1980s Prom Tale

He giggled, "Sorry, Timmy. I'm not usually so clumsy. Or so ticklish." He giggled again and I realized that despite the fact that he wasn't falling anymore, I hadn't let go of him. And I was kind of squeezing. Oops. I reluctantly let my hands drop limply, but my dick was the farthest thing from limp.

He tossed the notebook on his bed but remained just inches in front of me. He dropped to his knees and we were eye-level with each other. He moved in close so our noses were three inches apart. Our eyes were locked. He said, "Your eyes. They're two different colors. I noticed years ago, the first time we met, but this is my first look up close. They're fascinating."

I gulped stupidly and wordlessly. I have a blue eye and a green eye. It's by far the most interesting thing about me. Otherwise, I find the man in the mirror to be boring. Whenever someone notices, it becomes a whole conversation. Soon, everyone around is staring at my eyes. It usually ends up with me turning crimson red in embarrassment from the intense scrutiny and unwanted attention. But right at that particular moment, most of the blood in my body was concentrated on my raging hardon. Blushing was not an option.

Ricky took my chin between his thumb and index finger and tilted my head, "They're amazing." I fought to not look away.

I swallowed, "I've never seen eyes like yours before either. They're grey. Most people have brown or blue or hazel eyes. Yours are totally awesome. I'd trade with you any day."

He laughed and let go of my chin, but remained kneeling in front of me. He picked my right foot up off the floor and set it in his lap as he sat back on his heels. "I forgot to mention that this is a no-shoes house. My mistake." He tugged at my shoelace and untied my white Nike high-top sneaker. He did so slowly, like this was a moment to cherish. He wrapped one hand around my calf and the other around the heel of my shoe. He pulled in opposing directions and my foot slid out free. I can obviously take my own shoes off, but somehow, in that moment, I was frozen still.

I was quickly unfrozen when Ricky began stroking my freshly freed foot up and down my sole. He mentioned that he was ticklish just a minute ago. Me too. I got real nervous, real fast. But he didn't tickle me. He gently rubbed, caressed and massaged my foot. Like a complete idiot, I sat there saying nothing, save for a few embarrassing moans of pleasure. When he switched and pulled off my left high-top, a big humiliating hole in my sock at the ball of my foot was revealed. Ricky grinned and slipped his finger inside, swirling around my arch on the bare skin. That did tickle and I tried to wrench my foot away, but he grabbed me by the calf and held on tight.

"Sorry," he said. "That was way too tempting. I couldn't resist." He smiled again.

And I couldn't resist his smile. It made me feel like a blob of jelly, lolling in his desk chair. When he finished my left foot's massage, he set my foot down and knelt upright again. Once more we were eye to eye. He raised a hand and glided his knuckles gently down the side of my face. I began to tremble and he took my hands in his. My hands were clammy. His were warm and dry. He said, "Take a breath."

I inhaled and it felt good. I hadn't realized that I'd stopped breathing. Fortunately, Ricky did. He squeezed my hands, "Timmy, this is a safe space. You can do anything you want here. You can do everything you want here. You can also put your shoes back on and walk out of my room and out of my house. The choice is yours, though I really hope you don't choose the latter."

I took in another deep breath and my shaking subsided. I smiled at the cute boy kneeling in front of me between my knees as I continued to hog his desk chair. I straightened my back, grabbed a fistful of his shirt and pulled him even closer still. I was more than a little surprised by my own boldness. I guess I'd chosen. He matched my smile and my heart skipped several beats. Our noses were three inches apart. Then two inches. One inch. None. And then he kissed me.

Wow, did he taste good. He wasn't minty fresh or anything; he was just Ricky. He tasted exactly like I imagined he might, and surprisingly different at the same time. At first, it was just lips. Small pecks that slowly evolved into lingering grazes and nibbles. Then little licks. He licked my lips then I licked his. He kissed my nose, then I kissed his nose and his chin. He kissed my chin and cheek and I kissed his cheek and his forehead. He kissed my forehead and my ear and I kissed his ear and his neck. And then our lips reconnected. This time harder. Deeper. His tongue parted my lips and stroked my teeth. He put his hands in my hair and held my head as he dove in deeper still. His tongue found mine and despite it being February, I felt like it was the Fourth of July.

I slid my hands under his shirt and found his sides again. This time, he wasn't falling and he didn't giggle from my grasp. His skin was so smooth and warm. I never knew skin could feel so good. My hands explored higher and he shivered. He was still kissing me so relentlessly that I could hardly tell what I was doing. I managed to snake my hands around to his back and my fingertips glided up and down his spine. He immediately sprang goosebumps everywhere and we both smiled. I brought my hands back around front and started undoing his shirt buttons. I figured he liked that by the way his grip in my hair tightened and his tongue made its way half way down my throat. I nudged his shirt off his shoulders and felt it slip down his back when he released his grip on my head for just a second.

With our faces stuck together I used my hands like a blind man to explore my now shirtless friend. I touched his neck, I traced the contours of his shoulders, I trailed his sternum, I grazed his armpits, I kneaded his pecs. The kissing only intensified. My hands traveled lower and he trembled when I reached his stomach. Smooth and lean, I stroked my fingers back and forth and a fresh round of goosebumps popped all over his skin. I played with the waistband of his underwear that was clinging to his frame just above his jeans. It was all such a surprise. I wasn't sure how far we were going to let this go. I didn't want to do something wrong, so I waited for a signal. When he leaned into me and I felt his raging erection through his designer Girbaud jeans, I figured that a literal, real-life signal was as good as any. I nodded and so did he.

He pulled my red Coca Cola sweatshirt off of my body by the sleeves and we each took a moment to look each other over - two shirtless guys, sharing a first time together. My eyes took in what my hands had already seen. He was spectacular. Every inch of his skin was smooth and inviting. I was fascinated by his topography. The contours of his shoulders, his biceps, his collar bones, his pecs, his rib cage, his abdomen, even is jutting hipbones were a spectacle. This was nothing like gym class. I'd be on team skins with Ricky anytime. Over our three plus years of friendship, I'd seen Ricky shirtless a few times, at the pool or the beach, but this was different. Better. Up close and in private. I wanted to explore and discover every square inch of him with first my eyes, then my hands and finally my tongue. And by the look in his hungry grey eyes as they danced all around my body, he liked what he was seeing too.

He took my hand and led me over to his bed. Still standing, we each stepped out of our jeans. There we were. Two eighteen year old virgins wearing only socks and boxers. Boxers with matching wet spots at the vertex of our matching erections. This time I put my hands in his hair and I invaded his mouth as his hands explored my body. I could kiss this boy forever. He guided us down onto his bed, me on my back and him on top. His mouth left mine and I tingled everywhere as he ravaged my neck. Then he kissed lower. And lower. And lower. When his tongue invaded my belly button, I let out a little yelp of joy. He followed my treasure trail until the trail ended. I didn't know how or when it had happened, but I realized that I wasn't wearing my boxers anymore.

A strong hand gripped my steel rod and I gasped from a sensation I'd never before felt in my life. The touch of another. He started gently with light strokes and finger tracing. My hormone crazed body was primed and ready. Then he began gripping, squeezing, rubbing and twisting. My eyes rolled back in my head and more precum flowed from my dick like a leaky faucet. He used both thumbs in opposing circular motions below my mushroom cap and I was about to explode. Literally.

He whispered, "Not yet."

My heart dropped when he released me, but it gave me the opportunity to come back from the edge. After a minute or two, something else was happening. Something warm, wet and wild. I was in his mouth. His unpracticed, awkward mouth. It wasn't long before his technique began to improve. Ricky was a fast learner. Not that it would have mattered anyway. The most gorgeous eighteen-year-old boy on the face of the earth was paying the most special kind of attention to me. He could have been awful and it would still have culminated in the best orgasm of my lifetime. But, he was the furthest thing from awful. Taking all of me in would take practice and time, but on that day, he lapped me up like a melting ice cream cone in the summer heat. Was anything in the world ever meant to feel this good? How was this possible? This was beyond ecstasy. The right words didn't exist.

When I first felt an attraction for Ricky, I didn't understand what I was feeling or why. I thought it was wrong somehow. Something to shake off, ignore and get over. Those inappropriate feelings were why I never let us connect individually. But then, over time, I slowly came to realize that there was nothing wrong with me or my feelings. I am who I am and I like who I like. But what were the chances that he'd like me back? I would more likely be struck by lightning.

Lightning struck.

What had been happening here in this room for the last thirty minutes... How could this possibly be anything close to wrong? It felt so right. He worked my length up and down, side to side, hands and mouth. He had me right where he wanted me and he knew it. He knew I was close again. This time he only stopped long enough to shoot me a devilish grin before swirling the top of my mushroom cap with his tongue and pushing me over the edge. I couldn't hold back any longer. My fingers entangled in his hair as I exploded in his mouth. He swallowed every drop while my back arched and my toes curled.

Then I flipped him on his back and I greedily returned the favor.

I'd never touched anyone else's penis before. Hell, I'd hardly ever seen one that wasn't my own. Ricky's was a sight to behold. Fully erect and throbbing, his cock pointed toward his navel, ending just a couple inches shy of his cute innie belly button. It was smooth and beautifully imperfect as it had a slight curve and a bulbous head. I loved that it looked different than mine. It was somehow so very him. A perfect match to the rest of his gorgeous body. And it was raging hard. Any lingering doubt that Ricky wanted me as much as I wanted him was proven false by looking at the monstrous development in front of me. Just knowing that he was so turned on because of me made me feel important. I hadn't really even started yet but seeing me, touching me, anticipating what I was going to do to him... Oh, he was ready.

I stroked his testicles and his penis jumped before slapping back down on his stomach. I kept that going while I rubbed his steel rod with my other hand. He actually bit down on his hand to stop himself from screaming. I am no musician, but I played him like an instrument. I know that I hit some wrong notes at some wrong times, but I would get better. We would get better. And when I took as much of him in my virgin mouth as I could that first day and sucked like my life depended on it, Ricky didn't seem to mind that I was a rookie. Not while his whole body racked in violent orgasm with me not stopping until he had to pull me off of him.

We both laid there, flopped on his bed, all energy sapped from our flaccid, spent cocks and bodies. We were still wearing nothing but white sweat socks. Eventually I had enough strength to sit up and pull his feet into my lap. I needed him to be completely naked. I pulled off his socks and his bare feet were as cute as the rest of him. Not too hairy, not too boney. Well-manicured toenails and soft pinkish toe tips. I gently stroked his soles while for the first time in three-and-a-half years, I really talked to Ricky. Just us. Real stuff. Not the bullshit we already knew about each other, like sports, music, movies... We really talked. And while it eventually became obvious that the gentle foot rub I was giving him was having a re-energizing effect on more than just his feet, we also both sensed that there would be time for more of the physical stuff another day. Right then, we just couldn't stop talking. We ordered a pizza, got dressed and I stayed until I had to go home and go to sleep. Even asleep, I felt like I was still with him. I dreamed about Ricky all night.

So, once a week for the last three months, Ricky and I have gotten together at his house for thirty minutes of exploring Calculus and sixty minutes of exploring each other. We had a little foreplay routine. Every time I would pretend to forget that his house was a no-shoes house because he liked reminding me and taking my shoes off for me. And for him, I wore the sock with the hole in it every time. I would get a punishing little tickle that would evolve into a sensual massage that would evolve into... Well... Naked time. Not that there were any complaints about our magical first time, but we did both become more skilled quickly. Going deeper, avoiding teeth, lasting longer... Like everything else in life, practice makes perfect. And being with Ricky is pretty fucking perfect. The hole in my sock got bigger with each passing week and what began as a crush on a cute guy quickly turned into real feelings.

It was March when we realized that among our respective college lists, we had both applied to Champlain. It was a no-brainer that we would both accept their offer. And yes, we did work out that we will be roommates. But for now, that's our little secret.

~~

Prom night:

Presently, I take Ricky's hand and pull him into a slow dance. I kiss him again, this time without an audience. I tell the prom date of my dreams, "You took a big risk at dinner with your little game of footsie under the table. What if you miscalculated and found someone else's leg?"

He leans his forehead against mine, "If you weren't sitting across from me looking so damn cute, maybe I could have resisted temptation."

I scoff, "You're the cute one. You've got a Kirk-Cameron-Mike-Seaver thing going on tonight."

He gives me a playful punch in the arm.

"What?" I grin. "It's a compliment."

"Uh huh." We resume our slow sway as Never Surrender turns into Against All Odds.

I squeeze his hand, "Actually, I'm thinking Johnny Depp with better eyes."

He squeezes back, "You've got kind of a River Phoenix thing going yourself tonight, but with better hair."

Compliments make me blush. Especially from Ricky. "Were you in on this whole thing?" I ask.

"No. Ten minutes ago, Keith dragged me here to the choir room and turned me over to Chris who shoved me in here and told me to hide in the corner before locking me inside. I was starting to think I'd been kidnapped. Trapped in here until Monday morning. Only able to survive by drinking my own urine."

I laugh. "Just ten minutes and you're already looking for bottles to pee in?"

He laughs too, "I'm kidding, but I had no idea what was going on. I had no clue they'd figured us out."

I pull him in close. Hip bones touching and bellies pressed together, "Hey, I need to tell you something."

I can sense he knows I'm being serious now. He doesn't try to fill the space I leave with a joke. He just waits me out.

"I never really thanked you for taking that chance in your bedroom three months ago." I kiss him. "Taking that courageous first step," I kiss him again, "...was brave," another kiss, "...and heroic," another kiss, "...and the best thing that will ever happen to me in my entire life." This time our kiss doesn't stop until the song changes to Can't Fight This Feeling.

"It wasn't that big of a chance," he says when we finally come up for air. "I'd never had a hot guy in my bedroom before. You gave me a million little clues, so I made a move. When I stretched across you for a notebook that I didn't really need, you didn't back out of my way. When I pretended to lose my balance—"

"That was pretend?" I cut him off.

He chortles, "You know it was. And you didn't let me fall. You saved my life."

I snort. If saving his life means I get to put my hands on his bare skin under his shirt, then I'll be the brave hero every time. "What other clues did I give you?"

"You let me take your shoes off for you. When I began massaging your foot, you didn't pull out of my grasp."

"Your grasp is strong. I was your captive victim."

Now he snorts, "If that's the role you want to play later tonight, I'm totally in with you being my captive victim, but on that afternoon? No way. I gave you every opportunity to withdraw or to just say no. But when I studied your beautiful eyes, you held your ground. You studied mine right back. Our faces were mere inches apart. You held my gaze and licked your lips. I moved an inch closer and so did you. I might have made the first move, but you made it safe for me to do so."

"You were still brave."

"We were both brave."

Another kiss. "You know you aren't just—" I trail off.

"I know. Me too. You aren't just the boy I got curious with or experimented with for the first time."

I look into those grey eyes, "Same."

Billy Joel's This Is the Time comes on and I get a little choked up because the singer is right. Time is going to change and I don't want to lose him or this feeling.

Sensing my shift, Ricky says, "Three months from now, in Vermont, every night will be prom night. Our own private celebration."

"But without the fancy rented clothes."

"I much prefer Nike high-tops and gaping holes in old sweat socks."

I laugh. My mood has been successfully rescued.

"Although, that bow tie is a perfect match to your left eye."

I laugh again. "Do you realize that this is the first time outside of your bedroom that we've been able to be ourselves with each other?" I reach inside of his tux jacket and grope around his sensitive tummy. "I can do this to you."

He giggles and grabs my hands. "You know I'm ticklish."

"And I can do this," I kiss him again, this time with parted lips and we end up in a tongue-wrestling battle. As per usual, it ends in a draw.

Two more songs go by as we dance and kiss alone in the choir room. How many more songs can there be? Our time must be running out. Every Breath You Take follows Hungry Eyes and we can feel the air change in the room again.

Ricky sighs, "But we can only do these things because we're alone. Behind a closed and locked door."

This time it's me perking him up, "First of all, college in Vermont will be a completely different world from high school in West Virginia. Second of all, don't forget... Just a little while ago we kissed in front of Chris. That's kind of epically huge."

"But he's Chris. Your best friend. He loves you like a brother. They don't come any better than Chris and Keith."

I pull his hips against mine again, "So you're gonna tell me that a week ago you could have imagined that moment?"