The Measure of Man

An Epic Adventure by Gil Gamesh

Chapter Twenty


"As for you, Gilgamesh, fill your belly with good things; day and night, night and day, dance and be merry, feast and rejoice. Let your clothes be fresh, bathe yourself in water, cherish the little child that holds your hand, and make your wife happy in your embrace; for this too is the measure of man."

CAST OF CHARACTERS:
Kieran Stuart, 38 in story, 19 in flashback; Siobhan Stuart, 37 in story;
Kavan Stuart, 11; Arial Stuart, 10; Kerry Stuart, 6

David _____, 22 in flashback

TELLING THE STORY:
Kieran Stuart

(KIERAN)

On Saturday, the dog days of August were bearing down with high temperatures and cloying humidity. The kids protested when I closed up the house and turned on the air conditioning. The humidity was just too oppressive to do anything.

We were all lounging around in the house in the nude as usual, doing nothing in particular, when the kids ganged up on me. They decided they wanted to do something outdoors. They begged me to take them to the creek down the hill behind the house and let them play in the water and dig in the sand.

I tried to convince them to settle for an afternoon swim in our pool. They knew they could swim in the nude in our sheltered pool and I suppose they thought they could do the same thing in the creek. When I told them they’d have to wear bathing suits because other people might be down there that didn’t deter them.

Siobhan had finally agreed that Kavan and Arial could watch out for Kerry at the creek occasionally but she didn’t want them getting in the water without supervision. The creek was shallow and not dangerous except in a few deeper pools. Kavan was good about watching out for snakes and poison ivy but Kerry in the water was just too much responsibility for him.

I finally agreed, partly to make them stop begging and partly because I wanted to play in the creek with them. Siobhan said she wanted to finish sewing some new kitchen curtains. She suggested we should all wear denim shorts and our oldest sneakers instead of bathing suits if we were going to dig. The kids ran for their rooms to change. I watched Kerry’s butt as he went through a new routine of skip, hop, and bounce, and then went to our bedroom for my shorts and sneakers.

When I came back in the family room, Kavan and Kerry were already there in their shorts and Kerry was sitting on the floor, struggling to get his sneakers on without untying them. I took them away, picked the knots apart for about the millionth time, and helped him put them on. A few minutes later, Arial came back in shorts and sneakers – and little budding breasts.

I’d been aware for some time that she was beginning to show a few signs of devel0pment. She didn’t have any noticeable pubic hair yet but her breasts had begun to swell just a little and the nipples were a little larger. She almost killed Kavan when he called them bee-stings but then she started calling them the same thing.

I guess I’d have taken the three of them as they were but Siobhan didn’t approve. She told Arial she had to wear something on top.

“Mom, that’s not fair!” Arial protested.

“I know,” Siobhan said. “Life’s not fair to women.”

“But Kavan and Kerry don’t have to wear tops. Why do I have to?”

“Because you’re starting to develop breasts and some people think women shouldn’t show their breasts in public.”

“Aw, come on, Siobhan,” I intervened. “There’s nothing wrong with letting her go like the boys.”

“Yeah, Mom,” Kerry said, “let her go like us.”

I looked at Kavan and he was nodding enthusiastically.

She took a deep sigh of resignation. It was four to one.

“Well, would you at least take a shirt for her? If you see anybody down there, make her put it on.”

I looked at Arial and she smiled. It was a satisfactory compromise.

We spent an enjoyable hour or so playing in the shallow water, digging in the sand bars, and even smearing mud all over each other. Finally, I sat down in the creek while they tried to get the mud and sand off my back and out of my hair. Then I helped them get most of it off themselves too. It was fun trying to turn dirty savages back into clean little angels.

When we got back to the house, I led the troupe into the basement shower area and we all stripped. I collected sneakers and tried to beat most of the sand and mud off. Arial collected shorts and put them in a basket. Kavan got the bench so we could all shampoo.

Kerry went over to the shower drain and proceeded to pee down it. As usual, Arial pronounced it “Gross,” so, of course, Kavan had to do it too. She watched him and then shook her head.

“Boys! You’re all alike! You might as well do it to, Dad.”

“Have you got to go, Princess?” I asked.

“Yes, and I’m going to do it too,” she announced with her most regal bearing.

I’d seen her sit and pee for years but this was a new one. She straddled the drain, squatted, and proceeded to pee. She still looked like a little angel when she did it.

“OK, Dad, your turn,” Kavan said. He was standing there still with his hand cupped under his testicles, looking for hair. Since he’d found the first fine red hairs down there, he was always looking for more.

“Yeah, Dad, you do it too,” Kerry said. He was standing there flipping his little dick up and down and grinning at me.

I did it too. They’d seen me pee lots of times but I hadn’t peed down the drain before. They were a good audience as usual. Arial paid particular attention and didn’t even call me gross. I flipped my dick up and down a few times like Kerry and she giggled at that.

We all rinsed off under the shower and I rubbed their hair to try to get most of the sand out of it. Kavan and Arial could finally do a decent job of shampooing but I decided to give them a treat. I lined all three of them up on the bench and then washed their hair. Kavan and Kerry had their usual summer buzz-cut so theirs was no problem. Arial’s was cropped shorter than usual but hers was so fine it took a little longer. They insisted on returning the favor for me. After a minute of so I knew why some fathers get bald.

Kavan and Arial bathed themselves but I still had to do Kerry if I wanted him really clean. I sat on the bench with my knees apart with Kerry between them and scrubbed him until he was pink and glowing. He got his usual boner when I pulled his foreskin back and washed his dick. When I tried to wash the crack of his ass, he started giggling and dancing. I finally grabbed him, pulled him against my chest, reached around with the cloth, and scrubbed his butt until it was pink too. He giggled even after I stopped.

Siobhan came down the stairs from the kitchen with towels for us. She sat on the steps and watched while I washed myself and the kids played. I scrubbed underneath my foreskin too, deliberately doing it while she watched. I raised my eyebrows to ask her. She nodded once as an answer.

Siobhan helped Arial get dry while I helped Kerry. Kavan was his usual independent I-can-do-it-myself boy and didn’t want any help. When I bathed with them, Siobhan usually took them upstairs to inspect them and comb their hair while I cleaned up the mess. Arial and Kerry ran up the steps this time but Kavan held back.

“Dad, can I talk to you?” he asked.

I sat down on the bench and he sat down beside me. I looked at him without saying anything.

“Yeah, I know, may I talk to you?”

“Sure, Son, what did you want to talk about? Something you didn’t want Arial to hear?”

“Yeah, I guess so. It’s something I don’t understand and I don’t guess girls would either.”

“What?”

“It’s about guys doing stuff with guys, you know, queers. Some of the guys at school are always calling other guys fags. That’s guys who like other guys instead of girls, isn’t it? They fuck each other in the ass.”

“Yeah, that’s one of the things they do. They perform oral sex on each other too.”

“That’s why they’re called cock-suckers, isn’t it? ‘Cause they suck each other’s dicks.”

“I suppose so. I hope you don’t call anybody that. I’ve tried to teach you never to call people names that hurt them.”

“I don’t, Dad. I don’t use bad words about people from different races and religions. I understand that. It’s just the bad names when it comes to sex that I don’t understand.”

“Give me an example, Son.”

“Well, if a girl sucks a guy’s dick, that’s OK, and he’ll call her a sweetheart and talk like he loves her. If a guy sucks his dick, he’ll call him a cocksucker and treat him like shit and act like he hates him. Why do some guys hate queers so much?”

I suppose I didn’t really know the answer to that. I didn’t want to get into another discussion of religion and how ridiculous some of its teachings were. The last time I’d talked with him about masturbation, he’d asked me then why most guys were ashamed of jacking off. He was getting more and more interested in it and, from what he said, was doing it regularly. I always gave him the same advice – to enjoy it as something perfectly natural. I knew he couldn’t really understand how natural since he hadn’t yet been subjected to the surge of testosterone he was going to have very soon. I thought of something we’d seen on television a few days earlier.

“Do you remember the TV program we saw on the nature channel a few days ago, the one about the bighorn sheep?” I asked.

“You mean the one where they butted heads to see who got to mate with the females?”

“Yeah, that’s the one. Maybe some guys do that to hurt other guys, to make females think they’re queers and not worth mating with.”

“You mean it might be inst… instinc…”

“Instinctual,” I butted in.

“Yeah, instinctual for guys to act that way, like rams?”

“Maybe,” I said. “In a lot of animals males try to exert dominance over other males. The dominant male gets to mate with lots of females, maybe all the mature ones in his pack. What do you think?”

“Well, do human beings have instincts like that? Am I going to have to be a dominant male if I want to get any pussy when I get older?”

“No, Son. I don’t think so. We don’t have a harem of females to mate with. You might think you want to sometimes but, believe me, one female is enough.”

“Yeah, I guess so. One Mom’s enough too.”

“I’m not saying that’s the only reason why some people hate homosexuals, Kavan,” I said. “Hatred’s pretty complex behavior and I suppose nobody completely understands it. I do know one thing though: you shouldn’t hate somebody just because they’re different. Your mother and I have always tried to make sure you kids know how much we love you. How would you feel if I said I hated you?”

He looked at me with a face as serious as any I’d ever seen.

“You wouldn’t do that, would you, Dad?” he asked.

“No, Son, I wouldn’t. You know I love you, don’t you?”

“Yeah, you and Mom are always telling us how much you love us, but I know it anyway.”

“But just try to think how much better you feel knowing I love you and how it would hurt if I said I hated you. Don’t ever try to hurt people by doing hateful things to them, Kavan. You’ll be a better man if you can avoid that sort of behavior.”

“Aw, shit, Dad, I just want to be like you,” he said.

“Why are you concerned about homosexuality, Son?” I asked. “Have you been doing something with some of your friends?”

“Naah, Dad, nothing like that. I guess I just couldn’t understand why some guys call other people fags and queers so much. One guy calls me a fag and I don’t see why. I already know I’d rather fuck around with girls instead of guys.”

“Have you already started having hard-ons a lot? When you look at a cute girl and think about doing something with her, do you get a woody?”

“Yeah, sometimes. Course, I get a woody lots of times when I’m not thinking about anything. My dick just gets stiff by itself, like now, see.”

He moved his arms away from his legs and uncovered a very nice hard-on. It looked like a good four or five inch stiffie already.

“That’s normal, Son. It’s going to get worse. Just don’t worry about it. When you get a chance, just jack off. It’ll give you a little relief.”

“I don’t understand why it’s that way, Dad. I can’t even come yet.”

“What do you mean? Do you mean you can’t ejaculate or you can’t have an orgasm? I thought you said you were having pretty good orgasms the last time we talked.”

He held his dick with his thumb and one finger and slid the skin up and down a couple of times while we both watched.

“I am. I just do what you told me, get some baby oil and do it nice and slow. I can have a good orgasm but nothing comes out.”

“Don’t worry about it, Son. It won’t be long. If you’re like me, you’ll start out squirting a little clear stuff and then it’ll gradually get whiter as more sperm are produced by your balls.”

“Sometimes, when I jack off, I think about watching Luke and Rachael doing it when we were at the cabin. I imagine I’m Luke and think about having my dick in Rachael. Is that OK?”

“Sure, Son, it’s OK to fantasize about that sort of thing. We all do it, boys and girls. Sometimes I think about doing it with her when I jack off too.”

He giggled. “Yeah, but you know what it’s really like. I don’t.”

“I didn’t know what it was like to do it with a woman when I was your age, Kavan.”

“Did you jack off a lot when you were a kid, Dad?”

“Yep. My Dad told me and your uncle Alan that it was a normal thing to do, just like I’m telling you. When Alan started jacking off, I didn’t understand why he did it so much. A few years later, I was jacking off more than he did.”

“And you still do it sometimes? Does Mom know?”

“Yeah, I still do it. Sometimes when your Mom’s got her period or when she doesn’t feel well, I’ll do it. Sometimes I do it just because I want to. She knows I do. Sometimes she watches me do it. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“I think I’ll go to my room and do it,” he said.

I suppose I’d answered his questions even though I wasn’t completely sure what he was concerned about. He stood up and started toward the stairs. I looked him over, from tousled red hair, skinny hard body, proud woody pointing upward, and sturdy long legs. He was a beautiful perfect boy and I was glad he was my son.

“Kavan,” I called.

He turned and looked at me.

“I’ll never hate you, Son. I’ll always love you. No matter what.”

He gave me a big grin and his face lit up. “Thanks, Dad,” he said.

“Would you take the towels up to the laundry room, please?” I asked. “I’ll get all the dirty clothes.”

<><><>

After the kids were in bed and the house had been rescued from chaos again, I went in the living room, turned on my favorite station, and switched the speakers to send the music to our bedroom. When I went in there, Siobhan was just inside the bathroom door, fresh out of the shower, drying her hair.

I closed the drapes, turned on the overhead fan, and lay down on the bed where I could watch her. Even after fourteen years of marriage, it was a scene I never tired of seeing. She held the blow dryer in one hand, her hairbrush in the other, and kept lifting that glorious red hair. With her arms up like that, her breasts were lifted too and even the slight sag the kids and years had given them was gone. Her strawberry nipples in the mirror looked soft and a darker red than the aureole. She was turned slightly away from me and I could see her beautiful woman’s butt, maybe wider now, but still tight and flawless. I felt like a little boy - looking at something secret and getting a stiffie. I was lying on my side with my head propped on one hand. My dick wasn’t quite hard yet but it was swollen to the stage just before it stood up.

"Kavan and I had a good talk downstairs after we showered,” I called out to her.

She turned and looked at me. “Is that for me?”

“Yes, if you’d like to have it.”

“Kavan had a nice one when he came up the stairs,” she said, walking into the bedroom. “What were you two talking about?”

“He wanted to know why some boys accuse others of being fags. He used the term queers too. I don’t use those words in talking with him. I wish he wouldn’t pick them up at school.”

“Did you give him honest answers?”

“Yes. I always try to. He was more concerned about why some guys hate queers than about the sex activities of gays. He knows what they do with each other. I told him about the sex acts the first time he asked me. I guess I never thought to try to teach him anything about society’s hatred for gays. I don’t know if my answer was any good but I tried to make sure he didn’t start hating them.”

She sat down on the side of the bed and started brushing her hair again.

“That’s good. What gave him the hard-on? He was cute when he came in the kitchen with the arm-load of towels and that boner pointing at the ceiling?”

“Who knows? He’s got about a dozen red hairs around his dick now. He’s already starting to become a man. We talked about masturbation again and I told him the same thing I always do. He says he’s having good orgasms when he jacks off but he doesn’t shoot off yet.”

I reached over and, with one finger, traced the curve under her breast up to her nipple. She smiled at me.

“Were you like that,” she asked, “jacking off and having orgasms before your testosterone really kicked in?”

She reached over and ran one finger over the side of my scrotum and down the length of my dick. I felt an instant surge into it.

“Yeah, I’ve told you how I was. Boys love to play with their dicks as soon as they realize they’ve got one. I used to watch Alan jack off and squirt out on his stomach. I’d try to do it and get so damn frustrated because I couldn’t do it too. I could have pretty good orgasms but I was about twelve before I ever got a drop out when I came.”

“What does he think about guys having sex with other guys? Is he curious about it?”

“I don’t think so. He said he fantasizes about having sex with Rachael sometimes when he jacks off.”

“I guess it’s a good thing he didn’t see what you and Luke did with each other. Do you think he’d fantasize about having sex with Luke?”

“Shit, Siobhan, don’t kid me about that. You and Rachael are the ones who made us do it. Luke and I weren’t the ones who started that.”

“No, but you enjoyed it, didn’t you?”

She put her hairbrush down on the nightstand and pulled back the sheet on her side of the bed. I got up, pulled down the sheet on my side, and we both got in bed. I lay down on my back and she moved over close to me, on her side, and threw one leg over mine.

“I told you I did. I think Luke did too. That doesn’t mean we want to do it with each other anymore.”

"Did you ever have sex with a man before Luke? I don't mean just playing around with other boys when you were little. I want to know if you've ever really done it with another man after you were grown, after you’d already had sex with a woman."

"Are you sure you want to hear about it?" I asked. "I’ll probably lie about it. You’ll never know if it really happened. If I tell you, you may learn things about me that you'll wish you didn't know."

"I want to hear it, Kieran. I want you to tell it down to the last little juicy detail, just like you did when you told me about having sex for the first time with a woman."

She slid her hand over my chest, down over my stomach, and let it come to rest just short of my dick.

“What do I get if I tell you?” I asked.

“Whatever you want, as long as it’s what I want.”

She tugged gently at the hair just below my navel.

"His name was David," I began...

<><><>

I met David during my freshman year in college. I usually went to the track and ran two or three times a week, for exercise and to get rid of stress. On one occasion, he was there for the same reasons and we ran together. We got to know each other and became friends. At first we just ran together but gradually we started doing other things together, like movies and college events. He had a girl friend and sometimes she went out with us. She wouldn't go running with us however.

He was a senior, in a different major, so we never had classes together. We were alike in build, both slim and tall, like most runners. Our personalities were a lot alike and we seemed to like a great many of the same things.

We had been running on a Saturday afternoon, an unusually warm spring day. I suppose we were both enjoying the warmth and sun and just being alive after a cold winter. We probably ran for close to six or seven miles before we quit, twice around the running path behind the gym.

We were sitting on a bench cooling down when David suggested we get a six-pack of beer and a pizza and take them back to his apartment. I was living in a college dorm and had never been to his apartment. He had told me where he lived, in a small apartment over a store that backed up to the river, and he had invited me to stop by more than once. We drove to his apartment in his little wreck of a foreign car and stopped on the way for the pizza and beer.

We both pulled off our shoes and socks as soon as we were inside his apartment and put our feet up while we opened the first of the beer. He wiggled his toes and feet around and relaxed.

“One of us stinks,” he said.

“It’s you,” I lied. “I haven’t been sweating.” Everything I had on was wet.

"Would it be OK with you if I took my shirt and shorts off?" he asked. "I think I'm a closet nudist. I like to go without any clothes when I'm here in my apartment."

“Yeah, I would too, but I’ve got to wear these back to the dorm,” I said.

“Shit, don’t let that stop you. I’ll lend you some shorts and a shirt. You can get a shower here if you want to.”

He stood and pulled his shirt over his head and, almost in the same motion, stripped off his shorts. I followed his example and we stood, looking at each other.

We were very similar in some ways. We were both tall and slim but I was fair and blond with relatively little body hair and he was the opposite. His hair was dark, almost black, short and neatly trimmed. On his chest, black hair started near his throat and spread outward over his chest toward his nipples. It stopped before it reached his navel and reappeared in a black explosion where it spread out over the base of his stomach and between his thighs. His dick was long and slim, no larger than normal, but it looked strange, so white in the midst of all the black hair. It was also half-hard, hanging down and distended like mine from the heat and our exercise. I knew my testicles were hanging low, as they always did when I was warm and sweaty from running. His balls were drawn up so that half his cock dangled below them. His cock was like mine, uncircumcised.

"Would you like to stay here, tonight, with me?"

I had just taken a swallow of beer when he said that. I almost choked but I managed to swallow. I waited for a minute, wondering whether I had understood what he was saying.

"Are you asking me to sleep here? Are you suggesting more than that?"

"I thought we might get around to sleeping sometime tonight. There are some other things I'd like to do first."

"Look, David," I answered, "we're good friends and I want to be honest with you. I'm not a virgin. I've had sex with one woman, older than me, and with a few girls about my own age. With one exception, I've never done anything with guys."

"Have you ever thought about it? Ever wondered what it would be like?" he asked.

"Sure, I'll admit to that. But I've spent my life around a man and woman who love each other and never try to hide it. My mother and father have a very loving marriage. Someday, I’ll find me a woman and try to have that same sort of relationship.”

“What was it like when you were a kid?” he asked. “Tell me a little about it.”

“Well, when I was very little, I remember crawling in with them once when they were in bed and naked together. They laughed when I took my pajamas off and begged them to let me sleep with them. I remember walking in on them lots of times when they were hugging each other with their hands on each other’s butt. As I got older, my father talked to me honestly and I learned what they did together in bed. My mother's attitude was that it was the most natural thing in the world for a man and a woman to love each other and nothing to be ashamed about.”

“What was it like the first time you ever did it?”

“Just before I was sixteen an older woman taught me what sex could be like between a man and woman. That afternoon we did just about everything I’d been fantasizing about. I came four times and still wanted more. She wasn’t ashamed to do it with me and she made sure I wasn’t either.”

"I envy you that," he said. "My parents tried to teach me that sex of any kind was something to be ashamed of. I don't know how they managed to bring me and my brother into the world."

"I sometimes think I could fuck every woman on earth and never get enough of them. Since I came to college, I haven't managed to do more than just get a quick feel or two from any of them. I get a hard-on or two every day from looking at tits and ass on campus."

"I can understand that," David said. "I've been trying to talk Sarah into giving in for months. We've talked about getting married when I graduate. She still can't make up her mind. I guess I'm about as hard up for pussy right now as you are."

“Well, do what I do. Ask your right hand for a date. It won’t turn you down.”

“Yeah, I know but right now I’m asking you. Do you want to take a shower with me?”

I sat and looked at him for a minute or so. I’d had two beers and I was loose and relaxed. A good shower was just what I needed. I didn’t know what else I was getting into but I decided to find out.

“Oh, fuck, let’s do it,” I said.

He adjusted the water in the shower to a soft warm spray and then motioned for me to get in. When I did, he turned the bathroom light out before he got in and pulled the shower curtain closed. The room was almost dark, dimly lit by the light coming in from the street.

He put his hands on my shoulders and gently pushed me under the shower spray. I leaned forward with my forearms against the wall, hanging onto the shower pipe above, letting the water run over my face, wondering what he was doing behind me. When I felt the soapy cloth on my back, I closed my eyes and let him rub my shoulders. He stopped at my waist and turned me around. He scrubbed my arms and then my chest, again stopping at my waist. When he brought the cloth to my face, I closed my eyes again. The way he washed my face, slowly and gently, was probably the one thing that caused me to make up my mind. I still kept my eyes closed when he poured shampoo on my head, washed my hair, and then pushed me under the shower to wash all the soap away.

I wiped the water out of my face and looked at him. He was smiling like he knew what I had decided.

"Turn around again now and let me wash the lower half," he said.

This time, he knelt behind me and started with my feet, pulling to get me to lift first one and then the other. Gradually he moved upward, scrubbing my legs, finally reaching my ass. I let him wash me and tried to relax even when I felt the soapy cloth on one buttock and his hand on the other. When he turned me around, I watched while he washed the front of my legs, gradually moving upwards. He held my cock with one hand, pulled the foreskin back, and scrubbed the head with the soapy cloth. I felt an immediate reaction. He dropped the cloth, stood up, and held me with both hands, my balls with one hand and my cock with the other. We both watched while it came to full erection in his hand.

I pushed him away and stooped to pick up the washcloth. I followed his example and took my time in scrubbing him all over. When I took his cock in my hand it was semi-tumescent but as I stroked it with the soapy cloth it quickly became erect. The head of his cock was just an inch or so from mine.

We both stood looking down. I was comparing our cocks and I suppose he was too. He stepped closer to me and brought his against mine.

"That's some cock you've got," he said.

I reached down and held them together with both hands. I slid my soapy hands back and forth, slowly masturbating both of us at once.

"I think we'd better get out of the shower," he said.

When we came out of the bathroom, the moon was just coming up over the river, almost full, filling the large living room with soft light.

"Come, help me," David said. "I want to move the mattress off my bed and bring it in here."

“Why?” I asked.

“Because it’ll be cooler in here on the floor. The bedroom doesn’t have good cross ventilation. I sleep in here on the couch lots of times when it’s hot.”

He led the way into the small bedroom. Together we moved the mattress off the bed, carried it into the living room, and laid it on the floor next to the couch. He went to the bathroom and returned with our damp towels. He dropped them beside the bed and then lay down on his stomach, his hard cock pressed against the mattress.

"Lie down here, on your stomach like this," he said, smiling at me. "I'm going to show you something that I learned from an English prof here. It's just one of the things I learned from him."

I didn’t know what he meant and I certainly didn’t know that I wanted him or anyone else to get at me from behind. I was curious about what it would be like and whether I would like it if he did. Maybe he sensed my apprehension.

"Relax," he said. "I'm going to give you a rub-down, a massage, using nothing but my hands and a little baby oil. You can tell me to stop any time and I won't try to get you to do anything you really can't handle."

I stretched out on the mattress with my head toward the window, the moonlight pouring in directly on me. David knelt beside me and started on my shoulders. He alternated between deep pressing on the underlying muscles and soft stroking on the skin. In a few minutes, I surrendered to the touch of his hands.

Then he moved, straddling my body, and I felt his balls against my ass and the hard length of his cock hot against me. I started to pull away but he put his hands on my waist and gently pushed me back down. When I relaxed again, he resumed his massage, pressing hard, sliding his hands from my waist to my shoulders again and again. After a few minutes, he reversed his position, straddling my hips again and facing my feet. He covered his hands with oil again and rubbed the muscles of my legs. I could feel the tension draining away and, damn, it did feel good.

He slid back toward my shoulders, straddling the middle of my chest this time, rubbing my buttocks. He stopped for a few seconds to put more oil on his hands and then resumed. His fingers were moving ever closer and closer to where I wasn’t sure I wanted them, brushing lightly into the crack. Finally, he reached down between my legs with one hand and pressed with the fingertips against the area just behind my testicles. I spread my legs apart to give him easier access. He slid his hand up, probed deeper into my crack, and teased my asshole with one finger. At first I tensed again but then I realized that his touch felt good and that I was enjoying what he was doing. I suppose he realized that I was giving in to him. He slid just the tip of his index finger into my asshole and held it there.

"Tell me, honestly, does that feel good?" he whispered.

"Do you mean the massage or what you're doing now?" I grunted.

"I mean both," he said. "Your ass is just as capable of feeling pleasure as the skin on your back."

"The massage felt great. I’m not sure about what you're doing with your finger."

He removed his hand and reached out beside the mattress for something.

"Trust me, Kieran," he said. "I'm not going to turn you in to a raging queer. Just try to enjoy what we can do with each other. I think it’ll be something you won’t soon forget."

With my head turned to one side, I watched as he squeezed something from a tube onto his finger. I waited while he reached back to my ass. He rubbed the lubricant around my asshole and gradually began to stick his finger in me again. I knew what he was doing. Even though I had decided to have sex with him, I wasn’t sure whether I could let him stick his dick in me. As his finger slid in and out, I felt my sphincter muscles relax and I gave in more and more to how good it felt.

"Turn over," he said, and stood up. I rolled over on my back and my dick stood up at an angle over my stomach. He didn’t seem to notice. He straddled me again, sat back down, and my dick was pressed between my stomach and his ass, with the head poking out just under his balls. His dick was pointed straight at my face.

He wiped his hands on a towel and then coated them with oil again. He started on my shoulders, moved on to my chest, and then down to my stomach. He stopped and looked at me for a minute. I nodded. He moved backwards on my legs and uncovered my cock and balls. He squirted oil on the head of my cock, stroked up and down on the shaft a few times, and finally rubbed oil all over my balls. I closed my eyes and surrendered. I would have let him do anything he wanted to me. I think he knew it. He rolled off me and lay down beside me.

All he wanted was his turn at being massaged. I did my best to return the favor, giving him the same sort of slow massage he had given me. I doubt if I did it half as well as he did.

When I stopped, he stood up, spread one of the damp towels on the couch, and looked at me.

"Sit on the couch," he said. "Lean back and close your eyes and be comfortable."

I did as he said. He moved in front of me, pushed my knees apart, and knelt between my legs. He took my cock in one hand, wiped the oil off with a towel, and I knew what he was going to do. When I felt his mouth on the head of my cock, I froze, scarcely able to breathe.

A man gradually comes to know, no pun intended, his own cock like no woman ever can. He knows what to do with it and how to stroke it, when to go slow and when to go fast. David certainly knew what to do with my cock and he did it very well.

<><><>

I stopped with my story for a minute, wondering whether to go on with the next part. Siobhan stopped playing with my cock and looked up at me.

"Well, are you going to finish?" she asked. "You can't stop yet. This is fascinating."

"I'm not sure whether I should tell you the rest. It might change the way you feel about me."

"How do you mean?"

"You know how most men feel about sex between men, especially oral sex. One of the worst names one man can call another is a cocksucker. Most men like to have it done to them. They feel its O.K. for a woman to do it, but if another man does it, especially if he likes to do it, they have nothing but scorn for the cocksucker."

"But we both like oral sex, Kieran,” she said. “I love old-fashioned missionary-position fucking, when you've got your cock working in my cunt like a piston. But oral sex is great too. I love to feel your mouth on me. Your tongue on my clit can give me great orgasms."

"Yeah, but how do you feel about my mouth and tongue being on another man's cock?"

"I've had my mouth on yours more times that I can count. You love it and you know you do. I like it too. It gets me all hot and wet to feel the head of your cock in my mouth and my hands on the shaft and on your balls. I'm not ashamed of it in the least. You never hesitate to kiss me even after I've been sucking your cock."

"OK, then, I'll tell you the rest of it, down to the last little detail, just like you asked me.

She put her hand back on my dick and rubbed one finger around on the head, smearing the drool all over it.

<><><>

What David did with his mouth and hands was just too much. After a minute or so, I knew I was on the edge of coming, at that point where my mind whispered for me to slow down, to prolong the pleasure, and my body yelled for release. At the last split-second, I pushed him away.

"Damn, David, you've got to stop," I said. "You're going to make me come if you keep that up."

He stood up and looked down at me with a knowing smile on his face. He was standing just back from the edge of the couch, between my spread legs. His cock was rigid standing up at an angle.

He stepped forward, just to the edge of the couch, still between my legs. He wiped his cock off with a towel and then held it down, stoking it slowly, pointing it directly at my face. He didn't say a word. I knew what he wanted.

I moved forward, still sitting on the couch, until my mouth was only inches away from the head of his cock. He put both his hands on my shoulders and waited.

I put one hand on the shaft of his cock, pulled it back downward into a horizontal position, and slid the other hand up his leg to his balls. As I looked at the head of his cock, I saw that he was reacting the same way I always did with prolonged sexual arousal. At the opening on the end that was a clear drop hanging.

I leaned forward and licked the single drop away. I felt him shudder, just like I sometimes did after a long-delayed piss, and then I leaned forward again and took the head of his cock in my mouth.

I held the shaft of his cock with one hand, his balls with the other, and slid my lips up and down on just the last inch of so of his cock. I remembered the first time my cock had been sucked, one summer afternoon, and how she seemed to enjoy what she did. She had taken me hungrily, using her tongue and teeth and lips, almost sucking the marrow out of my bones. I tried to do the same things to David. Within a couple of minutes he was moaning with pleasure. He stopped me, as I had stopped him, just short of the point of no return.

“Do you want me to fuck you,” he asked, “or do you want to fuck me?”

“No, yeah, shit, I don’t know. What do you want me to do?” I said. I really didn’t know what I wanted but I was too damn hot to tell him to stop.

“Get down on your knees and lean over the couch,” he whispered. “I want to fuck you first. Then you can fuck me.”

I knelt facing the couch, leaned over with my arms on the cushions, and cradled my head on my forearms. When I spread my knees apart, he moved behind me and put one hand palm-down on my back. With the other hand, he probed into the crack of my ass and slowly pushed his finger in and out. I waited, almost holding my breath.

When he moved closer, I had one moment of hesitation, one last bit of fear about what was about to happen. I felt just the head of his cock push against me gently for a moment and then the pressure was removed. He rubbed it up and down and then pushed again. I tried to relax, to let the muscles go slack, to accept his cock, and as I did I felt the head slide into me easily, without any pain.

He began to slide it in and out, slowly, hardly moving, holding me by both hips. My eyes were closed and I was conscious of almost nothing except the feel of his hard cock sliding in and out of my ass. Gradually, I felt him penetrate deeper and deeper, with the head of his cock pressing against something inside me that made my cock respond with each push. He continued his slow, gentle movements for a few minutes until his legs were pressed against the back of my thighs and his cock was buried to the hilt inside me.

There have been occasions in my life when I've wondered how anybody allowed them self to get into such a situation. How many times had I heard sneering remarks about guys who let someone fuck them like this?

But the simple fact was - it felt good. I had a hard-on that was filled to bursting. I felt a red heat inside my head and sweat trickled down my face and body. I was as hot for fucking, even being fucked, as I’ve ever been.

He surprised me when he withdrew; he hadn’t come yet.

He quickly changed his position, stretched out on the mattress in a semi-reclining position, and leaned back against the couch.

"Get on top of me," he said. "I want to show you a trick my mentor, my English professor, showed me when he introduced me to this sort of fun."

I straddled his stomach, facing him with my knees on each side of him and my legs bent back alongside him. I slid my hands over his stomach and chest. He was as slippery with oil and sweat and as hot as I was.

"Lock your hands together behind my neck," he whispered and I did.

He reached under me with one hand and held his cock upright. With the other he pushed me back until I felt the head of his cock pushing against my asshole again.

I pressed down, moving from side to side a little, and his cock slid easily into my ass again. I continued with slow up and down movements, taking in more and more of it. I felt like I was stretched to the limit and I knew most of it was inside me. Within a minute or so, I was dripping sweat, as hot outside as inside.

He bent forward and curved his hands around behind my back. I wondered what he was trying to do. When he took the head of my cock in his mouth, I was amazed. In my wildest fantasy, I had never imagined anything like this. I understood why he wanted my hands behind his neck, to help him to bend so far forward and to hold the position. I began to move up and down on him again, feeling his hard cock moving in and out of my ass and my own hard cock sliding in and out of his mouth.

I suppose I got carried away and began to use him solely for my own pleasure, pulling down on his head, forcing my cock into his mouth, and at the same time, forcing his cock deeper into my ass. I knew I was damn close to coming and I knew I wasn’t going to tell him.

Suddenly I felt him tense beneath me. He tried as best he could to thrust his cock upward into me. I pushed down, taking it as deep into me as I could, and then I felt it throbbing as he came inside me.

Knowing that he was coming in me, the feeling of his cock pressing against something inside me - both triggered my own orgasm. I didn’t know what I was doing except that I had to come. I pulled his head forward, shoved my cock as deep in his mouth as I could, and gave him a half dozen or so spurts of semen.

Either the head of my cock against the back of his throat or the semen I squirted there caused him to gag. He pulled away from me with all his strength, gagging, retching, spitting my come out over my cock and balls and his stomach. Again and again, he hocked it up and spit it out until we were both wet with his saliva and my semen. When he looked up at me, his face was flushed and his eyes were red and wet with tears.

"You bastard," he said, and at the same time slapped me across the face with his open hand. I caught my breath, felt a sudden surge of anger, but I knew I probably deserved what he had done. Along with the stinging sensation I felt in my cheek and nose, I felt something warm and wet begin to drip out of one nostril. When the drops began to fall on my cock and on his stomach, I looked down and realized my nose was bleeding. I pressed one finger against the nostril, trying to stop the flow.

When I looked back at David, he was smiling, looking at my face and then down at the mess we had made. We were both drenched with sweat and slippery with oil. My stomach and his, along with my cock and balls, were covered with the white of his spit and my semen and the red of my blood. He began to laugh, small spastic movements at first with low chuckles, growing into uncontrollable and stronger movements and laughter.

I couldn't help but respond the same way. When he pushed me off, I fell back on the mattress, and he rolled forward on top of me. We rubbed against each other, both of us laughing uncontrollably. He pinned me against the mattress and kissed me. His mouth was open and his tongue pushed into my mouth. It was the first time I had ever been kissed like that by a man. I could taste sweat and blood and semen.

<><><>

"It won't work, Kieran," Siobhan said. She took her hand off my cock and slapped me gently on the stomach.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"I mean it won’t work. I know what you're doing. You’re trying to make me disgusted at what you're describing. If you really understood what a woman lives with all the time, you'd realize your story isn't going to do it."

"I don't understand," I said, pretending innocence. "I'm not trying to disgust you. I'm just doing what you asked. You wanted every last little detail of what it was like to have sex with another man. You're getting it."

"Come on, Kieran, you should know I'm not turned off by sweat. I couldn't count the times you've been on top of me, fucking me, and I could feel the sweat running off you and all over my breasts and stomach. I'll even admit I like your salty taste you when you're sweating like that. Why do you think you end up with all those love marks on your shoulders?"

"Well, at least I don't spit on you," I said.

"No, but I remember a few times when you were in a hurry to screw me and you spit on the head of your cock, rather than take the time to get my juices flowing."

I looked at her, pretending amazement, to think that she would accuse me of something like that.

"Don't try to look innocent. I'm no more repelled by your saliva than I am by my own. You know I love for you to kiss me. Sometimes you have your mouth on mine for minutes a time, with your tongue in my mouth or mine in yours. Neither of us cares whose spit we're swallowing."

"Doesn't blood make you feel a little squeamish?" I asked.

"Shit, Kieran, you should certainly know better than that. If you had to live your life as a woman, with a body that prepares a place for one little fertilized egg to settle every month... And then every month, if you had to contend with the mess that flows out... You wouldn't worry about a little red blood on occasion.”

"Semen?"

"Not even that. I've had it on my hands, my belly, on my breasts, even in my mouth. When I'm hot for you, I like to see your come spurt out on me, to feel it hot and slippery on me. When you come inside me, what do you think happens to it? It may be viscous when you put it in, but it breaks down in a few minutes. Those little sperm go swimming merrily upstream while everything else just slowly runs downstream.”

"You mean you're not disgusted by anything David and I did?" I asked, really wondering whether she was or not.

"I haven't heard of much that you haven't done to me or I to you," she said, looking me straight in the eyes, "and I know I'm not disgusted by anything we do together."

"Are you sure you're not repulsed by anything I've told you so far?" I asked. "I'm not through with the story."

"Well, get on with it. I hope you know you've got me hot and juicy hearing all this. I'm going to fuck your brains out when you get through with your story. It’s probably mostly lies anyway."

"I’m not lying to y0u,” I protested. “Everything I've told you really happened. A lot more happened after we had another shower and finished off the rest of the beer and a bottle of wine. We finally quit with each other just before dawn."

“What else did you do?” she asked.

"We tried a sixty-nine and we were both a little drunk and couldn’t do it right. We decided we’d just swap blowjobs. I almost puked when he came in my mouth. I grabbed a towel and spit it out. He laughed at me and then later he swallowed mine.”

“Did you fuck him in the ass with that big dick of yours?”

“Yeah, he said the English prof had a dick smaller than mine and he wasn’t sure he wanted me to do it. Then he decided he did and he groaned like I was killing him when I fucked him. He didn’t want me to stop until I came again and it took a while the third time.”

“I’ve got one more question, Kieran, and then I’m going to fuck you good before we go to sleep.”

“What?”

“Would you tell Kavan about what you did with David? Someday, if he asks you if you’ve ever fucked around with another man, what will you tell him?”

“Shit, Siobhan, I don’t know.”

“I thought you said you were always going to be honest with them when they asked about sex.”

“I did but this is different.”

“Why? You’ve always said you weren’t ashamed of anything you’ve done sexually. Are you ashamed of fucking with David? What if Kavan or Kerry is really curious about homosexuality? What if they want to know what you’ve done and what you think about it? You’re the one who’s got to answer their questions most of the time. We agreed I’d talk to Arial and you’d talk to the boys.”

“Well, I’ll think about it. I guess I never thought it would be so hard to know the right thing to do when it comes to kids.”

“I know what you should say to them.”

“What?”

“Tell them the truth. They’ll probably fool around with boys too. Tell them you’ll always love them, no matter what they do.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right. I’ll think about it.”

“Think about it tomorrow. I’ve got something else in mind for tonight.”’

“What?”

“I bet I can give you a better blow-job than David.”

“No, I don’t want you to do that.”

“No? Why not? What do you want?”

“Oh, I don’t know.”

“Well, make up your mind or I’m going to sleep.”

“Oh, alright, I want my tongue in your cunt until you come a time or two. After that, I want you to stick your ass up in the air while I fuck you from behind. You can diddle your clit with your finger if you want to get off again. Is that good enough?”

“That sounds like a good plan. Are you sure you’re up to it?”

“Yeah, feel this.”

TO BE CONTINUED:

 

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