It had been a few days since that fateful night of the party. The night I finally took my shot at Irina Sommers, the girl I had been pining over for years. But more importantly, the night I discovered one of my best friends, Paul, giving head to a college student named Tony in the woods. It was also the night I didn’t stop watching them while they were at it.What I had seen that night and the confusing morass of emotions and impressions hadn’t left my mind. As I spent time with my friends, I kept my eyes on Paul. Watching him for signs of irregularity, of guilt or secrecy. But he played it cool, unknowing of my discovery, acting as he always had.I found myself angry with Paul, although what exactly for, I couldn’t tell you. Maybe it was because he had been keeping such secrets from our group who shared everything with one another. Maybe it was jealousy, but at the time such a concept would have been ludicrous to me. It was probably just a feeling of exclusion, so common at that age.In any case, I was testy with him as we hung out that week. I would pick little squabbles, always finding fault in insignificant details of him. He seemed perturbed when this animosity persisted, but not enough to say anything. Paul was cool, never rising to the occasion when meaningless arguments cropped up. From his point of view, I was probably just skulking since my long-awaited tryst with Irina had been such a dud. In a way, that was true.But, truth be told, Irina was far from my mind during those long August days. The experience had left me a little underwhelmed, and my disenchantment with her was overshadowed by this seemingly big mystery surrounding Paul and Tony. I watched him closely as we goofed around at Brandon’s place, or wherever our adventures took us.He noticed this, pensive as he was. It took five days from the night of the party for him to say something, although it was innocuous enough when he did.“Hey, Dean, man, you got a minute?”He had caught me on our bike route home, which intersected until we parted ways on Clemont Drive. I could tell he had been waiting for this, probably to make a quick escape if things turned sour. I stopped abruptly on the corner of Clemont and Perks, ready to unholster all of my dirt on him if he made me any madder than I already was. For whatever reason, I couldn’t say.“Yeah, what?”My response was testy and too quick. His expression went from surprise to blank almost immediately. His hands gripped the handlebars of his bike tightly, wringing them as he looked from the ground to my fierce gaze.“I’ll tell you what, you’ve been ragging on me for days, seemingly out of nowhere. Is there something wrong, dude? Did I do something?”“What? Nah, man. You’re good.”I smiled at him. Tried my best to keep from showing how conflicted I felt about him. I guess I did a pretty poor job because his look darkened a bit. Paul smiled weakly back at me.“Good. I was pretty confused there for a bit. But whatever you say, Dean-o.”“Yeah man, no worries.”He suddenly started, mounting his bike and taking it around in small, lazy circles. He circled me as I stood there a couple of times, then started making his way towards home. I saddled up, too. My head was swimming. Not due to the nature of our conversation, but because he seemed to be holding back just as much as I was. Had he seen me that night, in the woods out beyond the torchlight?“Hey, Dean.”I almost fell off my Schwinn jerking my head around to look at him, panic running its numbing fingers over my spinal cord.“Yeah, Paul?”“If something was wrong, you’d tell me, right?”“Of course, dude. What’s eating you? You’re normally not such a sap.”“Nothing, man. Just being paranoid, I guess.”I thought about his words on my short bike ride home. There was no doubt in my mind that Paul’s actions the night of the party were fully intentional. No amount of boozing and pot-smoke would cause him to go so cock-crazy like that. Right? If it was a random chance act, happening because he was so loopy he didn’t know guy from girl, he wouldn’t remember enough to be guilty about it, would he?I’m surprised I made it home in one piece that evening. I don’t think I paid a single iota of attention to what was going on around me until I was sitting in my room, bike forgotten in the backyard. I kept ranging back and forth between trying to puzzle out if Paul was a homo and picturing what he’d done with Tony under the cover of night.After a while of proverbially pacing over those two thoughts, my mind began to wander some. I thought about Irina again, as I always did when left to my own devices. I remembered her clumsy hands underneath my shorts, the minty-cigarette taste of her lips, the frustration as she left me there in the dark to go find her friends.I let things unfold in the gallery isvecbahis of my mind, then, thinking about what had happened next. Thinking about how it had felt, watching them. They had no idea I had been there, spying on their secret meeting. I wondered what would have happened if they’d found me, shorts around my ankles, jerking off while watching one of my best friends in the world swallow Tony’s cum. Probably kick my ass, or worse… what?Would that have been bad, whatever worse was? Would I have gone along with it? If Tony had rushed over and grabbed me, pushed me down onto my knees, placed the head of his big college cock at my lips, what would I do? Or would I be the one to rush over and give Paul some more meat to work with… would he like that? Would I?A whirlwind of what-ifs raced around in my head, and I surfaced for just a moment as I heard the front door open. I shook my head like a cartoon character coming out of an imaginary daze. I looked to my bedroom door, hoping it was closed, locked like I usually left it. It was. But why would I be worried about that?But I was worried. A thin sheen of sweat broke out over my brow. I realized that the sensation of fear I was feeling right then was shame, fear of being found, as if my mother, home from work, would be able to tell I was imagining Paul subserviently slurping my member in the woods that night.I looked down slowly, like a horror movie where the distressed damsel realizes that there’s someone else in that dark room with her. My dick was hard, achingly hard, straining at the tight confinement of my jeans. I could feel something warm, slightly wet in my briefs. I shifted my weight onto my elbow, leaning over to turn on the lamp on my bedside table. That simple, subtle movement sent shivers along my midsection as my briefs cradled my cock.The wet sensation I felt before was precum, more of it than was usual for me. I numbly unbuttoned my jeans, unblinking, unbreathing, feeling the sensations radiating from my core as my manhood moved ever so slightly. As I slid my briefs down, my cock flipped straight up to my stomach with a smack!Some of my precum flipped from the tip as it flew, spattering up along my shirt, leaving dark stains where it fell. Like before, I noticed how intensely hard it was, like a newfound muscle was working in my pelvis, forcing it upwards, outwards. I could hear my heartbeat in my ears, and the incessant pounding of my pulse worked just as strongly in my cock as if I was already cumming.At that moment — and I remember vividly now, how much of a fulcrum that afternoon was in my development as a person — I thought of Paul after he had finished Tony, when he was alone underneath that tree the night of the party. I pictured him working his own cock, then spitting on his fingers and putting them down below, playing with his ass. Then I remembered him cumming onto the grass, his hips pumping in time as he shot his hot cum, and so much of it, too.My orgasm caught me off guard, not like the time before. I wasn’t prepared. One moment I was rubbing the dribbling precum I had produced all over the slick head of my member, and as I thought about Paul cumming alone in the woods with me watching, I was cumming too.My vision blurred, my knees locking and my quadriceps tensing so tightly I thought my legs would break. I pumped my hips minutely, thrusting my spasming cock into the lubed press of my tightly closed fist, and I felt that same insane, full-body tingling sensation as I began to shoot. Twice I pumped dry, and as my balls tightened towards my body I shot the first stream of white, hot jizz into the air.It arced lazily, so much farther than I had ever shot before, and landed on the underside of my chin. My head was thrown back, and as I felt the heat of my own seed soak my exposed throat, more was coming, much more. My breath left me in gasps, as if all the force my body could produce was pumping cum out of me with breakneck abandon.When it passed, I lay there like a stack of bricks, dead to the world, my cock still pumping up against the hot air of my bedroom, although there was nothing left to shoot. I was spread-eagled on the stained bedspread, cum soaking my sweaty shirt, my lungs working furiously to restore order.I stayed blank for a while, refusing to think about what had just transpired, for the second time. As the post-orgasmic glow faded, a rush of anxious thoughts assailed me, and that same sweaty fear wound its way back into my mind. I stared at the ceiling, my thoughts racing, trying desperately to figure out how this all worked out.Was I like them? Like Tony and Paul? Like that guy Lenny Reddinger from my sophomore-year geometry class? Somehow, Paul seemed of a different sort than Lenny Reddinger. Somewhere in my jumbled brain, isveçbahis giriş Paul was granted a higher station of okayness than Lenny. Because he hid what he did, not letting anyone else in on it. But was that really right?I decided then and there that I wasn’t gay, that Paul probably wasn’t, either. Neither of us were like lilting, effeminate Lenny, who had been openly gay as long as I’d known him. We just got our rocks off when it suited us, and most girls at our school were prudes anyhow, so it just made things easier. I had no clue that I had just subconsciously placed myself with Paul on whatever level of the cocksucking hierarchy he was stationed at.I slept soon after, dreamlessly. Upon waking, my post-orgasmic clarity about the nature of my sexuality was washed away, and the mild feelings of shame about what I had been up to, returned. I dressed slowly, nothing going on that I needed to hurry towards on that sunny Wednesday morning. As I made my way around the empty house, I resolved to call up the guys, maybe rustle up some adventure. I needed to get my mind off of things, but seeing Paul was a necessary evil for that to happen.Brandon was out of town for the next few days on a family vacation, so his souped-up garage was out as the hangout spot. It seemed Keller was busy as well, some training day-camp for the local minor league team he had joined after the inter-school league had concluded some weeks prior. That left Jamie and Paul as my potential compatriots against boredom.I called Jamie first, hoping to secure a safe buffer between the dreaded possibility of hanging out alone with Paul. He answered on the second ring. Apparently, he had the same idea as me when it came to how to spend his day, which was relieving. Some normalcy would do me good, I thought.“Hey, Dean, how’s it hangin’, my man?” Jamie always answered the phone in a campy New Yorker accent. Usually, it annoyed me because I called him just about every day. Today I welcomed his idiosyncrasy, even played along a little.“Jaaamie! It’s hangin’, alright, how low I won’t disclose. Need-to-know basis, you unnastand.”“Ohh, woah, woah, big guy, you misunnastood me, capiche? What’s up, dude? You want to chill?”“Sure do, brother. You feel like taking a little nature walk with me and Pauly from down the street?” I fidgeted mindlessly as we talked, already anxious to get out of the house. It was barely ten o’clock.“Amen, let’s get to it. You wanna grab Paul from his place? I called him a little bit ago but he didn’t answer. Probably still asleep.”“Yeah, yeah, I’ll wake the young master from his slumbers. Meet you at the spot in an hour? I gotta eat something first.”“Sounds like a plan.”I ate quickly, cold cereal and an orange. A “nature walk” was our particular code for smoking dope and listening to the radio down by the local train tracks, sometimes for hours. It was simple fun, but fun nonetheless. We kept it simple because as soon as we made having fun a complex task, it would stay that way. That’s how I felt, anyhow.Ten minutes after my phone call with Jamie, I was out of the house, mounted up on my bike. Paul’s place wasn’t far, just short of a mile from my own. He lived in a middling-sized rambler in the nicer corner of Peaks, nicer than my own home by a fair pitch. As I rolled into his driveway, I noticed his mother’s car wasn’t there. Out running errands, I surmised.Paul’s room was around the back side of the house, on the corner near the back door. I would usually go right up to his window and knock lightly, as Paul’s mother was known for her government-level interrogations when his friends came around. Seeing as she was gone, I went right up to the door. I knocked smartly, hoping to keep this part of the journey short. I wasn’t sure how comfortable I was hanging out with Paul alone for any stretch of time just then.My knocks went unanswered, so I tried the door. Unlocked. I ditched my bike in the grass, taking care not to ruin Paul’s mother’s potted plants, and let myself in. The tan carpet was just as it always was, dusted with a fair bit of cat hair; Paul’s family owned no less than three of them. I encountered the newest of the three shortly after entering the dim hallway, as she rounded the corner from the kitchen as I wiped off my shoes on the mat. Lambent eyes glaring at me, Penny the cat approached lithely as I bent to offer my hand for smelling.She wound her way around my knees, purring mildly as I scratched her soft gray ears. I played with her for a moment longer, then stood abruptly as I remembered my plan to quickly grab Paul and scram for our nature walk. Penny stared at me a bit longer, then walked off with a smooth gait when I offered no ongoing comforts. I stared around for the other two cats, wondering where they isveçbahis yeni giriş might be, before walking down the hall towards Paul’s bedroom.His door was plastered with stickers, as well as a large poster for a big concert involving some of our favorite bands. It was tattered and hanging loosely, as it seemed the cats had been at it. I knocked lightly, wondering if Paul was even home, or if he’d maybe gone off with his mother to run some errands. The door wasn’t latched, and my knock sent it gliding smoothly inwards on its hinges.Paul was home, asleep as Jamie had guessed. I took a tentative step forward, the idea of waking him up when no one was supposed to be home making me nervous. The floorboards creaked underneath me, and I stood perfectly still, my weight planted on the ball of my foot in front of me. I had no idea why I didn’t just say something and wake him up, and the idea of him waking up and finding me standing over his bed like this was positively mortifying.But I didn’t move. I stood and stared. I hadn’t really ever paid much attention to the appearance of my friends or their bodies, but in that moment I was curious. The sun was streaming in between the blinds, and Paul’s dark brown hair was illuminated, as were the strong contours of his jaw. As I looked at him, I relaxed a little. He was clearly deeply asleep, his mouth slightly open, his breathing heavy and even.Paul had kicked the covers off in his sleep and was only wearing a pair of boxers. His body wasn’t amazing or anything, Paul didn’t play sports or work out past biking around town. But he was lean and toned from the summer’s activities. As I watched him sleep, the rise and fall of his chest led my gaze downwards. I resisted internally, telling myself that this was wrong, and if he woke up with my staring at his junk, Paul would think I was gay for sure.I looked again at his face, searching for any inclination that he would wake. Paul remained as he was, breathing evenly, mouth ajar, a small line of drool running at the corner of his lips. I had never noticed how full they were before. Satisfied that he wouldn’t wake, my eyes trailed their way downwards, past the little trail of hair leading to the waistband of his boxers. As they went lower, my eyes almost bulged out of their sockets. Paul was sporting a hard-on!His morning wood was obscured by the loose material of his underwear, but I could clearly see the outline of his dick against the red plaid background. As I took it in, admiring the size of it, Paul’s dick moved slightly, straightening out, getting harder! It seemed to palpitate once, then settle back a bit before straightening out fully, pushing the material of his boxers, making them taut.I stood and stared in wonder at the full length of Paul’s cock, still obscured by his underwear. It seemed to be about the same size as my own, maybe a bit longer, I couldn’t be sure. Every few seconds or so, it would shift and pump slightly. My eyes were glued to it, and I realized that my own member was rock hard in my own underwear. I shifted my weight slightly and adjusted my hardness so it angled down my leg. When I did this, a jolt of pleasure rocked its way up my shaft, and my hand lingered there. I gripped my cock firmly, then slid my palm down its length, relishing the feeling it produced.I closed my eyes for a moment and exhaled deeply, deciding to go back outside and wait until my hard-on cooled down, then knock on his window to wake him up as if I had never been here. When I opened them again, I was frozen solid where I stood. Paul’s eyes were open, and he was staring directly at me. We made eye contact, and I watched as his gaze dropped down to my crotch, where my cock was making a plainly visible outline in my jeans, fully erect.“Ehhhmm,” I stammered, breaking away from looking at him, staring at the wall. I could feel the blood rushing to my face as I feverishly thought of some way to explain this, to make it normal. Nothing came up.“What’s up, dude?” Paul asked casually, his voice heavy with sleep.“I uhhh, man, came over to get you.” I felt like the dumbest guy in the world in that moment. My brain ran a short circuit, there must have been smoke coming out of my ears.I looked over at him, then, and the expression on Paul’s face was a confused mess. His cheeks were as red as mine, if not more so. His eyebrows furrowed, his posture defensive. He had pulled the blankets over his midsection, covering his morning wood from view. He looked up at me, and I held his stare. Something clicked, then, and I realized that Paul must have been more embarrassed by far in that moment. He didn’t know what I knew and was probably scared I would make things awkward for both of us. Maybe he hadn’t noticed my erection in his post-sleep daze, too focused on covering his own.“I saw you in the woods. With Tony Bates.”Paul’s eyes widened, his mouth dropping open and the last traces of sleepiness leaving his posture. I had no idea what had driven me to say that to him, it had just come out.