BRIAN AND ADAM

[THE USUAL DISCLAIMER: If you're under 18, don't read. If you don't like knowing about sex between two teenagers, don't read. I welcome all kinds of e-mail: good and bad. I love reading hate-mail because most of it is funny as hell, and most of the people who write it can't spell or compose correctly anyway, and that makes the entertainment even better.]

BRIAN AND ADAM, PART ONE

Chapter One-- The First Day

Prep schools are really just places where boys go to learn about three things-- life, sports and sex. The last is probably where the majority of their thinking goes, and that's not all bad. A prep school is a haven for sex-maniac guys, where they are guaranteed to get one sort of blowjob or another.

At a boy's prep school like the one I go to, there are three types of people-- the jocks, who are supposedly the coolest of the bunch (they get all the girls, have the most interesting social lives, and are required to have fucked a senior from one of the girl's schools by the time he's a sophomore); the Thespians (these are the guys who do drama, and who know an alarming number of girls, but can't get any from any of them because the girls are mostly lesbians and the guys are just too spineless to ask); and the Insignificants (the guys who don't do anything after school except go home in their mother's cars, making fun of the Thespians and worshipping the athletes). I think this tableau of prep school life is about standard, and anyone who says otherwise is either lying or speaking from strange experience. For the most part, I don't care what those people say or think, because what I think is usually correct, and when it isn't, I like to think it is anyway.

The first part of my life in prep school was as an Insignificant. Yes, sadly, I, Brian D. was one of those guys who went home at three o'clock and who got mad when Mommy didn't fetch him at school right at that time, because even a few minutes of tardiness meant that some of the older kids or the Athletes would begin to poke fun at the Insignificant. Now, before I go on any further, I want to make the distinction between Insignificants and Nerds: Nerds are the fat guys or the ultra-thin guys who really have no lives and no friends; Insignificants are, as I explain in the next few lines, regular guys who just don't want to do anything after school. Let me try to explain what it is to be an Insignificant. Insignificants (I'll start calling them 'Insigs' because it's getting tedious to have to type that whole long word) are like a secret club to which no-one really wants to belong, but to which many are forcibly pledged. Insigs look at pornography because they can't get real girls, they have their best friends jerk them off because, otherwise, the only handjob an Insig can get is one from his own hand. Insigs try to convince their other Insig friends to participate in a 'circle suck,' or some other sort of sex game that only guys can play, because Insigs hate hearing Athletes talk about Suzie's hot mouth or Jenny's talented tongue without first-hand (or shall I say, first-mouth) experience of what it is to get a blowjob. Once in a thousand times one of the Insigs agrees to suck another Insig's dick, but the sucker requests three promises from the suckee-- 1) that the suckee will never tell anyone about the sucker's activities; 2) that the suckee must warn the sucker about when he's going to cum, so that the sucker won't have to swallow any of it; and 3) that the suckee must, on the same day, return the favour and transform himself into a sucker. Now, the suckee has to swear to all these things, or else he won't be getting a blowjob. The suckee is usually disheartened by the prospect of having to finish the process by himself (now that he has sword to pull out before he cums in his friend's throat), but he figures it'll be worth it just to see his cock sliding into and out of another guy's mouth. This is when the Gay-ification begins. The two are now fully involved in a homosexual act, and when the suckee and sucker are finished with the first official blowjob, they are going to feel terrible. They'll want to go to confession or to church or something and they're going to want to repent for ever having partaken of this carnal pleasure. Then the initial sucker will remember that the suckee promised to give him a blowjob too, and he'll begin to think, 'If I'm in it this far, I might as well get my blowjob's worth,' and he'll start nagging the initial suckee about the continuation of the deal. Eventually, the initial suckee agrees and soon he's on his knees in front of the initial sucker, giving the teenager all his mouth's attention.

Then there are the Athletes, and I think I should explain them too. There are the pledged Athletes, the Jocks, who have been playing high-school level sports for three or four years, and who have fucked girls' brains out and have, on some occasions, even gotten paid for it. These guys are usually pretty well-toned (they work on their muscles a lot when they should be doing homework), but there is the occasional fat guy who's only an Athlete because he can block for the quarterback well, and he usually gets one of the hottest girls simply because the hottest girls' standards are so high that they have to settle for the absolute low. That probably doesn't make any sense, but it's a prep school-- it's not supposed to make sense. Besides the Jocks, there are the Mini-Jocks, the freshmen and sophomores who are still really just little kids but who are in training to be jocks. The Mini-Jocks play soccer and football and lacrosse, because those are the only sports they have any interest in and because they know those are the only sporting events that good-looking girls go to. Mini-Jocks are, like Insigs, horny little bastards because the Jocks get all the girls and the Mini-Jocks are left to their hands and their Playboys. Once in a while a Mini-Jock is able to nab a girl, but that happens so rarely that I shouldn't even mention it. Mini-Jocks can be found at home after practise, getting undressed in the bathroom before a much-needed shower. They take their shirts off and they see a single solitary hair growing just below the navel, and they're proud because hair on the stomach is a sign of Growing Up. They lift their arms up and look at their pits in the mirror, and their spirits tumble down to earth when the say that there's nothing there... yet. They take off their socks and smell them to make sure they won't stink up his hamper, and determines that they won't. He throws these onto the floor with his shirt. Then the pants come off. He looks down at his legs, and wonders when they'll finally get some muscle and flesh on them-- right now they look like 14-year-old legs, and the Mini-Jock is working to get them to look like 18-year-old Athlete legs. He'll be waiting a while. He starts to touch his thigh to see if it has gotten any harder since the squats he did that afternoon, and he sees that they are, in fact, firm, but still not quite 'muscular.' His hand moves up and down his thigh, and finds its way to his cock. That's when the full-blown (pardon the pun) masturbation starts. The Mini-Jock takes his underwear off and begins to stroke his dick, thinking about when he's finally going to be able to slide this little thing into a good-looking girl's mouth (or even into her vagina, but let's not go that far) and have her suck it until it explodes. He starts bucking his hips in tempo with his moving hand, and pretty soon he's sitting on the toilet bowl working at it with all his might. In a minute or two he can be found wiping himself off with a wad of toilet paper, his face flushed and his cock softening, and his arm tired as hell after that workout.

So that's the progression of sex at a prep school: the Mini-Jock jerks off in the bathroom, the Athlete fucks his girlfriend daily, and the Insig gets a friend to jerk him and blow him. The Athletes never mix with the Thespians, because doing so would mean his almost certain demise as an Athlete, and he would be shoved down into the ranks of the Mini-Jocks, or worse, the Insigs. The Insigs and Mini-Jocks, however, are still socially permitted to associate with the Thespians, and some even switch over completely into the Thespian society. That is how I met Adam H.

After three years of being an Insig, I decided, in my senior year, that I might as well try being a Thespian for a few months until graduation. When I got a part in one of the productions, I started getting acquainted with all the other people who did drama. I was a bit on the outside, since I was one of only three senior boys in the play, but I got along well with everyone because, even though I was graduating in May, I was only 16, and therefore had pretty much the same concerns as everyone else-- driver's license, all that teenage crap.

Adam was a Mini-Jock, but he had been persuaded to join the Thespians, even if only for one dramatic production, to see what it would be like. He went to an audition, got a part, and soon he was pretty well-settled into the whole Thespian scene. He still did his occasional bathroom self-handjob, but they were getting less and less frequent, because he always seemed busy with rehearsal.

Adam was probably the single most handsome guy I had ever encountered. He was a freshman when I met him, so he was three years below me in school but only two years younger than I in actual age. He's grown a bit in the past year, but when I met him he was about five inches shorter than I am, so he was 5'5". He used to hold his hands a certain way at his sides that used to make me melt. I wish I were better at describing people's physical appearances. I'll try my best. Firstly, he had brownish-blond hair, cut short on the sides and allowed to grow a little bit less conservatively on top. He had big, beautiful brown eyes, and a cute nose, and pretty red lips. He had a complexion that was like 'fresh cream' (I know that sounds extremely cliche, but, in Adam's case, this is the absolute best comparison I can make). He was, in a word, gorgeous.

It was a very strange sensation for me, the first time I saw Adam. I had confessed to myself that I am gay a year before, but it still struck me in a weird way when I saw I guy I was attracted to. I started talking to Adam during rehearsal, fishing for ways I could get him into my house (I had been living alone with my sister for a few months, since my parents were living in London) so I could have some privacy with him. I found out that he had been taking voice lessons for a couple of years, as I had been, and I devised a way to use this to get him alone.

I approached him after rehearsal one day and asked him if he was interested in performing a short guy duet from the musical we were going to do the next year; I told him, truthfully, that this was the song I was going to use to audition, and I needed a partner..

'What musical?' he asked.

'Miss Saigon, actually,' I said. 'There's a duet for two tenors, and I figured that we could probably do it really well. I've been looking for someone to do it with for ages.'

He looked at his watch and said, 'OK, I can do it. When?'

I was in ecstasy. I was finally getting this gorgeous guy alone in my house, and he was eager enough about it to ask 'when'! 'Tomorrow afternoon, if that's OK,' I said. 'I can us drive to my house, and if you want I can drive you home after.'

'It's Friday tomorrow, right?' he asked.

'Yeah.'

'Wouldn't it be easier if I just slept over?' he asked. He was totally serious: he was searching for the practicality of the situation, while I was mulling over the fantasy of it.

I managed to say, 'Sure,' without completely indulging myself in a show of my absolute happiness.

'OK,' he said. 'I'll tell my mother tonight and I'll just bring some clothes with me to school tomorrow.' And with that he walked over to where his bookbag was sitting, and he picked it up. 'See you tomorrow!' he yelled to me as he walked out the double doors of the building.

I thought to myself, Oh my god. Adam is going to be sleeping in my house tomorrow night. Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god.

Of course, as you can imagine, not only was I excited at the prospect of having him not only in my house for an afternoon, but for an entire evening, but I was equally nervous. What will happen if I make an obvious pass at him and he doesn't go for it? Yikes... that would be rather embarrassing. I'd have to take the chance; after all, the man who does not attempt failure will never bask in success (or something like that-- you catch my drift).

So, here I was, standing in the middle of the hallway in one of the buildings at my school, and the Most Beautiful Guy In The World was going to be sleeping over at my house the next night. How could I not smile? I'm sure nerdy little Patrick sitting over in the corner with a notebook on his knees was wondering what a senior like me would have to smile about: after all, exams were still coming up and college applications were in the process of being filled out. But I did have something to smile about, and if you ever saw Adam, you'd smile too, just thinking that there is a Higher Being out there who possessed the advanced intelligence and know-how to create such an amazing creature.

So I drove home in the Mercedes that my parents had given me when I got my driver's license (you haven't, of course, forgotten that this is that paradise that we call Prep School and that fantasy existence we call Wealth, have you?), and to tell you the truth, I wasn't really paying attention to the road. I was driving to the grocery to pick up some junk and something to cook for dinner, and the wind was blowing through my hair from over the windshield and the sound of Cosette and Marius from 'Les Miserables' was coming out of the too-much-treble Becker sound system, singing 'a heart full of love, a heart full of you...' and I thought, You two know just what you're talking about.

The grocery was not out-of-the-ordinary. Pretty basic place, with teenagers sitting outside waiting for people to drive into the Parcel Pick-Up and bored cashiers sliding chicken and romaine lettuce and condoms over the little laser thing that will tell us the price of the item. Condoms. Yeah, I though, I better get some just in case. Then I started running the idea through my head, and I figured Adam and I wouldn't need them, because (I thought) Adam was definitely not a very sexually-experienced guy, and there would probably be no chance of getting any sort of diseases from him. Plus, the probability of getting Adam pregnant (although a very interesting, if not repulsive idea) was close to nil. So, at the end of my shopping, with three New York strip steaks in the basket along with a head of lettuce and a bottle of dressing, I walked right past the Family Planning section of the grocery and went to the check-out.

Cute guy standing behind that register, I thought. Wonder what he does when he gets home-- does he jerk off or does he have a girlfriend/boyfriend there to do it for him? This is how the teenager prep school mind works, my dear friends. It's a beautiful thing, really.

I was out of the grocery and at my car in about three minutes, and after I put the paper bag in the trunk of my car, I got in to start the engine. I noticed a bird had not only defecated on the hood of the car, but also on the passenger seat. One problem with convertibles. But (and thank God for small favours) the seats are leather, and the shit would probably come out pretty easily. I made a mental note to get the car cleaned some time before Adam got into it the next afternoon, and that left only a couple of hours before the carwash place closed at 6. So I drove straight home (too fast again, as usual) drove into the garage, ran into the kitchen, put the steaks in a marinade, and went right back out to drive (too fast) to the carwash place.

The carwash place was, as luck would have it, packed. But I did get the car cleaned, and it was in sparkling condition, ready for Adam to ride in it. Was a strange concept, I thought to myself, that Adam's butt will be touching that seat in less than twenty-four hours. I felt the seat with my hand and thought with a little smirk, I'll never wash that seat again.

BRIAN AND ADAM, PART ONE

Chapter Two-- The First Encounter

You don't have to try very hard to imagine what kind of morning I had that next Friday. I couldn't wait for the moment the bell would ring three, signalling the arrival of the Time Adam Would Meet Me In The Parking Lot. I had everything ready-- the guest room was set so that Adam wouldn't get the impression that I EXPECTED him to sleep in my bed, there were lots of junk food, there was a copy of MAURICE (a 1980s British movie about two college guys who fall in love, blah, blah, blah) discreetly placed in the VHS in the family room, and there were, appropriately enough, two copies of the score to that duet that Adam and I were supposed to learn from MISS SAIGON. Of course, at that point, I really didn't care about MISS SAIGON and was concentrating only on how I could clamp my lips onto Adam's without scaring him away. I had lots of thinking still to do.

My last class, Ethics, went on forever, and-- just my luck!-- the course of the day was the moral dilemma of homosexuality. I wasn't really paying attention, but I did get the part about the Catholic Church not teaching that it was wrong to be gay, but that it was VERY wrong to act upon any homosexual desires. I didn't care. I was a horny high school student and cared only about two things-- my dick and my car. And, once in a while, my grades.

But the day did end, and I pretty much ran to the parking lot and threw my books into the trunk. There was a little duffel bag lying on the ground near the car, and I figured that it was Adam's, and that he had dumped it there sometime during the school day so he wouldn't have to lug it all over the place. Sure enough, the bag had his initials embroidered onto it, and this was assurance that Adam was, in fact, going to be sleeping at my house. It was still a strange concept, though.

I still hadn't figured out a way to get him naked, but I settled for the what-will-be-will-be attitude, and left everything to Fate.

In a couple of minutes I saw Adam walking toward the car from the other side of the lot, where the gym was. I assumed he had just come from his Phys Ed class, since he was wearing the blue shirt and shorts that make up our gym uniform. He had nice legs. Actually, 'nice' does not do justice to those legs. They were exceptional. They were divine. It is, in fact, probably illegal to have legs that nice in some states. They were just perfect. I'm sort of a sucker for legs, and when a guy has nice legs, I go nuts. Adam had great legs-- they were nicely-shaped, smooth and blemish-free. His legs reminded me of the Lloyds of London advertisement I had seen a year before on a trip to London that showed this banker running around, protecting this beautiful woman's legs-- she had just taken out an insurance policy on her legs (the commercial had something to do with Cindy Crawford) and the guy was just making sure she would have no opportunity to cash in on it. One part of the advertisement showed the guy sawing the heels off of all of her shoes. Anyway, Adam's legs were worthy of an insurance policy. They were worthy of a military escort.

He waved to me as he approached the car, and I waved back. He started jogging toward me, and as he did, I popped the trunk open so he could stuff his things into it. He had his bookbag, the duffel bag which I assumed had his clothes in it, and another bag that he used for gym.

'Do you mind if I take my shoes off before I get into the car? There's some mud on them and I don't want to get your car dirty,' he said when he got to where I was standing.

'Sure,' I said. 'You can stick them in the trunk.' Then I got into the car and started the engine. He followed, and soon we were sitting in the car with the engine running and silence going between the two of us. 'Do you mind if I put the top down?' I asked.

'Nope,' he said. 'Nice car.'

'Thanks.'

He looked at me with this weird twinkle in his eye. 'Are your parents millionaires or do you deal drugs?'

I laughed. That broke the ice. Leave it to Adam's undying charm to break the ice in a situation like that.

We drove home and exchanged little bits of conversation: what my dad did for a living, what his brother was majoring in up at Holy Cross, what the sleeping arrangements would be that evening.

'You can take one of the guest rooms,' I said. 'We have three because my parents are living in London with my two other sisters.'

'You live alone?' Adam asked.

'Not exactly. My sister still lives at home with me, but she's at work all day and she goes out with her friends every night, so I'm pretty much alone all the time anyway. She gets home at around 1 AM, and by then I'm usually asleep.' Hopefully I'll be frolicking around the bedroom with you at that time tonight, I thought to myself.

'Hmm. So you live alone. That's pretty cool,' he said. He looked out to his right, at the huge house that was on the corner of my street. 'Holy shit. That house is massive.'

I turned my signal on and began to make the turn onto that street. 'You're kidding, right? That's not your house, is it?' he asked.

I laughed again. 'No way. That's one of our neighbours. He's the guy from Nightline. Ted Koppel.'

'Yeah, right!' he said.

'I'm not kidding,' I said. 'You can meet him one of these days if you come over at the right time. He's usually out in his pool or on the patio in the afternoons. Not today, though. I think he's in New York.'

'That's pretty cool,' he said.

I turned into our driveway and drove up into the garage. It was around 3:30PM, and Friday night, so I didn't expect my sister until very early on Saturday morning, if she came home at all. Sometimes it was just easier for her to sleep at a friend's house after staying out all night.

We got all our stuff out of the trunk, got into the house, and plopped ourselves down in the family room. I turned on the TV. SAVED BY THE BELL was on, a show I liked to watch because that guy Zack was really cute. After a couple of minutes I got up from the couch I was on and walked to the kitchen. 'Want anything from in here?' I called to Adam across the breakfast room. 'Something to drink?'

'Diet Coke?' he asked.

'No problem.' I grabbed a couple cans of Diet Coke from the fridge and went back into the family room. Adam had made himself comfortable on another couch (the longest of the three) and was taking his socks off.

'My feet hurt,' he said.

OK. Here was a little chance to inch my way into his little heart. 'I'll rub them for you if you want,' I said. Phew. If he rejects this one then I'll give up and just work on the song with him. If he bites, then it's a good sign.

'Really?' he asked.

'Sure. I'll let you in on a little secret: I do this for all my drama buddies.' He seemed to find this amusing.

'OK,' he said. 'If you want to.'

Jesus, did I want to. I got up from my couch and walked over to his. I sat down at the end opposite where he was sitting. 'Put your legs up here,' I said, pointing to the area between me and him. 'And put your feet where I can get at them.' He did this, and pretty soon his right foot was in between my legs, where I had pretty easy access to it. I started to rub his foot, holding the heel in my left hand and using my thumb to knead the arch. I grabbed his little toe and said, 'This little piggy went to market.' He laughed again.

I was in heaven. It wasn't exactly the most erotic and attractive thing I had ever done, but rubbing his feet was pretty damn good if it was the only thing I'd be able to do with him that night. His feet were smooth and dry and warm, and I could feel the little knots in the arch and in the pad of his foot that were giving him problems.

Here was an even better chance. I had his foot in between my legs, his gorgeous thigh and calf inches away from my reach, and I wasn't doing anything about it. You can do better than this, Brian, I thought. Go for it, you little weasel!

I started moving my hands to his ankle, and then to the muscle of his calf, where I started massaging him. He didn't protest. I figured he thought I was just giving him the full-service foot rub, and didn't suspect that I wanted more than just to caress his legs. I ran my hand up and down his calf, from the knee to the ankle, smoothing the tension out of it and increasing my own fantastic ecstasy.

'You want to have sex with me, don't you Brian,' Adam said suddenly. That caught me off-guard, to say the least.

'What?' I said, with mock anger/surprise. 'What did you say?!'

'Oh, shit,' Adam said, turning crimson. 'Fuck, fuck, fuck! I'm so sorry, Brian. I didn't mean it, I swear.' Now he was defencive. I could see in his eyes he was ready to cry, and I felt so badly about that, but I didn't want to give myself away.

'Don't worry about it, Adam--'

'God! I don't know why I said that!' He pulled his leg out of my hands and started to get up. 'Fuck! Brian, I'm so sorry, I don't know why I said that!'

I got up and started after him. He was walking to the mud room between the garage and the main part of the house, and I figured he was going to get his bags. 'Where are you going?' I asked.

Adam looked at me for a split-second then turned his gaze back down at the floor. 'I can't stay here after that. It's too embarrassing. I'll call my dad to pick me up.' He bent down to pick up one of his bags.

'You don't have to do that,' I said. 'Don't worry about it.' I took the bag out of his hand and put it back down on the floor. I put one of my hands on his shoulder and looked him straight in the eye. 'Yes,' I whispered.

The look in his eyes changed from fear to confusion. 'What?' he whispered back.

I kept looking at him, then turned around and walked back into the kitchen. 'What do you want to eat for dinner?' I asked. 'I can cook whatever you want. I still have a couple of steaks that I was going to cook for my sister and me last night, but she ended up not eating dinner here.' I waited a couple of seconds from an answer from the mud room, but none came. 'Adam?' Still nothing. I walked back to the mud room and found Adam still standing where he was when I had left, looking at the floor with a questioning look on his face. I took one of his hands and pulled him into the kitchen. 'And don't think you're just going to sit down and eat, either. You're going to make the mashed potatoes.'

He snapped out of his temporary catatonia and looked at me. 'Mix or real?'

'Mix, of course. Who makes real mashed potatoes anymore?' I asked. He smiled at this and proceeded to pull a box of Hungry Jack potato flakes (could you come up with a more appetite-killing name?) out of the pantry.

ADAM AND BRIAN, PART ONE

Chapter Three-- Dinner and a Movie

By the time we finished cooking and got the table in the breakfast room set for dinner, it was 5:30, and Adam and I was both starving. I pulled the steaks out of the broiler and put them on a platter that eventually went to the table as well. I looked at the table, set the way the table's usually set when I'm having dinner with my parents in the apartment in London. It looked uncomfortable. 'Do you want to eat in here or in the family room?' I asked. 'We can eat in the family room and watch TV if you want.'

Adam was standing in front of the freezer with two glasses in his hands, putting ice cubes into them. 'OK,' he said. 'Coke or water?' he asked.

'Just water. Too much sugar today already,' I said. I moved the plates onto the coffee table in the family room and turned the TV on again. FULL HOUSE was just finishing, and the credits were rolling up the screen. 'You can bring the glasses in here, Adam.' I turned a couple of lamps on to make it possible to see what we were eating, and soon Adam and I were sitting on the floor at the coffee table, eating and watching TV.

It was a rerun episode of SEINFELD, the one where they get lost in the parking garage and Elaine is worried that her new goldfish will die in the little plastic bag that she's carrying it in. 'Do you like this show?' Adam asked.

'Yeah,' I said. 'I watch it all the time.'

'My favourite one is the one when George is getting a massage from a guy, and he starts worrying that he likes it!' Adam said. He wanted me to bring up our little activity from the afternoon.

'I saw that one. He said that "it moved."' We both laughed. It was time. 'Adam, about... what happened... earlier...'

Adam shifted, pulling his knee to his chest and wrapping an arm around it to keep it in place. 'Yeah?'

'Don't worry about it, OK? Don't be embarrassed about it or anything... because I was sort of hoping you'd say something like that.'

His eyes took on a different quality now. They were smiling. 'Really?'

'Yeah,' I said. 'That's why I wanted to rub your feet. I thought it would get things started.'

'So you do like me? I mean, in that way?' He sounded so much like a kid I wanted to laugh. It was funny the way he talked about our attraction to each other. It was like our little secret.

'Yeah, I do. And... I was hoping you liked me that way too.'

He smiled. 'I do.'

I smiled. What a relief. I wasn't alone, and not only that, the guy I liked was in the same boat. Strange how things like this happen, especially to guys like me. My life is pretty well-regimented, and a gay romance is certainly not what my parents planned for me. I was on the verge of starting a real romantic relationship with another guy, and it made me so happy I could have burst. 'We don't have to do anything tonight that you don't want to--'

'Oh, of course. Same goes for you--'

'And if I do something you don't like, you tell me, OK?'

'OK. I like you a lot, Brian.'

I smiled again. I could have cried, I was so happy. 'I like you too, Adam.' All right, weasel, now's your chance to kiss him. I leaned forward a tiny bit, hesitant at first. But when I saw Adam lean forward a little too, I knew that it was going to happen. I leaned forward more, so close to him I could feel his warm breath on my lips. Then, in a moment of pure bliss, I felt his lips touch mine; we both instinctively pushed against the lips that we had been dreaming about, and when I knew that this was the first sign of our romance, I closed my eyes.

We broke our kiss, pulled apart for a moment, and looked at each other. I smiled, looked away, then looked back. I felt like a shy schoolgirl who was acting like she had no idea what sex was but who was in fact yearning for it with all her might. We kissed again, for a long time.

'Adam?' I whispered.

'Yeah?'

'I said "yes", you know.'

He smiled. God, how I wanted him! He looked so beautiful right then, sitting there on the floor, his face inches away from mine, smiling. 'I know.'

'Do you want to go upstairs?'

'Sure,' he whispered.

So we went upstairs.

My bedroom is pretty big, with a walk-in closet and bathroom built into it, and a queen-size bed in the middle of it. I liked the queen-size because it allowed me to barricade myself with pillows on cold winter nights when the heater didn't do its work very well.

Adam and I walked into the bedroom, and Adam told me he wanted to take a shower first. I showed him into the bathroom, turned the water on for him and found a decently-warm temperature. I left him in there, closing the door behind me. I sat on the bed, taking my shoes and socks off, then undoing my belt and taking my pants off. God damn these prep school uniforms, I thought to myself. Too many damned things to take off!

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the door to the bathroom open a crack, letting a little sheet of steam coming floating out. Adam's head, dripping with water, came out of the crack. 'I just remembered when I got into the shower-- I need some clothes form my bag downstairs. Could you get me some?'

You won't be needing clothes where we're going, my dear, I though. 'Sure.' I left the room, walked down the stairs, then went into the mud room. I picked up his duffel bag and went back upstairs to the room. I opened the bag up and dumped the contents onto my desk-- underwear, socks, shirts, a pair of jeans, a toothbrush. Pretty basic stuff.

I took a pair of underwear and a t-shirt and knocked on the bathroom door.

Adam's voice came, muffled by the sound of running water: 'Can you come in and put them on the shelf in here?' he said.

Fuck, I don't think I can wait, I thought. I opened the door and walked into the bathroom, surrounded immediately in the steam of the hot shower. I put the clothes on the shelf and turned back around to leave. Adam pulled the shower curtain open a bit and asked, 'Do you want to come in? It's nice and warm.' He had a sinister smile on his handsome little face.

He had planned this.

I smiled and walked toward the shower, pulling the curtain open a bit wider. There was Adam in his gorgeous nudity, shimmering with water and as beautiful as I had ever seen him. I stepped into the shower, not caring that I still had a shirt and boxers on, and put my arms around Adam's middle, standing behind him. I put my chin on his shoulder, then started to kiss his neck. He turned his head a bit toward me so I could get at his lips, and I kissed them too, relishing the warm wetness of his kiss and the feel of his soft skin under my hands. My hands started to wander over he stomach while I kissed his mouth; the skin of his tummy was taut and soft, broken only by his navel. I tickled him here with a finger and his smile broke our kiss. I moved in again, and this time he opened his mouth every so slightly, and I took this as a signal and began exploring his mouth with my tongue. It was so warm; he tongue met mine in a frenzy of tongue-love-making as my hands wandered down to his balls. I began to fondle his cock, feeling it get hard under my touch; my cock was already rock-hard, and had been for quite a while.

'Let's go into the bedroom, Brian,' Adam said. I kissed him one more time, then stepped out of the shower. He put on one of the robes, and I put another on after I had taken my wet shirt and underwear off. I dried his hair with a towel, then dried mine, and then we just stood there, looking at ourselves in the mirror. Lovers. That's what we were, as of that moment. Lovers.

The bedroom was warm-- I had turned the heat up pretty much all the way, a distinct violation of my budget, but what the hell. I was entertaining the most amazing guy on the planet, I could afford to blow a pair of shoes for the gas bill. Adam sat down on the bed and untied the robe. `Do you want to turn the lights off?' I asked.

No,' he said. I want to see you.' He got up and came to me, putting his arms around my neck and pulling me close to him so he could kiss me. His tongue probed my mouth, trying to climb all the way down my throat. I pulled his robe off and threw it across the room into a corner, then moved him onto the bed, my lips still locked on his. He started to untie my robe, and soon it too was in the corner, in a heap, no longer needed to hide the things that Adam and I were going to share.

I got beside Adam, lying on my side, facing him. I looked at him and knew that I wanted him to have me completely. My hands wandered over his body again, stopping at his nipples, caressing them and making them hard and making Adam coo with delight. My hands moved down, down to his stomach and then to his hard cock, pulsing as it begged to be relieved. Soon, my dear, soon, I thought. I moved my head down to his tummy, so I could kiss him there. He was warm and smooth, and I paused a while to taste the skin of his stomach. I could smell the faint fragrance of the cologne he was famous for dousing himself with. A freshman and already concerned about smells and appearances and impressions. I kissed his navel, making him giggle. Then I got down to business. I moved down to his cock, letting the head of his hard dick rub up against my chin. I teased him like that, rubbing his cock with my chin, never letting it get near my mouth. He started to moan. `Suck it, Brian,' he said.

I smiled at that. God, he really wants it, I thought. Of course he really wants it, you idiot. You fucking showered with him and now you're teasing him with a blowjob. He's going to want every fucking thing you can give him tonight.

That was fine with me. I was ready to give Adam everything I had, and I was ready to do it that very moment. I kissed the head of his cock, then the loose piece of skin under the head that seemed to connect it to the shaft. I kissed his cock up and down, from the base to the very tip of the head, then back. Put it in,' he kept whispering. If he could, he probably would have fucked my mouth right then, but he didn't want to ruin the pleasure of waiting. Please, Brian...'

Then I started to lick his cock, coating it with my saliva, making it slick and ready for sucking. `Oh, God... Oh, Jesus... Please, Brian... Just suck it, please...' I kissed his cock again, dozens of time, driving him crazy with every touch of my mouth. He started pressing his cock against my mouth, humping against my face in an attempt to spur me onto sucking him. But I wasn't ready. I wasn't ready to take him to that height yet.

I got off the bed completely and kneeled on the floor at the foot of the bed, at his own feet. I kissed his toes and then started to lick my way up his leg, licking the smooth ankle and calf, kissing his creamy thighs, up to his balls. I started licking them too, kissing the two beautiful nuts in the soft, smooth sac, making Adam moan. `Please... Put it in your mouth, Brian... I want to cum...'

`Not yet,' I said.

`Please...'

Shhh.' I lifted his legs with my hands and began to kiss the little stretch of skin between his anus and his balls, the perineum. He appreciated this immensely. He moaned more loudly this time, so loudly I thought it might be heard outside, through the windows of the bedroom. I liked the perineum, then licked and kissed him down to his little hole, the tight, pink hole that I hoped would be wrapped around my own cock some time soon. I started to put a little pressure on his asshole, forcing my tongue into his most private part. Oh, God, Brian... Where did you learn... how to do this?'

`Shhh.'

`Please, Brian. Oh, God, I just want to cum. Oh, God, please. Brian, please... Cum... I want to... cum...'

OK. Enough torture. I could tell that if I didn't get to sucking Adam off soon, he was going to get impatient and just jerk off, and that would be a total waste of one of Adam's beautiful orgasms. I knew that evening would hold many orgasms for the both of us, but my mouth was ready to brave this first one.

I moved back up to his cock, kissing it and licking it again. Then I put my mouth over the head. Adam didn't need any more encouragement. He bucked his hips up against my mouth and shoved all five inches of himself into me. His cock tasted heavenly. He started sliding his tool into my mouth slowly, pulling it all the way out and then pushing it in with such gentleness. He started to increase his pace. I grabbed my own cock and started to stroke it slowly, imagining that I was fucking Adam's mouth while he fucked mine. This was something we would definitely have to try later.

As he quickened his pace, fucking my mouth almost violently, I started to pump my cock faster and faster, pre-cum dripping out of my dick and coating the head and my hand just enough to make the jerking off more pleasurable without making it messy. Adam shoved his cock into my mouth three more times in quick succession, then I felt his hot cum spray the back of my throat five times. My own cock exploded a moment after, littering the bedspread with cum. I sucked Adam's cock to get the last of his semen, then let it slip out of my mouth. I crawled up so I could look at him face-to-face. He was smiling.

`Thanks,' he said.

`No problem.'

`Did you cum?'

Yeah,' I said. It's all over the bed.'

Adam frowned. `I wanted to make you cum.'

`You did, in a way. Your cock was great.'

He smiled again. `Your mouth was great too. There's still so much more that I want to do with you.'

I know.' I kissed him, letting his tongue wander my mouth again, scavenging the lingering taste of his cum. We have a whole night.'

Then, the phone broke the beauty of our moment. I got up and walked to the desk. I picked up the phone. It was my sister. She wasn't going to be coming home; she was going to a restaurant for dinner with some friends, then she was going to just spend the night at another friend's house. No problem, I told her. I've got a friend over.

I put the phone down then walked back to the bed. `Should we work on that suet for a bit?' I asked.

`I forgot about that,' Adam said, smiling.

`Hey, that was our primary purpose here this evening. Wasn't it?'

`Of course it was.'

BRIAN AND ADAM, PART TWO

Chapter One-- Lovers

Adam and I were alone the rest of the night, since my sister wasn't planning on coming home, and we spent an hour or so just sitting in my bedroom kissing and listening to music and talking about teenaged guy things. He wanted to know how it was like living alone. I told him it was pretty cool.

And it is pretty cool to live alone. There I was, the Dylan McKay of my school, living in my parents' big house near Washington DC, driving around in a Mercedes convertible and doing practically anything I wanted. I didn't have very much supervision, since my parents had let all of the maids go before they moved, assuming my sister and I could cook and clean for ourselves. Living alone was, to tell you the truth, the most spectacular experience I have ever had in my life, except, perhaps, for making love to Adam H. I could have a 200-guest party any time I wanted and not get in trouble for it; I could tack 3000 miles onto any of our cars and have an excuse for doing so; I could sleep in on Mondays and call the Dean of Students at my school to say I wasn't coming in because I had the flu and not get a demerit for it; I could invite Adam over and have wild, mad sex with him all night long and have no-one to explain myself to. It was great.

After giving Adam that first blowjob, we showered together again. That was one thing I didn't really enjoy. I mean, it's really sexy and everything to be in the shower with a great-looking guy, but it's hard to really get any serious cleaning done. It's a bit embarrassing to pull that Oil of Olay body wash out and use the loofah sponge when a guy is standing right there in front of you. You wouldn't want to seem vain or anything, right? Plus, Adam and I were so fucking horny that we couldn't keep our hands off of each other, in the shower or out. So, after another unsuccessful attempt in the shower, we decided we should just quit and go down to the kitchen and get something to eat. It was a good idea; nothing replenishes the body after a blowjob like a glass of orange juice and a bran muffin.

We walked down to the kitchen (we were still naked for two reason: 1) we expected to rip each other's clothes off anyway, so why bother, and 2) we were too damned lazy to put the robes back on). We were, unfortunately, lacking the bran muffins, so we settled for a half-full bag of Doritos. Cool Ranch.

'I'm glad I came over tonight,' Adam said as he stuffed a chip into his mouth. He was sitting at the head of the table, and I was sitting next to him at my usual seat. Thank God for glazed glass, I thought, or else the neighbours would be flipping out right now. The breakfast room we were in had three sets of French doors facing the table, and our neighbours' library faced those doors. I could imagine Mr Young coming down to his study for a late-evening read and looking out the window to see two teenaged boys sitting naked at the breakfast table eating Doritos and drinking orange juice. He'd probably call his annoying little wife to come look as well. They were that kind of couple: busy-bodies who couldn't stop meddling in other people's affairs, but who didn't bother repairing their own dingy lifestyles. Who could blame them? Mr Young was a lawyer.

'I'm glad you came too,' I said. The conversation had a twinge of the erotic in it, the word 'came' playing with two meanings. 'But we still haven't even finished a shower successfully.'

Adam laughed. He sipped at his orange juice then said, 'I know. Maybe we should make conscious decisions not to fool around in the shower and just get cleaned up alone.'

Yuck. Alone. That word sounded so terrible.

'Deal,' I said. The idea of showering without Adam posed an interesting problem: I wanted to just take a shower and finally get clean, but I also wanted to see Adam with me in the shower, glistening with water. I'd have to figure out a way to get around that.

Some of you may be confused as to how my friendship with Adam started in the first place. I told you that he was a Mini-Jock and that I was an Insig, but that we had both broken ranks with our respective groups to join the Thespians. I did not know Adam before we were both cast in that first play. I knew his older brother, who was a junior at the time (he wasn't as naturally good-looking but had potential), and I pretty much figured out that they were related since they used to go home together in their mother's Land Rover (you need that rugged four-wheeler in the jungle-like suburbs of Washington DC). I didn't think to use my casual friendship with Adam's older brother to get at Adam himself; that would have been just outright tactless. I did, however, know that Adam's brother was an occasional Thespian, and assumed that Adam would just eventually follow suit. It was just a beautiful coincidence that Adam followed suit at the same time that I decided to join the Thespians.

As I told you, Adam is quite attractive. Let me illustrate to you just how attractive. At one of the rehearsals for the play (before our little sexcapade), Adam and I were sitting in one of the practise rooms with one of my fellow seniors and three of the girls from one of the other schools that participated in our drama programme; the three girls were flirting with Adam like crazy, and I couldn't blame them a bit. This fellow senior, Joe S, turned to me and said (in Latin, which is the language we four-year Latin scholars used when we didn't want others to understand us), Girls love Adam,' Notice he didn't say THE girls love Adam.' He said, `GIRLS love Adam,' meaning every single girl on the face of the planet loved Adam, and I would not be surprised if that was true.

`Yeah?' I said.

You bet,' he replied. I know one girl who wants to know him in THAT way...'

Really?' I said. Lucky bastard.' And smart girl.

That's how attractive Adam was-- other guys were damn jealous of his looks, and that doesn't happen very often, because most men are generally just so conceited and stuck-up that they automatically assume that they are the best-looking of the bunch. Now, this is not to say that Joe S was not good-looking, because he definitely was, and he eventually came to play in our little love story. I'll get back to him.

Before I go on, let me tell you something about the differences between men and women. Let's call this a little tiny bit of education, that lovely past-time that no-one likes but most are forced into anyway. Do human beings crave, dream about, yearn for, or sacrifice small animals to education? Certainly not... I'll tell you what human beings dream about:

Women dream about becoming great; of finding equality with men; of being good wives and better mothers; of living a life that fulfills their expectations; of being able to walk alone at night without fear; and of never, EVER having to put another tampon in. Men dream about sex. That's about it. The reason for this is that women are human beings and men are animals. Men like fast cars and curvaceous women; beer and anything else that could spur a belching contest. They absolutely worship any other man who has a Corvette and a blond woman with fake boobs. Does that sound disgusting? It should, because men, on the whole, are disgusting. Men are just sex-fiends, and that is why homosexual relationships are ideal.

I still have no idea what women expect when they marry men. Do they expect them to be wholly unselfish and provide them with their hearts' desires? Do they expect men to be (frightening word coming up-- brace yourselves) FAITHFUL? Come on... That's like expecting milk from a man's nipples. Women don't seem to understand what men are all about. Men live for sex. That's all they want, all they expect and all they think about. That's why heterosexual relationships are simply doomed to failure. Women want commitment, men want sex. Homosexual relationships, on the other hand, are usually quite successful, because the two guys involved know exactly what is going on.

Not to sound melodramatic or cheesy or anything, but what Adam and I eventually made of our relationship was different. I'll get back to that later.

So there we were, sitting naked in my kitchen, talking about various things and eating Doritos. We delayed the shower suggestion and just kept talking there. Adam was still worried about sleeping arrangements.

You can sleep in one of the guest rooms,' I said. I fixed one for you yesterday. Or... you can sleep with me.'

Adam's pretty smile returned. You mean, in your bed, next to you?!' he said with mock surprise. Ewww, gross.'

`And we can play, you know... games,' I said. My little friend down you-know-where started getting excited, and, seeing as Adam's hands now made their way to his own crotch, I assumed he was experiencing the same thing.

Oh, yeah?' he said. What kind of games?' He smiled and got out of his seat, his dick popping out and staring at me as he walked over to me and stood behind my chair. He bent down and started stroking my cock while he kissed my neck.

Well,' I said, trying to divide my attention between his soft hand on my dick and continuing our teasing conversation, some... games that only guys can play... You still owe me a blowjob, Adam...'

I do not!' he said, squeezing my cock. We didn't say anything about that. You just got down and sucked me off of your own free will.'

`Yeah?'

`Yes, Brian. Now I'm giving you this because I feel I should give you something in return.'

Nice of you,' I said. But you won't give me a blowjob?' Adam's hand on my cock was slowly but surely bringing me to the Land of Orgasm. I turned my head a bit to the right and caught his lips in a long kiss.

`I didn't say that either. You just have to give me a chance to... get ready.'

I laughed. `Well, you better hurry up, you little asshole, or else I'm going to cum all over your hand.'

He immediately, much to my chagrin, stopped jerking me off. `We don't want that, now do we?' he said between kisses.

Adam,' I said, when I was in Britain last year I picked up a word that they use for an interesting little activity. Buggering. Here they're more vulgar. They call it--'

Butt-fucking. Yeah, I know,' Adam said with a giggle. You ever think about that, Brian?'

`Yeah, sometimes,' I said.

`Me too. It seems like a pretty cool thing. Must hurt, though.'

`Yeah, I'm sure it does,' I said.

`We'll see,' Adam said, kissing me again.

`You mean--'

`Only if you want to.'

I thought about it for a wile, not that there was very much to talk about.

`Do you want to?' I asked.

`Yeah, kinda. I took gymnastics for a while when I was younger. I can get into some pretty funky positions.'

Jesus. Not only was he gorgeous but he was a gymnast. I thought I would wake up any minute and realise that I had dreamt the whole thing. If that was true, I'd probably have hanged myself in the attic. Or at least treated everyone I encountered the next day like shit.

So we went back upstairs (after, of course, I put a chip-clip on the bag of Doritos and put the empty glasses of orange juice in the dishwasher-- I'm a neat-freak and damn proud of it) and sat down on the bed. It was time for a shower. Adam took one in my bathroom and I went down the hall to the first guest room to shower in there. It was the Ladies' guest room and the whole place smelled of flowers and lavender. I'd have to explain that scent to Adam when I got back in the room. Wouldn't want him to think I'd doused myself with ladies' perfume just to turn him on.

The shower is truly a beautiful place. It's the most private area of the home, I think, and one can do almost anything he wants in there. As I turned the water on, I imagined Adam doing the same in my bathroom, bent over the lip of the tub, running his hand back and forth under the warm water, his gorgeous legs running all the way into a gorgeous butt. I made a mental note to myself to STOP thinking about these things, but I couldn't. I remembered myself at the age of 11, when I discovered a copy of Penthouse Forum on the night stand in one of the guest rooms when a cousin of mine was staying with us. I started looking through it and soon found myself locked in the bathroom, reading. That's when I discovered masturbation. Being a kid is a great thing. No-one should ever miss it, and no-one should ever have to grow up.

That's when the melancholy started creeping into me. I started feeling sorry for myself that I hadn't met Adam earlier, and started thinking about what would happen when I went away to college. Would Adam find another guy? Shit. Maybe I should choose a school in the area; at least that way I can stick around Adam. That's how much I felt I needed that little weasel: I was willing to give up an opportunity at Harvard or Stanford or Princeton to be with him. I'm sure it's a feeling that many have experienced-- you feel that you won't be able to function correctly if you are not with the man or woman you love. It's a paralysing emotion, and I wish I hadn't felt it right at that moment, but I did.

I turned the shower on at a flesh-burning temperature, hoping the water would scald away my thoughts, but it didn't.

I heard a knock at the door. Adam's voice came wafting in, barely audible: `Are you done yet?'

`Not yet, Adam,' I called back.

`Can I come in?'

Oh, shit. I'll never finish this shower. `Sure,' I said, in spite of myself.

The doorknob clicked and the door opened. I stuck my head out of the shower curtain. `Hi,' I said.

Adam walked toward me, his hair still damp from his own shower, wearing the famous bathrobe. He leaned forward and kissed me. `Hi. You don't mind if I sit here while you take a shower, do you? I was getting lonely over there.' He smiled shyly. He was adorable.

I wasn't too happy in here alone either,' I said. I can smell your cologne.'

`Do you like it?'

`Very sexy,' I said. I pulled my head back into the shower and continued to soap myself. The only shampoo in the bathroom was this stuff that smelled like Guerlain perfume, but I thought I may as well use it. I'm sure Adam smelled it, but-- bless his heart-- he didn't make a comment.

Have you been thinking about me, Brian?' came his voice from the other side of the bathroom. I guessed he was sitting on the basin. Because I was thinking about you while I was in the shower. I'll miss you if you go away for college.'

We really were made for each other. We even thought about the same things. I was thinking about that to,' I said. Don't worry, though. If I go away we'll call and write all the time.'

`But it's not the same. I want to SEE you. I don't just want to read something you wrote or hear your voice on the phone. I want to be able to touch your hands and smell your hair and all that stuff.' His voice started to break up on the last phrase; he was probably crying.

`Adam?' I said.

There was a pause. `Yeah?' Definitely crying.

I stuck my head out the shower curtain again and saw him; he wasn't bawling, but he was pretty broken up. `Come here,' I said.

`What?'

`Come over here. I want to kiss you.'

He got up and started walking toward, looking as if he had no idea what I was talking about. I leaned forward and kissed him on the lips; a long, deep kiss that probed his soul. `Don't cry, Adam. It's so many months away.'

That made another tear roll down his pristine cheek. `But just thinking about it makes me feel bad. I know we've just been... together for one night, but I feel like I've known you for ages. You know so much about me that no-one else knows.'

Now it started to break my heart. The duet that I had intended to learn with Adam was, as I said before, from MISS SAIGON, and now his words harkened back to that musical, the main theme of which was `How in one night have we come so far?'

`Go back to the bedroom, Adam. I'll be there in a minute.'

He looked at me one more time, then turned around to leave. `Don't be too long,' he said as he closed the door.

I couldn't get it out of my head. How, in just a few hours, had Adam and I started to mean so much to each other?

BRIAN AND ADAM, PART TWO

Chapter Two

Adam and I didn't do anything that had to do with our butts that night. I think we were both too distraught to even think about anything sexual, let alone actually do it. Human beings are strange in that manner: our emotions can cloud of physical sexual drive. You don't see dogs getting depressed and not procreating with their partners, but human beings do. It's like a safety mechanism, and I hate it when it sets into motion.

The next day, Saturday, turned bitingly cold. The Indian summer we had been experiencing somehow blew away and in came wind that was so Arctic I could swear I smelled Eskimos and their sled dogs in the breeze. It was somewhere in the neighbourhood of 15 degrees F (cold for a Washington November), and I had fixed the hardtop of my convertible with Adam's help.

The garage was as cold as it was outside, since the heaters that my dad had had installed in there did not work very well when it was that cold. Even machines can't brave the punishment of Mother Nature. The metal of the hardtop was uncomfortable, freezing our hands into little wads of ice.

By the time we finished locking the top into place on the car, we could do nothing but sit in the car with our hands between our legs, trying to keep our blood from freezing.

'We should go inside,' I said.

'Yeah. It's freezing.' Adam was only wearing the shirt and shorts he had worn to sleep. I had dressed already, in pants and a sweater. I took the sweater off and put it over his shoulders. 'Thanks.'

We walked inside, up the stairs and into the mud room, then into the main part of the house, where we put our hands over the fire that was burning in the family room and warmed ourselves. I took Adam's hands into my own and started rubbing them to get the blood flowing hot and strong. 'Your hands are like ice,' I said. I brought them up to my mouth and started blowing on them. Then I started kissing his fine fingers, the small knuckles and the palm, the smooth, slim wrist. His hands WERE like ice: pretty soon my lips hurt because they were so cold.

`You cant stop, can you?' Adam asked with a smirk.

I kept kissing his hand, a pretty affirmative answer to his question. His hands were starting to warm up, and he bought his other hand up to my cheek and began caressing my face. One of his fingers found its way onto my lips and began snaking into my mouth. I sucked it avidly as I would have any other of Adam's pretty appendages. He brought his hands around my neck and pulled me close to him and kissed me; his lips still tasted of the hot chocolate and oatmeal we had had for breakfast. I felt his hot little tongue pressing against my lips, and I let him in, and I tasted more of him. I was filled with desire for my Adam.

We began to walk further into the family room, onto the couch where all of this had begun. I started removing the sweater he had put on, breaking our kiss only long enough to get the sweater over his head; I could smell his cologne, which had already permeated the fibres of the sweater. His hands wandered down to the zipper of my pants and undid it; the pants were shucked off and left on the floor. His shorts went next, the sexy Umbros that hid nothing. I was sitting on the sofa and he was straddling my lap, facing me. He was in his underwear and a T-shirt, I was in my underwear and a long-sleeved Oxford; it must have been a cute sight.

He started unbuttoning my shirt as my hands crept under the waistband of his briefs; what they found there was Adam's hard cock, straining to be free of its bonds, straining to be relieved and to be pleasured. You want to have sex with me, dont you Brian? Adam said, as matter-of-factly and as calmly as he had said it before, and this time there was no hesitation.

Yes, was the answer, loud and clear. Yes, I did want him, and I wanted him so badly it made me hurt.

His kisses started moving from my mouth to my neck, and then from my neck to my chest. Each touch of his lips sent a bolt of electricity through me that I had never experienced before. I didnt know what it was. Adam's kisses made me feel wanted and needed, and perhaps that was it. Whatever it was or might have been, it made the sex with Adam spectacular, like a show that should have been playing at a museum or on stage-- it needed some sort of distinction.

I was lost in thinking. Thinking about Adam and about what we were sharing. By the time my consciousness moved back to Adam's mouth, it was already at my crotch, kissing the little triangle of pubic hair and licking my hard cock through the fabric of my boxers. I knew what he was doing: he was teasing me the way I had teased him. And I felt exactly the way he must have felt the night before, wanting so badly to put my cock into that hot mouth, yet not wanting to ruin the build-up. It was a dilemma that was beyond human control.

Adam started taking my boxers off, and my hard cock sprang into full view.

Adam smiled. He kissed it and then started taking his own underwear off; he straddled me again, my cock buried under him, between his legs. It felt great.

`Do you want to try it now?' he asked.

`Try what?'

Adam smiled again, shyly this time. He leaned forward and kissed me, then whispered into my ear: `You know.'

I nodded. He got up, bounded off into the bedroom upstairs and came back with a tube of some moisturizer. He sat next to me and started twisting the cap off of the tube.

I use it to keep my hands soft,' he said. He started laughing softly. You know me-- vain, vain, vain. He squirted a bit of the moisturizer onto his hand, then looked at my cock, then squirted a little more. This is going to be my first time so be gentle, OK?'

`I promise, I said.'

He spread the lotion on his hands and then started rubbing it into my cock. He could just have kept doing that until I came, I didnt really care. It was wonderful.

Then he did something that I didnt really expect. He lay down on the floor and spread his legs a bit. Then he told me to get on top of him.

`How?' I asked.

`Come on. I told you I took gymnastics when I was younger. Don't worry.'

As I got off of the sofa and walked over to where he was, he lifted his legs up in the air and spread them wide. That gave me access to his hole, and then I understood. He wanted me to fuck him like that. Interesting.

I knelt down in front of him and positioned my cock over his ass. `Are you sure?' I asked.

Yes,' he whispered. Put it in.'

I started easing my cock into him. He groaned when the first inch slid inside his ass (a groan of pain, not of pleasure) and I asked again,` Are you sure?'

He nodded and, as a sign that he wanted more, bucked his hips to get more of me inside him. My cock was in ecstasy. Adam's ass was tight and hot, unlike anything else I had ever experienced. I knew from that moment on that I would never settle for a blowjob again. Fucking Adam's ass was a divine experience; I knew I'd have to commemorate it somehow; maybe I'd have the tube of lotion bronzed.

I put my hands on Adam's hips to steady myself and to make entry and exit easier. Adam started to moan as he began stroking his own cock with his slippery hands. It was a gorgeous sight to see him lying on his back, hand on his cock and cock in his ass, with his eyes tightly shut, concentrating solely on what was going on in the nether regions of his beautiful body.

I started to fuck him faster. Not harder, really, but just faster. I promised to be gentle. Then I got the signal from Adam: Harder he said.

Ram yourself into me!

I smiled, wanting him more than ever. I started fucking him almost violently, pounding myself into his ass with more power than was reasonable. He started yelling each time my cock went in, sounding like a woman having an orgasm. It was a sexy sound, and it made me hornier. As I got ever closer to orgasm, I felt Adam's ass tighten around my cock, and then pulsate around it, squeezing it. Adam was cumming. I looked down at his face: his eyes were closed and his lips were pressed together and his brow was furrowed; I looked down at his cock, which had spewed wads of cum onto his stomach. The sights made me so hot that, with one more thrust into Adam's beautiful ass, I came as well. Hot, long wads of cum; I could imagine them entering Adam's ass to the parts that no other human being had ever seen or felt.

We lay like that for a moment, wallowing in sweat and in the smell of our sex. I pulled my cock out of Adam and lay beside him; I put a hand on his leg and my head into the hollow between his shoulder and his neck-- I could still smell his cologne; his perspiration made it stronger and muskier.

`That was excellent,' he said.

Come on,' I said. Let's take a shower.' It was much-needed now.

We walked upstairs, using our hands and our shirts to keep the cum from dripping down onto the rugs or the hardwood. It was a tedious task. Adam walked in front of me, and I got a good look at the ass that I had just fucked. It was pretty; Adam had a very cute butt.

We got into the bathroom and turned the water on, kissing and fondling each other while we waited for it to get hot. By the time it did, Adam and I were both hard as rocks again, and he was ready for a blowjob. I was happy to oblige him.

We stepped into the shower and pulled the curtain closed. I started kissing Adam again, exploring his mouth with my tongue. He moved his hands down to my cock, fondling my balls and stroking my cock. I whispered into his ear: `Let me suck you off.'

He pushed me down to my knees so my head was right in front of his crotch. His cock looked smooth and hard and hot in front of me, and I was dying to suck it. I started kissing the head, then took it into my mouth. Adam shivered. Water came down from his stomach in sheets of warmth over my mouth and his cock; it made his cock slippery.

My tongue made swirls around the head of his cock, licking the slit and then concentrating again on the nerve-filled little mushroom that gave Adam all the pleasure in the world. Adam started bucking against my mouth again, shoving his cock into my mouth and then pulling it out again. It didnt take him long to cum, and when he did, I was presented with a small gift of semen. I swallowed it greedily, knowing it would probably be the last wet cum hed have that morning. I kept his cock in my mouth, letting it slacken there.

Then I got up, kissed Adam and whispered: `Your cock tasted great.'

`I try my best,' he said.

I started thinking of more ways we could pleasure each other; there didnt seem to be many more. Then I remember his feet; his smooth, handsome feet that seemed to give him and me as much pleasure as his cock did. `Do you want another massage?' I asked.

Adam knew what I was getting to. He knew I loved making love to his feet.

Strange: they say fetishes don't appear in men and women until they are in their thirties or forties, but I, at the age of sixteen, already had a fetish for Adam's feet. That is not, of course, to say that I had a fetish for feet in general; I just liked Adam's feet. They were so cute.

We got out of the shower and started drying off, kissing the whole time. We couldnt get enough of each other; we were obsessed and infatuated, as teenagers should be, with hot, wild, uncontrolled sex.

Once dry, we went into the bedroom. He lay down on the bed as I sat at his feet. He knew what to do. He put his right foot on my lap and I began to rub it again. Then I bent down and kissed his toes. Adam started giggling.

`Are you ticklish?' I asked.

`A little,' he said, giggling harder.

I started running a finger up and down the sole of his foot, and he pulled it away from my reach, laughing. Stop,' he said. Don't tickle, or else I wont let you touch them again.' That was very serious threat.

`I'm sorry,' I said.

He put his foot up right in front of my face. `Tell my foot that you're sorry,' he said. He started laughing again.

Foot,' I said. I'm very sorry for what I did. I promise that I'll never do it again and that I will live only for the purpose of pleasing you... and your master.'

Adam burst out laughing, harder and louder than before. `Good,' he said.

I started kissing his toes again, then ventured to lick them, making love to them as best I could without the experience. I assumed I was doing pretty well, as I noticed Adam's cock getting hard. Mine was already hard, seeing as I had the sexiest feet and the sexiest guy on Earth right in front of me.

`I stopped kissing his feet. Why don't we take a break?' I said.

`Adam frowned, then smiled. Save some for later, you mean?'

Exactly,' I said. Let's go out. Let's get out of this place for a while.'

So we did.

BRIAN AND ADAM, PART THREE

Chapter One-- An Argument

It was April already, and five months had passed since Adam and I had met and become very close friends. Spring was young but already hectic: My mother and father had come in for a visit and then had gone back to the apartment in London; my car started acting up so I took it into the shop for a couple of days and got a little sedan as a service loaner. Turned out that the oxygen sensor in my car's engine compartment was going haywire, and it was affecting the performance of the engine; they fixed it and I paid the bill.

On the second day of April, a Friday, I spent the last period of classes studying alone in a classroom in one of the buildings on our school's campus. I was reviewing Virgil for an upcoming oral exam. I did this often, this studying alone, because it gave me a chance not only to study but to think of everything that was going on in my life at the time; the silence of the classroom and of the building was just the thing to spur such mind activity. But the silence that day was broken by footsteps that seemed to be approaching the door to the classroom I was in; the footsteps got louder, then began to fade again. But soon they approached again, and whoever it had been who had walked past the classroom had come back.

'Hi,' I heard from the door.

I looked up and saw Adam standing in the doorway, some books in his right hand and his gym bag in his left. 'Hi,' I said. 'Come in and join me.'

He walked into the room and sat in the desk next to mine. He started inching the desk toward me ever so slightly. 'What are you doing?'

'Studying for Mr M's exam next week. They say it's going to be a whopper,' I said, closing the book. By the time I put the book into my bag, Adam's desk was right next to mine.

'One kiss,' he said.

'No! Someone will see us!' I looked in the direction of the doorway and listened for footsteps. None.

'Just one,' he insisted.

I hesitated, but then decided that one innocent little kiss wouldn't hurt anyone. So I leaned toward him and kissed him, his lips pressing against mine with an urgency that only teenagers know. I knew I should have broken the kiss sooner, but I didn't; I was lost in Adam's desire as much as he was lost in mine. And of course someone came and looked into the classroom and saw us. It was Joe S.

Adam caught the movement in the corner of his eye and pulled away from me.

'Holy shit,' he whispered.

I turned around and saw Joe standing in the doorway, a strange but not quite unhappy look on his face. 'What the fuck are you doing here?' I asked him.

'It's a classroom, Brian,' he said.

'Fucking hell,' I said. 'Adam, I told you--'

'Don't worry, guys,' Joe said. 'Not a word.'

'Are you serious?' Adam asked. 'You won't tell anyone?

Joe shook his head. 'Scout's honour.' He smiled. 'As long as one of you gives me a blowjob one of these days.'

Adam and I looked at each other. He was scared. 'Joe, isn't that a little unreasonable?' I asked.

'For keeping your secret? I don't think so.' Then Joe's smile broke through and he laughed heartily. 'Don't take everything so seriously, Brian. I was just kidding.'

I didn't get it. I didn't think Adam did either.

Joe turned around and started walking to the door. 'See you guys later,' he said as he stepped through the doorway. For some reason Joe wasn't wearing the uniform of shirt, tie and sports coat; I wondered why. It turned out that he was on the tennis team (I knew this but it didn't come to mind until later) and he had a match that afternoon. He was in shorts and a T-shirt. He had v

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nal, but when he did get riled up, he got very animated and very expressive. I knew he had problems with his parents (they were rather protective, to the point of being repressive, and this was one of the reasons Adam liked staying with me on the weekends) but they were normal teenager-parent problems. He had a nice friendship with my sister, who was in tune with parents and their habits, being the first-born. Adam had permeated every facet of my life, and this made me happy beyond anyone's imagination. I smiled whenever I heard his voice or smelled his cologne or saw his sneakers tossed over to one side of my bedroom. He made me happy, and that was not something I was ready to surrender.

Two or three minutes after Adam stormed out of the classroom, I realised that I would have to find him, and that I had no idea where to start.

I thought he might be in the gym, and so I went there first. Amidst Hi, Brian's' and Are you coming to the match's', I found Adam's locker (number 19) and found that the area around it was clear. He had not changed out of his uniform.

Was Adam in here? I asked David S, who was sitting on a nearby bench. He and Adam were classmates.

Nope,' he said. Are you coming to see me play?' he asked. He was on the lacrosse team.

Sorry,' I said. I'll have to take a raincheck. Thanks.' I went upstairs to the basketball court. Adam wasn't there. He wasn't in the pool nor was he on the tennis courts outside. I thought he might be at the stables and figured it would be easier for me to get my car and drive over there instead of walk all the way across campus.

When I got to the parking lot, I noticed a note stuck onto my windshield. I hoped it was from Adam, but from afar I could tell that it wasn't his handwriting. It was from my classmate Justin R, reminding me that we were supposed to go down to DC together the next afternoon to do research for a paper. He asked if I could drive, because it was hard to parallel-park a sport-utility, and because I was an expert at parallel-parking my Mercedes.

I got into the car and drove to the stables. Not there. I made a U-turn and drove (too fast) to the campus' exit. In my rear-view I saw a white Land Rover pull up behind me. Mrs H's car. Adam was in the front seat and his mom was driving. I looked at him through the rear-view, knowing he could see me. He looked like he wanted to say something.

A horn sounded-- Mrs H signaling me to get moving; I hadn't seen the green light. I made a right turn and then another right in the direction of my house. Mrs H followed, then passed me when she had an opening. When she passed on the left I looked into the truck and saw Adam. He was looking at my and looked unhappy.

I'll follow you, I mouthed.

He nodded.

So, instead of going straight on that road to get to my house, I made a left and followed Mrs H's white Land Rover to their house. On the way I pushed a tape into the Mercedes' too-much-treble cassette player. It was my tape of favourite operatic pieces. If I remember correctly, it was a part of Le Nozze di Figaro playing, and it reminded me of a trip I took to Frankfurt, where they happened to be producing that opera. I had a surprise for Adam concerning that. My parents told me I could `bring a friend' the next time I went to visit them in London, and I planned on taking Adam with me and see Le Nozze di Figaro with him because he seemed to enjoy it the one time I played it while he was in the car. Adam was generous. We had opposite tastes in music-- his was rock (big Dead fan) and mine was classical. But, whereas I forbade him to play his music while we were in the car, Adam always put up with mine, wherever I played it. In my mind, Adam always did everything he could to make me happy, while my intentions, it seemed, were always selfish. Was that love? Love should be something shared, not something one-sided. This was something I realised only then-- the entire time Adam and I were together, everything had to please me. It was a sad thing that Adam never said anything and allowed it to build up inside him until we reached the relationship-damaging argument we had that beautiful April day. It was obviously my fault. I'd have to go to Adam and apologise and ask forgiveness; I was surprised that I was not at all reluctant to do that.

Love: is it the conundrum that we as human beings must deal with and know well. There is not a single human beings that has ever existed on this blue planet that has not experienced Love in at least one of its many forms. Love come to us as many things: There is True Love, which we may see as a combination or Romantic and Friendly Love; there is Physical Love, which is a sort of infatuation that is almost wholly sexual; there is Fraternal and Filial Love; and, finally, there is Non-Love, which we may commonly refer to as Hatred. So you see why I say that no-one has never experienced love in one of its forms, for Love embodies almost every emotion imaginable.

People don't think about Love often because it seems so commonplace. It is normally taken for granted. Perhaps the only time that we as human beings ever really consider Love and analyse its effects on us is when we (individually, that is) do not experience True Love. Physical Love is found everywhere and in everyone, no matter what state of True Love we are in or if we are in a state of True Love at all-- Physical Love is an animal instinct with no noble spiritual/psychological value to it. Human beings experience Physical Love as a result of being human beings, and thus members of the animal kingdom.

The process of attracting a mate in the animal kingdom is normally rather simple: it rests on physical strength and appearance. Two stags may fight for a doe; two kangaroos may duke it out for a girlfriend. Now, whereas many species of animal focus only on physical appearance and attraction to get/choose a mate, humans employ certain devious tactics and plot attacks to win a mate, as though the process is one of war. This a distinctly human function, this `love as war' concept, and makes the progression almost a type of entertainment for human beings.

The house came up on our right, and Mrs H drove the truck into the garage.

It looked like Mr H and the older brother weren't home yet, because their cars were not in the garage or on the driveway. I hoped Mrs H would let Adam get out for a while so he could come with me; we needed to talk.

I once read a book by Virginia Woolf that dealt wholly with the basic human need for privacy. She went on for two-hundred boring pages of German-esque essay about how she would have been unable to write without `a room of one's own.' Why do human beings love to hear their own voices and read their own written words? I suppose if this were not the case, I might have written this story in five words: we met, we had sex.

Let's not joke ourselves about it. Let's not mince words about it. Let's not lie to future generations about it. Human life is all about pleasure, and pleasure is all about sex. Certain philosophers have proposed that Life is for the purpose of suffering, and suffering is for the purpose of growing and learning the meaning of life. They were mistaken. Human beings are idiots for ever having thought that they should be deprived or forbidden the experience of pleasure. Everything we do, in one way or another, is done in order to achieve or as a consequence of pleasure. Some people do not enjoy sexual pleasure; I, for one, cannot comprehend this. They take pleasure in doing other things: in contributing to a charity, in being good parents, in makings themselves known in a good way.

All of those things seem like reasonable and noble aspirations, but in fact they lack all nobility, for they are selfish things the simply masque themselves in feigned honour. This is the portrait of the true human beings: a selfish creature that revels in doing selfish things but makes the impression that he is a just and noble man.

Before I lose my audience completely in these philosophical arguments, let me advance the plot just a bit. Mrs H got out of the car first. She looked outside the garage and saw my Mercedes parked on the driveway. She had come to know the car well. I saw her lips move but did not hear her words; I assumed she had asked Adam if he knew I was coming. I saw Adam get out of the truck, and Mrs H nodded.

Hello, Brian,' she called from the garage. Where are you guys going?'

Adam had started toward my car. He was trying to hide the fact that he had just started crying again. `I'm not sure yet, Mrs H,' I said. Adam stood at the passenger's side of my car. I unlocked the doors. He pulled the door open, got into the car and closed the door again, all without saying a word or even looking in my direction.

I saw Mrs H wave at us as her garage door closed; I waved back. I backed the car out of their driveway and started driving; I didn't know exactly where I wanted to go. Adam was silent. He was motionless. I waited for him to say something, but there were no words.

I stopped the car in the parking lot of a small shopping mall right on the border between Maryland and Washington DC. `Adam...' I started.

He sniffled, but said nothing.

`Adam... Do you know that I love you?'

He looked up at me. `You do?'

Yes,' I said. When you left that classroom this afternoon and I didn't know if I'd be able to even talk to you again, I realised that I do.' I brought my hand up to his face and wiped the wetness from his cheeks. `And it hurts to see you cry.'

`Sorry,' he said, smiling and wiping his eyes.

Then we were silent again. I put the car back into gear and started on the way back to Adam's house.

`Brian?' Adam said finally.

`Yeah?'

`I love you too.'

BRIAN AND ADAM, PART THREE

Chapter Two-- Surprises

A week after Adam and I officially Got Back Together, I had my hair cut short. Really short. As in George-Clooney-Ross-from-FRIENDS short. Unfortunately, the haircut didn't fit me very well. It didn't look terrible, but instead of looking stylish and cool, I looked like a recovering chemotherapy patient. It was not quite a sexy effect. But Adam didn't seem to mind and, to make me feel better, went off to get his hair cut the same way. It was a cute thing, the two of us having the same bad haircut.

We started doing everything together (previously we were really just having sex)-- we started actually dating. Our first official date didn't start out as a date to begin with. My sister was not going to be home on a Sunday evening, so I told Adam (who was staying with me because his parents and brother were skiing somewhere in Utah and he decided not to go) we should go out to dinner. We went to a nice restaurant in Washington. Dinner was OK... nothing great, although the ambiance in the restaurant seemed to be conducive to both romantic joinings and business deals-- you could see couples looking deeply into each other's eyes as well as businessmen in suits shaking hands over empty glasses of scotch. Maybe that was their substitute for love-making-- money-making. Adam had steak tips over a garden salad; I had a small prime rib (which I ordered medium-well but which came out pretty well-done). I didn't make a fuss over the quality of the food. I was happy just to be sitting across the table from the one person on Earth who made me most happy. Nothing compares to the bliss that new lovers share, and Adam and I were no exception to the rule.

Don't misunderstand me: you may have inferred from previous chapters (namely the ones on the nature of men and the truth about love and human beings) that my relationship with Adam was the first real `Love' that this planet has witnessed; that is not at all true. But we did, in my belief, have something more noble than most people do.

The conversation that night at the table eventually turned to sex, as it sometimes did when Adam and I talked after not having had sex in several days (we didn't see much of each other that first week after the short break-up because of rehearsal and school and all sorts of other nasty things). He said he wanted to do it that night, all night, and that he wanted to do every sexual thing possible and imaginable.

`That might be difficult,' I said.

`I don't think so. I have a surprise for you, Brian.' He had that mischievous look on his face that I had come to both be wary of and adore.

`What?' I asked.

`You'll see when we get home. Finish your dinner so we can get to it,' he said, smiling.

I didn't have the patience nor the stomach to finish my dinner, so I asked for the tab and paid with my dad's credit card (WHK-- without his knowledge). For a horrible prime rib, the price was quite ridiculous, but it was worth it simply to be `out on the town,' so to speak, with Adam. Outside, I gave the valet out ticket stub and he went around to the restaurant's garage to get my dad's Lotus (British super-car that wasn't quit as expensive as a Ferrari, making it a great value). From the way the valet was smiling, I figured he had enjoyed driving the Esprit that 1/4 mile from the garage to where we were waiting. Probably had an orgasm just stepping on the gas, I though. Adam got into the passenger seat and I got into the driver's seat. I liked the Lotus because of its clutchless manual transmission-- a great feature for guys like me who

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