Conflict

As Jesse listened to the sounds coming from his father’s bedroom across the hall, he slid his boxers down below his crotch with his left hand and began stoking his erect penis with his right. Although Jesse hated that his dad was screwing another bimbo in his mother’s bed, he was aroused by the sounds he heard coming through the wall. He was fifteen years-old and had never been with a girl, His climax approached as he listened to the moans from the other room crescendo until, as they peaked in intensity, his cum spurted out onto his stomach. Jesse stiffened as the orgasm washed over his body; then, after its consummation, after relaxing for a moment, he pulled off his boxers and used them to wipe the cum from his stomach.

Although jerking off had been physically pleasurable, Jesse immediately felt guilty, as though he had been the one that was cheating on his mother, instead of his father, who, technically, wasn’t cheating either, since Jesse’s mother had been dead for two months. Jesse missed his mother immensely. He and his mother, who had died of breast cancer, had been extremely close. She had come into his room each night to tuck him into bed and to give him a good night kiss. Now, there was only he and his father, a stock broker, who had always been too immersed in his career to devote much time to his only child, a father that brought young, pretty, women home almost every night to fuck in Jesse’s mother’s bed-to fuck while Jesse listened. He hated his father for what Jesse thought was a betrayal of his mother, or, at least, of her memory, and he despised his inability to resist masturbating while listening to the sounds coming from his father’s room; but, when his cock became hard-began throbbing-he couldn’t keep his hand off of it. His cock betrayed him, just as his father betrayed his mother. He cried himself to sleep, starved for his mother’s affection.

“Jesse, get up. You’re going to be late for school, and that creepy friend of yours, Jerry, is waiting for you in the kitchen. Come on, get your butt out of bed,” said Jesse’s father, Richard, the next morning. Jesse was Richard Jesse McCartney III.

His father left the room, leaving the door open. Jesse waited until he left to get out of bed. Since he’d used his boxers the night before to clean himself, he was naked, and he had a morning erection. As he threw back the covers, he looked up to see Jerry standing in the doorway. Jerry’s gaze was fixed on Jesse’s erect penis. Turning his back to Jerry, Jesse scurried for his chest of drawers, where he quickly obtained another pair of boxers.

“Hey, Dude, what’s the matter? You’ve got nothing to be ashamed of,” said Jerry, noticing Jesse’s red face.

“I’m not ashamed,” said Jesse, looking over his shoulder at Jerry, as he pulled on his boxers. You surprised me, that’s all.”

Jesse’s face became red again when Jerry said, “Shit, I wish my cock was that big. Do you always sleep in the nude?”

“No-just sometimes.” He kept his back turned to Jerry as he slipped on his jeans. His cock was still hard. Somehow, Jerry’s presence did that to him.

“Fuck, you’ve got a cool crib, Dude,” said Jerry, “a big screen TV, computer, sound system, everything, all in your room.”

“It’s OK, I guess,” answered Jesse.

“OK, shit. You ought to see my room. All I have in it is a bed, and I’ve got to share the room with my little brother. It sucks.”

Jesse had recently become friends with Jerry, who was from a poorer part of town. Most of his other friends thought that he had become weird, since, because of his mother’s death, he had become moody and withdrawn. Under Jerry’s influence, he’d begun to skip school and shoplift, even though his dad bought him everything he needed.

Jerry was a sensual boy with long brown hair and large brown eyes. He had a tattoo on his neck and several piercings, including one through each nipple, which, he exhibited often by frequently removing his shirt. The sight of his bare chest usually caused Jesse to have an erection. It did now, when Jerry, sitting on Jesse’s bed, pulled off his shirt. Jesse embarrassed again, this time because the sight of Jerry’s bare chest had caused his erection-he wasn’t gay he told himself-turned to hide the bulge in his jeans.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“What do you mean? Oh, you mean the shirt. Just getting comfortable. Why, does it bother you?” asked Jerry, raising one eyebrow and looking at Jesse’s butt, which was turned toward him.

“No-it doesn’t bother me. Come on. Let’s go.”

“Aren’t you going to get something to eat? asked Jerry.

“No, I’ll grab something at the 7-Eleven on the way.”

“Let’s cut school today,” suggested Jerry. “There’s something I want to show you.”

“I don’t know if I should. The school called my dad, the last time, and I got into trouble.”

“Come on. It’ll be worth it. I guarantee it.”

The boys caught a bus across town to a fairly nice neighborhood, not as nice as Jesse’s-his father had a six figure income-but much nicer than Jerry’s. After leaving the bus they walked until they came to a house. A car, covered with a fitted car cover, was in the driveway.

“Check this out, Dude,” said Jerry as he lifted the cover off the car.

“Shit, a 1966 Ford Shelby GT350 Mustang-my dream car; it’s cherry, too, but who lives here? Won’t we get in trouble? asked Jesse.

“No-no one’s home. Want to take it for a spin?”

“You mean-steal it. I can’t hot wire a car, can you?”

“Won’t need to,” said Jerry as he dangled a set of car keys in front of Jesse’s eyes.

“Are those for this car? Where did you get them?”

“That’s for me to know,” answered Jerry. “Do you want to go for a drive or not? Not chicken, are you?”

After unlocking the driver’s side door, Jerry slid under the wheel, and leaned over to unlock the other door. Jesse hesitated beside the door for a moment; then opened it and slid onto the seat. Slamming the door, he said, “Come on. Let’s go.”

When the car started with a deep throated roar, Jerry slammed it into reverse, backed out of the driveway, shifted to low gear, and burned the tires as he sped down the street. The acceleration threw Jesse back into his seat. “Dude,” he said, “this car is bad.”

Jerry sped through the residential streets, down the ramp onto the freeway, then turned off on a road that wound up into the hills overlooking the Santa Clara Valley. The tires screeched as the car raced through the curves; then, pulling off on the shoulder of the road, Jerry said, “Hey, you want to drive?”

“Yeah, but I’ve never driven a stick,” replied Jesse.

“It’s not that hard-watch.” Then, as he slowly let out on the clutch, he pressed the accelerator with his other foot, Jerry said, “See. Give it some gas as you let out on the clutch.”

Jerry demonstrated using the clutch to start from a standing position; then showed Jesse how to shift gears. When they came to another wide shoulder, he pulled off the road, and stopped the car. “O.K., you try it,” he said.

The car jumped and stalled when Jesse let out on the clutch too fast; but, after a couple of attempts, he pulled the car onto the road. Negotiating the curves and shifting gears at the same time proved too much for him, however. When he missed a gear in an attempt to downshift while going into a curve, the car slid into a ditch. Both boys-neither were wearing seat belts- were thrown into the windshield. Although stunned, they weren’t hurt seriously. Jerry received a bump on the forehead and Jesse a black eye. The car, however, wasn’t going anywhere.

“Fuck, man,” exclaimed Jerry. “What the fuck are we going to do now? I intended to get this car back before the dude got home.”

The boys got out to look at the car. The passenger side front wheel was no longer parallel to its mate, and the right front fender was damaged.

“Let’s get out of here before a car comes by,” said Jerry.

The boys walked until they eventually caught a ride from a passing motorist; but it was dark before Jesse returned home. His father had come home early-for a change.

“Where have you been-and what happened to you?” he asked, noticing Jesse’s black eye.

“Oh, this?” Jesse said, as his hand went to his injured eye, “I was playing football with some of my friends.”

“I got another call from the school. They said that you cut school today. I want you to stay away from that Jerry kid. He’s a bad influence on you.”

“Well, I want you to stop bringing those bimbos home. I want you to stop fucking them in Mom’s bed.”

“Watch your God-damned language, and I don’t need a kid telling me what I can, or can not do.”

Jesse turned away, walked to his room, slammed and locked his door, and threw himself on his bed.

His father, stopped by the locked door, said, “Jesse, open this door. I wasn’t through talking to you.” Jesse turned on his TV, turning up the volume.

“Remember what I told you,” said Richard, shouting through the door, over the noise of the television. “Stay away from Jerry; and you’d better go to school tomorrow.” He left the house. He had a dinner date.

Jesse’s father didn’t come home that night; he still wasn’t home when Jesse woke up the next morning. Jesse showered, ate breakfast, and caught the bus to school. Jerry wasn’t there.

One of Jesse’s former friends, Kevin, came up to him in the hall. “Where’s your boyfriend today? he asked.

“What do you mean, my boyfriend? I don’t have any boyfriend.”

“I’m talking about Jerry. You guys are lovers, aren’t you?

“Fuck you. Jerry and me never’ve done anything. I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m no fucking queer.”

“Well, if you hang around with gay guys, it kind of figures that you must be gay, huh?”

“Are you saying that Jerry’s gay? He’s not; he’s told me about girls he’s fucked,” said Jesse.

“Jerry’ll fuck anything, or will let anyone fuck him, if the money’s right.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“All right, asshole, believe what you want,” said Kevin, as he walked off.

Although, Jesse had defended Jerry, Kevin’s words had caused Jesse to wonder, not only about Jerry, but about himself. What if Jerry was gay? Why did his cock get hard so often when he was around Jerry? Did it mean that he was gay, too? He couldn’t accept being gay. He and all his friends had always looked down on gays.

Jerry wasn’t at school that morning because Roger had been waiting for him. It was Roger’s car that the boys had taken.

“Where’s my fucking car?” he asked Jerry.

“What car?”

“My mustang. You know what car. You took my keys when you spent the night at my house. You’re the only one that could have. Now, where’s my fucking car?”

Roger had a predilection for pubescent boys. He had regularly fucked Jerry, paying him for sex. Although he’d never given Jerry cause to fear him, there was something about Roger’s manner that morning that frightened Jerry.

“We were just going to take it for a drive, but the other kid, who was driving, ran it into a ditch. I’ll show you where it is.”

The car was still in the ditch, but it had been vandalized. The tires, along with the custom rims, had been stolen.

“Shit,” said Roger, the tires and rims alone, were worth $1000. It’s going to cost me $3000 to repair this car. Who the fuck is going to pay for this, you?”

“You’ve got insurance, don’t you?” asked Jerry.

“Yeah, $500 deductible, and I’ll have to file a police report. Do you want me to give your name to the police?”

“No, do you want me to tell them you’ve been fucking me?”

“Hey, mother fucker, if you want to keep living, don’t even joke about that. O.K., I won’t tell the police, but I want to know who this other kid is. Someone’s gonna pay me-one way or the other.”

“His name is Jesse McCartney. He lives over on Webster.”

“That’s a rizzy neighborhood, is he rich?”

“His dad’s a stock broker, or something. They appear to be rich.”

“Is he hot?”

Jerry hesitated for a moment, licked his lips, then said, “Yeah, he’s hot.”

“Describe him to me.”

“He’s about 5’9”, blond hair and blue eyes.”

“How old is he?”

“Fifteen.”

“Is he hung?”

Gazing, as if at something distant, Jerry nodded his head. “Yeah,” he said. “He’s hung-good.”

“All right. I want to meet this kid. You arrange it; it better be soon. We might be able to work out a way you guys can pay for my car. Are you fucking him?”

“No-we’ve never done nothing.”

Raising one eyebrow, Roger said, “You haven’t done anything? What’s going on with you, Jerry? You’d fuck anything that walks, and some things that don’t.”

“Oh, he doesn’t like to think that he might be gay, or something; but, he gets hard when he looks at me, especially when I take off my shirt.”

“Yeah, and knowing you, you deliberately try to turn him on.” Jerry just smiled.

Richard arrived home early. It was the Wednesday before Thanksgiving.

“Cheryl and I are going to Acapulco for the holidays, so you’ll be here by yourself. Here’s some money. I want you to behave yourself, and stay away from that creep, Jerry.” Cheryl was Richard’s latest girlfriend.

“What about Thanksgiving dinner? What am I going to do for Thanksgiving dinner? Jesse’s mom had always prepared a feast for Thanksgiving.

“You can go out to a restaurant. That’s what we would have done, if I’d stayed home, anyway. Look, here’s another $50. That makes $150. That’s enough money to buy a good dinner and still have plenty to spend.”

“Fuck it. You don’t give a shit about me.”

“Watch your mouth, Jesse. I don’t want to hear that kind of language. Sure, I care about you. Look, when I get back, we’ll go skiing, or something.”

“Yeah, and will that bimbo, Cheryl, come along, too?

“Cheryl’s no bimbo, Jesse. I don’t want to hear you talk about her like that.

Leaving the money on the counter where his father had placed it, Jesse turned away from Richard and walked to his room, slamming the door as he entered. Before long he heard his father leave the house.

His father didn’t love him, Jesse thought, as tears streamed from his eyes. Loneliness overwhelmed him. How could he leave him alone at Thanksgiving-at a time when he was missing his mother more than ever? He was still crying when the phone rang.

“What’s up, Dude? asked Jerry.

“Nothing,” replied Jesse, sniffling.

“Is your dad home?

“No, he’s gone for the holidays. He took one of his bimbos to Acapulco.

“Acapulco-awesome, How come you didn’t go?”

“He didn’t ask me.”

“What are you doing for Thanksgiving?

“Nothing.”

“So, you’re going to be on your own for four days?”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

“Cool-Hey, is it all right if I come over-and bring a friend?” asked Jerry.

“What friend?”

“His name is Roger. He’s cool. He wants to meet you. What’s the matter, you afraid of pissing off your dad?”

“No, come on over. I don’t care if I piss my dad off, or not.”

Jesse watched TV until they arrived about thirty minutes later. He was surprised when he answered the door to see a fairly attractive man, about thirty years-old, with Jerry.

“Hey, Dude,” said Jerry as he pushed his way past Jesse. “Oh, this is Roger. Roger, this is Jesse.”

“Hi, Jesse.” said Roger as he followed Jerry into the house.

Jesse stood for a moment staring at their backs; then followed them into the house.

They talked about various things of interest to boys: cars, movies, video games. Jesse was surprised that Roger knew so much about things that interested him. He felt himself warming up to Roger. It was nice, for a change, to have an adult seem interested in him, and in the same things that he enjoyed. They even played a Playstation II game together. Jesse won, but Roger made it a tough contest.

“Jerry tells me that your dad went to Acapulco for the holidays. Is that right?” asked Roger.

“Yeah,” replied Jesse.

“What are you doing for Thanksgiving, then?

“I don’t know. I guess I’ll just hang out here-probably fix myself something out of the fridge.”

“Hey, my mom is coming to my house tomorrow to fix Thanksgiving dinner. Why don’t both you and Jerry come over?”

“I don’t know. I guess I’ll just stay here.”

When Roger looked over at Jerry, Jerry quickly said, “Come on, Jesse. I’m going. Come along to keep me company. His mom is a good cook.”

Jesse, not really wanting to spend Thanksgiving alone, said, “O.K., I’ll come. What time?”

Jerry and I’ll come over to pick you up about 11:00 AM. We’ll probably eat about 2:00 PM.

Roger and Jerry picked up Jesse promptly at 11:00 AM and drove to Roger’s house. Skillfully engaging Jesse in conversation, Roger persuaded him to talk about himself and his interests, keeping him so preoccupied that he didn’t realize where he was until they pulled into Roger’s driveway. His eyes wide open with shock, Jesse turned to look at Jerry who was in the back seat. Jerry shifted his eyes down and to the side to avoid Jesse’s gaze.

Noticing Jesse’s look and the expression on his face, Roger said, “Yeah, it was my car you guys stole,” but seeing the look of panic that came into Jesse’s eyes when he said that, added, “But take it easy. I’m not going to tell the police. Although you guys caused a lot of damage to my car-and it is my baby-we can figure out some way for you to work it off.”

As soon as the car stopped, Jesse opened his door and quickly began walking away.

Opening his door and standing up beside the car, Roger called after Jesse, “You don’t want to run away from this, Jesse. If you do, you’ll leave me no choice, but to call the cops, and Jerry will say that it was all your idea. Come on back. Let’s have dinner. We can work this out.”

Feeling trapped-and betrayed by Jerry-but perceiving no alternative, Jesse walked back to the car. Roger, placing his arm around Jesse’s shoulder, said, “That’s better. Now, let’s go meet my mom. You’ll like her.”

Jesse did like Alice, Roger’s mother, who prepared a traditional holiday feast, just as his mom always had. Although there were other guests, she seemed to single out Jesse, paying him special attention. In many ways, even though she was older, she reminded him of his mother. He still missed his mother, but, somehow, the pain of his loss was lessened by Alice’s presence. Jesse, relaxing-no longer thinking about the car-watched football on TV and enjoyed the first family gathering that he had experienced since his mother died.

When Roger took him home that afternoon, he suggested, glancing back at Jerry, who was in the back seat, “Why don’t you spend the night with Jesse?”

“Sure, that’d be great,” replied Jerry. “Is it O.K., Jesse?”

“Well, I don’t know," answered Jesse, who was still a little angry at Jerry.”

“Come on-please. Holidays are always hell at my house. My dad will have been drinking, and he’ll probably end up beating my mom and, maybe, even me.”

“O.K. I guess so. You can sleep in the guest room.”

Jesse forgot about being angry as they played video games on his playstation II. Distracted by Jerry’s bare chest and his own throbbing cock, he even lost a couple of games. It was almost 12 AM when he said, “I guess we should go to bed, huh?”

“Guess so,” said Jerry, as, walking over to the bed, he sat down and began taking off his shoes.”

“Aren’t you going to sleep in the guest room?”

“Let me sleep in here. We can watch TV for a while.” He pulled off his jeans and socks, leaving him wearing nothing but his boxer shorts.

Although he was frightened by what he was feeling-his erect penis was throbbing-he was also excited by the idea of sleeping in the same bed as Jerry. Saying, “O.K.,” he sat down on the opposite side of the bed and pulled off his jeans, being careful to keep his back turned to Jerry-to hide his erection-until he slid under the covers. They had only watched TV a few moments when he felt Jerry’s hand on his cock. He ejaculated immediately. Jerry, feeling the wetness of his cum, slid Jesse’s shorts down past his crotch and off his feet, then removed his own. Grasping Jesse’s cock in his hand, Jerry slid his head under the covers, taking Jesse’s cock into his mouth. Jesse’s second orgasm occurred soon after.

Jesse took no active role, but was completely unable to resist Jerry’s sexual use of his body. He gasped when Jerry inserted his penis into his ass, but came again from combination of the stimulation of Jerry’s cock on his prostate and the manipulation of Jerry’s hand on his penis. It was the most exquisite orgasm that he’d ever experienced. He didn’t even resist when, afterward, Jerry kissed him, running his tongue into his mouth. Jesse had no idea how many times he climaxed that night, but it was more than he’d ever experienced in one day, possibly more than he’d ever experienced in a week. Eventually, both boys, exhausted physically and sexually rolled over to their sides of the bed. Jesse turned his back to Jerry.

“Dude,” said Jerry, “that was good. You were good.”

Not being able to understand Jesse’s mumbled reply, he asked, “What?”

“I’m not queer,” said Jesse, louder this time.

“No one said you were. Hey, this was just sex. Why do have to define it as gay or straight? Sex is just sex. It doesn’t matter who you do it with. Hell, I like to fuck girls, too. Don’t you?”

Again, unable to understand Jesse’s reply he asked him to repeat it.

“I said that I’d never been with a girl. This is the first time I ever had sex with anyone.”

“Well, you’ll get to have it with your second person tomorrow.”

“What do you mean?”

“With Roger, dumbnuts. What do you think he was talking about when he said we could work off the damage we did to his car?”

“Have you had sex with him?”

“Yeah, several times. How do you think I got his car keys. I took them off the dresser after spending the night with him. He’s O.K. He never does any of the weird shit, and he pays well.”

“Do you do that kind of thing all the time-have sex with guys for money?”

“Hey, man-I’m not rich like you. I’ve got to get my bread somehow, and it’s hard to find a girl that’ll pay.”

“Well, I’m not doing anything with Roger,” declared Jesse.

“You’d better, else he’ll turn us both into the cops, and, since your dad’s not around, they’ll keep you in jail. Hell, you’d probably get fucked in jail, anyway. Besides, you can’t tell me you didn’t like it. How many times did you cum-about ten?”

Since Jesse didn’t reply to that, or anything else that Jerry said to him, Jerry rolled over onto his side and went to sleep. Jesse lay awake, unable to sleep, brooding. He didn’t want to have sex with Roger, but was afraid that, just as he’d been unable to resist Jerry, he would have no more success resisting Roger. In fact, his cock, betraying him, got hard as he thought about having sex with Roger. Thinking of one way to end the conflict between his mind, which abhorred the idea of gay sex, and his body, which relished it, he crawled from bed, went to his dresser where he found his hunting knife-a knife he always kept razor sharp, then walked into his bathroom where he stood, knife in one hand, staring down at his penis. If he had no cock, then Roger wouldn’t be interested in having sex with him., and he wouldn’t have a cock that got hard every time he was around Jerry. Grasping it by the head with one hand, he sliced it off with the knife.

(This is a possible ending for this story, letting each individual reader make up his own ending; but I’ll probably write my conclusion. Let me know, if you wish to read it.)