Every time I went to physical therapy, I thought of Kyle. I thought of the other ones, too, but Kyle was always on my mind when I had to go to that. I had a mental image of me walking down the street or someplace with Kyle, Justin, Tim, and Brian. We had our arms crooked together at our elbows, but they weren't helping me walk. We were all walking on our own. That's what I kept seeing, and that's what kept me motivated. The fact of the matter is, physical therapy is very hard work. Especially the kind where you're building from nothing, like I had to do. Occupational therapy, or OT, as we called it, wasn't easy, either, but physical therapy, or PT, could wear you out, at best, and hurt like hell, at worst. When the doctor told me my prognosis, and when I figured out it was so much better than I had ever thought it would be, I was determined to get there. I'm not saying it was always easy. In fact, it almost never was. Sometimes I hurt so bad the tears would leak out of my eyes. It wasn't an emotional thing at all. It was pure pain forcing itself out of me through my eyes. Rick was this big endurance athlete, and that's the way I thought of myself. I was training for life the same way Rick trained for a triathlon or a marathon, and I wasn't going to let it get me down. As sucky as the PT and OT had been in Florida, at least the academics there had been good. I was way ahead of where I was supposed to be in school, in terms of courses and what not, when I moved to Montana. I had already taken all the math and science I needed to graduate in Montana, and the social studies, too, in fact. I needed English, of course. You can't ever get away from that subject, try as you might, but that wasn't a hard one for me. My dad made me take some more math and science because he thought I needed it, and he made me take a computer programming course, too. Like everybody else, I already knew the ins and outs of the basic computer applications, but this course was in database programming on the Web. It wasn't as hard as I thought it might be, though. Because I was basically ahead of myself, I didn't have to go to school all day. That's all right, though. There was plenty of PT to keep me busy. I got Sunday off from PT every week, but I only got one Saturday off a month from the time I got there until Christmas. "I have a present for you," Julie said right before Christmas. Julie was my main therapist. She was young and pretty, and I thought I was in love with her. I used to routinely get erections when she touched my legs, especially my thighs. She knew it, too, and she would either ignore them or tell me to concentrate on what I was doing. That was just part of her job. I had gotten her a present, too, of course, but I hadn't brought it that day. Damn. I knew I was going to be embarrassed when she gave me hers. "Your present is, we're going to start concentrating on toning after Christmas. You won't have to come in on Saturdays, and the exercise won't be quite as rough," she said. When she said that, I almost burst into tears. She noticed, and she hugged me. "Julie, . . . " I said. "Chris, I'm your big sister and your therapist. I'm not your girlfriend," she said. "I know. But I love you so much," I said. "And I love you, too, Chris, but it's not that kind of relationship," she said. "I know," I said. I'm sure there was sadness in my voice when I said that. I mean, I knew there was never going to be anything between us. She had a boyfriend, even. A serious one. We had talked about that a few times before. But she was so beautiful and so nice. And I loved her so much. "Chris, I'm very flattered that you would feel that way about me, but we've been over this, haven't we?" "Yeah. I'm sorry, Julie," I said. "I'll be good." "Okay. Let's get started," she said. In October, I had back-to-back surgeries. The first one was on my right leg, and the second one was on my right arm. The doctors had figured out a way to go in and reattach some muscles, or something, to make me less stiff. It had worked, too, and by Christmas I was able to use the right side of my body like I had never been able to before. It still wasn't as good as my left side, but it was a hell of a lot better. I got my driver's license two weeks after my second surgery, and I was sky high. The first thing I did when I got home was call Kyle. "Guess what I just did," I said. "I don't know. What? Fuck your therapist?" Kyle asked. I laughed. "I wish. No, I just got my driver's license. I can drive, Kyle!" "Oh, man! Oh, Chris! I'm so proud of you, I could bust," Kyle said. "Are you going to get a car?" "I'm hoping for Christmas," I said. "I know I will eventually, but I'm hoping it's going to be in a couple of months. It's probably going to be next Christmas, though. Not this one coming up." "I hope so, too," he said. We just shot the shit after that. Getting my license opened a whole new world to me. That, and being able to walk on crutches. After surgery, they gave me a leg brace to compensate for the muscles I didn't yet have in my right leg, and I started concentrating on walking without the sticks. It was slow at first, but one day it was almost like my muscles said, "Okay, you win." After that, I got better and better at walking without crutches. I had a limp, but it wasn't bad, I didn't think. The first few weeks of school I had to use a wheelchair. I was up on crutches all the time at PT and at home, but they didn't want me in the halls at school on crutches yet. After surgery and the brace on my leg, though, I went to school on crutches. That was totally liberating, compared to the chair, and I loved doing simple things, like standing in front of a urinal to do my business. I think almost every guy takes that for granted, but until you do it for the first time at sixteen, you don't know how great it is. I made some progress on the social front, too. I mean, I was totally in love with Julie, my therapist, but I actually started dating a girl my own age. We'd go to games and movies and parties and out to eat, and we'd go parking, too, and make out. The making out was the part I liked the best. Now that I could drive, that was possible. You can't actually do all that much parking in Montana after, say, October 1st because it's too cold, but we found ways to make out elsewhere. Once at church, even. It was funny to watch Madison's parents when I would go to pick her up. I knew they thought there was no way I could have sex with Madison, and they had this sort of relieved look on their faces. Little did they know. Although, actually, Madison and I never did have sex. I wanted to, and I thought we got pretty close a time or two, but it never happened. She said she wasn't a virgin, but she was only a sophomore, after all. I didn't really believe that business about not being a virgin. And she always came up with some reason we couldn't do it. It might have just been me, but I don't think she was ready. But I was ready, and that was the problem. We lost interest in each other after the novelty was gone. She was my first girlfriend, and I'd never forget her. Except, you know what? She was really only my first girl and not ever really my friend. I knew what true friends were, and I had a houseful of them in Emerald Beach, Florida. She was absolutely nothing to me like any one of those guys was. I stepped down from crutches to a cane for a few weeks, but I felt like a damn fool using a cane. I mean, old men use canes, not young guys like me. Skiing is a really popular sport in Missoula, Montana, where I live, and there were people on crutches all over the damn place, all the time in winter. I could just have had a skiing injury when I was on crutches but not when I was on the cane. I finally just left the cane home one day, and that was the last time I used it. My parents had insisted I take my crutches on the trip to Emerald Beach, and, frankly, I was glad I had. We had had twenty minutes to get from Concourse A to Concourse C in the Atlanta airport, and Dave and I had had to really book it. I couldn't have moved that fast without my crutches. Anyway, back to my social life. I made a bunch of friends with guys and girls. I wasn't at school after eleven o'clock every day, so I couldn't participate in lunch or extra-curricular activities. Except newspaper, and that was a class. The teacher actually recruited me to write a column about our school from the point of view of a disabled kid. It was actually a column about diversity, and I even got Brian to write a guest column about being gay in a big Southern high school. He did a great job, as I knew he would, and he wrote all about them having an openly-gay student body president. It was in newspaper that I met Lisa. She transferred in at the start of the second semester from Oregon. Her mom was a graduate student at the university, and for me it was love at first sight. God, she was gorgeous. Blond. Really good body. Beautiful face. Smart. Great personality. Everything. She was everything I wanted. I asked her out. By then, I had gotten rid of the cane, and I was on my own pegs. I wasn't fast, or anything, and I was obviously disabled a little bit. I wasn't a burden, though, and I could hold my own. Our first date was the mall. You know, look around at the stores, eat something, go to a movie. Not much make-out that first time, but a little. Our second date was going to a Barnes and Noble, look at the books and magazines, coffee, lots of talk, and a good bit more make-out that night. I'm not going to go into all the details because you can figure it out, but we really got to liking each other. Eventually we ended up at my house one Friday night when my parents and brother had gone to a professional conference with my dad, and we did the deed. After that, we both hunted chances to be together. Everybody at school knew we were a couple, and the guys treated me with more respect than I had ever known anywhere but in Emerald Beach. "Kyle, I got laid Friday night," I told him on the phone. "For real? Not just your hand?" Kyle said. "Yeah, for real. Lisa," I said. "Oh, man. That is so good, Bubba. I wish you were here for me to hug," he said. "I know. I wish you were here," I said. "Why? Does she have a brother?" he asked. "You shit," I said. He and I both laughed hard. Those boys in Emerald Beach kept me going through a very hard year, and I loved them for it. It was a hard year, but it was a good year, too. I mean, I got strength and dexterity and flexibility and stamina that I hadn't even dreamed of having. Lisa and I went to the Junior-Senior Prom together and danced all night long. We broke up that weekend, though. We both knew the truth. We weren't really meant for one another. Plus, she was a senior, and I was a junior. She was going off to college back in Oregon--starting that summer, actually--and I was staying put for another year. We had been for each other what we each needed at the time, but it was over. "Kyle, Lisa and I broke up last night," I said to him on the phone. "Shit! Goddamn, man," he said. "Are you heartbroken?" "Naw. Not really," I said. "We had fun, but it was over, you know?" "Good. I'm glad you're not sad about it. I can't wait for y'all to get here," he said. "Yeah, me either. Are you going to be ready for me, Kyle?" "Yeah, of course I am. I can't wait to see you and see all that you've improved," he said. "Kyle, you know I owe to you what I've done, don't you?" "You don't owe shit to me, Chris. What the hell are you talking about, boy?" he said. "Okay. I know you won't accept it, but I do owe you," I said. "The only thing you owe me is that sixty cents for that coke I bought you last summer. And I demand repayment," he said. He was talking in that funny way he used when he was joking with Justin or me or Rick. "I mean that, now. I got to have my sixty cents back." "Asshole," I said, and he and I laughed long and hard. "I wish we could stay longer than two weeks," I said to my parents before we left. "You're going to be off therapy for three weeks, Chris. Two weeks in Emerald Beach and a week with your grandparents," Dad said. "That's the outside limit, son. You know that." "I know, Dad. I want to get back. I'm sure they're going to charge me up enough for me to do a year's worth in six months. That's the kind of effect those guys have on me," I said. "I know. I was with you guys last summer, remember? God bless you, my son. You've made me so proud," he said. He kissed me on the forehead, and that was like some kind of holy anointing, or something. Goddamn! I was going to break physical therapy records when I came back. I felt it in my bones.
It was a joy to have Paddy, Chris, and Dave with us. They fit in so naturally that you would have thought they had always been part of the family. Just as Rick predicted, Kyle, Jus, Chris, and Paddy became pals, and Tim, Brian, Denny, and Dave became a group. They did a lot together, of course, and Rick and I were often included, too, but that was how they chose to group up. Chris went to work at the Laguna with the other boys. I knew we didn't really need another bellhop, but he wanted desperately to work with his brothers. Kyle, of course, took charge of getting him uniformed and trained, and Chris apparently did as well as any of the others. God knows he wasn't lazy, that was for sure, and he was very, very bright. "Shit, I want me a limp," Kyle said one afternoon, early in the week. Tuesday afternoon, in fact. "Want you a limp? I thought your problem was wanting a hard. I thought limp came natural to you," Justin said. We all laughed. "He got you last, Kyle," Chris said. He delighted in that game, especially when Kyle was the brunt of the joke. "I know," Kyle said in response to Chris. "Not that kind of limp. If I want that kind of limp, all I need to do is look at you, especially when you're naked." "You look at me when I'm naked, Kyle," Justin said in a pretend-seductive voice. "As little as possible," Kyle said. "So what did you mean you want to get you a limp?" Justin asked. "A limp when I walk. Like him. He's getting all the pity tips," Kyle said. "How much did you make today in tips?" "A hundred and forty dollars," Chris said. "See? I made eighty, and that included two blowjobs," Kyle said. We all laughed. "Damn, I didn't even think of that," Chris said. We all laughed again. "You don't even know how to give a blowjob," Kyle said. They were both grinning their faces off, having fun. "Well, it's not rocket science," Chris said. "Pocket rocket," Kyle replied. "You wouldn't really do that, would you?" Dave asked his brother, obvious concern in his voice. "No, Dave, and Kyle wouldn't, either," Tim said. "They're just teasing, Bubba." "I know. I was teasing, too," Dave said. Everything about what he had said, though, and how he had said it, told me that he really didn't know and he really wasn't teasing. "Who wants to ski?" Kyle asked. "Ski?" Dave asked, obviously confused. "Water ski, he means," Brian said. "I do." They all said they did, including Chris. "I've been wanting to get your ass up on those skis for a long time, Bubba," Kyle said to Chris. "Well, I'm ready," he said. "By the way, I have another brace I can wear. It's fiberglass and won't get messed up if it gets wet with that salt water. In fact, when I told my orthotist I was probably going to be water skiing this summer, he made it special for me." "What was that word you said?" Kyle asked. "What? Orthotist?" Chris asked. "Yeah. What is that?" Kyle asked. "It's the guy who makes braces for you. Mine can make any kind of prosthesis you might want," Chris said. "He makes rubbers?" Justin asked. "You're thinking prophylactic, Bubba. That thing he said is different. Of course, in your case, it's about the same," Kyle said. We all laughed. "He got you last, Jus," Chris said. "No. Nuh-uh. We have a new rule, thanks to him," he said, meaning Kyle. "If you don't know what something is, you can't be got last on it. And I don't know all those p words y'all are saying." "A prosthesis is like an artificial body part, Jus. Like an artificial leg or arm or something like that," I said. "Another name for 'rubber' is prophylactic." "I need to see those two words written down," Jus said. "Not right now. We got skiing to do," Kyle said. They all went upstairs to get changed, all except Justin and Brian, that is. They hung back. Brian got the note pad that was next to the phone, and he wrote something on it to show to Jus. I knew Brian was showing him those two words, and I had a mini love surge for Bri just then. There were too many of us for us all to get in the boat to pull skiers, so we waited on the dock. Trixie got in the boat with Kyle, Justin, Rick, and Chris, but Krewe stayed on land with the rest of us. Brian had finally broken Trix of jumping in to go after every skier who fell or simply ended his run by sinking into the water, but Krewe wasn't old enough yet to have that kind of discipline. Kyle was driving the boat, and Rick and Jus were in the water and were going to teach Chris how to ski. It took a few false tries before Chris got up, but he finally did it. His first run didn't last very long, but he took a second run right away and skied for the full fifteen minutes Kyle usually allowed a skier. "Damn! That is so much fun," Chris said when he got back on the dock with us. It was Dave's turn to ski, and he would be followed by Paddy. Paddy had been up on the water skis a few times already that summer before Chris and Dave got there, but he wasn't really as good as the others yet. It took Dave a little longer than it had taken Chris to learn, but he finally got up, too. "He's not good at sports," Chris said in defense of his brother. "He can't help it." Dave finished his run, and Paddy went out. "You're pretty good at sports," Tim said. "You're kidding, right, Tim?" Chris asked. "No, I'm not. Name a sport you've played since you've been here that you haven't either won or almost won," Tim said. "I almost never win when I shoot pool, but you've won several times. You even beat Kyle." "I think Kyle let me win," Chris said. "No, he didn't, Chris. He thinks that's dishonest, and he doesn't do that. He has damn sure never let me win, or anybody else that I've seen him lose to," Tim said. "For real?" Chris asked, looking at me. "For real, Chris," I said. "Have you guys played strip pool yet?" "No, but I want to," Chris said. "I want to do everything you guys do." "Get Kyle to organize a game of strip pool, Chris," Brian said. "And just hope he doesn't grow his own cue stick." We all laughed. "What do you mean by that?" Dave asked. "We were playing one time, and Kyle lost all his clothes. He got a hard-on," Tim said. "It's been a joke in the family ever since." Dave got a slightly worried look on his face, and Brian noticed. "Dave, if it happens to you, shooting pool or swimming or shooting baskets or something, nobody's going to make fun of you for it, Bubba. The only reason we tease Kyle about growing his own cue stick is he took a shot with his dick," Brian said. "Oh, I didn't know that," I said. "That puts things into a whole different perspective, doesn't it?" "You didn't know that, Kevin?" Brian asked. "No, I didn't know that. What did he do, get up on the table or something?" I asked. "No. The cue ball was against the rail, and the ball he was shooting at was just a couple of inches down from it. He stood on tip toe and did it," Brian said. "Did he make the shot?" I asked. "Yes, he did," Brian said. "Kevin, Kyle and Justin do all kinds of stuff when it's just us, and you and Rick are not around," Tim said. "One thing they both do when we're shooting pool is take their dicks out and dangle them in the pocket the other one is trying to make. That's usually when we're playing Eight Ball and it's the winning shot of the game. I've seen each of them do it, and every time it rattled the shooter so much he missed a pretty easy shot." "Well, that doesn't seem so terrible," I said. "It's not," Brian said. "They don't do bad things. I mean, things that you would consider immoral or anything. They just do funny stuff, Kev." "I hope it's not dangerous stuff," I said. "It's not," Tim said. I wondered if Tim and the other boys had the same standard for what was dangerous as I had, and I suspected they didn't. I mean, having your dick slammed by a pool ball traveling at x-number of miles per hour wasn't exactly safe, in my opinion. "They never drive after they've had something to drink," Brian said. "Tim and I always drive, and they don't hassle us about it, either." "I knew that," I said. I wondered about when they were out with their friends and Tim and Brian weren't along. Justin went out with just Chuck sometimes, and with Chuck and Tony, and he had gone out a few times with some other guys from work, too, without Brian. Kyle went out with Philip and Ryan all the time, and with other friends, occasionally, too. "Kyle and Justin don't drink when they have to drive, Kevin, if we're not with them," Tim said. "Believe me on that, Bubba. I know that's what you're worried about, and I can see it on your face. And they won't ride with somebody who's been drinking, either. You don't know this, Kev, and they'd probably both be pissed off if they knew I told you this, but they've each called us more than once to come get them because the guy that was driving had been drinking." "They've call late at night?" I asked. "Yeah," Brian said. "That's what cell phones are for." That truly was a load off my mind. That was the kind of thing Rick would never think about, but I was the worry-wart of the partnership, so it was my job. I was glad to know they had worked it out. Kyle wanted to teach Chris how to drive the boat, after the three newest family members had skied. Chris, of course, was excited. It suddenly occurred to me that one of the things Kyle and Chris had in common was the ability to get excited over the most mundane occurrences and to enjoy to the fullest absolutely everything they did. That was a real gift, I thought, and it added to the fun the rest of us had. Chris did okay driving the boat. After it got too dark to ski, we went back up to the house for a snack. They had all worked up a bigger appetite than usual, and Kyle and Rick brought out a big tray of cold cuts and bread, lettuce and tomato slices, pickles, chips, and a big bowl of potato salad. We made sandwiches on the floor in the den. "Can we give the dogs a nibble?" Chris asked. "No! Absolutely not," Dave said. He was vehement. "God! Okay! Bite my head off, why don't you," Chris said to his brother. "You can't feed a dog table scraps, Chris," Dave said, slightly more conciliatory in tone. "Okay, David. That's all I wanted to know," Chris said somewhat patronizingly. Uh-hunh, I thought. They're brothers, all right. "Chris, have you ever done any bungee jumping?" Kyle asked. "Like from a bridge or something?" Chris asked. "No. Well, yeah, but we have five or six bungee jumping places here. It's from a tower, not a bridge," Kyle said. "No, I haven't," Chris said. "Would you like to?" "Sure," Chris said immediately. "Kyle, I don't know about that," I said. "Kevin, we do it all the time. Nobody's going to get hurt," Kyle said. "I'm not fragile, Kevin. I've just put in fifteen months of intense body building. I'm not going to break," Chris said. "Babe, he's not going to break," Rick said. "Do you think it's okay?" I asked Rick. "Yes, I do, Kev. He's not going to break. Unless he refuses to wear the harness, of course. And even then he probably wouldn't break, with that huge airbag they have at the bottom," Rick said. "Wouldn't you guys rather shoot pool or play ping pong?" I asked. "No! I want to jump," Chris said. "Kevin, your big brothers are supposed to let you do stuff your parents might not let you do. Come on." "Well, it really is very safe," I said. "I've done it several times, and it's okay. I was just concerned about the impact of the harness on his chest and bones and all." "God, almighty, Kevin! This boy has as much upper body muscle as you do," Justin said. "More, even." That wasn't true, but it was a point well taken. He wasn't skin and bones anymore, by any means. "Okay, then. Let's go. But if anybody pukes, do it outside on the grass, not in the car, you hear?" I said. They all laughed. Bungee jumping was fun. Pure terror, and that's what boys loved. It was nine o'clock at night, but it was still hot as hell. The sea breeze was coming in, and we were all in minimal clothing--tank tops and light cotton shorts. But it was still very hot. Coming down during his jump, Chris lost his wallet out of his back pocket, and everybody scrambled to get the wallet and its contents before they blew away. "Damn, that was fun!" Chris said. He had an erection, and it was tenting out his shorts. Justin noticed, of course. "What is this thing all about?" Justin asked. Chris blushed. "Don't you damn blush around me, you pussy-packer," Jus said. "I'm just a little bit excited," Chris said. "That's all." The two of them were laughing. "I can tell. Hell, the whole damn world can tell. Fix it up straight or something, before we get out of here," Jus said. Chris laughed, but he reached down into his shorts to make his erection less noticeable. "That happens to Kyle all the time, Chris," Tim said. "He gets erections watching football games, basketball games, just about anything that's tense and exciting. Don't worry about it, okay?" "Thanks, Tim," Chris said. They were all damn sure going to take care of Chris, in whatever way they thought he needed taking care of. We got some ice cream cones after the bungee jumping, and then we decided to play a round or two of goofy golf. "Goofy Golf" was Emerald Beach's name for putt-putt, and that was fun. I noticed that Dave and Denny were pretty palzy-walzy that night, and they were cute together. They were the same size and pretty much the same age, and they were very much the same kind of bookish kid. Interesting, I thought. "It's 11:15," Rick said. "It's time we went home." The boys didn't dawdle in the den that night. They were tired from skiing, bungee jumping, and playing goofy golf. Rick and I were both asleep that night before our heads hit the pillows. * * * Friday morning of the first week they were here, all the boys were at the breakfast table, as usual, except Denny and Dave. "I'll go get them," I said. Dave didn't really have to be up until it was time for him and Brian to be at Mr. Mack's place to train the dogs, after Brian went to summer school, but Denny had to be at work on time. Denny's room was on the second floor, and Dave was sleeping in one of the third-floor rooms. I went to Denny's room. I tapped on the door, but there was no response. "Denny, I'm coming in," I said, opening the door. There was still no response. I went into the room, and Denny and Dave were both there. They were naked, and the sheet and spread were kicked off. They both had erections, but that was just morning wood. I noticed dried semen on both of them, though, and the bottom sheet was soaked. Some of it had dried, but it was still wet in a big spot between them. "Wake up, Denny," I whispered, shaking him a little. I didn't want to wake Dave. "You've got to go to work." He was incredibly cute coming out of sleep. When he finally woke up, he realized what the scene was, and he was embarrassed. "Kevin!" he said in a whisper. "What? Get up. You've got to go to work," I said. "It's not what you think, Kevin," he said. "Oh, yes, it is," I said, grinning. He blushed deeply. "Yes, it is," he said, and he grinned, too. "I'm not going to say anything. This is your private life, Denny. You know that what you do in private stays private in this house," I said. "Don't you think he's cute?" Denny asked. "I think he's incredibly cute, but I think you're incredibly cute, too. But it's time to get up. Take a shower. You need one. Breakfast is on the table, and don't make the others late having to wait for you," I said. "Yes, sir," he said. Denny was downstairs in less than ten minutes. Apparently, his approach to hurrying up was to not dry himself after his shower, but that was okay. Nobody was the wiser. He didn't get to finish his breakfast, though. "The price of love," I said, as he was scraping half his breakfast off his plate into the garbage. He grinned. What a cute kid, I thought.
Brian and I had hit it off good when they came to see us in Montana the summer before, and I really liked him. He had helped me accept the fact that I was gay and that it was okay to be gay. I loved Brian, but he seemed like a grown-up to me. I mean, he wasn't really that much older than I was, but I knew he loved Justin. There wasn't anything I could do about that. That school year had been sort of hard for me. I mean, Chris got most of the attention from my parents because of all the progress he was making in physical therapy, and all. I felt really bad that I wasn't more excited about that, but I wanted them to focus more on me. I had liked being an only child. Another thing that happened that year was my dad became a full professor and got tenure. He had already written one book and a bunch of research articles, but his second book came out that year. There was a lot of hoopla about that in my family and among their friends. I had come out to my family that I was gay right after the Florida guys left at the end of the summer, and it was almost a non-event. I mean, my parents didn't care, and Chris thought it was cool. So there I was. A victim of physical therapy and tenure and tolerance. Sheesh! Even though I had a strong support system at home, I wasn't about to come out at school. I had a friend that I thought was gay, too, but he and I never talked about it. That boy was definitely somebody I could get sexual with, but we just didn't have that kind of friendship. I mean, I thought he was gay, but I didn't know for sure. I wasn't about to come out to him until he came out to me, and that just never happened. When we went to Emerald Beach, though, I knew I was going into a nest of gay boys. I was sure Chris had mentioned Denny to me from emails he had gotten from them, but I hadn't really focused that much on him. Not at all, really. He was kind of a surprise, in fact. But what a nice surprise he was. He and I, along with Tim and Brian, were sort of a foursome. Not a sex foursome, of course. Just four good friends. But Tim and Brian had boyfriends, and they were already best friends. The more I got to know Denny, the better I liked him. Seeing the others naked in the pool was fun, but only a few times right after I got there had seeing them caused any reaction down below. Denny was an exception, though, and I always started getting aroused when I looked at him. As the days went by, I started thinking about Denny when I masturbated. One night we were both in his bedroom, lying on his bed, reading. I could feel his arm touching my arm and his leg touching my leg, and I was fully erect. I couldn't concentrate on my book, I was so horny. We finally both put our books aside and started talking. "You don't have a boyfriend, do you?" he said. "No. Do you?" "I've had a few dates with a boy, but we aren't boyfriends or anything. We're just friends, really. Best friends, in fact," he said. "Have you ever done it?" "Done what? Had sex?" ' "Yeah," he said. "No," I said. I was scared to death of having sex. I mean, I thought that was a guy sticking his penis into my rectum, and I wasn't interested in that. "I have," he said. "Brady and I kissed and hugged, and then we both came. We've done it a few times. I've even touched his penis. And he's touched mine." "Is that what gay guys do for sex?" I asked. I didn't know much about gay sex. "Yeah. I think some guys do butt fucking and all, but Brady and I don't do that," he said. "I want to kiss you," I said. "Okay," he said, and we kissed. "Do you know about tongue?" he asked. "No," I said. "Just do what I do, okay?" he said. "Okay," I said. He taught me how to kiss with tongue that night, and that was awesome. The next night, we took it further, and he touched my erection through my clothes. "Do you want to sleep with me tonight?" he asked. "Yes," I said. "Let's sleep naked," he said. And that was all it took. We rubbed against each other, kissed each other, and finally made each other come. I guess that was pretty tame, compared to what the others in the house were doing, but I felt so good. I knew that Denny and I weren't in love, but we really, really liked each other. I also felt like I wasn't a virgin anymore, and that mattered to me. I knew my brother hadn't been a virgin for a long time, and now I wasn't one, either. I didn't know if he and I would ever compare notes, but at least I had that on him. |