A gay adult story: Detention 7 by Michael Booker ,
Plan on several more in this series.
I never felt so uncomfortable and horny at the same time in my life–well, as least not since the day before when I fucked Chris. Jason strode past me, smelling sweet like chocolate, into my dimly-lit living room and gazed around. “You got a nice place,” he said.
“…Thank-you…” I answered awkwardly. I didn’t move from my spot next to the door. Jason sat down on my couch and looked at me.
“You gonna come sit down?” Jason asked. He smiled, a very seductive smile that caused excitement to ripple along my skin. Slowly and nervously, I made my way over to the very opposite end of the couch and sat. I wanted to look at Jason, to stare at his incredibly handsome face: his smooth, flawless skin, the sparkling hazel-colored eyes, and beautiful soft lips. Jason could tell that I was feeling uncomfortable, because he asked, “You sure it’s okay for me to be here? I can go if you don’t want me here or you got somethin’ you gotta do.”
I allowed myself to look at Jason–briefly. It was just unbelievable how goddamn attractive he was. And he was in my house, in my living room, sitting only about two feet away from me on the couch–and this couldn’t be the most worst fuckin time ever. Twenty minutes after Chris forced me to promise him that I wouldn’t fuck Jason, Jason shows up at my door, and I really wanted to just snatch his dick out of his zipper and cram it down my throat. But I couldn’t. I wanted to prove to myself that I could somewhat resist temptation sometimes. “No,” I said, “I don’t want you to leave…I just wasn’t expectin you to be here.”
“I came by hopin you would be here,” Jason said smiling, “and you are.” He had this glow on his face and the radiance of his smile made my heart triple in speed.
“I’m glad you came,” I said. And I was glad that Jason came…glad and surprised, and also confused, nervous and horny. “What did you wanna do?” I asked.
Jason leaned back on the couch. The tail of his shirt rose a little, enough so that I could see the bottom of his ridged, smooth stomach, and the beginning of a thin trail of hair that began below his navel. “Doesn’t matter to me. Is anybody home? Your mother?”
“No. Just you and me.”
“Nice,” Jason said with another one of his brilliant smiles. My dick twitched a little, but I ignored it. For at least tonight, I don’t wanna be a slave to my cock.
“We can watch a movie or somethin,” I suggested.
“Cool with me,” Jason responded, still smiling. Did he know what his smile did to me, how it made me want to lose control? My dick continued to inflate, almost to the point where I knew Jason would be able to see it poking against my jeans, making a tent. I repositioned myself so that he would not be able to see my rising boner. Reaching for the remote control, I switched on the television. “You mind if we turn off the light?” Jason asked. “It’s kinda bright in here. And besides, all movies are better in the dark.”
My heart was beating at quadruple speed at that point. “Yeah. Okay,” I said and turned off the lamp, leaving us alone in darkness, except for the glare of the television.
“Scoot a little closer,” Jason said, grazing my shoulder with his hand. “You’re way on the other side of town.”
Slightly embarrassed and more worried, I moved in closer to Jason. His sweet body scent was filling my nose and making my blood boil. I just wanted to lean over and rip his clothes right off. But I didn’t. Jason and I sat close, close enough for our thighs to be touching, close enough to hear each others’ loud pulses.
We watched “A Streetcar Named Desire” an old black and white movie with Marlon Brando. I hadn’t seen it in a long time, but as I saw it now, it reminded me of Chris. The guy Brando played in the movie was a loud, hostile, brute, but also really good-looking, passionate, and irresistible at the same time. I didn’t notice Jason’s hand caressing my leg. I felt it, only seconds later after I realized that he was touching me. Jason’s touch was a lot more different than Chris’. Chris was more forceful, aggressive, and powerful–while Jason’s touch was gentle, tender, but still very, very effective. Jason continued to move his hand up and down my leg, moving up slowly toward my crotch area. My mind wanted me to tell Jason to stop touching me, but I really didn’t want him to. I liked the way Jason touched me, as if I was something important that deserved care and respect. Even though I liked the way Chris touched me, Chris didn’t seem to have that same attitude when it came to me; to Chris, it seemed like I was just something he could have whenever he wanted, something he liked–but not something that was really, really important to him.
Jason squeezed my crotch a few times and found that my dick was super hard now. He chuckled a little, and then he asked me, “Is this okay? You want me to stop?”
In the four or so years that I had been fuckin guys, none of them, Chris included, had ever asked me if it was okay to touch me. Most just assumed it was okay, or didn’t give a fuck whether it was okay or not. And while I liked aggression, I also liked a little bit of non-aggression sometimes. Jason was scoring many points with me, points I wish he had scored two weeks ago before I began fucking Chris. And even though I wanted Jason to continue, I told him, “Yeah, it’s okay…but let’s just watch the movie right now.”
Jason’s gazed at me, and his hazel eyes glittered from the light coming from the screen. “That’s cool,” he said. It took a few seconds for our eyes to disconnect from each other.
We continued to watch the movie, but every so often I felt Jason’s eyes on me, and from the corner of my eye I could see him watching me. Yet everytime I turned to look at him, he would look at the screen, as though he were afraid of what would happen if our eyes met. Well, I was afraid of what would happen if our eyes connected–or any other parts of our bodies. I knew it wouldn’t be long before the inevitable happened; we could delay it, pretend to be engrossed in a movie I’ve seen many times, but I really wanted to be engrossed in Jason. I felt guilty, and I hated feeling guilty and I hated feeling restricted by a promise to Chris that I didn’t want to make in the first place. Chris’ face came up in my mind, and I wondered what he was doing while I was sitting in the dark with a tight-looking boy that I wanted to bone.
I was so lost in my thoughts that when I saw the credits roll down the TV screen, I didn’t realize the movie was over. “What do you wanna do now?” Jason asked.
I wanted to fuck, but I had to remember self-control. “What time is it?” I asked.
Jason checked his watch. “Like ten-thirty or so. Still kinda early.”
“What do you wanna do?” I asked back. My heart was beginning to beat fast. I’m sure if Jason listened carefully he could’ve heard it. He leaned in close, placed a hand on my waist, and drew me close to his face. Jason’s breath felt nice and warm against my chin. I closed my eyes gently, swallowing hard, my heart almost ready to explode because it was beating so fuckin hard, and I opened my mouth a little. Our lips brushed up against each other lightly, like a feather passing over my mouth, and it sent a nice chill down my spine. Jason took both of his warm hands and placed them gently on each side of my face. I exhaled, releasing all the stress and anxiety that I had been building up since he showed up at the front door. I waited patiently and impatiently at the same time for Jason to kiss me. I was nearly panting like a dog and my dick was as solid as it could be. For a moment, I thought about Chris, and I thought about how I was doing something he asked me not to do, but something I’m sure he was expecting me to do. Again I felt guilty, not guilty for what I was doing–or what I was about to do–but guilty because I really wasn’t guilty for doing what I was doing with Jason.