Discovering Love

By: Rick Beck
(© 2018 by the author)
Editor: Jerry W.

The author retains all rights. No reproductions are allowed without the author's consent. Comments are appreciated at...

beck@tickiestories.us

Chapter 14
It's All Under Control, Isn't It?

By the next day I'd sorted through everything that happened over the weekend a few times. I understood that I didn't know anything about sex. I'd done some things to increase my knowledge when experimentation became possible. As much as I liked Greg, I knew Doug was the kind of person I ordinarily would pick for a friend. The fact they were brothers really complicated my feelings. I didn't want to pick one and lose the other.

The excitement Greg furnished me was great for a cheap thrill but it would never amount to any more than that. While I got my share of cheap thrills over the two days, or nights, I spent at Greg's, that wasn't what I wanted my life to be about. Hence forward, I would be Doug's friend and ignore Greg's arrogance. I didn't think I could ignore Greg because of the way my brain fogged over each time he came into range.

I'd worked it all out by second period on Tuesday and I felt really good about myself. For the rest of the day I didn't even think about Greg. I was happy with myself as well as my resolve, and I couldn't wait to get home to see if maybe Doug would come over so we could continue getting to know each other. As I turned the corner and started down the long row of red lockers toward the back of the school, I saw Greg leaning with his back against my locker. He looked odd. Gone was the cocky bravado. He seemed somewhat deflated.

"What's up," I said, standing like I wanted to get into the locker he blocked with his back.

"You take all those books home with you?" He asked, looking at the books and running his finger down the backs to examine the titles.

"Not if I don't have to," I said, tossing some in and taking some out, after he pushed himself to one side.

"Want to walk home with me?" He asked.

"For what," I said.

"We can talk."

"After that great conversation we had yesterday. What could be left to say? I'm almost talked out. Your careful planning get sidetracked or what?"

"God, Martin, you can't take anything I say seriously. You know I'm full of shit. I think we need to talk."

"I strongly suspected you were full of it, but it's nice to get a confirmation from the horse’s mouth. What do you want? I told Doug I'd see him after school."

"He's got Karate Club and my mother picks him up at the junior high."

"Oh! He didn't mention that. So I get you instead, huh? Doug's a lot nicer."

"But not nearly as exciting to be around. I told you, I'm a nice guy. You have me all wrong. I don't mean half of what I say. I just talk too much."

"Lucky I don't pay much attention, huh?"

"I owe you some lessons. I always pay up."

When I shut my locker my shoulder was against his chest and when I turned my head to look at him our faces were only inches apart. In spite of his superior height, our lips were not so very far apart as I thought they should be. It was definitely hard to breathe and those lips looked like a double dip chocolate Sunday to me.

His pale blue eyes blinked easily, as we stood speechless. I inhaled deep to smell him. His odor inhabited my brain and I recognized it. The heat from his body made me feel warm all over. I smelled a sweetener on top of his usual manly scent. It had all but given out by sixth period, allowing his true honest smell to come clear in my nose.

I broke the stare first, looking down at my feet first, trying to break through the fog and the feelings he instilled in me. He once again called the shots and I danced to his tune. Two giggly girls passed behind us and forced his retreat. My resolve had dissolved some place between sixth period and my locker. I wanted to go anywhere he had in mind. I wanted to be with him.

The birds were singing and the breeze rustled the new green leaves above our heads but there wasn't much to say while we walked the path to the other side of the woods. I felt like I should say something but I didn't, and I wasn't sure this wouldn't give him the idea that I was following blindly along like everyone else seemed to do?

I'd do anything for Greg but I wasn't going to do it on his terms. I'd never let him know what he made me feel and I still wasn't sure why all logic and reason shut down when he was near me. I was sure I was going to go as far as I could if the opportunity arose.

As he led me down into the basement, I could smell the opportunity rushing up out of the cool dark room, and it stiffened my desire for him even more. Was the basement itself a source of lustful cravings, which would quickly fill each boy as they descended into Greg's carefully prepared domain? As quick as the odor rushed up at me, I was thinking of getting with him, disregarding all the consequences that had seemed so important on my way there.

It wasn't just the musk smell coming from the substance caked on the walls and to the tied bundles of papers under the steps. It was the images the smell evoked. Images of naked boys with throbbing erections they hoped to get serviced before they returned to less opportune environs. By the time I was at the bottom of the steps I could see Alfie massaging cocks thrust into his hands as quickly as one was free. The dripping boys didn't seem to know inhibitions that took over their lives once they got back up the stairs. I remembered them standing on line, waiting for a hand and some relief for the constant desire they lived with.

Greg reminded me we were shooting pool after a time. He began to explain the subtle points of the game to me. I watched him move around the table and remembered the taste of his cock and the feel of its inflamed flesh on my lips. My own jeans became a hindrance to the game each time I would lean on the table to make a shot. The distraction grew as the game proceeded.

When there was something other than a straight in shot, he'd lean down attentively and go about explaining how best to place the ball in the pocket. It was basic Geometry that required good vision and some comprehension of shot selection if you wanted to achieve the best results. I knew how to do it but I wasn't very good at it. There was something about me being around him that made logical thought all but impossible. It must have been something like jamming radar. Whatever it was, Greg was a natural born disruptor to my thought processes, and I sure as hell didn't need any help from him to get my brain malfunctioning.

I tried to listen to him. I wanted to beat his pants off, literally, but those damn eyes kept following me around the table. I mostly watched him pointing and explaining while I imagined shooting a game of my own. It was obvious to both of us that my pool wasn't getting any better after a few games. He would be clearing the table while I still had five or six balls left.

I'd stand to one side and watch his body gracefully moving from shot to shot. He took his shirt off after the first game just to keep my mind off pool. I inhaled deeply each time a shot brought him close to me. Between his strong scent and the scent emanating from under the stairs I had an Ever last lead pencil in my pants. I tried to adjust it covertly and each time I placed my palm on it to push it down, he'd be looking up at me with his inquisitive eyes.

A half an hour into my lesson, He leaned over me as I was shooting. He arranged the cue in my hand without ever saying what he was doing. As he explained how to line up that particular shot, his body pressed into mine firmly. I could feel him pressing the front of his jeans against the back of mine. I knew I wasn't going to learn anything else about pool, but it was getting more likely I'd learn more about Greg.

It seemed like he wanted to do more than give me pool lessons just about then, but we'd both known that from the time I saw him leaning on my locker. He touched me when and where he wanted, knowing there was little I could say that wouldn't sound ungrateful for the time he took with me. Once he stood behind me as I made a shot and when I stood up, my back was against his chest. He made no effort to move. The bulge in his pants had risen to the occasion. I just stood still until he moved out from behind me. When I leaned to take my very next shot, he moved around the table, placing his bulge on the rail as I studied the angle that led right to it.

I wanted him so bad right then. I wanted to get on my knees and unzip his pants and give him what was on both of our minds. It would be the kiss of death if I did that. It would all be over and it would be the final time Greg and I ever shared any intimacy. I don't know how I had come by this knowledge, but if there was one thing I wouldn't do, it was anything that would assure an end to whatever it was that was going on between us.

I wasn't just another boy who could get with him and then walk away. I couldn't give him what he wanted unless he came for it. I started to wonder why he had come to my locker? Greg had any number of guys he could play with. Why me? What was he looking for? What did he know? How far would he go to get what he wanted?

"Go ahead. Get comfortable," he said after arranging his bulging jeans in front of my shot. "I know it's hot down here. Take off your shirt if you like."

He unbuttoned and then unzipped his pants half way down for incentive, watching my eyes to make sure he had my attention, and then he shoved his fingers down to move his cock off to one side. I could see the cleft under the head in the fabric of the jeans. I swallowed hard as he smiled.

"This is the longest anyone's been down here with all their clothes on since my old man shot a game with me a few weeks ago. Makes me want to get naked, you know."

"Don't let me stop you," I said after pulling off my shirt.

There were two problems with taking off my shirt. I looked anemic when compared to Greg. I also had no way to hide the bulge that refused to stay put in my pants. I used my hands as a foil when I wasn't taking a shot, but I wasn't fooling any one and touching myself simply gave me other ideas that can't be discussed in polite company. Our eyes followed each other around but there wasn't much to say at the time.

Neither of us knocked any shots in for several minutes. The balls just cascaded around the table without purpose while the players played a game that had indecisive rules. It was right after taking a minute to finally push my erection down my right leg that Greg decided we'd had enough pool.

"We could go upstairs for awhile before my mom gets home with little brother."

"For a Coke?" I asked.

"No. I meant up upstairs, to my room. I want to get out of these tight jeans. I'm sweating like a hog."

"Yeah! Me too," I said.

I followed Greg up the stairs and he grabbed two beers out of the fridge before going up to his bedroom. He handed me one and drained his as I sat on his bed. He sat on a folding chair to take off his shoes and socks. He pulled his jeans down off of his hips and his cock was a strange darker color as it leaped out, rising until it stood straight out from his brown patch as he kicked the jeans off of his feet.

Greg stood facing and was about an arm's length away. He knew what I was looking at but he allowed me to have a good long look. After a minute he pulled down hard on himself, squeezing just below the head once his fingers felt the ridge. It pointed back up after he let go. I noticed it jerking twice as some invisible force excited it to what I was sure was full size.

"Damn I'm tired. Pool takes a lot out of a guy if you play it right."

"I suspect a gallon of blood rushing into that thing might have something to do with it. Must require a lot of energy to keep it up."

"That could be it, Martin, but I need a quick nap," he said sliding into the bed behind me. He pulled the sheet up over his midsection. "Aren't you tired after all? You should be exhausted the way you play pool, and I can make room for you if you like."

"A little. Maybe I should be getting home. Your mom will be home. I don't want her to think I'm one of your subjects."

"She picks little brother up at five and they stop by B. K. Miller's Market on the way in. That gives us until 5:30 and it's only 4:30. We can relax awhile."

"I've never... ah...." I forgot what I was going to say when he smiled.

"You can lie down if you want. I'm just going to rest my eyes for a minute. Hard day at school! Growing boy needs his rest!"

He closed his eyes for affect as his chest rose and fell evenly while I looked at his incredible body.

When I scooted up beside his legs he moved over in the bed, pulling the sheet away from his body at the same time. His cock pulsed and some clear liquid had appeared at the wide open slit in the plumped rose color head. I put my hand on the inside of his thigh on the fine curly dark hairs that ran up the inside of his leg. He pulled my hand up to the shaft and after he guided me to it, I wrapped my fingers around it and leaned forward to place a kiss on the underside, flicking at the slit with my tongue to clear his head. His body quivered when my lips brushed the exciting flesh.

"Yeah," was a tiny word that barely got to the outside of his lips.

His hand was immediately on my neck and I used my tongue eagerly on the slit. His stomach tensed and there was a shiver that ran through him. I licked and nibbled until I was ready to take the head in my mouth, washing the rose colored tip to collect the fluid pulsing out of him. He seemed quite content with the attention I gave him.

His hand felt my shoulders from one side to the other. There were no demands or instructions. His hips moved gently to furnish as much of him as I wanted. His chest was filling full of air and his mouth hung open to accommodate his needs. When I looked up with his tip between my lips, he was staring right back at me. Our eyes mingled while we each considered what the other was doing in his bed.

"Why don't you get comfortable," Greg said in an uncharacteristic thought about someone else. "You can take your clothes off if you want."

I sat up while looking down at his nudity. His hand pumped himself at a moderate speed. He looked at me as I slipped out of my jeans and underwear and socks, pushing them all off in one quick maneuver that didn't give him long to take a survey. I wanted to get back to work on him before we lost our momentum, but he stopped me before I could get my head back down between his legs.

I suppose it was my idea, or his, or it was by some magic design that neither of us was responsible for, but we were kissing there in the middle of his bed. He was holding my shoulders as our tongues came together in his mouth. He made no effort to push me away. In fact he held me in place with his strong hands. I was dizzy and giddy, lost in our passion. I can't imagine how long we stayed there like that. Time has a way of losing its meaning when you are having the kiss of a lifetime. For all my thoughts about Greg I never imagined he could make me feel like this.

I ended up on top of him with our crotches fencing fervently, our mouths wet with lust and welded together, alive with a hunger for each other. I felt an incredibly power boiling inside of me. After a few more minutes we broke our embrace to lean back and look at each other. My heart pounded and he sucked air big time as he held me on his chest a few inches from his face.

"Did I do something wrong?" I asked, searching his wide eyes.

"Let me fuck you?" Greg said in a desperate plea. "I need to fuck you while we still have some time. Please!"

My hand went around his cock. It sprouted massive from my modest fist. It seemed too large to consider entry through my hole but at the same time I remembered Alfred and how he accommodated all Greg had to give. He used his hand to squeeze mine tighter as I held him. More liquid dripped out of him. I noticed the puddle around his belly button.

"I won't hurt you. You know you want me," he said softly and with confidence.

He thrust his other hand back between my legs as his fingers prodded at me. My face dropped as he poked and our lips were together again, searching for some compromise.

The kiss created a new and more intense ardor that made it possible for him to roll me over onto my stomach while forcing his body tight against my ass. He kept one hand on my stomach and his lips on mine as was pushing the bedding onto the floor while we wrestled.

"Greg!" I said too alarmed when he let go of my lips.

His hand went back between my legs and took hold of my aching cock. He squeezed and twisted as his own cock poked at my hole.

"Greg, I'll shoot if you keep that up," I warned.

I pushed my ass back hard on his erection. It wasn't like I didn't known that this was a possible outcome from out making out. I saw him putting it to Alfred without so much as kiss. I'd seen Herbie doing it to Doug and then Timmy, and there was nothing but dicks and assholes involved. While I didn't know the physics involved or how members like Greg's fit into tiny little butt holes like Alfred's, but it wasn't impossible.

The thought of Greg doing that to me was a bit scary, but it was also very tempting, even with my doubts that I would stretch wide enough without ripping open first. His excitement and anticipation was enough to get me over the hump. He kissed my back and neck as he humped my tightly closed hole.

Before I had time to object too strenuously, I was face down on the bed and Greg was tight up behind me, reaching past my head for the big jar of lube and a small silver foil package that he kept in the drawer at the foot of the bed. Soon he had a finger that felt like five up my butt and there was all this slick shit that had come between us as he forced the inadequate rubber down over his hungry erection.

"It hurts, Greg. Take it easy. I want to be using that again," I said before I was sure it hurt.

His finger was rough and went in and out fast enough that I wasn't sure when it was inside. He leaned over my back and felt between my legs, smearing lubricant on my shaft.

"I'm going to shoot!"

"You like it," he whispered in my ear, pleased with himself for making the discovery.

"It burns," I said when I could tell by the way he panted in my ear, this was no finger he was using on me now. Of course he had one hand on my stomach and one on my dick, and I figured he was running out of hands just about then.

"I know it burns. It'll get better once I'm all the way in you," he panted while forcing himself closer to me as his chest was suddenly pressing hard on my back. I was trying to get that very back on the bed while we talked this over, but Greg seemed to have made up his mind.

"Ohhhh!" I said as I felt him moving deeper into me.

"You okay?" He asked, kissing my neck under my ear. "Half way there. We can do it."

"Yeah," I said, sounding full of it.

"Lean back and help me the last few inches," he said, nibbling up and down. "Just a little bit more now. Oh yeah, you're so fucking tight. Almost there. I'll take it easy now."

"Hey, Greg, you here shithead?" Came a yell from the bottom of the house.

"Shit no! Not now! He tells everyone my business."

"Hey, Greg! You up there?"

"We got to quit. He can't know we're doing this. Go along with me, okay. We'll do this next time, okay?"

Greg sounded disappointed as he eased himself out of me at about the time he got his feet back on to the floor as someone was on their way up the steps, using one heavy footstep at a time.

"Come out come out where ever you are. I know you're here."

Greg grabbing his jeans and a towel, trying to wipe off his dick and put on his jeans at the same time.

"Get dressed, okay?" he said, tossing me my pants, underwear and socks, pushing it all into the air with the tow of his foot as he yanked up his zipper way faster than I ever had the courage to do.

"Get up, Martin," he ordered. "You want him to catch us."

"Like he isn't going to figure it out. Get real, Greg." I stood up to tuck my erection into my jeans as soon as I got them under my feet.

"Sorry, didn't know if you were up here. You should of said something," Herbie said.

"Martin," Greg said, looking at my exposed erection.

"Just washed it. Can't do anything with it," I apologized to Herbie as he stared. "He was just lending me some clothes after I took a shower."

"Big things do come in little packages," Herbie said as I finally got myself completely tucked into my pants.

"Right, with you two around, no package is all that big."

"I meant for a young guy. Don't give up, you'll grow."

"Excuse me! Didn't I interrupt something dirty? I'm sure I was interrupting something dirty." Herbie said, not giving any thought to turning around and letting us get dressed in private.

"Your timing is incredibly bad, Herbie," Greg growled in a totally unfriendly tone of voice.

"Say, if you don't want to waste all that stuff, I could use a good lube job," Herbie said, looking at the towel Greg had used to wipe himself down with after our almost coupling.

"It's from the past weekend, but whatever floats your boat, Stick."

"Did you drive?" I asked. "I fell in a mud puddle on the way home. That's why I needed a shower. Now I'm late and could use a ride."

"You look awful clean for falling into a mud puddle," Herbie said.

"I told you I took a shower," I said.

"Seriously?" Herbie asked. "I didn't catch you guys doing something? I mean I could help with almost anything you were doing."

"He's a pain in my ass," I said. "Not much we're going to do. He did offer to let me use the jeans he was wearing. Way too big. I could never fill his jeans."

"My mother will be home any minute. You know I don't get too worked up this time of day," Greg said, pulling on his shirt. "He was just looking at some of my old clothes while I changed.

"Sure, if you say so. I just came by to see what was up. I can give you a ride."

"Excuse my bad manners, nice seeing you, Martin. I seem to be seeing more of you lately," Herbie said with a big mischievous smile on his face. "Where to?"

"Gregie," a woman's voice wafted up the steps.

"Jesus, I should have sold tickets, Greg sighed, "Yeah, mom."

"Just checking to see if you're home. Dinner in half an hour. We got sirloin steak at the market, your favorite, dear. Anyone else staying for dinner?"

"No. I'm just changing clothes. Be down in a minute, mom. Fries with that?"

"Of course," came the reply.

"Fries are great in the steak juice," Greg said to us.

The footsteps coming up the stairs could have only belonged to one person. I was staring at Doug as I pulled on my shirt. I smiled but he didn't seem amused.

"What's up?" Doug asked, looking at me when he said it.

"Not much. I was just giving Martin a ride home," Herbie said.

"You coming back?" Doug asked.

"I can if you want, squirt."

"Sure," Doug said. "That would be cool. We're having steak."

"And I've got to get home," I said. "Herbie, that ride still on? I think their all too big for me Greg. Thanks for asking," I said while Greg stared at me blankly.

All signs of Greg's excitement were hidden behind the tale of the shirt he put on. Mine had dwindled as soon as Doug showed up. I felt a little dirty after Doug caught me there. I didn't care if Herbie knew Greg and I were going at it.

"I'll walk you to the end of your lane. We don't eat for half an hour," Doug said.

"Yeah, cool. I'll pass on the ride, Herbie. I need the exercise. See you later, Greg," I said, but he said nothing.

"You sure, Martin. I don't have a thing to do but go get my car lubed. I'd be glad to give you a ride to where ever you're going. I thought you was late?"

"I know. Maybe some other time if you want," I said.

"I thought he said.... I'm confused," Herbie said.

"What's new," Greg said.

We walked around and out of the horseshoe drive after slipping out of the kitchen without his mother seeing me. Doug's arm brushed mine three times by the time we got to the street. I couldn't stop thinking about his lips when he turned to say goodbye.

"He don't give no one anything less he wants something out of 'em," Doug said.

"Who does what?"

"Greg wouldn't give you something without getting something from you. I told you he's like that. You better listen to me," Doug said seriously, making me feel about two inches tall. "See you tomorrow, okay?"

"Sure enough. See you tomorrow," I said, dodging between two cars as I crossed Old Highway. I turned in time to watch Doug walking back toward his house.

"What an asshole," I said to myself.

I wasn't sure how I had gotten myself into this mess. I was torn between the two of them and I was fucking up big time. I'd never have Greg and Doug wasn't about to let me take my time choosing between them. If he'd known what Greg and I were doing, he'd never speak to me again, and then I thought about Herbie. I knew he'd tell Doug if I didn't. There was no way to avoid confessing to him what I'd done with his brother.

Why is life so fucking complicated?

To be continued...

Posted: 03/16/18