Chapter 2-3
509 Words
By my senior year of high school, I began to
suspect I’d never date as long as I stayed near home, where
everyone knew me only in relation to Mikey. I couldn’t come out,
not when we were so close, because it’d cast our friendship into a
different light; everyone would nod and say they’d known all along
we were queer, when Mikey was as straight as they come. It wasn’t
his fault he couldn’t score with the ladies—he was a big-ass bully
who hung around with me all the time, who salivated whenever a
pretty girl walked by, who stared at jiggling boobs and offended
women without even trying. I knew I was in a different league—I’d
had guys checking me out ever since my balls dropped my freshman
year—but as horny as I was, I couldn’t diss Mikey like that. I just
couldn’t.
Plus, none of the dudes looking my way had
quite the same appeal in my eyes as Mr. Pierce.
When I began applying for college, I picked
schools as far away from home as I could go without leaving the
state. I needed the lower tuition, but wanted to put some distance
between myself and my family. I knew Mikey would stay close to
home, if he even bothered with college at all, and the thought of
being on my own for the first time in my life was exciting.
Thinking of college conjured up images of sunny days lounging on a
grassy quad, my head in the lap of some sexy frat boy whose
erection pressed hard against my cheek through his warm jeans. Or
late night parties with dark rooms, groping hands, fingers easing
beneath the waistband of my briefs to finally, finally wrap
around my stiffening d**k. Or stolen kisses in the hallways between
classes, holding hands in line at the cafeteria, squeaky springs as
I took a pleasant pounding on the mattress in my dorm. Yes, I
looked forward to college, and I couldn’t graduate fast enough.
Perhaps the best daydream was the one I had
about coming home after my first semester. It’d be December then,
cold, and I’d bundle up as I headed over to Mikey’s house to check
in with him. Of course, he wouldn’t be there—maybe he had to work a
late shift, or his classes at the community college wouldn’t have
ended yet for the year. Whatever the reason, Mr. Pierce informed me
Mikey wasn’t home when I stopped by, but he remembered me and
invited me in. “You were always good to my son,” he’d say—that was
how the daydream started before descending into decadence. My
clothes on the floor, Mr. Pierce leading me upstairs to the closed
door of his bedroom, which was always been off limits to us boys.
Or he’d take me right there in the living room, spreading my legs
as he kissed me, his rough cheeks scratchy against my smooth skin,
his hands strong as they lifted my knees apart, his c**k thick and
fat as it butted against my tight ass.
God. As much as I wanted to leave for
college, I wanted to come home all the more if that awaited
me.
- Writer
