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    Mark Arbour
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

The Box - 6. Chapter 6

July 6, 1941

The festival ended this afternoon, and I can't say I was sad about that. I'd hung around with some of the guys in the early part of the afternoon, but it got too fucking hot so it was time to fade. The only reason I went in the first place was to see if Aaron would be there, but he was nowhere to be found. I was probably trying too hard. If he didn't want to be my friend, I couldn't force him. But the thought of losing him forever, of cutting off a friendship that had been the longest and best I'd had, just ripped my fucking guts out.

I thought about our last conversation. What was that shit about him saying that I wanted to turn him queer, into a punk? How come that was all my fault? Like he wasn't a willing participant, like he didn't tell me to fuck him. How fucking convenient for him to pin this whole thing on me. I didn't want to be his lover, I wanted to be his friend.

I look at that and can't believe I just wrote that last sentence. It's bullshit. Total bullshit. I'm lying to myself. I didn't want to be just his friend. I wanted to mess around with him like we did at the cabin. I wanted to fuck him again. I wanted him to fuck me. I wonder what that feels like. I'll bet it fucking hurts like hell. He seemed to like it though. Just the thought of being with him is making me horny as hell. I gotta go whack off.

Alright I'm back, only it's a lot later. No, I didn't whack off all day. I got hungry after I did that, and went down to grab some food. I was just about to pig out when Aaron came into the kitchen. It really surprised me, and I just stared at him. I mean, I figured after our last conversation we were done, even as friends. He knew he didn't have to knock when he came over to our house, but it still felt weird, since he pretty much didn't like me anymore.

“What's buzzin', cousin?” he'd said casually, with his trademark grin.

“Hey,” I'd said back, forcing myself to relax.

His demeanor changed after the initial greeting. “Is it OK that I just came in?” he asked nervously. I guess he felt the weirdness of that too.

“You've been walking in for ten years and it's been hip. Why would it be different now?” I asked.

“Because you hate me,” he said.

“I don't hate you. You hate me,” I snapped.

“Looks like we're both wrong then,” he said with his playful smile. Fucker. I felt myself melting.

“You just came over here because it's cool and it's cheaper than going to the movies,” I teased him back. We have one of only two air-conditioned homes in the city. The other house belongs to my aunt and uncle. The Hendricksons are supposedly getting it put in, if for no other reason than to keep up with the rest of us. My mom had been the driving force behind getting it installed. She'd been really worried about my grandfather, and how the heat fucked him up. My dad didn't even dream about bitching about how much it cost.

“Yep. You found me out. So you wanna just goof around?” he asked. I nodded and grabbed a bunch of food, then dragged him up to my room. The upstairs didn't get as cool as the rest of the house, but it was way cooler than outside. He flopped on my bed, his arms behind his head, and since he was wearing a sleeveless shirt, the sexy hair in his pits was there, front and center. I sat next to him and set the food on the bed, and he leaned up while we munched out.

We ate and shot the breeze until I remembered the question I had to ask him. “Why did you tell people Kim Alpers blew me?”

“I'm really sorry about that,” he said, and looked into my eyes so sincerely I had to forgive him. “She was going around saying bad stuff about you, and it snapped my cap.”

“What did she say?” I demanded. What would have pissed him off?

“She said you were a square kisser,” he said.

“Bitch,” I'd said. That really pissed me off. I thought I kissed pretty well. “You still seeing Allison?”

“Yeah,” he said. “One of her friends thinks you're pretty hep.”

“One of her friends?” I asked. There weren't many of Allison's friends that I liked. They were all pretty stupid.

“Barbie Gaines,” he said. I looked at him, kind of shocked. Barbie Gaines was probably the only friend of Allison's that I liked enough to go out with. Her father was a lawyer in town, and my mother and her mother were friends. She was classy, real Fifth-Avenue. Plus she was really pretty, way prettier than Kim. She had brown hair, long legs, and big tits.

“Yeah, like she'd give me the time of day.” There was no way she'd go out with me. She was out of my league.

“You always sell yourself short,” Aaron said.

“Why would she want to go out with me?” I demanded.

“You gotta get your boots on,” he'd said, using his new slang term for ‘you need to understand.’ “She wants to go out with you because you're smart, you're drooly, and you drive a Packard,” he said, joking, only kind of not.

“Oh swell. She likes me for my car,” I said sullenly.

“No, but it helps. You gotta use all your tools man. Look at Jim. The guy's an asshole, but he gets girls all the time, just because he's out there grandstanding. You could do that well if you just had a little confidence, if you gammed it up,” he said.

“Why are you trying to fix me up?” I demanded. Was he doing this so he wouldn't think I was queer?

“So we can double-date again,” he said playfully. Only that wasn't it. I was right the first time. He didn't want to think he was queer, and to do that, he didn't want to think I was queer. So he was going to set me up with a girl.

“I don't know,” I told him. “I'll think about it.”

“You'll think about it until you grow old and die,” he said. “Let's go out tomorrow night. We'll catch a movie or cut a rug. She sees you beating your hoofs, she'll think you're a hep cat.” I was a pretty good dancer.

I looked at him really hard and he shrunk before my stare. “You already got it planned.”

He sighed and nodded. “Yeah. She really likes you, and she talked Allison into talking me into it.” Barbie really likes me that much? Wow.

“So the only reason you're over here goofing around with me is so I'll go on this date, Allison will be happy, and you'll get laid,” I said bitterly. “It's all about you being on active duty.”

“Well yeah,” he said, trying to joke. Only I didn't laugh. He sighed. “Look Steve, we've been friends for fucking ever. What we did really flipped me out. I miss you, I miss being your friend. I'm trying to get back to that, OK?”

“You're just trying to make sure I'm not a punk before you're my friend again.”

“Are you?” he asked.

“No. The only guy I ever wanted to do that shit with was you,” I told him. “And this is gonna sound fucking weird as hell, but it kills me that you didn't like it.” I was trying to tell him how much I cared about him, without sounding like more of a fag than I already did.

“I didn't say I didn't like it,” he said nervously. I looked at him and saw the problem. He may have been the only guy I thought about, but I wasn't the only guy he thought about. It was kind of a revelation, to realize he wasn't worried about me being queer as much as himself. This was about him being worried about his feelings.

“So you weren't disgusted with me, and you weren't creeped out because it was me?” I asked. I needed to make sure that it wasn't because he thought I was a square.

“No. If I was gonna do that shit, you're the one I'd wanna do it with,” he said. I thought about pushing the issue, but that wouldn't get me anywhere, so I let it go.

“So where are we going tomorrow?” I asked. He grinned really big.

“Let's go see Sergeant York,” he said. I just agreed.

We bullshitted for a while, talked about stuff, and he just left. And now I'm kind of flipping out. Am I queer? Am I a punk? I don't think so. I mean, I liked that shit I did with Kim. I really liked it. And Barbie is so much prettier. Damn. I wonder if she'd let me play with her boobs? Then I thought of Aaron, and how much I'd loved blowing him, and fucking him. Damn, that was heaven. What does it mean if I like fucking around with both of them?

July 7, 1941

Un-fucking-believable. I made out with Barbie Gaines, and she is a way better kisser than Kim. Not as good as Aaron, but better than Kim. She didn't let me play with her tits, but I touched them. I asked her out for the day after tomorrow, so I'm pretty excited about that. We're gonna go frolic so I can show her my dance moves. Maybe if we're alone, she'll let me go further. I didn't really get to talk to her all that much. Not something you do in a movie. But we'll be dragging a hoof next time, so we'll be able to get to know each other a little better. Dancing is a lot more conducive to talking than a movie. I guess I'm not the wolf that some guys are. I need to like a girl to really do stuff with her. I think Aaron can just fuck someone to get off. I can't do that.

Maybe that's what he was doing with me in the cabin. Maybe it was all about getting off. It was more than that to me. I wonder if I really am queer. If I were a punk, would I have enjoyed making out with Barbie that much? I was so hard if she'd have so much as touched me she'd have set me off. Fuck. This is so fucking confusing.

We'd seen Sergeant York and it was a good movie. It was kind of scary though. The movie opened with the newsreels, and the whole fucking world was in flames, all except for us. The Germans were kicking the Russians' asses. Fuck. They were just blowing through them. They'd be in Moscow in a few weeks at this rate. Plus they were beating the shit out of the English in North Africa. I heard some guys saying the Germans would probably have control of the Suez Canal by the end of the year. Could anyone stop those crazy bastards? Could we?

It was kind of shitty, watching the movie after that, because I kept thinking that it wouldn't be too long before I'd be fighting in a fucking war, and it didn't sound like much fun. What if I got killed? Fuck. I still hadn't fucked a girl. Would I die a virgin? I sure as fuck hope not.

What if Barbie Gaines let me fuck her? How fucking cool would that be? She hung out with girls that were sluts, but she didn't seem that way herself. Would she put out like they did? Gotta go whack off again.

July 10, 1941

I just had the most un-fucking-believable 24 hours of my life. OK, except for the time in the cabin with Aaron. I went out on my date with Barbie and had a blast. She's a real doll. We went out to eat and just talked about stuff, about what we liked. She digs art, which is just OK with me, but it was fun to see her all animated. She wants to go to college at Oberlin. Not me. I'm aiming for one of the Ivies back east. If that doesn't work, I guess there's always Ohio State.

We went back to her house and I was going to drop her off, but she said her parents weren't home and invited me in. We went in and I was all nervous, but I finally got enough balls to start making out with her. The next thing I know, she's got her shirt off, and there are her big, beautiful tits right in front of me, begging me to play with them. I was getting so worked up, just sucking on her nipples, when I felt her hand grab my dick through my pants. I almost came. I unzipped my zipper and she pulled my dick out and just stroked it real gently, her touch so soft. I tried to return the favor, but she wouldn't let me get into her panties, so I just enjoyed kissing her and playing with her tits while she jerked me off. I shot like a gallon of cum. It was amazing. After that, she got all nervous, and so did I, so I left pretty quickly. I didn't want her parents coming home and finding me with my dick out. I already had to deal with that with my mother and it had ruined me and Kim. Still, it had led me here, and Barbie was so much cuter, and her tits were so fun to play with.

Next day, today, I go to work, no big deal. After dinner Aaron comes over and has this shit-eating grin on his face. I guess Barbie told Allison that I was like some super-lover or something, and he thought that was funny as hell. I'm still fucking blushing. Me? Super-lover? Not hardly. I just enjoy her, and I enjoyed her body. I remember how Kim let me lick her, and how good that tasted. God, I hope Barbie lets me do that. Damn. I'll really work on it, really do a good job. It would be so amazing to make her feel good like that. And maybe she'd suck my dick in return.

Then Aaron and I are hanging out and he starts asking me about her. “So are you gonna go frolic with her this weekend?” Just the thought of that made me smile. She is a good dancer.

“No,” I'd said simply.

“Why not? Man, you may get it. She may let you fuck her,” he said.

“She's going out of town, to Cleveland for a wedding or picnic or something,” I told him. He nodded.

“Allison's got plans this weekend too,” he said glumly. Then he got this big smile on his face. “Wanna go up to the cabin?” I just stared at him. I never thought he'd want to go back there with me after what happened, after he flipped out. I guess I waited too long and he got all nervous. “I mean, I can understand if you don't want to go with me.”

“That's bullshit. I want to go. That's niftic! We'll have a ball,” I told him. I couldn't hide my grin, and neither could he, so we're going to leave tomorrow and stay until Sunday.

I'm so excited, but I'm a little nervous too. Is he going up there so we can fuck around again? God, I hope so. The thought of fucking him again always makes me hard as a rock. Or is he going up there to prove that we won't, to prove that we're not punks? What do I do if he makes the moves on me? Do I stop him, or let him? Fuck. This is so confusing.

I'm thinking that if he does something and I say no, that's like rejecting him, and I can't hurt him like that. If he does it, I'll go with it. But what if he's just testing me? I guess I could worry about this all fucking night. I think I'll just let him take the lead this time, since he's the one that's got his panties in a wad about it. He makes the moves, I'll respond. He doesn't, I won't.

July 13, 1941

OK, I have to lay this out, to describe this whole weekend, the good and the bad, so I never forget it. We both got off work at noon and left early so we could get there before it got dark. We stopped and bought some food and shit, and Aaron makes this major score. We're at this hick store, and he looks older than 16, so he ends up buying us a bottle of whiskey. I was kind of spazzing, because I only drank a few times before that, and that was only at family events. A glass of wine or something.

“I can't believe you did that,” I'd said to him.

“I can't believe the guy sold it to me. Let's get drunk off our asses,” he said, grinning. We got to the cabin and put all the shit away. I'm pretty organized about shit like that, and he knows that, so I think he humors me.

We started taking drinks from the bottle and it was some nasty shit. I grabbed a couple of cokes to drink with it, and that helped. After a while, we had the brains to put the whiskey in the cokes. We just drank and drank until I looked at him and we just started laughing our asses off. We were so shitfaced. We drank about a third of the bottle and then I felt kind of sick, so I stopped drinking, but ended up puking anyway. So did he. But it was pretty funny, because after that, I was fine. “Let's go swimming!” he said.

“It's dark,” I said, for some reason.

“So?” he said. We stripped off our clothes and ran down to the lake. The moon was full, enough to lighten the night so I could watch his cute ass jiggle in front of me as he ran. I knew I was getting hard, so when we got to the water I just jumped in. It wasn't really cold, but it felt that way. We were there splashing and fucking around when all of a sudden he tackled me and pushed me under the water. I swallowed half the fucking lake and I was kind of floundering around, trying to breathe, when I felt him pick me up. “You OK? I'm sorry,” he said.

“I'm fine,” I said. Only he was holding me and our bodies were pressed against each other, and we were both hard as a rock.

He looked down at me and smiled. “Maybe you need some mouth-to-mouth resuscitation?”

“Maybe I do,” I said. As soon as I'd said the last word his lips were on mine. I wrapped my arms around him, then my legs, gripping him while our lips, then our tongues reunited. I thought about Barbie and kissing her, but this was nothing like that. This was on a whole different level. Our bodies ground together, the feel of his dick against mine was driving me to the edge, and then over.

I broke off the kiss long enough to say “cumming!” then I did. He didn't cum with me, it took him a bit longer, but I didn't give a shit. It felt so good. After he blew and we were floating in the water, I got all nervous. I didn't let go of him, like I was afraid if I did he'd freak out, but he didn't. He just smiled down at me and kissed me again.

“You OK with this?” I asked him nervously.

“You afraid I'll snap my cap on you again?” he asked. I just nodded. “We both got girlfriends, and we'd both be with them if we could. Since we can't, this is a fucking blast. Just two guys, helping each other get off.”

“Yeah,” I lied. It was way more than that for me. We went up to the cabin, dried off, had some more whiskey, and then went to bed together. I was already horny again. Fuck, with Aaron, I was horny all over again about a minute after I blew. He pushed me onto the bed, being all dominant, and it was awesome. He was on top of me, grinding into me, really getting my motor going.

He stopped and pulled up, grinning with this glazed look. “My turn to fuck you.”

I was drunk off my ass, but I would have let him even if I had been sober. He spun me over and grabbed the Vaseline. “Just go slow, OK?” I asked. He was really moving quickly. He slapped some lube on my hole and pushed it in with his fingers, then lubed up his cock and lay on top of me. I was nervous as hell, and I was scared shitless. He didn't do any of the shit to me that I'd done to him. I felt his cock pushing against my hole.

“Let me in,” he said, and then pushed harder. I felt his cock ramming into me, ripping my ass open. Pain seared through me, flew through my whole body. As drunk as I was, I was in agony. I heard myself cry, and I heard myself crying. “It hurts at first, but gets better,” he said simply. Then he crammed his dick all the way in.

Nothing had ever hurt that bad. I buried my face in the pillow and screamed at the top of my lungs, but he ignored me. He just started moving in and out, fucking me. He went slowly, I think he was trying to make it better, but it hurt so fucking bad all I could do was bury my head in the pillow. “Yeah. So good,” he said. Then he just grunted loudly as he fucked me. I figured he'd blow soon, but I guess the quick wad he'd blown in the lake kept him going. On and on he went. I thought the torture would never end. He got into it a little more then, getting all keyed up, and re-oriented himself so he was fucking me at a different angle. The pain slowly started to fade away, and then he started to hit this place in my ass. It felt good, real good, good enough to almost dull the pain. I started to get into it, to try and enjoy it, and then he came. I felt him tense and just slam into me, blowing his load inside me. It was like his jizz was aimed right at that place in my ass and it was slamming into it. Then he was done, and he pulled out quickly. Having him out of my ass all of a sudden left this big void, and I felt my ass spasm at the loss, creating even more pain.

“That was amazing,” he said to me, nibbling on my ear. I made sighing noises and moved my head against the pillow to wipe away my tears. I forced myself to pass out with him on top of me, trying to just enjoy that it was Aaron and not to think about how badly he'd hurt me. I was worried that my whole weekend would be ruined.

The next morning I woke up with a massive headache, but it kind of faded when I felt his hand gently stroking my back. “Morning,” he said with a big grin.

“Morning,” I said, smiling back.

“Steve, last night, that was the most amazing thing I've ever experienced,” he said. I felt his hand move lower to my ass and I cringed. Only his touches were gentle, his fingers running down my crack and barely grazing my hole. He kissed my neck and the side of my face while his fingers gently moved over my hole. “Baby, I woke up this morning and wanted you to fuck me, but I want to be in you so bad. Can I? Can I please?” he asked.

I remembered the pain, the sheer agony, but nodded anyway. There really wasn't anything I wouldn't do for him, and if getting my ass reamed once in a while made him happy, well, ream away. His mouth worked me so sweetly, kissing my face, the back of my neck, the spot behind my ear, and I felt so loved. I felt myself responding to him, and his fingers as he moved one inside me. Only he wasn't forcing it in, he was moving in slowly, probing me, looking for that button he'd found last night. He found it and it changed my whole attitude. I moaned and moved back into his hand, craving more, more touches, more pressure.

“That's it baby, that's it. Get ready for my big dick. I'm gonna make you feel so good. So fucking good,” he whispered in my ear. I felt my ass stretch wider as he pushed another finger in. He kept talking to me, relaxing me, and then he moved on top of me. I got really nervous then and tensed up.

“Go slow, OK?” I asked again.

“Baby, I'm going to go so slow I won't fill your ass up until noon,” he said so sweetly as he pushed in just a little bit. “You're gonna make me feel so good, and I'm gonna make you enjoy it just as much.” I moaned and pushed back into him, my movements pushing his head inside me. Slowly he'd move in then stop, letting me get used to him, then push in some more, until he was completely inside me, his cock buried in my ass. Only unlike last night, it didn't hurt at all. It was a little uncomfortable, but it didn't hurt.

He started moving then, moving in and out, keeping up that slow pace. He'd push in and just freeze, his hard cock pushing against my spot, then he'd pull back out again. I felt myself completely losing it, felt a whole different type of pleasure flow over me that I'd never felt before. It was incredible. He was going slow, too slow, so I started moving my ass, trying to get more of him. I turned sideways and saw his smile. “It's good isn't it?”

“Yeah,” I moaned more than spoke. “So good.” He started pistoning in and out of me, going faster, but I was with him. I felt his cock swelling in my ass, but it didn't hurt, it felt great. My dick was moving against the bed, against the cotton fabric, and the stimulation, raw and unyielding, was setting me over the edge. I felt my load building, building for what seemed like forever. “I'm gonna cum!” I said, more of a shriek. Only I didn't, not right away. It just kept building and building and then I came.

I saw stars, I swear to God! I was moaning and screaming so loud I couldn't breathe, my whole body was convulsing. I lost track of what he was doing; all I could feel was his big cock in my ass, taking me to a place I never dreamed even existed. I rode the orgasm, rode it forever, and then he came with a loud roar, and my orgasm kept going, roaring along with him. When he was done he just collapsed on me, his dick still buried in my ass, my cock still twitching as it spit out the last few wads of my load.

“So what do you want to do today?” he asked me playfully.

“That,” I said without hesitation. “I want to do that all day long.” He chuckled and kissed the side of my face, and then we actually drifted off to sleep.

We slept for a while, but woke up when I heard his stomach growling. I laughed, and he got up to get food, but I wouldn't let him. “No way. Not yet,” I said. This time it was my turn, my turn to fuck him again. I did the same things to him he'd done to me, really taking my time to loosen him up, and when I pushed my dick into him, he took it almost like it was nothing. I rode his ass for a while, I was so drained from our morning fuck, and he pushed along with me, moaning like an old whore. His tight ass wrapped around my cock felt so good, too good, and I came first, but he wasn't far behind me. When I was done I left my cock jammed in his ass and reached around to take over from him and nurse the last bit of his load out.

“Food,” he said, cracking me up. We got up and made a huge breakfast, even though it was almost noon, and pigged out. “You know, I'm always so fucking horny. I'll blow a load, and five minutes later I'm usually boning again. This time I came so fucking hard I'm actually calm now,” he joked.

“Yeah, you won't be for long,” I said. “My turn. I want you back inside me,” I said, sounding like a slut.

“You do, eh?” he teased. He stood up and his dick was already getting hard. We headed back to the bedroom and this time he fucked me while I was on my back, so I could look at him, and he could lean down and kiss me from time to time. It was so much different from the time before that, because this time it wasn't so much about our bodies moving in sync, it was about us, about us being together.

After we came he collapsed on top of me, my cum acting like cement, sealing us together. It might seem gross to some people, but not to me. To me, it was awesome. I lay there with him on top of me and wrapped my arms and legs around him as tightly as I could. “This is nice, this is a blast,” he said cheerfully.

“Yeah, it is,” I said. Only something happened while I was lying there with him. All the confusion, the sadness, the agony I'd felt when he'd blown me off after our last trip up here, all of that was replaced by the euphoria of being with him. And that was it. I didn't want to be with anyone else. No one, no one could do this to me, could make me feel like this. It wasn't about the sex, well, it was, but not entirely. It was about being with him, about being one with him. It was about being in love with him.

And that's when I knew he wasn't just my best friend, and I wasn't just playing around with him to get off. I was head over heels in love with him. We fucked around all day Saturday, and almost all day Sunday, so much that my balls ached. But that didn't stop me. And when I looked into his eyes, whether he was in me, whether I was in him, or whether we were just enjoying an interlude, I felt the same thing from him that I felt.

I wanted to tell him so badly, to look at him and say “I love you” and have him say it back, but I knew better. I knew that would probably be just as damaging as what happened last time, and I couldn't bear that. Besides, they were just words, just three words. I knew I love him, and I was pretty damn sure he loves me. That was going to have to be good enough.

We finally drove home and didn't get back until right before dinner. I was kind of worried that now that we were home, he'd be all hands off. We headed upstairs to take a shower and change. “Uh, you want to take a shower with me?” I'd asked him shyly.

“I'll get naked with you anytime,” he said, and followed me into the shower. He made love to me again, and I felt that same magic all over again. He ate dinner with us, and then I took him home. We drove up to his house, and he looked around nervously before he got out.

“I'll see you tomorrow?” I asked.

“Yeah,” he said, and grinned. “I'd kiss you goodbye but the neighbors wouldn't understand.”

I laughed at him, giggled at him like a doll, and then came back here to write this down as fast as I could, so I didn't forget a thing.

 

 

1999

I sat there, stunned. “What is it?” JP asked.

“It is so strange to hear this story of how he lost his virginity, and it is so similar to my own,” I said.

“Someone raped you?” Matt asked, horrified.

“No, you do not understand,” I said.

“Well what happened then?” he asked, challenging my logic.

“The first man I was with was a fat Parisian businessman with a very small penis. In fact, it is probably the smallest I have ever encountered. So when he fucked me, it was as if someone was sticking a pinky up my ass.” The thought of him and his needle dick made me giggle. “The second man I picked up was a sailor with a big dick. He was actually a nice guy, just really inexperienced. I did not think so at the time, but I understand now. He was very aggressive, and did not stop to think about me. He did not know what he was doing. He fucked me much as my father described there, thinking that it was OK, that I would enjoy it. After that is when I encountered Marc,” I said. Then I kind of gasped, feeling that horrible feeling of having stuck my sleek Bally loafer right into my mouth.

“It is OK, Stef,” Robbie said, calming and reassuring me. He could be annoying, he whined a lot, but whenever my back was against the wall, he helped me out. I winked at him to thank him.

“He found me in the Luxembourg, sitting sideways on the lawn and crying softly,” I said, remembering how bad my ass had hurt. It hurt so bad I couldn't sit on it. “He took me back to his apartment and helped me recover, and then he showed me how beautiful sex could be, how much fun.”

“So he was like a pimp?” Matt asked, frustrating me. JP saw my frustration and chuckled, which made me even more irritated, and it dawned on me that he was doing to me what I always did to him, and that cracked me up.

“Anyway,” I said, ignoring Matt, “I had two separate men, my father had one. So he probably understood what Aaron did.”

“Dude, that made me horny,” Matt said, leering at Wade as he got up. He motioned his head toward their bedroom.

“What doesn't?” Wade asked rhetorically. Then he grinned and followed Matt.

“Guess your dad wrote good porn,” Robbie joked.

“Why does that surprise you? Maybe it's genetic,” Brad said.

I rolled my eyes at them and dragged JP off and made him fuck me into a better mood.

Copyright © 2011 Mark Arbour; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
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It is so strange to read about something that damn near repeated itsef twenty years apart. You almost wonder if there is a genetic proponent but it is more just fate, I think.

 

I love how JP can read Stef and vice versa. They just make the cutest couple.

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