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    Ronyx
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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. 

Apple of Her Eye - 1. Chapter 1

Apple of Her Eye was my first attempt at writing. I had considered trying to write a story for a few years. Late on a March night in 2006, I threw caution to the wind and decided to attempt it. I submitted the first chapter to Nifty, and readers immediately requested more! This is how I began.

It all started out so ordinary. The two of us were just sitting on his bed, listening to some music coming from his stereo on the book shelf. He had it up kind of loud, and his mother had hollered up to us several times to “turn that damn music down!” We would look at each other and giggle. We would play it softly for several minutes, and before long it was blasting away again. Hey, we’re only 16, like we’re not going to play our music loud. I swear, sometimes I think parents forget what it was like to be teenagers. I guess they went from childhood straight to adulthood.

We were sitting on the bed, kicking back and listening to music when our legs began to touch lightly. I know Shaun didn’t think anything of it, but I sure did. I have had the hots for Shaun for as long as I could remember. We’ve best friends for ages. We met in the fifth grade, and six years later we are still the best of friends. Who wouldn’t love Shaun? He has everything going for him: looks, intelligence and a personality that would make anyone take notice of him.

Again, we touched legs, and I intentionally let the contact last a little longer. I could feel my dick start to tent in my tight shorts. We had done this before, but my rampant teen hormones had never kicked in like they were tonight. I looked briefly at him, letting my gaze last a little longer. I looked at his light brown hair curling up slightly around his neck and flowing gently onto his forehead. I had been lost in those blue eyes a million times, but I never let Shaun see the desire in my eyes. Tonight, however, was different. Tonight, I wanted Shaun. I wanted his strong, long body lying on mine, kissing me passionately while our hard cocks grind sensuously into each other. I wanted to taste him and take his hard cock into my mouth. God, what was I thinking! I couldn’t do this. Shaun was straight, and I was not.

As we sat and listened to the music, I began to regret the thoughts I was having. Shaun is my best friend. I couldn’t possibly be in love with my best friend. After all these years, I was able to put my feelings into the back of my mind, never letting them surface. Sure, I let them escape when I was alone in my room at night, and my dick would get hard begging for relief. Thoughts of Shaun’s hard, muscular body would appear in my mind. I could see him changing into his swimming suit when we were at the pool. He would always turn his back to me, but occasionally he would turn just enough for me to get a quick glimpse of his soft cock lying softly upon two large balls. And then there was that ass! That vision would get me through hundreds of jack-off sessions. He would quickly slip on his suit, turn to me and say, “Let’s move it, Gary.” Then he’d walk away, never aware that my eyes were frozen to that wonderful bubble butt ass of his. I’d go home at night and beat off twice with that vision in my mind.

I just couldn’t take it anymore. We were rubbing legs, my dick was hard and all I could think of was leaning over and kissing those red lips on his beautiful face. Shaun was beautiful. All the girls knew it. He had a steady stream of girlfriends, never settling on just one. “Why have a steady girlfriend, when I can be a player?” he would always say. He dated a lot, but he would never tell me how far he would go with a girl. I would tease and hint about it, but he would just say he had a good time. I guess it was probably best that way. The thought of him grinding his masculine frame onto some girl’s smaller body was not a thought I wanted to have. It was probably better that I didn’t know. I just assumed he wasn’t a virgin like me and left it at that.

I looked over at him once more, and he looked back. For some reason, I could not pry my gaze from his blue eyes. I looked deeply into them, trying to find something, anything, that would tell me he felt something for me.

All I got was, “Jesus, Gary, what’s wrong with you? You’re looking at me like you’re a fag or something!” Pulling his leg from mine, he jumped away from me on the bed.

Suddenly I came back to reality, realizing that I had been staring at my best friend and doing just what he said I was doing, acting like a fag. Then his eyes looked down, and he saw the bulge protruding from my tented shorts. His eyes came back up to meet mine, and I will never forget the look I saw in them. Disgust. That’s the only word that would even come close to what I saw in those beautiful blue eyes. Only now they weren’t beautiful. They were harsh and cold as they looked at me. Without a word, I got up from his bed, put on my shoes and left his room. I rushed down the stairs and ran all the way home. By the time I reached my front door, tears were streaming down my face and my heart was pounding. I knew that he now knew, and I don’t know if I can face him again.

I opened the door and walked into the living room trying desperately to avoid my mother. I knew my face was tear-stained, and I didn’t want her to ask me why I had been crying. No such luck.

“Gary, come here a minute,” ordered my mother from the couch. She had been reading, and she put down her book when she noticed my face.

“What’s wrong, dear? Why have you been crying?” I just stood there frozen like a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming car. After a few long seconds I finally spoke.

“It’s nothing. I think I may be catching a cold,” I lied. She knew I was lying. I hated doing that. I loved my mother and never intentionally lied to her. She was the only thing I had. My father left us years ago. I don’t even remember him. When I would ask about him, she would say that he was a good man, but that they just couldn’t make it work. When I would try to delve a little deeper, I would just get “the look.” You know that look; the one only a mother can give her child. The one that means stop doing what you are doing. In this case, asking too many questions.

On more than one occasion I had thought about telling her that I was gay, but I always seemed to back down. I didn’t think she would react too badly. She was a teacher, and I am sure she had many gay and lesbian students in her class over the years. So, I didn’t think she would kick me out of the house or resort to any other drastic action. I guess I just didn’t want to see the look of disappointment in her eyes. She had always said that I was the apple of her eye. I could not bear to think that I could be anything less than what she wanted. I was her only child. I was to carry on the family name, give her grandchildren and make her life complete, as she once told me.

“Anything you want to talk about?” she asked me with concern in her voice. I knew she wouldn’t press me for more. She always gave me my space, and she would never pressure me into talking if I didn’t want to.

“No, Mom, I’m just going to bed. Okay?” I said without making my voice tremble too much.

“All right, Honey. I’ll check in on you later. If you ever want to talk, I have a good ear. That’s part of a mother’s job, you know.”

“Thanks, Mom. I know. Love you.” I couldn’t hold it in any more. I quickly turned and hurried to my room while the tears began to flow once again. I’d had bad feelings before, but this night was one of the worse I had ever experienced. Everything I thought I had under control was collapsing around me. I’d lost Shaun as my best friend, and I knew that soon I would have to disappoint the one person I didn’t want to hurt, my mother. I fell down on my bed, buried my face into my pillow and cried myself to sleep.

Remember, this was my first attempt at writing. I realize it is brief, but the chapters will get longer as the story progresses. I hope you enjoy Apple of Her Eye.
Copyright © 2006 by Ronyx All Rights Reserved
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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

11 minutes ago, Page Scrawler said:

Back in 2006?!  :o I was 12 back then, and just realizing I was gay.  :*)

@droughtquake Hush, you! @Ronyx is NOT old!

I feel ancient! I turned 47 that year! I’m almost old enough to be your grandpa!  ;–P

 

Stay warm, @Page Scrawler. I’ll be thinking of you when it dips below 50°F at night a couple times this week. It’ll be around 60°F during the days…  ;–)

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On 1/28/2019 at 8:18 AM, droughtquake said:

Even in your first attempt, your skill shines through even if it’s less polished than your later work.

 

If Gary were real, he’d be turning 29 this year! In a few years, he too could be dealing with a teenager. How does that make you feel, Grandpa @Ronyx?  ;–)

 

On 1/28/2019 at 1:32 PM, Page Scrawler said:

Back in 2006?!  :o I was 12 back then, and just realizing I was gay.  :*)

@droughtquake Hush, you! @Ronyx is NOT old!

 

On 1/28/2019 at 1:49 PM, droughtquake said:

I feel ancient! I turned 47 that year! I’m almost old enough to be your grandpa!  ;–P

 

On 1/28/2019 at 2:13 PM, Ronyx said:

Yeah, @droughtquake Listen to PS.  😝:fight:

All I was trying to suggest was that all these characters are Ronyx’s babies and Gary's potential child would be Ron’s grandchild. I’m sure at least one or two of my high school classmates are great-grandparents since most of us are turning 60 this school year. The important thing is that we’re still alive – at least one of my junior high school classmates didn’t survive to make it to high school.

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I have read this story before too (several times I think), but am keen to revisit it as I intend to do with all @Ronyx's "back catalogue". 

The common denominator with all the stories written by him is that he gets you in hook, line and sinker with the first chapter. Thereafter its angst, sadness, happiness, hate and love, all shaken and stirred to create a wonderful tale to entertain, educate and provoke. What more could one ask for from an author I ask you?

Edited by Summerabbacat
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