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This story involves oral sex between two men. For those of you who subsequently believe it should go in the gay category: I believe the relationship of the two characters in question trumps their gender.
“Hey, Aaron, how’s it goin’?”
“Not bad: just one day after another, you know?”
“Yeah, know what you mean. Well, hey, the reason I called…”
‘Here it comes,’ I thought, Sean never calls unless he wants something. He’s a good enough kid, but not exactly all that self-reliant. He’s my mom’s youngest sister’s boy, and his dad left them when he was three, so I’ve been more-or-less the father figure in his life, even though we live three hours away. The real kicker here is that, even though he’s my cousin, he’s young enough to be my own son. Just the way it worked out in his family. They’d given up hope of having kids, after trying for years (granted, they had a lot of fun trying), but when Aunt Iris and Gordon came to the conclusion that it was never going to happen, within a month, they came back with, “We’re pregnant!”
Even though Aunt Iris’ age was a concern, she was determined that she was going to see the pregnancy through. Although it was rough on her, Sean was hale and hearty, to the relief of everyone involved. It was about the time they moved for Gordon’s job that he decided he wanted something else and just up and left his wife and child behind.
I don’t remember how Sean and I became so close, but suffice it to say we did. The whole family urged Aunt Iris to move back so we’d all be closer, but she’d found work where they’d moved, and didn’t have any prospects back home, so she stayed where she was. Sean and I phoned at least twice a week, and when email came along, we kept in touch that way. When cell phones started taking over, I became more and more suspicious. I liked the ability to disappear every once in a while, so I hesitated joining the modern world. Sean was okay with keeping things simple, tech-wise, so we kept Ma Bell in business, and looked forward to the ability to see each other at holidays and maybe once or twice during the course of the year.
As I’ve said, Sean and I were close. Some of what he wrote in his emails were the kinds of things you only tell your closest friend, and sometimes not even then. So, I knew he trusted me implicitly, probably more than if I’d been his real dad. It was a good – if sometimes daunting – feeling.
“I’ve signed up for classes at ________ College starting next term, and wondered if you could put me up for orientation weekend?” The college he mentioned was the one in the town near which we’d lived, the one his mom and the rest of our family had attended. Even the family members who moved hundreds of miles away sent their kids back to go to school there. It was like a family tradition, one that no one had the nerve to break.
It was a relief. Sometimes, the things he asked for were a tall order to fill, but we’d managed over the years. He wasn’t a bad kid, so it hadn’t been necessary to bail him out of jail, and he never announced that he’d gotten anybody pregnant or anything, but sometimes you hear words come out of people’s mouths and your first response is: “You what?”
Without getting my wife’s permission, I immediately told him, “Absolutely. Drew’s room’s still empty, and if your mom wants to come along, we’ve got room for her, too.” My son, Andrew, was married with kids of his own. Sean had just graduated high school.
“Great,” he responded. “Thanks.” He then went on to give me the details about when he’d be coming, and invited me to tour the campus with him. I told him that sounded like a great idea, and we hung up.
When my wife came home, I gave her the news. Fortunately, she liked Sean, so my invitation for him to stay with us wasn’t a problem. We then got to work cleaning the room I’d offered, since I’d been lying when I told him our son’s old room was open. We’d been storing stuff in there almost since the day Drew moved out, and he left almost as soon as he graduated high school.
Anyhow, we got our own lives in order, and waited for my cousin, Sean, to arrive.
The day finally came, and when the doorbell rang, it was with great joy that we invited Sean into our home. He’d been off on some kind of tour with school last family holiday, so it’d been a while since we’d seen him.
I had to admit, although Gordon turned out to be an asshole, he and my aunt did good work. Sean was a handsome young man: tall, with short, dark hair, and an athletic build, even if he wasn’t really an athlete: it was just the result of possessing a youthful metabolism. Chances were, when he got older, he’d suffer the same battles with health the rest of us were experiencing. At the moment, though, he displayed all the vibrancy his age afforded.
We hugged, my wife gave him a peck on the cheek and a hug, and the dog gave him a sniff and a bark, too. We invited him into the house, and as we made with a little small-talk, I found I was fake hospital porno surprised at how good-looking a guy I thought he was.
I’m not gay. I love my wife and adore sex with her, but I’ve sown some wild oats in my day – some of them, mighty wild – so I generally come at life, and sexual situations, a little differently than many people might. I’m an open-minded sort of person, I guess I’m trying to say. Don’t attempt to impose your philosophy on me, and I won’t try to influence you, either.
“So, Sean, you want to put your stuff up?” I offered. He hadn’t brought a lot, but he was only going to be with us a couple days, so I hadn’t really expected him to have packed a ton.
“Sure,” he said, “sounds good.”
I left my wife to go back to whatever she was doing in the kitchen, and showed Sean to his room. It was kind of freaky for me, as I stood in the doorway. The last time a young man had been the occupant of this room, it had been my son. If I didn’t look at Sean directly, my mind could still see Andrew standing there. It was a wistful and rather weird thing to realize. I shook my head to clear the vision from it.
“Hey, we were thinking of going to Luigi’s tonight. You interested, or do you want some time to yourself?” I wasn’t sure how he’d feel after the drive. It wasn’t that long, but depending on weather, traffic, and road conditions, three hours on the road can beat the hell out of you.
“Yeah, that sounds cool.” He glanced at the clock. “Have I got time to catch a shower?”
“No problem. Make yourself at home. Just come on down when you’re ready.” I stepped in and hugged him once more. “It’s good to see you, as always.” I then went downstairs to see what my wife was doing as we waited for our guest to emerge.
Luigi’s is, as you might have guessed, an Italian restaurant. It’s only a fifteen minute drive from where we live. It was an institution when my folks were first going out. Dad admitted to me once that the first time he kissed Mom was after three slices of sausage and mushroom and a cherry Coke. To be more precise, Mom kissed him. He had a mouthful of pizza and was chewing away, when she suddenly leaned in and planted a quick peck on his lips. They were eighteen at the time, and had been going out for a couple months, but she’d held back anything more than holding hands. Of course, Dad told me he was shocked. He gulped down his half-chewed mouthful of food and looked at her, surprised and delighted. It wasn’t that he was expecting to fly into bed with her or anything, that wasn’t how they did things in their day, and certainly not the kind of thing “good kids” did, anyhow. Just that quick little kiss, though, was the equivalent of her standing up, opening her shirt and exposing her breasts to him. It was the pinnacle of his life to that point. After that, one thing eventually led to another, and after they both graduated college and got married, I came along, as well as my little sister.
Anyhow, if you talked with any number of people from where we lived, you’d find that Luigi’s plays large in a lot of people’s stories.
After a little while, Sean came down, looking much more refreshed. Everybody was ready, so we loaded up and headed for the restaurant.
The evening was great. It was nice to be able to talk with Sean without his mother present. It isn’t that she isn’t a good mom, she just tends to still think of him as her “little boy” and likes to speak for him. It was good to find out what a different person he was without her around. Still good, but just different, when he knew he was going to get to say his piece without interruption.
By the time we left the restaurant, two hours had passed. There’d been a lot of laughing and pleasant conversation, as well as good food. The combination to a majority of fantastic evenings.
Back home, Sean went to his room, citing weariness from his trip. My wife and I gave him one more hug and let him go.
In bed that night, my wife turned to me and said, “Sean’s turned into a really great guy, hasn’t he?”
I said, “Yeah, it’s good to know that it’s still possible to get positive results from a broken home. Aunt Iris has done a good job.”
“But he really turns to you for a lot.” I’d told my wife about a lot of the things Sean had said over the years. Some had remained secrets, but through my descriptions of some of our conversations, I think she knew Sean almost as well as I did. “You’ve helped turn him into who he is. I’m proud of you.”
There were times where it had been easier to deal with Sean’s problems than it had been my own son’s. The distance helped there, I think. Still, I’d managed to make my own boy into a good man, while helping my aunt’s do the same. It was a good feeling.
The next morning was the orientation tour. Sean reiterated the offer for me to come with him. He even invited my wife, but she said, “You go ahead and make it a boys’ day out. I’ll be fine.”
The campus was a little fake taxi porno over a half hour away. Still, it wasn’t a bad drive, and we got there in plenty of time. I’d attended different events at the college over the years, but those were mostly evening affairs, and while there were always students of some kind running around, it wasn’t the same kind of energy as you got when the place was teeming with young life. The last time I’d been there for an orientation was with my own boy. The older I get, the younger the kids on campus look. I thought they’d looked young when I’d last been there with Drew, they looked positively babies now. The one thing I’ve noticed as I’ve gotten older, though, is: I not only appreciate the hot young bodies (mainly women) in these situations, but also their mothers. In fact, I’ve gotten to the point where I appreciate the hot moms as well as I do their daughters. There are occasions where I even deem the moms more attractive than their younger counterparts.
So, anyhow, with all the eye candy running around, this old guy was having a tough time staying focused. I could tell Sean was in the same boat. We just stood there for a while, taking in the view, but eventually, we gathered our wits and headed toward the building where orientation was being held.
The pitch hadn’t changed significantly since I’d gone there, so I didn’t hear a whole lot I found new. Still, we weren’t there for me, so Sean paid close attention. They then teamed us with a student from Sean’s major’s department to show us around. Our guide was a cute redhead named Heather. I could tell Sean was interested. Hell, for that matter, so was I.
Sean’s major wasn’t anything like mine had been, so we were shown a part of the campus I hadn’t spent much time in. I found it interesting, since it was foreign territory. There were times I thought Heather was flirting with Sean, and it appeared he was eating it up, and giving as good as he got. I hoped he wouldn’t lose focus chasing skirts and screw himself up. It wasn’t likely, but you never know how big an impact a woman can have on a man.
When the tour was over, I knew more about my alma mater than I had before, and Sean was excited. I thought he’d swoon when Heather handed him a slip of paper and told him to give her a call if he had any questions, or if he wanted to see anything again. It didn’t take a lot of imagination to figure out one thing he certainly wanted to see again, but I wasn’t going to get into that.
On the way back to the car, I asked, “So, what did you think?”
Sean beamed, “I think I’m going to like it here.”
I threw an arm over his shoulder. “Everybody who’s been here has liked it. It’s a good school. You’ll find relatives’ names on practically every plaque in the place. Sometimes it feels like our family has propped this college up for almost seventy years. I know everybody’s proud of you for choosing to come here.”
“Thanks, Aaron,” he said. Then, his face got more serious. “Aaron, can I talk to you about something?”
The look he had was somewhat concerning. Still, I’d helped him sort out some pretty complicated stuff over the years, so I felt like this would just be another of those times. “Of course. You know you can tell me anything or ask me anything, and I’ll answer you to the best of my ability, and won’t judge you for it. There’s very little you could say to me that would make me think any less of you, so please, go right ahead.”
He hesitated. He seemed a little embarrassed by whatever it was he wanted to tell me. The longer it took, the more concerned I got.
“Can I talk about it in the car? I feel kind of exposed out here right now.” There were people passing by us every few seconds; the college was really buzzing.
We got in the car and Sean said, “Let’s drive. We can talk on the road.”
Without a word, I turned the key and we pulled out of the parking lot.
We traveled for about ten minutes in silence. I wasn’t going to push Sean. He’d talk when he was ready.
“Aaron, I’m a virgin.” He said it so quietly, I wasn’t sure I’d heard it, but he was evidently embarrassed by the admission. We’d talked about sexuality before, but that had been over the phone or in emails. It was obvious it felt different saying it out loud with me right there. I had to admit, it did feel different: More intimate, more exposed.
I wasn’t going to drill him about his reasons for this condition he seemed so sheepish about. It didn’t really matter. His reasons were his own. It was more responsible than a lot of people his age tended to be, if teen pregnancy rates were anything to go by. To be honest, I was proud of him. I’d been a virgin till my mid twenties. It wasn’t really anything to be ashamed about, but I could understand why he didn’t feel like he could talk to just anybody about it. Guys his own age would laugh at him, even if they were virgins themselves. It’s not the kind of thing you talk with your buddies about. You family stroke porno sure as hell couldn’t mention it to a girlfriend, because she’d think you were looking to fix that situation. I knew he couldn’t say anything to his mom about it, because to her, he wasn’t old enough to think about such things. Aunt Iris had become weird over the years. Gordon’s leaving them made her a little wacky.
“Is there anything wrong with that?” I asked.
“I guess not,” he said, not sounding entirely convinced.
A glance over to him told me he had more to add, so I just sat and waited for him to put together how to say it.
“Aaron, I know I like girls. I mean, I like girls a lot.”
There was a “but” in there somewhere, I could tell, so I still just kept my mouth shut and waited for Sean to gather his thoughts.
“There’s a lot of stuff on the internet. A whole fucking lot of it.” I wasn’t going to scold him for his language. My wife wasn’t around, and neither was his mother. I used such language myself. I’m not actually proud of it, but sometimes you open your mouth and words come out. You realize what you’ve said after it’s too late to do anything about it.
“I like watching movies online.” I had an idea what kinds of movies he was talking about. It’s generally the kind of thing I end up watching when I get on the computer, particularly when the wife isn’t around.
“I’ve found out I like watching bisexual porn.” He didn’t sound particularly ashamed about it. In fact, his attitude was more defiant than anything, as if challenging me to call him out on any potential implications there might be to such an admission.
I paused a bit before saying anything. He was looking for some kind of reaction from me, I could tell.
“Do you watch any other kind?” My heart was pounding. This wasn’t the kind of conversation I’d expected to have with him.
Now that he’d said it, he seemed a little braver. “I watch all kinds. All girls, straight, some kinky stuff, but I always keep coming back to bi.”
I noticed that he didn’t mention gay porn. Maybe that was a line with him. Similarly, although I was open minded, I didn’t find myself gravitating to two guys going at it without a woman present, either. I mean, I knew with bi porn that the girl was mostly just a token, that they typically found a couple of gay performers who were willing to throw some pussy in the mix for an additional paycheck, but the fact that Sean didn’t say he watched gay porn seemed a significant omission.
Sean hesitated. “I sometimes wonder what it would be like to have sex with a guy.”
He sounded scared having said it. I could tell he was afraid I was going to fly off the handle and rear my homophobic head.
“But you’ve never had sex with a girl?”
My not picking up the thread he’d left dangling sort of threw him. “Uh, no. I haven’t. I’ve kissed a lot. I felt up a girl’s tits once.” He was back on the defensive, embarrassed about what he’d done, afraid it wasn’t enough for the stage in life he happened to occupy.
“Are you afraid you’re gay?”
“I don’t think so. Like I said, I really like girls.” He waited a bit before adding, “I just wonder, you know?”
“You don’t want to limit your options.” It wasn’t a question. It was the same kind of attitude I tended toward.
Sean was getting more comfortable the longer the conversation went on. We passed the turn-off for home and just kept going.
“Well, no. It’s kind of weird. I mean, I watch the videos and find that I’m not particularly attracted to the guy on the screen, but watching the action go on, I’m more attracted to his cock and balls and what’s going on with those. When I watch the guy-girl stuff, when she’s giving him a blowjob, I imagine myself in both places at the same time, both giving and getting.”
God, this sounded exactly like the thoughts going through my head when I watched porn these days.
“I know exactly what you mean.” I told him.
Sean seemed surprised. Apparently, he hadn’t expected me to say anything like that. He must have thought he was the only one who imagined such things. He certainly hadn’t expected my agreement.
“You do? The forums I’ve been on make it sound like you have to decide, that you have to be either gay or straight, that guys can’t be bi.”
I laughed. It seemed like we’d been traversing the same ground online where sexuality was concerned.
“I know, right? It’s okay for women to be attracted to other women, but if a man shows any interest sexually in another male, he has to be gay. All black and white, no gray. Sounds like homophobic guys making the rules up again, doesn’t it?”
“Exactly!” Sean was getting excited again to find someone who held a view that meshed with his. “I don’t even know if I’d have the balls to try it with another guy if the opportunity arose.”
“But you think you’d like to try it just once, to see if you liked it.”
“Yeah,” he said, “just to see if the fantasy that’s developed in my head matches up.”
“And you can’t find anybody you can experiment with on something like that.”
“No,” Sean admitted. “I mean, all the statistics I’ve seen say that most guys are actually curious, but society’s pressure won’t let them admit it.”
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