Wanting Beauty

**Note from the author: This is my first attempt at writing an erotic story, though this is my second draft of it. My sincere thanks to the patient feedback and helpful suggestions neuroparenthetical offered this virgin of a writer; any mistakes in this story are mine. While this is primarily a gay love story, it also includes heterosexual sex and attraction; some parts may be more appealing to whomever finds this than others. It is a personal story and offered with love for the community at large, whatever your identity, even if you haven't settled on one. That said, I hope you enjoy it, identify with it, feel it, and respond.**

Wanting Beauty

Chapter 1: Infatuation

Marshall was a gawky teenager. He dressed like a nerd, wore glasses, and had endured the worst of puberty while also wearing braces, ensuring he would never draw the eye of the beautiful girls he went to school with. He pined his way through high school as one of the caste that wonders at intimacy and compensates with energy. He was sustained, in part, through the poetry he wrote, crafting form and meaning to the world while occupying the schism.

He was kept in tact by his friends. They laughed at his jokes. They indulged his drama. He was the youngest of this chosen family and they were his guidance. Through them, Marshall defined himself: earnest and silly, immature and profound, and seeking. He spent every minute with them, from hang-outs during lunch, to sleepovers with video games, to just carousing about aimlessly with the freedom of youth and a car.

At 17, as Marshall graduated, he was, essentially, still a child.

That summer, Marshall met Trinity, who had just returned from Japan, where he'd been stationed as a military translator. Trinity was the younger brother, though slightly older than Marshall, of Marshall's friend, Cliff, who Marshall often hung out with after school.

On first meeting Trinity, Marshall immediately pressed him with all of his personality, convinced they would be friends and caught up in the excitement of proving that. Trinity, in turn, responded with intense sincerity of his own: talking with Marshall about his poetry late into the night, bonding with him over a shared love of music, and unabashedly being close to him. To Marshall, their relationship felt instantly special and boundless.

He saw the way Trinity acted around and with other people; it was different, even if those differences were subtle. Trinity outwardly seemed the calmest person one would ever meet, but Marshall recognized vulnerability. Trinity's eyes sparkled as he smiled, putting everyone at ease, but Marshall saw a hint of danger. Trinity was sexy and confident, effortlessly drawing every girl's attention to him, which only seemed to make his girlfriend more attentive in turn.

What came as a surprise to Marshall, one day, was that he, too, was feeling drawn in. Trinity looked enough like Marshall that at first Marshall assumed it was a sort of narcissistic fascination. He was lean, like Marshall - though Marshall was taller - but his muscles showed more; he had messy, dark hair, same as Marshall, but his seemed more styled; his eyes were dark and deep, seeming to bore into Marshall from universes within, while the darkness in Marshall's eyes glinted with light reflected.

Trinity was a blazing beacon in Marshall's orbit and, before long, Marshall found he was intractably lost in their moments together.

Trinity laughed when he saw Marshall trying to smoke a cigarette before sympathetically helping him do it without looking like a fool.

Trinity stood up for Marshall when Marshall seemed to drag everyone down with his emotions.

Trinity told Marshall he was beautiful.

Marshall remembered that moment. Marshall would always remember that moment.

Trinity was bold and Marshall was eager to follow.

By the end of that summer, as Marshall turned 18 and prepared to move away, Trinity had become central to the desperate poetry of his soul.

Chapter 2: The Adonis Belt

As exciting as the independence and promise of college was to Marshall, he made it a point to return every weekend to visit his friends - especially Trinity - to share the music of the moment or the new poems he'd written, falling back into the comfort of eager jokes as they whiled away time just being with each other.

Sometimes he would stay with Cliff and Trinity, once opting to sleep beside Trinity in his bed. Marshall's heart thundered with Trinity lying beside him, both of them in their boxers, as Marshall considered the moment, restraining himself from moving an inch. While he lay there, he felt Trinity scoot closer, almost spooning him. The sensation elicited a war in Marshall's head between frozen terror and overwhelming peace.

Anyone might see us! Marshall thought, but then was impressed with how cavalier Trinity had been. Is he awake? Is this no big deal to him? Can he feel my heart thumping and sense my secret thoughts? Trinity had read Marshall's poetry, talked with him about everything, and had studied him as thoroughly as Marshall had studied him in turn. Was I overconfident in thinking I could know him so fully and hide part of myself?

But Trinity's closeness, whatever his motivation, subdued Marshall's anxiety steadily, allowing him to love the moment and add it to the confusing, volcanic torrent of his emotions.

When Trinity and Marshall's friends visited him in his college town, Marshall shared his bed with Trinity, too. He had an excuse, he thought, since it was just a dorm and there were only two beds, but he knew his friends made assumptions. It doesn't matter, Marshall thought. Only this matters - this truth. This excitement.

Even the excitement of watching all the girls Marshall knew gravitate towards Trinity's cool charisma was fulfilling. He watched as Trinity lay on his bed with a cute redhead who declared for the whole room - all of whom must have known Marshall's interest - that she loved the indented lines that ran over Trinity's hips down to his pelvis, tracing one with her fingers. I have those, too, Marshall thought jealously, but acknowledged seeing them on Trinity was somehow more erotic. Another image for later, he admitted to himself.

That night, as Trinity lay beside him, Marshall discreetly took in Trinity's hairless, lean body again, searching in the darkness for those lines as they slid out of sight, under his boxers. Marshall felt the coolness of his own cum pooling in his boxers, before he turned and closed his eyes, letting the night end.

Chapter 3: Do You Mean It?

On one of Marshall's visits back into town, Trinity asked him to check out a video. When Marshall came into the room, Trinity played a video close-up of a dick being vigorously jerked off. Marshall turned away, disgusted. "What the fuck, Trinity?" he asked.

Trinity shrugged and asked, "So you didn't like it?"

"It was just some dick," Marshall replied. "God. Well, moving on, are you ready to go?"

On their somewhat awkward drive, silence lingered for a moment as Marshall considered what had just transpired. Trying to sound funny and totally not serious, Marshall broke the ice "I often times think it'd be easier to just be gay. It's hard to understand what to do with a pussy." Marshall turned towards his friend, smiling, "Now cocks, on the other hand... I've had a lifetime of experience."

"So you're not gay?" Trinity replied seriously.

"I mean..." Marshall's heart quickened, desperate to sneak in a clue that it was only Trinity's cock he wanted. "I haven't tried it. I think it'd be easy, though. To suck one, I mean. But that doesn't mean anything." Marshall was out of breath as he finished, still trying to keep his cool, looking straight forward, feeling Trinity looking at him thoughtfully.

Trinity's posture and silent consideration always left Marshall feeling exposed, ready to dart away or confess anything, and there he leaned, back against the door, in his seat, as if to zoom out on Marshall. Nothing more was said of that for the rest of the night. He and Marshall got high together back in his room and talked, instead, about music and truth and all the beauty of moments all through the night in their customarily invigorating way.

That night, in the silent darkness of consciously trying to put themselves to sleep, Marshall's mind raced alongside his heart, going over their day again, trying to discern what Trinity was thinking, and if Marshall had somehow failed the moment as clumsily as everything else to do with Trinity. Feeling emotionally fraught, and still coming down from his high, he felt Trinity shift and lean towards him.

"Did you mean what you said?" Trinity whispered, another of his friends sleeping in just the other room.

Marshall felt the intensity in Trinity's eyes even as he barely could see him, gambling on the unspoken suggestion and replying as calmly as he could. "Yes."

With that, Trinity reclined onto his back, sliding his boxers down just below his thighs, exposing, in the blue light from outside, the outline of his erection. It's bigger than mine, Marshall thought as he looked at it. Its head was huge, like an imperial helmet. Trinity, impatient or nervous, looked at Marshall and moved his hand behind Marshall's head, guiding him closer. Marshall snapped out of his reverie and allowed himself to slowly close in on it, clumsily trying to produce saliva while he mechanically held it upright and took it in his mouth.

Trinity immediately groaned his gratitude, still trying to remain quiet, but encouraging Marshall by stroking his hair while Marshall tried to think what would feel good. He swirled his tongue around, trying to produce more saliva; he slid his tongue along the throbbing shaft; he suckled the tip, pushing more saliva under his tongue and sucking it back gently while flicking his tongue over it. Marshall's own cock was throbbing, too, as he moved between the intellectual assessment of what he was doing and the eroticism of the moment. He listened to Trinity's soft, heavy breathing; felt the smoothness of the dick in his mouth; knew it was Trinity's; took in how heavy and wide it felt in his mouth; and noted how long it took him to swirl his tongue around it. Marshall pushed his thoughts away as they occurred to him and tried, simply, to just let the moment be, without his definition. This is just a meaningless favor between friends, he repeated to himself. I can pretend.

Trinity's grip on Marshall's hair tightened for a moment, and Marshall could feel his saliva becoming thicker; he assumed he had drawn some cum out. Marshall tried in vain to identify what it tasted like; he found that every taste, and smell, and touch were all blending together, forming some gestalt memory that Marshall was certain he would jack off to later. It tastes like... sweat. Like a gluey candy that - no. It tastes like pheromones. That doesn't make sense, Marshall argued with himself, not yet yielding the moment as over. He was enjoying these senses even while he was having a hard time focusing.

Eventually, Trinity gently pulled himself away. "That was it. Thanks," he whispered, then rolled over to sleep.

Marshall lay there insecure all over again. Was that it?

Chapter 4: Fulfillment

Marshall struggled for days after that, allowing the obvious moment between he and Trinity to go undiscussed, but obsessing over how he could do it again, and whether Trinity liked it - liked him.

One Autumn night, Marshall was driving Trinity around a rural part of town, listening to music and talking through all the new and brilliant thoughts that these conversations inspired, when Marshall took the opportunity to broach the subject.

"I liked giving you a blowjob," Marshall said as calmly as he could, his heart beating uncontrollably. "Sorry if I didn't do it well."

Trinity laughed and continued looking out the window. "That's a cool street name," he said, pointing at the signpost illuminated by Marshall's headlights reading 'Moonlight Dr.' He turned back to Marshall, the picture of nonchalance. "Will you blow me right now?"

Marshall looked back at Trinity and nodded, pulling over to the side of the abandoned road and turning off his car. Trinity shrugged and pushed his seat back while sliding his pants and boxers all the way off. Trinity was already hard, the skin of his thick shaft pulsing as it pulled taut and smooth over his ambitious endowment. Marshall took in the sight of him - his mouth wetting instinctively - and tried to match his apparent calmness by leaning in and sliding his fingers against it.

Trinity gripped the back of Marshall's head and pulled it down to him; that time, however, Marshall determined to take it slower. He started by simply licking it with as much wetness as he could muster. Trinity's cock twitched back and forth as Marshall moved across it, sucking the tip and then releasing it to continue lubricating his bulging shaft.

"That's good, Marshall," Trinity said, pushing his head down impatiently, as Marshall felt his own erection beg eagerly to take part.

Marshall filled his cheeks with saliva and opened his mouth just enough to run his lips over Trinity's hot helmet as it sunk in. He broke the process into steps as he worked up his speed, pulling it in, swirling his tongue around it, then dropping his mouth down, keeping Trinity's cock moving as he worked it. He felt Trinity lifting himself further in, keeping his hands pressing down on Marshall's head, insisting he take it all. He gagged in the attempt, his lips parting for a moment while he sought air. Saliva and cum bubbled out of Marshall's mouth before he wrapped his lips around Trinity again, out of breath but determined. This time, he allowed it to hit the back of his throat, gulping and pulling as it did, and felt Trinity's muscles tighten as he flexed his hips upward with all his might. Marshall swallowed the gag and kept at it, sloshing his tongue back and forth along Trinity's eagerly pulsating, heavy shaft, keeping his mouth in place and gripping the back of Trinity's hips to steel himself.

Trinity groaned and shuddered as he erupted straight into Marshall's throat, which he drank easily. He parted his lips again for air before another hot blast slid down. Trinity kept groaning, his whole body insisting Marshall not move, as he spilled again and again into his mouth. It was dribbling over Marshall's chin and onto his carseat at this point, but he dutifully kept at it, hoping the sensation of swallowing would make Trinity all the more euphoric. Marshall, himself, quietly orgasmed in his pants.

"Damn, Marshall," Trinity huffed, smiling. "That was amazing."

Marshall reluctantly let Trinity slide out of his mouth before Trinity quickly lifted his pants back up and covered himself. Marshall was disappointed it was over, but he was also hopeful. He enjoyed it, he thought. I made him come. Next time I hope I don't have to ask. I hope he just pulls out his cock and tells me to blow him. The audacity of it thrilled him.

Chapter 5: You'll Feel It When You Pee Next

The next time came on another drive they shared, equally out of the blue. Marshall had driven Trinity home, but they lingered in the car in his driveway. Without saying anything, Trinity pulled his pants down again and Marshall immediately moved, without saying anything in response, to blow him.

The experience was still new, but their tacit arrangement made it feel perfunctory. Marshall savored Trinity's smooth, fat dick in his mouth and feeling Trinity's whole body guide him through the process. They rocked together in rhythm, Trinity thrusting and relaxing his groin while Marshall's tongue sloshed waves around him. It was the height of Marshall's erotic fantasies but also repressed in some way, deprived of the profound meaning he needed in his relationship with Trinity. Still, he thought, considering how easy and natural this intimacy with Trinity felt, it's nice. He idly wondered why people didn't swallow. That experience - feeling Trinity tense, feeling each spasming blast of thick heat into his mouth and oozing down his throat - was, he decided, the best part.

Well, maybe not what I'll be jerking off to later, he thought, bringing himself back to the moment, there with Trinity. He returned his attention to memorizing every ridge along Trinity's length and the prominence of his velvet, rubbery head. This is what I'll be dreaming of tonight.

As Trinity finished, Marshall greedily kept slurping his cock, even as it drained and softened, until Trinity's hand reached under Marshall's chin to lift his eyes to look up at him. He nodded, but then turned to look out the window, as if struggling to confess something. Marshall pulled back, thinking he'd done something wrong and that he'd lost interest.

Trinity, still looking out the window, said, "I want to know what it feels like."

Marshall wasn't sure if he understood Trinity, but his erection guessed, and it was nodding eagerly.

Looking back at Marshall, then down at his bulge, Trinity said, "I want to blow you, too."

Marshall was shocked, but recovered after a beat to push his seat back and slide his pants and boxers down, too. Marshall was not as big as Trinity, he knew, but he hoped it looked good enough - that Trinity would like it.

"Did you already cum?" Trinity asked, observing how wet Marshall's tip was. Trinity smiled faintly and then leaned down to lick Marshall's shaft and kiss his tip a few times before sliding it into his mouth.

Marshall felt the roof of Trinity's mouth, the sides of his cheeks, and all the hot softness he applied with his breathy saliva. Marshall's dick quivered but he steeled himself, promising he would not go out that easily. He felt Trinity's lips gingerly wrap around him, and felt the sloppy, intense sucking Trinity applied to his suddenly-too-sensitive dick. Marshall separated the sensations from the thoughts that raced through his mind as he looked down and tried to focus on just Trinity, fully engaged on him, his cheeks flexing and moving, his eyes only narrowly opened in the darkness.

Marshall's heart softened looking at him, then pounded all the harder as he kept repeating to himself in a whisper, over the warm, wet sensation twirling around his cock, "Trinity. Trinity. Trinity." Marshall ran his fingers through Trinity's soft hair and stared at him as he somewhat logically decided he'd taken up enough of Trinity's time and let himself release. Marshall clenched his eyes shut involuntarily, hand still in Trinity's hair, as he thrust forward along Trinity's tongue to release again. He felt the ice cold sensation of euphoria, as if lost in space and floating away, as his spurts turned to dribbles and he relaxed back into his seat. Finished, Trinity ran the back of his hand along his lips and leaned back while Marshall pulled up his pants.

"You'll feel it when you pee next," Marshall awkwardly said in attempt to reassure and connect. "I mean, it'll feel more forceful."

Marshall was describing blue balls, he realized, mixed with the cum that lingered in the tip being forced out with the pee. He wasn't sure why he said it. The constant erections I have thinking of you, he should have said, how much my body yearns for you; I always feel it after. And the sensation brings you back to me. Instead, he'd said, "You'll feel it when you pee next." Sigh.

Trinity's face and tone were inscrutable to Marshall as Trinity replied, "Oh yeah?" before exiting the vehicle and heading inside.

Chapter 6: Eyes Forward

A narrow, darker vision settled over Marshall's eyes as time wore on. Every chance to see Trinity felt like a chance to get away with something new and daring - something that involved Trinity's cock. Their deep conversations were discarded as unnecessary pretext, their plans always the cover for what Marshall imagined was the moment of truth. He proudly accepted his all-consuming lust as a truer, free commitment to sincerity, but the simple truth was that Marshall was addicted to Trinity.