said, “I’ve thought the same thing about adopting. David fits the description you gave for a child. He had an alcoholic mother and an abusive father who ended up in jail. He had rage issues and two suicide attempts because he blamed himself for being the problem with his parents. The ‘system’ left him in the custody of his mother, which meant he was left to fend for himself. If they’d removed him and he’d been adopted by caring parents, he would have had a much better life. At least he had me with him the whole time. My parents only knew a glimmer of what was going on. David didn’t want anyone to know.

“So yes, on adoption. Very much so!” I said wholeheartedly.

I sighed then continued, “I’ll be honest with you, I’m a little scared of the other two things. I’m used to a life with a happy, safe, and secure family. We didn’t take chances. That’s the key reason I chose accounting for college instead of pursuing my writing.”

I smiled at Eric, looking into the face of the man I not only loved, but was now married to. The man who was my friend. The man who was my soulmate.

“I love you and trust you. I know you’ve thought this through carefully. Once again, I say ‘I do’”

We kissed, then lay on the beach, hand in hand, gazing at the moon and the stars.

Well, the year passed, and both Eric's accounting business and my writing were successful. I sold my first novel—a supernatural mystery—and it did well enough that the publisher gave me an advance for a second book.

We used some of Eric’s inheritance to add a third bedroom with its own small bathroom to the house, anticipating the adoption of a teenager. With my dad’s advice, we also built two small rooms—one for each of us to have private offices for our work and writing. Eric’s old friend Julie used her interior design skills to turn our offices into unique personal spaces.

The adoption process was lengthy, involving background checks into our lives and our stability as a couple. They needed to know about our childhoods, and everything about Eric’s past became part of the scrutiny. This was necessary, as we wanted to adopt a child who some might consider "troubled." The agency had to be careful in matching the child with potential parents.

Patrick was 13, smart as hell, and eager to work on his issues. He needed stability, something that foster families couldn’t provide. Eric and I could give him that. He had a background similar to David’s and was undergoing therapy for abandonment and anger issues. He wholly accepted Eric and me being gay, saying that if we became his dads, he would beat the crap out of anyone who made fun of his family. Okay, he still needed to work on the rage, but his heart was in the right place!

We spent nearly two months having Patrick stay with us for progressively lengthier visits. He had a lot in common with us, including a shared love for comics and science fiction. During these visits, he spent time with my family and with David as well. The social worker thought David might be a positive influence on Patrick, given their similar backgrounds.

After everything was checked and double-checked, Patrick became our legal son. The social worker had been correct; he and "Uncle David" developed a close bond. We never pried into how that relationship developed, respecting their privacy. However, it doesn’t take a mystery novelist like me to figure out that there must have been a lot of deep and painful sharing between them.

It wasn’t a one-sided influence either. With Patrick around, David mellowed and settled down with a woman he loved very much. They married and have two small children! David has become an incredible husband and father. It’s heartwarming to see how the kids interact with their "Uncle" Patrick. Eric and I believe that Patrick will make a wonderful parent someday. Just as a side note, BOTH Eric and I were David’s best men at his wedding!

We gave Patrick the option of keeping his legal last name or taking either Brooks or Johnson. For the first year, he chose to keep his original last name. However, after a visit with my sister, Cathy, who is only a year older than Patrick, he informed us he wanted to change his name to Brooks-Johnson! Eric and I were so moved that we cried—so did Patrick. This was one of the lessons our son learned from his two dads: that it’s okay, and even healthy, for men to cry. And cry he did.

When Patrick turned 18, he had a long, emotional talk with Eric and me about his childhood, revealing things that neither David nor the foster care system ever knew. We are extremely proud of our son!

There’s not much else to say, except to bring you up-to-date to now.

Ken still owns the comic shop, but now he runs it with his adult son. Eric, Patrick, and I made the pilgrimage together to pick up our comics weekly for quite a few years. Although Patrick has been doing it on his own for a long time now, Eric and I still get our comics every week and always smile at each other in the “New Arrivals” aisle.

My sister, Cathy, is now 28 years old. Like me, she got to fulfil her dream and she’s become a zoologist. Although she isn’t married yet, I’m sure that will come in time. For now, she is devoted to her animals at the wildlife park, and they are very lucky to have her.

Eric’s ex-college roommate, Paul, is still an engineer living in St. Louis. He is single, but it’s by choice. Some people are more just surrounded by friends. I think he’s wise to not enter into a relationship just because it’s expected. That would likely lead to unhappiness for both partners. Paul visits us about twice a year, usually around the holidays. We’re his family since his mom passed away.

Julie and her family visit once a year and bring her kids, who are now teenagers. There is a contest going on to see who is their favorite uncle: Uncle Eric or Uncle Connor? We both lose now that Uncle Patrick is around!

I’ve already mentioned that David has become a caring husband and a doting father. He remains our closest friend, and I would do anything for him, just as he would for me. Some bonds beyond doubt last a lifetime.

My parents are now retired and enjoy traveling. Eric has managed to turn a challenging relationship with his parents into something positive. Because he traveled so much as a child, Eric has become a wise advisor to Mom and Dad on planning their trips around the world. They are wonderful parents to both Eric and me and sensational grandparents to Patrick.

Patrick is now 27 years old. He chose to attend vocational school to learn about the various aspects of construction. He was partially inspired by his granddad, but he always enjoyed working with his hands and creating tangible things. He’s been seeing a fantastic young lady for almost a year now. They make a wonderful couple, and Eric and I wouldn’t be surprised if he decides to propose soon. I can’t believe that we might become grandparents!

Eric is now 48 years old. I may be biased, but I still think he’s a hunk of a man! Yes, he’s put on a bit of weight, but I can still see the enticing muscle tone beneath his t-shirts. He continues to wear 6-inch inseam shorts because I love looking at his hairy, shapely legs and his tight bubble butt!

His five o’clock shadow shows a lot of grey now, and a bit has appeared in his dark black hair as well. But I still think Eric is the most handsome and sexiest man on Earth! I’ll never stop loving his goofy smiles, and his big ears still turn me on—big time!

Our sex life remains as active as it was fifteen years ago. There is nothing I enjoy more than getting fucked by Eric. The joining of our bodies as one will never grow old for us, as it signifies the joining of our souls as well. Two souls, always as one.

I am now 33 years old—the same age Eric was when I met him. I’m more comfortable with my appearance because I’m older and have adopted the attitude of ‘who cares what others think?’ And because the only opinion that matters to me is Eric’s, and he has always loved me as I am.

I’ve filled out with age, but not to the extent Eric had at this age. I’ve lost my ‘baby face,’ which certainly helps when people see my author photo. Many might be hesitant about a teenager looking back from the rear cover of a bestselling mystery novel!

I’ve had several books on the bestseller list, and two have been optioned for movies. But if you know anything about Hollywood, that doesn’t necessarily mean they will ever be made. Look up the term “Development Hell.”

I’m grateful we used Eric’s parents’ money wisely. I bet they are rolling over in their graves seeing two gay men happily married and raising an adopted son!

Looking back on my life, I realize that my problems growing up were insignificant compared to those of others close to me: my dad, his brother, Eric, David, and our beloved Patrick. It frightens me to think that so many people face similar struggles but lack the family and friends to help them overcome their traumas and lead happy lives. I’m so lucky to have Eric, my family, and all my friends.

Eric and I still face challenges. While the age difference seemed minor fifteen years ago, it’s becoming more prominent in our minds now. It may be difficult to retire together; when I can retire at 65, Eric will be 80. Who knows what his health will be like then? But we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. I’m confident we’ll handle it as we always do—with love. The comedy duo of Brooks & Johnson will overcome!

And last but not least, an update on Mr. Nipples. He has become an urban legend like Bigfoot, the Loch Ness monster, the Mothman, and extraterrestrial kidnappings. He's been sighted in the Pacific Northwest, the deserts of New Mexico, and the wilds of New Jersey. No one has managed to capture a clear photo of him; they’re always out of focus or motion-blurred. The government denies his existence.

Mr. Nipples has transformed into a story whispered in hushed tones to titillate horny, young, gay men. But I know he’s real. I once had a close encounter with him. He’s out there somewhere, lurking in bookstores, music stores, and comic shops—someplace. Sooner or later, the proof will emerge, and Mr. Nipples will stand revealed (Take that double entendre as you wish) — the truth is out there.

Aloha!