Discovering Love

Chapter 6
Mind Games

“You know what I’m talking about. I don’t mind guys playing with my pecker, but I ain’t swapping no spit with ’em, understand?”

“If you say. I never gave it a thought. I’m just paying up. It’s your rules. You call the shots.”

“Don’t you forget it,” he offered in advice even he didn’t buy.

Greg had lost his harsh edge until Doug showed up. He’d gentled out and seemed to be caught up in the moment, and now he was back to his arrogant swagger. Was he even aware of the energy we’d created? It could be he’d never been with anyone who felt the way I did about him. That was hard to believe.

The spell woven by our proximity and the way my hands explored him, was broken by the reawakening of his superiority gene. I looked for an easy exit, hoping we might recapture the perfect moment at a date to be decided on later. My schedule was easy.

“I can keep it that way all night, you know?” he explained.

His bravado was boyish self-promotion with little meaning in it for me. Give me an hour and I’d be happy.

“What way?”

“Hard! I can keep it up eight hours if I want. Hard as a rock.”

“Why would you want to?” I asked.

“Don’t you know anything about pleasing a woman?”

“Not really. Do they play pool with you?”

Greg glared at me when I failed to be impressed.

I felt it pulsing under my fingers as we were speaking of it, and that made me squeeze, which caused him to wince and then close his eyes for an instant. It pulsed more and I was squeezing it to see him squirm.

It kept him quiet while I tried to think of a way to get out of there. His eyes stayed on my face as my eyes were on what filled my hand.

“It’s getting close to time when I’ve got to get home,” I said, squeezing as I manipulated his dick. “Let me owe you a little something and give me my clothes back. I give you a little interest on what I owe you to make it worth while. I don’t want to go home in my underwear.

“We could play another game and you could leave your underwear here,” Greg suggested.

“No, I had in mind getting dressed so I can walk past your brother’s buddies without them wondering what was going on down here, and why I’m naked.”

“You going to remember you owe me?” Greg asked.

“You going to let me forget?” I asked, knowing the answer.

“I don’t forget. Keeps my days interesting. Gives me something to look forward to, Martin.”

“Speaking of which, we still have a few minutes before squirt will come back down. Jerk me off a little now that we’ve established you have a talent for it and we’ll call it almost paid in full, and I’ll let you jerk me off again next time.”

He changed positions to rest on his elbows. This time we’d do it head on and he was going to watch. I hoped this didn’t include instructions or wisecracks.

By the time he was watching me handle him, he had gone completely hard. I also got a different view. Greg was flat on top of his shaft. He was over two inches across the top when he was hard. From underneath there was the circular appearance which had a flatness beside the rounded portion, which made it too wide from the bottom and the top.

My fingers closed and didn’t reach around him. With his bent knees and leaning up to watch, his dick reached above the elastic band of his boxers. The balls hung out of the bottom of one leg and they jiggled as I pumped up and down as his eyes drilled into the action.

“Do my balls. Like you did before. That’s cool,” he said, suggesting it and ordering it at the same time.

I felt the roomy sac, one ball, both balls, the other ball. My hand moved up and down on his dick. I was interested in getting all the feelings and excitement out of my contact with him. There was no telling if he’d ever give me this much access to him again.

“You sure you haven’t done this before?” he asked suspiciously.

“I’m sure,” I said.

“You have a knack for it then, you know? Usually guys do what they got to do and it’s okay and all, but you put your hands in places most guys don’t.”

“If that’s good for you, I’m glad. If it’s bad, I’ll working on doing it better,” I said.

“You do good enough. Don’t get any ideas. You’re paying a debt. I’m not paying. Don’t get the wrong idea.”

“How could I?” I asked. “You do spell it all out. We play. You win. I play with you. It’s clear. I wouldn’t want to disappoint you.”

Greg was fine as long as he was in control. When I took it beyond what he was accustomed to getting, he liked it too much to stop me. I thought that this was the key to getting closer to Greg. Act like I’m just doing what he wants, and then do what I want. My denials may or may not of worked, but it gave him cover. Me being oblivious to his increased lust for what I was doing for him left me free to explore further.

How quick he put a stop to my little escalations was hard to say. I’d never felt feelings as intense as the ones I had while attending to Greg on the pool table. One thing led to another and my self-control took the day off. My first excursion into the sexual life of another boy.

Admittedly Greg was nothing like any boy I ever met, and that’s why we were there on his pool table in the first place. He was sexual. He was a walking talking invitation, taking none of the responsibility and all the action he could get.

It’s how the game worked for him. He admitted nothing and even asking someone who was willing to do what he wanted them to do for him was close to impossible. Then in the height of his passion he couldn’t help but ask for more.

Once Doug entered on the scene, my desire to stay with the game lost it’s intensity. Knowing Doug and his friends were upstairs, waiting to come downstairs bothered me. I didn’t want to get caught with my pants down, so to speak, by boys I might know. It was time head for home.

Leaving wasn’t as easy as it sounds. I couldn’t leave the hard offering alone. My hand was unwilling to let go of him as his eyes watched my slow progress with some interest. I knew I’d have to let his dick go to leave, he’d probably insist on it, and I didn’t want to let go.

“This has been interesting, but I’ve got to go,” I said, finally letting go of his hard dick.

“Just another minute or two,” he argued, as I began to head for my clothes.

“Your brother is upstairs and our five minutes is up,” I said, reaching for my jeans.

Greg upped the ante, pushing his boxers down to his knees. He leaned back to give me the full view. Greg had it all. Whether in small glimpses or the full meal, he was enough to tempt me back if I hadn’t made up my mind it was time to go.

He used his own hand to make sure I saw all of it as he pumped on his shaft as his balls dangled under the action. Seeing his desire for more wasn’t working, he yanked up his boxers and got off the table, pulling on his own jeans.

“You know where to find me,” I said as he stood so close to me I could feel the heat rolling off him.

“Yeah, and I might see you there again some time,” he said.

“Maybe,” I said and started up the stairs.

“You do still owe me some time,” Greg said as I got up into the shadows near the door.

“We’ll work it out next time,” I said.

“Eight o’clock,” he said.

“Eight o’clock?”

“The party Friday night.”

“I’m still invited?”

“What’s that mean? I invited you. Be here Friday at eight.”

“Yes, sir,” I said.

He laughed.

I knew there would be no repeat of today’s activities with other boys around, but I wasn’t sure there wouldn’t be a rematch, after Greg gave it some thought.

I opened the door, coming face to face with Doug.

“Oh, good. We were just going down. He’s okay? I mean okay?” Doug asked, straining to convey his concern over his brother’s clothing or lack there of.

“Oh, yeah. He’s fine. Nice meeting you,” I said.

“I get home at four to four thirty most days. Come on back sometime when we can talk.”

“I will,” I said, wondering how two such perfect boys ended up in the same family.

I got none of the sexuality off Doug that came off Greg. Doug was more casual and seemed pleasant. Their personalities couldn’t have been more different.

My Humming Bird heart had me feeling faint from the excitement, as I headed across Old Highway to get home. I’d been able to control it while I was with Greg, but thinking back on our first encounter left me breathless.

I had been brash and unrepentant concerning his attempt to get me to do what he wanted. I didn’t let him know how strong my feelings were for him. I’d gone way further than I thought I could go, but in the end it was Greg asking for more and me breaking off our contact.

I didn’t know what it meant but I was glad I didn’t just let him have his way and go for anything he asked me to do. I could have, but I didn’t. When I first met him, going on nothing but first impressions, I was hopelessly hooked on him and I couldn’t get him off my mind. Now that I had more to go on, I was going to have a lot of trouble sleeping.

I had seen it in his jeans that first day. The impression it made on the material, leaving an impression on me that lasted until now. Having been officially introduced to what was just a bulge at that first meeting, I was left with even more passion for Greg. I didn’t like him and yet I was drawn to him in a way I couldn’t explain.

He was a good actor, but I’d held my own. I never let on how dizzy with delight I was to touch him, to have him respond to my touch the way he did. If he felt my passion for him, he didn’t take advantage of it. He responded like someone who was as lost in the moment as I had been.

Greg might claim he was only accepting payment on a debt, but it ran so much deeper than that. The other boys might play the game as he set it up, but I didn’t. I wanted to take it and him as far as I could get him to go, or at least as far as anyone would go around here.

I’d been a member of the “You show me yours I’ll show you mine’ club. We were all way younger than Greg. There was some touching in front of the other boys but it never went any further than that when I was around.

Had one of us been more like Greg, we might have gone further and done more, but we were all relatively new to our sexuality and we didn’t know what we wanted. I remembered the incidents, the boys, their responses to other boys budding maturity. It was exciting. I couldn’t remember one of us enjoying it more than the others.

Reliving the events of the last hour, I would count it as my first true sexual experience. I thought some more about when I was going through puberty with my friends, but that was experimentation. If you removed the excitement of the moment, you have a lesson in physiology that was masked in a curiosity about my fellow man, or boys in that case.

There were no feelings that went with it that lasted longer than the activity. Not any I could identify or remember. There was no overwhelming need to know anything in particular, just mechanics and boys doing what boys do. We wanted to see if we measured up as we matured.

I didn’t know what I was doing or why, but being with Greg was the most intense time of my life. Having him there in front of me in all his sexual glory was something to see. I’d seen it and him and it was better than I could have hoped.

Arranging a repeat would be up to him. I imagined that he felt something more intense than he expected. Could this scare him off and make him less likely to want a replay? He loved being stimulated, but if he was over stimulated, could he decide to leave it be?

The party would be different. There would be too many eyes for Greg to give anything up, and I wasn’t going to end up the talk of the town. I’d keep my pants on and let someone else take the bait.

I more floated than walked home. I went the long way. I wanted time to think and to air out. I still smelled sex on me. I could smell Greg. His rich thick musk lingered in my nose, even outside.

I breathed in the memory of the best day of my life.

There was no doubt that this was in a different league. I wasn’t sure if it would ever happen again with Greg, or why it happened once for that matter. I thought he needed it a lot more than I did, but I also figured he knew I would go for the idea.

While it was the most intense and exciting thing that had ever happened to me, that was because of what I felt for him. It was a bad idea to let a sexual experience turn me into some toy boy he could use for relief anytime there wasn’t anyone else available.

I wasn’t that far down the long lonesome highway that I was going to let someone like him walk all over me. There had to be a way for me to get what I wanted without letting him push me around.

I thought about him inviting me to the party. I remembered the near kiss. Some insanely bad timing had his brother interrupting us at the moment of truth. I could almost taste his lips and there was absolutely no resistance. How bogus was this? I don’t know if we would have kissed or turned his head at the final second, but I wish I’d found out.

In his voice I heard the words, “Kiss me you fool.”

That got me chuckling. What a dork I had become, and what else was I now that another boy knew that I would? Well, I had an invitation to a party, an all-night party, and that meant anything might happen. I’d be there to watch, but I wouldn’t be playing pool.

Greg was still a mystery. I knew he fooled around and he knew I’d fool around with him. He also drew me to him like no one ever had. In spite of all the things about him that scared me, I knew I wouldn’t steer clear of him. I couldn’t steer clear of him.

If he was dangerous I was already in trouble, but I’d be in even more trouble if I didn’t get home before dinner. Where does the time go?

A bird in the hand is worth more than a bird in your pants, especially if it’s Greg’s bird in your hand.

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