Lewis and Clark

I noticed him because we were the same age, and, well, there were few enough people in town that I pretty much had to. He was slender, on the edge of scrawny, and he stood out as one of those kids that was always just a hair off. His looks were normal enough- unruly brown hair, a few freckles across the bridge of his nose, but it was the eyes that hooked me.

I think it's his eyes that tip you off. Blue, but that totally unreal shade like you get on that first spring day when all the fucking birds are chirping and the bugs are buzzing and all you can smell is sun-warmed, damp earth. And you can see it, that little wobble in his mental orbit, right through them.

When we were kids, I just read it as the usual new kid in town stuff. He never outgrew it, though, which was just fine with me because frankly, I've always been a bit off myself. We understood each other, and our exchanges were always filled with half-spoken shorthand and gestures like we'd been born twins.

After puberty hit, the physical resemblance was lost. He stayed smallish, almost delicate, but not so much that he couldn't kick your ass for saying it. I've always been a bit taller, but I just kept getting broader until my shoulders were a good foot wider than his, and when I came back from my first summer at the military camp the difference was permanently etched in my new, rippling chest muscles. A lot of shit changed that summer.

Of course we'd been jerking off together since we figured out how the old skin flutes worked. Hell, we were in the ass end of nowhere, it's not like there was anything else to do but whack it and drink, and both are... enhanced by the presence of somebody else. It was a short hop from that to whacking each other off (which every guy on earth has done, I don't care if they claim otherwise), but it was never a big thing, just something to pass the long, boring weekends.

We were both hardcore skirt chasers- and pretty hard up, too, but what the fuck do you expect when there's only 20 girls in your class? Thank god for the porn superhighway that is the internet- when it hit town, we were two kids who'd just been handed the keys to the candy store. Added some variety to the wanking, with pictures and the 40 year old guys pretending to be 18 year old stripper cheerleaders who'll chat you up in a heartbeat. Sometimes we'd pretend to be the chicks and sit hunched over the keyboard, whacking furiously and cackling while we described luscious breasts and perfectly waxed pussies. It was the perfect fuel for the flames of adolescent desire.

I should have caught it sooner, but I was so excited at the prospect of getting the hell out of Dodge that I missed half of the unspoken conversation that spring. He was quieter than usual, and he always had his head cocked to one side with that half-confused, half-sheepish look he hid behind whenever a girl caught him looking.

I'd turned 18 in the fall, but we saved the good party for his birthday in the spring. Careful planning and oblivious parents allowed us to stockpile a truly massive amount of booze, and word spread quickly that his house was the place to be that weekend. The first real hint of trouble came that Friday afternoon, after his parents left for a conference on how to pay more attention to your troubled teen. We were down in the basement moving couches and setting up the stereo and he was getting pissy with me over everything.

I ended up yelling at him to go the fuck upstairs and wank until he was fit to be around people again. At that, he stormed upstairs. I could hear doors slamming all the way up to his room. Shit, what was wrong with him? Here we are, 18, with a cellar full of booze, a bunch of questionably legal cheerleaders on their way over, and the makings of a damned fine party, and he's locking himself in his room?

I grabbed two beers out of the fridge and headed up to talk some sense into him. Evidently he'd taken my suggestion literally, because after I picked the lock on his door I saw a glimpse of naked, pink flesh on his screen before he closed the window and glared at me.

"Dude, what the fuck?"

"Maybe I don't feel like having a party just so those assholes from school can pretend to like me as long as there's free booze."

"So charge admission, then."

"Oh ha fucking ha. Look, maybe I just want a quiet weekend, ok?"

"Ok, whatever, so we can just hang out and no party. You want a beer or what?"

"Yeah, sure. And who said you were invited, you fucking wanker?" He grinned.

"Oh, yeah, I'm not the one who locked himself in his room just now. Lemme see the naked girlies, asshole."

"Yeahno."

"Oh I think you're sharing some of that marvelously well organized porn collection, my friend." And with that I lunged across his lap to open the last image he'd had up.

Two muscular young men filled the screen, limbs tangled in an unmistakable 69.

Well, shit. That certainly explained a lot. I looked over, and he was sitting rigidly in the chair, staring at a point somewhere beyond his wall.

"Hey, man, we all have our weird shit. I, frankly, would sell my left nut for a decent, non-grainy shaving video." No response. "Besides, looking at it doesn't make you gay."

His breathing sped up and he made eye contact, finally. "Yeah, but wanting to try it probably does."

My cock gave a little jump at the image of him, kneeling in front of me and sucking for all he was worth, that flashed through my head. No graceful way around a confession now. "Well, I've tried it. And I'm sure as hell not gay."

"What?"

"You heard me, fucker. You think we're gonna sit all summer at camp and just whack off, with no women within 100 miles except some cigarette smoking, support-hose wearing obese lunch lady serving up extra gravy? Yes. I have let a dude suck my cock."

He tilted his head to the side the way he had so often lately. His face was unreadable, and then his jaw set and he reached out for my belt buckle. My breath left me in a hiss when he managed to unfasten everything and his mouth hovered an inch in front of my rapidly tenting boxers, unsure. I pulled them down rapidly and rested a hand on the back of his neck, nodding.

I was so hard it hurt, and I held onto a thin edge of control as his initial fumbling turned into a damned fine blowjob. We'd managed to get one or two apiece out of the "loose" girl at school, off in the trees behind the football field, and he seemed to be applying her technique for the most part. I usually kept my eyes closed and concentrated on the sensation, but I had an insatiable urge to watch this particular cocksucker. Holy christ, it was every bit as hot as I imagined, seeing that unruly hair and just a flash of his blue eyes as my dick slid in and out between his lips. I wasn't sure he was ready to swallow, so when the visual and the feel of his tongue wrapping around me pushed me past the breaking point, I pushed him away. He looked hurt for a split second until my orgasm exploded over me and I sent ropes of sticky white cum sailing over his shoulder.

He stood up, making eye contact with the head tilted again. I was looking forward to returning the favor and was starting to kneel in front of him when he stopped me. We locked eyes again, and I could see the lust and fear as clear as day, and the wobble. For some reason that's what made me draw him towards me and lower my lips to his. Kissing another guy was entirely new to me- we hadn't done it at camp, because that was "too gay"- but driving my tongue between the same hot lips that had just been wrapped around my dick was fucking beautiful. One of us was whimpering softly as I held him tight and tasted every corner of his sweet mouth. I could feel the trouser snake stirring again, but first I owed my friend a favor.

I slid a hand down between our bodies until my fingers were brushing against the tight bulge in his jeans. The moan that escaped his throat begged me to skip the teasing I'd planned, so I knelt in front of him and proceeded to rip layers of fabric out of the way. His jeans were pooled at his ankles, and I eased the waistband of his briefs over a hard-on that sprung out a fraction of an inch from my nose. God, but it was a thing of fucking beauty. It still amazed me that the scrawny little fucker was bigger than me. I set right to work on the monumental task in front of me, sliding my lips over the crown and circling with my tongue.

I'd never been the best at this sort of thing, but by god I was going to give the finest head I'd ever given tonight. I couldn't take all of him in, but I wrapped my hand around the base to supplement the motion of my lips up and down his shaft. I wished that I had a clearer view of the look on his face as I worked my way up and down, his eyes half closed and mouth half open with the occasional soft sigh or grunt escaping. A few flicks of my tongue to the spot just under the crown, along the ridge, and he suddenly tensed and shot his load down my willing throat.

I knew I had to kiss him again, and let him taste himself on my tongue. He tried to push away at first but I was relentless until I captured his mouth again and slid a tongue covered in his own cum into it. After the initial reluctance our tongues were dancing around each other again as he learned to like the taste and seek out every last drop in my mouth. I realized after a while that I had twined my fingers through his hair, and smiled. God.

We were both hard again by now, crotches desperately grinding against each other. "Anything else you want to try? Because," I stopped to capture his mouth again; the swollen lips were driving me crazy, "I think that maybe you should try fucking me in the ass." He looked at me.

"Dude, are you sure? I mean, that shit's supposed to hurt."

"Yeah, it hurts a bit. But I bet you feel a lot better than my sister's hairbrush handle that I use when I'm jacking off."

His face went unreadable again, and I knew he was considering it. He turned away. I started to flip out. If I'd crossed the line and he bolted, this was gonna be one long, uncomfortable summer. But he reached into a drawer to pull out a tube of massage oil and I grinned. Quiet weekend my ass.