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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. 

From Behind Those Eyes - 8. Chapter 8

After the phone call to his mom and us returning her car to her, we were finally standing in my room, once again alone and about to spend the night with each other for the second night in a row. He seemed nervous this time, not like last night, and I wondered why. We had just spent the most amazing evening together, with the beautiful picnic he surprised me with next to the river, and he was fine all night, until right now.

“Jess, are you alright?” I asked him. If he didn’t want to be here I hoped that he would’ve said something.

“I’m okay,” he said, but I didn’t really believe that, he didn’t look okay at all. He looked more like he was a nauseous, uncomfortable mess inside.

“You don’t look okay to me,” I said. “Unless you always look like you’re about to be sick, which you don’t,” I pointed out.

He sighed and I walked over to him and gathered him in my arms. “What’s going on Jess? Just tell me what’s bothering you, please. I can’t fix it if you don’t tell me what’s wrong,” I rationalized.

“I’m being dumb, just forget it okay,” he pleaded, hoping I would just let it go. I wasn’t about to forget it, but I figured I would back off a little and see what happened, maybe he would tell me on his own.

“I don’t think I have anything that will fit you Jess,” I said as I looked through my drawers in search of something he could sleep in.

“It’s okay Stephen, I can just sleep in my boxers, if you don’t care,” he suggested. Of course I didn’t care, but I wanted him to be comfortable, and he was already acting uptight about something.

“That’s cool with me,” I said, trying to act unaffected by his suggestion, although inside I was truly excited about the idea of being next to him all night like that.

“So where’s the bathroom?” he asked.

“I’ll show you,” I volunteered and he followed me down the hall to the bathroom where I gave him a toothbrush and then left him to get ready for bed. I was back in my room in just my t-shirt, socks and underwear when he returned still fully clothed.

“My turn,” I said as I headed out the door. I hoped that whatever was bugging him wouldn’t affect our night together. It had been perfect up until now and I really wanted him to enjoy the rest, not be unhappy and worried.

When I got through in the bathroom and walked back to my room I found him sitting on the edge of the bed in just his boxers. He really was beautiful to look at. Every time I saw him like that I was physically reminded that I was gay. My body just reacted to the sight of him, without fail, and there was no hiding it. I couldn’t help myself, I had to be near him. I crossed the room and took the seat beside him on my bed.

“You’re shaking,” I said, noticing he was shivering a little. My arms were immediately around him trying to warm him up.

“Well, I’m cold,” he said, stating the obvious.

“It’s not that cold,” I argued, my hands making long, smooth strokes from his shoulders to where his soft skin met the elastic waistband of the only covering he had left on his body.

“Well, you’re still dressed,” he pointed out. I stood up pulling him up with me and folded back the corner of the sheets and comforter inviting him into my bed for the first time. His eyes met mine just once, briefly, for affirmation before he climbed in and I covered him up.

Double checking that I had indeed closed my door, I took off my socks and then my shirt followed, leaving me in a similar state of undress. His eyes were watching my every move as I turned back the blankets and climbed into my bed next to him. I shivered momentarily at the cool feeling of the sheets against my skin. I settled in next to him and turned my head to find him looking at me.

“Better?” I asked hoping he was warming up some and feeling a bit more comfortable.

He nodded his reply to me, not saying anything. I smiled at him gently before turning toward him. He watched me moving, but he made no move toward me. “Jess, what are you doing all the way over there?” I asked, as if the space between us was much more than the one foot it actually was. Silence.

It was making me crazy waiting for him to answer, and finally after a minute he asked, “Are you really sure this is okay Stephen? I mean what if your Dad walks in and sees us?” He had a point there, a substantial reason to be concerned, but in all actuality I had been thinking more and more about just telling my Dad that I was gay. This obviously was not the way I wanted him to find out, but it wouldn’t be the end of the world to me if he saw us like this, at least I hoped not. I guess one of us had to be reasonable, rational about this, but I wasn’t in the mood currently to be thinking or worrying about that.

“I’m sure,” I stated clearly. I wanted him next to me now. “Come here,” I said, my voice deep with desire and emotion. It was as if the simple assurance I had given him was enough to put him at ease finally and he turned in my direction. I pulled his body toward mine, our bodies intertwining as soon as physically possible.

“That’s better,” I said as I took notice of the way his hands were almost kneading the muscles in my back. It was suddenly a lot warmer under the blankets than when we had first climbed into my bed.

“Yeah, it is,” he agreed before I felt his lips on my own. There was no hesitation for either of us. We had become comfortably familiar, the feeling of the other’s mouth on our own. My lips parted inviting him in and the moment his tongue found mine, I felt it, the sensation that only he could make me feel. I rolled backward a little and his body followed mine, ending up halfway on top of me. I could feel the hardness he had confined still by only a thin piece of cotton material pressing against my hip. I shifted toward him, lifting him by the hips, wanting more of his body in contact with mine. Pulling his body back down onto mine, his hard cock brushed my own, and my hips involuntarily pushed up in response. I heard the groan that came from deep in his throat as he felt the friction my movement caused.

His knees settled in on either side of my hips, his mouth moving down my neck. I felt him placing soft kisses across my shoulder and back across to my throat, and when he bit down gently, dragging his teeth across my skin my fingers clenched the skin of his back. It was when I felt him intentionally pressing his erection against mine that I moaned, “Oh… Jess.”

“Hmm?” he murmured before his mouth came down over my chest. I felt his hot breath first, and then the warm moisture from the inside of his mouth for just a moment before his tongue ran over my nipple and my back arched up off the bed.

“Oh fuck!” I moaned as my hands moved to his head, holding it in place, my fingers clutching his hair. His mouth moved down my bare skin kissing and nibbling across the ridges of muscle that made up my stomach before his mouth came over my other nipple, sucking it into his mouth. The groan I let out from the back of my throat was enough to let him know that he better not stop what he was doing any time soon. He had moved back some so that he could reach my stomach, and when he moved back up again to kiss me, I felt the unmistakable pressure of his cock on mine. I instinctively reached down, grabbing his hips and pressing my own painfully erect cock up against his, and the low growl only I heard told me that he felt the same need for more contact that I did.

I began to think about that, wanting to make him feel the pleasure he was making me feel, and I wondered silently, as his mouth was working on the sensitive spot behind my ear, if I could get myself to touch him… there. I wanted to, but there was fear. I was apprehensive. I didn’t want to do anything to make him uncomfortable, although I was fairly certain that any contact I provided with that part of him would be appreciated given the way he had slowly started to grind against me in an erotic rhythm. Still, I had never touched anyone like that before, and I wanted it to be right.

I had tentatively pulled my hand away from his hip twice now from where it had been holding on tightly, and then after hesitating put it back. I was getting nowhere fast. After a quick review of the nights events, I realized that I wanted to touch him, and I considered how I would react if his hand suddenly was on me before I made up my mind. I was going to do it. I just had to figure out how.

I momentarily forgot about the task at hand when I felt him kissing around my mouth but making no real contact. I reached up and grabbed the back of his head pulling his mouth onto mine needing him to kiss me like I knew he could. My hands slid down, resting on his back, when I decided that the time had come. Slowly, as if not to seem obvious, I slid my hand down his back, stopping when I felt the waistband of his underwear before tracing the elastic around to his hip. It was now or never.

I slowly pulled my hand back away from his hip for the third time and reached between us. Gently I brushed just the tip to see how he would react and I felt his fingers tighten on my skin. I took that as a good sign and decided that I would go for it. I wanted it. I gently took his cock in my hand. It felt different somehow than holding my own and yet familiar too. His boxers were still providing a thin barrier between our skin, but I could feel the heat, the hardness of it as I held it in my hand.

He suddenly gasped before pulling his mouth off mine to say, “Oh God!” I knew he couldn’t see it since his forehead was currently pressed against my shoulder, but I smiled. I was proud of myself, excited, that I could elicit such a reaction from him. I was slowly getting accustomed to having his hard cock in my hand and I began to explore it a little further. Squeezing gently, rubbing, stroking him slowly, learning how he felt. He pressed against the palm of my hand, wanting more pressure, more friction. It was when his breathing became more of a panting than his normal intake of air that he grabbed my wrist, putting a stop to any movement I was making against his erection. I could feel it pulsating against the palm of my hand as he prevented me from moving any further.

I wondered why he stopped me when it was obviously feeling so good. He pulled my hand away, and before I could release the grip I had on him, my hand made one final stroke against his cock sending a tremor through his body. The groan that came from him sounded like he was in pain. His head was still resting on my shoulder so I whispered hesitantly in his ear, “Jess?” but he made no reply. I was worried. I was trying to figure out why he was making such agonizing noises and not saying anything. Had I hurt him? I didn’t think I did anything to hurt him, but now I was beginning to wonder.

He rolled over and landed gently beside me on the bed. I missed the weight of his body on mine, the heat between us that I lost when he moved off me. His hands covered his face as he lay next to me trying to get his breathing to return to normal.

“I’m sorry,” I quickly said out if pure instinct, not really sure what I was apologizing for.

“What?” he finally asked, confused by my apology. “What for?” he continued, his second question much less accusatory than his first. In fact he sounded suddenly more concerned than he had been just a moment earlier.

“Uh, because…,” I started to say before I realized that I wasn’t even really sure what happened in the first place. “I’m sorry if I hurt you,” I managed to let the difficult words stumble out of my mouth.

“You didn’t hurt me,” he said flatly.

“Oh,” was all I could think to say, becoming more confused by the second. The thought occurred to me that maybe he didn’t want me touching him… there. I rolled away from him onto my side and I heard the exasperated sigh he let out as I left him to stare at my back. I felt him moving around next to me in the bed but I couldn’t see what he was doing. I was sure that he was getting up to leave when he spoke again.

“Stephen?” he said, trying to get me to turn back in his direction. I didn’t turn though, instead I said nothing in response. I had a million crazy thoughts running through my head and I couldn’t get myself to focus on any one of them long enough to make sense of what had just happened. “Baby listen, we have to talk about this,” he stated in a very composed way. That just frustrated me even more. The fact that while I was going absolutely crazy, he had the ability to be rational. “Please?” he requested, his soothing hand landing gently on my arm in a silent plea for some type of acknowledgement from me. I rolled reservedly back in his direction to find him sitting up on the corner of the bed. He had chosen about the furthest possible place from me without actually leaving the bed altogether. He must have seen the frown come over my face because he quickly tried to explain saying, “Look, I just need a little space between us right now so I can get this out.”

I was trying not to take offense to that, since somewhere in my almost non existent conscious thought I knew he didn’t mean it that the way it sounded, but the look of concern on my face was unmistakable. “Please, for me?” He was pleading with me, his eyes begging me to understand his meaning. I nodded, but I was sure he could tell how uncomfortable I was with what was happening. “Good, just sit over there,” he said as he motioned to the other side of the bed. The frown was back again and this time I was almost certain that I wasn’t going to like hearing what he was about to say.

“Okay look,” he began, “I just… wow,” he trailed off.

“Is that supposed to mean something that I actually understand?” I asked him shortly, my frustration with the situation becoming less and less easy to hide.

“You’re mad,” he said redundantly. I didn’t say anything, but the look on my face pretty much confirmed his previous observation. He took a deep breath, trying to gather his thoughts a bit before starting again saying, “Okay, what I’m trying to say, and not even remotely well, is that we need to talk about sex.”

That wasn’t at all what I expected to hear come from his mouth and the shocked look I had was a pretty clear indication of that. “Sex?” I repeated, my brain still trying to understand what was going on.

“Well yeah, I mean, how do you feel about it?” he asked me.

How DID I feel about it? I knew that it was something I wanted to do at some point in the future, but I hadn’t really thought much about when exactly, and if his reaction to me touching him was any indication of my abilities in that department then I suspected that it would be quite some time still. “How do I feel about it?” I said, not able to get out my own thoughts, leaving me no choice but to repeat the question.

He laughed when I said that. First he pulls away from me, and now he is laughing at me, fuckin’ great! “Are you gonna just keep repeating everything I say?” he asked.

“No,” I said shortly, but we both knew that I was struggling with the topic at hand.

“Well, just tell me what you’re thinking then,” he suggested. That sounded simple enough, and I would’ve loved to grant his request if, I knew what I was thinking.

“Jess, what’s this all about? Did I do something wrong before?” I asked, seriously beginning to worry that I might have ruined everything. If I did, I guess I didn’t have much to lose by asking this question.

“Wrong?” he almost shouted. “No baby, wrong isn’t exactly the word I would use.” The smile that he flashed me as he started to blush made me feel a little braver and now that I had forced myself to calm down enough to focus on what he was saying, I realized that this was the second time he had referred to me as his ‘baby’, and I smiled at the thought. If it wasn’t wrong, and I didn’t hurt him, then what was it exactly?

“What would you call it then?” I asked him needing to know what he was feeling. I mean this was my first time ever touching someone else like that. He looked at me like I was asking him the stupidest question ever. I was officially lost, it wasn’t wrong, or painful, and now I was asking dumb questions.

After a glance in his direction, wondering about his silence, he said, “Perfect.”

How could he be calling what just happened perfect? I definitely wouldn’t define perfect as being worried and frustrated and separated from my mostly naked boyfriend by a huge bed. “Perfect,” I said, my voice full of exasperation.

“You’re doing it again,” he said, referring to the fact that I just repeated what he said again. “And yes, that’s what I said, perfect.” I needed to hear more, to understand what he was thinking.

Bravely I got myself to ask, “What was so perfect about it?” I really wasn’t understanding; I mean I knew I was new to this whole sex, touching, kissing thing, but how could it have been perfect if he stopped me from touching him?

“Well, it was perfect because I was with you…,” he paused as I saw his cheeks redden even more. That intrigued me, something told me that he had more to say.

“And?” I pushed, wanting to hear more.

“And what?” he asked. “What do you want to know?” The list of things I wanted to know was long, but I figured I would start with the obvious question.

“How come you don’t want me to touch you?” I asked, my curiosity and need to know outweighing any embarrassment I might be feeling discussing this with him.

“I never said that,” he replied, and I saw a small amount of understanding dawn on him as he realized that I was confused by what had happened.

“Then why do you need some space?” I asked using his words. “Why are you way over there and I’m way over here?” I indicated at the obtrusive space between us.

“Because, I can’t even think clearly when you’re next to me, let alone touching me,” he answered honestly and I understood his predicament since he had the same effect on me.

“So you liked me touching you?” I asked for clarification. The look on his face when I asked that was one I don’t think I’ll ever forget.

“Liked it? I more than liked it baby. I had to stop you before I…,” he stopped himself. What was the big deal, why couldn’t he just give me a straight answer in a complete sentence that made sense? Is that too much to ask for?

“Before you what?” I asked becoming impatient again.

“Before you ended up with a lot more than you were probably expecting and I ended up… messy,” he finally said.

What was I expecting to happen when I touched him? I guess I really hadn’t thought about it too much, but I knew that I wanted to make him feel good, like he was making me feel, but what did me touching him have to do with him being messy? It’s not like my hand on his dick would make him messy… unless… It was like the light bulb had come on and I could finally see where I was. All the confusion, all the worry, it was all gone and I was left with a feeling of clarity.

“Oh,” was all I could manage as my brain tried to process the thought that he almost… because of what I was doing to him. “You mean you almost just….,” I trailed off, still in shock.

“Yeah,” he admitted as he smiled gently in my direction. “That’s why I stopped you. I didn’t want that to happen until you and I are both ready,” he explained, hoping that I finally understood what was going on. And I think I did actually. I guess that in all honesty if he had cum in my hand I probably would have freaked out, but only because I wasn’t expecting it.

“I guess I understand,” I offered.

“Listen, I just don’t want to ruin what we have together by going too fast or scaring you. You’re too special, you mean too much to me to lose you over that,” he said, and I agreed.

“Well, honestly, I hadn’t really thought about it, but now that you say it that way, I think you’re right,” I said.

“Right about what?” he asked getting lost in the realization I was having.

“That we need to talk about it,” I replied as if it was obvious.

“Oh, yeah, so how do you feel about it?” he asked again as if the last ten minutes spent on me figuring out what just happened had never happened at all.

It was my turn to blush now. It’s not that I was embarrassed, but up to this point, my only sexual experience other than the ones that included me and my own hand had just happened with Jesse. Not only that, but I suddenly started to wonder just how much experience he had. I guess up until this point I had been entirely comfortable with what had been happening between us; the delicate touches, the amazing kisses that I got so lost in, the not so subtle way that we had of instinctively grinding against each other, but sex… well that was an entirely different matter altogether. I guess if I had been thinking about this from the beginning, I wouldn’t have let him, or myself, do the things that we had already done, but the point that I kept playing over and over in my mind was, that I hadn’t been thinking, for once, I had been feeling instead.

“How do I feel about it? Well, I definitely don’t think I’m ready to do it, you know, have sex, but I kinda like the way things have been going. It feels right to me,” I managed to get out without the world coming to an end. I was pretty certain as I studied his face, while he was listening to what I was saying, that a look of relief came over it. That comforted me some and then I added, “Besides, I know this is going to sound, I don’t know, sappy or mushy, but I really think that when I do have sex for the first time I want it to be with someone I love and trust.”

His smile was the only thing I could see at the moment. It was a beacon of light to me during this very uncomfortable conversation. It encouraged me, it inspired me, and it made me feel secure. “Okay,” I began, “so what about you? How do you feel about it?” I asked him.

His reply was simple, “Exactly the same.”

I was reassured by him being in a comparable place regarding sex and what we were doing with each other. I did have another question though and I wondered if I should ask him. I wasn’t sure if it was something he wanted to discuss or not, besides, I guess it really wasn’t any of my business, but still, I couldn’t help it. “Jess, can I ask you something?” He nodded his approval so I continued. “I know that you know this is all new to me, and I love that I’m getting to experience it with you, but I was sort of wondering…,” I paused, not entirely sure how to ask him what was on my mind.

“Wondering what?” he asked, pushing me to continue.

“Well, I… want to know… I mean…,” why was this so hard?

“What do you want to know?” he asked urging me to continue.

“Alright, I want to know,” I took a deep breath and decided to go for it, “what exactly have you done before?” Okay, there it was, out in the open and waiting to be answered; the big question I had on my mind.

“Well, I’ll tell you, but first I want you to answer something for me,” he said, not leaving me much of a choice in the matter. I nodded and he asked, “Why do you want to know?”

“I guess because I’m curious, and because I want to know if… you’ll be okay waiting until I’m ready for more. I just don’t want to be bad at it,” I admitted finally.

That had him moving toward me and suddenly the big space between us was gone and he was kneeling in front of me. I looked away, suddenly feeling vulnerable. “Baby, right now I feel like I would wait forever if that’s what it takes,” he said, not just to reassure me, but because it was the truth. I could see it in his eyes. “And trust me, you don’t have to worry about being bad at it,” he said as the blush from earlier reappeared in his cheeks. “Besides, it’s not like I have much more experience than you do,” he offered.

“Exactly what experience do you have?” I pushed him for an answer. This time when I asked him there was no hesitation or awkwardness.

“Like I said, not much more than you. Besides you, there has only been Justin,” he said and I could hear the twinge of pain as he said his name out loud, “and then there was a guy last year. We just messed around some, nothing much happened between us really.”

“What’s that mean?” I asked trying to sound casual, but I wasn’t convincing him at all.

“That means that we jacked each other off, that’s it,” he said almost as if he was disappointed in himself.

“Oh,” was all I could offer as a response. I guess it made me feel better to know that we were almost even when it came down to the experience we had sexually, but now I felt guilty for making him feel bad.

“Jess, I’m glad that’s all it was, because then we can have almost all of our first times with each other, whenever we’re ready for them to happen,” I suggested and as he studied my face for a moment, before he realized that I had a point and smiled in return.

“Well, when you put it that way,” he said, a small smile appearing on his beautiful face. “So, you’re okay with what was happening earlier?” he asked me sounding as if he was more than ready to pick up right where we left off.

I thought about the question for another moment, wondering if I was really ready to experience that milestone in our relationship, and was I ready if he wanted to reciprocate. I knew that in the short time that we had been together, there wasn’t anything he had done to me physically that I had even a remote second thought about. In fact, it was more like physically I wanted more. I think it was instinct though; the way that my dick would get hard just by looking at him, how I saw him in my dreams, that when he would kiss me I would get lost in an indescribable place that and I never wanted to be found. Emotionally I knew that I had never felt like this about anyone before. I had never allowed it though. Sure there had been plenty of opportunities that had presented themselves, but they were all in the form of some girl that I definitely wasn’t interested in. I guess when it really came down to it, I was ready to feel, finally, and I knew that I felt it… with Jesse.

“Yeah, I’m more than okay with it Jess,” I said. “Besides, I was the one who decided to do it, it’s not like I was forced or coerced or anything,” I pointed out reasonably, finally being able to think clearly about what had occurred between us.

“That’s true,” he agreed as his smile brightened.

“So, I guess you’re done needing some space?” I asked him, since he was currently climbing onto my lap taking a seat on my thighs, his arms circling my neck while his legs wrapped around my waist.

“You have no idea how hard it is for me to sit here with you wearing almost nothing and not be able to be near you or touch you,” he said before his lips came down over mine. I automatically opened my mouth inviting him in as I felt his erection poking my stomach.

When his mouth moved off mine and began it’s exploration of my throat I said quietly in his ear, “Oh, I have a pretty good idea of how hard it is.”

He pulled back from me enough so that he could see my face, and the look of shock he had on his face was priceless. I laughed out loud, I couldn’t help it, and as hard as he was trying, I could tell he was really struggling to keep a straight face after hearing that. The sexual innuendo was clear, and his smirk told me that, while he would never admit it, he was amused by it.

“C’mon, let’s get some sleep,” he suggested finally and as much as I was enjoying the way his lips felt on mine I nodded in agreement. We snuggled up in my big bed and even with all the space, we were as close to each other as possible, the blankets pulled over us as his head fell onto my chest where it stayed the rest of the night as I kept him wrapped tightly in my arms.

Copyright © 2011 viv; 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.
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. 
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I'm enjoying the story - but come on, these two guys are about 18 yrs. old, not 11. They are in love with one another. At their age their hormones are raging. They're not going to stop and talk about the appropriateness of the simple act of touching one another. Fondling each other, jacking off together, even oral sex is not unusual at their age. OK, they certainly would be more careful about initiating anal sex. And granted, they might be concerned about engaging in sex in their parents house.

Jack

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