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    Rip Skor
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Boy Story: The Road Taken - 31. My Friend’s House

My Friend’s House

 

The next couple of weeks passed by accompanied with much studying, and then it was time for final exams. With finals, you never know how well you did because you take your exams and then you’re off campus for the summer before the exams are graded. You can only gauge how well you did by how you felt you did. Eventually you are pleased or not when you get your final grades mailed to you a month later. But the most important part is that once final exams are over, no more classes until September…and no more ulcers either!

This summer was shaping up to be very different than past ones. I now had a good-paying job lined up for the summer…preceded by an all-expenses paid vacation to Disney World in Florida…with Parker…and his mother and aunt. Life was good. I not only would get to experience Disney, but I got to do it with Parker. This would be our first 24/7 time together, so it was our first true experiment before literally spending the rest of the year together. I would be living with Parker and his mother while I worked at the country club in the summer, and then we would be living together in the college dorm during the semester…minus his mother, of course. What could go wrong, right?

My parents knew about my summer job and that I was staying with “a friend” over the summer allowing me to accept the job. At $20/hr. my parents weren’t going to ask too many questions. They just made sure I intended to pay my fair share while living with my friend’s family because my parents didn’t want their son to be a freeloader. I assured them I had worked out a deal with my friend’s parents. I gave my parents the address and phone number where I’d be staying in case of emergencies. I also promised to call home on a regular basis to “let them know I was still alive” as they put it.

I informed my dad that he didn’t have to come to help me move out of the dorm. Half of my stuff would be going to my “friend’s” house for the summer, and the rest I could fit in my car when I went home. To cover myself for the Disney trip, I told my parents that I was starting my job earlier than I actually was. If I told them the true nature about the Disney trip, minus the relationship part, they'd start asking too many questions. I decided to avoid all of that.

My exams were finished on Thursday afternoon. I loaded up my car on Friday with my belongings, mainly clothes, and I dropped them off while Parker was at school. Ginny was there to meet me and she gave me my very own set of keys to the house. She had me put my clothes in the dresser and bureau in Nick’s old room. Parker’s dresser and closet were already stuffed full of clothes, so there was no room at the inn. I finished putting away my clothes, and I let Ginny know I would be back on Thursday of next week for the Florida trip. Then I headed back up to campus for trip number two and the long ride home to stay with my parents for a week. Oh joy!

The plan was: on the following Thursday I would go back to Parker’s house while he was on his Senior Trip. Classes for him would end on Wednesday, so this Senior Trip was optional, but possibly the last chance he would have to see some of his classmates before Graduation. And then we’d all fly out on Saturday afternoon as planned.

This was the first time I would be staying at my parents’ house since I started seeing Parker. Of course, a few days with the parents and I began to question whether the whole boy/boy thing was a good idea at all. Just because it was allowed and supported in Parker’s world, does that make it OK for me to do whatever I wanted? Yes, a few days with the family and I was all mixed-up.

I did get to see my younger sister, Melissa or Missy as we called her, who was just finishing up her Junior year in high school. She tended to latch onto every new trend that came along and now she was going through her EMO phase. At first I thought it was Goth, but she informed me it was EMO. Who knew? My sister was now an alternative EMO chick with the black…well, everything…clothes, makeup, hair, whatever. She was a pretty girl, so the look kind of worked for her. When I first saw her, I was a bit shocked at the transformation that had taken place while I was away at school. My parents allowed this? What was the world coming to?

Apparently she had struck a deal with my parents. She could dress and make herself up any way she wanted as long as she agreed to: no tattoos, no body piercings (anywhere other than the earlobes), keep her grades up...and no drugs. Maybe my parents weren’t so inflexible after all. Most parents said girls are more difficult to raise, so maybe this was a well-crafted compromise to keep things from getting out of hand.

It didn’t take me long to realize that my relationship with my parents, my relationship with Parker, my relationship with my friends at school, and my relationship with Parker’s mother were each governed by a specific set of rules that I had to employ for each circumstance. The rules for one world could rarely be used in any of the other worlds and vice versa.

Once I figured that out, I was in a better place mentally…but I missed Parker terribly. We had been incommunicado for almost a week due to exams...and now I was back home. I didn’t give Parker my home phone number. I wanted to keep Parker separate from my parents’ world. He was too real, too pure to be subjected to a realm where appearances are everything even if what you are projecting is not real. I knew I could look forward to a week of masturbating frequently just to keep my sanity.

On Tuesday evening my parents went to some political function. I guess a friend of the family was running for Mayor and was having a fund-raiser dinner or something. They invited me to join them. I graciously declined. As it turned out, my sister was also working that night, so I had the house to myself. I called Parker. I knew at 5:30 on a Tuesday, he’d be at home about to eat dinner.

I called and he answered. As soon as I heard his voice, my throat tightened and I could hardly speak.

“Matt? Matt is that you?”

“Yes. Yes,” I tried to squeak out.

“Hey!...Is something wrong?”

“No, everything’s fine.”

“You sound funny. Like you can’t breathe,” he said concerned.

“I can’t. You took my breath away,” I used the moment to try to recover.

“Ha ha!” Then there was a bit of silence. “I miss you,” he said.

That’s all it took, those three words. I just lost it. I started weeping uncontrollably. Everything from finals week on, all the pressure, being back home, the move, being away from Parker, all of the trying to keep it together had suddenly reached critical mass and I unraveled.

Parker never witnessed me fall apart like that before, and he became very worried.

I managed between sobs to say, “Parker, I love you!”

Then he started crying because he thought there was something wrong. Then I started weeping even louder because I made him cry. There we were on the phone, bawling to each other. It was not one of my prouder moments, but I had no control over it. It just suddenly came over me.

Parker sternly ordered, “Matt, come here now!”

I sprang into action. I threw everything I needed for the summer into my car. I took a shower and wrote my parents a note saying: “There was an emergency at my new job and they needed someone fast. I’ll call you later.”

Then I got into my car and left. I think I just needed a good cry because en route to Parker’s house, I felt a lot better. Perhaps just being with him was all I really needed. The trip took exactly 80 minutes.

I pulled in the driveway because his mother wasn’t home, I shut off the engine, and jogged up the stairs. The door opened, and he was standing there waiting for me on the inside of the storm door. I stepped in the door and looked at his angelic face and his eyes were watery and red. It was a striking contrast of beauty vs. heartbreak. He started kissing me and I kissed back. He started crying again.

I said, “It’s OK, I’m here,” as I wiped the tears from his eyes with my hands.

“These are tears of joy,” he said in response.

Then we just sat on the stairs and continued kissing. Then he stopped for a moment, “Are you really and truly OK? Please, tell me the truth.”

“Yes, Parker, I’m fine. I was just feeling stressed and lonely. I was missing you so much.”

“Oh baby, I love you so much,” he said while hugging me tightly.

“I love you so much, too,” I assured him.

We went back to kissing, but kissing is such an ordinary term for what we were feeling at that time.

He grabbed my right wrist and said, “C’mon!”

He led me down the hall and to his bedroom. He pushed me onto the bed and began removing my clothes.
I was down to my underwear lying on my back when he grabbed my right ankle and lifted my leg. He began sucking on my toes.

“What are you doing, silly boy?”

“Haven’t you ever had your toes sucked before?”

“No!”

“Oh, well you don’t know what you’re missing…and you have such hot feet!”

I once went to have a plantar wart removed by a podiatrist and she said I had nice feet. I figured she must know what she’s talking about, but I never thought I’d have a use for that attribute. But then again this is a boy who has had just about every other part of my body in his mouth. He sucked the toes on each foot with great enthusiasm. Although it tickled, it made me quite horny. I looked down and the head of my cock had pushed up beyond my waistband. It didn’t take long for him to change his diet from feet to something a little more substantial. He just had to unwrap it first.

“Oh god, that’s so hot!” he exclaimed looking at my manhood.

He caressed and kissed it up and down and rubbed it all over his face. “Oh, I've been missing this so much too!” he declared emphatically.

Then it was in his mouth and the deep throating began. He had me moaning quickly. He broke from his meal to reach over to grab the lube. He squirted some in his hand and reached back to ready his hole. He then went to lube my cock, but there was already a good coating of his saliva all over it.

Seeing this, he closed the lube and tossed it on the bed. I didn’t need lube this time.

He grabbed me and pointed my manhood toward the ceiling. Then he quickly sat down on it and began riding me.

I felt his warm insides clutching my phallus as my clenched fists were full of his duvet. I must have cried out, “Oh fuck” about 20 times over the course of the next 15 or so minutes. I felt the pressure building and my toes began to curl. He leaned forward and kissed me deeply as I felt the inevitable conclusion almost upon me. My body shuddered and I groaned into his mouth as I emptied myself into him. He then sat up and pushed me onto my back and forced my mouth open with his hardness. As soon as I had my mouth wrapped around it, he unloaded. Again, I’m not a big lover of cum, but I was becoming OK with the taste of Parker. This was the final frontier. Now I could use all five senses on the object of my desire.

I lay there feeling a little guilty about being a big baby earlier. But I just got laid, so fuck it! He grabbed my right wrist and pulled me up off the bed. “Let’s go,” he said as I stood up behind him and hung my arms over his shoulders. He led me on the familiar path down the hallway to the bathroom. He ran the shower to achieve the right temperature and we got in.

“I’m sure glad there’s no water ban in effect,” he joked.

“Yeah, I guess we’d be forced to have less sex,” I answered.

“Nah, that’s what the swimming pool is for,” he replied. “All that chlorine should be good for something.”

That reminded me that I’d need to start caring for the pool when I was living there after the trip. I had never taken care of a pool before, but I knew there was: daily skimming, weekly vacuuming, and adding and monitoring the chemicals. And that would most likely be followed by some canoodling in the pool.

Well, I was now living at Parker's house for the duration before the trip. When she arrived home, I tried to explain to Ginny why I was there early in a way that made sense. It didn’t to me, but she said she understood. She said she didn’t mind me being there a little early. I offered to drive Parker to and from school for the rest of the week. He was thrilled. I was thrilled just to be there in the same house in the same bed. I was where I belonged.

I made up a BS story to tell my parents about someone getting injured at my “soon to be new job.” As a result, they were short a person and called me because they needed help. Fortunately, my parents were fine with it.

Even though I had to get up early, I enjoyed driving Parker to school each day. He kissed me as a show of thanks each time before he left the car. This time we didn’t even try to hide it. It was not only the end of the school year, it was also his final days attending this school. At that point, who cares if anybody sees? I was sure to return to the school each day by 2:00 to pick him up at the same door.

After the Monday drop off, I got back to the house, popped into the bathroom to douche myself, and then went back to bed. He hadn’t fucked me in a while and I was due. I got up again around 10:30 and encountered Ginny getting ready for work. I poured myself some Lucky Charms for breakfast. Ginny came over when she saw me sit at the table.

“Good morning…almost afternoon,” she said insinuating the obvious.

“Yeah, I know. Just trying to get in as much sleep as I can before we go on the trip,” I assured her.

“That’s OK, I was just teasing. I know you got up earlier to drive Parker to school, so thank you.”

“Well, I figured since I came here earlier than expected, I should make myself useful,” I explained.

“I’m glad you’re here.“

“Me too.”

“So you’re all moved in and ready to start work when we get back?”

“Yup.”

“Well, you probably didn’t expect to hear this, but I’m glad you’re in my son’s life. I think you two are good for each other.”

It seemed I’d heard that before from somebody. But hearing it from Ginny was very encouraging.

“Just, uh, you know, keep up the good work, OK?”

“Sure.”

“Oh, and since you will be living here...welcome to the family!”

x

x

x

© 2014 Rip Skor
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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Chapter Comments

About labels... Humans like to label EVERYTHING! Like it or not, that's just how humans think. It's how we make sense of the world; how we distinguish one type of from another otherwise very similar thing. Imagine how chaotic our world would be if we didn't have a way of distinguishing an acid from a base, a dog from a cat or a criminal from a law-biding citizen, etc. The problem isn't with labels. The problem comes in when we attach VALUE to a label. The value we've attached to being gay or straight has changed dramatically throughout history. What used to be a crime is now protected by law. It used to be legal for a man to beat his wife, children, slaves and animals because they were legally protected as being his property. Enough said.

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On 1/17/2016 at 12:41 PM, Nahrung said:

About labels... Humans like to label EVERYTHING! Like it or not, that's just how humans think. It's how we make sense of the world; how we distinguish one type of from another otherwise very similar thing. Imagine how chaotic our world would be if we didn't have a way of distinguishing an acid from a base, a dog from a cat or a criminal from a law-biding citizen, etc. The problem isn't with labels. The problem comes in when we attach VALUE to a label. The value we've attached to being gay or straight has changed dramatically throughout history. What used to be a crime is now protected by law. It used to be legal for a man to beat his wife, children, slaves and animals because they were legally protected as being his property. Enough said.

Perfectly said. What if being straight or gay was as mundane as whether you prefer chocolate or vanilla ice cream?

Edited by Rip Skor
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