Falling for David and Meeting Shari

David and I met when his family moved nearby a couple of years ago. Something just clicked and we became friends immediately. Most nights I went to his house and we did our schoolwork together and hung out in his bedroom afterwards. He worked the late shift as an assistant manager at a gym in a downtown hotel at the weekends, and I would meet him when he finished work and we would ride the bus home together.

One night when we were lying next to each other on his bed watching a movie, I asked him whether he thought we should get girlfriends.

"Why would we want girlfriends?" he asked.

"We're eighteen. Most guys have girlfriends by then. We've never had girlfriends."

"Not true. You told me about a girl you had a crush on at summer camp."

"That was five years ago," I said. "And all we did was hold hands."

"And I took Jane to a movie a few months ago," he said.

"She's your cousin."

"Cousins can date."

"You went out with her just once," I said.

"So why the sudden concern with girls?"

"I was just wondering if we were weird not wanting to have girlfriends."

"Doesn't seem odd to me. If we had girlfriends we wouldn't be able to hang out together all the time. They'd want our attention."

"Yes," I said. "That would be a problem."

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Every July, my family vacationed in the country for two weeks at a house on a small island on a lake. I told my mom and dad that I didn't want to go this year.

"Why don't you want to go?" my mom asked.

"I like being in the city in the summer. And if I'm here I can study harder for next fall's classes." I couldn't tell them that I didn't want to be away from David for two weeks.

My sister laughed out loud. "Okay," she said, "there's something fishy going on when you say you want to study."

"There's nothing fishy," I said. "I prefer being here than cooped up with an evil sister."

"Stop it you two," mom said. "You're coming with us. It's the only time of the year we're all together without you kids busy on your phones or the internet."

"I'll call when I can," I told David the night before we left, "but if it's like last year, the only cellphone signal is a two mile hike up the hill."

"I'll miss you," he said.

"And I'll miss you too," I said.

"Bye," I said, when he opened the front door of his house to let me out.

"See you in two weeks," he said.

I turned to walk away.

"Wait," he said. He took a step towards me and kissed me lightly on the cheek.

"Bye," he said, and went back into the house.

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Each night after dinner I walked up the hill behind the house to see if I could reach David. Some nights there was enough connectivity to speak, and we chatted until it began to get dark and I had to leave so I could see my way down the path back to the house.

Friday night he was at the gym and couldn't speak, so we texted.

"Busy night?" I asked.

"Not really," he replied.

"Boring then," I wrote.

"Yep. Although a guy asked me to come to his hotel room for a drink after I finished work."

"Did you say yes?"

"Of course not!" he replied. "He was really inviting me up for sex, not a drink."

"That might have been fun. What's his name?"

"Steve."

"Is he nice?"

"Yes."

"Good looking?"

"Yes, but being nice and good looking doesn't mean that I want to have sex with him."

"Maybe just go for the drink then," I replied, adding a smiley emoji.

He replied with a similar emoji and the message "back shortly."

"Had to deal with a broken treadmill emergency," he wrote after a few minutes.

"So not such a boring evening," I wrote.

"So would you have said yes to Steve's invitation?" he asked.

"Maybe," I said.

"Really?"

"Maybe. I mean, what's the downside? You go for a drink with a nice guy. If he also wants sex and you don't, you say thanks for the drink but you're not into sex with men and leave. And if you decide you do want sex then you stay."

"You always amaze me," he replied.

"??" I replied.

"Cause you're so much more outgoing than me. I'm always too cautious. You're always ready for adventure."

"You can be daring when you want to be," I wrote.

"Like how?"

"That kiss on my cheek."

After a few moments he replied with a blushing emoji.

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The days dragged on. I slept a lot, hiked all over the island, and swam in the lake, but I was counting the days to when we would pack up and head back home. I managed to speak to David a couple of times, but mainly it was texting, and I missed hearing his voice and laugh.

The night before we left, David was working at the gym.

"Heading home tomorrow!" I texted him.

"At last!" he replied. "When will I see you?"

"Likely Sunday. We won't get back until late Saturday night."

"I can't wait," he wrote. "I'll have so much to tell you."

"What?"

"I don't know," he replied.

"??" I wrote.

"'Cause it hasn't happened yet. But Steve asked me to go to his room for a drink tonight and I said yes."

"OMG!!"

"Just a drink, I told him."

"With a nice good-looking guy in his hotel room!! Anything could happen!!"

"What would you like to happen?"

"Good question. I'll have to give that some careful thought."

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I lay in bed that night thinking about what I would like to happen. I imagined various scenarios, most of which ended with a mental image of David and Steve naked on a bed together. The image disturbed me and excited me in equal measures.

The next day, on the road back home, I texted David as soon as I got connectivity.

"How was your date with Steve?"

"Nice," he wrote.

"Nice?!," I wrote. "Give me details!"

"When we speak," he wrote.

It was late when we arrived home. I texted him to ask if he was still awake.

"Yes," he replied. "Can you come over?"

I rode my bike the few blocks to his house. "Quiet," he said as we walked up the stairs to his bedroom. "Everyone's asleep."

We lay side by side on his bed, each propped on an elbow looking at the other.

"So what happened last night? Tell me everything."

"I finished at the gym, locked up, and took the elevator to Steve's room. I knocked, and he let me in."

"What was he wearing?"

"Gym shorts and a t-shirt. He had a bottle of white wine on the table. He asked if I drank wine, and I said yes, and he poured us both a glass. I sat down on the couch and he sat on the edge of the bed."

"And then?"

"He asked me why I had changed my mind and agreed to come for a drink. I told him that my best friend had asked me why I had said no the first time, and had made me realize that I had been silly to refuse."

"Did you tell him all of our conversation?"

"Yes. I told him that you had said that there was no reason not to go. It wasn't as if he was going to force me to stay if I became uncomfortable."

"What did he say?"

"He laughed. He said that you were right. That I should leave anytime I wanted, and that the last thing he wanted was to make me feel uncomfortable. Then we chatted."

"What about?"

"Just stuff. About school, about his work. He asked me whether I had a girlfriend. I asked him if he had a boyfriend. It was nice. I felt at ease with him."

"So that's all? You just chatted."

"No."

"So what more?"

"He got up to pour us some more wine. As he stood by the table pouring the wine, there was a big bulge in his shorts. His cock was hard! He saw me notice and was embarrassed."

"Wow! What did he say?"

"That he was sorry. That being in a hotel room with a cute guy made him horny."

"What did you say?"

"I said I didn't mind. He sat down, but I couldn't take my eyes off the bulge in his shorts. He laughed and said it wasn't going to go away if I kept looking. I said sorry, and he said that if I didn't mind his cock being erect, he certainly didn't mind."

"What then?"

"I asked him whether I could see it."

"What!" I said. "You asked him to show you his erect cock!"

"I guess the wine was having an effect on me, but I also had in my mind what you said. What's the downside? I've never seen another guy's hard cock in real life, and it seemed so big. So why not, I thought. He asked if I was sure that's what I wanted. I said yes, so he pulled off his shirt and shorts and sat naked on the bed."

"Amazing!" I said. "How big was it?"

"Very big. Much bigger than mine. Thick and with a plump head."

"Sounds beautiful," I said.

"That's what I told Steve! That it looked amazing."

"What then? Did you just look?"

"For a while. I was sort of transfixed by its size and hardness. Then he asked me if I would mind if he touched himself. I said I didn't mind, and he started stroking his cock."

"You watched him masturbate?"

"Yes, but he didn't last very long. He shot loads of cum over his stomach and hand. Spurt after spurt. I didn't realize anyone could cum so much. Then he lay back on the bed. We didn't speak for a while, just looked at each other. "

"Then what?"

"We spoke for a bit."

"What did you speak about? I mean, what do you speak about with a guy you've just watch masturbate?"

"I think he thought I would be shocked, but when he saw me smile, he smiled too. He asked me whether I had enjoyed the show. I laughed and said I had. He asked me if I was going to tell you, and I said yes, I tell you everything."

"And then you left?"

"Not immediately."

"Well, what happened?"

I saw him begin to blush. He lay on his back and looked away from me.

"Tell me," I insisted.

His face was bright red.

"Is it really so embarrassing?" I asked.

"Yes," he said quietly.

I shifted over to be next to him. "Ok," I said. "If it's so embarrassing, just whisper it in my ear."

He was silent for a moment, then began speaking.

"After a few minutes I said I should be going. I stood up, and he got off the bed to open the door to let me out. He was still naked and his cock was semihard. When he stood next to me, I had a huge urge to touch it."

"Did you?" I asked.

"Yes. I put out my hand and held it. We stood there for a few moments looking at each other. He asked me how it felt in my hand. Big and warm, I said. And I started stroking it. I stood there with his cock in my hand, feeling him get harder and bigger. I was masturbating him and the thing I most wanted was to make him cum."

"And did you?"

"Yes. He came over my hand."

"Then what?"

"He got a tissue from beside the bed and wiped his cum off my hand. Then he said thank you. And I left."

We lay next to each other, my face towards his. He looked up at the ceiling, unwilling to return my look.

"Please look at me," I said.

He turned to face me. Our faces were only about six inches apart. I could see tears beginning to form in the corners of his eyes.

"You know what I was thinking while I was with him?" he asked. "I was thinking how I couldn't wait to tell you about it. I wanted you to think I was as daring as you."

A tear started to roll down his cheek. I brushed it away with my finger.

"But when I had done it, I thought I wouldn't be able to tell you."

"Why?"

"Because holding his cock and making him cum excited me more than anything I've ever done. I thought that might change us. You knowing that I was turned on by having sex with a guy."

"It has changed us," I said.

"Really?" he asked. Tears were flowing down his cheeks.

"Yes," I said. "It's made me love you even more."

A smile started to form on his face.

"I missed you so much the last two weeks. Each day I was looking forward to the evenings when we could speak. I wanted to hear what you had been doing and tell you what I had been doing. I wanted to see your cute smile. I realized that I loved you and couldn't stand being away from you. And you telling me that you had sex with Steve so you could tell me about it makes me love you even more than I thought I did."

"That's unfair!" he said.

"What's unfair?"

"I had an earthshattering confession to make to you, and you come up with something even more earthshattering. You're so competitive!"

"Hah!" I said. "That's what the losers always say to the winners."

"I didn't lose," he said. "I won. I had sex with Steve and got you to tell me you love me. That's a win-win."

I leant forward and we kissed, gently.

"Now you're going to say that you kissed Steve while giving him a hand job."

"No," he said. "That was my first kiss."

"Second," I said. "You're forgetting the one when I left for vacation."

"I'll never forget that one," he said. "But this was our first kiss after we had told each other that we're in love."

"You haven't told me anything," I said.

"You are such an idiot," he said. "Haven't you realized how I feel about you? Did I have to put it down in writing? I love you and have done for a long time."

I put my arms around him and pulled him close to me. We kissed, deeply, again and again.

"I would have loved to have seen you with Steve," I said. "I'd love to have seen your cute face when you made him cum. I bet you had an adorable expression."

"So now I find out that the guy I love is a voyeur?"

I kissed him again.

"When you told me that you were going to his room, I imagined all sorts of scenarios, including you making love with him. I felt so jealous that he might become your lover, but they were all so exciting."

"Maybe next time I go to his room, I'll ask him if I can bring my boyfriend."

"There's going to be a next time with Steve?"

"He texted me this morning to ask if I was ok. I said yes, and he asked me if we could meet up again when he was in town next week. I said yes. And he asked me if I wasn't worried about him turning me gay."

"What did you say?"

"That I wasn't worried at all."

"I would love to watch you two together."

"Just watch?" he asked.

"Well, maybe he can watch us together first, then we can take care of him," I said.

"I can't believe we're talking about making out with another guy even before we've made out together!"

"We'll have to practice so we can put on a good show for him," I said.

"When do we start?"

"Not tonight. I want to spend a long time kissing and caressing you and learning how to make you moan, and I don't want to wake your family. We'll have a date and start practicing then."

"Make it soon please. Very soon."

I kissed him goodnight. "Sweet dreams, sweetie," I said. "I love you."

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I texted him the next morning. "Wednesday at 5 pm. Our first date."

"5 pm is a bit early for a date, no?' he replied.

"There's lots I want to do to you," I wrote. "We'll need lots of time."

"Where?" he asked.

"The hotel where you work. I booked us a room."

"But that's so expensive."

"Yes, but it's our first date and I want to make it special."

"Such pressure to perform," he said. "I'm nervous already."

"Don't' be," I replied. "Maybe I'll bring some wine. That seemed to work for Steve."

Wednesday evening, when we checked into the hotel, the woman behind the desk looked up my reservation on the computer. "You're in room 910," she said, handing me the card key. "A city view and a king bed." David was blushing as we walked to the elevator.

When we got in the room, I pulled the shades down to dim the light. David was standing in the middle of the room looking nervous. I put my hands on his waist and pulled him towards me and kissed him gently.

"How do we do this?" he asked. "I mean . . ."

I kissed him again.

"Here's what we do. We each take one of those white fluffy robes the hotel provides. You go to the bathroom and undress and put it on. I'll change here. Then we'll hang out and snuggle and see what happens."

I put on the robe and lay down on the bed. David came out from the bathroom and lay down next to me. We lay on our sides facing each other, our faces just a few inches apart, holding each other's hands.

"Thank you for getting us this room," he said.

I kissed him softly. "That's ok sweetie. I wanted our first date to be special."

We lay there, exchanging gentle kisses, and he gradually relaxed, and his smile returned.

"So do you think it's all around the hotel staff by now that I'm your boyfriend?" he asked.

I laughed. "Sweetie, I meet you every night you finish work. They surely think that already."

"You really think so?"

"Yes, but if there's any doubt, in future when I meet you I'll kiss you and hold your hand."

"I'd like that," he said. "I want people to see that I'm yours."

We kissed again, and again. David lay on his back and I propped myself on my elbow and leaned over him, kissing him deeply, my mouth pressing hard against his, our tongues exploring each other's. Then we looked at each other, smiling. His robe had opened over his chest and I folded it back further and gently caressed his chest with my hand.

"That feels wonderful," he said.

"Your body is beautiful," I said. I brushed his nipples very gently with my hand. He let out a soft moan.

"You like that?"

"It's amazing. It's like a pulse of pleasure running through my body each time you touch me."

I watched his face as I explored his chest, seeing the pleasure each touch of his nipples brought to his face. I squeezed them more firmly with my fingers and felt them get hard.

"How did you learn how to do that?" he asked, between moans.

"I researched how to make love to a man," I said.

"You're joking."

"No. Apparently ninety five percent of men don't realize that their nipples are an erogenous zone."

"Poor them," he said. "It's an incredible feeling."

"And they look so pretty when they're hard," I said. "So red too. They look delicious."

I kissed him on the lips, on the neck and on the shoulders, then worked my way down to his chest. I formed my lips around his nipple and flicked it with my tongue. His moans got louder and I sucked harder.

I spent minutes caressing and sucking his nipples. Then I knelt beside him and undid the belt of his robe and folded it back to expose his hard cock.

"So beautiful," I said.

"It's small," he said.

"It's so pretty. And you've shaved!" I ran my finger around his cock, but not yet touching it. "You're so smooth."

"I hoped you'd like it," he said. "I thought it looked . . . I don't know . . . prettier."

I smiled at him. "More feminine?"

He blushed. "Maybe."

"You are so, so, cute, sweetie," I said. "And such pretty little balls!" I held them in my hand and gently caressed them. I put my other hand on his cock. I kissed him as I started to stroke him, gripping him lightly and moving my hand slowly up and down the length of his cock. His own hands were on his chest, pinching his nipples.

His moans grew louder and longer. I let go of his balls and moved my hand back between his legs, seeking his opening. I began to caress it with my finger, gently at first, then, as his moans grew louder, more firmly, pressing my finger into him, fucking his ass with my finger as I stroked his cock.

"You like that, sweetie?" I asked.

"It's so wonderful!"

I watched the excitement on his face, waiting for the moment he would cum. His mouth opened wide, letting out a long loud moan, and his body tensed as he came, his cum splashing over his body as his cock spasmed in my hand.

I held his cock until his orgasm was spent, watching his expression slowly relax as the tension in his body subsided. Then I let go of his cock and kissed the tip of his nose.

"You are so cute when you cum," I said.

He smiled at me. "That was amazing," he said.

I lay down beside him, my face next to his. "I love you and I want to do amazing things to you. I want you to be constantly horny imagining what I might do to your body."

"I didn't know I could get so turned on," he said. "The pleasure just grew and grew and grew."

"More turned on than when you masturbated Steve?" I asked, smiling at him.