The Experimental Method
by Biff Spork
Chapter 6
But Is It Vegan?
Nevada is over-the-top happy I'm becoming a vegan. He covers the kitchen counter with tomatoes, red onions, chilies, avocados and spices. He loves telling me what to do. I love doing what he wants. Fresh salsa and guacamole are the result. With re-fried beans, lettuce, and vegan cheese, our tacos are delicious beyond belief. Vegan cheese! WTF?
After we have stuffed ourselves, we decide to organize a sleepover. We talk to his parents when they get home. It's fine with them if we have a sleepover there, but they want to hear from my parents. When I call my mom, she says it's okay, but we have to have supper at my house because she's spent her lunch hour shopping for vegan food. She wants to try out her new vegan cookbook. We agree and decide to spend the afternoon at the beach.
I feel so good, I enjoy helping Nevada make more tacos for his parents' lunch. It seems to put them in a good mood too.
"So what have you guys been up to?" asks Nevada's mother.
"Oh, just hanging out," says Nevada.
"Whatever you're doing must be right," she says. "You both seem amazingly chipper."
"Yes, indeed," says Nevada's father, with a piercing glance at Nevada. Then he looks at me and smiles a friendly smile, like he knows something nice about me.
Although it takes us a half-hour to clean up the kitchen afterwards, it's fun because it's with Nevada. Of course, in their more enlightened household they have a dishwasher.
It's another perfect summer afternoon. The tide has just come in over the hot sand, so the water along the shoreline is not so cold. It's the ideal temperature for cooling off after baking in the sun. We don't talk much. I grouse a little about having to have supper at my house. Nevada says I shouldn't be so hard on my parents, that I underestimate them. Maybe he's right, but he doesn't have to live with them. We snooze, and bask, and splash, and throw the Frisbee around, until hunger pangs turn us towards home.
Supper with the old folks is better than I expected. The Dickwad chortles only once, when he first sits down. Soon Nevada has him engaged in a conversation about the scientific method. They discuss how to go about testing a hypothesis. There are times during this conversation when I come close to chortling, myself, when Nevada makes thinly veiled references to our current scientific experiment. He shoots me glances from under his brows when I snicker. The food is delicious, and I realize my Mom is a pretty good cook. It's possible I can survive as a vegan.
"Best vegan meal I've had in ages," says Nevada, pushing his chair back from the table.
"Thank you, Nevada," says my Mom, "but don't go yet, there's more." She comes back from the kitchen with a cheesecake on a plate. "Tyler's dad did some shopping today too, at a health food store, and brought this back."
The vegan cheesecake is unbelievable. It's better than real cheesecake.
"Thanks, Mr. James," says Nevada. "Best cheesecake ever."
"Yeah," I say. "It was all delicious. Thanks for supper, Mom." I stop, then just because I feel so good I say it, "Thanks for the cheesecake, Dad."
I begin to feel maybe he isn't so bad after all. Then, as we are riding away from the house, he stands on the front porch and calls out, "Hey you guys, try to stay off the roof." What a dork!
Nevada's house is dark except for their living room. His parents are deep into an old black and white Japanese film. That's one of his mother's specialties — the history of Asian film. We exchange greetings and good-nights and drift upstairs to Nevada's room.
"Now," says Nevada, "we can finally get to the next phase of our experiment."
"Maybe we should wait until your parents go to bed?"
"You know they never come up here," says Nevada, "at least, not ever when I'm here. But if you're worried…" He steps over to the door and locks it. "...that should put your mind at rest."
He pulls me near his bed and reaches for the bottom of my T-shirt. "We should get comfortable while we discuss the next step."
I raise my arms. Our T-shirts and shorts are soon flying to the far corners of the room and we sit naked on the bed. We remove each other's footwear. Both of us are stone-hard stiff — mine sticks straight up, while Nevada's pokes out from his body. When he lies back it aims towards the ceiling. Mine points towards my chin.
"When do you think we'll start to get hairy?" I say.
"Soon, probably," says Nevada. "Everything else seems to be happening at the right time." Our arms reach out and we pull ourselves into each other's embrace. WTF! This is so nice. It's only a hug, but it's like I'm floating in warm cream.
Nevada pulls the sheet over us, and we cuddle for a minute.
"So far," he says, "it seems to me that what we're discovering is fantastic, but there's still something we're missing."
I'm enjoying how my chin fits into his armpit as snugly as a jigsaw-puzzle piece. WTF! Why has nobody ever told me how good it is to feel someone's armpit with your chin?
"Oh, yeah? What's missing?"
"What's missing, Grasshopper … " He pauses, pulls my head up and kisses my nose. " … what's missing is the inside of the other."
"The inside of the other?"
"Well, you know that when a man and a woman have sex, part of the man is actually inside the woman."
"I have heard that. Is it a finger then, that he puts inside her ear?"
"Don't interrupt with lame sarcasm. Anyway, the big experience is being inside the other's body. For the other, it's the experience of having part of someone inside their body."
When I don't say anything, he continues, "Kissing is a little bit inside, feeling each other's tongues and mouths. But I suspect the important sensations have to involve the genitals. I'll show you what I mean in a minute. Let's engage in a little foreplay, to set the scene. Okay?"
"Yes, to set the scene."
We kiss, mouth to mouth, for a few minutes. Then I begin to kiss his ear. My tongue explores its folds and curves. I nuzzle the curly black hair around the back of his neck. It smells like salty, sandy beach. His hand caresses my bum and we press together. Nevada gets up on one elbow and runs his hand down my belly to my dick. He holds it for a minute then reverses his position so my dick is opposite his face.
"Now," he says, "this is what I was thinking of when I was talking about the 'inside of the other'. You don't have to reciprocate if you don't want to, though I suspect a mutual experience would be most rewarding."
A moment later I feel his mouth surround my boner. His tongue caresses the shaft and then wiggles inside the foreskin. The sensations are incredible. His slender five inches is bobbing in front of my nose. I open my mouth and put it inside. Then I feel around with my tongue, but his foreskin is tighter than mine. I can't get my tongue inside so I use my lips to push it down and run my tongue around the head of his dick. It swells and gets harder. I suck and pull more of his boner into my mouth. It fits perfectly. It's like this is what my mouth is for.
Nevada's penis tastes the slightest bit salty. I move my head back and forth and rotate my tongue around the glans. He has my entire prick in his mouth. Then, warmth surrounds my balls and his tongue touches them all over. I find I can put his balls in my mouth too, both of them, like acorns in a silky bag. The end of his dick leaks some syrupy bittersweet juice. Nevada tastes so good.
We lie like this, sucking and slurping. Sometimes he mimics my actions and sometimes I copy what he is doing to me. I could do this forever, holding Nevada's most tender part in my mouth and feeling myself in his. His dick seems to get harder and harder as I run my tongue up and down and around it.
A few minutes later, I can feel I am going to cum soon. I tuck his dick into my cheek and talk around it. "Nevada, I'm cumming in about 5 seconds."
"Mmmhmm," he says, "me too." Then his lips surround my dick again. With his hands on my bum, he pulls me into himself and drives me deep into his mouth. He wraps his warm thighs around my head. I do the same. As his dick reaches the back of my mouth it stiffens even more and begins to vibrate like a tuning fork. Now I cum. What bliss! And as my penis squirts, Nevada's boner pulses in my mouth, and the warm nectar shoots out of him.
When we have milked the last dribbles, we lie in an immense, delighted peace. I don't want to let his dick out of my mouth. I want to hold him there inside me. But he releases me and pulls himself up so we are face to face. We kiss. I can taste my cum in his mouth.
"You taste good," he says.
"Mmmm. You too."
"So," says Nevada between kisses, "you've been wanting to talk…."
I take a deep breath. I know I've got to say what I've got to say, but I'm afraid. It's like I'm walking off the edge of a cliff. "You might hate me when I finish talking, but I have to say this."
"Okay, but I could never hate you, Tyler."
"Just let me finish. Maybe for you, this has been an experiment. And maybe at the beginning, it was for me too. But it's not an experiment for me any more. It's real, and it's made me realize something about myself and how I feel about you. Yesterday and today have been wonderful, the best days in my life. But for me, it's not an experience of just any 'other' person. It's you, Nevada. It's you. I'm not interested in doing any of this with anybody else. I only want to be with you and do this with you."
I bury my face in his chest for a few seconds. I can feel his heart beating against my cheek. "I've wanted to be this close to you since the first time I ever saw you. I didn't want to admit it to myself or even think about it at all. But I can't ignore it any more. I love being like this with you. And if that makes me gay, well, I'm gay for you, Nevada. And I'll never be sorry about that. Being with you is the best thing ever."
I look into his eyes when I finish, and see two big tears spill out. He sniffs and says, "Oh Tyler, that makes me happier than I ever thought I could be. Me too, from that very first day we met in the schoolyard, I knew you were special. I knew I'd never felt about anyone the way I felt about you. As for this 'experiment', I just proposed it like that because I was so afraid that you might not feel the same way about me. I thought if you didn't like it, we could still be friends. Tyler, you're so beautiful, and you taste so good, and smell so good, and feel so good. I'm so lucky to be holding you like this…."
We fall to hugging and kissing here for quite a few minutes. Then I say, "Well, now that the experiment is over, I guess we can take what we've learned and repeat it as often as we like?" I reach down and feel his dick grow in my hand.
"Mmmhmm! Yes. Ahem, before coming to any final conclusion, we should repeat the experiment often. We need to make sure it's replicable. I suspect there's lots of stuff we have yet to discover, too. Should we continue?"
"In the spirit of scientific inquiry, we must persevere," I reply. "Let's test that 'inside the other' thing again. It seemed to me that a few seconds before you squirted, your dick got super-hard, and I was picking up some high frequency vibrations. I'd like to check that out again, if you don't mind."
"That's an interesting observation," says Nevada. "I noticed something similar myself." Then he pulls me tight against him and whispers in my ear, "Tyler James, I love you."
"That's all very well," I say, giving free rein to my wicked streak, "but Nevada, is it vegan? I mean, semen — i s it vegan? Have you led me down a primrose path that ends in a bacon cheeseburger?"
"Oh! What a thought! Tyler James, you're a horrible boy!" He gobbles up my entire scrotum.
"But I taste so good. I mean, what's the difference? It's like I'm a bee and you're after my honey. Aren't you?"
I swirl my tongue around the head of his wonderful dick. His answering swirl moves me beyond words.
~The End~
Authors deserve your feedback. It's the only payment they get. If you go to the top of the page you will find the author's name. Click that and you can email the author easily.* Please take a few moments, if you liked the story, to say so.
[For those who use webmail, or whose regular email client opens when they want to use webmail instead: Please right click the author's name. A menu will open in which you can copy the email address (it goes directly to your clipboard without having the courtesy of mentioning that to you) to paste into your webmail system (Hotmail, Gmail, Yahoo etc). Each browser is subtly different, each Webmail system is different, or we'd give fuller instructions here. We trust you to know how to use your own system. Note: If the email address pastes or arrives with %40 in the middle, replace that weird set of characters with an @ sign.]
* Some browsers may require a right click instead