Note: This chapter is all about Jesse — who he is, what shaped him, and where his quiet hunger began. There’s no sex here, just backstory and soft reflection.
If you’ve already got your pants down, feel free to skip to the next chapter. Jesse won’t hold it against you. :)
Jesse didn’t go to college right after high school.
It wasn’t about grades or ability — he was just tired. The kind of tired that lives under the skin. He wasn’t ready to launch into something he didn’t understand yet.
“I think I need time,” he told them plainly at dinner one night.
His parents were surprised — not upset, just caught off guard. They were always traveling for work, always trying to stay connected, but rarely around long enough to notice what Jesse was feeling until he said it out loud.
They asked why. He told them — just enough.
There was a pause. Then a few questions. They weighed the pros and cons together. And in the end, they said okay.
His grandparents were the ones around most of the time — kind, steady, but never quite able to connect with what Jesse loved or how he thought. He wasn’t close to any one person in his family, but he loved all of them in his own quiet, steady way.
One year turned into two, and Jesse didn’t rush to change that.
He didn’t wake up one day and decide it was time for college. It built slowly — the pull toward meaning, structure, maybe even connection. He didn’t just want to feel anymore. He wanted to understand why.
Jesse worked quiet jobs — bookstore, coffee shop, later a library. Places where the world didn’t ask too much of him. Where he could shelve things in peace, listen to people talk, and learn by watching from the edges.
Jesse noticed things others didn’t — the tension behind smiles, the way men carried stress in their shoulders, the difference between a command and a request. He didn’t just watch. He read.
He read more. Wrote a little. Journaled sometimes. Stories, scraps, even light erotica. He gravitated toward stories that gave space for feeling: soft men, complex silences, emotional messes. He started thinking — maybe literature. Psychology. Linguistics. Nothing official yet, but something was forming.
He told others he just wasn’t ready for college yet. That he needed more time to decide what to study.
But there was another truth underneath that one — quieter, harder to explain. Jesse had spent high school unsure of who he was — not confused about being gay, exactly. He knew. But he didn’t understand what his desire meant. Not when the things he wanted weren’t boys his age, but older men. A craving with nowhere to land.
Over time, Jesse started recognizing the difference — between men who wanted to use him, and men who wanted to take care of him. It was quiet, intuitive. A feeling in his gut. He never trusted looks alone — he watched how they spoke, how they listened.
So he gave himself time. Time to figure out how to want without shame.
And by the time he turned twenty-one, Jesse had spent enough time in his own quiet orbit to feel the itch for something more. So one night, he decided to try.
It wasn’t dramatic — just a simple plan. Go to a club. Be around people. Maybe flirt. Maybe touch. He was terrified. He went anyway.
And that night led him to Andrew Cross. A man who didn’t just see him, but touched him like he mattered. That night had been everything Jesse needed it to be.
But even with how beautifully that first time had unfolded, Jesse knew he wasn’t done yet. He’d opened a door, but there were still rooms inside him he hadn’t explored.
Jesse had always been good at reading people. Shane and Levi were the only ones from high school who stuck — steady, easy company. They hung out often, shared music, talked about college, about family, about what they wanted from life. From love.
He told them he was gay early on. Levi, somewhere on the bi spectrum, had shrugged and said, “Cool.” Shane just nodded and kept talking about the song he was playing.
Shane had always felt like the grounded one — easy to talk to, never nosy. Jesse trusted him. Maybe more than he realized at the time.
They all knew each other’s basics. Crushes, heartbreaks, messy dates. Jesse was comfortable with them — safe, even.
But he never talked about his deeper desires.
Not the way older men made his stomach twist. Not the fantasies. Because he didn’t understand it yet. Not fully. And he wasn’t ready to hand over something that still felt unfinished inside him.
He needed more time.
But eventually — when the moment came — Jesse knew he’d try again.
He just didn’t know whose hands would be waiting on the other side...or how soon.
Okay, okay — no filth this time just feelings. Don’t worry, though. He won’t be waiting long. The next man’s already on his way… and Jesse? He’s more than ready.
Think you know who? Go on, send me your guess at [email protected] . Let’s see how dirty your intuition is. ;)
