Ups and Downs

Joey

I didn’t have to go to work at the hardware store until after lunch the day that I saw Ethan off to college, so I spent the rest of the morning just moping around town. I went to the same stores where we had shopped the day before. I made a point of looking for and feeling the items that we had bought and even the ones he tried on and put back. I went so far as to take some of them into the changing room to smell the scent of him—real or imaginary—and to try them on, even though I knew they would not fit. I just had to feel him close to me, however vicariously.

I ate lunch in the food court, the same Hawaiian pizza that he had ordered—even though I hate ham and pineapple on a pizza—and sat at the same table where he and I had sat. I could almost see him sitting across from me, rubbing his leg against mine under the table, not really caring whether anyone noticed or not.

Dad had to go to the Auburn store that weekend, so I took the late shift in order to be there to lock up that night. Just as I was getting ready to lock the front door, Joey showed up. I had completely forgotten that I had told him I would be there and that he could come by and “play” if he wanted. Oh, he wanted all right. He had come in with his older brother several times that summer, but while his brother had participated energetically in the sexual activities, Joey didn’t do much more than watch and jack off. I had the sense that he wanted more but that he wanted to do it with no one else around but him and me. I will admit that I really wasn’t in the mood, but I had promised to see him, and I am nothing if not a man of my word.

Joey seemed to feel a particular affinity for me. Maybe it was because we were the same age (although I wasn’t totally convinced that his ID wasn’t faked). Maybe it was because he thought we shared a name, sort of. He didn’t exactly know that my real name wasn’t Joe, but Julius, and I sure as hell wasn’t about to tell him. But he was a good kid, and I figured if I had taken one kid’s virginity that day, I could take another one.

I made sure to lock the door after I let Joey in and everyone else had left. I didn’t have to lead him into the store room. He was very familiar with the territory by then. He was definitely nervous, though, so I took it slowly. We talked for a bit, mostly just small talk about what he had been doing and what his plans were for the future. As we talked, I held his hand, occasionally rubbed his leg through his worn jeans, and eventually removed his white T-shirt.

Slowly, I kissed Joey on the cheek and then on the lips. He took a deep breath, trying to steel up the courage for what was to come. I whispered reassurances as I rubbed his chest, which was surprisingly well developed. I discovered that his nipples were particularly sensitive when I kneaded them between my fingers. He jumped. I smiled sympathetically and then kissed them, sucked on them, and even nibbled gently. All of these things were apparently new to Joey. He was apprehensive, but he made no effort to stop me.

I could see that my treatment of his nipples had produced the desired effect. He began squirming at the discomfort he was obviously feeling from the compression in his jeans. His cock was stretching the denim as much as it could and appeared desperate for the chance to break free, so I obliged him. I unzipped his jeans, pulled them down below his knees and caressed his beautiful tool as he squirmed with delight. It was almost as if no one else had ever even touched his dick before.

Joey gasped for breath when I covered his cock with my mouth. Apparently, he had never had a blow job before either. This was definitely a night of firsts for him…with much more to come. I knew he couldn’t last long. He was about to burst. I threw a moving blanket on the floor and laid him on it. I removed the rest of his clothes and his work boots. Now, he was lying before me completely naked, and he was quite a beautiful sight to behold. With his rapt attention, I slowly undressed myself, letting him drink in the delights of a naked man standing before him.

He began rubbing his dick to quell the itch, but I took his hands and moved them away. “Not yet,” I cautioned. “Not yet.” I wanted him to know what it felt like to be on the other end of a blow job, so I lay next to him and rubbed my hard dick and balls against his face. He purred. I inserted my penis into his mouth, and he took it in cautiously, but happily. I explained to him that it was not enough just to let the dick move in and out of your mouth. “You have to suck it,” I said. “Use your tongue,” and when he did I squeaked at the gratification pulsing through my dick, which brought a moan of delight from him. He was discovering how to give and receive pleasure with a man, and he delighted in the growing enlightenment, and I was delighted to witness it.

It was time for the next step. I repositioned myself over him in the 69 position. I didn’t have to explain to him how we would suck each other’s dick simultaneously. By that time, he was ready and happy to venture forth, and he was beginning to get the hang of it. For someone who had never sucked dick before, he wasn’t doing too badly.

“Oh shit!” He moaned. “Oh fuck! I’m gonna cum,” and before he could repeat that sentence, he exploded in my mouth, spewing forth a lot more cream than I had expected. I almost gagged on it. When I complimented him on having produced such a big load, he grinned with self-satisfaction—like he had just scored the winning touchdown in the All-State Championship.

I swallowed as much of his nectar as I could. I didn’t think he was quite ready for snowballing, but I wanted to give him a taste, so with just a light coating of his cum still in my mouth, I kissed him. Much to my surprise, he accepted my tongue in his mouth willingly and happily. He even sucked on my tongue as if he were trying to squeeze out every last remaining drop of cum in my mouth.

I chatted with him casually to give him a few minutes to regenerate. As it turned out, we had several interests in common, and I was actually beginning to feel grateful that I had not cancelled on him. He really was a nice kid, and just as I had felt gratified at having helped Ethan discover his own sexuality, I was now beginning to feel that same sense of accomplishment, however early in the process, with Joey.

After several more minutes of after play and foreplay, I rolled him over on his belly and gently probed his ass with one finger. Naturally, he flinched at first, and I could tell he felt squeamish about what was to come. I asked him if he wanted me to stop, but he insisted that he wanted to see this step through to completion. I poured some lube onto my finger and some at his hole and slowly resumed the penetration, first with one finger and then with two.

I leaned against his back, rubbing my inflated cock against his crack and whispering reassurances into his ear. I told him how handsome I thought he was and what a hot stud he was. I probably would have said these things with any virgin, but with him, it was easy because I truly believed the things I was saying, and I think he felt my sincerity. I was gaining his trust.

“Relax,” I whispered. “I’m going in now. This will hurt a bit at first, but once your sphincter muscles adjust, the pain will subside and be replaced by nothing but pleasure.”

“I trust you,” he sighed. And that made me feel really good, ya know.

As I slowly inserted my engorged penis into his hole, I leaned forward periodically to kiss the back of his neck or whisper comforting reassurances into his ear.

Of course, I gave him time to adjust once my dick was fully inserted, but I didn’t have to ask if he was ready. He let me know when he was ready.

I moved slowly at first, pressing my dick into him slowly and pulling back with equal steadiness. When I heard him purr, I knew that it was okay to speed up, so I did. I didn’t want to pound him savagely as I often did with the guys I fucked. I didn’t think he was quite ready for that—maybe in a few weeks. So, I fucked assertively, but not ferociously.

I felt that familiar tingling in my balls and the inside of my dick. The juices were starting to boil. I let Joey know that I was about to blow. “Do it, Joe! Fuck me! I want to feel you explode inside of me.”

The moment was at hand when, “BAM!” A loud crash interrupted our mood and enthusiasm. It sounded like someone had dropped a heavy crate of nails. My back was to the door, where the sound seemed to have emanated. I tried to turn to see what had happened, but it was a bit awkward at first with my dick inside the man lying under me. Regretfully, I had to pull out of Joey’s ass to turn around and see what had caused the noise. Sure enough, a crate of nails lay scattered all over the floor, but the crate had not just fallen off of a shelf. It had been dropped by the man standing in the doorway.

Fire burned in my father’s eyes as he glared at me, gritting his teeth, the veins in his neck looking like they would burst wide open.

“Lock up,” he ordered, trying as hard as he could to control his temper. And as he turned to walk away, he stopped, looked back at me, and added, “And clean up this mess,” but the gesture that accompanied his words indicated that when he said “mess,” he was referring to more than just the spilled nails.

I felt like shit. Not just because my dad had caught me in a compromising position, but because I had ruined Joey’s rite of passage. I begged his forgiveness and promised to make it up to him. He behaved very graciously, but I just knew he had to be traumatized, maybe even for life. He offered to help me pick up the nails, but I couldn’t let him do that, not after I had ruined his evening, so I hugged and kissed him and sent him on his way.

I took my time picking up the nails, which also had to be sorted because they were of several different sizes and types. Frankly, I wasn’t in any rush to get home because I was scared to death of what awaited me there. And what did await me was a real shocker.

When I pulled up in front of our house, I found all of my belongings, such as they were, scattered all over the front lawn. My parents were obviously inside, but my sister Amy, age 15 sat on the steps to the porch.

“What happened, Joe? Dad has flipped out. He yelled his head off and just started throwing your stuff out of the house. ‘I WILL NOT have no GODDAM FAGGOT living under my roof!’ he screamed.”

I have to admit those words hurt—not just because they were such a strong rejection of me, but because I never thought my dad could be such a bigot.

“What will you do, Joe? Where will you go?”

I had no fucking idea what I would do or where I would go, so I just shrugged my shoulders and started picking up some of my clothes, but Amy took my arm and counseled me. (She always was immeasurably mature for her age.) “Joe, you shouldn’t be here right now. If Dad comes out and sees you here, I don’t know what he’ll do. I’ve never seen him like this before.”

“But my things—”

“I’ll clean up this stuff and put them away in some boxes. You can pick them up in the morning after Dad has left for work.”

When I couldn’t get my feet to move, Amy nudged me, but not before slipping something into my pocket. “It’s not much,” she said, “but it should get you a motel room for the night.”

“Oh, Amy, I can’t—”

“You would do the same for me,” Amy insisted. “You’ve always been there for me. Now go. I’ll see you in the morning.”

As much as I hated to leave Amy with that mess, I sure as hell didn’t want to see her caught in the middle if Dad should come storming out of the house in a rage, so I turned, got back into my car and drove. I must have driven around mindlessly for at least a couple of hours before I decided to go back to the store. I couldn’t see spending Amy’s money on a motel room, and I figured I could sleep on the ugly green couch in the break room and get the hell out before Dad came in for work. But what I found when I pulled up in front of the store came as a complete surprise.

“Wh…what are you doing here…at this hour?”

(to be continued)