LGBT, Gay, Writing, Poetry, Journal, Snark

"For Love of Comic Books and Chris" 

"Ah, shit!" I yelled as I bolted around the counter. 

Some kid had just lifted a case of baseball cards from the counter where
the delivery guy had set it an hour before. The little creep snagged it 
and ran up the steps to the street. I just made out his sneakers 
hitting the top step at full speed as I got to the door. A customer was 
right on my heels as I pounded up the steps. We went two different 
directions but the kid was out of sight by the time I hit the corner of 
the street. 

This was a total disaster. I got my ass reamed for the theft.
Ironically, I wasn't the one that received the order. The owner's 
mother had. But he wasn't about to take her on over it. I just gritted 
my teeth. I hadn't known what the box was or I would have put it in the 
back. The customer that had tried to help came back with me and even 
tried to explain that it wasn't my fault. Nice guy. I was too upset 
over the situation to really notice much about him. 

A week passed and he came back for some comic books. This time I
noticed. Pale blond straight hair that fell over his ice blue eyes. 
About my height, six feet or so. Skin so pale it practically glowed. 
Black jeans and a black windbreaker with a black t-shirt and black 
sneakers. If I didn't know better, I would think he liked black. He 
specifically sought me out to help him find the issues he was looking 

"My name's Chris," he introduced himself. 

I found myself lost in his eyes as he looked directly into mine with a
lop-sided smile. They were a blue that just barely made it past gray. 
In fact, the edges were that icy blue but the striations that run 
toward the pupil were gray. And somehow they were so deep. It jerked my 
attention back to finding what he asked for. Once I had them all, I 
handed them over clumsily. His hands were cool to the touch. I 
shivered. This was unreal. No one had ever caused me this much 
klutziness just standing there. 

"Thanks..." he paused, waiting. 

"Lael. My name is Lael. No problem, glad to help," I was nearly
stammering in an unexpected panic. 

"Well, thanks. Sorry I couldn't help you catch that punk last week." 

"No, thank you for trying. No one else budged," anger tinged my voice. 

"See you around," Chris said as he headed toward the front to pay for
his books. My eyes found themselves attached to his retreating ass as 
he went. Skinny, like me, but the jeans were tight enough to give it a 
shape. I was bemused, lost in wondering just what was happening. 

Don't get me wrong, I was no virgin. I knew perfectly well that I
thought he was hot and sexy. I knew what I wanted, so this wasn't about 
suppressed longings for guys or some shit like that. Nothing suppressed 
about it. I just felt different for some reason. This was beyond just 
wanting to strip off the layers of black and see if the rest of him was 
as pale. I wanted to know more about him. That is about when I gave 
myself a mental slap upside the head. Hell, I didn't even know yet if 
he was into men. But something was telling he was. 

I found myself thinking about him that night as I zoned out in front of
the TV. Whatever my roommate Melinda was watching didn't register at 
all in my brain. Chris is what I was focused on internally. His 
straight, thin nose. How his hair hit the back of his neck. The sound 
of his voice. That lop-sided smile that still managed to show some 
teeth without it warping his face. The funny thing was, it wasn't lust. 
I wasn't in erotic mode at all. I was curious about him. He was stuck 
in my head. I finally dragged my mind off of him, firmly, and read for 
a while. 

Chris began showing up once a week to check on new books coming in. He
collected a wide range of titles, DC, Marvel and independents. Good 
books, most of which I at least knew the current storylines for, if not 
back-stories. We'd chat about them and defend our positions when the 
odd disagreement would pop up. Soon, he would make sure I was the only 
one he would get to help him. I got told a couple of times that he had 
come in but left immediately when I wasn't there. Curiouser and 

This went on for a couple of months. No real details were exchanged
outside of the comic book universes we both enjoyed. But all of this 
time I was becoming more and more intrigued by him. He always made sure 
to keep eye contact with me when we talked. His whole attention was 
directed at me. Trust me, that kind of focus is very disconcerting. I 
don't easily blush, but I could feel the potential just below the skin. 
My entire body felt heated to near frying when he watched me that way. 
And his hands always managed to brush mine when I would give him his 
books. Not in an obvious flirting way though. If it wasn't purely 
accidental, it was at least subconscious on his part. I was desperately 
doing my damnedest to not read things into it. I failed more often than 
not. I began looking forward to seeing him. 

I finally decided enough was enough. The next time Chris came into the
shop, I led him to a distant corner away from everyone. It was all I 
could do to keep my stomach from throwing a revolt that would embarrass 
me to the end of my days. I may have even started sweating, but I was 
not going to chicken out. 

"Do you want to come over to my house tonight and talk? My roommate is
out." I finally said without tripping over my numb tongue. 

"Sure. Sounds good. What time?" Chris said with his crooked smile. 

"I am off in about 2 hours, so how about after?" I was feeling almost
ready for my insides to heave and be outside. 

"Cool. I'll just hang around until then. I don't have any other plans
tonight," his smile actually evened out as he spoke. My eyes felt glued 
to his reddish lips. 

"That's fine by me. I have to get a shipment sorted and on the shelves.
And set aside the regular's stuff. Ah hell, that you includes you." I 
felt a total fool. 

"Another perfectly good reason to hang around," he grinned at me. 

I know I blushed then. The flames on my cheeks could be nothing else. I
hurried off to get my shit done. He went to browsing the shelves and 
bins, stopping to read now and then. I was very aware of him no matter 
where either of us was. That nervous flutter in my gut stayed with me 
too. It puzzled the hell out of me. But it was also kind of neat at the 
same time. It was something completely new for me. 

Those two hours sped by and crawled. I got my assignments finished and
could call it a day without any problem. I said bye and Chris came to 
the counter to pay for his stuff. I waited for him up at the street. He 
came up the stairs, a dim ghost clothed in gray this time instead of 
black. I smiled and we started walking up University Avenue toward my 
apartment down about five blocks. We didn't chat as we walked but the 
silence didn't seem awkward either. Just walking with a destination is 

I fumbled the keys in the lock and finally got the door open before I
dropped the stupid keys. Swinging the door open, I held the screen so 
he could go in. This put us in my living room. This was an old building 
and the living room was humungous. Two full couches fit and still left 
a lot of open space. The dining room was small and so was the kitchen. 
A hall door shut off the bathroom and two bedrooms from the living 

He set his bag on the coffee table and sat down. I sat on the couch
across from him. Now came that eternal moment of silence where neither 
of us really knew what to say. At least he didn't. I could see 
confusion in his eyes as we both struggled to find something to say. I 
decided to just be blunt. Hey, all he could say was that I was mistaken 
and fuck off. 

"Are you into guys, Chris?" Ok, I was blunt as a pickax to the skull.
Too late now. 

What I wasn't prepared for was the dumbfounded pure panic on his face.
If I thought he was pale before, he redefined the term and the color 
right then. His eyes were wide and I could tell he was shocked witless. 
This was not at all the reaction I expected. Maybe a yes or maybe a no 
or even a hell no. But this total brain freeze wasn't on the list. 

"How did you know?" he whispered. Definitely panic. 

"Um, I can't explain. Just a feeling," I answered carefully. I had a
suspicion that my answers were going to be really important for both of 

"I thought I hid it better than that," Chris was looking almost ready to
cry. This was not what I had intended. Aw, shit! 

"Let's just say I am good at seeing things. That I get a feel for
people, even when they armor themselves. I don't think it is anything 
obvious. I just knew," I explained 

It must have made sense to him because I could see him pulling himself
back together again. The panic was slowly leaving and in its place was 
a profound relief. I could almost figure out his actual thoughts as the 
expressions crossed his face. Finally, someone knew. I would only find 
out months later that his mother and stepfather were fundamentalist 
Christians. It explained his need to hide his attractions and bury any 
feelings from outside detection. And why my being so direct had thrown 
him into panic. If I figured it out, whom else could? 

It wasn't a denial of who and what he was. He accepted that part of
himself. This was solely about repercussions with family if he was 
found out. He had younger brothers and sisters that he loved and still 
wanted in his life. If his parents found out, he was certain that he 
would be cut off and thrown out. That part turned out to be true a year 
later. But it was a while before I got all of this out of him. That 
night we just talked and got to know each other better. I liked him. 
And he liked me. 

We started hanging out almost every night after I got off work. We would
prowl around the neighborhood on long walks, talking, sharing. Our 
spiritual views were similar though not exactly the same. Needless to 
say, he was neither fundamentalist nor Christian. Neither was I. We 
scaled Mount Rubidoux one night as we continued learning about each 
other. Mount is an overstatement, considering it is a very rocky hill 
at best. Dear Riverside has its pretentious pompousness. 

There came a night when we actually went a direction that we both
probably saw coming. It was unplanned, but we both went with it without 
any hesitation when it arrived. Innocent spontaneity and laughter 
showed us the way. It all came down to a wrestling match on my bed. 

I don't recall exactly what prompted it, but I am pretty sure one of us
was wisecracking and the other responded with a wrestling hold. 
Ordinarily, that is just fun and possibly leads to something extra when 
two guys like each other. What pushed this into a different realm was a 
hedonistic purchase I had made the month before. A royal blue satin 
comforter for my queen sized bed. I loved the texture against my skin. 

Anyway, we started wrestling, neither willing to submit to the other.
Oomph! We both land on the floor with dual thuds. We start giggling 
like two five-year-olds. We scramble back up and continue wrestling. 
Thud, thud! Down we go again. Being a somewhat poor twenty-year-old, I 
had the box-spring and mattress on the floor instead of a bed frame. 
So, it wasn't really that far to the carpet. But with us trying so hard 
to get the upper hand, we kept sliding right off the end. Thud, thud! 
Over and over, giggling all the while, hands all over each other. And 
then hands very purposefully placed with gentle squeezes. Thud, thud! 

Finally, Melinda had enough. She pounded on her bedroom wall and yelled
at us to either knock it off or take it to the living room so she could 
sleep. She had to work the next day and our racket was keeping her 
awake. I hollered our apologies in between giggles. I put a finger to 
Chris' lips to quiet him down. He promptly sucked my fingertip into his 
mouth. I gasped and pulled back as he grinned at me. Things were going 
a definite direction from this point on. And I was more than ready. So 
was he. 

I grabbed the bedspread with one hand and Chris with the other. He
opened my bedroom door and then the hall door. I dragged us through and 
he shut the hall door. Both of us were grinning now. I could see a 
shine to his eyes, so clear and bright. I imagine mine were the same. I 
spread out the bedspread on the living room floor in the biggest open 
area next to the dining room. He tackled me but made sure I had a soft 
landing. Again we wrestled. My flexibility versus his innate strength. 
I ended up sitting on his chest with his arms pinned by my knees. My 
arms were bent back holding down his knees. 

He bucked and I slid. Now my crotch was squarely in front of his face. I
changed tactics and went for his sides. He gasped and then laughed as I 
tickled him. Then he managed to throw me sideways. I hit the floor on 
my side with him swarming over me, pulling off my shirt. I returned the 
favor. Again we came together, grasping for holds on sweaty skin. A lot 
of sliding around the bedspread and on each other's skin happened. Both 
of us were plenty hard by then. Made for convenient handles as we 

I got his Dockers off without too much of a fight; popping the button
and then yanking them clean off. I let go as they flung out at the end 
of my arm and they went flying onto the dining room table. Now he was 
only in white jockeys and white socks. Feeling a need to even the odds, 
Chris rose up and squashed me flat to the satin. He got my jeans open 
with his teeth and pulled the zipper down the same way. He kept a hand 
flat on my stomach the whole time. I didn't resist since I was out of 
breath and feeling the burning heat of his palm against my skin. 

He pulled my jeans off and they too landed on the table behind us. Then
he peeled off my socks. I curled around to attack his feet, removing 
his. He landed on top of me, bear hugging me as I coiled around his 
torso. Our breath was coming in short gasps that blew against each 
other's skin. The heat between us was unlike anything I had experienced 
before. Hands roamed now, feeling skin and muscles, elbows and knees. 
The tone was turning toward sensual instead of raw power play. 

We turned each other loose and sat breathing heavily, staring into each
other's eyes. I leaned forward and our lips met, lightly. His eyes 
stared back into mine as he pushed his lips to mine more firmly. He 
opened his mouth and his tongue pushed against me. I let him in. We 
tongue wrestled for a bit, exploring. My hands trailed against his 
chest downward over his stomach and to the elastic band of his 
underwear. The tips of my nails caught then pulled down and away. His 
hard shaft pushed free then. I broke the kiss to look down at the 
trophy of our wrestling bout. 

I pushed him gently flat on his back as I pulled his underwear from his
legs. Now I finally got to see all of him. That question I had 
originally about if he was pale all over was finally answered. Yup, he 
was. But his shaft was pink, flushed with lots of trapped blood. The 
tip was red, engorged. And it curved upward toward his left. Not 
extreme, but definitely something of a scimitar shape. I let my hand 
trace its outline and it twitched at my touch. I glanced up and found 
his eyes closed and that crooked smile in place. I had never seen 
anyone with a curve like that before. It nestled in a patch of dark 
blond hair. His nuts were smooth with faint traces of hair. They were 
pretty large and hanging down between his spread legs. That made sense, 
since we were both burning hot from our wrestling moments before. 

It was like a daydream come alive. I just sat looking at him. Concave
stomach that barely rose and fell with his breath. I tickled his ribs 
with a fingertip, just glorying in the feel of his skin. He twitched 
with that little number but kept his eyes closed. Now a new contest 
started. Let's see if I can get his eyes open. My hands wandered freely 
although I purposely left one particular area neglected and nearly 
untouched. I ghosted my hands over every muscle I could reach. I could 
make out the tiny lines of him clenching those peepers of his closed. 
He knew the game, it was on. 

Next I tried something else. Since hands didn't get much reaction, maybe
a bit of tongue would. I began tracing swirling wavering lines up and 
down his body with the tip of my tongue. He shivered but retained 
control. I got especially creative on his suddenly firm nipples. Those 
twin buttons had definitely risen out of their camouflage to let me 
know that he was reacting despite his iron control over his expression. 
That smile stayed right where he put it so far. 

Ok, time to get more intense. I gave some suction to his skin. Carefully
so as not to leave too many marks on that fine alabaster skin. I just 
knew he would pop up with entertaining hickeys at the drop of... never 
mind. So, I went for his fingers. They were long and narrow. His nails 
were cut very short. I sucked his little finger all the way into my 
mouth and then slowly pulled back. As I did, I let my teeth just barely 
graze the skin until I reached the nail bed. Then I applied just a bit 
more pressure top and bottom until I reached the tip. His whole body 
shuddered as I did the nail. Gotcha! 

I then did the exact same thing to his ring finger. But even slower. As
slowly as I could manage. I could taste the salt. The tiny ridges of 
his finger pads rasped. I strengthened the suction I applied. Light at 
first, fierce by the time I hit the nail again. He was definitely 
breathing heavy now. I could see his free hand clenching the comforter 
now. I was delighted. I think he was too. But those stubborn eyes 
stayed shut. Fine. Onto the middle finger. Then the index, finally the 
thumb. By the time I reached the nail of his thumb, his eyes were 
watching me intently. I grinned as his thumb popped out of my mouth. 
Then I claimed my prize. 

His lips opened to mine and we kissed for I don't know how long. He kept
his hands busy though. I shifted so that he could get my underwear off 
without too much bother. I moaned a little as his hand measured my 
investment in our contact. I am not as long as he is, perhaps a couple 
of finger widths shorter. He over flowed my hand by several inches when 
I held him at his base. While we kissed, he stroked me, gently 
squeezing as if testing my hardness. It felt like a steel rod to me but 
it was amazing having someone else do that instead of plain old 
everyday me. 

He rose up and turned around so that he was beside me. Now he controlled
the game. Chris laid me back carefully and I let him. Fair was fair. 
His turn. I waited to see where he would go with things. Everywhere he 
touched me tingled and burned. I could almost feel the individual nerve 
endings jump. He started on my ear, nibbling at each of the three 
studs. It jolted through me like an electrical charge. Then he sucked 
on my ear lobe and finally just behind my ear. I was in bliss. The room 
practically spun. All the while his hands lightly massaged my muscles, 
skipping around here and there. 

Then came the shock. He trailed down my neck to the base of my throat
and sucked hard. I spasmed hard, my back arching. It is impossible to 
describe exactly, but it felt as though he found a button that reached 
the center of me. An 'on' button that turned my entire body into a 
buzzing circuit of ecstasy. I know now that it was absolutely a g-spot 
for me. He was the first to find that one. I know my breath caught in 
my throat until he let up on it. And when that small eternity ended 
with him releasing my skin from his suction, my body sank back down. If 
I thought I was hard before, that proved me wrong. He had let go of me 
there too but I could still feel the after effect of his touch there 

Back and forth we went, exploring each other. All without really going
after the obvious. For some reason we both decided to hold off on that 
as long as we could. So much to touch, taste, feel, learn about each 
other. And we were in no hurry. On and on, without the urgent need to 
reach orgasm. It seemed so natural at the time. It awes me a bit now. 

I do know that this entire time neither of us said a word. There didn't
seem to be any need. At some point, we mutually decided it was time to 
up the ante to the next logical, emotional, sensual level. I happened 
to be facing his feet when he slowly pushed me onto my back. He shifted 
so he was over me. That put things in an interesting position. We then 
did what came naturally. It didn't take much for me to lift my head 
slightly and lick the end of him. I could feel his thighs shudder 
against my shoulders. I felt him lift me up so I wasn't pointing at my 
bellybutton any more as he gave as good as he got. 

We dove onto each other at the same time. Warm, wet suction engulfed me
at the same time I tried to swallow him whole. He tasted of sweat and 
very faintly of soap. The skin against my tongue was silky soft 
encasing solid firmness. As I sucked him in, I let my tongue stroke the 
topside of him. I almost gagged since he reached the back of my mouth 
easily and I was tilted slightly off kilter. I fought the reflex and 
got him all the way in. His balls were pretty well balanced on my nose 
at that point. I held him there and suctioned for all I was worth for a 
few seconds. Then I pulled back halfway. 

My hands were bracing his hips, helping him keep his balance. I could
feel his hipbones against my fingers. His stomach would just brush mine 
as he pretty much did pushups over me, his hands on either side of my 
hips too. His lips covered his teeth carefully, and he liked to come up 
all the way so that the very tip of me was pressed against his lips. 
Then he would plunge back down, letting me force them apart easily, 
caressing as he slid down to the base. Flash after flash of sensation 
crashed through me, from that central contact point all the way to my 
overloaded brain. Wave after wave crashed through me. Yet we still both 
took our time without any sense of urgency. There was no hurry. But we 
were absolutely building on each thing that came before. 

I finally had to take a breather and reluctantly let him out of my
mouth. Instead, I licked at his nuts, washing them with my tongue. 
Gently, I sucked in one of his testicles and held it lightly, sucking. 
Releasing it, I did the neglected one. Over and over. His hair barely 
tickled the insides of my cheeks each time. He got creative too. Chris 
shifted forward so that his knees were just in front of my armpits. 
With the better balance this gave him, he didn't need his hands so much 
for that. 

Chris took my hips in his hands and lifted me upward. I obliged by
curling my stomach in as I bent at the waist. This pretty much left my 
backend wide open to him. He wasted no time in attacking with his 
tongue. His tongue traced a path along my perineum straight down. I 
gasped as his tongue circles hypersensitive skin. I could practically 
feel his individual taste bubs against that small inward turn of skin. 
I did my best to stay relaxed as he pressed his tongue in. My head 
thumped onto the floor as all new sensations crashed into my nervous 
system. It was truly an entirely new experience for me. No one had ever 
rimmed me before. I loved it. And he was good at it. 

Things had finally reached a height of physical need now. He lowered my
hips back down and sucked my erection back into his molten mouth. I 
wasn't sure I could hold on for long now. I began pushing away from 
him. There was still something else I wanted to do before we hit that 
ultimate endpoint. He resisted letting go of me, nearly growling his 
displeasure. The vibration that caused was not helping the matter in my 
book. I pushed against his body with my hands more insistently. With a 
sigh, he finally released me from the pleasure/pain of his mouth. 

I laid him flat on his back. At some point I had remembered to bring in
the lube. Probably during one of our brief heavy breathing rest 
sessions between onslaughts of each other's senses. Whatever, it was 
there when I wanted it. He grinned at me and beat me to it as I reached 
for it. I grinned back at him as I moved myself over his hips with my 
knees to either side of him. I heard the rather loud pop of the bottle 
top as he lifted the lid. Then the faint gurgle as he tilted the 
bottle. I almost jumped when his fingers touched my tender backside. A 
gentle but firm pressure came from one of his long fingers. I let him 

Slowly he pushed upward and in. After a second of resistance, it slid
in. He was careful but steady. I was surprised when the rest of his 
hand reached my backside firmly. I almost moaned when he began wiggling 
that damn finger. He certainly had a goal. My erection jerked when he 
found it too. The jolt of electricity should have vaporized my brain. 
It was even more intense as he gently rubbed that spot, teasing it and 
keeping the pressure steady. My shaft was dancing over his stomach 
without me touching myself. I almost protested as his finger pulled 
back. Then it became two fingers. I could feel myself stretching a bit. 
Right back to the magic button he went. One finger was good, two was 

I lost all track of time somehow. All I knew was that he pulled out and
something else starting knocking at the back door. He was not exactly 
small diameterwise, but I felt like giving it a try. I was as ready as 
I was likely to ever be. It also wasn't as if I had a whole lot of 
experience at this either. Despite what people might think, I could 
count on one hand the number of people I had had sex with before Chris. 
I wasn't constantly on the prowl looking for a hook-up. And since I had 
met Chris, I had stopped looking at anyone else at all. Funny, that. He 
was all I wanted. How odd... 

He popped through the minimal resistance and I heard the faint grunt of
his breath when it happened. Mine was definitely missing as I held mine 
waiting for a burst of dim pain to subside. It did rather quickly as he 
held very still waiting for me to let go of my death grip on him. I 
took a deep long breath and let it back out much more slowly than I had 
pulled it in. By the time the air was back outside, the pain was mostly 
gone. I nodded and he pushed again. This time he slid upward without 
any resistance. And poked me in that spot again. My knees went weak and 
my hard-on lifted and smacked down on his tight stomach audibly. 

I managed to open my eyes to look at his face. That is when I realized
he was doing just fine for a first timer.  Intense wonder was all over 
his face. His eyes were wide and his mouth slightly open. Figuring this 
out really put a new spin on things from my perspective. I wanted to 
blow his mind apart with sensual overload. I was his first. He bottomed 
out since I could feel his hair grinding against my backside now. All 
of him was in me. I was starting to really feel good myself. 

Then he twisted his hips side to side and I know I moaned for sure this
time. I lifted as he began pulling back. Then I pushed down as he 
pushed up. The impact jarred me and the room flashed neon for a second. 
It wasn't long before we had a nice rhythm going. His hands cupped my 
backside, lifting and pulling in time with me. Our breathing was now 
coming is sharp fast gasps. Every so often he did that side-to-side 
twist and I would moan some more. One of his hands started stroking me. 

He was going to bring me over the edge really fast at the rate he was
going. All of that stimulation was making me drip like a faucet on his 
stomach. I watched in detached fascination as it pooled in his innie 
bellybutton. I leaned forward to kiss him as he continued thrusting 
steadily into me. The angle change made all sorts of new things happen 
with my nerve endings. Our tongues tangled as he jammed up into me and 
held it there. I could feel his shaft expanding even wider and the 
other end twitching. I knew what was happening and I was joyfully 
thrilled. His eyes looked back into mine above our locked lips. The 
wonder in them was worth anything. I pulled away and leaned back again 
until I was upright. That pushed him even further into me. I ground my 
hips against his and it was his turn to moan. 

When the trembling of his legs finally subsided, I carefully lifted up
and then promptly fell over on my side next to him. 

He lay still for a moment, basking in the after glow of his orgasm
before he rolled onto his side to kiss me again. I was still in a state 
and he noticed immediately. He latched onto me and rolled back onto his 
back, pulling me onto of him. This time his legs spread to either side 
of mine. I looked a question into his eyes and he grinned. Nodding, he 
handed me the lube. I was more than willing at this point. 

I followed his earlier lead and carefully worked my middle finger into
him. Just as he had, I found the right spot as quickly as possible. His 
eyes flew wide. It was only then that I realized his erection had never 
gone down. It certainly jumped when I rubbed his prostate. While he had 
the advantage as far as length, I was a bit bigger around than he was. 
I went to three fingers instead of just two. When I could feel that he 
was not tightening on them, I shifted so I was between his legs. I 
lifted his legs so his ankles rested next to my neck before leaning in 
over him. The tip of me brushed right on target and I pushed in. I 
froze just as I got past his outer muscles as he clenched. 

Eventually he relaxed and I pushed in a little more. This time he didn't
clench for very long. The next push and he didn't at all. One more and 
I was to the hilt. Putting my arms down to the floor outside of his 
thighs, I leaned forward as my hips pulled back. His eyes were wide and 
watching mine. Just before I would have pulled all the way out, I 
pushed all the way back in slowly. I did this several times, waiting 
for him to be completely relaxed and ready for more. When he gripped 
his hard-on and began stroking, I knew. 

That is when I sped things up. Pulling maybe half way out, I pushed back
fast. Slow on the out, fast on the in. Over and over. My thighs slammed 
against his backside repeatedly. His free hand wandered over my chest 
and stomach, sending shivers through me.  All of the time, he watched 
my face, a smile on his lips. I changed things up and his back arched. 
Now I was hitting the target on each thrust in and out again. Pressure 
began to build and slowly climb toward climax for me. 

Just before I had my orgasm, he had his second. He clamped down on me
with such intensity I almost lost control until I fought it back. 
Strand after strand of milky fluid erupted from him. The first hit his 
chin. The next landed in a line on his chest. The following one on his 
sternum and the final one squarely in his belly button. A few final 
drops oozed out over his clenched fingers. Then I slammed into him a 
final time and lost myself in mine. He was still clamped down on me, 
and that was my entire length. Bright lights burst and flared before my 
eyes and I felt my energy draining into him. My knees went weak and my 
arms trembled. Finally, I came back to myself. He was still watching my 
face with that lop-sided smile of his. 

I pulled out slowly and lowered myself onto him. With a finger, I wiped
the fluid from his chin. The rest was squished between us. I licked 
part of it off and put the rest to his lips. He licked at the salty 
stuff and then sucked in my whole finger. I could feel his softening 
erection twitch against mine. I hadn't gone down at all.  We seemed 
well matched in that department. We kissed, leisurely and happy. Then 
he rolled to the side so my weight wasn't crushing him down. Our hands 
wandered freely, stroking and massaging. 

We must have gone at it at least twice more each. Different positions
brought different sensations. Different angles of penetration, 
different rhythms and intensities. By the time exhaustion finally did 
us in, we could barely move at all. Only then did we notice the sun was 
coming up. With a titanic effort, we gathered up our clothes and the 
comforter. Back in my room we collapsed on the bed, hauled the blanket 
over us and slept the sleep of the sated. 

On hindsight, we went at it for almost 10 hours. He matched me blow for
blow, act for act. Very few have ever done that. It was different 
another way too. I was in love with him before we ever did anything 
physical. That was new for me. It changed the act of sex from something 
merely nice into something nearly divine in nature. We were more 
concerned about making the other feel good than ourselves. This is what 
the big deal was about, finding a relationship. Now it made perfect 
sense to me. All it took was genuine love. 

First love lives on and on. Though I eventually lost Chris to his own
fears about his parents, I love him still. It turns out he was 
bisexual. I found that out the hard way. Funny enough, that didn't 
bother me. Her either. It did him though. He felt he had to choose 
between us. In the end, he chose neither. I sometimes hope that he 
found peace within himself and someone he could love without that 
lingering emotional despair. I've long forgiven him for leaving. I'll 
never be with him again and I am ok with that. Another love has found 
me. It is good, different, but I am ok with that too. 

Memory of this first night together is still clear as day for me. It is
one of those things I will always be grateful for. In all of my 
writing, I know that he has influenced me. It is a gift I cherish. Lucky me.

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