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Summer of 1984

Category: Gay Male
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My grandfather emigrated from Austria in 1919. He had four sisters, but he was the only boy.

He married my grandmother in 1940. Unable for whatever reason to have children of their own, they eventually adopted a girl (Mary) and a boy (Peter), and each of them in turn had a boy (John Mark for Mary; Matthew (me) for Peter) and a girl (Elizabeth for Mary; Joan (my sister) for Peter).

I was the youngest of the four grandchildren. I had always looked up to John Mark, who was 6 years older than me. He was a stud. He was tall and muscular, his body honed by years and years of soccer (He had played varsity soccer as a high school freshman, and he went to Creighton on a soccer scholarship; everyone but his family called him “Striker”). He looked like Scott Baio, the guy from “Happy Days” and “Charles in Charge.” Same profile. Same nose. Same smile.

John Mark was the big brother I never had. He may have been a huge dork or geek to his friends, but he was a god to me. I adored him. When I was with him, I spent all of my time trying to impress him and to mimick him.

Growing up, we spent the month of July on our grandparents’ farm (our sisters spent the month of June there). Since it was only the two of us, he did not have to pretend to be annoyed to have a younger cousin trailing after him like a hungry puppy. We watched Rin Tin Tin and the Lone Ranger. We walked the levee. We skipped rocks. We played chess and wiffle ball. We jumped into huge piles of hay in the loft. And, unfortunately, we worked the bean fields.

John Mark turned 16 in 1975. I was 10. I didn’t know it then, but that was our last July on the farm together. The next summer, he got a job so he could get a car, and I spent the month alone. I missed him terribly.

Memorial Day

Even after John Mark stopped going to the farm, he’d still spend the summer holidays with me and our grandparents at their river cabin, fishing and hunting snakes on the Gasconade River. My grandparents shared the cabin’s only bedroom, and John Mark and I slept on the living room floor.

When John Mark got married at 24, his wife (DeeDee) joined us for those weekends. They shared the living room floor, and I slept on the couch. Sometimes, they’d wait awhile and then call my name. When I didn’t answer, they’d fuck. I’d listen and quietly jerk off, imagining I was DeeDee and John Mark was fucking me.

The morning of Labor Day 1983, I awoke to the sound of them fucking again. I slowly turned my head so they wouldn’t know I was awake. The sheet covering them had fallen to John Mark’s ass. He was up on his arms, and I was at the perfect angle to see between them. I watched his big, hard dick slide in and out of her as she gasped and moaned and grabbed his ass. I was so mesmerized, I didn’t notice John Mark looking at me. When I did, he smiled, winked, sped up, and started making faces at me. I had to stifle a laugh, but I watched until he drove into her as deeply as he could and collapsed onto her.

Later that day, John Mark and I were on the dock fishing when he asked “Did you like the show this morning?”

I was embarrassed, and I immediately apologized. “Nothing to be sorry for, Matty. We were fucking right under your nose. I figured you’d wake up, but I didn’t care. I wanted to fuck. I don’t get it as often as I should. I’d have watched if I were you.”

“It was pretty cool.”

“You ever fuck anyone?”

“No,” I lied. I was 18. Of course, I wasn’t a virgin. I had fucked and been fucked.

“You’re a good looking kid. You will soon. And, when you start, you won’t want to do anything else.”

The “kid” stung a little, but John Mark was right. I was a good looking. When I look at pictures of myself at 18, I see a strong resemblance to Zayn Malik, the dark haired guy from One Direction. I had black, curly hair; dark – almost black – eyes, with very long and thick lashes; a slender, small nose; big, full lips; straight, white teeth (after two brutal years of braces and head gear); and a swimmer’s body (I had swum for my schools for years). I also had a nice dick, with black curly hair that trailed up to my navel. The rest of me was virtually hairless.


DeeDee stayed home pregnant and nauseous Memorial Day, 1984. I was glad. I liked her, and I really liked listening to them fuck. But, I liked having John Mark to myself even more. When DeeDee was at the river, John Mark had to do married shit like go for 1-1 walks, go for 1-1 swims, and otherwise spend time alone with her. When she wasn’t there, it was like we traveled back to the farm Julys, and got the warm feeling of being a little brother again. We played wiffle ball and jarts and backgammon and chess.

We also returned to sleeping on the floor together. As we settled in on Friday night, John Mark pulled his shorts and then his underwear off and put them on the arm of the couch, within arm’s reach. I had watched him do that when DeeDee was there, but I just assumed it was so he could fuck her once I was “asleep.” I didn’t think he’d do it when she wasn’t there.

There was no way I was going to be able to fall asleep with him naked next to me.

“Are you excited about the baby?” I asked.

“Not really. We’re young. And, being pregnant sucks. DeeDee’s sick all the time, and she never wants to fuck. We haven’t had sex in four months. and I bet we won’t until after the baby is here and she heals back up. It’s like being 16 again. All I do is jack off. Speaking of which, I’m going to jack off right now.”

He stopped talking as he started stroking his cock. He pulled the sheet down as he got close to coming, so he wouldn’t get cum on it. It was dark, and I couldn’t see anything. But, I could hear his hand and his breath speed up. I finally heard the familiar exhale and grunt as he came.

I played ignorant. “Did you really just jack off?”

“Yeah. Didn’t you?”


“You should have,” he said as he used his underwear to wipe the cum off his chest and stomach.

I played innocent. “It’d seem weird to jack off with another guy.”

“Have you never been part of a circle jerk?”

“I don’t even know what that is?”

“It’s when you and your buddies sit in a circle and jack off together. Sometimes, you race to see who finishes first. Sometimes, you dawdle to see who finishes last.”

“You’ve done it?”

“Yeah. Both in high school and in college.”

I had not lied about that part. I had never been part of a circle jerk. If I was ever in one, we’d to have to race to see who finished first, because I’d come really fast if there were a bunch of guys jerking off around me. It’d be like live porn.


John Mark and I spent the next day on the river. For the first time ever, I got high, as John Mark taught me how to smoke pot. We ended the day skinny dipping near the sand bar. When we were done, we laid on the beach to sun dry.

John Mark had a nice dick. It was about five inches soft, but thick, with folds of skin under the head. He also had nice, big balls. I wanted to touch him, but I knew better.

I flipped to my stomach to hide my growing dick. I was pretty sure John Mark had caught me gazing at his meat and knew why I had to flip over.

When we settled on the floor that night, John Mark raised his hips and removed his shorts. I didn’t know if had he had removed his underwear, too. He could have not been wearing any or he could have removed them both in one swoop, taking his underwear with his shorts.

I wanted to find out. When I thought he was asleep, I reached my forefinger over, touched his side, and slowly traced down his hip bone to his thigh. There was no underwear.

“What are you doing?” he asked, startling me.

“Nothing,” I lied.

“Lie,” he declared. “Now answer, what are you doing?”

“I was trying to see if you still had your underwear on?”

“Why do you care if I still have my underwear on?”

“I don’t.”

“Another lie,” he declared again. “If you didn’t care, you wouldn’t be trying to find out. So answer, why do you care?”

“I don’t know.”

“Yet another lie,” he declared again. “Since you’re struggling with lies, maybe I can help you with the truth. I think you wanted to know if I had any underwear on because you wanted to touch my cock. You wanted to on the beach, but you were too chicken to do it. So, you were going to wait until I’m asleep, and then do it. Like a pervert.”

“No, I wasn’t,” I lied.

John Mark shifted, grabbed my wrist, and pressed my hand to his surprisingly hard cock. “There it is. Feel it if you want.”

I yanked my hand away. “I don’t want to.”

“Yes, you do,” he said, grabbing my wrist and returning my hand to his cock. “So, go ahead. Feel it. Squeeze it tight.”

I gripped him in my hand. His cock was so thick I couldn’t get my hand all the way around it. John Mark still had hold of my wrist, and he started moving my hand up and down. He wanted me to jack him. When it was clear I was not going to let go, he did, and I started jacking him on my own. I couldn’t believe what was happening.

As I did, I whispered, “John Mark?”


“Can I suck your cock?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Are you sure?”

There was a long pause. As each second ticked by, I felt his resistance ebbing. “I haven’t had my cock sucked in a really long time.”

“I’ll do it. I don’t mind.”

“You sure?”

“I’m sure.”

“Okay,” he relented. “Go ahead. No pun intended.”

I slid under the sheet and between his legs. His crotch smelled like river and sweat.

“Make sure you don’t use your teeth,” he cautioned.

“I know what I’m doing,” I said. I couldn’t see his reaction, but I’m sure my confidence surprised him.

I went to work. I licked the precum off his slit and licked all around his head before taking him in my mouth. I worked down his cock as far as I could, which was not to the base. He was too big. I slowly sucked him, going a little deeper with each stroke. I cupped his balls with my left hand and stroked him with my right, using it to extend my mouth to the base of his cock. I got strong suction and a good rhythm going.

John Mark started to buck his hips to meet my rhythm. His balls started to clench and sweat.

“Oh, Jesus, I’m gonna come, Matty, I’m gonna come,” he said as he bucked his hips harder and exploded. It was too much, and cum ran out of the corners of my mouth. I sucked as much as I could back in and swallowed it all.

I sucked him until it was clear I had to stop. I pulled off and lowered my head to his thigh. He tousled my curly black hair, like he always did. I fell asleep between his legs.

When I woke up, the room was faintly light, I was still between John Mark’s legs, and his cock was hard again. I took him in my mouth again.

“Hurry up,” John Mark urged. “Before everyone wakes up.”

I took him as deep as I could and sucked him as fast as I could. I got the suction right, added my hand, and went at him hard.

“‘Fucking hell,” he said, as he convulsed into a crunch and came in my mouth. I kept sucking, again draining as much cum from him as I could. I licked and nibbled at his glans until he sucked air between his lips, raised his legs, and forced me to pull off.

I climbed up out of the sheet and laid my head back on my pillow. John Mark stared straight up, rubbing his hands across his face and through his hair before tucking his hands behind his head. “Jesus, Matty, where’d you learn to do that?”

“Billy Jack.”

“The stoner down your street?”


“Well, tell him I said ‘thanks.’ I needed that. DeeDee pretty much stopped sucking my cock when we got married. I’d rather get head than fuck.”

“Have you ever gotten head from a guy before?”

“Actually, I have,” he said, shocking me. “Once, at Creighton. A party went late and off the rails and 5 of us ended up drunk and in bed together, 2 chicks and 3 dudes. One of the chicks was stupid hot, and I had been working on her for weeks. I wanted to fuck her. Bad. She was on top of me. We were making out. I moved under her so I could suck her tits and then so I could eat her out. While I was eating her out, someone started sucking my cock. It was dark, but, since the other chick was lying right next to me getting fucked by the second dude, it had to be the third dude sucking my cock.”

“Wow, that sounds hot.”

“It was.”

“Did you come in his mouth?”

“No, I wanted to fuck that chick, and I wouldn’t have been able to if I let him make me come.”

“Did you fuck her?”

“Yep. It wasn’t worth the effort I’d put in. It was like fucking a bucket of water. I’d have enjoyed it more if I had just shot in that dude’s mouth.”

I am not sure John Mark knew it, but I was jacking off through my underwear to his story. I came in the waist band of my briefs. As I did, John Mark grabbed his gym shorts and slid them on.

“Do you always sleep naked?” I asked.

“Sure. I started because I wanted to be ready if DeeDee ever gives me the tap. She hardly ever wants to fuck, so I need to be ready. Now, I can’t sleep any other way. I feel trapped if I try to sleep in my underwear.”

“The tap?”

“Yeah, you know, the middle of the night tap tap tap on the shoulder that means ‘fuck me,'” he said, tapping my shoulder as he did. “I want to be ready to roll any time she wants to fuck, because she hardly ever wants to.”

“You fuck a lot when you’re here.”

“Yeah, it’s weird. If we are anywhere else, I usually get some. But, at home, she usually tells me just to jack off.”

“I want to have sex all the time.”

“Me, too. So did DeeDee, until we got married. Once she got that ring, it was like she was doing me a favor. Once she got pregnant, it became a non-starter.”

“Can I tell you something without you getting mad or grossed out?”

“It depends on what you tell me.”

“You have to promise,” I insisted.

“Fine. I promise.”

“I like getting fucked,” I admitted.

John Mark rolled onto his side, raised up on one elbow, and looked down at me. “You’ve been fucked? Like, in the ass?”


“Billy Jack?”


“Are you a fag?”

It was 1984, and the world was different than it is now. No one cared if use of the word “fag” offended an actual gay person, and it certainly wasn’t going to offend anyone else. And, the world saw things in black and white. You were either gay or straight. The Kinsey scale existed, but sexual fluidity was alien.

I did not know if I was a fag. I had fucked and been fucked by Billy Jack, but I was also fucking Julia, my sister’s best friend. I liked all three. Not equally, but some days, I liked each better than the other.

“No, I don’t think so.”

“But, you’re a total liar. You told me you had never fucked anyone.”

“I didn’t want you to think I was a whore. I’m only 18.”

“Who cares? I wish I had started fucking at your age. I didn’t get laid until I was a junior in college. I feel like I’m behind and, now that I’m married, I’ll never catch up.”

“Do you think DeeDee will get back into it once the baby drops?”

“I hope so. But, one of my buddies has a kid, and he said his wife is now almost sexless. It’s just baby baby baby. She lets him fuck her every once and again, but not often. And, not for very long. They even call it ‘wham bamming’ instead of ‘fucking’ or ‘making love.'”

“Seems bleak.”


“I don’t know why anyone wouldn’t have sex if they could.”

“Agreed. But, I don’t think women like getting fucked as much as we like fucking them.”

I enjoyed our talk. And, I had used it to lay the groundwork for what I wanted that night.


John Mark and I spent the day on the river again. After breakfast, we fished for bluegill. Fishing was better before the heat of the day.

After lunch, we cruised the banks, hunting for snakes sunning themselves on branches or logs. We killed about a half dozen, for no reason other than because we could. Looking back, it was barbaric.

As we had the day before, we ended up back at the sand bar, skinny dipping and smoking pot. John Mark was in about knee deep, his back to me, his arms spread wide. He was soaking up the sun, which was silhouetting him. He had no body fat. His back was lean and muscular. From soccer, he still had a round ass and thick legs. At 6’4″, he was 6 inches taller than me.

Almost on cue, he turned around. With his arms spread, every muscle in his chest and stomach showed. The area between his pecs was covered with the same sandy blonde hair that hung almost to his shoulders. It gathered in a trail that led down his stomach and to his crotch. This was long before trimming became a thing, and John Mark’s bush was long and thick, like his cock, which was hard. Just as I got a good look at it, John Mark back flopped into the river and started backstroking across it. As he did, he yelled “periscope down” and, laughing at himself, lowered his hips and cock into the water.

We stayed at the sand bar until it was time for supper. We both sat in the back of the boat as we headed back up the river. John Mark opened the motor, the bow raised, and we skimmed as fast as we could into the current. My grandfather would have killed us if he knew, as we were leaving a tremendous wake and, if we hit a log, would certainly go flying out of the boat.

But, we didn’t. We just skimmed along, yelling “woo hoo” as we did. As we slowed and pulled to the dock, John Mark tousled my hair. “Great day, Matty,” he said.

He was right. It had been a great day. I was hoping for a better night.


As soon as we were settled on the floor that night, I reached over and “tap tap tapped” John Mark’s shoulder.

“What’s up, Matty?” John Mark asked.

My mouth was dry with anxiety, but I choked out, “I thought that was the signal for ‘fuck me.’ I want you to fuck me.”

John Mark raised up on his arm. Incredulous, he asked “You want me to fuck you?” hitting both the “me” and the “you” for emphasis.

“I do.”

“I don’t fuck guys.”

“Just because you haven’t doesn’t mean you don’t,” I observed, smartly. “And, I’m not ‘a guy.’ I’m Matty.”

He pulled me into him. “Still, I can’t fuck you, Matty.”

Playing off the Life cereal commercial, I suggested he wouldn’t know if he liked it if he never tried it.

“I’m not going to try it with you, Matty.”

I was disappointed, but I was also headstrong. “Can I suck your cock instead, then?”

“Well, that seems like a pretty fair compromise to me,” he said, laughing and opening his legs to me. I scrambled between his legs and started working his cock. Every time I felt his balls clench, I pulled off and let his orgasm retreat. Finally, he said, “Matty, you gotta let me come.”

“I will,” I said, “but only if you let me ride you.”

“Come on, Matty, just finish me off.”

“Can I ride you?”

He didn’t respond. Again, I felt his resistance ebbing with every silent second.

“Can I ride you?” I asked again.

“I didn’t say ‘no’,” he responded. Which meant yes.

I spit in my hand, smeared the spit all over my ass, and hovered over his dick. I had been fucked before, but getting John Mark’s cock inside me was going to take a fair bit of effort. I slowly lowered myself onto him, pausing and adjusting when I felt like I couldn’t take any more. When I was down as far as I could go, I started clenching my ass muscles around his cock and slowly riding it.

“Oh, fuck,” was all he said as he quickly filled my ass with his load. I climbed off, and we fell asleep without talking about what had just happened.

When I woke up about three hours later, I tried the tap tap tap maneuver again. This time, there was no resistance. John Mark rolled into me, I spit in my hand and lathered my ass, he spit in his and lathered his cock, and he fucked me missionary style.

“Hook your arms under my knees,” I insisted. When he did, it raised my ass off the floor, and he slid all the way in. “Wow,” was all he said as he bottomed out and started delivering all he had.

I felt deliciously full, and John Mark’s accelerating rhythm took me over the edge. I came without touching myself. John Mark come as soon as I did. He fucked me until he was soft and then he collapsed onto me.

When he rolled off, he rubbed his face and ran his hands through his hair again. “Jesus Christ, Matty, that was unbelievable.”

“Better than fucking a woman?”

“I don’t know about ‘better.’ But, certainly tighter. And, I couldn’t believe I could go all the way in.”

“So, you liked it?” I confirmed.

“Sure. What’s not to like? Your ass is smooth and tight and warm.”

“I liked it, too. A lot.”

“Really? It doesn’t hurt?”

“It hurts a little at first. But, then it’s like magic.”

“Well, I am a magician with my dick,” he said, tousling my hair.


Monday was our last day on the river. I woke up before John Mark. He was spooning me, and I could feel his morning wood in my backside. I pushed back into him.

“Easy, Tiger,” he urged.

“Just once more, before we go, please.”

“My mind is saying no, but my cock is saying yes,” he said, pushing his erection into me.

We were already in position, so I just rolled my left leg over my right and waited for him to enter me. John Mark forced me over the rest of the way, kneeled between my legs, and dropped a large dollop of spit into the crack of my ass. I opened my legs and myself as much as I could, and he pressed into me smoothly. He was up on his arms behind me, in the same position he’d been in when I’d watched him fuck DeeDee. I used my ass to work his cock. He hit my button, and I insisted he “stay right there.” He slowly ground me up, leaving my ass weak and wrecked when he drove in as deep as he could and filled me with his wet warmth. When he was finished, he lowered himself onto me, covering my back with his sweaty chest, and kissed the back of my head.

Gramps drove us home. John Mark and I were in the backseat of his 1977 Chrysler New Yorker, a beast of a car. I reached over and took John Mark’s hand in mine. It was rough. He worked as a mechanic at his father’s shop. It’s all he had ever wanted to do. He had screwed around at Creighton and headed right back to his father’s shop once he graduated. I liked the feel of his hand, which was much larger than mine. I gave it a squeeze, and I got a squeeze back. I put my head on his shoulder, he tousled my hair, and I fell asleep. I slept most of the drive home.

Fourth of July

My grandparents crushed me when they told me there’d be no weekend on the river for the Fourth. My grandfather had shingles, and he was in too much pain.

I had really been looking forward to it. I didn’t think DeeDee would make it, and I wondered if John Mark and I would pick up where we had left off six weeks before.

I had graduated, and my parents had a small barbecue for my dad’s side of the family to celebrate (my mom was a native Virginian and her family was all still there). DeeDee and John Mark were there. Pregnancy and her small, thin frame made DeeDee look like a snake that had swallowed a golf ball.

Of course, John Mark tousled my hair when he showed up. It was becoming clear that I was always going to be the baby, no matter that I was 18 and a graduated. That he (and he rest of the family) dwarfed me didn’t help.

After cake, John Mark and I played catch in the yard. “Hey, Matty, I’ve been batting around an idea in my head. I know it won’t be the same without Granny and Gramps, but what do you say you and I head to the cabin for the 4th?”

My heart leapt. “Seriously? That would be awesome.”

“I can’t leave until after work on Friday and I have to be back for work on Monday, but we’d have all day Saturday and most of Sunday on the river.”

“I’ll have to get clearance from the ‘rents.” Although I was 18, they constantly reminded me that, so long as I lived in their house, I had to live by their rules.

“Okay, let me know. . . .” I ran toward the house before he could finish and as John Mark let go of the ball, sending it sailing past where I’d been standing.

My dad said he and my mother would have to think about it. They did not like the idea of John Mark and me being “unsupervised.” My plaintive “He’s almost 25 years old and about to be a father” was met with stolid “yes, so maybe he should act like it and stay home and help his wife.”

I was not optimistic, and I glumly told John Mark. “I’ll take care of it,” he said. He must have, as my dad told me as I said good-night and thanked them for the party that they were okay with me going to the river with John Mark, so long as we behaved as if Granny and Gramps were there. If they only knew.

John Mark swung his father’s wagon into our driveway right at 6. We knew my parents would figure out some way to inspect the coolers, so we decided to keep them pure and get beer on the road. Sure enough, my parents pretended to be interested in assuring we had all we needed, so they intently went through both coolers. I think they were surprised (and disappointed) to find only sodas.

As we were about to pull away, my dad leaned in, tousled my hair, and reminded me, to “remember the rule.” When we were on our way, John Mark asked “What’s the rule?”

“I’m supposed to behave as if Granny and Gramps are there.”

“So, you have to get high, suck dick, and get fucked?” he asked, laughing.

“I guess so. I don’t want to get in trouble for not ‘remembering the rule.'”

I had assumed (and hoped) this “John Mark & Matthew” weekend would be a continuation of Memorial Day weekend, but I wasn’t certain it would be. John Mark’s question suggested I was not going to be disappointed.

“You still screwing around with Billy Jack?”

“Nah. I think I’m past that.”

“What about your sister’s friend, Julia?”

“Yeah, every once in awhile. I actually snuck out my window last night and fucked her on the patio.”

“You’re an idiot. If you had gotten caught, there’s no way you’d be on your way to the river right now.”

“What can I say? I’m 18. I think with my dick.”

“Is she any good?”

“I don’t really have anyone to compare her to. She’s the only girl I’ve ever fucked. I come every time, so we’re doing something right.”

“How does she compare to Billy Jack?”

“She likes it more, so it’s more fun. She begs for my dick. Billy Jack only let me fuck him if I insisted before I let him fuck me.”

Talking about sex was making me hard. From what I could tell, it was having the same effect on John Mark.

“Do you go down on her?”

“Yeah, it’s the only way she’ll come.”

“Do you like it?”

“It’s alright. But, I’d rather suck a cock.”

“Really?” he asked, drawing the word out slowly and inflecting at the end.

“Yeah. It’s easier, and I like the taste of cock more than the taste of pussy.”

“I’m not much of an enthusiast, either,” he offered. “It’s a means to an end. I have to eat DeeDee’s pussy before I can fuck her. So, I do. But, in and of itself, eating pussy doesn’t do much for me.”

“How are things with her?”

“Miserable. The baby’s pressing on her bladder, so she’s uncomfortable all the time. She was a little bit of a bitch before. Now, she’s a fucking nightmare. I can’t do anything right. That’s one reason I wanted to get away. Being at home sucks ass.”

“So, no sex?”

“Are you kidding? She avoids me like the plague. If I even hint at sex, she insists I’m selfish and self-centered. I’ve been exiled to the spare room. She needs the whole bed to herself.”

“At least in there you can jack off in peace.”

“I know, right?”

The conversation seemed to bring John Mark down. There was something bubbling just beneath the surface of him. I wanted to know what, but I decided to be patient.

With the stops, we got to the cabin around 9. It was too late for supper, so we grabbed some chips, opened Budweisers, and headed to the porch with John Mark’s bong (thank God my parents had not gone through his bag like they had gone through the coolers).

There was no ambient light. I leaned back and stared at the sky, bright with stars. The cicadas were only beginning to chirp. They’d be deafening in a few weeks.

We got really high and a little drunk. At about 11:30, John Mark stood up and announced it was time for bed. I followed him in.

“I’m older, so I’m taking the bedroom,” he announced. “You can have the couch.”

I was gobsmacked as John Mark turned and headed down the hall. It was all I could do not to cry.

I angrily opened the coffee table, pulled out a blanket and a pillow, and started to ready the couch.

“What’re you doing?” John Mark asked, leaning against the hallway door.

“Going to bed.”

“I was kidding, dumbass. You’re staying with me. That’s why we’re here.”

I floated down the hallway. We undressed, John Mark to his birthday suit and me to my briefs. As I climbed into bed, John Mark said “You may as well take those off, too. You’re not going to keep them on for long.” I did. We were naked in bed together for the first time, the room dark except for the bedside lamp.

“Aren’t you going to turn the light off?” I asked

“Nah. I want to be able to see you.”

I was on my back as John Mark rolled into me. Our faces were close. “We should do this properly,” he said, lowering his face to mine and kissing me. I opened my mouth to his, and we kissed deeply. As we did, he moved his rough hand over my hairless body, eventually taking my dick in his hand. I was so excited, I came almost as soon as he touched me.

He had to know, but he didn’t act like he did. He kept groping and kissing me.

“I can’t wait to fuck you,” he said.

“You don’t have to wait,” I promised.

I was under him, so I wrapped my arms and legs around him and tried to welcome him in.

“Hold on a second,” he said, scrambling off the bed and grabbing a tube of lube out of his bag. “I think this’ll help,” he said, lathering his cock and my ass.

I was desperate to have him inside me. I grabbed his slippery cock and guided it to my opening. He slid in and slowly fucked me. I asked for “faster” and “harder” but got only his slow, methodical pace. He was teasing and toying with me.

“You have to speed up,” I insisted.

“No. I’m going to slow-fuck you,” he insisted. And, that is exactly what he did, introducing me to the concept of deliberate, single speed fucking. He never sped up, delivering long, languid strokes that had my entire body tingling by the time I reached down, grabbed my dick, and yanked a load out all over my stomach.

Finished, I could work on John Mark. I clenched and unclenched my ass as he slid in and out of me. He hit my button, and I arched my back, my balls and feet and hands all clenching. My entire body was aglow when John Mark finally came, way too long after entering me. His cock popped out, and I could feel him leaking out of me. He collapsed onto me, damp with sweat. I hooked my arms and legs around him, and he buried his face next to mine. I ran my hands into his hair and massaged his scalp. He raised up, kissed me, and insisted we move to the shower.

In the shower, we made out under the water until we were both hard again. John Mark pushed me toward his cock, telling me he wanted to fuck my face. He wasn’t kidding. Once I had his cock in my mouth as deep as I could, he held my head completely still and slid in and out of my mouth. He was in my throat, but I had no control over what was happening. I was helpless.

I wanted to jack myself off, but I had to brace myself with both hands just to balance myself against the assault on my face. Just when I thought I couldn’t take any more, John Mark pulled his dick out of my mouth, jacked it a couple of times, and unloaded all over my face. As he did, he said “I love watching my cum spray.” That was enough for me. A few jerks of my dick and I coated the shower floor.

When we were back in bed, I told John Mark to lay on his stomach, as I was going to rub his back. He thanked me, and I didn’t tell him it was more for me than it was for him. I wanted to touch every inch of him.

I did. I started at his neck and worked my way up and down his arms, along his sides, and all over his back, alternatively licking and kissing and rubbing and tickling. I moved to his soccer ass, knowing that my desired destination was now in sight.

“Spread your legs a little,” I urged.

When he did what he was told, I lowered my mouth to his ass and delivered his first rim job. I thought he might protest, but he didn’t. I went after him greedily. I didn’t much care for eating pussy, but I loved eating ass. John Mark’s was nice and hairy, a man’s ass.

“Do you like that?” I asked.

“I do . . . . I really do. I’m hard as a rock.”

“Prove it.”

John Mark rolled over, and he was, indeed, hard as a rock again. I took him in my mouth, this time exerting the control I lacked in the shower. I milked his cock hard and long. When he warned me that he was “getting close,” I took him as deep as I could and shoved my spit covered finger in his ass. He yelped, shuddered, and unloaded deep in my throat.

As he came down, I went back to work. This time, I started at the bottom and worked my way up. I licked and kissed and rubbed his feet and legs. When I got to his crotch, I raised his legs and ate his ass again. I sucked his balls. I licked and kissed his softened cock, his stomach, and his sides. I sucked each nipple hard. I moved to his neck. I finished at his mouth, kissing him hard and long.

I collapsed onto him, spent. I was tired, and so was he. He wrapped his arms around me, and I fell asleep on top of him, cheek to cheek, chest to chest, crotch to crotch.


When I awoke, it was pouring down rain. John Mark was in bed next to me, reading a book. There was coffee and a tube of toothpaste on the nightstand.

“What’s the toothpaste for?” I asked.

“When we finish our coffee, we can use it to fix our breath,” he said. “That way, we won’t have to get out of bed if we don’t want to. The weather sucks, so I thought we should try to stay in bed all day.” Generally, I hated rain. Today, I loved it.

As John Mark read, I drank my coffee and basked in the peace of the morning and the promise of the day. As soon as I finished my coffee, John Mark pulled me to him, and kissed me deep and long. The kiss felt like it lasted forever, as our tongues danced with each other. When we finally broke, I was light-headed, and John Mark simply said, “Wow.” I settled my head into his chest, and we both dozed off.

When I woke up, I was pleasantly surprised that John Mark was sucking my dick. He wasn’t great at it, but he did fine for a first time. As I got close, I knew I should warn him, but I really like coming in people’s mouths. I cannot imagine eating a girl out and then stopping just as she’s about to come. It seemed rude. Pulling off just as a guy is about to come seemed equally rude.

I stayed silent, bucked, and unloaded in his mouth. I felt him gag a little as I did, but he kept going, finishing me off completely. He pulled off and smiled at me.

“How was that?” I asked.

“Better than I thought it’d be.”

“I fucking love doing it.”

“I’m pretty sure I’ll never love it.”

“I bet you will. You’ll become an addict.”

“I’d take that bet,” he said.

As we talked, John Mark maneuvered himself between my legs. He said, “I want to fuck you again. How do you want me to do it?”

I surprised him. “Take me from behind.” He did, flat on me, and deep in me. He intertwined his left hand with mine. He slipped his right hand under my right arm and held my face. I put my right hand in his hair. He was blanketing me. It was the most intimate lay of my life.

It rained all day. We left the bed only to use the bathroom, clean up, grab pot or beer, or get a little bit of food. We napped on and off to reclaim our energy. We spent the rest of the day sexing, insatiably. I sucked John Mark. He sucked and fucked me, taking instruction well and getting better each time he took my dick in his mouth.

At about 8 p.m., I announced that I was pretty sure I was not going to be able to walk the next day. John Mark responded “Then I’ll carry you.”

I asked, “Does that mean you’re not finished?”

“That’s exactly what it means,” he said, preparing to take me again.

I don’t remember who finally gave in and called it a night. But, whoever it was had to have done so out of sheer exhaustion, because neither of us seemed capable of stopping voluntarily.


We slept late on Sunday. When I woke up, John Mark was again reading, and there was coffee on the table again. I sat up, grabbed my coffee, and leaned into him, resting my head on his shoulder. When our coffee cups were empty, I asked, “Are we going to get out of bed today?”

“Only to leave.”

“What are we going to do until then?”

“Something a little different,” John Mark said, rolling into me, pulling me flat, and kissing me. “I want you to try to fuck me.”

“Really?” I asked, surprised.

“It only seems fair.”

Remembering the brutality of my first time (Billy Jack hadn’t cared that he was taking my cherry and he had ridden me hard without much preparation), I took John Mark gently. I started by rimming him and then opening him with my fingers. I lubed him inside and out. I lubed my dick as much as I could. I told him to make sure he kept breathing. I entered him slowly, allowing him to signal when it was okay for me to give him more. When I was all the way in, I stayed as still as I could until he was adjusted to my dick and was ready for action. I moved in and out of him slowly, no matter how much I wanted to buck like mad. When I came, John Mark was hard. I stayed inside of him and jacked him off.

When I was finished and settled next to him, I asked him what he thought.

“Well, just when I thought I was going to make you stop, the pain eased a little. I’m not sure it ever felt good, but it made me hard, so there must have been something to it.”

“I probably shouldn’t have taken you on your back the first time. I think on your side or stomach may have been easier.”

“Now you tell me,” he said, sarcastically.

“I wanted to be able to see you,” I said, seriously, and echoing his words from Friday night.

“I love you, too, Matty.”

“I didn’t say ‘I love you.'”

“Yes, you did. And, I love you, too.”

We stayed in bed until it was time to leave. The furtiveness of Saturday was replaced by slower, more deliberate sex. John Mark fucked me twice, and I fucked him once more. We also 69’d for the first time, which was my first time ever for that. The reverse angle was perfect for getting John Mark all the way down my throat. We fell into perfect rhythm, him up when I was down. We came at the same time.

As we drove home, I asked John Mark if he thought he was gay. I was surprised by his, “no, not at all” answer.

“Then what is this?”

“Weird shit. I mean, I’ve never been attracted to a guy. I’ve looked at guy’s bodies and dicks, but just out of comparison. I’ve never thought, ‘boy, I’d like to kiss him’ or ‘boy, I’d suck that dick.’ I’ve never fantasized about a guy, like when I jack off or fuck a girl. I just never have. So, I have to think this is just about you. I mean, I don’t think I’d have ever fooled around with a guy if I wasn’t horned up and awake when you tried to feel my cock that night.”

“Maybe you were just bored,” I offered.

“I dunno. I don’t think you fuck a guy out of boredom. If you do, I doubt you keep doing it. And, I doubt you start making out with him. I think the kissing takes this a different direction.”

“Maybe it’s just because the sex is good,” I offered.

“Well, it is really good. Like mind-blowingly good. Like, ‘holy shit, this is what it’s supposed to be like good.’ I think I had my biggest orgasms ever this weekend. But, like I said, the kissing seems to take this a different direction. It’s more than sex now, at least for me.”

“It is for me, too,” I assured him.

“I watched you sleep last night, trying to wrap my mind around what’s going on. And, I was just really happy to be here, with you. So, I wondered if a guy can be straight and fall head over heels for another guy. Because that seems to be where I’m headed with you.”

“I know what you mean,” I said. I was head over heels for John Mark.

Labor Day

When John Mark dropped me off on July 7, I questioned what would happen now that we were back. The next day, my questions were answered. John Mark called me when he got off work, and we talked for about an hour.

About halfway through the call, I offered, “You don’t sound happy.”

“I’m not. I let things get away from me, and now I’m stuck.”

“Talk to me.”

“Well, it was DeeDee’s idea to get married, I didn’t resist enough, and things just snowballed until I found myself standing at the altar doing something I didn’t really want to do. It was the same way with the baby. DeeDee claims she got pregnant by accident, but I don’t believe her. I think she wanted a baby, knew I didn’t, and so took matters into her own hands.”

I couldn’t offer him any words of comfort. I had no idea what he was going through.

What I could do was see him. “Meet me at the coffee shop on 17th.”

“Okay, I’ll tell DeeDee I’m going for a run.”

At the shop, John Mark and I just talked. Every once in awhile, he would tousle my hair or put his hand on mine.

Every day after that, I biked to his dad’s shop and talked to John Mark while he worked. Some days, I was there all day. It was my Uncle’s shop, so no one cared or thought it was weird. We were just two “cousins” hanging out.

When we could, we’d sneak sex. If my parents were gone, John Mark would take his “lunch” in my bed. When they weren’t, I’d blow him in a bathroom, or he’d blow me in park, or we’d sneak a quick fuck in his car.

July turned to August, and August headed toward September. As I started at the local university, I wondered about Labor Day weekend. My grandparents and I were certainly headed to the cabin, but I wasn’t sure if John Mark was. DeeDee was close to popping, and I didn’t think she’d tolerate him being gone. I was surprised when John Mark told me she not only tolerated it, but encouraged it.

“That’s what we’ve become,” he said, with only a slight amount of melancholy. “She’d rather I wasn’t around.”


With our grandparents there, we were back to the living room floor, and the loud, raucous sex of the 4th returned to the silent, furtive sex of Memorial Day. Still, there was none of the dance of Memorial Day weekend. We both knew and wanted what was going to happen. We fucked each other Friday night, and sucked each other Saturday morning.

We spent Saturday on the river. John Mark let me blow him on the sand bar. Anyone running the river could have seen us. We didn’t care.

After Granny and Gramps went to bed Saturday night, John Mark and I went to the porch, smoked pot, and made out. Our kiss matched the kiss from the morning of July 6. It took my breath away.

“I love you, John Mark.”

“I love you, too, Matty. A lot.”

We didn’t have sex Saturday night. We just kissed and held each other.

We slept too long Sunday morning. When I woke up, we were naked, John Mark was wrapped around me, and Gramps was sitting at the dining room table, staring at us. A grey sheet was all that saved Gramps from seeing what he was trying not to see.

I nudged John Mark awake. When he started to kiss me, the terror in my eyes stopped him cold. I whispered “Gramps is up” and looked toward him. I was terrified about what would happen next.

John Mark was as cool as the underside of a pillow. He grabbed his shorts, slid them on, stood up, and stretched. When I followed, he tousled my hair, and said, “It’ll be better tonight. You’ll see.”

John Mark strode to the kitchen, got a cup of coffee, and joined Gramps at the table. Without skipping a beat, John Mark said, “Matty had terrible dreams last night. The only way I could get him calmed was to hold him. . . . Is it okay if I call DeeDee? It’s long distance, I want to check on my wife and our baby. I’m a little nervous being gone this close to the birth. I should’ve ignored her and stayed home.”

I didn’t know if it would fly. But, John Mark’s cocksureness seemed to have done the trick. Gramps never said a word, and John Mark and I were fucking on the living room floor as soon as he and Granny closed the bedroom door that night.

I blew him a final time the next morning. We cut it close, as we could hear Granny and Gramps talking in the bedroom as I worked an orgasm out of John Mark’s balls and cock. No sooner than we had pulled on our shorts, Gramps called down the hall “Rise and shine. Up and at ’em.” He had never done that before. John Mark had not tricked him the morning before. He knew what was going on. He had just chosen discretion. And to warn us this morning so he didn’t walk in on something he didn’t want to walk in on.


As we were loading the car, Gramps asked John Mark and me to join him on the dock. Once there, he proved himself to be a pioneer on the leading edge of society. “Look, I don’t care what you boys do, but you best be careful. The world can be a cruel place, and I don’t want that cruelty visited upon you. So, do what you need to do, but be careful about it. There’s no need to let the world in on it.”

As we drove home, I wondered where we were going. It was clear, at least to me, that this was not some passing fling. It was equally clear to me that there was not enough room in John Mark’s life for me, a baby, and DeeDee. I was not sure how he’d work it out, but I didn’t think it would be easy.

DeeDee made it easy. She’d stopped fucking John Mark because she’d started fucking the guy in the apartment above theirs (obviously unbeknownst to John Mark). He was hot and single and rich, or at least headed to riches (he was a Radiology resident). She hadn’t lied about the baby. It was an accident, and she didn’t know whose it was.

To John Mark’s surprise (and DeeDee’s), the tests showed he was John Mark’s. She didn’t want him or John Mark. She wanted the Radiologist. And, he wanted her. So, John Mark’s problems were solved. DeeDee took off, leaving the baby (Travis) and John Mark behind. She never looked back.

Travis had arrived on September 21st. He was perfect and adorable. I loved him the first moment I touched him.

For awhile, I pretended to be interested in Travis and claimed to be visiting him. But, it was not long before the secret was out, at least in our family. John Mark and I were together. I for all intents and purposes moved in with them. My parents didn’t like it, but I was 18, and they couldn’t do anything about it.

I officially moved in at Christmas. I took everything I owned. My parents cut me off, at least financially.

John Mark and Travis and I were deliriously happy. John Mark and I were living a dream. We were together, and we had a perfect baby boy.


On June 26, 2015, the United States Supreme Court held that same-sex marriage was a fundamental right. When it did, John Mark and I had been together for 30 years. Our life together had not been easy. One, the world was a different place, and it was difficult for both of us to deal with the intolerance. We tried to hide, but it’s hard to hid in plain sight. Two, we were flawed men who made selfish, self-centered decisions. I will not detail them here, but – suffice to say – we both behaved badly, there were times where I was certain John Mark would leave me, and there were times where I was certain I would leave him. We should have ended a number of times. But, no matter what, we always found our way back to each other.

John Mark is now 56, I’m 50, Travis is 31, our adopted daughter (Elizabeth) is 26, and our grandchildren (David, Michael, and Katherine, all through Travis) are 5, 3, and 1. We have seen a revolution in our lives. We started living in the shadows. We now live in the light, honest and open about who and what we are.

We are true partners. We still like sex, but we like to have wine on our porch or walk hand in hand through the park even more. Mostly, we like to spend our evenings with our grandchildren on our living room floor, building forts and playing with blocks and cars and dolls.

In 2015, we also love each other more than we ever had. We started as boys, really, me more so than John Mark. We were too young and too stupid to know we didn’t have of a chance of making it, at least not together. Our youth and stupidity may have worked to our advantage, as we had made it. Not easily. But happily.

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