Just Write

 by: Staley Cole Smith

© 2021 by the Author

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

scsmith@tickiestories.us
 

Part 1

Mr. Harmon stood in front of his senior writing class doling out the assignment.

“Just write about something you enjoy or something you would like to do.  Approach a situation with a common solution, plain and simple.  Feeling despair is a dictionary for words. It can be anything you have thought about, or perhaps working towards either now or in the future.

“How many words does it have to be?”  Asked Tony the twat who would no doubt, cheat anyway. His whole existence was copy and paste.

“I am not limiting you to the number of words or the amount of pages. This is a writing class. The object of this assignment is to find your creative points.  Do not give me a couple of sentences, in case that is what you are thinking. “Just write a paragraph or two. That includes you, Tony.” Everybody laughed.

A few seconds later, after the ringing of the freedom bell, scores of students crowed the halls once again. “Damn, I don’t even have a fuckin dictionary. I do the assignments using the computer,” said Jackson, pushing through the crowd of students with his friend Taylor.

“Dumb ass, he didn’t say to get the words from a dictionary, he was talking about despair being your own words, so write what you are feeling.” Remarked Taylor

“Oh”

“Hi Taylor, are you coming to the party tonight,” swooned a bimbo bleached blond jamming books into her locker.”

“Sure,” replied Taylor walking without out as much as a glance her way. 

“She likes you,” said Jackson trying to keep up with Taylor who did things fast including walking.

“She likes ‘dick’ is what she likes,” replied Taylor

“”Dick who?” asked Jackson

“The dick between your legs, jackass. Why are you in a writing class, you don’t grasp words very well?”

“Writing was the class available for me to take and still play football. I can handle it,” groaned Jackson thinking of the assignment and hating it. “Wanna help me?”

“What’s in it for me?”

“Me, me, me – okay, what do you want?”

“Nothing, ‘cause I am not helping you.”

“But you are my best bud.”

“Not doing it,” repeated Taylor

Nothing more was said and they left the building into the bright sunlight. There were not many students hanging around. They seemed to disappear as quickly as they hit the street.

Gotta split – football practice” said Jackson and jumped onto a bike he rode when the weather was good.

Taylor, a bit of a dreamer, rested against the building, watching people stroll out the door next to him.  He knew the popular ones by name. They were always running for one thing or another and the girls giggled a lot. The boys were ‘cool,’ and hung out in clicks just the same as the girls.

He chuckled silently wondering how many of these turds would end up being politicians or sluts.

“Do you need a lift someplace, Taylor?” – It was Mr. Harmon.

 “Naw, I was just thinking about your assignment.”

“What’s to think about; it isn’t due until a week from today? You won’t have any problem you are creative – just write about it.”

“Are these essays confidential? One never knows what some ‘dip stick’ is going to write about.”

“Are you asking for yourself?” asked John Harmon

“Not necessarily…..okay, yes, I am asking for myself,” confessed Taylor.

“Anything you write stays in this class,” I am the only person to see It.” said Mr. Harmon flashing a wide smile and a wink, before walking away.

“OMG thought Taylor. His teeth are beautiful and Mr. Harmon winked at me. . This may sound like nothing, but to Taylor it felt like a big deal.

John Harmon kept to himself and Taylor did not know if he was married, engaged, or visiting from the planet Jupiter. He only knew he was completely perfect.

John Harmon was twenty-nine years old and Taylor was eighteen believing he was smarter than other teenagers were at eighteen. He was gay, and suppressed it well allowing his classmates to spew their meanness elsewhere.  True, things were changing and gay was becoming cool, but seldom without a smirk or a laugh.

Taylor was not in any closet, but not in your face either. He was just a kid who thought he knew it all. Time would take care of that, just ask older gay men.

The following day in class, Mr. Harmon talked about the assignment.

“I neglected to mention yesterday that anything you write for this assignment stays confidential; so pour out your thoughts and create with feeling, fun, or just plain gusto.  I do not expect to see, or want to read, anything criminal, dark or illegal. We will leave those topics for the Civil Law Class”

“Any questions?” continued Mr. Harmon

“How ‘bout sex? Is that off limits too?” asked Trudy who looked like her name indicated.

“Clean sex is ok, (no porn) just write,” Said Mr. Harmon holding back a grin.” It will be our little secret.”

“I’m not asking for me. I was asking for Butch Simmel, who is too embarrassed to ask,” said Trudy. Butch was terribly overweight and still a virgin at eighteen.

While erasing the black board, Taylor watched Harmon’s fierce sculptured body.  He knew what he wanted to write about and determined to make memories.

Part 2

Taylor sat at his computer desk using the magic of word processing; he felt very much at home and comfortable writing documents.

Words – Words. Okay, here goes,” thought Taylor and began writing.

“Time slips away. It is good being young and it sucks being old. We get ourselves into a relationship and it is cool. However, if I looked as good as you look, I would fuck myself” 

“Oh lord, that is terrible. I can’t say that and hit ‘delete’

His cell beside him on the desk rang. It was Jackson

Hey Brother. 

Goin to the lake for a party; the parents are away and the camp has out a welcome sign,’ no booze just Pepsi, Coke, chips and pussy.

Jk

Taylor clutched his phone shaking his head. Jackson, his best friend, knew he was gay, but ignored it completely. As far as Jackson was concerned, everybody wanted pussy. No way, could he be that dumb. Taylor replied immediately.         

Hey, Bro “Gotta pass on the lake. I cannot go. I am into fucking dudes this week”

Ty

“Okay cool,” said Jackson….Later

“Simple fuck,” thought Taylor setting his phone back down.

Taylor put his laptop in sleep mode and stretched out on the bed. He was home alone. He closed his eyes and of all things to think about, it was John Harmon erasing the blackboard and moving his butt. Now this was cool, gulp.

He was developing an enormous crush on this teacher. All he could think about was touching and kissing him. He knew it would never happen but he spent many hours in solitude getting hard and dreaming of having sex with him. He had plenty of sticky tissues to prove it. For sure, he kept pumping out the cum.

He was in a state of relaxation with his dick in his hand. He never gave himself enough credit for being a gay stud. He could have most anything he wanted. There were girls who could see he was a sex dog. However, he never tried to be straight or denied being gay. Straight would have meant beach parties, dances and girls.

The thought of running his dick across Mr. Harmon’s well-defined butt ran wildly through his mind. Suddenly gobs of sticky cream flowed over his hand.  He knew what he wanted. You cannot always have what you want. That is the painful part,

Taylor returned to his computer to start writing again.  He quickly discovered that connecting thoughts in order to be creative was different from everyday conversation. It was more like rambling.  He didn’t think about it, instead he let the words flow as quickly and disorganized as possible moving his fingers over the keyboard.

He wrote:

The class has left and I am alone with a teacher. I feel warm in sensual places on my body. The room is colorful, but color is unimportant to me; I must be a geek. How I wished the door was locked.

By having charisma, one does not have to screw to get respect. It is people who count. I have no idea where that thought came from. I long for an older person, beautifully mature and educated. How does one apologize for wanting something like that? I don’t think you do,” he wrote...

There comes a time when everybody thinks they are right; I know I am correct, so do not fuck with me. You’re gonna love today’s confession that is surprisingly painless. It comes from a gay student putting private thoughts on paper.

Some attractions are like a disease and no amount of medication can cure it; only time and that is questionable. Yes, it is worth repeating, “It is people who count”

The shades are drawn. The teacher is leaning on his desk and pressed against me.  Our eyes meet and the invisible vibration of our hearts are leading us down a path panting, touching and kissing. I think my heart is about to jump out of my chest.

“What do you want from me, Taylor; he breathes in my ear,”

“I have no agenda, but getting my lips around this could be a real possibility, I say nervously brushing my hand across the front of his bulging pants. Cock is not to be looked at, it is to be used,” I tell him.

“I don’t decide anything.  I wait for it to happen.” The teacher replies

“That is selfish. I am so close to you and yet so far away.”

“I know – I am very selfish, but not against sharing a load with you,” He admits.

We kiss.  Oh shit – I am dying here; how can anyone be so lucky. I am beside myself going from zero to hero with just one kiss.

I courageously put my arms around his neck in the solitude of an empty classroom. We melt into a common mind set. Our bodies are hard and lust is taking over. Yes, it is time to lighten some loads, one zipper at a time.

Taylor stopped writing and scratched his ear.

Mr. Harmon will know I am talking about him. What a concept. It is not easy being polite and horny at the same time. He started to hit delete again, but stopped.

He took a swig of water from a bottle that had become room temperature warm. His dick was hard as usual and his mind in freefall. Precum was oozing once more and sticking to his underwear. He ignored it and only thought about “words”

Maybe I should write about a trip to a candy shop and licking a lollypop. That sounds gay. Dumb as hell – but gay.

NO. That would not be good. Geezus, get a grip dumb ass – a LOLLYOP!

Humm, I gotta think of something and keep the shock to a minimum.

He didn’t do that however; he handed in what he had written. Now all he had to do was to wait until the butter hit the fan.

“This is it,” thought Taylor “I’m just not like everybody else.”

Part 3

The assignments were finally completed and left on Mr. Harmon’s desk.

“What did you write about?” asked Jackson placing his paper on top of the pile.

“Football,” said Taylor

“You don’t play football”

“Oh, that’s right. I am not on the football team.”

“Are you ok? Jackson asked “You’re kinda squirrely”

“Oh sure, I am just a little nervous, because I wrote some things that were gay.”

“He said to choose our own topic,” added Jackson, screw it.

Taylor felt better because Jackson made sense; and making sense was not one of his strong points.

By the following day, Mr. Harmon had read all of them, but commented on nothing. It was water over the dam and only a writing exercise. There were four more weeks of school and the class spent time reviewing for the final exam.

There was no difference in Mr. Harmon’s attitude, so Taylor realized what he wrote meant nothing to him and he was home safe. Mr. Harmon never returned the assignments, but the entire class got an A. 

Just as the bell was about to ring; he said, “Taylor, could you stay a moment, I want to go over something with you?”

“Sure” came a nervous reply

The room emptied out quickly just as always, leaving Harmon and Taylor alone standing by the door. John closed and locked it.

Taylor pretended not to notice and staying “cool” was the smartest thing he could do.

“Taylor, Taylor, Taylor – come here,” said John Harmon wiggling his middle finger. He was leaning against his desk just as Taylor wrote about. He was smiling and relaxed. If, this was ‘deja vu,’ Taylor did not think he could handle it.

Ahh, whose kidding here; of course he could handle it.” He had lived this moment many times over and over inside his head, but this felt different.

“So you are pressed up against me and our eyes meet? Is that how you wrote it?”

“I don’t remember”

“I don’t think you would forget something like that,” he said

John leaned against him and they stared at one another. He took Taylors hand and rubbed it across his crotch. John’s dick was swollen and sooo impressive to touch.

“Do you remember writing that?”

“Yeahh,” he admitted. His voice was shaky, “that is what I wrote.”

Taylor tried to kiss him and got pushed away.

“Nope, we are not going there. Okay, that’s it. Get out.  You understand my point. For Christ sake, you are my student. Get the fuck out and he unlocked the door.

Taylor left quickly walking down the hall mingling with kids and laughing as if nothing bothered him. He was not crushed, like a little girl. - He was angry. 

“Hey, said Jackson, what did Harmon want? You weren’t in there very long.”

“Nothing – he’s a jerk”

“Oh yeah,” was all Jackson said.

When he got home, he checked the computer for a faculty list that he composed and saved under documents.

There it was – John W Harmon, 52 Market Street, apt. 2

“Hey mom, Taylor yells out from his bedroom. I am borrowing the car to run back to school before it is locked. I forgot some material for physics class”

“Okay, sweetie”

A few minutes later, he parked in front of 52 Market Street. Taylor was not a stalker, by any means, but he had something to say before he lost his nerve.

John answered the door.  He was wearing shorts with a white tee shirt. His hair was still moist from showering. He had shaved his beard closer and looked like Bradley Cooper.

“Taylor melted –just fuckin melted. All the anger he had built up inside vanished and he felt like crying. John’s face was awesome with a trimmed short beard.

“What are you doing here?” John said to him

 “I want to apologize.”

“Accepted – now what are you apologizing for?” He asked

“Can I come in? It’s a little difficult standing out here?”

“Come in,” John said stepping back holding on to the door.

“I don’t want you to think I am a silly faggot because I am not. I am a masculine gay kid with a crush and acted foolishly about how I felt.”

“Foolishly?” said John

“That’s right. I wrote how I felt trying to be clever and creative. I knew you would see right through it and I planned it that way. Don’t you like me a little bit?”

“Sure Taylor, I like you a lot, but I am your teacher and you are my student. Stuff like this can’t happen; I have my position to consider. I am 29 years old and besides, I am too old for you.”

“I am not trouble and you are not too old for me. I am very smart John, don’t worry I know what I am doing,” he said rather harshly

This was his second mistake. Taylor was showing anger like a spoiled teenager by not getting what he wanted and it was obvious.

“You’re a child,” grow up said John Harmon.

“You don’t know everything.” Taylor screamed at him

John gave him a doleful look. Taylor realized it was mistake number three.

Taylor lowered his head on to John’s shoulder feeling safe but hurt and embarrassed. “Yee god, what is wrong with me? I keep ‘fucking up” Taylor said’ “I thought I was the smart one.”

John lifted his face to his and when their eyes met this time, it was Kismet.  They were kissing. The kiss turned into passionate face hunger devouring deep and meaningful. John fondled him and Taylor thought – “this is it.” but wrong again.

He unzipped John’s shorts but got stopped.  “Not yet, Taylor, not yet.”

“When? Taylor asked almost begging.”

“Next month, when you are no longer my student, we can go to bed together if you still want that,” he said placing Taylor’s hand inside his shorts being truthful.

Taylor could feel John’s cock hard as stone. It was smooth like velvet with warm ripples of flesh giving it girth. That thing was big. He would have sacrificed his high school diploma, just to get on his knees for one hungry lick.

“You have to go,” John said. “This has gone on long enough. Please don’t come here. The next time will be after graduation.

John never realized that Taylor had ejaculated without touching himself. He came when they were kissing - whew.  Try doing that, if you think you are hot.

Taylor was delirious, and went home having so much to think about. The weeks sailed by easier than imagined. Taylor knew what was waiting for him and struggled keeping his hands off his dick trying to save as much sticky as he could. He cheated several times; yet wanted to be as perfect as possible. He was a stud.

After graduation, John said to him, “This is it Taylor – we both win; now I can love what I always wanted to have with me” - You.

Part 4

Taylor liked school, although he complained about too much homework. He was at a balancing point in his life that would have confused most young men, but not him. He was decisive and knew what he wanted to do after graduation. He was intelligent enough to know the difference between securing a career and a hot boyfriend.  This is where the road crosses and one has to know which road to take.

Edward Brennan, Taylor’s dad, also known as “Smiling Ed,” was often on local TV promoting new and used, Subaru vehicles. The business he inherited, from his father.

Ed’s objective, was always to have his son Taylor, learn the business thus keeping it in the family. However, Taylor did not see it that way. He wanted to go to college like everybody else; however, in recent times, his thinking changed.

Ed, and his son Taylor, were remarkable men. Taylor looked so much like his dad they could pass for brothers. Ed was forty-one and looked like a college student. It was as if the clock stood still, over the past 10 years.

Although, Taylor was eighteen, he could pass for a man in his early twenties.  Being an only child, he spoiled himself by having a protective mother and a dad who was his friend. 

He could drive an automobile, had a license, but no car. A car would have to wait until he graduated. That was his father’s decision and Taylor honored him by never asking for anything.

Once he finished High School, his dad gave him an all-wheel drive Subaru, right from the showroom floor. The car was a beauty - silver and grey, with genuine black leather upholstered seats.

“There sweetheart,” said his mom, now you don’t have to borrow my car, to go see your boyfriend.

Taylor was gay since he was a small boy. Now, he was a big boy. Having a gay son was a reality and no secret.

“You knew,?” said Taylor

“Of course, we knew; parents always know. I hope this is only a crush; he is older than you,” she said.

“It is only a number, mom. We are talking about people here,” Taylor mumbled for a reply.

John, was one of the teachers they met at graduation. Nothing was mentioned concerning Taylor and none the wiser.

John was astonished by how much Taylor resembled his father. They were both handsome young men and the aura surrounding them standing side by side, was colossal.

“I like him,” said Ginny, Taylor’s mom.

“Who?”

“Taylor’s boyfriend, John,”  she commented.

“He is a better hook up, than some trouble maker,” said Ed, agreeing with his wife. 

“Please Ed, – not a hookup.”

“Oh yes, that’s a slip, – sorry.”

“Why the sudden change of heart about not wanting college?” asked his dad. “Oh, is it the teacher?”

“No, of course not. He thrives on education. He expects me to earn all sorts of degrees.”

“Is that what he told you?”

“No, I made it up, – but, I know that’s what he would say. I am not going to talk about schooling with him. I want to be in the car business with you. That is something you always wanted for me, - Right?” said Taylor. “Even after college, I would end up in the family business anyway, so why go?” he concluded.

“Don’t tell me you are turning down college,” said his dad, sipping his morning coffee.

“I am.”

“Okay, what’s up?”

“I want to be, “Smiling Ed Junior.”

“Your name is Taylor, - not Ed.”

“I’ll change it for television.”

“He has a good idea here,” piped in his mother, agreeing with Taylor. “I can see it now,  my two handsome men,  Smiling Ed Sr., / Smiling Ed Jr., together on television, selling cars. Isn’t charisma what people call HOT?” she concluded.

“Baloney with charisma; you know darn well, we are a couple of hottie’s,” exclaimed Ed laughing and putting his arm around his son.

There was never a truer statement. They looked so much alike having terrific bodies, and facial expressions. Taylor’s package protruded more than his dad’s did; so, he said something shocking.

“Dad, you should wear short boxers or go commando. Your cock will fill out those pants and the camera will catch a bulge for the viewing audience.”

“What! - We are selling Subaru’s, not bulges,” replied his dad.

Taylor was not sure, if his dad was agreeing or angry, so he sought to tread easy.

“It’s marketing dad – just marketing,” exclaimed Taylor with that winning smile and a mouth full of gorgeous teeth. The little fucker never failed to be charming.

“Is that how you portray yourself with your bulge, around your teacher?”

“I got him, didn’t I,?” replied Taylor.

“It wouldn’t be difficult looking at you, for a gay man to be curious. John is gay, - Right?”

“Yes, – however, John is a much bigger hunk  than me. He avoided me and I worked getting him to notice that I was in the room, even harder to like me.”

“Of course,” said his dad, who understood how gay men worked their magic. His mom was in the bedroom making beds and missed the conversation completely.  It’s a good thing too.

“Monday, I’ll get you on payroll; you can share my office; BUT, you will start by selling cars.  And…if you’re a ‘Good Boy,’ you can have your own office eventually,” said his dad, joking with him.

“Stop, with the ‘boy’ talk.”

“Of course, I am just being silly.”

“Yeah, I know,” Taylor replied, hugging his dad as a ‘thank you’ jester.

Taylor ached to see John again, however stopping by uninvited, seemed like a bad idea. He was frustrated, and the feeling he had for him, was incredibly deep.

Taylor dressed putting on expensive jeans that covered his body like a second skin. The material formed a covering over the globes of a sweet melon rear, with material resting in the crack of his butt.

His front was more impressive and delicious for the eyes of a gay man to accept without flutters. His package was just that, – a package of sausage flesh and plum round balls, pretty much describes it.

He was going to his car when he received a text from John.

“Ohh, thank you Jesus,” he said aloud, seeing who it was from.

Hi Taylor,

“Feel like hanging out?”

John

*******

Taylor replied immediately…

Four weeks’ with that feeling – I am on my way.

His phone went back into his pocket and his butt in the driver’s seat of his new Subaru.

It seemed like only minutes and Taylor was standing by John’s apartment door. Things were different now, in the most wonderful way imaginable. John was waiting for him.

John grasped Taylor pulling him into the room. He slammed and locked the door. Sex was in the air and his desperation for Taylor was increasing every second. They were not embarrassed in the least, about how they used each other.

They were pawing, kissing and pushing like a Roman orgy. It was impossible to know who was the most aggressive. It was a contest of love making with lust, licking and hunger. Time meant nothing, and they were in the bedroom, unaware of how they even got there.

“Fuck,” said John, “this is too crazy for words. Look what you have done to me? I am hopelessly in love with you and just fucking hopeless. How did this ever happen?  I want you Taylor – I need you,” continued John rambling and so unlike him.

“I want to focus on what makes you happy,” he said, working feverishly getting clothes off Taylor’s well-defined body.

Taylor tried speaking. “You are already doing what makes me happy,” as John nibbled, planting an enormous kiss on his boyish face.

John tore at Taylor’s pants hypnotized by his crotch and butt. His face was between his legs in seconds, saying things he had never said before, to anyone.

“You are mine,” whispered John getting his mouth around Taylor’s dick. “You got that, you’re mine?” He certainly had changed a lot.

Taylor was every bit as wicked, if not hungrier, than his precious lover was. “The very first time I looked at you, – I knew,” he whispered hardly able to talk.

“What did you know?”- asked John, kissing him without stopping.

“I needed to be a part of you, and my feelings couldn’t be left unattended.  Evenings, I jerked off thinking of you inside me, and the sex we had in my mind, was real. Oh yeah, I knew.”

“Give me your crotch,” Taylor grunted getting John’s legs apart and his face in the forbidden zone.  I’ll show you how to take the stress out of everyday living.”

“Go ahead and show me. I am a team player with excellent benefit, who loves you.”

“I can’t imagine being this happy. I’ll deal with the shock later,” Taylor admitted. He placed his mouth around John’s cock thinking nothing else in the world mattered.

It was a common sport, for the average gay couple, but not common, and not a sport, for Taylor.  Mother Nature had been very kind to him, blessed with good looks, and a good heart.

He was thinking all the time; he had John’s dick in his mouth. Suddenly he began to giggle.”

“What’s so funny,” inquired John who was about to pop?”

“I just remembered, what you said to me a few months ago.”

“Really? Nice time to be thinking – okay, what did I say?” he asked.

“You said, - “Call me back, when you graduate.”

“I love you, but you were my student. I said that, as not to lose you. I wanted to keep hope alive,” admitted John.

He rubbed his cock across Taylor’s cheek and back into his mouth. It didn’t take long before John, holding his head, jetted several nights of wet dreams, between his lips. Nobody, on the planet could have been happier at that very moment.

Resting, in the afterglow of love and lust, they contemplated a lifetime of happiness together. They remained on the bed talking, and Taylor wanted to fuck.

John backed into Taylor’s crotch. He gave Taylor a stiff dick, so many times in class. Here he was, in a place he believed was never possible.

“Do you love me?” John asked.

“Oh God, don’t ask something so ridiculous. I love you beyond my understanding of what I am even doing. I don’t have to understand it – I just have to do it.”

“Put it in me,” whimpered John.

“Really, - I can fuck you?  I don’t know why I am asking that. I’m doing it anyway.”

“This is a start. I plan on making you feel good and more important, happy,” explained John. 

“I won’t be so neat the next time. I am a hungry cougar.” admitted Taylor, bragging about how hot he could be in bed, once he let loose.

“Fortunately, I am an irresistible teacher. There is a lot on this body for you to play with.”

“Cool, we can tell our grandkids about how I fell in love and seduced my teacher.”

“Our grandkids – what grandkids?” said John barely audible.

“We’ll adopt” replied Taylor.

“That’s the dumbest thing I’ve heard and I have been up since 5:00 am.”

“Sweet, - I love you too,” whispered Taylor, sliding inside John’s warm body.

“Oh Gaud, I just got canonized, with that tool of the week,” screamed John, pretending to be uncomfortable.

“Should I stop?”

“I’m only kidding, but not by much,” he admitted.

********

Part 5

“You are a remarkable person and having you in my class was difficult for me.” John told Taylor, as he came from the bathroom, after a hot soapy shower.

“How so – why, would it be difficult for you?”

“I knew you were looking at me like a slice of watermelon; I was picturing you naked sitting in front of me,” confessed John.

“You love me, huh?”

“Yes, Taylor, I love you, now go wash your ass, and hit the shower.”

“I’ll never be anything more than what I am.” He told John.

John laughed pulling him off the bed. He slapped him on the ass and kissed his cheek in the scuffle. “Just be yourself, nobody can take that away from you.”

By the time Taylor showered and came back into the room, John was dressed, and lying on top of the bed like a Versace model.

“Fuck John, – you are one good looking stud. How ‘bout taking those pants back off?”

“How about putting your pants back on? Don’t be greedy.”

“Okay, I can do that. I would rather go for another round, but – ‘yeah,’ I can do that,” Taylor said, stepping into his underwear.

Taylor’s phone rang. He grabbed it from his pants pocket.

“Hi mom, what’s up?”

“Um, are you sure? I mean, maybe some other time, would be better.”

“Okay.”

Taylor still holding on to his phone asked John a question.

“My folks are cooking out in the back yard around 6:00 pm. They asked if you would like to join us for steak that my dad will be tossing on the grill.”

“Do you want me to?” John asked, putting his arms around Taylor from behind and kissing his neck.

“Yeah, it might be cool. My folks are great and they know I am gay. I talk about you all the time, but tell them nothing, except praise for how terrific you are.”

“You magnificent little liar; they want to see us together; that is what they really want.” Commented John, not the least bit disturbed by the invitation.

“Sure, tell her, I would like that very much.”

“Okay mom, throw another potato in the roaster – he’s coming,” said Taylor, pleased as punch.

Taylor stayed with John all afternoon on the sofa, with his head in John’s lap. The TV was on, but they were not watching it.

John ran his fingers through Taylor’s hair even though cut short. He loved touching him and Taylor sucked John’s finger like a baby.

As much as John tried to remain calm, his dick had other ideas. It was the finger sucking that caused him to lower his pants, giving Taylor a much better toy to play with.

So, there they were, in awe of each other, and becoming more involved and emotionally paralyzed with every touch.

Taylor, lying on his stomach stretched out on the sofa, with his head in John’s crotch, was plain yet fancy. The fabric of his jeans expanded across the cheeks of his butt, looked like a statue molded in clay.

John could no longer keep his paws to himself. He began squeezing the cheeks of Taylor’s ass through the denim of his jeans. 

Taylor curled up closer to John and they wrapped themselves together in a web of tangled arms and warm flesh.

“You want to know something? This is an unforgettable moment,” said Taylor quietly sighing.

In a soft quiet voice, John replied. “From this moment on Taylor Brennan, I am yours, and you are mine.” They shared the firmest hug possible for any two men.

They had dinner that evening in an enclosed yard, surrounded by perennial gardens. His mom supplied good food, drink and a loving environment.

Taylor’s mom, Ginny, adored John and told her friends that she had two remarkable sons.

John, fascinated by Taylor’s dad, saw a strikingly mature version of Taylor. It included the bulge, body, smile and everything a gay man would notice. Taylor’s dad, Edward Brennan, was 41 years old, how sweet it is…

Taylor would often joke with John when speaking about his dad.

“You only get one of us, and it’s me.” Then, he would place John’s hand on the bump in his pants, and everything was right with the world. It sounds erotic and to a point, it was erotic. However, it was love coming from deep within, that was sacred to them.

As time melted away, John continued to teach creative writing. Nobody ever came close to having Taylor’s magnetism - and, there were good-looking young men, passing through John’s classroom.

He often remarked that Mother Nature worked her magic, just when the time was right. She gave him Taylor.

By now, everybody knew of John and Taylor’s romantic connection and when asked about it, John had the perfect answer.

“I teach creative writing. You can write about it, or you can live it.”

End

Posted: 10/01/2021