Читать книгу Every Frat Boy Wants It - Todd Gregory - Страница 10

I skipped class the next day.

I didn’t want to face Blair, or any of the other students. I felt like there was a gigantic sign on my forehead flashing in red neon to everyone COCKSUCKER! COCKSUCKER! COCKSUCKER! I told my mother I didn’t feel good and just went to my room and shut the door. She checked in on me a few times—once to tell me Blair was on the phone—and I just said I don’t want to talk to anyone, and after that she left me alone. I’d turned my cell phone off, and just lay in bed staring at the ceiling.

Now you’ve done it. You’re a homo for sure.

There’s no turning back now.

I wasn’t sure how I felt about it, now that I’d actually done it. There was always that part in the back of my mind which always insisted it was just a phase; as long as I never acted on it I’d be okay. All I needed to do was fuck a girl and I’d snap out of it. But that didn’t keep me from longing for boys—Kevin, then Blair—and now I’d actually done it—something—with another guy, it was with a guy I barely knew, someone I certainly wasn’t in love with, so what did that make me?

Not only a queer, but a slut.

I couldn’t face anyone. All I wanted to do was stay in my room for the rest of my life and hide from the rest of the world. I woke up in the middle of the night and left a message on Blair’s cell phone, telling him I wasn’t coming to class (ever again) so he wouldn’t show up in the morning. When my mom came to wake me up, I told her I still didn’t feel so hot and I wasn’t going. She shut the door and went away.

At noon, my door opened again.

“I’m not hungry,” I said without looking.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Blair walked in and sat down on the edge of the bed.

“Nothing. Go away.”

“Jesus fucking Christ on the cross, Jeff, I’m the drama major, remember? You’re the writer.” He lit a cigarette. My mother didn’t allow anyone else to smoke in the house. “Now, tell me what the hell is going on. You’re supposed to meet me at the house yesterday; I get there and there was no sign of you. You don’t answer your phone. Your mother tells me you’re not well. This morning I get this pathetic voicemail that you’re not coming to class. Tell me what’s wrong.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“So you sucked Rory Armagh’s cock? It’s not the end of the world.”

I sat up in bed. “Did he tell you that?”

Blair laughed. “He didn’t have to.” He put an arm around me. “And he isn’t going to tell anyone else, either, if that’s what you’re so afraid of. The last thing in the world Rory Armagh is going to do is let anyone know another guy sucked him off. You can put that in the bank and collect interest on it, okay?”

“How—how did you know?”

“You think I haven’t sucked Rory off?” He started laughing. “Don’t you remember what I told you that first day at the house? Straight boys don’t care who gets them off when they’re fucked up, remember? And alcohol, or pot, or coke, or whatever, is a perfect excuse for them.” He rolled his eyes. “‘Oh, man I was so fucked up last night, I think I let some guy suck my dick’ or ‘Oh man was I drunk last night, I think I fucked some guy up the ass’. Whatever. The truth is Rory would let a dog suck his dick if he was horny. And by dog, I don’t mean an ugly girl. I mean a dog. A cocker spaniel. A Great Dane. Get the picture?”

“I—I guess.”

“Look.” He dropped the cigarette into an empty Coke can on my nightstand, and grabbed me by the shoulders. “You’re my friend, okay? I don’t know if you’re gay, straight, whatever you are—that doesn’t matter. What matters to me is you’re cool, and a nice guy, and a lot of fun to hang out with, okay? I want you to join Beta Kappa because I think you’ll have a good time there. The guys are pretty cool for the most part, and we have the best parties. Just because you sucked Rory Armagh’s dick when you were wasted one night doesn’t mean anything, you got that? All it means was you were curious about it…and sexual curiosity is not a bad thing or a big deal.”

“I don’t like girls, Blair,” I said in a small voice. I couldn’t look at him as I said it; I’d never said it out loud before.

He lit another cigarette. “Yeah? So what?”

“I think I might be gay.” I said the words, and let out a big sigh of relief. I’d been fighting it for so long, denying it for as long as I could remember. So what if it meant I couldn’t join Beta Kappa? So what if it meant losing Blair as a friend?

But he kissed you, he sat on top of you and rubbed on you…

“Like I said, Jeff, so fucking what?” He laughed again. “I grew up around the film industry, for God’s sake. You have any idea how many gays and lesbians I know? Hell, my mom is bisexual—she has a girlfriend right now over in London! You need to get past this idea that it’s a bad thing to be gay, honey. It’s not.” He took my hand. “Look at me.” I met his eyes. “I am sure growing up in Kansas—and your parents are nice enough people, but they don’t seem to be the most open-minded people in the world, no offense—was pretty hard on you. I can’t even imagine it. But being gay is not a sin or wrong or whatever you think it is, my friend. It’s just who you are. Do you really, deep down, think you’re a bad person?”

“No,” I said slowly. “No, I don’t.”

“Because you aren’t, you big dope. You’re still Jeff. That hasn’t changed at all. You understand? You are still Jeff to me, and you’re still Jeff to everyone—and anyone who wants to not like you or think there’s something wrong with you—well, that’s their problem, not yours. Am I making sense here?” He puffed on the cigarette. “Am I?”

“Some.” I did feel relieved that Blair didn’t turn on me—but then again, that night in his room, he had been the one to initiate things between us, even though he’d also been the one to stop. “Blair, are you gay?”

He shook his head. “You are something else, you know that, Kansas boy?” He leaned over and kissed my cheek. “Yes, yes, I am gay. I don’t like girls either.” He shuddered. “Blech. Those big old boobs? Them big old hips? And don’t even get me started on vaginas.” He grinned at me. “Nope, I’m a big old fairy.”

“Then why”—I hesitated, then plunged forward—“why didn’t you want to be with me that time? I mean…” my voice trailed off.

“Oh, you big dope.” He started laughing again. “Don’t tell me—oh, this is priceless.” He leaned over and brushed my cheek with his lips. “Jeff, I am very attracted to you. Are you kidding me? Have you looked in a fucking mirror lately? Let’s see, hmmm. Okay. You’re about what, six two? Blond, blue-eyed, and tan. You have an amazing body, and you have this seductively innocent look about you…porn directors would drool over you. You could be an escort and pay your way through school—if you only knew what you were doing.”

“Then why didn’t you want me?” I couldn’t help myself, I knew I was pouting like a little kid.

“Oh, God in heaven.” He threw his arms up in the air. “Jeff.” He took my face in both hands. “You’re the kind of guy I could fall in love with,” he whispered. “Don’t you get it? The last thing in the world I wanted to be was just one of those…oh, shit.” He laughed and bit his lips. “I wanted it to be special for us, if it was meant to be, does that make sense? If you were one of those horny fucked up straight boys who just wanted to get off with whoever happened to be handy—I didn’t want that, and you said yourself you’d never been with a guy before.”

“That wasn’t true.” I admitted, my heart singing, He wants me! He wants me!

An eyebrow went up. “What do you mean it wasn’t true? You lied to me?”

I nodded. “I—I didn’t want to admit it, even to you. But I’ve been with a guy before.”

There was a park in Emporia, near the campus of the university there. One night, Kevin and I and the girls we were going steady with at the time were driving around, aimlessly looking for something to do, some place to park and maybe make out or something. The movie was over, we’d eaten, and there was nothing else for us to do. The girls didn’t have to be home until midnight, and we had some time to kill. I started to pull the Flying Couch over at the park when the girl I was dating—Lisa Driscoll—shrieked, “We can’t park here!”

“Why not?” I looked over at her.

“This is a park where the queers go.” She curled her lip. “You know…to do whatever it is they do.”

“How do you know that?”

“My sister goes to E-State, and she told me to never come here at night. Everyone knows about it. Get us out of here!”

So, I’d driven off. But a week later, when I didn’t have a date, I came back by myself. I parked my car a few blocks away from the park—in case someone I knew drove by—and walked over. My hands were sweating, my stomach churning, and I was scared to death. What if the cops are there? What if someone I know sees me? What if…what if…what if…the thoughts kept swirling around in my head as I approached the park. It was dark and cloudy; there was very little light once you got away from the street lamps. I crossed the street and walked into the park. I couldn’t see anyone around, and wondered if Lisa had been wrong, if I was wasting my time. What if I was too early? What if I was too late? Were there really other queers in Emporia? I walked through the park in my tight jeans and my T-shirt, my eyes darting around to try to see signs of life, of anyone, of anything. I kept walking, around trees and over grass, and after about a half an hour I was pretty certain I was wasting my time.

“Okay, just go home.” I said to myself as I walked into a small clearing where the restrooms were located. I glanced at my watch. 11:15. I had forty-five minutes to get back home before curfew. I sighed. I’d wasted my night. All those nerves, everything—all for nothing.

“Hey.”

I jumped, and looked as a man emerged from the bushes to my right. He was short, maybe about five six, with a mustache and longish blond hair. He was wearing a tank top and a ratty looking pair of jeans, and his body was lean and tight. “Hey.” I said, wondering if he was a serial killer or something worse.

“How ya doin?” He lit a cigarette, and in the flare of his lighter I saw that he was unshaven, and there was a Marine tattoo on his right arm.

“Okay.”

He walked over closer to me, and smiled at me. He was maybe thirty years old. “What ya lookin for, kid?”

I swallowed, and fought the urge to turn and run. “I’m looking for a man,” I said, hoping against hope he wasn’t going to beat me up—but then again, I was taller and heavier.

“You’ve found one.” He stepped up close to me, and put his hand on my crotch. He grinned up at me. “Nice.” He made a head gesture. “I’m parked over there.”

“Okay.”

I followed him out to a van. He unlocked the back and climbed in. Looking around to make sure there was no one around, I climbed in and shut the doors behind me. The back of the van was carpeted, and there was a toolbox off to one side. He started brushing toys to the side, and crazy thoughts went through my head. He’s married, he has kids, this isn’t right, this is wrong, I need to get out of here while I still can…

He pulled his tank top over his head and smiled at me. “Come here, boy.”

I reached out and touched his chest. It was mostly smooth, except for some errant hairs around each nipple. “Take your shirt off,” he instructed, so I pulled my shirt up off over my head. “Aren’t you a pretty boy?” He leaned over and put his lips on my right nipple, and started sucking it.

My breath started coming in gasps. I’d never felt anything like this before—it felt incredible. My cock got harder in my pants, and my head went back as I moaned. None of the girls I’d ever dated had ever let me do more than kiss them or get my hand up inside their shirt. They’d certainly never touched my dick, they’d never sucked my nipples. Then he moved his mouth over to my other nipple and I thought I was going to come right then and there. He looked up at me with his eyes and winked. One of his hands went down to my crotch and undid my belt, then the fly of my jeans. I lifted my ass up so he could yank my underwear and pants down. He took his mouth off my nipple and smiled at me. “Damn, that’s a big cock, boy, do you know how to use it?”

“Uh-huh,” was all I managed to get out.

He smiled again and stood up, pulling his own pants down. He didn’t have on any underwear, and his own dick was standing up straight away from the thick blond hair. He opened the toolbox and grabbed a condom, which he opened and rolled over my dick. My dick jerked when he touched it, but he grabbed it at the base and squeezed. “Not ready for that yet, boy.” He grinned at me, then squirted something on it. He reached down and pinched my right nipple. “Okay, boy time to show me what you can do with that big ol’ club you got.” He straddled me and grabbed my dick, and then slowly started sitting on it.

I could barely breathe. It felt amazing. Much better than when I beat myself off, much better than when I humped a pillow—the moist wet tightness of his asshole seemed to simply grab on to my cock and hold on to it. He gasped and stopped. “Damn, boy you’ve got a big one, don’t you? That’s gonna take me some time to get used to.”

“Oh—oh—okay.”

Finally, with the occasional grunt and moan, he managed to get all of me inside of him, and started rocking on it a little bit. “Boy, that feel so fucking good inside of me, you like it up there in my ass?”

“Oh God, yes.”

He slid up slowly, and then settled back down. “I wanna keep that big ol’ thing inside me as long as I can, boy,” he whispered down at me.

“Uh-huh.” I didn’t care as long as it kept feeling this good.

He started moving faster, and stroking himself. It was like nothing I’d ever felt before—the friction on my dick, the feel of his hard little ass settling on my balls on the way down, the sliding of my dick out of him, and his hard little body looked so damned good up there, riding me. And then I felt it starting—“I’m gonna come.” I gasped out.

“Good. Shoot it up inside me!”

My entire body went rigid and started trembling as an almost painful pressure started building inside of me and then I screamed as it started pumping out of me…and he moaned as his own started squirting out of him. We both kept gasping, moaning and convulsing—and then I was finished…and my body trembled as I tried to catch my breath.

“Nice,” he said, reaching down with a towel and wiping himself off of me. He got off me and peeled the condom off, which he wrapped in a paper towel and put in a garbage bag. He handed me my T-shirt as he pulled up his own pants. “Thanks, boy.” He opened the back doors to the van as I fastened my pants. I climbed out the back, holding my shirt.

“Thanks, kid.” He winked and shut the car doors. As I stood there, the van started and then pulled away.

I put my shirt back on and headed back to my car.

Blair started laughing. “You had anonymous sex with some married closet case in a park?”

“Don’t laugh at me!” I pushed him away from me. “It’s not funny!”

“And here I thought you were this innocent little boy from the prairies.” He stood up. He looked at me, his eyes sparkling. “I’ve got a great idea. What are you doing this weekend?”

“Nothing.”

“Let’s go to LA!”

I goggled at him. “Los Angeles?”

“Yeah.” He started bouncing on the bed. “We can stay at my dad’s—and we can hang out, and I can show you around. It’ll be a blast!” he jumped off the bed. “Pack some clothes, dude. I’ll go fix it up with your mom!” He paused at my bedroom door. “Get ready to live, prairie boy!”