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  1. chessdude


    Thanks so much man. That’s one of the highest compliments you could pay me. I agree. I think that, although it’s clearly fiction, it isn’t outside the realm of possibility. I want there to be a good amount of realism to it. Like you I’m sure this sort of thing has happened to someone somewhere at some point. I’m writing their story lol.
  2. chessdude


    Hehe, The amount of emails I've gotten from people who have similar feelings as Ian has astounded me. I mean, it's just really amazing that so many people have gone through all those same insecurities and somewhat "forbidden" feelings. I think that adds an interesting dimension to his character. I had no idea so many people would relate to it! Thanks man.
  3. chessdude


    Haha, I guess only time will tell! Thanks for commenting Arran. I appreciate it so much.
  4. chessdude


    Haha! Sorry to put you through that. But I felt it was kind of an important and interesting way for that whole somewhat taboo topic to be revealed. But no this book will not be filled with foot scenes lol. You should be safe for a while haha. Thanks for the comment!
  5. chessdude


    Such a great comment man. I've been out of town the last week so I'm just now able to read these. Thank you so much. I love the broken necklace analogy. This was a scary chapter to write for me, mainly because it sets the stage for the upcoming conflict. I'm so glad you liked it man. ❤️
  6. chessdude


    Thanks man. That means so much to me.
  7. chessdude


    Thanks so much man!
  8. Ollie won $2,300 bucks! He came in second place behind GM Igor Morozevich! I finished out the tournament with 2.5 out of 5. Ollie tells me that that’s a great result. In a couple days I’ll be able to check my rating online at the USCF website! I’m official! Ian Ferri, tournament chess player extraordinaire… Shit… Maybe I should get some business cards printed. It was Monday evening and I was sitting in my room doing some makeup work for the fourth period class I missed last Friday. I was just getting into the groove when I heard a stampede plowing up the stairs… The door to my room swung open. “Sara? Devan? What the hell?” I asked, startled. “We’re here for your intervention.” Sara said, taking off her backpack. “Uh… What?” I asked. “Bro, you’ve been MIA for like three weeks now. You’re slow to respond to texts. You haven’t hung out with us hardly at all. The fuck, dude?” Devan asked, plopping down on my piano chair. “About that…” I started. “And don’t give us any bullshit about being ‘overwhelmed’…” Sara said, dropping onto my bed. These two act like they live here! Shit! What do I say? “I’m sorry guys. Seriously. I’ve been… Distracted.” I said, looking at my desk. “Distracted by what?” Devan asked. “You STILL haven’t told him!?” Sara asked, exasperated. “Told me what?” Devan asked, looking confused. Thanks Sara, great timing. My mind went into overdrive. I wasn’t sure whether I should play the card Sara just handed me or put off this conversation for a few more weeks… Shit, I knew the longer I waited the madder he’d be that I hadn’t told him. Fuck. Let me just get this over with. It’s better to tell him with Sara here anyway. “Devan… There’s… Uh… Something I’ve been meaning to tell you.” Sara stood back up, “And if you get pissed off or pitch a fit, I’ll rip your balls off and keep them as a souvenir. Got it?” She was giving him the eyes of death. I’d hate to be on her bad side… That bitch is ruthless. And Devan knew it. “Okay. Okay. Jesus… So what is it? You a father or something?” He said, with a smile. “Promise you won’t tell anyone what I’m about to say.” I said, barely able to look at him. “Bro… Do you know who you’re talking to? When the fuck have I ever gone behind your back and said anything?” He asked, offended. “JUST MAKE THE DAMN PROMISE!” Sara shouted. She looked like a tiger waiting in the grass, ready to pounce should the situation require it. God I love her. Both Devan and I did. She’s such a fiery bitch. There’s something so sexy about a hot girl with balls the size of an elephant. “Jesus Fucking Christ. I promise not to say anything. Someone hand this bitch a Xanax.” He said. “It’ll take a whole bottle of Xanax to pry me off your ass if you don’t straighten the fuck up.” She said, sitting back on the bed. I burst out laughing… I couldn’t help it. I forgot how much I missed these two. Devan was giggling despite how pissed off he probably was at her. Devan’s giggles always make me laugh harder. He has this adorable high pitched giggle that he does sometimes. It’s almost cartoonish. And my laughing makes him giggle more. But the gravity of the situation brought me back to reality. “Okay… I’m just gonna say it. Here goes…” My heart was pounding in my ears. I really didn’t know what to expect. I’d heard Devan call things ‘gay’ before. He’d never really said much about gay people… I was pretty sure he wouldn’t freak, but I wasn’t positive. “I’m… Shit… I’m… Goddamnit… I’m…. g-gay.” I stuttered out. He sat there. Looking at me. He looked at Sara. She was staring him down. Her brow furrowed. He looked back at me. “You’re… You are?” He asked, his head tilted. “Yeah.” I said, looking at the wall. “How long have you been like that?” He asked. “His whole life, dipshit.” Sara interjected. “I mean… How long have you known?” “Um… Probably since I was in third grade or so… I… Uh… Had crushes on boys and stuff starting around then…” I said, unable to maintain eye-contact with him. He stood up. He’s going to leave. Fuck, I knew I should’ve waited. I fucking KNEW it. He walked towards me. Shit. Is he gonna hit me? Sara jumped up from the bed with her fists clinched. Before she could get to me he had pulled me out of my computer chair and into a tight hug. Then the waterworks started. I fucking burst into tears. I didn’t expect that to happen. But it did. I was so much more relieved than I thought I’d be. I didn’t realize until he hugged me how much I wanted his approval. How much I cared about what his opinion of me was. “I love you, bro. You know that. This doesn’t change anything.” He said. I nodded against his shoulder. I gained my composure as quickly as I could. God, Sara was right. She told me he’d handle it well and he did. What a relief. Later that evening we were all sitting on my floor, Devan playing 20 questions regarding my gayness. “So like, when you see a dick… You wanna suck it?” He asked, his face contemplative. Sara rolled her eyes as she scrolled through her Instagram. She had checked out of this conversation a while ago. “Um… Not really. I don’t wanna suck every dick I see, dude. It’s about more than just dicks anyway.” I said, being patient with him. “Hmmm…” He was evaluating my answers like I was giving him deep insight into the universe. “Ok, so on a scale from one to ten how hot am I?” He asked. I fell on my back laughing. Sara looked up at him with a disgusted expression. “What?” He asked. “I’m…” I caught my breath, “I’m not answering that… You’re like a brother to me. I don’t think about you like that.” He gave me the most offended look ever. “What the fuck? You’re saying I’m not hot or something?” I laughed even harder. Sara was looking at him like he’d just shot the pope. Her mouth open. Giving him the most disdainful look I’d ever seen. It only made me laugh harder. “Oh ma god… Stop! I can’t take it… You’re a great looking guy, Dev. Don’t go getting a complex over it.” I said, staring at the ceiling. Sara chimed in, “Only you could make someone ELSE’S coming out story about YOU.” I went into another laughing fit. “I was just curious.” Devan shrugged, giggling. Sara sat up straight, “Ok. What about the guy you like? Is that why you’ve been so reclusive lately?” “I’m… Still working on that. But yeah, that’s been what’s taking up most of my time. I’m sorry about all that. I’m gonna be better about juggling everything from now on.” “Wait a minute…” Devan looked like he’d just put two and two together, which for him was rare, “Is it that guy that was here? That day you hurt your back… That’s gotta be him!” Sara perked right up, “Oh my God. Who was it?” “Devan STOP. It’s not him. It’s another guy. That was just a friend I met at the chess club.” FUCK. I could tell neither of them believed me. But I had to stick with this lie. I swore to Ollie I would never tell. And that means even the people I’m closest to. “Suuuuuuuuure.” Devan said. Sara could barely hold herself back. I could tell. She wanted to bug me about it. But knew better. “When the time is right I’ll tell you guys. But right now I can’t, ok? I can’t.” I said. Eventually we moved onto other topics. “I’m having a Halloween party Saturday. And you’re going. So get a costume.” Sara said. “I might bring a friend.” I said. Fuck, this was so obvious. “A… Friend?” Sara asked, a wicked smile on her face. “Yes. FRIEND.” Fuck! “Yeah, Sara. It’ll be nice to meet his… FRIEND.” Devan said, in an exaggerated tone. “I love meeting FRIENDS…” She said, with a smile. “STOP IT!” I shouted, both of them giggling at me. I continued, “It’s not him! I’m gonna bring my friend from the chess club. His name’s Oliver. He’s a cool guy. You guys will like him. And he’s NOT gay. And it’s NOT him. So don’t be pretending like it is. He doesn’t know I’m like that. So don’t fucking hint around.” That’s better. Hopefully that’ll sow enough doubt in their minds. Hopefully… *** “My friend Sara Snider is having a Halloween party on Saturday… I want you to come with me.” I said, giving Ollie my puppy-dog eyes. It was Thursday, and I had just picked him up from Mobile Storage Plus off of Burnett, where he and his dad had been cleaning out their storage unit in preparation for their upcoming yard sale. We were heading to my place to spend the evening. “But… I don’t even know her. I mean, I know of her. But I don’t know her personally.” Ollie responded. “Well, I do. She’s one of my best friends. And my friends are her friends. Come on, dude… Say yes.” “I guess…” “YES! It’ll be so fun!” I said, bouncing in my seat. “Is the guy who tried to kill me gonna be there?” He asked, with a smirk. “Who? Devan? Yeah, definitely. He’s a great guy. He’s the most loyal friend on earth. Just give him a chance.” I said. “You know we can’t be like… Acting any kind of way right?” He said, with a serious expression. “You haven’t told them anything, have you?” “Of course not… Dude, seriously? I would never do that. Besides, I don’t even know what we are… Do enlighten me.” I said. He didn’t respond. Per usual. We arrived at my house and walked in. “Uh, my mom has a new rule about shoes. We have to leave them at the door.” I said, quietly, trying to sound nonchalant. There was no rule, ok? I just wanted his shoes off. Stop judging me! “My feet are killing me anyway, I’ve been moving furniture all fuckin’ day.” He said, a little too loudly, while taking off his checkered vans. “Language!” I heard my mom shout from the kitchen. Nosey. As. Hell. Doesn’t she have anything better to do than spy on people? “Sorry, Mrs. Ferri.” Ollie said, subdued. “He said ‘freakin’ mom… Stop making up stuff!” She walked into the entryway pulling a face but it softened as soon as she recognized him. “Oliver! It’s good to see you. Are you staying for dinner?” Golden boy can do no wrong apparently. I guess I should be happy about that. “Um… I’d… Do you mind, Ian?” Ollie asked. The fuck kind of theatrical display is this? Do I mind? Someone hand this guy an Emmy. “Sure, I’m cool with that.” I said, keeping it chill. “Wonderful! Dinner should be ready in about an hour… Don’t spoil your appetites! We’re having Nona Leda’s Lasagna.” “Nice! You like Italian food, Oliver?” I asked, worried. “I love it.” Whew… Dinner was guaranteed to be a slam dunk then… My Nona’s recipes are the best. Real Italian cooking. Leda is my dad’s mom. We call her Nona. Calling her ‘grandma’ will get you a slap upside the head. She does NOT answer to that word. We aren’t allowed to even use that word around her. She’s old-school Italian, with a thick, rich Italian accent - which happens to be one of my favorite things about her. I have so many memories of her screaming at me in Italian… Usually for leaving the lights on after leaving a room… Good times… You have to understand, Italians show love through loud screaming. It’s just something you learn to love. It makes family gatherings strangely endearing. I used to just wait for someone to piss Nona off. My dad has three brothers, all of who have kids. So family gatherings are a major event… It usually takes less than thirty minutes for her to go off on someone. Causing the rest of us to basically point and laugh at whoever pissed her off. Gotta love Italian women… Ollie and I headed up to my room. “Whoa… You have a couch in here now!?” Ollie said, looking astonished. “Yeah man. It’s the one from downstairs. My parents got a new one.” My parents had bought a new couch two days ago, and I had convinced them to let me put the old one in my room… You see, my room was massive. It used to be our upstairs game room, but nobody ever used it… Well, when I was 14 or so, Nona Leda was watching me while my parents were on their anniversary trip. I loved it when she watched me because she never cared which movies I rented. American Beauty? No problem. American Pie Unrated Cut? Add it to the stack. She didn’t give a fuck. Back to the point I was making… I decided to just move all my shit into the game room while my parents were out of town. I called Devan and together we moved my stuff in there while Nona was downstairs playing Solitaire on the computer. That was like her favorite thing to do at the time. She was OBSESSED with Solitaire. Borderline OCD-level obsessed. When my parents got back it took them three weeks to notice that I had taken over that room. They instructed me to get my things out of there and that I couldn’t just move into any room in the house. That was three years ago. We’ve never really talked about it since. So I now had a full-sized couch in my room. It was basically a little apartment up there. Minus a kitchen or a bathroom. My bathroom was next door though… Nobody used it but me, because, as I’ve said before, my parents pretty much never went upstairs. Their bedroom was on the ground-floor. Upstairs was all mine. Ollie and I were both stretched out on the couch, our feet resting on a makeshift coffee table I had harvested from my mom’s sewing room. “How was the workday with your dad?” I asked. “Horrible. I fucking hate spending time with him.” He said. “Wanna talk about it?” “Not particularly… Damn, my back hurts. My feet hurt. Everything hurts.” He said, stretching out on the couch. “Um… Rest your feet on my lap. I… Uh… I can… give you a foot rub…” I said, trying not to sound too eager. “Dude, no. I’ve been wearing shoes all day… My feet are gross right now.” He said, in a firm tone. Why am I not grossed out by that? Why do I still want to do it? Shit, I want to do it even more now… God, it’s true… I’m one of those freaks! Wait… Liking feet can’t be worse than sticking your tongue up someone’s ass… I mean, come on… Everybody’s ok with that! Oh, you eat ass? Right on, bro! But if you like feet, all the sudden you’re some kind of weirdo?? Some sort of perverted freak?? Fuck that! I’m NOT weird. I’m NOT a freak. I’m not, right? I like HIS feet… I don’t like just anybody’s feet. I like HIS feet. Even his smelly feet, ok? Wanna judge me? Go ahead. I’m over it. “Ian?” Ollie asked, pulling me out of my trance. “Uh, yeah?” I said, trying to sound normal. “You’ve been staring at my feet for like two minutes now.” “Uh… I… Wha…. Have NOT!” I said, flustered. He was looking at me. Analyzing. “I don’t know what you’re trying to say.” I said, a little too quickly. “Oh my God.” He said. Oh fuck. No. No. No. NO. NO. NO! NOOOOOOOOO!!!!! “I don’t know what you’re implying. And I don’t appreciate it.” I said, getting even more defensive. “Oh my God.” He said again. “Don’t you DARE accuse me of that!” I said, my leg bouncing, sweat forming on my forehead. “Oh. My. God.” I was about to have a panic attack. Shit. I couldn’t tell if he was going to make fun of me or freak out or what. “Fine! Call me a freak! It’s what you’re thinking. Tell me I’m disgusting. Just stop doing whatever it is you’re doing, ok? There’s nothing you can say to me that I haven’t said to myself… So just fucking say it.” I said, very agitated. My reaction startled him, and I immediately felt horrible for snapping. But I was super sensitive about that issue! How was I supposed to react? Especially not knowing what he really thought about the whole thing. I was looking forward. I was almost to the point of tears. I was that mad. He didn’t have to be such an asshole about such a sensitive subject! I’m just some big joke to him. Some kind of amusing fool. That’s what I am. A circus animal. Something to be dissected and analyzed… An alien. I was getting myself madder and madder just sitting there waiting for him to say something. I leaned forward and covered my face with my hands, trying to hide how upset I was. Trying to forget what had just happened. Wondering why I couldn’t lie to him as easily as I could lie to my parents. Why he could see past the walls I thought were so impenetrable. I felt exposed in the worst way possible. “I need to use the restroom.” I said. I got up from the couch and left the room. I couldn’t handle the tension. I wasn’t sure if that could have gone any worse than it did. What the hell was he thinking about for so long? God for such a quick thinker he sure takes his time when it matters… I turned on the bathroom fan and locked the door, sitting on the toilet. I hated this! I wanted to have a fun night. I didn’t want all this awkward tension between us. “DINNER’S READY!!” I heard from downstairs. Great. Now we have to go down there with this hanging over everything. I opened the door to the bathroom and almost bumped into Ollie. He was standing there with a solemn look on his face. I pushed everything I was feeling down… Deep down. I didn’t want him to be uncomfortable. I was still upset. But I wasn’t going to make dinner awkward over it. “Come on. Let’s eat.” I said. I started walking towards the stairs with Ollie following behind me. We went downstairs and grabbed our plates. I noticed Ollie only took a modest amount of food, and knowing how hard he’d been working that day I knew he was hungrier than that. “Dude, take more. That’s like a kid’s portion. I know you’re hungry.” I said, in a soft voice. He smiled at me, and added significantly more food to his plate. I wanted to be curt with him. I was still mad. But I love him… I just couldn’t be mean to him. Even though he embarrassed the shit out of me… Maybe I overreacted… Maybe he was just going to joke around? I guess now I’ll never know. He and I sat next to each other and my parents sat across from us. “So Oliver, I hear you’re a chess master… How long’ve you been playing, young man?” My dad said. “I’ve been playing since I was five, sir. My grandpa taught me the game… And I guess I just took a liking to it.” “He was one of the best players at the tournament… He’s ranked in the top 10 in the state.” I said, unable to keep from singing his praises. “That’s impressive!” Mom said, “And thank you for teaching our son so much about the game. I’ve noticed a difference in him since he met you. He’s much more… Up beat.” “He’s a great friend.” I said, taking a giant bite of Lasagna. Ollie looked startled by what I said… I guess he thought that I was going to be cold during dinner. I wasn’t sure what it was. But he seemed to relax noticeably after that. “Thanks… And this is the best lasagna I’ve ever tasted, Mrs. Ferri. It’s really amazing.” He said, with a smile. “Thank you, dear. And drop this Mrs. stuff… Makes me feel old!” Mom said, and laughed. Ollie smiled. Dinner proceeded normally. It felt good having him with my family. During dinner I was playing out fantasies in my head… Not THOSE kind of fantasies. Like… Fantasies that he and I were married… That we did this all the time. I imagined that this was our normal Thursday ritual. We would come over and eat with my parents and then go back to our apartment and you know… Make passionate love all night. At a certain point I was listening to my dad tell Ollie one those stories he’s told a thousand times, when I felt Ollie’s foot come to rest on mine, using his toes to rub against mine. He was taking subtle glances at me while he did it… Still pretending to listen to my dad’s never ending story. For once it seemed like he cared about my reaction to something. I couldn’t help but smile. He left his foot on mine the entire rest of the dinner. That little gesture took me from pretending that everything was ok, to actually feeling like it would be. After dinner we both went upstairs and sat on the couch. “I’m sorry for snapping.” I said, looking at the carpet. Ollie stood up, and walked in front of the coffee table, pulling it back, making space in front of me. I just watched him. He came and sat down Indian-style at my feet, and gently gripped my ankles, trying to pull them onto his lap. My jaw was on the floor. “Ollie… Stop.” I said, pulling my feet closer to the couch. I was insanely self-conscious at this point. My feet had been in shoes all day too! He gripped my ankles harder. Not letting me pull away, using his strength to pull them back onto his lap. I giggled, “Dude, what’re you doing?” He tried to pull my sock off! I was NOT having that. I didn’t want him getting grossed out trying to prove a point. I yanked my feet away from him. Again, he grabbed my ankles and pulled my feet back onto his lap. He gripped my foot so hard it almost hurt! He then used one hand to pull off my sock, while the other held onto my ankle like a vice. The determination on his face made my chest feel like it was going to explode. He was looking at me with such authority that I stopped resisting altogether. I couldn’t even process what was going on. There aren’t words in the English language to describe how charged I was. He started gently massaging my foot. Looking at my face. His facial expression screamed ‘I’m sorry’. I was seeing stars. “Ollie… Oh my God…” He was alternating between the ball of my foot and the arch. Using his thumbs to send shockwaves through my entire body. I’ll admit it, I had to keep myself from tearing up. I want to say it was passion I saw in his eyes. I want to say that. But I was afraid to think it. I was afraid to be wrong. But I saw some sort of fire in his eyes. Something visceral. He started on my other foot. Carefully working out all the tension that had built up from our previous altercation. All I could think about was how much I loved him. He wasn’t perfect. He was bad at communicating his feelings. He had control issues. He was inexplicably uncomfortable with me initiating physical contact. But I loved him. Nonetheless. After a few minutes I heard him say, “I’m sorry about earlier. I didn’t know you were… you know, sensitive about that.” His voice was soft. “I’m sorry too.” I said, “I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions.” “It’s cool. You wanna do mine now? Please?” He asked. Had he only apologized and then asked me to rub his feet it would have been way too weird. I’d have felt like he was judging me or analyzing me while I did it. But that was before he gave ME a foot rub. He like… erased the awkwardness. He’s so fucking smart; it scares me. It’s like he knows me better than I know myself. Always several moves ahead of me. “Sure.” I said, smiling. He stood up and sat on the couch sideways, dropping his socked feet on my lap. I was hard as a rock. He noticed. I heard him giggle as he rubbed his toes against my boner. I looked over at him. He was was making the most mischievous face ever. Wriggling his eyebrows in an exaggerated way. It was so over the top that I couldn’t help but crack up. Stop being so adorable!!! “Don’t start something you can’t finish, big boy.” I said with a giggle, as I picked up his left foot and pulled off his sock. He smirked, “In my experience you finish pretttttttty quickly.” I gave him a mock offended look, “That was an extenuating circumstance!” We both laughed. I tried my best not to stare at his foot. I knew he was watching me. I kept my face controlled. I didn’t want to show how excited I was. His toes were perfect. Just perfect. I wanted to do other things. Other things with his feet. I… Kinda… Wanted to sm… Never mind. I had too much pride. Or shame… I wasn’t sure which. I started using my thumbs, working deep into the ball of his foot. “Whoa… That feels so good…” He said, as if surprised. He put his arms behind his head and laid back, looking at the ceiling. “This is awesome…” He said, in a quiet voice. I was relieved he wasn’t looking at me anymore. It meant I could just enjoy what I was doing without feeling like I was being analyzed. I couldn’t help but wonder if he sensed that it was best he not stare me down while I did this. His perceptiveness is just… unsettling, in a way. For fifteen minutes I massaged his feet. From his toes to his heel. I left nothing untouched. He had even started moaning a little! It wasn’t like a sexual moan… More like a relief moan. But still! It was awesome! After I’d finished, he lifted up his head, his eyes halfway closed, “Dude… You can do that anytime you want…” I’d almost put him to sleep! This was the first time he’d ever let me do ANYTHING physical to him. Like, sure… I’d hugged him, and we snuggled in the bed in Dallas. I’d kissed his neck a couple times… But he’d never let me actually, like… Make him feel good. Every time I tried he’d always freeze up. I decided to go for broke. “Take off your shirt and let me do your back.” His eyes opened, “Seriously?” “Yeah… It’ll keep you from getting as sore tomorrow. They do it in football. They massage their muscles to get out some chemical that makes you sore.” He sat up and pulled off his shirt. His stomach muscles tense from holding up his upper body. I got up as he turned on his stomach, laying length-wise on the couch. This had been the trick the whole time! I just need to massage my way to his cock! It’s brilliant! I went and got some lotion out of my drawer. And no, it’s not my jerk-off lotion. It’s eucalyptus lotion, ok? My hands get dry in the winter. And I fucking love eucalyptus. Best smell on earth. I squeezed some out and spread it around on my hands, trying to warm it up before touching his back. I straddled his butt. God, this was the best idea ever! I wondered if he’d let me get away with a little dry humping… Fuck, He might just let me do it… I reached down and spread the lotion around his shoulders. Working my thumbs deep into his traps. “Whoooaa… That’s……. Awesome…..” He whispered. My dick was in physical pain. That’s how hard I was. I worked his back for twenty minutes… From his traps to his lats and back again. I worked his shoulders and upper arms. I was entranced by his soft skin. How he glistened with the oils from the lotion. Feeling his muscles relax under my touch. Feeling him squirm when I’d hit a sensitive spot. Hearing his reactions to what I was doing. A few times I kinda did push my dick into his butt… Like when I was doing his shoulders. I couldn’t resist, ok? His ass was a lighthouse in a pitch black night. And I was a fly. I was getting more and more fixated on his ass. I wanted to touch it. I needed to. On a whim I decided to do the lowest part of his back, right above his ass. I used my thumbs to slip under his boxer-briefs, pressing hard on the top muscles of his butt. Doing that slightly pulled his underwear down, revealing the top of his ass… “Whoa…. Wait a sec.” Ollie said. He pushed is ass into the air and reached his hands towards the button of his pants. This can’t be happening… Oh god please let this be what’s happening. I heard the button pop and his zipper go down. He then pushed his underwear and pants down to his upper thighs. Revealing his ass in all its glory. And rested his body back on the couch. I was speechless. He was going to let me massage his ass? Are you fucking kidding me!? I squeezed more lotion into my hands. I gripped both his ass cheeks as he flexed them, revealing the dips in the sides of his butt cheeks. What a fucking marvelous sight. He turned his face sideways, giving me a huge smirk. He knew the power he had over me. Little bastard! I started massaging his right cheek. “Ah…. That’s…. Nice…” He whispered. I could feel his butt muscles tense and relax under my fingers. His ass was as smooth as velvet… Perfectly smooth, apart from that beautiful hairy butt crack… I wanted to spread his ass cheeks so bad… Just to take a peek… But I knew I’d never live it down. He would have a field day if I did that… My hands were aching. My forearms burning. But I wasn’t stopping. Not for anything. If he’d taken a shower recently I’d have massaged his asshole with my tongue. Fuck… Next time. I can’t wait for next time. After another 10 minutes I’d worked both cheeks thoroughly. My hands and arms were gonna be sore as fuck tomorrow. But it’d been worth it. I’d do it a thousand times again. I gave his ass a little slap and then stood up. “Dude, thanks… Damn… I’m so relaxed right now.” He said. I was watching him as he lifted his head off the couch. Expecting to see him pull his pants up. He didn’t. He turned his body sideways and then laid on his back. His hard dick flopping against his stomach. He was looking at me with those eyes. This was the first time I’d seen his boner. It was PERFECT. It laid flat against his pubes. I was barely able to contain myself. My heart rate was something around 560. He started flexing his dick, a mischievous smile on his face. I watched as it bounced up and down. I could see the head expand a little each time he flexed it. There wasn’t a more beautiful sight on this earth. His cock was literally hypnotizing me! I dropped to my knees. This was it. If that wasn’t an invitation I don’t know what was. My arms weren’t sore anymore. My hands felt great. Adrenalin was shooting through my veins. FINALLY. I shoved the coffee table away from the couch - violently. That fucking thing was in the way. He was smiling like crazy. Aware of what his actions were doing to me. It looked as though he was amused as fuck by it. I started hobbling towards him, still on my knees. Fuck it. I’m gonna suck him. And I won’t stop until he blasts off in my mouth. I needed to taste his saltiness. And smell him. Fuck… I’d wanted to smell him there for weeks now. I didn’t know when I’d get this chance again… And I sure as fuck wasn’t going to let this opportunity go to waste. Just as I reached the couch his phone started rattling. I ignored it. “Can you tell me who’s calling?” Ollie asked. “It’s your brother.” I responded, getting annoyed at the distraction. He jumped off the couch, pulling his pants up. And darted to the phone. I stayed where I was. In shock. Fucking… Oscar… Let me take a few minutes to tell you about how much I hated Oscar. Get comfortable. We’re gonna be here a while. I wanted him to die a thousand deaths and then die a few million more times after that. I was fucking furious with him. That fucking whore-mongering ass-sucking slutbag needs to learn how to leave people the fuck alone! GODDAMNIT! What kind of terrible person must he be that Ollie has to jump at his every beck and call? FUCK HIM. I’ll tell him that to his face one day. I swear to God. I can’t wait for that day. He screwed up the most important moment of my life. I couldn’t help but think he was psychic or some shit. Like he was having a giant laugh at my expense. Like he knew I was about to get what I wanted and waited just long enough for me to convince myself I might get it. FUCK THAT MOTHERFUCKER. I kept brooding, but my curiosity brought me back into present moment. I started listening in on Ollie’s side of the conversation. “I’m at a friend’s…” Ollie said. “What? Why’d you do that?” Ollie asked, his face incredulous. Put it on speaker, Goddamnit! “I barely even know her.” He said. Her? Herrrrrrrrrr?
 HER???????????????????????????????????????????? “Ok, I’ll do it. Cool it… I’ll do it.” I knew I shouldn’t be listening in… But I mean, come on… This was weird as fuck. He hung up the phone ten seconds or so later. His face bore the remnants of their conversation. I knew that whatever they talked about was not good. Not good at all. “What’s going on? What’d he say?” I asked, not thinking about how nosey I was being. “I um… My brother wants me to go on a date Friday night.” “The fuck does that mean!?” I asked, even more angry than before. “I have to do it, Ian… You don’t understand.” He said, looking down, “I don’t wanna do it, but…” “Then DON’T. Who is she? Do I know her?” “It’s Chad’s cousin, Gabrielle.” FUCK. “How’d this happen? And why the fuck does he get to tell you who to go on dates with!?” “He’s been like this since the… you know… The incident. He… He wants to make sure I don’t make the same ‘mistake’ again.” “Is that what I am? Another ‘mistake’?” I asked. “Dude, of course not. It’s not like I have a choice! I just have to go through the motions on Friday.” “How did this fucking thing get setup in the first place!?” “Oscar is best friends with Gabrielle’s older brother… They’ve been joking about us going out for a while now. And uh, I guess she told her brother I was cute or whatever… So, uh… yeah… I’m supposed to call her and ask her out tonight.” How did this beautiful day turn into my worst nightmare? I was fucking traumatized. He’s not gay. He’s said it a thousand times. It’ll be so much easier for him to be with her. He’ll choose her. What bi guy wouldn’t choose to be with a girl? Why go through all this shit? And for what? Me? Yeah, right. My thoughts were spinning out of control. I was just an observer as they flew at light-speed through my brain. I played out every scenario. In the span of thirty seconds I had come up with thirty scenarios that all included Ollie falling for her and leaving me in the dust. “But… She’s really pretty. What if…” “That’s not going to happen.” He said, firmly. “But she’ll want to kiss you! At the end of a date you do the whole kissing thing!” My eyes were watering. I couldn’t imagine him kissing someone else. “You don’t know that…” He said, looking down, “She might not want to.” “Have you looked in the mirror like… EVER? Of course she’ll want to! Are you gonna do it?” I asked. “I can’t be a dick to her… They’ll both kill me if I do anything wrong…” He said, staring at the floor. My heart was about to explode. I was dizzy. I plopped down from my knees onto my ass with a loud thud. This was the worst day of my fucking life. He’s going to kiss her. He’ll kiss her and then where will it stop? She’ll be texting him and… TOUCHING him. I was about to have a nervous breakdown. “But why can’t you just say no??” I pleaded. A tear fell out of my eye. I couldn’t hold it together anymore. Ollie stood up and came to sit next to me, putting his arms around me and pulling me towards his chest. I was outside my body. Was everything I’d been telling myself just a lie? Is this how it ends? “Ian, listen to me. If I tell him no, then he’ll tell my dad everything. And if you think it’s bad now, you have no idea how bad it’ll be then. I know what my dad’s capable of… I’ve learned over the years not to underestimate him.” I was barely paying attention. Staring off into space. I couldn’t feel anything anymore. I just listened to his heartbeat as I rested my head against his chest. It’s the only thing I could rely on… The only thing I could predict. I sat up, and looked into his eyes. “You’re going to kiss her. You’re going to kiss her and you won’t even kiss m-“ His lips slammed into mine. A lightning bolt shot through me. Tears were flowing down my face. Something triggered when our lips connected… Something primal. Something animal. I pushed him - hard - forcing him on his back. Our lips never parting. Our tongues finding each other. His hands, running through my hair. My body, boiling. My soul, on fire. Me, whimpering against his lips. Our tongues, gladiators at battle. I was lost in him. All the anger I felt was being expressed as passion. A primal rage channeled through desire, lust. Our tongues were at war… For once, I was in control. I grabbed his hands, forcing them over his head, pinning them down. I needed to show him how much I felt. As we kissed the world around me was spinning like a disco ball. My whole body felt like it was being electrocuted. The taste of his mouth. Feeling the smoothness of his tongue against mine. Feeling his breath on my face. The sound of our lips connecting in my ears. All I could think about was that moment. Nothing before or after existed. We were in the now. I finally knew what that meant. I thought of nothing but his lips. His taste. I started kissing his neck. “Ian… Baby…” I could barely hear him. All of the sudden I was on my back. I had no idea how I’d gotten there. Our lips were still a battle. I felt his hardness grinding against mine like a steel pipe. I was holding him so tight against me I could barely breathe. Ecstasy. Now I know what that word means. I knew the definition before now. But never the meaning. Feeling him on top of me, his tongue in my mouth, his manhood grinding against mine, that… That was Ecstasy. For twenty minutes our lips fought. Our tongues dueling. Our bodies one. My lips were sore. My tongue fatigued. I had somehow ended up on top of him again. I lifted my head and looked into his eyes. His mouth was open. His face red. His eyes black with desire. “Wow….” He whispered, running his hands through my hair. “No girl will ever do for you what I will. She’ll never appreciate you like I will. She’ll never yearn for you like I do. Don’t forget that, Ollie.” “It’ll be ok, baby. Don’t worry… Promise me you won’t worry.” He asked, rubbing my face with his hand. “I’ll stop worrying about you when I’m dead… But until then I’ll do my best.” He chuckled. We looked into each others eyes for minutes… Hours… I don’t know. “You have the most beautiful eyes… Like emeralds… MY emeralds…” Ollie said, smiling. His eyes red, watery. I chuckled, as another tear fell. My desire for him could no longer be put into words. Not after tonight. It was other-worldly. Outside of language. Some feelings cannot be described. Those were the feelings I had in that moment. Those were the things I felt when I looked into his eyes. When I heard him say those words. My angel. “Babe, I was supposed to be home twenty minutes ago…” Ollie said, in a soft voice, still playing with my hair. “Shit. Come on…” I said, jumping up and handing him his shirt. I was terrified of what would happen once I was alone. Once he was gone… My mind was going to have a field day, I knew it. But he couldn’t stay here forever. As much as I wished he could. *** As I drove Ollie home he paired his phone with the bluetooth system. And, without saying anything, put on a song… You and me together Through the days and nights I don't worry 'cause Everything's gonna be alright People keep talking they can say what they like But all I know is everything's gonna be alright No one, no one, no one Can get in the way of what I'm feeling No one, no one, no one Can get in the way of what I feel for you, you, you Can get in the way of what I feel for you I almost veered off the road. Ollie? Being romantic? Have I died? Am I awake? I started singing along. Ollie followed suit. It was beautiful. His voice was beautiful. He sounded like an angel. The angel I knew he was… I had never felt more feelings in a single day. I had experienced what felt like a lifetime’s worth of emotions in the last couple of hours. I was exhausted. But I sang my lungs out. Full voice. I needed to internalize what I was hearing. I needed to hear myself say the words from that song. I needed to believe them. I was still depressed beyond words. But goddamnit was he trying. I laid my hand on the center console palm-side up, and he intertwined his fingers in mine. We held hands the whole trip to his house. I didn’t know what the future held. The road ahead was perilous. Narrow. But we were going to go down it together… I hoped. I could see no light at the end of the tunnel. I’ll be honest. But he was my light. He would shine bright… Somehow, we’d get through the darkness. Together. *** That night I lay wide awake staring at the ceiling. I trusted him. I did. But I couldn’t help but be worried. If he were gay this would have been a mere inconvenience. It wouldn’t have affected me much at all. But he’s not. And Gabrielle’s gorgeous. There would be a line of guys waiting to date her if she wanted. I was worried that she saw him as some sort of challenge. A game she’d try to win. A game I didn’t want to have to play. He says nothing will happen. He says not to worry. But he’s naive. Especially about stuff like this. I knew I was jumping to conclusions. Make no mistake. From what I knew Gabrielle was a nice girl. She wasn’t some cutthroat psychopath… But things get hairy when you have feelings for someone. They get messy. I’ve learned that first-hand. Did Ollie love me like I loved him? I didn’t know the answer to that. I just hope he cares about ME as much as I care about him. Love without trust isn’t love at all. My mother said that to me once. God, I hope she was right.
  9. chessdude


    Thanks man! I wonder how Ollie will react when he finds out about Ian’s foot thing? I guess we’ll have to find out lol. Thanks again buddy and I’m glad you are enjoying the story.
  10. chessdude


    Thanks so much man! I appreciate the encouragement! I happen to love this chapter also for the same reasons as you. I hope you continue enjoying the story!
  11. chessdude

    Bad Bishop Part 2

    Thanks man! Teenagers aren't the most predictable individuals! We'll see how this change in their relationship develops over time...
  12. chessdude

    Bad Bishop Part 2

    Thanks Bryan! I agree completely... Teenage love impacts a person more than almost anything they'll ever experience again. I'm so glad that I'm capturing that. Writing this story has been such a fulfilling experience... Much more so than I would have thought. I'm as attached to these characters as anyone lol! Thanks again, dude. People like you are my rock. Whenever I get down I come back to the comments here and the many emails I've received from people reading it on other sites, and it just means so much to me. Can't wait to write the next one!
  13. chessdude

    Bad Bishop Part 2

    Thanks so much Chris! I really appreciate it!
  14. “Ian… It’s time to get up.” I heard in my ear. “Just… five more minutes.” I said, still in a blur. “You said that five minutes ago! Now get up!” I heard Ollie say, in a loud whisper. I opened my eyes, adjusting to the morning sun, which was piercing through the closed blinds. “I made you this.” Ollie said, as he pushed a steaming mug towards me. Coffee? My man made me coffee! “Dude… I love you.” I said, and then my brain activated, “I mean, thanks.” After a few huge gulps of the piping hot liquid, I finally felt like a human being. Ollie was already dressed and sitting on the bed. Fiddling with his phone as he waited for me to get ready. I threw on my clothes and ran to the bathroom to brush my teeth. We grabbed a couple of pop-tarts and said a few goodbyes to Ollie’s fam, then headed out to the car. Let the games begin! *** “Ok, Ian. Remember to use all your time. You have 120 minutes for the first 40 moves and another hour after that. So don’t rush, ok?” I nodded, and then asked “Wait, how will the clock keep track of that?” “I’ve already programmed the Chronos with the game parameters. It will track the move count and adjust the time when you reach that point.” Chronos was the fancy digital game clock we were using. I knew that much, at least. Let me explain to you how chess game clocks work. This is important, so pay attention. They have a variety of standard game times already configured, say 30 minutes for each player or 15 minutes for each player as ‘default times’ you can choose. But a Chronos clock can be programmed for any time period. You could give each player 113.5 minutes each if you wanted. The clock is placed on the side of the board facing the players. It has two screens, one for the person playing white and one for the person playing black. So both players can see how much time they have left to use. ALSO, both players can see how much time the OTHER player has left. Now, after either player makes a move, they reach over and push a button located on their side of the rectangular shaped clock. Pushing that button stops their own timer, and starts their opponents timer. Each player does this after each move. So each player’s clock is either ticking or paused, depending on whether it’s their move or not. Capisce? Excellent! Google a picture of ‘Chronos Chess Clock’ if you still don’t get it. Onward! We were sitting in Dallas traffic, a few miles away from the venue. “And don’t touch a piece unless you’re sure you’re going to move it! Touch-move rules apply here. If you touch the piece, then you HAVE to move it… If you’re adjusting a piece that’s crooked, you can do so as long as you say ‘Adjust’ while you’re doing it.” I nodded again. This was too much information. I reached into the spare chess bag that Ollie had brought me and pulled out the notebook that came with it, and started taking notes. “Only offer a draw if it’s your turn. Do NOT offer it on their time. Also, don’t offer a draw if you’re losing. That’s super rude, and is insulting to the other player. Don’t offer a draw after every move. That’s also considered rude and could get you in trouble. Oh and…” Ollie briefly glanced over at me. “What are you doing?” He asked, sternly. “Uh… I mean, this is a lot to remember… I was taking notes.” Oh boy… Did he look mad. “Rip those pages out of the book. Now.” Ollie commanded. “What? Why?” I asked. “Because if an arbiter saw your notes during the tournament you’d be ejected from the entire event for cheating. You can’t have any notes or guides, Ian! That could’ve been really bad…” Jesus… I felt like a child being scolded in the Wal-Mart checkout line. “Geez, Sorry.” I said, dejected. “Put your phone on silent and don’t take it out during the game for any reason. If you need to use the restroom or take a walk during the game then wait till you’ve made your move and then go. Don’t leave the board while it’s your move. It could raise suspicion.” “Suspicion of what?” I asked. “That you’re going to get help from someone or checking your next move with a chess engine. Arbiters are constantly watching everyone. Their job is to make sure no one is up to any funny business.” “Ok, got it.” “Also, be sure and remember to notate every move of the game in that notebook. Ok?” “Uh, yeah.. Sure.” “Do you remember the notation or do we need to go over it again?” “I think I remember it.” I said. “Ok, well… just know that if you stop notating the opponent can pause the game and call the arbiter over and have 10 minutes deducted from your time. So don’t forget to do it.” FOR GOD’S SAKE!!! HOW MANY RULES ARE THERE? My anxiety was at a 10 when I woke up this morning. At this point it was over 9000!!! Ollie let out a breath and nudged me. “Don’t worry, ok? I know I’m hitting you with a ton of info, but I just want everything to go smoothly… I’ll be looking out for you during the tournament, ok?” “Well, you’ve scared the shit out of me… So there’s that.” I said. “I just want you to do well, Ian. I… If… You matter to me, ok? I just don’t want anything to go wrong. I woke up this morning and like… I just… I care about you. I want you to succeed.” My smile could’ve connected the seven seas. “I care about you too.” I said, looking forward, smiling like a hyena. Shit. No wonder he’s so good at this game. He takes this shit seriously. I felt like a kid being lectured on the way to his first day at kindergarten. This was going to be a loooooooooooooooong day. *** We arrived at the Kay Bailey Hutchinson Convention Center in Downtown Dallas. It was fucking gorgeous. A study in glass walls and marble floors. It oozed class and sophistication. High ceilings. Natural light shining through the lobby. I was stunned that they could afford this venue. It was bustling. People of all ages and ethnicities were moving from one direction to another. Kids were holding their chess gear in special elongated carrying bags followed by their parents. Several groups had set up boards in the lobby area and were going over games, some playing blitz. The energy was intoxicating. I was in love and terrified all at the same time. I followed Ollie through the maze of people up to the registration desk. “Well, I’ll be damned! If it isn’t Oliver West!” Said a grey-haired, bearded man sitting behind the desk. He was one of those guys you knew instantly was a real character. He had a beige skimmer hat on, with a tie-dye shirt. “Hey Johny! Good to see you.” Ollie said, smiling. “Gregson!!! Get over here! West is in the house!” Johny shouted into a room located behind the desk. A red-haired man in his forties poked his head through the doorway. “I’ll be damned.” He said, looking back at Johny. “That’s what I said!” Johny shouted. “I know it’s been a while guys… You know, life and all.” Ollie said, with a smile. “Well, we’re just glad to have you back. We need all the heavyweights we can get.” The red-haired man spoke up, “So let me get this straight… You Austin boys come to Dallas to take all our hard-earned money, is that how this works?” “A man’s gotta put food on the table.” Ollie said, with a sarcastic grin. They all laughed. Ollie reached in his pocket and pulled out his wallet, but Johny motioned it away. “Titled players play for free. You know that, boy.” Titled players? Ollie is titled? What does that mean? That sounds… important. “I’m paying for my friend… Ian Ferri. He’ll be playing in the under-1000 section.” Ollie said. My mouth dropped open. Since when was he paying for me? I leaned into his ear, “Dude, I can pay.” He shook his head and gave me a look that said ‘absolutely not’. So, I relented. Have I mentioned how sexy he is when he takes charge? It makes me fucking nuts. I want him to fucking ravage me when he’s like this. Nothing. Sexier. I saw the prize fund chart taped to the wall… $3600 for first place! And that’s for each section! Anyone finishing in the top three gets $1,000+ payout. I was starting to get excited. I could get a new graphics card! Maybe even two! After a few minutes we were both registered. I was playing in the under-1000 section. All players rated below 1000 played in that section. Ollie was playing in the ‘championship’ or ‘open’ section. That’s where the best of the best played. I felt so much pride being with him. He was like a celebrity at this place. *** Everyone was waiting for their board assignments. Some computer program was going to build the matchups after all the competitors had registered. So we had 30 minutes to get familiar with the building. Ollie walked us into the playing hall. It was HUGE. With tables in long lines from one end to the other. There was room for approximately 300-400 players. While we waited for the matchups Ollie continued giving me tips… Like black gets to choose whose board is used to play that round… And not to say the words ‘check’ or ‘checkmate’ during the game, that the other player will know when they are being ‘checked’, that if I fail to notice that I’m ‘in check’ and try to move another piece that 10 minutes will be deducted from my time. This is next-level shit… I had no idea there would be this many things to keep track of. *** Finally, the board matchups were posted. I was playing white against some dude named Jack Benson, rated 997. Fuck, he had to be the highest rated player in the under-1000 section! Some luck I’ve got. Our game was located at board 227. Ollie was playing on board 2 against Vladim Mizinscy, rated 2397. It became clear that your rank in the tournament could easily be determined based on the board number your game was on. So, for instance, the last board was number 279, at the very back of the room. The lowest rated players (or players with the worst results in the tournament) would play there. In contrast, the highest rated and most esteemed players were playing boards 1-30, at the very front of the room. The fact that Ollie was playing his first round game on board 2 gave me quite a bit of pause. He’s the real fucking deal! I just hoped that I wasn’t hurting his reputation by associating with him. But like, he didn’t even seem to care about any of that. He wasn’t trying to be cool or hob-nob with only the best players (all of which he knew), he was focused on me. Making sure that I was prepared and wouldn’t be confused or embarrass myself. How can someone so smart be so humble and kind? After checking the matchups, Ollie and I parted ways and went to our boards. When I reached board 227 I saw a 14ish year old boy calmly seated opposite me. He was thin, but didn’t look overly nerdy. He had short brown hair and freckles across his nose. He was cute, in a boyish kind of way. “Are you Jack?” I asked. “Yep. Ian?” “Uh, yeah… I guess we’re playing first round. Sorry, this is my first tournament, so I’m not used to the protocols and everything. I’ll try not to do anything too stupid.” I said, as I sat down. He chuckled and gave me a sort of pitying look, “You chose the Dallas Open to be your first tournament? This is the most competitive tournament of the year other than the state championship!” I didn’t like that look. Not one bit. “Well my friend has played here before and thought it would be fine. I’m not expecting much. Just want to get some experience.” I said. “Huh… Well I’m here to win.” He said, as he looked around. I wasn’t feeling his ‘aura’. He seemed a little haughty to me. It wasn’t like I was here to lose! What the fuck does he think I’m planning on doing? Scratching my ass the whole time? I got my notebook out and put down our names. And used the few minutes that remained to prepare my notation booklet. My palms were sweating. I would NEVER have had the courage to do this if Ollie wasn’t in the picture. I couldn’t imagine walking into this environment all alone, with no one there to guide me through it. And that thought bothered me. I needed to start being more proactive. More confident. All these people were here and it didn’t take falling in love with someone to get them to show up. But still, I was here. That had to count for something, right? I had taken SOME initiative. “You see him?” Jack said, pointing to a boy my age standing many boards towards the front. “Uh, yeah. I do.” “He’s my brother, Joel. He’s rated 1854… He’s basically my coach, just so you know.” “Ok.” I said, in a flat tone. He’s ALREADY bragging. Christ sake. No telling what he’s going to be like after he inevitably destroys me. A few minutes later I heard some increased rumbling among the players and looked to see Johny walking towards the center of the room. “Well, ladies… Welcome… to the 26th Annual Dallas Open!!” Cheers and hooting followed. “As y’all can see I’m pretty as ever.” Johny said, followed by a sea of chuckles. “Pretty as a pig’s ass!” One of the players yelled, followed by even more laughter. “Stop insulting my wife!” Johny yelled back. The room roared. Even I was laughing at this point. I loved how tight-knit the group was, especially considering how many people were there. “Anyways, Ladies and Gents… We’re already 13 minutes behind schedule, and Gregson’s about to have a hernia. So let’s get this show started… Players, start your clocks! And best of luck… You ugly birds are gonna need it.” Johny said, followed by clapping. I felt a stab in my chest as Jack reached over and started the clock… When I returned to consciousness I noticed his hand was stretched out above the board. I had no idea what he was doing. “You’re supposed to shake hands before the game.” He said, in a commanding whisper. “Oh.” I quickly reached across the table, shook his hand, and moved the king’s pawn two spaces, waiting for his response… He just sat there. I had played my move, but he wasn’t doing anything! 5 minutes passed. Nothing. 10 minutes passed. He still hadn’t made his first move yet! He was just looking intently at the board. The fuck is going on? I thought he was ‘here to win’!? After about 25 minutes of watching him do nothing I casually glanced at the clock… My heart stopped. I HADN’T PUSHED THE BUTTON! We were still using my time! I quickly reached over and pushed the button on the clock, which started his timer. And as soon as I pushed the clock he IMMEDIATELY made his move, and pushed his button. What a cheeky little bastard! He would’ve sat there the whole two hours pretending to think until my time ran out! Losing on time means losing the game. End of discussion. Now I had used up 25 minutes on the clock… for NOTHING! 
 GODDAMNIT! He’d really pissed me off. He knew good and goddamn well I was new to the game. He could have at least been a good sport and let me know that my time was dwindling down to nothing. What did he do instead? Jack shit is what he did! IT’S WAR, BITCH. The next ten moves happened quickly. I had seen positions similar to this before, but wasn’t sure what it was technically called. I felt like the game was somewhat even… That is, until I made a hasty move and lost one of my pawns. As soon as Jack Shit captured the pawn he let out a breath of what sounded like relief. His whole body posture relaxed, and he slumped down in the chair with a kind of satisfied look on his face. Basically telling me that the game was over. I didn’t want to lose to him! I sat there for 20 minutes trying to decide what to do next. I was weighing the pro’s and con’s of my position. There were some options for me to attack, but I was down a pawn! And to top it off Jack Shit was a stronger player than me… Playing aggressively would only make things worse. I just kept thinking. At this point he was doing those annoying fake yawns people do, giving the impression that he was totally relaxed. I went back to the drawing board. Thinking and thinking. A minute or two later I glanced at him, and I almost didn’t recognize what I saw. The color from his face had drained. His eyes were wide. He was looking at something behind me. His jaw hanging open. Before I could turn around to see what was happening, I felt two hands come to rest on my shoulders. Ollie! He had come to check on me! When I looked up at him he was staring straight at Jack Shit, giving him an intimidating glare. Jack Shit was biting his nails and staring at the board. His confidence was gone! He was searching the board again, like he wasn’t sure if things were going as well as he’d thought. I couldn’t understand it. What had changed? I hadn’t made a move! Just a minute earlier he looked like he’d already won the game! Was he scared of Ollie for some reason? What the hell was that about? I felt Ollie squeeze my shoulders, causing me to look up at him. He gave me the warmest, most beautiful smile I’d ever seen. All my nervousness disappeared. Anxiety: gone… He was calming me. Reassuring me. And I loved him all the more for it. I smiled back as he gave me one last squeeze and headed off to his board. Everything would be alright. Ollie was on my side. He would be there for me after all this was over. That’s what mattered most. Not my pride. Not this pesky teenager. I settled in and focused back on the board. Jack Shit was sitting up straight. Eyes on the board. His eyes were darting from one end of the board to the other. After another minute or so I decided to develop my bishop, since the one benefit of losing a pawn was that my bishop now had space to move around. As soon as I made my move, he said, “I offer a draw.” The fuck? I’m down a pawn, dumbass! Without much thought I nodded, not sure what I was supposed to do to accept. He reached his hand out and we shook. I was in shock. Why did he offer a draw? I drew my first game against the highest rated player in my section! And I have no idea how I did it! “Why didn’t you tell me you had a National Master as your coach?” Jack asked, eyes accusing. National Master? Is that what Ollie is? That sounds… serious. “Oh… I didn’t think it mattered.” I responded, nonchalantly. I was enjoying this way too much already. “You prepared that pawn sacrifice didn’t you! It was a trap. I knew it when Master West came over here.” Uh… No, that ‘sacrifice’ was my own incompetence. “A magician never tells his tricks.” I said. “Is Master West still taking students?” Jack asked, his tone was so eager it startled me. Master West? What is this? Star Wars Return of the Pawns? “Um… I don’t think so. He’s actually one of my good friends, so… That’s why he coaches me. For free of course.” The look on this kids face. God I was loving this. “He coaches you f-f-for free?” He asked, eyes wider than ever. “Yep. I guess I’m just special.” I said. We packed up our things and I followed him to the results table, we had to declare a draw on our notation cards and then each of us signed the other’s booklet, and then recorded the result in the round 1 standings chart. *** It was one and a half hours into the first round, and most players were still playing their games. I needed to see how Ollie was doing. He was playing a guy rated 2397! That’s like… Grandmaster level! I walked to the front of the room, and saw him seated opposite a man in his early thirties. They had special white cards beside their board detailing their name and rating. Apparently only the best players got that perk. The card read: NM Oliver West 2265 Vs. IM Vladim Mizinscy 2397 ‘NM’… That must be the ‘National Master’ thing Jack was talking about… But what is the ‘IM’? International Master? Both of them had their hands extended over their foreheads, creating a visor over their eyes. I assumed to prevent the other from seeing what they were looking at. The energy was crazy intense. I kept my distance and tried to gauge what was happening on the board, but the position was way too complicated. I resorted to counting the pieces in order to get an idea of what was going on. But it was uneven. Vladim was up a Knight but Ollie had captured 3 of Vladim’s pawns. I had no idea what the balance was in that situation. It looked like Ollie was using his three extra pawns as a battering ram, charging them down the center of the board, cramping the other guys space. *** Another hour and fifty minutes had passed. I’d been to the bathroom multiple times and eaten two bags of chips. They were still locked in. Ollie had 4 minutes and 13 seconds on the clock, while Vladim had 3 minutes and 20 seconds left. A crowd had started to form around their game. Time was running out. I watched as Ollie and Vladim made eye-contact for what felt like the first time. It seemed like it was an acknowledgement that some serious shit was about to go down. Then, like a choreographed fight scene, they started moving faster and faster. Ollie was still up a couple pawns, and they were dangerously close to Vladim’s side of the board. Both of them were now standing up, hunched over the board. Their hands were moving at a dizzying speed. I could barely make out whose hand was whose! It was incredible! At a certain point there was less than a second between each of their moves. My heart was pounding. They were slapping the clock so loud I thought it might break! And then, after a blizzard of hands moving from the board to the clock and back again, Vladim calmly extended his hand, holding it above the board. Nothing was said. Ollie reached over and shook it. I had no idea what had happened! It was like they’d just communicated with their minds! Who won? Did they draw?! What the fuck! Nobody had said anything! I watched Ollie glance around the room. And as soon as he locked eyes with me… As soon as I saw that smile spread across his face, I knew… He’d won. HE’D WON!!! I darted to the table and pulled him into the tightest hug I could give. I was so fucking proud. He’d beaten one of the best players in the country! He’s a genius! I can’t describe how much respect I had for him. How much I not only adored him, but also admired him. Idolized him. “Ian, I can’t breathe!” I slowly released him from the hug, but refused to fully let go of him… I noticed a little water in his eyes. I could see how much that win meant to him, and I was there to share it. I could die happy! “I’m so proud of you! I’ve never been more proud of anyone or anything! Do you understand me!?” I said, shaking him with each syllable. He chuckled, while gazing into my eyes. I felt that spark ignite. That fire that was kindling in my belly was starting to blaze. All it took was that look to ignite the inferno inside me. It didn’t matter where we were. He was gasoline to my flame. God… When I get you home… Oh boy… When I get you in that damn bed… I swear… to… GOD… “How was your game?” Ollie asked. “It was a draw! And I have no idea how!” I said. Ollie burst out laughing… Like, uncontrollable laughter. It was fucking contagious, causing me to start laughing my ass off too. “You were totally losing!” Ollie said, between chuckles. “I know! I think you scared the shit out of the poor kid. He thought we’d planted a trap!” Ollie buried his face in my shoulder and cackled. It was just us in that room. No one else existed. After our fit of giggles subsided, reality struck. I think we realized simultaneously that we were still locked in an embrace. We quickly parted, and as I looked to the right I saw Johny seated at a table facing us. He had the faintest smile on his face. I knew enough to know that he was in ‘analysis mode’. He didn’t seem disgusted, more amused. Ollie cleared his throat, “Let’s get some food.” *** The next two rounds went pretty well for both of us. I lost my second game, but won the third! So I was feeling really good. I had won a game! It was against a guy rated 740, but still! Ollie had won his second round game and drew the third. He was tied for first place with GM Igor Morozevich! Tied with a Grandmaster! I couldn’t believe it. *** We arrived home at 12:35 am. His uncle Craig was seated in the living room, which was located at the entrance of the house. He had some dark liquor in a fancy cup beside him. “Well boys, how did you do?” “Ian did great! He finished 1.5 out of 3. That’s awesome for a first tournament.” Ollie said. “Well Oliver here is sitting at 2.5 out of 3! He beat an International Master today! It was nuts!” “Too smart for his own good that one.” Craig said, motioning to Oliver. “Well, I know you boys are tired. Go on now and get some rest. Long day tomorrow.” He said, as he took a swig of his drink. I went to Avery’s room and gathered some shower stuff, and walked over to the bathroom. The light was on but the door was cracked, so I walked in. As my eyes adjusted to the brightness I saw Ollie standing there in his ruby-red boxer-briefs, looking at me like I was holding him at gunpoint. “Oh! My bad… I didn’t know you were in here.” I said, flustered. I was staring straight at the bulge in his shorts. My eyes locked onto that beauty within the first 0.000000000000000000000000000978 seconds of entering the room. I knew (roughly) how big he was hard, but his bulge was surprisingly impressive soft. “Uh… You can go first if you want.” He said, covering his groin with his hands. I was feeling mischievous. And more than that, I was getting sick of the pretend formality between us. So, I walked right up to him while maintaining eye contact, and sat on the toilet seat. “I’ll just wait.” I said, unable to hide my smile. Ollie had a totally serious look on his face. He glanced at the door and then back at me, “What if someone notices?” Wait… Was he being serious? He thought I was being SERIOUS? Is he thinking about doing it!? You could see my heartbeat through my shirt. HE WAS CONSIDERING IT! “Who’s gonna notice? Everyone’s asleep… And your uncle is plastered in the living room watching Home Improvement reruns…” He was so clearly uncomfortable that I almost aborted the entire mission. But he hadn’t said no yet! How risky could this be? If someone asked we’d just say I was taking a shit while he showered. That’s KIND of believable… Like, maybe I’d held my poop all day and had to let it out right then… God, I just wanted to see him naked, ok? Consequences be damned… I thought about suggesting that we take a shower together, but that would have been REALLY pushing it. This was just ‘normal’ enough not to trigger his phobias… I hoped, anyway. Without saying another word he passed me and closed the door, turning the lock. Legs shaking. Palms sweating. Ears ringing. Cock straining. I was going to see my dream guy showering. I couldn’t even fathom it. He stood by the door, facing me. My eyes were glued to him. Taking in every ounce of his flawless pearly skin. “You ready?” He said, his face gravely serious. Why was there so much tension in the room? He looked like he was about board a one-way trip to Mars… I started feeling a little bad… Like, I didn’t want him to do it just because he felt pressured. My better half chimed in, “Look, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be pushing you like this. I… I’ll go and wait in the room.” I stood up and turned to face him and almost fell on my ass. Ollie’s boxers were on the floor. Hands by his side. Looking straight at me. He was letting me see him. I took in a sharp, audible breath. My eyes focused on the hottest brown curly pubes I’d ever seen. I had no idea pubes could be so beautiful. His penis was perfectly proportioned, laying on top of his pastel-pink balls. My heart was fluttering. He was more perfect than I could have ever imagined. I looked back into his eyes. I could see uncertainty. It had to be difficult to let someone see you totally naked, especially in harsh bathroom lighting… But he’d done it for me. I was so fucking hard. My dick would be a diamond until sometime tomorrow afternoon. I knew that for a fact. Fuck the Statue of David. THIS is art. THIS is as beautiful as the male form gets. Michelangelo can go fuck himself. He was a clueless fool as far as I was concerned. I wanted to drop to my knees. Fuck the shower. I didn’t give a fuck whether he smelled like soap or sweat. Come to think of it I wasn’t sure which smell I’d prefer… I was consumed. I couldn’t bring myself to speak. But I knew I had to say SOMETHING. “You’re…” I let out a breath and looked into his eyes, “You’re… The most beautiful guy I’ve ever seen.” He broke eye-contact and shook his head with a smile… Sort of implying that I was being ridiculous. “I’m not joking, Ollie. I’m serious. You’re… Perfect… Fuck, dude. I don’t know what to say.” “Can I get in the shower now?” He said, with wry smile. “Eh… I suppose… But walk slowly.” I said, followed by chuckle. “My best friend the pervert… Hmmm…. Sounds like something you’d see on TLC. It’s a role made for you.” Ollie said with a giggle, as he started his journey to the shower. I watched as his manhood bounced all around with each step he took. Fuck… I wished I had photographic memory. I wanted this sight burned into my brain forever. Then what he’d said clicked. He called me his ‘best friend’. Ollie is so smart but sometimes so naive. Like, how did he just conclude that we’re best friends? We’ve only known each other for maybe a month and a half! But the more that I thought about it the more it made sense. We’ve been spending every weekend together. I mean, sure Sara and Devan are also my ‘best friends’, but I wasn’t doing the things with them that I was doing with Ollie. In reality, Ollie and I were MORE than friends, at least in some way. But I could tell that he didn’t have a name for what we were, yet. Our relationship didn’t fit neatly into one of society’s boxes. We definitely weren’t ‘boyfriends’… Yet. So I guess it made sense why he categorized us as best friends… I mean, if this is what best friends do then I’m all for it! I don’t know what I’m trying to say, ok? I’m saying that hearing him call me his best friend made my whole world sparkle. That’s the TLDR version. Was being best friends with Ollie my ultimate goal? No. But it was PROGRESS. And progress I’ll take. Ollie made his way to the glass-door of the shower. I would be able to see right in there until the steam fogged it up. As he leaned in to test the water temperature I was eye-level with his milk-white ass. His butt was a little smaller than mine but just as round. Absolutely FLAWLESS. He had a tiny bit of hair in his crack. And that shit set me off more than anything else had so far. I mean even his hairy butt crack was driving me wild. THE FUCK! The thoughts I was having… Let me tell you. Bad thoughts… Very non-hetero thoughts. Let’s just put it that way. “Ahem…” Ollie said, exaggerating the sound. I quickly looked up from his ass to his eyes, “Uh, great ass?” He looked at me with a straight face, and then started cracking up. He got in the shower and started soaping up. At a certain point I couldn’t really make out his face or body. To break the tension I had started talking about his game and what had led to the big win. Staying quiet was just too awkward. “So did you have a good time on your first day?” I heard Ollie say through the mountain of steam. “It’s been so much fun, babe.” I said, cringing a little. He had said it the night before! It’s only fair that I can say it. It still felt a little awkward, if I’m honest. He didn’t respond. Instead I watched as his butt cheeks pressed against the glass… A couple seconds after that they started swaying from side to side, slowly gliding against the glass, clearing away the fog that had formed there. Without thinking I dropped from the toilet seat onto my knees. I was gone. He was teasing me! “Why so quiet?” I heard Ollie say, his voice filled with mischief. “Just… Uh, admiring the… Admiring the scenery.” “Perv.” “Tease!” We both laughed. After a few minutes and several near-jizzing-my-pants experiences later, he shut the water off. “Get me a towel, please.” I stood up and handed it to him, taking in every detail. The diamond-like water drops on his shoulders, his glistening hair, that little droplet at the end of his chin. I was mesmerized by all of it. He dried off his body and put on an electric-blue pair of boxer-briefs. I quickly stood and went towards the door, preparing to let him leave, while also attempting to hide the biggest boner of my life. “Where do you think you’re going?” He said. “Oh, I was just gonna let you out…” “The fuck you are… Your turn.” He said, as he sat on the toilet, drying his hair. Ohhhhhhhh fuck. Oh God oh fuck… Fuck. Oh shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. FUCK. You’ve really done it this time, Ian! He can’t see my BONER!! That’s like… EXTRA. My hands were covering my erection. I hadn’t even considered the possibility that he would hold me to my own standard. “But… I’m… Kinda in a situation here.” I said, looking down. “Look at me, Ian… You wanted to see me. Now I wanna see you.” I looked at him. His face was commanding, only making my erection worse. If he knew the power he had over me… Shit, maybe he knows already. There was no way I was saying no. My legs were shaking as I took off my shirt. He unabashedly looked over my chest. I reached for my belt buckle… It’s now or never. In one fell swoop, I pushed my underwear and pants to the ground, straightened my back, and looked straight ahead. I could see my dick bouncing in my peripheral vision. This was by far and away the hardest thing I’d ever done. Pun intended. My biggest concern was that my dick would weird him out. I’m not cut. And my foreskin - even when I’m hard - covers like half of the head of my dick, at least until it’s pulled back. “You’re not…” Ollie said, then paused. I forced myself to look at him. “No, I’m not.” I said. “Come closer.” He said, staring straight at my hard dick. His face had an air of curiosity to it. With the speed of a senior citizen, I approached the toilet, until I was maybe a foot away from him. I watched as he reached his hand towards my dick and then stopped, “You mind if I…” “No! I don’t mind at all…” I said, cutting him off. He used a couple of his fingers to pull back the foreskin, exposing the head of my dick. My eyes rolled to the back of my head. My knees buckled. I had to catch my balance on the countertop next to the toilet. He then gently pulled the skin forward until it covered the head completely. Watching him playing with my foreskin was the MOST arousing thing I’d ever experienced. I had full-body shakes from that shit. My whole body was vibrating. “Dude this is so cool!” Ollie said, bringing me back into reality. I looked at him and saw a wide smile on his face. “Uh… Th-th-thanks.” “You’re so messy… Leakin’ like crazy… What a perv.” He said, with a wry smile. “Dude, I can’t help it!” I said, defensive. “Yours is thicker than mine, I think.” He said. He firmly gripped the base of my dick, squeezing - hard. That was it. He should’ve known better. My vision narrowed. My body went rigid as stone. BOOM. I shot a rope of jizz just past his face making a splat on the wall. “Oh God.” I moaned. Ollie didn’t miss a beat. He aimed my dick towards his midsection to catch the cum and started jerking me. I was so overwhelmed that I had to hold onto his shoulders for balance. “I’m so sorry…” SPURT “Oh shit, dude” SPURT “Oh… fuck… keep going…” SPURT. OH FUCK. What a fucking champion. He didn’t miss a beat! He knew he’d started something and fucking finished it. My whole body was shaking. Like, noticeably. “Oh my god, Ollie… I swear I didn’t mean for that to happen.” I said, horrified, shivering. I opened my eyes and surveyed the damage. My cum was dripping from his chest to his belly. I’d NEVER come that much in my LIFE! It was so much. His chest looked like a freshly-glazed Krispy Kreme donut. “Fuck. I don’t usually make this much.” I was trying every possible out. Still trying to catch my breath… He still hadn’t spoken or reacted. Finally, he responded, “What. A. Perv.” A giant smile had spread across his face. God, the relief. He wasn’t mad at me. Fuck, that was the best orgasm of my life. It felt even better now knowing that he wasn’t being a baby about it. “Says the guy who couldn’t keep his hands off my schlong.” I said, with a goofy-ass smile. “Hey! That was in the interest of science! You’re the one that turned it into a 2-dollar porno!” He said, laughing. “Fuck off! People would pay a lot more than two bucks to see that money shot!” We both laughed. Finally he let go of my aching cock. I was still just as hard as I’d been before. Wasn’t it supposed to go down after you cum? The fuck!? “I guess you’re gonna need another shower.” I said. “Nah.” He stood up and got his dirty towel and dried his hand and chest with it, and threw it in the hamper. My mouth was hanging open. He’s gonna sleep with my jizz on his chest? “Are you sure?” I said, “I won’t try anything, I promise.” He didn’t respond. He just put his night shirt on and then took out his tooth brush and started brushing his teeth. He hadn’t even washed his hands! Who’s the REAL perv in this relationship??? How is it that everything he does drives me fucking crazy!? The thought of him being so comfortable with my jizz on him that he’d sleep with it was fucking dizzying. I quickly showered and dried off. Still hard of course. Put on my boxer-briefs and brushed my teeth. When I got to Avery’s room Ollie was already in the bed, arms behind his head. I felt so relaxed, and yet even more charged than before. I kept playing that entire scene over and over in my head. It all felt like it was meant to be. Like, I know some people obsess about their first experience being ‘perfect’, but to me that WAS perfect. There were no expectations or weird preparations. It just happened. I was just mad that I didn’t have the courage to push him as far as he’d pushed me. But I would. Not tonight. But today gave me some leverage against his prudishness. And I intended to use it. And soon. I slipped into the bed and got on my side facing him. Without hesitating he turned towards me, and snuggled right up to my chest. Burying his face against the center of my ribcage. “Does that thing ever go down?” Ollie said, nudging my boner with his leg. “Uh… Not when you’re around.” I said. I felt his breath on my chest as he let out a muffled chuckle. He left his leg pressing against my boner. Forcing me to resist the urge to hump him like a dog. It’s like he knows EXACTLY what to do to make me fucking delirious. He has a knack for that shit. But I’m NOT complaining. My dick likes touching him. I know that now. “I have a confession to make.” I heard him say, his words vibrating through my upper body. “I’m listening.” I said, gliding my fingers through his thick brown hair, trying not to flex my dick against his hairy leg - and failing. “Promise not to laugh.” I laughed. “Fine, I’m not telling.” He said, followed by a half-assed attempt to pull away from me. I locked my arms around him and pulled him even closer. He wasn’t getting away that easy. “I’m sorry… I couldn’t resist! I promise not to laugh. Come on babe. Tell me.” I said, talking into his hair. “The uh… pullout bed is super comfortable. Probably more comfortable than this bed. There, I said it.” For a second I wasn’t sure what he meant. Then it clicked. He’d been bullshitting me last night! “Ma Back! Oh ma poor back! I can feel the support bar! It’s killin’ ma back!” I said, and then erupted into laughter. I felt him giggling like crazy against my chest - against his will, I’m sure. That started a fit of hysterics between us. Full-on cackling. “Ohhh….” I paused to gain my composure, his face was still hidden against my chest, I continued, “Fuck, that sounds just like something I’d have done… Well, go on. Tell me why you lied to your best friend…” “You know why.” I heard, muffled. “Ollie, Please… I wanna hear it.” He laid there, perfectly still. I wasn’t sure if he was ignoring me or not. But I waited in the hopes that he was getting his thoughts together. “I kinda… Well… At first I thought it would be fine… You know, when Michelle told us we’d be sleeping separate. But, I dunno… I felt weird about it somehow. I didn’t like it and I wasn’t sure why.” I laid there quiet as a mouse, stroking his hair, letting my fingers brush against his back. “When I was on the pullout bed I just felt like I wasn’t supposed to be there. I was supposed to be in here… with you… Ok, I WANTED to be in here with you… Is that what you wanted to hear?” “I want to hear the truth you little fibber!” He briefly lifted his head from my chest, “Well, that’s the truth. I like you. There. Have some truth.” He buried his head back in my chest. I wrapped my arms around him and kissed the top of his head, smelling the sweet scent of his shampoo. “I like you more.” I said, and then tickled his sides, causing him to burst into laughter. I had no idea he’d be so ticklish! “Stop it, PERV!” He said between hysterics. This was the first time he’d shown me his playful side. I was fucking elated. He was sooooo fucking cute. Godfuckingdamnit! I couldn’t take it! Ever since we’d gotten home from the tournament it was like he was a different person. None of the intensity he’d displayed a majority of our time together. Just a playfulness. An openness. It made my eyes water. I thought lying next to him was my dream. I thought feeling his closeness was my dream. But it was THIS kind of intimacy I craved the most. Seeing a side of him he reserved just for me. My heart was bursting. He was gorgeous on the outside. But this sweetness. This closeness I felt. That was beyond anything looks could ever make me feel. He was an angel sent by God. I know that now. And I’ll protect my angel with my life. I know that too. I hardly slept that night. I just held him. Smelled him. Felt him against me. I went in and out of consciousness a few times and then woke to make sure he was still in my arms. What he lacked in verbal communication he made up for with his actions. I wanted to hear him tell me that I was beautiful too. That I made his world complete. That I made his stomach burn the way he made mine. Maybe those words would come eventually, I wasn’t sure. But when we were together, alone… He showed me a lot more than words ever could. I guess that old saying has some meaning after all: ‘Actions speak louder than words.’ God I hope that’s true. Please let that dumb old saying being true. My happiness. My hopes. My dreams. They’re all depending on that saying. Maybe one day I’ll hear those words. That will be the happiest day of my life. Well, the second happiest. Nothing can top this, right now. Nothing.
  15. chessdude

    Bad Bishop Part 1

    What a great comment! Thanks man. I'm glad you enjoyed it! And yes, one way of looking at a "bad bishop" is to say it's useless. But there's another way to look at it: A bad bishop is trapped. It's trapped in by the very pieces that are supposed to support it! It wants to fulfill it's purpose, but it's being blocked. I think from that point of view we can see how Ollie might feel that way (Think of Oscar and his dad holding him back from things he might otherwise be more open to). Nice to see a reader that knows the game! Thanks again buddy.
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