Friday, November 30, 2012

Dreaming of Dax Ch. 02

Answers and More Questions- A Search For Sexual Identity

The next morning, Saturday, I awoke early to find myself naked in Michael’s bed and nestled into his strong body. I could feel his hairy scrotum against my own ass and, with my face blushing crimson, it all came back to me. I didn’t want to wake him up and was careful to hold perfectly still, although, to be honest, I really had to piss.

Damn, that had been some fucked-up night! Remembering everything that my morbid fear of the storm set off, I needed time to think about the details—being kissed by Michael’s perfect mouth, how grinding against him had proven so satisfying and getting jacked off by this boy who wanted to make me his lover.

Oh my god, that really happened!

Physically, the sex had been mind-blowing. I had never done anything close to this with another boy before... or with a girl either, for that matter. I was a virgin, at least the spirit of the word… okay I had sex when I was younger, but it was non-consensual and nasty. This wasn’t. Even being inexperienced, I knew what felt good, and Michael made me feel fantastic. Desired, connected, loved. He was a lot more knowledgeable, but he had proven to be gentle and patient with me. Even remembering last night brought half a smile to my face and a forceful stir to my cock.

Emotionally, I was hitting the panic button because I didn’t know what to do. Yes, I had accepted Michael’s advances, but I wasn’t honestly sure if he seduced me or I had come on to him. I knew the difference between right and wrong, but I’d never been much on thinking about morals. My mother, when she wasn’t high as a kite or drinking herself to death, had bitterly expounded on how homosexuality was wrong, the work of the devil. Hey, maybe that’s why she didn’t like me. Not that I’d ever indicated any kind of sexual preference when I was younger, but who knows?

What had transpired between Michael and me should mean I’m gay and that he was too, but I felt so uncertain. He was my best friend; actually he was my only friend. Was the sex what I wanted because I was in love with him? Or did my mother’s neglect and selfishness and the way she let her boyfriends hurt me make me so lonely that I was vulnerable to the first sign of affection from anyone? Searching for anything I could find to fill the deep hole inside? I felt gratitude for all Michael had done, and I wanted to please him, but it seemed more like we were using each other to get off. Like experimenting because I was so hopeless.

I knew I didn’t have a lot going for me. No family for one thing. My father abandoned me when I was little, and my abusive mother had died two months before. Since then I had been staying with my friend, Michael Capshaw and his parents. In September, he rescued me from the bullies who have been targeting me since forever because of my size and effeminate looks. When the woman who gave birth to me passed, his mom and dad took me in because I had no other place to go. They treated me like their own and I was grateful to all of them. I was just that now, with sex entering the picture, I wasn’t sure what to do.

I slipped quietly out of bed to use the bathroom. Gazing into the mirror I noticed a dark bruise on my throat just above my right collarbone. “Damn it,” I swore quietly, remembering exactly how I got it but feeling none of the joy of being possessed by someone who marked me in love. Unless I could locate a shirt with a high enough collar, I was going to have to find a way to explain the hickey- to Michael’s parents whom I didn’t want to disappoint, and to the kids at school where total strangers would make obscene comments. Fan-fucking-tastic!

I went back to my own room to dress and located a long-sleeved polo shirt that barely covered the mark. Even though it was the weekend, the house was silent. I knew Michael’s parents weren’t home. Robert was on a distant business trip, expanding sales districts for his pharmaceutical company. Donna was occupied with her usual Saturday activity, organizing and supervising real estate Open Houses and hopefully making a sale. I wandered down to the kitchen for breakfast and brought a mug of coffee back upstairs.

I was in my bedroom working on my economics class term project when Michael wandered in nude, yawning and stretching. I forced myself not to look at him and pretended to be engrossed in my schoolwork, although I was fully aware of his beautiful burnished form striding across the floor, his hair like the sun and his balls and dick swinging freely. He was definitely not shy. I swallowed with difficulty, determined to be aloof, but I was glad that the lower half of my body was hidden under my computer stand. My cock was beginning to swell in my jeans, and I didn’t want Michael to see me with a hard-on.

“Hi, beautiful,” he greeted me, walking up behind me to wrap his arms around my shoulders and kiss my ear.

“Hey,” I said, forcing myself to act casual and not look up. “There’s coffee in the pot, and your mom texted me to say she made scrambled eggs and left them in the microwave.” I reached up and laid my hand against his wrist to acknowledge the affection. “Put some clothes on, okay?”

Michael sighed and released me, seeming to understand my reticence. “We need to talk about last night, Dax.”

“I know.” I looked up into his tawny eyes staring at me in doubt. I wished there was some way to avoid any kind of discussion about last night for the near future. “And we will. But if I don’t finish this assignment today I’m in deep shit.”

“Later then.” He ruffled my long hair, and I discreetly watched his perfect tanned ass moving towards the door. Oh god, his whole body was perfect, and the way he knew how to use it with my own…

Pushing my economy book to the side, I dropped my head in my hands and groaned. Despite the grinding and handjob from the night before, I had been trying to convince myself it really didn’t mean anything. My fully erect seven inch cock was throbbing, and I knew this wasn’t a typical reaction of a non-gay boy to another male. Growing up, I’d been in enough P.E. classes in school, with their enforced shower rules in the locker room, to know that most dicks stayed flaccid and anyone with an erection was automatically labeled as gay. Luckily I was never in that last category, so why was this happening to me now? Was it Michael? Was I attracted to him?

Getting up to silently lock my bedroom doors, I grabbed a box of tissues and unzipped my jeans. Believe it or not, I don’t masturbate, at least not until now. Call it delayed development or the trauma of being molested when I was fourteen or even being forced by my stupid mother to lose my virginity to a drug-addicted prostitute almost two years ago. But I couldn't get Michael off my mind, and I was hurting with no other outlet to relieve the pressure.

I shoved my pants and underwear down to my ankles and knelt next to my bed. With memories of Michael’s soft, pink lips gently kissing mine and his tongue in my mouth, of vividly imagining his hand stroking up and down my rigid flesh, I pulled and fisted with one hand while I cupped my balls and squeezed with the other. I moaned ever so quietly so Michael wouldn’t hear from the next room. The head of my cock was glistening with precum that coated my fingers and made sliding around the mushroom-shaped head easy and oh so pleasurable. My shaft grew warm with the slippery friction as I thrust into my hand.

In only a few minutes I brought myself to a shuddering climax that would’ve landed me on the floor if I hadn’t fallen against my bed. Convulsing, I spurted four strong ropes of pearly cum into my fingers with carefully suppressed grunts of intense ecstasy.

But that happiness was soon replaced by choking doubt and mistrust, and I began to cry. Oh god, I was gay, and I was hot for Michael, the boy who was like a brother to me.



I knew Dax was going to have second thoughts about last night. Despite his age and the ugly way he was forced to grow up, Dax was innocent and pure which was one of the things I’ve always loved about him. He was acting like a skittish colt, scared to death over sexual labels and compromising his morals, and it was up to me to ensure he didn’t think I was holding our time together over his head or expecting anything from him he wasn’t willing to give. I loved him, but I had no intention of forcing myself on him.

But let me tell you about last night. It was amazing. Who would’ve known Dax would be so scared by thunder and lightning, although if anyone deserved excuses for being afraid of a storm, it’s him. After surviving the trauma from his past? I just wanted to shout to the gods in thanksgiving that he ended up in bed with me. That ingenuous little ‘should I or shouldn’t I’ look on his face when he was trying to make up his mind whether to initiate a kiss was so cute! Dax was responsive in a way that took my breath away. I couldn’t believe he let me touch him or leave a hickey. Much less, that he allowed me to grind into him and then made him cum a second time when I jacked him off. I wasn’t trying to take advantage, but he made seducing him easy. And the peaceful yet elated look on his face at the end… oh my god! It satisfied my own needs just to see him enjoy it so much.

Dax has always been absolute perfection in my eyes. I recognized his quality the second I saw him as the shy, new student in my U.S. history class a year ago when we were juniors. It was the start of the second semester so of course everyone’s social structure was already in place in school, and here came Dax, registering late because he’d just moved to Santa Bella. It’s tough to start over in a new high school like that. His small stature and timid, quiet demeanor didn’t do him any favors either, and I didn’t envy him one bit. I could tell he had already figured out his disadvantages. The dread just rolled off him.

Maybe it was the scruffy clothes that were too big for him. He just happened to be my favorite body type, and shit, the way his jeans rode on those thin hips and his toned butt were two things I could’ve stared at all day. He couldn’t have been much more than five and a half feet tall and was very slender, which meant that, unfortunately, Dax was headed for jock gay-baiting whether it was true or not. I got the distinct impression his life wasn’t a happy one either, and he always kept his eyes down like he didn’t want to be noticed.

His complexion was very fair and translucent which was odd for southern California, even in the winter, leading me to assume he was from out of the area. He didn’t talk much… right, he didn’t talk at all except to answer questions from the teacher… so trying to pick up an accent and find out where he was from was hard. I just wanted a neutral starting point in case I ever had a chance to speak with him. I wanted a chance to say something nice, like giving him a compliment to make him blush, because he was even more adorable when his cheeks turned red.

While I did sympathize with him, my initial impressions of Dax were more typical of my age, and I’m sure you could have scraped me off the floor that first day. Damn, he was fucking stunning. Dax was probably the prettiest boy I had ever seen. I know ‘pretty’ isn’t a description most people apply to males, but certainly it fit him. His hair was a very straight dark blond, cut unevenly to his shoulders and pushed behind his ears. You could tell it was a natural because of the way it caught the sunlight and how soft and shiny it was. His eyes were his best feature, a beautiful melting-chocolate brown, and those lashes were long and thick, the kind that girls go for. The only thing spoiling the whole effect was the pair of square eyeglasses he wore that obscured those pretty peepers with frames so chunky they seemed to weigh him down.

That’s why when he moved in I immediately suggested he get contact lenses. Ditching the glasses changed his whole face. That face was slightly effeminate and young but gave evidence of what would turn into sharper angles in his future. He wasn’t even seventeen back then and was still growing through that teen transition between boy and man. Dax had the barest stubble on his jaw like he hadn’t been shaving for long and smooth skin. There was a slight bump in the middle of his nose that gave his delicate face character and pouty pink lips I instantly wanted to kiss. When he smiled, which wasn’t often, he had very white, straight teeth and his smile would light him up from the inside.

Given his bashfulness, I don’t even think he noticed me once last year in school even though I only sat two seats away from him in history and I said ‘hi’ every day. It wasn’t just me either. He ignored everyone who tried to be friends with him, and since he acted like a whipped puppy most of the time, I’m positive he wasn’t just being a snob. Once he got over the ‘new kid’ status and the other students noticed what a cutie he was, girls and guys were hitting on him. But he seemed to exist in his own little world that shut everyone else out.

There was something so sweet about Dax that tripped me up and made me feel over-protective, and I knew from past experiences that adolescence can be cruel. This was a boy my heart immediately did flip-flops over from that very first second, and I wanted to show him that he was worth loving. But his insecurities were so front and center, and not only did they blind him from the friendship people would have shared with him, they invited torment from the bullies like Lamont Shores and his homophobic gang.

Meeting Dax face-to-face was an unexpected encounter but lucky. This year, our last in high school, was a distinct disadvantage in that he wasn’t in a single one of my classes, but I kept tabs on him. I was friendly when I’d meet him in the halls. He bravely took a lot of teasing and jokes about his sexual orientation from the rest of the student body, but the assholes on the football team were downright vicious. I was just fortunate enough to be on my way out to the student parking lot the afternoon Lamont decided to flip Dax into a mud puddle. I helped him up, gratified to touch him for the first time and feeling his muscles tense under his wet t-shirt to push me away before he realized I wasn’t going to hurt him.

From that point on, although unplanned, it all came together as if by design. Dax plainly needed my help. He was a muddy mess, freaking out in my car over how mad his mother would be when she found out he’d been roughed up again by the group of thugs. I volunteered to bring him home so he could wash up and get his clothes laundered, hoping she’d be none the wiser.

But oh shit, talk about butterflies! I got to see Dax in a pair of boxers and my robe, and he has the most fantastic body for a skinny kid I’ve ever seen. Bony, fragile shoulders with a hint of muscle underneath, very pink nipples on a nice, well-formed chest and an almost concave torso. His legs were straight with sturdy thighs and well-muscled calves, and his pale, soft skin was creamy. A beautiful, flawless ass. I so wanted to wrap my arms around him and kiss his blushing cheeks and nuzzle his ears.

Okay, I know how jocks can be, that sometimes they just make assumptions because they’re the top of the food chain and can get away with it. Dax had been called gay since his arrival at Santa Bella High, and it’s unfair that guys like him get labeled as twinks. I had no idea in the beginning whether it was true or simply cruel name-calling, but I sort of suspected it in Dax’s case.

So in September I purposely put on those sweatpants commando-style to gauge his reaction, and it worked. Dax did his best to hide it, but he was sporting a hard-on under those shorts and I nearly came unglued. But I will adamantly challenge anyone who says I only became friends with him because of the seduction possibilities. I’m not that callous; I’ve truthfully been in love with the little guy for almost a year. I mean, who would’ve ever foretold that his mother would get hit by a car? Dax is well-rid of her, and as meanly as she treated him all his life, she deserved to die.

My parents are great, and they spoil me rotten. They are successful business people, and I have two older sisters who are away at college. That’s what happens when you’re the baby of the family and the only boy. Since they had already met Dax and saw his quality too, it was no trouble at all to talk them into letting Dax move in with us. No relatives to claim him meant the temporary soon became permanent, and they successfully applied for guardianship. So now I have a little brother that I love with all my heart, and he is so adorable.

It’s been two months since Dax moved in, and he’s settling in well. He volunteers to help my parents with chores and sometimes I’d like to tell him to give it a rest because he makes me look lazy. No, just kidding, he’s cool. You would think growing up as rough as he has that he’d be this selfish, condescending prick out to make people take pity on him and using it to his advantage to con them. Surprisingly, he’s very respectful, quiet and polite. He is shy and self-conscious, but he’s also fun to hang with. We have a lot of the same interests, and he’s a whiz a video games. Dax doesn’t drink, smoke or do drugs. He’s careful about using foul language, especially around adults. He studies diligently to get good grades, and he's really good at math and science.

Linnie and Jana like him, making them fairly observant for older sisters. My parents would have to be idiots not to love him too. He never makes a fuss. He isn’t picky about food. He learned manners from someone- not his mother, that’s for sure. He’s finally starting to sprout up which is good because he could stand to gain about twenty-five pounds and four or five inches. He’ll probably always be skinny, but he’s up to my ears in height now that he’s getting three solid meals a day from Mom. I mean, I like being bigger than him, but I’m not so selfish that I want Dax to be unhealthy.

I’ve always known I was gay. Since my early teens I’ve pursued boys, but you get to around that age and you sometimes wonder if maybe you’re full-on gay or you might be bisexual. Not that I ever had any feelings for girls, but I owed it to myself to discover the truth. I was just enough of a rebel and in denial that I had to find out. So yeah, I fooled around when I was fifteen to see if the other half of the population did anything special for me, and nada. Being with girls gave me the creepy-crawlies.

I happily went back to my real world, and I enjoy a varied sex life, top or bottom I don’t care. At the end of my sophomore year, before I even met Dax, I entered a long-term sexual relationship with another boy named Isaac Cramer. He’s the one I gave my virginity to, a year older than us and in college now. He was a player and kind of domineering, and out of nowhere he just dumped me after nine months. That was about three weeks before Dax entered the picture, and for the longest time I had to ask myself if he was just a rebound love interest. Isaac’s rejection hurt a lot, but he goes to school seven hundred miles away, and I’m okay with how it worked out. I have Dax, or I hope I do.

Like I told my new best friend, I’m out and proud, but here’s the thing. I’m only out at school; my parents don’t know I’m gay. It’s something I have never discussed with them because they would be so disappointed, me being the only boy in the family and all. I’ve always been super-discreet with my friends, especially my boyfriends, so I know how to be careful with Dax whether he says yes or no. I suppose thinking about that now is getting ahead of the game.

I have to wait for him to make a decision on his own, and I can’t influence him either way. It’s killing me because I want him to say yes so much. Unrequited love sucks, and I’m going to be crushed if he isn’t interested in more than friendship. He is all I’ve dreamed about for almost a year, and I can’t bear to live without him. And if he turns me down, it’s going to be damned awkward living in the same house with him. But I’ll have to manage because that, as they say, is life.



Knowing we would be alone all day and having the place to ourselves, I was afraid Michael would use the time and privacy to make excuses to bug me, and we’d end up kissing and hugging, eventually leading right back into his bed. The solitude placed a tremendous strain on me to come up with fast solutions which I wasn’t comfortable doing; I recognized I had a certain obligation to him because I was living in his house with nothing to give back. This caused no small quandary in the self-esteem area. I was pretty sure, when it came right down to it, that if he insisted I wouldn’t be able to tell him ‘no’, even if it was out of a sense of duty.

But Michael was true to his word; he left me completely alone and let me finish my school project. At 5:30 we decided to go get something to eat because one of Donna’s Open Houses lasted until eight and we were hungry. We had fast food hamburgers but it was a silent meal. At least Michael wasn’t pestering me for a decision, and I think my liking and respect for him went up a couple of notches just because he was being so patient.

I went back to my room once we got home, lost in thought, trying to make sense of the past two days. I came to one rapid decision. There could be no denying that my feelings for Michael went beyond friendship. I recalled my very physical reaction to him the day I met him, and even then I knew it wasn’t normal if I was straight. I had all these jealous emotions that came out of nowhere whenever the gay boys at school invaded what I’d come to think of as our personal space. I felt like I might be in love with Michael. I think I fell in love the second he pulled me out of that mud puddle in what felt like a lifetime ago. I knew from his vows last night that he was crazy about me and had loved me for a long time. It would only turn into a problem if I let it.

Beyond that, I was in a fog. There was a part of me that was afraid to acknowledge what most of the school population already suspects me of. I get enough teasing because I look gay; how much worse would it be once I admitted that I am? I was tired of the names and being used as a punching bag by the homophobic bastards at Santa Bella High. Michael might be out, but it didn’t seem to carry the same risks for him, probably because of his size and a certain amount of charisma he held. If I was gay, and I almost certainly believed I was, would I have to come out too?

And then there was a part that was afraid of what Michael had said about wanting to teach me everything about making love. I wasn’t so backwards that I didn’t know how men fucked each other, and I was scared. Some of it sounded embarrassing. I knew it could be painful, especially for the bottom, at least at first, and Michael would almost definitely want me to bottom. I could probably count on him to be as gentle in this area as he had so far, but I felt I at least had the right to be worried.

Michael was pacing the family room when I went downstairs for something to drink. He’d lit a fire because it was going to be another cold, rainy night, and I could see anxiety all over his face. In a perverse way it made me feel good, knowing that somebody was in love with me, waiting for me to make up my mind whether I could love back. I smiled at him.

“So?” he asked nervously, arching an eyebrow. “Anything yet?”

He was so beautiful, his red hair glowing in the firelight, and the fact that I held his happiness in my hands was kind of heady. And then, shit, it occurred to me that if I was thinking along these lines, my mind was already made up. He had never misled me, never pressed me to give more than I was able. Michael and I must be in love, and we were so lucky in comparison to almost everyone else in the world. How many boys our age actually get to live with the person they care about? We could be together all the time, and it didn’t mean I had to be out until I was ready for it. I think my defenses were finally breaking down. Michael was my hero, my best friend and offering to be my boyfriend. How could I resist?

“I’m good,” I grinned, and Michael looked like he wanted to do cartwheels.

Instead, he walked over to me and very formally asked if he had my permission to kiss me. “Can I?” He looked hopeful, but if his face wasn’t so dead serious I might have thought he was playing a prank.

I nodded, suddenly shy, and I couldn’t bring myself to look at him. Michael took my chin and lifted it. I held very still while his mouth hovered over mine and with one heartbeat we blended. With another, my lips parted and we were tasting each others’ tongues, and with the third we locked into an embrace.

Michael didn’t let it go on for too long and released me. “That was nice,” I whispered shyly.

He was gazing down at me, his tawny eyes shining in affection. “Dax,” he said sincerely, “I will never force you to do one single thing that makes you uncomfortable. If you don’t want to, tell me. If it’s something new, I will ask permission first, and we will go slowly. Do you understand?”

For an answer I melted into him to rest my forehead against his shoulder. His strong, sturdy arms went around my back to pull me closer, and it felt like the most natural thing in the world. “What do you want to do?” he asked.

“Just hold me,” I said. I was afraid I was going to cry over how sweet Michael was treating me. Nobody in my life had ever cared about me like he did, not even my own mother.

He turned off the lights. We sat on the couch to watch a tv program on the flat screen, and Michael let me cuddle into him with his arm around my shoulder, holding my hand. It was affectionate and cozy, and we talked about school and other general topics. Every once in awhile he’d give me a small peck on the cheek, and I started to relax. I hunkered down on the couch so I could lay my head against him, and his thumb gently stroked my knuckles on the hand he was holding. It occurred to me that this was exactly the private environment I’d worried about earlier, but without the discomfort. I shifted slightly in his embrace to throw my leg over his lap, and I pushed my face up into his neck.

I began to kiss Michael’s throat, and except for the stubble on his face, he skin was quite soft. He started to moan, scaring me a little, and I pulled away to look into his dark, sexy eyes. “You are seriously giving me a hard-on, babe,” he said, panting. I liked my new nickname- babe. He took my hand and placed it over the bulge in his jeans, and he was like a rock.

To be honest, it was turning me on too, but I was embarrassed because that wasn’t my intention. I was simply trying to show Michael that I wasn’t afraid to be physical with him, and I blushed and pulled away.

“Hey,” he said in a playful voice that was, nevertheless, husky with need. “I didn’t mean stop. But if this is heading any place intimate, maybe we should move it upstairs.”

I froze in indecision, but wanting him was all over my face. He rolled his eyes at me and jumped up with a grin. “Come on, Dax,” he said, grabbing my hand and pulling me towards the stairs.

I guess I was as needy as he was. By the time we reached his bedroom I was hopping up and down untying my Converses and yanking my jeans off my legs. Michael was bare-chested and I almost licked my lips at the sight of his beautiful body. His skin was so golden which was different than most redheads with their light skin tones and his tawny eyes stared at me in such caring possessiveness. I wanted to run my fingers over his flattened brown nipples and play with the crinkly little hairs around them that thickened as it drifted towards his navel.

Michael locked the doors into both of our bedroom while I finished undressing down to my briefs. He got equally naked and pulled me down on his bed with him to lie in his arms. We curled into each other, and I felt a puff of air play across lower face just before my lips took over his in a luscious, wet kiss. I let his tongue in to play and suck at mine, and his hand went up into my hair to massage my scalp. It felt so good, and I moaned into his mouth wantonly.

Losing our breath over and over we would come apart to gasp for air and resume our embrace, making out until our lips felt bruised. My cock stiffened like a bar of iron between my legs, and I felt Michael’s dick tenting his trunks into my thigh. Rolling around the bed, our hands roamed moist skin and stroked hard muscle. He trailed his fingers up my side, and I pulled at his nipples while he whimpered his approval. We were hyper-aroused, horny teenagers, and I felt like I was going to explode.

“Michael,” I begged. “I need to touch you.”

His eyes were fever-bright when he smiled and nodded at me, and I stuck my hand inside the skimpy cotton and pushed them down, palming his ass to drag him closer to me. At the same time he hooked his thumbs in my underwear to pull it down to my knees, and I toed it off the rest of the way. We were falling into another soul-scorching kiss when I reached between our bodies and began to jack him off. With a grunt, his fingers found my erection, and our hands were sliding in precum and he rocked his hips into my grasp.

“Faster,” he husked, his lips trailing across my jaw to my earlobe. He bit it gently and I took his lobe carefully with my lips before nibbling under his ear.

Minutes went by and all you could hear was the squelching sound of slippery hands and our groans. A throbbing began under my skin in my thighs and abdomen that I was starting to associate with my orgasm, and it built and swelled. We’d given up trying to kiss, both of us rasping in our efforts to just breathe, and every one of my exhales was a sound of need. My testicles were pulling into my body and I was there.

“So close, Michael, I’m so... oh fuck…”

I felt like I was shattering in a million pieces as my hips bucked crazily under their own power, and I spurt cum all over both our hands. Michael was watching me lose control with a look of ecstasy on his own face as my head dropped back on the sheets and I closed my eyes tightly.

“Oh god, Dax, that’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.”

Throughout my release I never stopped pumping Michael and I was probably squeezing the life out of his dick. Not that he was complaining. His whole body was twisting in the grips of his own bliss, and he was chanting my name as sweat dripped off his shoulders. Then his entire body went rigid and he cried out his own orgasm while he coated our abdomens with semen.

Tired, we fell limply into each other and kissed softly. “Are you okay, babe?” he asked me in concern, sweeping my hair off my face.

Surprisingly, I was. I felt nothing negative about what we had done. In fact, I felt like Michael was a part of me that had been missing and I didn’t even know it.

“I’m good,” I laughed. “Better than good.”

We got up to pee and brush our teeth, and Michael had me check the lock on my bedroom door while he did the same with his, leaving our rooms linked by the shared bath. “I want you to share my bed at night from now on,” he announced. “I want to wake up every morning to beautiful you next to me.”

I shivered in excitement and blushed, and he laughed at me in a pleasant way that didn’t hurt my feelings. I knew he enjoyed making me turn red, and it made me feel so wanted and loved.

“Why the locks, then?” I asked. I didn’t like misleading the only people who had ever shown me kindness.

“Partly for privacy so nobody walks in on us,” he laughed. “Like how embarrassing, right?” I giggled.

Michael looked down at his feet in sadness. “I said last night that I’m out, but my parents have no fucking clue I’m gay. I don’t want them learning of our relationship because it might hurt them. I’m not sure what they would do or whether they’d accept us as a couple. It’s better to lock the doors than have to explain. I can’t lose you, babe.”

Despite a small quiver of apprehension, I felt the love and immediately saw he was trying to look after me. Okay, he was protecting himself too, and we were deceiving his parents. But I knew how he felt, my very own big brother whom I was in love with. Who was I to argue with him in his house?



Dax awoke in my arms the next morning, and I couldn’t help but stare at my sexy new boy. His beautiful full lips were the first part to move, smacking over his dry mouth to get the saliva flowing again. His thick, blonde hair was spread out all over the pillow and hanging in his eyes, half-covering his face. These amazing squeaks and moans accompanied his stretching, and shoulders shrugged above the edge of the sheets, revealing his chest when his arms popped out above his head and he arched his back. The bruised mark I’d left on him Friday night stood out prominently on his throat, making me feel protective of my smaller boyfriend.

My boyfriend, my lover, my bro!

It was the most wonderful feeling in the world to have Dax accept himself and what we meant to each other. We celebrated with a long make-out session and a round of playful thrusting that had us sweaty and coated with cum before getting up to shower together. Then I got to wash Dax and shampoo his long hair, and he washed me. We used our hands to mutually get off teasing and touching each other into another orgasm in the shower. I knew our desire and attraction for each other were strong and would change a lot of things between us now; we were trying to keep to a normal routine similar to what we had before Friday night, but being lovers now superseded all else.

There were some minor details to get out of the way, and we spent Sunday talking.

I love Dax. I was proud to be his boyfriend, and I wanted to shout it to the world that he belonged to me. That meant I was eager to walk into school on Monday and openly show affection by kissing him, holding his hand, running my fingers through his hair and a thousand familiar gestures.

Dax shut that down immediately and said flaunting him and our new relationship in front of the student body was out of the question.

“I love you, Michael,” he acknowledged in a frightened voice, “but you know what will happen.”

I suppose he was right. I have been the butt of gay jokes at Santa Bella High since I came out as a sophomore, but I’m bigger and outwardly braver than Dax. Not that he’s a coward; the shit he’s lived through with his cruel mother and her men should’ve turned him into a drug-addicted psycho, and he tolerates gay jokes and verbal abuse every day at school without complaint. But face it, bashers like Lamont Shores beat up people like Dax.

“I’ll be there right by your side all the way, babe,” I tried to persuade him.

He shook his head. “You can’t be there 24/7 for me. If I come out, I will be targeted more than I already am.”

“I guess if I were you, Dax, I’d feel the same way,” I murmured, trying not to show my disappointment. I drew him to me for a deep kiss and fluffed his hair with my fingers. “But damn, I want to show your sexy little body off and make them see how lucky I am to have you.”

“There will be time later,” he encouraged, looking up at me with tears in his eyes. “Please don’t think I’m not proud to be with you. This was so new and different, it scares the shit out of me.” Or maybe it was just the fact that someone actually cared about Dax enough for a change to put his feelings first.

“Okay, beautiful,” I replied, kissing his wet cheek. “We’ll work on it.”

In the same vein, it was Dax who brought up the hickey on his collar bone which was barely covered by his shirt collar. “I don’t mind that you want to mark me,” he smiled shyly, flirting with his eyes and making me want to throw him down on the bed to kiss him until he begged for mercy. “But don’t you think they’re going to be difficult to explain?”

I knew what he meant, but seeing as how I’d just given in over the outward displays of affection at school, I wanted him to compromise. “That’s not fair,” I pouted. But he was having none of it.

He screwed up his face trying to be brave, and I realized the deep the effort it took for Dax to stand up for himself. He was also working hard not to hurt my feelings. “How about if you… um… leave them on my shoulder or… my chest? Somewhere nobody will see.” We didn’t have P.E. for our senior year, so there was no chance of Dax taking his clothes off at school and exposing himself to ridicule.

“Well, I don’t know…”

“If I show up in class with bruises all over my neck, we might as well walk through the halls making out. It will mean endless questions about who I’ve been with, and then everyone will figure it out.

“What about you?” he queried. “How will you explain the mark I left on your neck?”

I laughed. “That’s easy. Everyone at school think I’m a slut who will sleep with anyone.”

Oh man, that was the wrong thing to say. Dax suddenly got this hurt, wounded look in his eyes like he thought I meant him. I scooted over to him on the bed and took his trembling body in my arms. “They’re just words, babe.” I kissed him gently on the cheek. “It’s what others think of me, not what I am. You are my first boyfriend since last year.” At last he was appeased and pulled away from me.

“Okay, back to the subject.”

“You could lie about the marks,” I offered lightly, but I couldn’t hide the disappointment and feeling of dread. “You could make up some girlfriend.”

Dax shook his head. “I wouldn’t do that to you, Michael. Just because I’m not out at school doesn’t mean I’m going to pretend to be straight and say some girl did this.” He pointed to the hickeys. “Besides, I don’t want your parents asking questions either.”

Ah-ha, he had a good point. It was the best argument, and I agreed to go along with his suggestion of marking him in less conspicuous places.

This led to our next topic of discussion, the arrangement we were forced to come up with over how to keep my parents oblivious to our relationship. I mean, they would go ballistic over my orientation, and super freak if they discovered what Dax and I did in my room when they weren’t home.

But he doesn’t have a 3.98 GPA for nothing. “I don’t understand,” he pressed. “You say you’re out and proud, but your parents don’t know?”

“Just like you’re scared of what would happen at school, I’m afraid of my father’s reaction,” I acknowledged. “For now, we keep it a secret. Maybe by the time you’re ready to come out at school, I’ll be ready to tell Mom and Dad.”

“So Michael, if I sleep in your bed all the time,” he insisted, “they’re going to be suspicious when my sheets are always clean while yours look…”

“Sexed in?” I grinned wickedly. “We could do our own bedding, Dax, and say you’re rubbing off on me to be more responsible around the house. I like the rubbing off part.”

So, we decided to put on a show for my folks. The biggest problem was that Dax felt so guilty for lying, but he was cute in his embarrassment. We began timing the departures from our bedrooms so we rarely left at the same point in the morning. I’d let him yell for me from downstairs and pop through the kitchen grabbing a piece of toast for breakfast. Or I emerged first and called Dax as if we hadn’t just been together kissing and fumbling with each other seconds before.

At night it was easier since we stuck to a bedtime, but if we planned to get into some passionate loving and didn’t want to be overtired the next day at school, it meant both of us retiring a little early. Luckily, my parents were so successful and busy in their careers and we were such good kids in every other way, they barely paid attention to what time we went to bed. But it made Dax feel bad anyways. He was such a goody-goody in a lot of ways. No, that sounds mean. He just hated lying because he knew he was abusing my parents’ trust.

He kept urging me that I needed to tell Mom and Dad that I was gay, and they probably already knew but were waiting for me to acknowledge it. I don’t know what was so frightening about it because they were cool about a lot of other stuff that made most parents angry. Even when I was twelve and got hit by a car on my skateboard, running home with my wrist twisted around at this weird angle that definitely hinted at a fracture, they didn’t wig out.

I finally got Dax to leave it alone by announcing that I’d tell them I was gay as soon as he was willing to walk down the halls at Santa Bella High with his hand in mine and not care who knew we were sleeping together. That shut him up.



I settled in to my relationship with Michael. He was a peaceful influence on me not that I especially needed quieting down, but he made it easy for me to enjoy sex with him. I felt wanted like nobody ever had done to me before. Even though I wasn’t even eighteen yet, I got the impression that we could honestly stay together for the rest of our lives. He’d loved me for over a year, and I had secretly loved him for three months. Except for the concealment issues, it was a perfect arrangement.

We were celebrating our two-week anniversary. When Michael said he’d take things at my pace he meant it. All we had done up until now was jack each other off or grind into each other. Michael says it’s call frot. I didn’t need to know the real name, just that it felt good. We had sex every night, but I thought I was ready for the next step.

It was another weekend. Donna and Robert had gone out to dinner and left us home with take-out pizza. It was raining and we were bored with video games. There was nothing on television, so Michael and I just snuggled on the couch together.

He began planting little kisses all over my face and neck. Then he reached under my shirt to play with my chest and belly button, and it was turning me on. “Are you seriously just going to maul me like this or will it turn into something better?” I asked playfully.

He laughed. “Something better?” he asked back.

“Good answer,” I said. “Let’s go upstairs.”

By the time we reached Michael’s room I was breathing heavy with anticipation. He closed the bedroom door behind us and pushed me up against it. His eyes were glowing with barely concealed excitement and he licked his lips. “Just remember, any time you don’t like what I’m doing, say so and I’ll stop.”

He placed his forearms against the door on either side of my head and stood toe to toe with me. “I love you so much, Dax,” he whispered and leaned in for a passionate kiss. “Trust me.” He smelled like a shaded forest, the woodsy Santal cologne which I loved. His lips were warm and full, and his tongue licked across mine. Little tingles jumped between us.

“I love you too, Michael.” The locking of our lips was a connection of more than just mouths. It was like our souls colliding, an electric bonding that my body needed to feel whole. He slipped his tongue inside, and it took my breath away. There was a pull at my groin as my cock thickened and began to rise inside my pants. Moaning, I responded by wrapping my arms around his upper back and pushing back with my own tongue. The contact left me dizzy and my knees feeling as if they’d go out from under me.

Michael pulled my shirt up, twisting it around my wrists which he held over my head, literally trapping them inside. When it came off to reveal my body he looked at my shoulder with a deep bruise he’d put there two nights before and smirked at me, his eyes dark with lust. Kissing it gently, he murmured, “This says you’re mine. Mine forever, Dax.” I shivered.

With his other hand he began to feel down my body with splayed fingers, playing with the sparse, pale hair of my pits, working my shoulder and chest muscles, rolling and drawing at my nipples until they were red and puffy. Swooping in with his mouth, he sucked them rigid and had me gasping and whimpering. His tawny eyes were full of possession and need, and they raked my body as forcefully as any physical touch. I wriggled in excitement at how sensual it made me feel. My cock flared into full erection, straining against my shorts.

“Should I go lower?” he teased playfully, placing his hand against my stomach and swirling his finger gently into my belly button. His lips nuzzled behind my ear, and I arched my back in anticipation. I nodded in answer to his question, too overcome with the pleasurable sensations to speak. His lips and tongue worked my nipples until my head dropped backwards against the door in quiet submission, exposing my throat. I loved how Michael knew exactly what to do to make me beg and push me into higher plateaus of delight. His dominant nature did not frighten me at all; it turned me on like a light switch.

Michael gripped the front of my jeans and tugged outwards, his fingers brushing inside my shorts to straighten my hard dick so an inch of the head stood up stiffly above the waistband. He cupped the tip firmly, tracing the ridge with practiced fingers, and precum appeared at the slit. I couldn’t help but groan at his touch.

“Mouth or hand, Dax?” he asked, staring at me, his dark eyes glowing with desire. His hand slid down my pole from top to bottom. My need to be satisfied was playing on his emotions too, and my heart melted.

“M-m-mouth,” I pleaded in a whisper, breathing heavy.

He released my hands with an encouraging smile and pulled the t-shirt off my wrists. Tenderly he kissed me, lengthening and deepening it until our tongues wrestled with each other in a delicious tug-of-war. His lips left my mouth, teeth nipping at my earlobe and neck until it came to the hollow under my chin. He kissed it gently, mindful of our need for caution, and then moved to an area right above my armpit, sucking and marking the spot possessively. I moaned loudly. “Oh Michael, that feels so good.”

From there he slowly kissed his way down my chest and torso, hands moving ahead to clear the way and sliding against my skin seductively. I was whimpering and didn’t think my cock was going to last long enough for Michael to put it in his mouth; already it was throbbing and straining against the fabric, and I could barely resist jerking myself off.

“Hurry,” I begged, and his kiss turned into a smile that grazed teeth against navel.

When Michael mouth’s finally reached my lower abdomen and hovered mere inches above my cock all he did was blow on me with his warm breath. It forced a cry from my throat, and I felt as if I could no longer support my own weight and was going to fall over. I heard him chuckle, and he grabbed me up in his strong arms and carried me to the bed. He gave me a hungry look as he quickly undressed, and I couldn’t break the contact with his eyes until his plum-colored, seven and a half inch cock swung free and snapped back, erect against his torso. Then I stared at that. It was gorgeous and all for me.

Quickly, Michael crawled up the bed towards me. He leaned over and unzipped my jeans, sweeping his hands behind me and down my ass. Hooking his thumbs into the two waistbands, he pulled pants and shorts down my thighs in one bundle and threw them aside. Spreading my legs, he grabbed my engorged tool with both hands as he licked it from bottom to top. There was precum on the tip and he licked it off with a smile. My hips stuttered, and I whimpered openly. “Hurry,” I panted again.

“Delicious,” he laughed, knowing how aroused I was and making me cry out in needy impatience. It turned me on so much to feel his firm fingers stroking my pole. His mouth lowered again to suck on the slit and lave his tongue around the head, and it took all of my willpower not to cum right then. I shuddered, and Michael seemed to know I was struggling with control. He ringed the base tightly in his fingers, squeezing to buy me time.

With a tempting grin, Michael took my entire cock in his mouth and began to slurp on it. It was like my eyes forgot how to see, and my mouth went slack with pleasure, having never felt anything so heavenly in my life. His tongue roamed freely over the crown and against the ridge, and whimpers erupted from my throat. Using his saliva mixed with my precum, one hand slid down the shaft in a growing rhythm while the other stroked my sac and rolled my balls with practiced fingers. Oh shit, this was turning into the best night of my life.

My mind fused on his mouth and hands as my hips began to thrust towards him in desperate need. My gasping respirations didn’t do nearly enough to force air into my lungs, and I went hot as sweat popped out all over my body. Michael moaned his own desire for me, sending vibrations down my cock, and I could feel my climax building. I was caught in the eddies of warmth and wet as his lips and tongue worked me over, building higher until my balls pulled up tight, and then I just curled in on myself.

“Fuck… fuck… I’m… fuck.”

My cum ejected into Michael’s mouth as I slammed my head back against the pillows. I shuddered over and over as my hands wove into the quilt to fist and flex the fabric madly, hips pistoning impossibly high. I was unaware that he was swallowing every drop of me, but I felt his lips pulling on my slackening tool and milking me dry. Soon it reached a point where I had to push him off as my dick was too sensitive for movement, and he gathered me into a warm, loving embrace and held me tightly. “I love you, Dax,” he told me sincerely, and I believed him. He touched my face, kissing me hard and snuggling into my body.

After I calmed, I wanted to learn how to reciprocate, to show him love with my mouth, and I began to stroke him. His cock waved in an arched curve against my hip, clearly in need of attention. He was still rock hard, and my fingers flitted over the soft skin of his shaft and dipped into his dripping precum, making Michael groan. Licking my fingers I reveled in the saltiness. I lifted my head to stare him straight in his golden eyes. “Tell me what to do,” I begged hoarsely. “I want to make you cum.”

Michael’s eyes dilated in pleasure and goose bumps erupted across his torso. “You can start by kissing me,” he instructed, and I straddled his waist as his cock poked my spine. I lowered my mouth to his plush, pink lips and thrust my tongue inside, sucking hard. For several moments we lost ourselves in the heat of the kiss. I had never known that parts of a mouth could feel so good or cause so much exhilaration.

Next, I attacked his jaw and chin, taking little pecks of him and slid my face down to his throat. “Mark me,” he said. “Bite and suck here.” He pointed to a place on his neck near his shoulder, and I fastened my teeth and lips there. “Oh yeah,” he sighed, running his hands up my back into my hair. “Make me yours too.”

Under Michael’s guidance I slowly licked and sucked my way down to his chest, swiping my hands ahead of me over his muscular body. “So good,” he moaned, and I stroked his nipples, turning them into erect, reddened peaks. He began to writhe and gasp, telling me how great I was and how excited I was making him. I teased the rift where his pectorals met over his sternum with my finger and followed it down to his navel, as I fastened my mouth on one nipple and then the other, using lips and teeth to tease him. His cock was bobbing madly until I captured it under my thigh, and then I began to play with him, rocking on it. He groaned and rolled beneath me, urgently deciding I had prepared him enough, and I climbed off to draw my head level to his hips.

I was uncoordinated at first when I tried to suck Michael’s cock. He said to treat it like an icecream cone and lick it first, and from my own experiences I knew what parts felt best to stimulate. I used my tongue on the head and sucked him like a straw, and it set him to moaning so I must have been doing something right. I then switched to the back where the nerves came together, liking the way he jumped and cried out. My gag reflex was strong, but he taught me to breathe through my nose and relax my throat, and it slowly got better. I could take more of him into my mouth, and he whimpered his bliss.

Michael also liked having my hand squeezing his balls, and when my fingernail accidentally dragged across the skin behind them, he thrashed against it. I soon got a cadence going where I licked on the downstroke, sucked on the way up and slid my wrapped hand up and down his pole to cover what my mouth wouldn’t. Encouraging me with rapidly forceful moans and twitches, his hand gripped the back of my neck.

“Gotta fuck your mouth, Dax,” he hissed. “I promise I’ll be careful.”

Pace quickening, he held on to my head and his hips began to thrust at me, pushing his cock all the way inside. It took some concentrating and breath control, but I was accepting it without gagging. By the way his body locked, I sensed when he was near climaxing, and I rolled his balls in the palm of my hand. He threw his head back and his cock swelled and jerked in my mouth. As he came, he cried out my name and hosed my throat with thick blasts of hot cum. I wasn’t sure what to do so I swallowed. I took the whole load which didn’t taste bad and lost myself to running my fingers over his shrinking cock, feeling like I was in paradise.

Later, as he slipped back into the present, he pulled me up tiredly next to him and kissed me soundly.

“Not bad for a rookie,” he teased me, smiling into my hair, and I returned the smile feeling proud. I rolled over to kiss him deeply in appreciation, and he could taste himself on my lips. I could get used to this, I thought with serenity surrounding us. When it was just us two, life felt perfect.



I awoke the next morning in a great mood because Dax had been willing to take this new step without acting nervous afterwards. He was so easy to please. His responses were sexy and needy and it never got old. We were getting past the early commitment mysteries to a place where we were comfortable just being with each other.

I woke him up with kisses along his spine that made him giggle, and he retaliated with tickling me. This, of course, led us to sexy talk and staying in bed for an additional fifteen minutes of passionate 69-ing each other. Even after the one night he was getting good at blowjobs. My cock spewed cum in thick ropes on his tongue as I moaned his name like a chant. He says he likes the sound of his name on my lips. I like him on my lips, in my mouth, rocking off in my hands. I can’t get enough of making love to him in any way possible. Together forever, as I reminded him. It was becoming our motto.

Except for lunch, Dax and I didn’t spend much time together at school, seeing as how we didn’t share any classes. We communicated by ways of notes passed in the hall or stuck through locker doors and, if we were especially daring, a text message. Dax was a hopeless romantic.

He endeared himself by using the lyrics from songs we both knew. The day after our first hook up, he had written, ‘I’m nothing without you’ that I recognized from Three Days Grace.

Last week, he texted the last line of a 3 Doors Down chorus, ‘Your arms feel like home’.

He claimed that Coldplay’s Hurts Like Heaven, about the strength of love in the face of adversity, was our theme song. ‘You use your heart like a weapon and it hurts like heaven’. Over the course of the semester, he did this constantly, and it turned me on. My sweet, sexy little Dax.

The biggest sticking point between Dax and me concerned his future after high school. I could tell he was starting to worry, knowing graduation was only months away. Besides me and my parents, school was his second anchor. I was slated to attend collegee at CSU Humboldt, far to the north of us. Dax had excellent grades. It’s just that nobody ever took the time to sit him down with a guidance counselor to determine any definite goals for further schooling or see about getting scholarships or financial aid, and it was too late to enroll him for the fall term. His plans centered on the community college nearby, and that was a damned shame, as smart as he was. We ended up arguing about it off and on for several months.

Dax said he didn’t want to be a burden. “Once you leave for college, Michael, your parents will be done raising kids. They don’t need me around. I’ll get a job and find a place of my own to live. I’m not leaving you. I just need to learn to be responsible for myself, and I’ll be okay.”

“My mom and dad won’t mind,” I said, exasperated. “You don’t need to find somewhere else. Or you could move up to Eureka with me.”

Moving up north didn’t seem like an enviable idea to him either. He shook his head as if he knew I would never understand. “Come on,” he said. “What would I do in Eureka, Michael? You’ll be living on campus, busy with school and we’d hardly see each other.”

I tried to reason with him, but my arguments fell on deaf ears. He knew his own mother wasn’t a paragon of parenthood, but she had a point when she’d bemoan how she couldn’t wait for him to become an adult so she could off-load him. And no matter what Mom and Dad said, he was sure they probably felt the same way.

The way he was learning to take charge of himself was kind of scaring me. He seemed to be growing up before my eyes, and the sense of him leaving me behind, of losing him worried me. Except for the issue of coming out at school, he no longer acted the part of the scared little kid in need of protection. He was becoming a man, and I guess I wanted to keep him a child so he would depend on me alone. Right now, with Dax in my bed at night and having a lot of mostly-unsupervised time together, it felt so perfect.

Oh, I guess there was one other thing that bothered me. Dax was still terrified about the one bastion left to make him completely mine- letting me fuck him.



I grew to care about the Capshaws almost more than my own parents. They were the type of people who rarely raised their voices even when they were angry, and it took a lot to make them mad. Under their guidance and care I began to slowly expand away from my abused past. Once they realized just how badly my mother had treated me, they set me up for weekly therapy to discuss my so-called issues and deal with my feelings and give me someone objective to talk to. That was okay by me as long as I didn’t delve into my personal relationship with their son, and I learned a lot about myself that assuaged my guilty hang-ups and lessened my pent up anger at her. I guess I’m very fortunate that her neglect didn’t result in more-permanent scars, although it would take a long time to fully extinguish them. But mostly, I’m lucky that I met Michael and he loved me through it.

Michael resembled both his mom and dad; he had his father’s height and body shape, and facially looked most like him. From his mother he received his stunning golden-hazel eyes, skin color and high cheekbones. She claimed his auburn hair came from her side of the family and was a throwback to an older generation. I think he got the best of both worlds.

His sisters, Jana and Linnie, were also a mix of parents with Jana being a fair-skinned brunette and Linnie more blonde. Jana was in Arizona working in an elementary school internship on her way to a teaching credential, and Linnie attended UCSD, third year pre-law. They all had a very harmonious rapport with each other that I envied but felt fortunate to be part of, even if they weren’t my real family.

Michael’s parents hired an attorney for me to obtain money from my mother’s accident. This didn’t exactly thrill me; after all, it wasn’t the fault of the driver of the car that some woman had been drunk and walked out in front of him. But I guess that’s the way the insurance is supposed to work. I received a settlement which let me start paying Robert and Donna for room and board, despite how much they protested, and I banked the rest for future needs. I’m responsible with money, even with never having any of my own before, and I only bought a few items like a decent laptop for school. There was something that kept whispering in my head that I needed to save for the future and shouldn’t go crazy with it.

Everyone in the family seemed to be on a mission to truly integrate me into the nest. Michael’s two older sisters liked me because I gave off a shy vibe they could mother and I didn’t tread on their turf. I think Jana, the older one, the one whom Michael believed was the most open to his lifestyle, was suspicious but never mentioned it to either of us. The Capshaws fed and clothed me well and, combined with a nicely-timed growth spurt, I put on twenty pounds and gained two inches by late March. I was starting to feel like a normal teenager. Thank God I was finally growing out of my androgynous body.

Michael put no pressure on me at all to expand our relationship, and I was grateful. He was true to his word in January about not forcing me into something I wasn’t ready for. He made me feel so adored in bed, kissing and cuddling and talking sexy, and we indulged in satisfying each other’s needs many times a week. At school we were platonic friends, but the charade dropped as soon as we walked through the front door. He couldn’t keep his hands off me most of the time, and I would have to beg or negotiate for the time to do homework. He drove a hard bargain too.

It was a Friday in mid-March, and I was depressed because it was my mother’s birthday. It was the first one since her death and don’t ask me why, but it kind of hit me unexpectedly hard. I was feeling stressed out because Michael refused to drop the conversation over my plans for next year and why, if I’m paying room and board to his parents, I can’t live with them while he’s up at school and I attend college here. He doesn’t get that I need to find out what it means to be an adult by learning to stand on my own two feet. While they have done everything possible to make me feel at home, it isn’t my home. I am not a Capshaw.

Both Donna and Robert planned to work late, and we stopped at the local Subway shop to pick up sandwiches for dinner. He snagged up two beers from the refrigerator; we seldom drink, even with the loose supervision we get at home, but this was a different kind of day, and Michael thought I needed something extra to help me relax. We ate our early dinner and sipped the beer, and I began to calm down.

We were watching an old nineties movie, Dazed and Confused, on the huge flat screen in the family room and it was funny as hell. I was giggling at all the best parts, and Michael was throwing out lines ahead of the film which made me laugh even harder. I definitely identified with the characters of Mitch Kramer and his friends, trying to avoid being hazed after the baseball game since it was the story of my high school life. But all of a sudden Michael and I came together, kissing like mad and running our hands over each other in a frenzy. I guess that’s the best thing about the little disagreements I have with him, the make-up sex is great.

Movie forgotten, Michael yanked me to my feet and we flew to our bedroom. He threw off his clothes and then stripped me like he was demented before pushing me down on the bed. His tongue pried my lips open and swept in to invade my mouth as his hands pulled on my nipples and made them red and firm. I was breathing heavy, completely turned on. He was being far more forceful than usual, but I like how he dominated me.

He had me down on the bed, sliding his hand up and down my hard erection that was trapped under his hip, and I was leaking precum into a pool on my abdomen. “Beg me for it, Dax,” he said in his husky voice. His touch felt heavenly, and I was frantic with arousal. Tying to buck into him, I needed the quick release of thrusting, but he held me off. “Beg me for it like the little slut you are.”

Damn! I liked the way the beer had brought out this other, forceful part of Michael’s personality. “B-b-beg you for what?” I was playing along with the bitch role, pretending to be scared.

Michael tried to sneer, but he knew my fear was all an act so there was a hint of a smirk behind it. “Beg me to take you and make you all mine.”

He was sexy as hell, with his sleek body and brooding eyes, and all I could feel was his hand sliding down my pole to massage my nuts, tantalizing me. I would cum soon just from the touch, and all of a sudden I wanted him inside me more than anything. “Yes, Michael,” I whimpered. “Take all of me and do anything you want.”

He seemed surprised. “Anything?”

My eyes stared straight into his. “Anything. I need you inside me, Michael.”

My tender, sweet lover-brother stared back at me in delight. “Really, you want to?”

I nodded, and a huge smile lit him up. He leaned over to kiss me deeply in loving affection. “I promise I’ll be gentle. I’ll get you stretched and ready, but I can’t say…”

I lowered my eyes. “Yeah, I know it’s gonna hurt.”

“Oh, babe, I’ll do my best not to. I love you so much.” His heart was all over his face.

Michael arranged me on the bed and told me to lie on my back. Tucking a pillow under my hips, he got the KY and a condom out of his nightstand. He stared at the foil package for a long time.

“Dax, I want to go bareback so bad. But I don’t know if I should, not that there’s a risk. You’re the virgin.” I blushed, talking about my virginity. I knew all about Michael’s ex-lovers and how he’d always used protection and gotten himself routinely tested before meeting me. Before me, he hadn’t been with anyone for almost a year. He was clean. I was too; after I told Michael about my forced sex with the ‘ho, he made me go to the clinic to be on the safe side. We could do this without a condom since we were monogamous with each other. I had absolutely nothing to make me doubt that. And skin on skin without the latex in between…

“Okay, Michael,” I rasped. “Don’t use the condom.” He whooped in joy.

Settling both of us, Michael looked me in the eye and asked if I was ready. As much as I’d ever be, I told him, and he gave me a long, passionate kiss. “I’m going to relax you, babe. It will hurt less.”

Michael settled himself on the bed facing my ass. He looped his arms underneath my thighs to lift and separate them, and I felt him kiss and nibble on the tender cleft on my left where leg met groin. He licked and sucked, teething the small, sweaty tendon under my pubic hair before switching to the other side. I threw back my head in a long moan when his mouth opened to take in my testicles, first one and then the other to rotate and suck on them gently. My arousal kicked into high gear, and I began to whimper. My dick was hard as a rock and shiny with drops of precum, and I desperately needed to be stroked.

But Michael wasn’t focusing on that part of my body. From sucking on my balls his tongue moved down my perineum, and he began lapping at my back passage between the globes of my ass. Soft, wet and warm, his talented tongue painted my rosebud with saliva, and I about jumped off the bed. “Oh god, Michael, what are you doing?” I cried.

At that point, I think I lost all ability to think, much less speak, when he zeroed in and his tongue began to work its way slowly inside. He was fucking me with his tongue. In and out, the most incredible sensations charging through me as he opened my hole. His tongue just drilled me, going as far up inside as it could reach and it was like heaven. I writhed beneath him and tried not to scream in pleasure. The pressure was building in my groin, and I was dripping sweat, near delirious. Michael had to hold me down because I was bucking so hard. His hand reached up to find my cock and he squeezed it twice. That was all it took.

“Oh shit, oh fuck… I’m… oh fucking… I’m… for god sakes, don’t stop!”

I spasmed out of control, and my eyes rolled back in my head. Dizzying surges of satisfaction just burst through out of nowhere. I couldn’t breathe, and my hips thrust wildly. I was spurting in gushes, sticky ropes of cum flying up to land on my chin and nipples and stomach. I felt Michael’s mouth on my torso, lapping up the evidence.

After the sanity returned, Michael pulled himself back up next to me, and I rolled over and attacked his lips. Moaning and thrusting my tongue in his mouth, I tasted a musky flavor on his and realized that was me. I ran my fingers over his chest to pull his nipples, so caught up in the pleasure he’d given me.

“I thought you were going to fuck me,” I whispered, nibbling on his shoulder and teasing the head of his stiff, dark plum tool, flowing in precum. Michael’s eyes were golden-bright with lust, and my other hand swept down to knead his ass cheek.

“I am,” he groaned. His hand was gently pumping my cock and trying to restore it to life. “But I wanted you to be more relaxed, and I thought… I couldn’t help myself. You like?”

“Oh yeah,” I breathed as Michael’s slow masturbation stirred desire in me for round two. “Yeah, I really like.”

“Lie back down, Dax.”

He reached over for the cool lube and squirted some on his fingers and gently began rubbing my now-fluttering pucker in circles. I jumped at the first touch, surprised by the chill, and he apologized. Around and round, across my rosebud he touched me until one finger easily worked its way inside with no trouble.

Michael added more lube and doubled the digits to double the fun. Two fingers had a greater circumference than his tongue, and I knew not to tighten up and let it happen. It burned a little, and I felt a fullness inside that was at first uncomfortable. He leaned over to kiss me.

“Are you okay, Dax?” Michael asked sincerely, staring down at me. I nodded, and he began sawing his fingers in and out of my ass, scissoring me inside. The heat was beginning to build, and he reached a little higher until his fingers were sunk up to the top knuckle. I soon forgot the pain because there was pleasure there too.

He withdrew and, a push of his hand, there were three fingers inside me. It was the same as before, discomfort and a tight feeling, followed by warmth and a sense of being opened up. My erection flagged a little. I moaned, wanting to beg him to stop and just fuck me. Soon Michael was smiling and encouraging my progress. “You’re doing great, babe.”

He withdrew his fingers and knelt over me. “You should be nice and prepared,” he said, brushing my thick hair out of my sweaty face. “I’m relying on you to guide me, okay?” I nodded. “Don’t tighten up and stay focused.”

Michael dripped more KY on my crack and then on his thick, seven and a half inch cock to slick it up. Pushing my knees up and into my shoulders, he exposed my pucker and pushed a pillow under me to lift my hips. As he pressed the head of his penis against my hole, I stared directly into his eyes, seeing his love for me in them. He held my gaze as he leaned forward and pushed. The head was fighting to breach my ass, and I groaned, feeling resistance and intense pain. His cock was bigger than his tongue, wider than his fingers. Just at the edge of my portal and already I was beginning to regret this.

“Bear down,” he instructed.

I did as told and gasped as I felt the head pop through a ring of muscle. But it barely helped; tears flooded my eyes, and I threw my arm over my face to cover them. It was like I was being split in half. I couldn’t help my cries. “Ow-ow,” I gasped, my hips rising off the pillow and trying to dislodge him. “It hurts, Michael.”

Michael shushed me with a kiss and began to babble to calm me. “I love you. It will be okay, I promise. You’re doing fine for your first time, Dax. I’ll rest a few minutes before we go on. It gets better.”

I lay there without protest as I adjusted to his cock inside me and let the burning work its way out. Lying still and listening to Michael’s soothing words, the throbbing diminished slightly. Arching my back helped too, and he was as good as his promise. The pain faded into a dull ache that I could handle. A short time later, Michael began gently thrusting into me with short strokes that opened me up far more than his tongue had. An inch at a time, I felt the warmth fill me and spread out. Deeper and deeper, and my ass stretched for him.

At last there was a tingle in my balls as Michael sunk himself fully inside me. My own cock began to harden and grow again. The realization that I was no longer a virgin was almost overwhelming. I looked up at Michael with a smile, and he brought his mouth down on mine for a deep, tonguing kiss. He played with my nipples and nipped at my shoulder. I was getting fucked by my lover, and it wasn’t nearly as painful as I expected.

He began to move faster inside me. “You are so tight inside, Dax,” he said, panting and grimacing in effort.

His strokes lengthened and slowed. I felt full and warm, and the sensations built towards a sweet upsurge. Michael leaned forward on my belly to trap my erect cock between us and lay across my body. He was moaning, fucking my ass with deep, measured strokes. Then he twisted a bit, and his cock scraped over something inside that made me jump and whimper in delight. “That’s your prostate, Dax.” He grinned at me, teasing. “Maybe I should do that again.”

Oh god, I could almost imagine sparks inside me, like when you set a match ablaze or you light a sparkler firework. That one little area made all the difference in the world to my pleasure. I was in ecstasy, begging for more. Michael began to fuck me faster as he pushed his cock across that magic bundle, and my thoughts went away for awhile to center on my rapidly rising orgasm. I concentrated on that one pulse inside me as Michael began to thrust harder into me. I felt the change in my balls, the tightening.

“Shit… cumming now,” I groaned.

Michel grabbed my cock with his hand and fluttered his fingers up and down the shaft while palming the head. It was all I needed, and I exploded in the hardest, most exquisite and perfect orgasm of my life. I screamed and shuddered in uncontrollable ecstasy as it took over every inch of my body. My cum volleyed all over my stomach and chest, on Michael’s body and even the bedcovers.

In the meantime, witnessing my orgasm sent Michael flying into the chasm too, and my puckered hole gripped his cock and contracted rhythmically. He slammed into me, and I felt him cum inside my ass. Hot semen ejected inside me to fill my bowels, and presently he collapsed on top of me. Never had I felt so perfectly used and totally free. Never had I felt so sensual. I kissed him fiercely, my bro, whom I adored with all my heart.

We fell asleep together, clutching each other’s bodies tightly in a loving embrace. In what seemed hours later but was only eleven p.m., we woke up and 69-ed each other to another amazing orgasm. Then Michael made love to me again as dawn broke and the sky lightened. I lay there afterwards holding him in my arms and feeling so peaceful, thinking that life couldn’t get much better than this. So close, Michael and me, like two halves of a perfect whole. I loved him so much. Together forever, that was us.

(To be continued...)


  1. This was such a beautiful chapter! I hope you know what an amazing writer you are.

  2. Yeah this is an amazing story. I can't wait to see how you changed things around later on.