"Great play, Do," Ryan said.

He patted my back like we were old friends. I took notice of his demeanor. A comfortable warmth came over me, during the morning class change. My crotch tightened when my nostrils picked up his familiar smell. I almost always knew when Ryan was in the vicinity, but he managed to sneak up on me this time. I don't know how to explain it, except his nearness permeated my senses in a way no one else's ever had.

"Hey, you saw it?" I asked, thinking he'd probably seen the article in the Gazette and those awful pictures.

My eyes had a mind of their own, giving him a quick once over as I spoke, hesitating at his crotch, his face, and becoming locked in his deep brown gaze. The coy little smile he gave me meant he knew I was checking him out. Ryan knew me every bit as well as I knew him. I cursed my inability to resist my desire for him as well as the fact I couldn't hide it from him. Ryan's train had left the station when it came to me.

"Sure as hell did. Molly and I were sitting behind third base. You came right at me when you made that catch, Do. I thought, 'no way he's going to reach it,' but damn if you didn't. Nice play, dude. You always did have a nose for the ball."

He patted my back again, letting his hand rest in the middle of my turquoise and black shirt between my shoulder blades. My crotch tightened even more.

"Molly? You aren't with Bonnie any more?" I said surprised.

"Band practice," Ryan explained and the coy smile was back.

A chill ruined my delight over our conversation. My attitude changed as the moment hardened around me. I spit out what I had to say.

"Your girlfriend has band practice, so you go to a ballgame with another girl? Does Bonnie know that?"

The good feelings generated by an unexpected meeting with an old friend deserted the hallway. I realized things didn't change with Ryan. Why was he even talking to me, after so long?

"A guy's got to make hay, Do? You know me? Bonnie doesn't own me. We just go together."

"Yeah, I do know you," I said as my heart turned cold. "You ever get Timmy trained the way you like? I guess he turned out way more flexible than me, huh?"

I smiled at him once I took my best shot at his questionable hetro credentials. The look he gave me explained why we hadn't spoken in over a year.

"You see, that's why I hate you. I outgrew that kid stuff a long time ago. Unlike you, twinkle toes. I tried to be nice for old time's sake, but I see how that goes," Ryan said sarcastically as he turned to walk away.

"Guilty conscience there, Rye?" I spoke loud so he could hear me above the class change.

I rarely lost my temper or felt ill of other people, but Ryan could push my buttons just that fast. What might have been a polite reunion turned into an angry exchange. I suppose I knew more about Ryan than anyone. I also had a big mouth and couldn't control it, once he'd hit the hot spot between us. My inability to roll over and play dead for him was the main reason we couldn't be around each other.

If two boys could love each other as kids, Ryan and I did. We'd been inseparable from the time he moved into the neighborhood when I was six. Until three years before, Ryan was the reason why my desire for love was so strong. I'm sure I loved him before I was old enough to know what love was.

Ryan recognized I was gay before I did. We'd explored each other's bodies as boys without guilt or anxiety. When Ryan was experiencing puberty before I did, he encouraged me to experience all his changes along with him. I dove headlong into finding new and more inventive ways to excite him. In those days there was never too much attention, when it came from me.

Once I began to mature, the dynamics between us changed. At first he seemed happy that we were on the same track again and he made an effort to give me the same kind of attention I gave him. Then, after I'd caught up, he was more and more reluctant to do the things I did for him.

I eased back on the amount of time I spent stimulating him, thinking that was the problem. I was startled when he complained. I assured him nothing had changed, before he told me where we stood.

"Do, don't expect me to like it like you do. I'm not like you. I'm not gay. You're lucky I let you do what you like doing to me."

That hurt. Up until that day, Ryan and I were two parts of the same being. For the first time there was a difference between us and it was a whopper. The difference grew with Ryan becoming more demanding and less reciprocal, thinking I should be grateful to him. While objecting to the gay crack at thirteen, it became more and more apparent, as time passed, he was right about me.

I didn't simply like touching him, I loved it, and I did it less and less, thinking we'd become close again if I pretended I wasn't gay. Instead of making things better, it made things even worse. He got mad about me short changing him in an area where I'd given full service for so long.

A chasm had developed between us and it was still widening, but neither of us recognized it. Being with Ryan was no longer the joy it had been all my life. The harder I tried to find a balance between us the angrier he became with me.

I started taking vacations from him, failing to show up at his house the first thing each morning the summer we were fourteen. At first I'd relent and return to my usual routine, but the strain took its toll and had me taking more and more frequent time outs. It took awhile for me to stay away from him for a full week. It was progress, even though my heart ached. I knew we were no longer good for each other.

I had it in mind that he needed me a lot more then I needed him. I disliked the idea of letting him use me, but I hadn't been able to stay away long enough for him to notice. Toward summer's end, with lawns to mow, chores to do, and after deciding I needed an identity that wasn't half Ryan's, and this was when I lost track of how long it had been since I'd last seen him.

One day I came home after mowing and trimming all day and Ryan was waiting for me in my room. He jumped up and hugged me the way I always hugged him, when I hadn't seen him in a few days, a few hours sometimes. It was then I first realized that I could life without him, although I didn't want to.

"How you doing, Do?" he asked, sounding sincere.

"Fine, Rye. I've been working all day. I need a shower. How are you anyway?"

"Me? I'm Fine. I just wanted to see how you were. Give me another hug, buddy," he said, hugging me tight. "I got the feeling you're pissed off at me. Why don't you get your shower? I'll wait. I got something to give you."

"What?" I asked, pulling off my sweaty shirt and tossing it at my hamper, feeling a familiar warm glow when I looked at him.

"I'm not telling you until you come back. That way you got to come back, huh?"

"Where am I going in a towel?" I asked, kicking off my underwear and wrapping the towel around my waist as I looked at him, looking at me.

"I thought you were pissed off at me," I said, happy about a side of him that hadn't surfaced in some time.

The shower cooled me down, especially after I turned off the hot water so the shock of cold would interrupt my persistent erection. I hurried back to Ryan thinking I knew why he came over. With him being so nice I was going to oblige him, not that I minded. Maybe our separation made him understand how much I meant to him.

I vigorously dried my hair as I got back to my room and Ryan promptly pushed me onto the bed. I giggled with anticipation as he came down on top of me. He laughed like he laughed when we were little. He put his head on my chest and grew quiet as he felt my fresh scrubbed skin.

Wrapping my arms around him, I couldn't resist sharing the affection I felt for him. This was better. I knew in a minute or two he would jump up with an excuse to leave. The intimacy overwhelmed me in the meantime. For nearly a year Ryan had been stingy with moments like this. If there was affection to be shared, lately it was with me down between his naked thighs as he directed me to do what he wanted.

It was rare we came face to face, because this kind of intimacy quickly turned into his aggressive lust. Ryan knew what he liked and wasn't bashful to tell me. In the beginning, when our exploration of one another's bodies started, all things were equal. Once I caught up in the maturation process, he became tentative about providing me with the pleasure I gave him.

Ryan developed some desires I didn't share in the ten months between his entry into puberty and mine. In that time I continue my efforts to satisfy him without realizing he'd crossed a precipice and we ended up on opposite sides without me being notified. This encounter was all the more exciting, because I thought we were back on the same side.

He felt my chest and stomach with a gentle touch that went uninterrupted as my heartbeat quickened. I was so excited I longed for a splash of cold water to slow my overheating. He kept his face turned away, one ear against my chest, as he watched his hand slip down over my now full compliment of pubic hair. He grasped the pulsing gristle that protruded there. I closed my eyes and swooned, praying for it to last a minute more.

Ryan was the only one who could bring me to complete ecstasy and this was no exception. I was taken out of myself. Nothing mattered but my lusty appetite as he worked on me down there. As he squeezed my red hot poker, I moaned, arching my back to thrust against his talented hand.

I could feel my juices rising far too fast, forcing me to bite my tongue in an effort to slow myself down, but I was unable to quiet my hips as they met his slippery fist with regularity. I was throbbing and so hard my dick hurt. I tried to do nothing that pushed me closer to the edge of the end of this magnificent moment, but nothing was going to turn back the force rising within me.

Ryan abruptly stopped. The room grew silent except for my heart pounding in my ears as I searched for enough air to breath. Oh no, this can't be all.

I hung there on the edge of oblivion. He wasn't going to leave me like this?

"You're big as me," Ryan observed, holding tight.

"Longer than yours," I said, biting my lip because I knew he'd need to defend his size.

"Not nearly as thick," Ryan added. I still got you there, Do."

"Yes, you're way thicker," I said gulping air, thankful it didn't start an argument.

"Long though," he said, squeezing, while breathing hot air on it.

I shuddered as a hot flash ran through me. I felt his breath blowing over my shaft as his face moved in for a closer exam.

He took my breath away as all of my ability for intelligent thought deserted me. Even with scrapping teeth, a bite now and again, and some rather rough nut squeezes, Ryan took control of me body and soul. He took me somewhere he'd never taken me before.

I'd never totally gotten lost in pleasure the way I became lost to Ryan that day. I was dizzy, my body twitched, and I felt as if I'd just parachuted out of a high flying plane, which left me plunging toward my bed without any idea how to open my chute. The free fall exhilarated me.

I was a suspended apparition disconnected from mortal concerns. I'd never been so far removed from the world I kept a tight grip on. I'd never known Ryan to get lost in an uninhibited display of affection for me. It reinforced all the feelings I felt for him.

I warned him of impending explosions and the mess that might follow. Using his hand to accomplish the rest, my body twisted, churned, and expelled one happy stream after another, until I lie panting and exhausted.

"Damn, Do, you're hell when you get going. You never did that before," he laughed as he spoke about my big finish.

I watched to make sure it was him. Then I became fearful it was a dream and I might wake up alone. He lay on top of me and turned his face up toward mine.

"Well? Didn't you like it?" he asked after a long silence. "I picked it out just for you."

"Whew! What brought that on?" I asked, still unable to regain full control of my brain.

"I miss you. Couldn't you tell? I know I'm a butthead sometimes, but I don't mean to be. I don't know why I act that way, Do. I don't know what makes me say the things I say. I think I'm a bad seed."

"Yeah, but you've never missed me enough to do that."

"My bad. You know I care about you, Do. I wanted to let you know how much. How was it?" he quizzed with an evil smile.

"Whew! You took all the air out of me, Ryan. I've never felt like that before. I've never felt that ... that ... I can't even describe what I felt."

"Cool, dude. You described it perfect. I hope that makes up for the way I act sometimes."

"You don't have anything to make up for," I said.

"It's not the way I expected it would be, Do. I don't want it to be like this," he said in a vague malaise of meaningless words that meant he didn't want to suck cock, be an asshole, or some other obscure notion only he understood.

"Like what?" I asked, concerned about my inability to understand this Ryan.

"Your parents are going to be home in a minute. I better scoot."

Yanking on my pants, I started to stand so I could walk him to the door, but he came down on top of me, pushing me back on the bed. We locked eyes before he pressed his lips against mine. I forgot what it was I intended to do. I held on tight.

We'd kissed before. It wasn't a regular part of our activities, but we kissed every once in awhile, but he never let me kiss him the way he kissed me that day.

I was blown away. He was gone before I could get one more of those kisses off him. I was hard again and my belly was caked in a drying remnant of Ryan's handiwork. I got up to head for the shower once I heard the backdoor close, hesitating at my window, watching him cut across the backyards to his house like he use to do once upon a time.

"I love you," I said, realizing I couldn't tell him, not that I understood the words or my feelings for him.

I was delightful at dinner and my parents were baffled, after I'd been moping around for days. I merely wanted to eat and get over to Ryan's house, where I planned on returning the favor in any form or fashion he wanted.

I'd heard about breaking up and making up, but I'd never imagined what it was like, until Ryan came over to make up with me. It went to the top of my list of best things to ever happen to me. Ryan's name filled the list of best moments ever in those days.

I was certain we were on our way to happily ever after, but like breaking up and making up, ever after wasn't a lesson I was ready for yet. I had a lot to learn about being a teenager and more to learn about why other people do what they do. For the moment my life was most excellent and that's all I cared about.


Send Rick an email at quillswritersrealm@yahoo.com

On to Chapter Three

Back to Chapter One

Chapter Index

Rick Beck Home Page

"Outside the Foul Lines Book One" Copyright © 1 December 2007 OLYMPIA50. All rights reserved.
    This work may not be duplicated in any form (physical, electronic, audio, or otherwise) without the author's written permission. All applicable copyright laws apply. All individuals depicted are fictional with any resemblance to real persons being purely coincidental.

Home Page | Authors | Stories by the Writer Suggested Reading | Suggested Viewing | Links Privacy Policy | Terms of Service Send a Comment All Site Content © 2003 - 2024 Tarheel Writer unless otherwise noted Layout © 2003 - 2024 Tarheel Writer