Terry - Part 8 - Jamey

Supper was peanut butter sandwiches again. At least, we were given three apiece and I ate all three even though I’ve never liked peanut butter. We were given so little food that I had to eat every thing.

Harris seemed to be having trouble chewing his sandwich, so I asked, “What’s the matter?”

“Duke banged my jaw against the wall. It hurts to chew.”

“Did it hurt when I kissed you?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“Why didn’t you say something?”

“The kiss was more important than the pain. I’m eating despite the pain, and the kiss was much more important than the food.”

We were sitting next to each other on the lower bunk-on Terry’s bed. I put my arm around his neck and kissed him-gently-on the cheek. “I like you, Paul. I like you a lot.”

“Yeah,” he said, then appearing sad, looked down at his sandwich.

Not knowing how to take his silence or the look on his face, I said, “What’s wrong? I thought you liked me, too.”

I do. I guess that the problem. You’re the first boy that I’ve liked since Jamey. You’re the first boy I’ve made love to since Jamey.”

I almost said, “How about all those guys you fucked?” but remembered that he had discriminated between fucking and making love. I had such limited experience at either sex or making love that I had to keep reminding myself that they were different. Sex to me had been masturbating-except for the blow job from Sam. I had only made love once-a few minutes before with Harris. Instead, I asked, “Why does that make you sad?”

“I loved Jamey. I lost him. Now, I beginning to love you-and, one way or the other, I’ll lose you, too.”

“You mean that they’ll put Terry back in with me? If they do, we’d still see each other at recreation.”

“Would you make love to me with Terry watching?”

“I-uh....” I couldn’t answer. I wasn’t certain what I was feeling for Harris-maybe I loved him-certainly I liked him; but, to make love to him-even to kiss him with Terry watching, I didn’t know if I could. If I did, I would lose all chance for Terry. Oh, any rational thought told me that I had no chance anyway-that there was no possibility I could ever have a sexual relationship with Terry, but a small voice in my head kept whispering-maybe. If we had been on the outside, of course, there would have never been any possibility that Terry would come to love me as I did him-but here on the inside... Other than the guards, there were no women. Would not Terry need, as I needed, someone to love-someone with whom he could express that love-sexually? Why wouldn’t that someone be me? He had already told me that he loved me, even if he had meant that he loved me only as a friend. Why couldn’t that love grow into something more?

But, I was gay. I had come to accept that I was. Terry was not. We were different. Although I was a boy, I wasn’t quite the same species of boy that Terry was. I realized that I had suppressed my feelings for boys, and I thought of school and the boys whom, now, I could admit to myself that I found attractive-boys, with whom, given the choice, I would have sex. I had attempted to transfer those feeling to girls at school. It was probably why my attempts at dating had been such failures. Yes-we were different, Terry and I. Just as I could not quite understand how women thought, I couldn’t entirely understand how Terry-and boys who were straight-thought. I wished I could, as Harris had done, chose what I could have, rather than chose what I could not-but, I had loved Terry for so long.

When I didn’t answer, Harris said, “See, I’ve already lost you.”

I no longer thought of him as Harris. I had made love to him. He was my lover. Surely, no boy calls his girlfriend by her last name. “Paul, can’t you understand? An hour ago I wouldn’t have even admitted to myself that I was gay. I really care about you. I might even love you; but, I’ve loved Terry since I first saw him. I know that love is hopeless-but I can’t make myself stop hoping. Give it some time, will you?”

“Time, Jonny? Time is the one thing I don’t have.”

“Why, what do you mean?”

“Did you forget my trial? I go on trial sometime in the next two weeks-if Snyder, or Bobby Duke, doesn’t kill me first.”

With everything that had happened today, I had forgotten about the trial. I was worried about Terry-about what Snyder and Rogers had planned for him. So much had happened that day.

“What happens if you get off at your trial? Would you come back here?”

“No-no matter what happens, I won’t come back here. I’ll either go to some other prison-or I’ll go to death row-but, with the Aryan Brotherhood after me, I’d probably live longer on death row.”

“Then, the most we’ll have together is two weeks?” I began to realize that I was completely at the mercy of the guards, the prison-the system. I could plan nothing-could count on nothing. I might have already lost Terry. Maybe I would see him the next day-but maybe I wouldn’t. Maybe I would never see him again. Snyder might kill him tonight-or he might kill me; or, they might just keep us in separate cells here in segregation, never allowing us to have recreation together; or they might transfer one of us to one prison and the other to another.

Copying Harris’ ironic laugh, I played it in my mind. I had hated school because of the rules and regulations-because of the restrictions that it had placed on my freedom, but school had been nothing. I had been free in school-free to learn or not, even free to skip a day when I felt I could get away with it. There, the worst that could happen to a friend was that he might move to another town; but, there were always other friends. In prison, there was no skipping. If I refused to leave my cell, I would be gassed, then removed from it by a swat team. They had taken Terry away. Soon they would take Harris. Then, I would be alone. That prospect frightened me more than anything; more than being raped by Snyder or one of the inmates; more than being beaten; more, even, than being killed.

Suddenly, in a moment of insight-with almost a flash of satori-I realized that the one thing they could not take from me was this moment-the moment I was living-the moment I was experiencing-NOW. They couldn’t take now from me. A guard might come for me the next moment, but I had no control over that. For this one moment, I was free: free to think what I wished; free even to make love to Harris.

“Paul, I don’t know what’s going to happen. We might be cell mates until your trial, or we may not; and I can’t do anything about my feelings for Terry. Though I’m worried about him, I can’t do anything about it, either. All any of us have is now-this minute. Let’s not throw it away worrying about what might happen; we have no control over that, anyway. At this moment: I like you; I care about you; I love you.” This time, I took his face in my hands, kissing his eyes, his face at the ends of his mouth, then, fully on the mouth, prying it open with my tongue, thrusting it inside, running it over his teeth.

With my mouth locked to his, I pushed him back on the bed, rolling on top of him. He raised his legs, thinking, I guess, that I wanted to fuck him, but, although my cock nuzzled at his asshole, I didn’t thrust it in; though that’s where my cock wanted to go.

Continuing to kiss him I began to work my way down, first to his neck, then to his chest-to his tits, devoting equal time to each nipple, then going lower-to his navel. I tarried there for a while, licking it, then worked my way to his cock-his small, flaccid cock.

After pulling back the foreskin to expose the head, I kissed it, then licked and kissed his cock along the shaft, working my way to where his balls had been. I kissed the base of his cock-licked what was left of his scrotum, kissing and licking my way to his asshole-then licked it. I don’t know why I did-it just seemed to be natural. His asshole had given me pleasure-the best orgasm I’d ever had. It was as if kissing it-licking it-was a way to show my gratitude.

Working my way slowly back to his cock, I took it into my mouth-played with it with my tongue-my lips. Surprisingly, I felt it grow in my mouth, filling it. Placing my hands on Harris’ butt, I used it to thrust his cock into my mouth. Before long, he began thrusting, ramming his cock into my waiting mouth-then shuddering, he moaned. Harris had an orgasm. I felt the head of his cock expand as he pumped his come into my mouth. There wasn’t much, and it didn’t taste the same as mine had-when curious-I had tasted my own-but he came.

After he came, I kissed my way back to his mouth, this time, letting his ass accept my cock. He threw his arms around me, pulling me to him, smashing my mouth against his, as I rammed my cock into his ass.

I came again. It wasn’t as it had been before. It wasn’t a transcendental experience as it had been, but it was good-the second best orgasm that I’d ever had.

As we lay there afterward, my mouth alongside his ear, I whispered, “You came.”

“Yes,” he said, “I came. I didn’t know it was possible for me to come, but I did.”

“Was it good?”

“Yeah, it was different. It didn’t just take place in my cock or my groin. I could feel it all over. Yeah...it was good.”

After a minute, I rolled off of him onto my right side, facing him with my mouth brushing his cheek, as he lay on his back. “Tell me about Jamey?”

“I told you about Jamey. He was younger than me; we were lovers; we got caught, and I got sent to prison.”

“No, I mean, tell me about Jamey. What was he like? Why did you love him? What was it like to love another boy, who loved you?”

I guess that the last part was what I wanted to know about the most. I loved Terry, but he didn’t love me. I wondered what it would be like to love someone-really love another boy-and have him love me back.

“Why do you want to know about Jamey? You aren’t jealous about him, are you? Jamey was a long time ago-another time-another world.”

“No, I’m not jealous about Jamey,” I said-then to myself, “not as jealous as you are about Terry, anyway,” and then out loud again, “I just want to know what he was like: why you loved him; what it was like to have as a lover a boy who loved you.”

“What is it you want to know?”

“Everything: how you met; how you happened to make love for the first time; where did you did it; whether it was the first time for both of you; what he looked like.”

With my elbow resting on the bed, I propped up my head with my hand and watched Harris’ face. Although he was looking up at the top bunk as he began to speak, he seemed to be elsewhere-back with Jamey, I thought. A far off, distant look came over his face. I wasn’t certain that he was any longer aware of my presence.

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Jamey was a sophomore; I was a senior. It was his first year at my high school. We were taking the same mechanical drawing class. The first day of school, in that class, was the first time I ever saw him. Drawing tables were arranged in groups of four so that two were side by side and two faced the other two. Since most of the other boys thought I was gay, I had no friends; no one was sitting by me. Eventually someone would have been forced to take a seat near me, but since class hadn’t started yet, there were still several seats open. He sat down across from me, smiled, and said, “Hi.”

God, he was beautiful. He had thick brown hair, brushed forward in front down to his eyebrows, and brown eyes. He was wearing a T shirt beneath which I could see well developed chest muscles. I was so struck by his beauty that, for a moment, I was unable to speak. About that time, another boy said to Jamey, “Watch it, kid, Harris is a fag.”

“Yeah, kid,” another one said, “you’d better move if you don’t want your dick sucked.”

I was gay, but I’d never had sex with anyone. None of them knew for sure I was gay, but that didn’t stop them from talking. I expected Jamey to move, but he didn’t. “Don’t pay any attention to them,” he said, loud enough for them to hear, “They’re both jerks.”

“Hey, you’d better watch it, kid,” one of them said.

“Fuck you,” said Jamey, then, holding out his hand for me to shake, “Hi, my name is Jamey.”

“Har-Harris is mine.”

“No, what’s your first name?” Jamey asked, holding onto my hand for a little longer than necessary. After I told him, he said, “Glad to meet you Paul.”

I had taken mechanical drawing for two years and was good at it. Jamey kept asking for my help, although, as smart as he was, I doubt that he needed it. If he hadn’t, I probably wouldn’t have spoken to him-that’s how shy I was.

As he watched me draw, he often leaned against me while looking over my shoulder. Feeling his hard body press against me made me so hot that I had difficulty concentrating. I think that I had an erection from the time class started until it was over. Fortunately, I wore baggy pants.

One day, after school had been in session for about a month, Jamey caught up with me as I was walking home. “Hey, Paul, what’s up?”

“Not, much, Jamey, just on my way home.”

“Why don’t you come over to my house,” he said, “my parents work. They won’t be home until after six. Maybe we can watch some movies-or something.” He smiled when he said, “or something.”

Once at his house, we went to his room. In it he had a TV, video recorder, DVD player, and a computer. Turning on his computer, he said, “Let me show you something.”

Once he connected to the Internet, he logged onto a gay porn site. We watched a video clip of two boys, who, although the site said that all the boys were over eighteen, looked younger than I. They took turns sucking each other’s cock. The older, dark haired boy even fucked the younger, blond, boy. “Have you ever sucked a cock?” Jamey asked me. When I said that I hadn’t, he said, “Neither have I.” Then, taking my hand, he led me to the bed.

I guess that I shouldn’t have been surprised that Jamey was gay. By the way he had leaned against me in class while looking over my shoulder and from some of things that he had said, I should have guessed, but Jamey was a handsome, well-built, popular boy. He was good at sports. He was so different from me. I was shy, terrible at sports, and unpopular. If I was thinking at all, I guess I was surprised by what was happening. I was turned on. Jamey’s presence alone turned me on, and we had watched the video of the two boys on the computer. That had certainly aroused me. Although we had a computer at home, it was in a public area, so I would have never dared to log onto a porn site. Even though I had seen porn videos before, they had all involved men and women, not two boys. Of course, I didn’t resist when he pulled me onto the bed.

“I like you, Paul,” he said, then he kissed me.

It was my first kiss. Jamey was the first person, other than a relative, that I had ever kissed. Seventeen years-old, and I’d never kissed a girl-certainly I had never kissed another boy. As we kissed, he rolled me over onto my back so that he was on top of me. I felt his tongue dart into my mouth-my first French kiss. Sticking mine into his mouth, I could feel his teeth. I ran my tongue over them. Then, feeling his hand on my cock, I came.

He must have felt me come because he said, “Opps, that was quick.”

Although I hadn’t known what to expect-didn’t know how far Jamey wanted to go-I was embarrassed I had come so soon. Wanting so much to please him, I was afraid that he was disappointed I had come so soon. “Shit,” I said, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he said, smiling, as he began taking off my pants. I lifted my ass up slightly to allow him to pull them down, which he did, along with my boxers. Come had pooled on my stomach. My cock was no longer hard. Saying, “Stay there. I’ll be right back,” he went into his bathroom, which adjoined his bedroom. When he came back, he was naked and held a washcloth in his hand.

He was even more beautiful naked. His cock-hard-was about five inches long. His chest muscles were well-developed and his abdomen rippled with muscles. Looking at him, my cock became hard again. “See, I told you there was nothing to worry about.” Then he began washing off my stomach-then my cock. The warm washcloth felt great.

“Careful,” I said, “I’ll come again.”

Saying, “Well, we wouldn’t want to waste it again, would we?” he placed his lips around the head of my cock. It was good that I had just come, otherwise, I would have again-immediately.

“Wait,” I said, then twisted around so that I could take his cock into my mouth-sucking his as he sucked mine.

It wasn’t long before I felt myself about to come. I thought to myself that I’d better tell Jamey so that I wouldn’t come into his mouth, but, at that moment, he came-we came together-into each other’s mouth. I swallowed his come-as he did mine.

I lost track of how many times I came that day, but it must have been about ten. We tried everything-except for fucking; sometimes we’d jack each other off while kissing; sometimes one of us would lay back while the other sucked his cock. All too soon, looking up at the clock, he said, “Oh, shit. My parents are going to be home soon.”

We were still straightening up the bed when we heard the front door open. “Jamey,” a woman called.

“We’re in here, Mom,” he said, as he loaded a computer game. “We’re playing the computer.”

In a moment, I heard someone try the door. “Jamey, why’s the door locked?”

Jumping up, Jamey unlocked the door. A tall, blonde, woman stood at the door. Looking at me-suspiciously, I thought-she said, “Who’s your friend, Jamey?”

I glanced around the room. I could imagine that it smelled like sex, as many times as each of us had come. Although we had wiped our come-the best we could-from the bed spread, it was-if one looked closely-stained. “This is Paul,” he said. “He’s in my class at school.”

“Oh, are you a sophomore, too, Paul?”

“No, I’m a senior,” I answered. “Jamey and I have mechanical drawing together.”

“Can Paul stay for dinner?” Jamey interrupted.

I didn’t wait for an answer. I didn’t like the way his mother was looking at me. I was afraid that she somehow knew what we had done. “I can’t. It’s late. I’ve got to get home.” With my head down-afraid to look his mother in the eye-I almost ran from the house.

When I saw Jamey in school the next day, I asked, “Did your mom know what we’d done?”

“Naw, I’m her little boy. She wouldn’t suspect that I would suck another boy’s cock. You acted a little weird, though-the way you rushed out of the house. I don’t think that she likes you much. She said that you were too old for me, and she was pissed that I had you over. I’m not supposed to have other kids over at the house when my parents aren’t home.”

“Do you want to do it again?” I knew I did. I was in love with Jamey. I was hard just thinking about the day before.

“Of course, I want to do it again,” he said, casually brushing his hand against my hard cock. “Looks like you do, too,” he said, grinning.

“What are we going to do? My mom doesn’t work. We can’t go to my house.”

“I don’t know,” he said, “but, we’ll find a way.”

A couple of days later there was an assembly in the auditorium. “Follow me,” Jamey said, as we were in the hallway on the way to assembly. He led me to a storage closet which was in the back entryway to the library. Opening the door, he pushed me inside.

It was dark after he closed the door. I could see nothing. After a moment, I felt him unbutton my pants then slide them down past my knees. I felt him grasp my cock in his hand, then slide it into his mouth. Holding his head in my hands, I thrust my hips, plunging my cock into his mouth-coming all too soon. There wasn’t enough room to lie down, so we took turns sucking each other’s cock. When we heard other people in the hall, we quickly dressed, entering the hall as others were returning from assembly.

It was two weeks before the next assembly, and since Jamey’s mother had been checking up on him, frequently calling him at home, we hadn’t been able to see each other after school. She might not have known what we were doing that day, but she had evidently suspected that we had been up to something. Telling Jamey that he needed to make friends among kids of his own age, she had told him not to see me again.

While the other students went to the auditorium, we went to our closet. Nothing had happened before. We thought that we would be safe there-although, after two weeks, we were so horny for each other, that we weren’t too careful. We didn’t check to make sure that the librarian had gone to the assembly. Jamey had pulled down my pants and was sucking my cock when she opened the door. She had been working in the library and had apparently heard us.

I was arrested, charged with the rape of a child, and sentenced to prison. I never saw Jamey again. Although he refused to testify against me, they had the librarian, who had seen us.

________________________________________________________________

“How unfair,” I said, after listening to Harris’s story. “If anything, he seduced you. He initiated the whole affair.”

“None of that mattered. The only thing that mattered was that I was two years older than he.”