I strip quickly, shoving my clothes into my bag and tucking it into the closet. Leon has settled on the couch with his laptop, while I assume Mac is in the bathroom. Carlos lies on the bed by the window, already stroking himself.
“¡Hola, cariño! How’ve you been?” he says. “I haven’t seen you since Brazil last year.”
“Hey, Carlos. I’ve been good. You’re looking as sexy as ever,” I reply, winking. I’ve always liked him. He’s sweet, playful, and undeniably talented between the sheets.
He smirks. “I’m glad you made it. Did you meet Ray, the guy who was going to fill in for you? I’m not a fan. I don’t know how Jay puts up with him. He’s a real dick.”
Before I can answer, more guys filter in, ramping up the noise level. Laying down on the bed closest to the door, I stroke myself to get hard. Carlos’s comment confirms my earlier suspicions, and now I’m curious to meet Ray and to see their dynamic firsthand.
The room grows rowdy as everyone is ready to start the party. All the guys are here, except for Jay. I want him to be here, but I wouldn’t put it past him if he chickened out.
Even though he had confessed his feelings to me first the night of Homecoming, he hesitated with getting physical. We had built up slowly, each touch a careful negotiation between our fears and our overwhelming desire for each other. But we were teenagers, with powerful hormones raging through us.
The gradual progress was painful; the constant hum of tension between our deepest desires and the terror of being caught. There was a continuous echo of my father’s booming voice from the pulpit, purity culture so deeply ingrained, warning us that giving in was wrong. But the closer we grew together, the harder it became to resist.
One night, parked at our favorite hiking trail, the sky already dark despite the early hour, we slipped into the back seat of my blue Toyota Corolla. The cold air bit at us, and the windows foggedfrom our ragged breaths. Jay moved into my lap, straddling me, his body warm against mine. We were both rock hard, and I slid my hand over him, rubbing his erection through the fabric of his pants, feeling the heat pulsing between us.
Jay moaned, “That feels so good, Aiden. I want more.”
“You like that?” I asked him, lust bleeding into my voice.
“God, yes.”
I continued to stroke him through his pants. He ground his pelvis against me; the friction was electrifying. We were both so horny; it didn’t take much before we couldn’t hold back anymore.
Jay’s hard body, pulsing and grinding, went rigid.
“I’m gonna come, Aiden,” he cried out, the warm moisture of his release soaking through the thin fabric of his sweatpants.
As ecstasy shot through me, my hips jerked, and I creamed my pants. I should have been more careful not to make a mess of my clothes, but after such an earth-shattering orgasm, I couldn’t bring myself to care.
“That was awesome,” Jay exclaimed, panting, as he planted a hungry kiss on my mouth. “Explain to me why we waited so long to do that.”
I rested my forehead against his, still trying to catch my breath, chuckling. “You’ve said it before; we can be a little dumb sometimes.”
Jay wrapped his arms around me, holding me close. “The more we do, the more I want. I want all of you.”
“I want that, too, baby.”
Baby is the pet name I started calling him after we secretly watched Dirty Dancing. Jay bypassed his house’s parental controls so we could watch movies we weren’t supposed to. We bothswooned a little over the line, “Nobody puts Baby in the corner.” At first, I said it as a joke, but it quickly became ours. I loved calling him that.
He leaned back, meeting my gaze with steady conviction. “You know there’s nothing wrong with us and what we’re doing. How could there possibly be anything wrong with loving someone so much?”
“There’s not. No matter what my father says, I have to believe that. I love you too much,” I said, my voice steady and unwavering.
After that night, we quickly escalated to grinding naked, frotting our dicks together, which then led to blow jobs. Since we stayed at each other’s houses almost every weekend, finding time alone was easy, and we couldn’t keep our hands off each other. Our parents were oblivious, but we were careful—our bedroom doors locked, and we propped chairs against the doorknobs for extra peace of mind.
In the winter of our junior year, Jay’s dad lost his job, and we dreaded what that could mean for us. After months of looking, he landed a job in Portland just before the end of the school year. The idea of being apart was unbearable, so we begged our parents to let Jay stay with my family for our senior year.
It was the last day of school, and we were both on edge, nervous that my parents would say no. For two weeks, they debated back and forth while we campaigned relentlessly, insisting that Jay’s staying in Rochester was the best option. In the end, I think they relented just to shut us up.
“Boys, we’ve decided to allow Jayson to stay with our family during his senior year,” my father announced that night as we sat around the dinner table at my house with Jay’s parents. “It’s in thebest interest of everyone involved, and we understand how difficult it would be for Jayson to start at a new school out of state at this point.”
“Thank you so much, sir,” Jay said, relief clear in his voice. “You won’t regret it. I’ll help around the house and do whatever you need. I promise.” Everyone laughed at his earnestness.
“We don’t doubt that,” my mom added, smiling warmly. “Now, since you offered to help, why don’t you boys clear the table and do the dishes before heading out to whatever you have planned this evening?”
We cleaned up quickly, ready to be alone and celebrate. I already knew exactly what I wanted to do when I got Jay up to my bedroom.
