I found myself in bed. I got home from the party after we stopped for coffee to settle my nerves and everyone's nerves for that matter. I came into the house and stumbled. I was wasn't worried about anyone waking up, mom was out of town and dads room was on the other side of the house and he would be in a sound bourbon sleep 2:13am. I half walked and half crawled up the stairs towards my room. I had to get sober, I hated going to bed feeling weird, and I don't know what we smoked but it was not entirely weird. I told my thoughts to my friends and Antonio informed us that it is not uncommon for weed to be laced with other substances, and from the look of my eyes it either had cocaine, crystal meth, or ecstasy crushed up and sprinkled on it. At hearing this I felt sick. I told my friends the whole story through my stomach doing summersaults, but I left Irish out, and I don't know why. I made it to my bathroom, pulling myself over to the shower and turned it on full blast and full heat. I took my wallet, keys, and phone out of my pocket of my pants and took off my boots and then just slid into the shower pants and all.

I sat on the shower floor and let the hot water wash over me. I thought about the whole night. The excitement of going there, the happiness of being free from Ami and seeing Sasha, the adrenaline as we walked down the hallway, the lust I felt for Irish, the sadness I felt for Irish, the horrible high, the fear of thinking I was going to die, the fear that Sasha and Irish were going to die with me, the relief when Irish picked us... picked me over drugs. The feelings were too much to contain and I pulled my left knee up and threw my head back into the stream of the second water jet and cried. I cried everything out, the pain and lust and fear and joy. I cried over the two times I had seen Irish and over the rumors I remembered hearing. I cried because I was sitting in this mansion in this shower so alone. I cried.

The crying and the hot water began to sober me up and 20 minutes later I had removed my pants and green boxer briefs and pushed them into a pile in the corner of the shower. I let the hot water wash it all away; let it clean my 5'11 202lb frame. Felt the water wash from my head to my strong slender neck and wide shoulders, down my broad back and slight hourglass shape, down my slightly hairy chest and flat 6 pack stomach, down my soft cock resting on my balls and my trimmed brown pubes, down my thick semi hairy muscular thighs and calves, down to my size 11 ½ feet. I rotated my shoulders and opened my mouth and let the hot water spill out of it.

Soon after I got out of the shower and wrapped a large white towel around my waist while I used a medium sized towel to dry my hair. After I finished drying off I walked to my closet and opened my underwear drawer. I didn't need anything fancy, just a pair of black Calvin boxer briefs. I pulled them up my sore thighs; in fact my whole body was sore like I've been lifting weights. I laid myself down on my bed and stared at the ceiling in the faint glow of my clock giving off a faint blue light. Blue light. Suddenly my thoughts turned to Irish, the boy who saved my life tonight. I thought of our past, and what he said to me in English earlier this week. Of the rumors I heard, and finding out he was or is an addict. Of how he saved my life.

I laid in bed thinking of him and after all my thoughts went through my mind twice I thought of how good he looked, how warm his body was pressed to mine, and how good my hand felt in his. I thought of his back against my hand. –Mmmm- I could feel myself rapidly getting hard. Why was this happening?! My cock couldn't lie and neither could I. Closing my eyes tightly I breathed out in a whisper "I'm gay, and I think I have feelings for Irish." With this realization my cock sprang to its full seven and one fourth inches, throbbing, and spitting precum. I could feel it wetting the entire front of my boxer briefs and even slowly sliding down the shaft of my cock as it points straight up threatening to rip through my boxer briefs. All bathed in a faint blue light. My eyes roll back and I let out a deep guttural moan, I can't remember a time where just getting an erection felt so good. I was so overrun by feelings that I couldn't even think of move, but soon the throbbing in my boxer briefs was too much. I reached down and took hold of my throbbing cock through the soaked fabric. I can't remember a time when I have ever produced so much precum; ahh the feelings were so intense. I knew I wouldn't last long. I slid off my boxer briefs leaving a slight damp feeling down my legs. I took hold of my throbbing cock, my balls quivering and partially drawn up, I knew for certain now that I wouldn't last long. The first stroke took my breath away as my hand slide from the base up and over the exposed head. I was dripping sweat and my right hand was gripping the sheets be the third stroke. I closed my eyes and could feel the warmth of Irish's body on mine, the shock-waves that came from our hands being intertwined. I could have exploded just then, but I wanted this to last, it was the best feeling that I have ever had in my short seventeen plus years. My strong legs pulled up and my curling toes took hold of the sheet as if their lives depended on it. My back arched. "Hold on, hold on, oh god, Irish." I breathed out as my head feel back upon the pillow damp from my sweat. I thought of the Irish taking my chin in his hand and pulling my lips to his. The vision sent shock waves through my entire body. My balls pulled up to my body with such force it was a wonderful agony, my cock went from granite to iron and it thickened in my hands, my back rose completely off the bed and I shot powerful rope after rope of hot cum. The first sailing past my head, the next three hitting me in the forehead, mouth, and chin. I lost track at that point, but when I came to I realized I was covered in still warm cum from my face to my pubes. I was a mess. My body trembled and it was an effort to release the death grip I had on the sheets. I vaguely remember a wail coming from own throat. I had never cummed that loudly or forcefully. Just as I thought of cleaning up my eye lids became heavy, it was four am, and I feel asleep.

I was viciously awakened by the turning of my stomach; I jumped out of bed and ran to the bathroom. Over the course of the next 26 hours I managed to empty the contents of my stomach and dry heave thirteen times. After the sixth I texted Antonio to see if he had any more helpful drug information. 'This is normal when you're not used to doing drugs like that, it probably had a large amount on there. If it continues into tomorrow of if you feel like you've been drugged you need to go to the ER.' I wanted to ask how he knew this, but my stomach did more acrobatics and the thought disappeared from my mind. By six am on Sunday morning I knew that my body could take no more, and picked myself up off the floor and took another shower. I felt good to wash the sick, vomit, sweat, and old cum from my skin. After the shower I went downstairs to find some dry toast or a bagel, avoiding my parents as they would see my sick state and demand Dr. Martin come over to take a look at me. As I gingerly walked down the double stair case the TV from the living room off the kitchen caught my attention.

"Breaking news: a young man, unidentified as of this moment, found dead in the lower level two of the old iron forge warehouse. The warehouse has been closed since the 1970's due to unsafe work conditions and substandard products. Authorities believe that this was the site of another nocturnal party and this youth is yet another fatality of these parties making it 15 in 10 years. Auth..."

Having now reached the foyer I saw the picture on the screen. Cage. Juan shot Cage for what happened. I thought this thought would send me back to the bathroom, but I held my composer. I had to get out of the house, I turned to go back upstairs and get dressed. I was in no condition to drive, but I knew Bernard would drive me where ever I wished to go as long as it was within my father's guidelines.

"Irish!" It came out as an intense whisper as I rounded the corner for the second set of stairs. Was he ok, or did Juan punish him as well for the event. The thought caused my heart to lurch in my chest and I was suddenly not physically sick. Just emotionally sick and I ran the rest of the way to my room to get dressed and try and find him; although I didn't know how I was going to do this.

*I got an email from someone wondering what both boys looked like a little more clearly. I couldn't figure out how to write this into the story at this point so I whipped up a quick character description of Aiden and Irish.

Aiden Chambers: 17 year old senior at All-Saint High School in Boston Mass. 5"11, 185lbs of lean athletic muscle, etched out six pack, broad shoulders, masculine hour glass figure with slightly wider hips and an above average round bubble butt, olive skin complexion, and medium length wavy brown hair worn pulled back into a pony tail, with piercing metallic grey eyes, and perfect white teeth. An all American kind of boy.

Alroy 'Irish' O'Doherty: 18 year old senior at All-Saint High School in Boston Mass. 6'1, 205lbs of lean strong muscle, wash board abs, broad shoulders that tapper down from his torso and stomach to a thin waist that lead in to strong muscular thighs and legs, firm and tight average size butt, fair skinned, with short fire red hair usually worn loose close to his head or under a skull cap or hoodie or spiked up, blue eyes (either piercing bright ocean blue or hollow washed out sapphire blue), perfect teeth except for two chipped incisors on the top right side of his face, pierced tongue. The example of a strong Irish American boy.



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