I awoke, as usual, to Tipper licking my face. It was too soon as always, but Tipper and I have always been morning guys, and once we're awake, we're up and running. It was crack of dawn early, but even so I could smell coffee and bacon, and I knew Mom was already downstairs. I ran down, with The Tippster right behind and getting tangled up in my legs like always, and Mom frowned just t little when she saw me in nothing but boxers. That's one of the few things she really doesn't like, is me running around in just underwear. I let Tipper out and ran back upstairs. I did the shower, shave and get-ready stuff in record time, and dressed in the one suit I own. It's getting a little tight across the shoulders, and a little short in the leg, but I figured it could just about pass for today. "I'll have to get a new one for the Spring Dance," I thought.

I went downstairs, and Mom was getting the breakfast ready that we would eat when we got home from church. I started to set the breakfast room table, and she said "Darlin' we need to get you a new suit!"

"Yeah, I know!" I said "I guess I grew more than I thought I did since Christmas! It looked fine then!"

"It's your weights sweetie; you're getting so muscular nothing fits anymore!" she said. "Go up, and just put on your slacks and that nice blazer you have, those'll be fine for this morning and today."

So I finished setting the table, and went and got changed, and when I got back downstairs, the family was ready to go. Dad drove us in the Saturn, and even though they didn't come right out and say it, I knew my Mom and Dad were glad I was along without fussing about it.

Church was church. Sorry guys, for those of you who really get into it. I listened as well as I could, and let my mind wander sometimes. The sermon was the usual platitudes and hypocrisy I thought, like I could envision the people there giving up everything and following Jesus. "What? Give up my Mercedes? What? Give up my lifestyle?"

In spite of the promises I'd made to my Father, and to Beth, the whole thing got to me and when we were leaving the church something got into me to tease the Rector.

"So, Jesus was God, right?" I asked him.

"Yes...." he said sort of warily, since he knows me way too well. I'm the boy who got asked politely to leave confirmation class!

"So, when the soldiers whipped Jesus and then traded off his clothes, they got to see God naked?"

And behind me I heard this sharp intake of breath, and Dad said "Jeremy!" in that voice he uses just before the boom falls on you.

"Sorry Rector, I guess that was out of line," I apologized, but behind Dad I could hear my grandfather snicker!

We all went back to our house for Easter breakfast, which in our family has developed into a feast. I had invited Dave, and he was waiting for us when we got to the house. We clasped palms and patted backs in the approved manner. Then we ate ourselves silly.

As soon as we were finished breakfast, and we four younger people had done KP, we all left for the day at my grandparent's house, and Dave was invited to come too.

"You sure it's okay?" he asked.

"Believe me, if it wouldn't be okay Mom wouldn't have asked you," I said. "You know my grandparents like you man, just come, okay?"

So Dave called and got the okay from his parents, and I drove us over in my pick-up, and the girls rode with Mom and Dad. We got to my Grandparent's a little behind the others, since I like to take the back way. When Dave and I went in, Grandmother was holding the door.

"Well!" she said, "Your Grandfather tells me you knocked the wind out of the Rector this mornin' young man!" So I told her what I'd asked, and also that I had apologized, and Grandmother laughed until she could hardly catch her breath.

"Goodness sakes Momma, don't laugh at him you'll only encourage him," my Mom hollered from the front room. "He's bad enough already!"

"Dude, did you really say that?" Dave asked. I nodded. "Awesome!" he whispered, and I winked at him.

We went into the front room, which is the first of three connected sort of parlor rooms in my grandparents house. Back in the Eighteenth Century houses sort of grew as the families grew, and theirs was no exception. It's a cool house. In the kitchen, this was originally a separate little building, the stove sits inside the old fireplace opening! It has the original brick floor from the mid 1700's.Grandmother told me once that she remembers from when she was a small girl, they used a coal range and the smoke went up the old flue.

"Well! Our Family Atheist!" Dad said as we walked in.

"Dad, I've told you, I'm not an atheist!" I said.

"Honey, remember our conversation?" Beth said. Now's the time to set things straight. You've got everyone's attention, so just explain how you feel," she continued..

So I did. I talked, and talked, and talked some more, and told them what I believed and why, and I won't bore you with my brand of religion. If you're that interested I'll send you a copy of the blog I posted about it all. I finally wound down, and they were all looking at me.

"Dude! Awesome!" said David, "You could be Jewish!"

"Darlin', I had no idea you prayed, I think that's wonderful!" said Mom.

"Jeremy, I'll never make a point of you going to church again. I think you have a personal set of values that is lots better than most of the people around you. I'm proud of you!" said Dad.

"Ha! The boy's not an atheist! He's a Unitarian!" said grandfather.

And Beth just winked at me.

So with the matter of my religious beliefs safely put to rest, we all had drinks. David and I had to content ourselves with sweet iced tea, but the rest of them had Bloody Marys. The baked Brie cheese in the pie crust that Grandmother made was just right, and so were all the other things she and Mom had made for appetizers. In spite of just having had an enormous breakfast, Dave and I plowed through the stuff, and were ready for Easter dinner when it arrived on the table about two. Some days it seems all I do is eat, and I'm still hungry. I'll bet a bezillion Southern families sat down to pretty much the same thing. Shrimp and crab cocktail, cold squash soup, baked Virginia ham, cold Smithfield ham, home made scalloped potatoes, French fried eggplant, string beans, stewed tomatoes and cornbread.

We were sitting down to start, and Grandmother asked "David, do you still take molasses on your cornbread dear?"

"Yes ma'am, please!" he said, and he turned to me and whispered "She remembered!"

"Of course she remembered, idiot!" I whispered back. "Does your Mom ever forget what her guests like? Or your Grandmother?"

"Uh, no, I guess not," Davey said.

"It's a thing Southern women have. Like a memory chip for hospitality," I said. "We guys remember what everybody drinks, and the ladies remember what everybody likes to eat."

"Y'think?" David asked. And he looked like he believed my bullshit.

"Oh David! God! You'd believe anything!" I was laughing, and when the rest of them heard the laughter, we had to share our joke, and to my surprise my Grandfather said I wasn't far wrong! Dude!

I asked my grandfather about what Unitarians were, and how he knew about them. Won't bore you with all that either, but I'm gonna check them out because from what I heard from Grandfather, they're what I've been looking for.

Then I asked about Packard cars, since I had heard about them from the old dude at the hospice. I got an earful about Packard cars from Grandfather. I asked about Henry's Packard car, and got an earful about that too! Can you even imaging a twelve cylinder engine? Fuckin' awesome! I mean Grandfather has a 1952 Buick sedan with a straight eight engine that he goes to parades in and stuff. I'm not allowed to drive it. It's his hobby, sort of. I mean it's his hobby after golf, and hunting, and fishing, and keeping Grandmother happy. I've never been interested much in cars, since I grew up on the water all my spare time has been in boats. The Buick's cool, but it's like being in a cave.

"You know how big the Buick is?" Grandfather asked, "Well, Packards were bigger'n that!"

"Man, after dinner, show me the Buick again, okay?" David asked me.

"Why don't you go for a drive in it?" said grandfather.

"NO, absolutely NOT!" went Dad.

"I think they're old enough," Grandfather said.

"NO! It's way bigger than anything he's ever driven. He's just not old enough or experienced enough," Dad said.

"Oh Robbie, for heaven's sakes, of course the boy's old enough!" Grandfather said. "We'll all go and I'll check them out with the controls and then they can go for a little ride."

Dad looked at me, then at Grandfather, then back to me. "Well," he said, "It's your car Edwin, on your head be it!" but I could tell Dad was absolutely not happy about this.

After dinner, while everything settled, but before dessert, Dad, Grandfather and me and Davey went out to the garage where the Buick lives. It's bottle green, really dark, and full of heavy chrome trim, and grandfather keeps it so polished you can see ten feet into the reflections I swear. Inside it's totally plush and has ropes hanging from the back of the front seats, and huge seats that stretch all the way across the car.

Grandfather got into the driver's seat, and I sat beside him, Davey leaned forward from the middle of the back seat and Dad sort of sulked in the seat behind me! We drove out to the road and took off, with Grandfather explaining all the controls and how everything worked. The engine sounds totally wicked cool, really deep and throaty. The radio was enormous, and only got AM stations! The radio actually doesn't work anymore, something about things called tubes in it, I can't remember. So we drove, and one thing Grandfather did warn us about was that the car was very heavy, and had drum brakes and wouldn't stop as quickly as modern lighter cars.

We got to a large parking lot, and I traded places with my Grandfather, and did some basic maneuvers with the car, and reversed and backed up, and parked, and it was like taking a driver's test all over again. Then David did the same stuff, and was like totally blown away that my Grandfather was letting him drive it too. Then I got back behind the wheel, and drove the two older guys back to my grandparents, gobbled up some desserts and then Davey and I took off.

It was awesome. There's no other word to describe driving a car like that. Even the freakin' horn sounded majestic and that the car meant business! I drove out to where Dave and I live, and we were just enjoying the country roads.

"This would be so cool to drive to the dance," I said.

"Any chance?" Dave asked.

"My Grandfather might let us, but Dad would kill it. Dead. It's not even worth asking about," I said.

"I figured. Mine would do the same," Dave said.

"Shame though, that shit we pulled last year, wreckin' that car at Ethan's, they'll hold it over our heads forever!" I said.

"Tell me about it," Dave said.

Dave looked around in the interior, and at the rear seat. "It's like a bedroom back there!" he said.

"I know!" I said.

"Can you imagine gettin' laid in a car like this!?" he asked.

"Stop!" I said

"Get 'em up on that seat, get their panties down, kneel down and dive right in!" Dave said, looking at me, grinning.

"Dave, knock it off!" I was laughing, but starting to get horny.

"Yeah man.... Get 'em wet an' ready, then hold their ankles up and just plow the gash man, just plow the gash," Davey said. He held up his arms like he was holding Allison's legs up and thrust his hips a few times, he grinned and looked over to me, "Whaddaya think?"

"Chrissakes, will you shut the fuck up?" I said.

"Or maybe lay 'em down on the seats and ride 'em that way," Dave said. "Nah, pussy juice and cum might stain the upholstery."

"Ya know, drivin' this bitch is hard enough without tryin' to do it with a hard-on!" I said.

David leaned way back, and stretched out his legs. The ridge down his left leg was obvious. "I dunno 'bout that man, I got me a hard-on and I'm enjoyin' the ride just fine!"

I drove for a few minutes, watching the road with one eye, and watching Davey slowly rubbing that lump on his thigh with the other. His head was leaned back against the seat, and he was still stretched out, and he had his eyes closed.

"Nobody home at my house," I said quietly.

"Let's," was all he said, and I had the Buick in the first turning I came to, and turned around and headed for my house.

We arrived, and I parked the car in the turn around for the garage, and we were out of it and running up the walk. When we were inside, we sort of stopped, and looked at each other in the hall.

"It feels weird, just sort of decidin' to do this," Dave said.

"I know," I replied. "Like we made an appointment or somethin' to jack off together!"

"Yeah, I know, before it was because we were horny and watching the flick or talkin' about sex or somethin', but now, I dunno, it's weird," he said.

"Yeah," I said. "Um, I guess we should get this over quick. I mean, we can't get naked and stuff, and cum on each other again like last night."

"Okay," Davey said. "Powder room?"

"Go," I said, and we walked down the hall and into the little powder room near the kitchen. We unbuckled and unzipped and shucked down our pants and boxers. Without saying anything we reached under each other's package and got our fingers around the other guy's balls.

"Ummmm," David went, and "Oh, yeah man!" I said, and we started stroking ourselves.

After a while David said, "What are we gonna catch our stuff in?" He was starting to breathe deep and pant a little.

"Hold up," I said, and reached over and tore out several kleenex for each of us, and made little pads out of them, and put them on the vanity next to us. "There," I said. "Are we gonna try t'go together?"

"Yeah," Davey whispered, "let's try."

And we started stroking again, but this time we just paid attention to ourselves, I mean we didn't hold each other's balls or touch each other anyplace else. I was playing with my own sack, and Davey was rubbing the hair on his belly. It didn't take long, and I was panting, and getting into the short strokes. I looked up into Davey's eyes; I could tell he was getting near to his cum too.

"You 'bout ready stud?" I whispered.

"Little more bud, little more," he whispered back, and I slowed down a little so we could time it to cum together.

"Now?" I asked after a few more seconds. "Shit Davey, I'm fucking close!"

"Nearly!" Davey said in this strained voice. "Oh, God Jeremy... nearly!" He was breathing really hard, like I was. You know how, when you're jacking off, you kind of hold your breath and strain so your cock gets harder sometimes? I could see Davey doing that almost without thinking about it. God, just looking at him beat off was fucking awesome. His balls were jiggling up and down, and he had this concentrated look on his face. He reached over and grabbed his wad of Kleenex, and I did the same. We cupped the pads over the heads of our cocks, and kept going. "Almost.... Oh, God, almost.....almost....ready bud?...ready?" Davey panted.

"Right with ya man, I'm there," I said. I couldn't hold it any longer if I had to, and cummed into the kleenex pad. It wasn't the best cum I've ever had but like any cum it was excellent!

Davey stroked a few more times, and his knees buckled a little, and he inhaled one time and strained a little.

"Oh, yeah... ohyeah....ohyeah...!" he exhaled, and filled his own wad.

I was milking the dribbles and last drops out of myself into my little thing of kleenex, and was watching Davey do the same. Dave looked up at me, and he had this sort of troubled look in his eyes and on his face. When ya know a guy as well as I know David, you know at once when something's wrong.

"What?" I asked.

Davey looked back down at what he was doing to himself, cleaning up. "Nothin'," he said.

"Don't gimme that shit man, I know you. What's up?" I said.

"It's....I...Jeremy, I need.... we need girls to fuck, or somethin' man," he said. "We can't keep doin' this with each other like we're twelve.... I mean... Jeremy we're gonna be seventeen...I mean we're not kids anymore man."

"Truth," I said. "Can't argue with y'stud." I looked at him and he met my eyes this time. "Trouble is it feels too good to stop."

He looked down again and shrugged. I threw my wet hunk of kleenex into the john, and he did the same and flushed it. We pulled up our pants, and did the usual stuff guys do to get dressed again.

"Jeremy...oh, man... look I'm not sayin' it doesn't feel good....'cause it does...fact it feels TOO good sometimes," he said. "Like last night in my bedroom, hell man, that was so intense."

"So, what's wrong with us doin' that?" I asked. "You like it, I like it, what's the big deal?"

"You're not a girl Jeremy! Haven't ya noticed?" he said.

"No shit. I'm not a girl, so what? You think we're the only guys who jack off together in school? Sure as hell didn't stop you from beggin' me t'cum all over ya last night, did it?" I said.

"Jeremy...it's not just jackin' off together man....it's....Jesus! Last night we had our arms around each other!" he said.

"So what man.... So fucking WHAT!" I was confused and hurt. "We're best friends David, so I hugged you, so what!"

David was quiet, and just stood there, in the bathroom. He wouldn't meet my eyes.

"It's the gay thing with you again, isn't it?" I asked. Even to me my voice sounded dead and flat. I felt like shit. "If you do something with another guy, and like it, it means you're gay," I said, "that's what you think, isn't it?"

"No. it's not that, it's..." he started.

"What ever happen to no shame David?" I asked.

"I'm not ashamed...oh, fuck it....." he shook his head.

"WHAT? What is it David?" I said forcefully.

"I DON'T KNOW WHAT THE FUCK IT IS FOR CHRISSAKES!" he yelled.

There are times in any friendship when backing off is the only thing you can do. David and I, we've backed off from each other lots of times when arguments got a little too heated, and after a while, a day, or a couple of days, one or the other of us would make some small advance towards the other and the old gears would slip back into place and the friendship would right itself and we'd be back on an even keel. But this, oh man, this felt different. I was hurt and confused, and felt at a loss for words. I did an instant replay in my mind of everything that had happened while we were watching the movie the Saturday night, and then afterwards with what we had done together, and what he had done and said in the car, and for the life of me I couldn't see where I had lead him on, or done anything wrong. I mean, last night he practically begged me to stay and jack off again! Maybe Davey is feeling as torn as I am about all this. Maybe he really does want me as much as I want him, but there's this barrier in our heads about being labeled as gay? My mind was going a thousand miles an hour again, and I must have got the blank look on my face guys tell me I get when I'm thinking deeply.

"Hey, we better go," Dave said quietly.

"Yeah," I said, and we went out to the car.

David walked over to the shotgun side and I did too. When he got to the car, and turned to see me behind him he got this funny look on his face. I held out the keychain on my pointer finger.

"Ya gonna let me drive it?" he sounded incredulous.

I just pushed the keys at him and nodded. I felt if I opened my mouth it would end everything, and I'd totally disgrace myself because I felt like crying. Nearly seventeen and I felt like crying because I was in love, in lust, fuck, who knew, with my best friend. They don't tell you about this in Health class. They don't tell you how sex changes the way people feel and react towards each other. They don't teach us how to deal with emotions that come from sex. "Here's the changes you can expect in your bodies," the say, and we snicker over the charts and pictures of guys and girls going through puberty, and "here's how babies are conceived and born," are interesting lessons, and "wear condoms," is great advice and all, but I suddenly felt like I had lost my main sheet, and I was all aback on a lee shore. No, they don't tell you how sex changes everything.

David took the keys and our eyes met. This time I was the one who broke the contact. He walked around the beast, and we got in. I just sat there, looking out the side window. I felt rather than saw him shrug, and the car started.

"Any advice?" he asked quietly.

"It corners, turns and generally drives like a cement truck, and takes five times the distance to stop that y'think it will," I said just as softly.

"Okay," David said, and reversed out of the turning pad and we were off back to my grandparents.

On the way back, Dave made a few comments about the car, and how it handled, and how long it took to accelerate and other stuff. I just answered in monosyllables, and grunts. When we pulled into the drive at Grandfather's David turned to me.

"Garage?" he asked.

"Can you back it in?" I asked him.

"Yeah, I think so," He said.

"Yeah then. Put it in the garage," I said. And David did a great job putting the Buick back. We got out and went into the house, and got bombarded with questions from everybody about where we'd gone, and how we enjoyed it, and Grandfather offered the car for whenever, which Dad promptly said no way. I looked over at David, busy talking to my Grandmother about the car and thought "I would die for you, right now, right here in this room.... I love you David... I would give anything to go back and not have started this sex shit between us..... I love you David..... I love you so much."

They had been waiting to have a light supper, and our return got that in gear. David and I ate like we usually do, but at one point I looked up and caught Beth looking across at us. She met my eye and raised an eyebrow, and I knew she had picked up the strained vibes flowing between me and Davey. I just looked down and very slightly shook my head.

We got through supper, and the conversation afterwards, and before anyone else left I asked if David and I could go. We did the usual goodbye stuff, and got kissed by Grandmother and hugged by Grandfather, and Mom kissed Davey, and you know how it goes in families that genuinely love and care for each other. We both thanked Grandfather again for the loan of the Buick, and he again told us we could use it anytime we wanted, for dates or picnics or anything. And we went out to my truck.

The drive back to David's was pretty chilly. Not temperature wise, but between us there seemed to be a wall where there never had been before.


On to Chapter Thirteen

Back to Chapter Eleven

Chapter Index

An Albemarle Tale is Copyright © 2007 by The Whitewater Kid
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.

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