Chapter 13 – Chapter 13

Chapter Thirteen

When I arrived at Steve's on Friday, he made his intentions clear. We went to his room, and he showed me a bag of condoms and personal lubricant he had bought for the sleepover. From the amount, it looked like he was planning for there not to be much sleeping.

Steve closed and locked his bedroom door.

"My dad's at work, and my mom's getting her hair done," he said, slipping his shirt over his head and unbuttoning his jeans. He was quickly naked and needy in front of me. I buried my face in his musky crotch, smelling as much of him as I could. He leaned back against the door as I took him in my mouth and quickly drained him.

When I tried to kiss him, he insisted I rinse my mouth with Scope first. He didn't want to taste himself on my tongue.

When I got back to his room, Steve was ready and had rolled a condom on. Without kissing me, he lubed us both up, and penetrated me from behind. I was on all fours. I stroked myself as he did. He came first. The feeling and the sound of him coming finished me off. With no other option, I spilled on his comforter.

"Fuck, Eric, how am I going to explain that?" he asked, wiping it up with his shirt.

"Don't. You're 18. Your mother has to know you masturbate."

"Maybe, but we should have planned better. Next time, we need to put down a towel or something."

"Why the condom?" I asked.

"I dunno. It seemed a little gross finishing inside of you."

"For you or for me?"

"For you."

"Not at all. I liked it better when you did."

"Really?"

"Yes."

"Awesome. I hate condoms. Sally always makes me wear two. I can barely feel her, and sometimes she makes me stop before I come."

"Why two?"

"She doesn't want to get pregnant."

"What time will your mom be home?" I asked. Steve looked at his watch and guessed we had about a half hour. Time for one more.

"Can we try it with me on my back?"

"Sure."

We put a towel down, I rolled onto my back, and Steve moved over me. I grabbed him and guided him to the target. He pressed, but the angle wasn't right.

"I think you're going to have to raise your legs up." I did, but it still wasn't right.

"Here," Steve said, hooking his hands under my knees and pushing my legs back toward my head. He tried, but couldn't find me without my help. I took him in my hand, and he pressed in. I gasped, and he said "whoa" as his pubic hair pressed against my taint. As he started to slide in and out of me, I started to tingle in my stomach.

"Oh, God, right there," I said.

Steve lasted longer than he had yet. I tingled with every thrust. As he got closer, he gripped my calves tighter and tighter, and I got harder and harder. He had his eyes closed and a look of pure pleasure on his face. A thin layer of sweat coated me as I gripped myself and matched his pace.

He fucked me recklessly. He panted, "I'm gonna come, I'm gonna come," as I felt him fill me. I came, too, harder than I ever had. I hit myself in the face, neck, and chest. Steve collapsed onto me, smearing my load between us. I kissed the side of his face.

Once he caught his breath, he pulled out of me and wiped himself off. "That was awesome," he said. "And loud. Did you hear the bed? It was a rockin', but no came a knockin'," he said, laughing.

"Yeah, it was loud."

"So were you. You were groanin' and moanin' like a girl."

"I know. You hit something in me. It was almost like I had a clit. It made my stomach tingle, like the bottom had dropped out."

"Interesting. I wonder what it was."

"I don't know. But, we're doing it on my back from now on."

Steve left to take a shower. I thought of trying to join him, but it was too risky; his mother could be home anytime.

While he was gone, I wondered about the dynamics of what was going on. I noticed that we hadn't kissed. And that Steve still had not touched me, even with his hand.

When Steve returned from his shower, he exclaimed, "Pew. This room stinks of sex. Open the window."

I did, then went to clean myself. I braced myself against the wall and let the water run down my back and neck.

When I climbed into bed next to him that night, I asked why there was no kissing.

"You'll think I'm crazy."

"I already know you're crazy. We're all crazy."

"Well, first, there's Sally."

"What?" I asked, sarcastically. "Did she say it was okay for you to have sex with other people as long as you don't kiss?"

"No. But, somehow, it feels less bad if we don't kiss. It feels less like cheating."

"You are crazy." But, at least he had some sort of conscience. Unlike his father.

"What's the other reason?"

"Huh?"

"You said, 'first, there's Sally.' Which means there's a second. What's the second?"

"It seems gay to kiss."

"We used to kiss all the time."

"I know. It didn't seem gay then. It was just practice. But, adding sex makes kissing seem gay."

"The sex is gay, Steve. I hate to break it to you, but fucking a guy in the ass is as gay as it gets."

"I know, but kissing seems to make it worse, at least to me."

"Well, it makes me feel bad that we don't. It makes me feel cheap. Sucking you and letting you fuck me without kissing makes me feel like a whore."

Steve didn't say a word. He just sighed, rolled into me, and put his lips on mine. He kissed me long and deep, our lips folding into each other's, our tongues gently touching and then fighting and then just touching again.

"You are kind of a whore," he whispered, before adding "Thank God."

"Touch me," I whispered.

"I want to, but I'm not sure I can."

"You have to."

Steve kissed me again. As he did, he tentatively ran his hand down my torso. I pushed his crotch into my hip as he slid his hand under the waistband of my briefs and took me in his hand. His was the first hand other than my own to touch my bare cock. I slid my underwear down.

"Grip it tight," I whispered between kisses. He did, and I moved my hips back and forth. It didn't take long for me to grunt and come. I broke the kiss and bit his shoulder as I did.

It didn't take long for Steve to move over me. He was needy, and he wanted to take me yet again. I wanted him to take me. I was so glad we had the resilience of youth on our side. We could come and come and come.

Steve slid into me. I loved the sight of him over me, the vulnerability of being under him.

We should have moved to the floor, but we didn't. So, Steve moved slowly in and out of me, trying not to make the springs squeak. When he found the sweet spot he had found earlier, I ached to cry out. I stifled it. I opened my eyes and stared into Steve's. "Shhh," was all he said as he slowly pleasured himself and me.

"Tell me when you're about there," I insisted.

He did't say a word. He just kept going, slowing in, back out, in, back out. It was delirious and excruciating.

"I'm really close," he finally said.

I touched myself. Steve watched me.

"I'm there, Eric," he said, arching his back and driving himself into me as deeply as he could. The sensation of him swelling and finishing was enough for me, and I joined him, coating my stomach. He collapsed onto me again, burying his face in the pillow next to my face.

"Jesus Christ," he whispered. "I wish Sally would let me slow fuck her like that. She always hurries me."

"Steve, please don't talk about Sally."

"Right. Sorry."

We cleaned each other up and settled back into each other. I wanted to ask some questions, but I wasn't sure I wanted the answers. My mind was running fast and hard.

I rolled onto my side and kissed Steve's cheek. He rolled onto his side and kissed my nose.

"Can I ask you something?" I asked.

"Sure."

"Are you gay?"

"I don't think so. I really like Sally and I really like fucking her. I wish it was better and freer, but I really like doing it."

"So, you're bi?"

"I'm really not sure. Like I said in my note, I've always had a soft spot for you. But, I'm not really into guys. Like, I wasn't attracted to Evans. I was jealous of him, not you. I'm not attracted to Luke." Luke was the quarterback of our football team and unquestionably the hottest guy at PHS. "But, I really like you, and I really like what we just did."

"I love you," I blurted. For no good reason.

"You can't. Not yet."

"I do."

"Well, then, thank you. It's good to be loved."

"You don't love me, do you?"

"I'm not sure. I'm not sure I've ever loved anyone. So, I'm not sure what it feels like. But, like I said, I really like you, Eric. A lot."

"What do you like the most about me?"

"Your strength. I wish I was as strong as you. I break in the storm. You don't. You're still standing after the hurricane's gone through."

"You don't have to."

"I know. I resolve to be better, to be stronger. And, when the opportunity arises, I'm not. I'm like Peter. I know I should't falter, but I do. Three times, before the cock crows."

"This is heady stuff for 18."

"I know. It's another reason I like you. I can talk with you about things I can't talk with anyone else about. I certainly couldn't talk like this with Sally. She's great, but she's not layered."

I moved my face toward Steve and kissed him. "It's okay if you don't love me yet. You will."