The Visitor
by The Scholar
Part 4: Friendship
"I don't know what made me say it, apart from the fact that I knew it was true and if anyone was going to understand, I guessed it would be Dave:
"So you're gay, too?"
I nodded.
"Well, I think I am," I said. "I mean it's not like I've ever been with another boy, or anything."
"What? Not even kissed one?"
"No, nothing. It's just a feeling, I have. I don't know - it's hard to explain. The feelings I get when I think about boys don't happen when I think about girls."
"What sort of feelings?"
"You know."
"No - tell me."
I felt a little embarrassed.
"Well?"
"I had to answer, I knew I had to answer. "I get a hard-on, that sort of thing."
I felt his shoulders shake. He was laughing at me.
"Hey, don't laugh. It's not funny. I thought we were friends."
"We are. I'm sorry, but it's just that I never thought about a hard-on being the reason why I like boys more than girls."
"Well how is it for you?"
"I don't know. I see a boy and I like the way he looks, the way he walks, the way he speaks. There's something that just clicks with me. Yeah, I get a hard-on, but more often than not it comes to nothing. The other guy is straight, so that's it. It just becomes a fantasy. A jack-off job, know what I mean?"
I did! Oh, believe me, I did!
"So this boy you were seen kissing..." I ventured.
"A kid in my school. Actually, he was kissing me and that's what made it all so ridiculous. He'd been calling me a queer at school and one day, walking home, he ran up behind me and spun me round, planted his lips on mine and said he knew I'd wanted that for a long time and that now I'd have something to jack-off about and then he ran off. That must have been when that guy my Dad works with saw me and told my Dad."
"But didn't your Dad want to know the truth?"
"Yeah, he did - he was quite vocal about it. I got home from school and he started yelling at me, demanding to know what was going on, said I'd been seen kissing another kid and pleaded with me to tell him it wasn't true. I tried to tell him, but he just stood looking at me shaking his head, disbelief in his face, almost to the point of tears. He yelled some more and I yelled back that yes, I was gay, but about the kid from school? No, he didn't really want to know. He just wanted to hear me deny that it had happened, he didn't really want me to tell him the truth."
"What happened?"
"For a while, nothing - he just stared at me, like he was in some sort of trance. It was only when I made a move did he seem to come back to reality. I can still see his face - angry. Disappointed and angry. I could have coped with disappointment, but not with anger.
"He moved towards me and before I could move away he had grabbed me by the shoulders, he shook me hard, kept shaking and screaming, though I forget what it was he said, in fact, I'm not sure I really heard the words. I was being shaken like a rag doll and I was crying, I remember the tears falling down my face as he shook me, then suddenly he had stopped, I was on the floor - just lying on the floor - crying.
"He stood over me and I remember him shouting at me to stand up; and when I didn't move he kicked me. I tried to stand to stop him kicking me and he bent down and grabbed hold of me again, pulling me to my feet.
"He said no son of his was going to be a pussy boy, that he'd knock it out of me if it killed him - or me.
"He was still yelling and he made me strip naked, there in the living room, he made me strip naked. I pleaded with him, begged him, but he just yelled some more and I was shaking, trembling, tears falling down my face, I could hardly see what I was doing as I stripped myself and stood before him completely naked, my clothes dropping to the floor as each item was discarded.
"He picked up my pants and I saw him pull the belt from them, I fell to the floor, kneeling in front of him, begging him not to hurt me, but he just reached down and pulled me up again, pushing me to the sofa and before I knew it I was leant over the back of the sofa, the belt from my pants stinging against my ass as he whipped me.
"I yelled out as the belt stung my flesh and he kept whipping me, faster strokes, stinging strokes, my ass felt like it was on fire as each stroke of the belt dug deeper into me. Sometimes his aim was off and it whipped against my balls, I was almost passing out with the pain as the strokes came - ten, twenty, thirty, forty, I lost count.
"The next thing I remember, I was lying on my bed, face down. I tried to move, but I couldn't, I felt to weak to move and I lay there, remembering what had happened. I turned slightly and saw the blood on the sheets. My blood. Blood from the wounds my father had inflicted. He was sure as hell making sure no one would want to use my ass as a pussy.
"I had to have time off school; he made up some excuse and the school believed him. I couldn't sit for weeks. I had trouble sleeping, because I would wake up as soon as I rolled over. I hated my father. For the first time in my life I hated my father.
"He never did it again - when he saw I was getting stronger, in less pain, he tried, but I was ready for him. As soon as he came near me, I kicked him in the groin and when he doubled up from the pain, I ran. I never went back."
Dave had tears in his eyes, as he relived the events that had made him homeless. I was crying, too and I reached out to hold him.
"What about your mother?" I whispered.
"Gone - years ago, she upped and left my Dad and me. Never seen her since I was eight."
"Tough break," it was inadequate.
"Yeah. I guess me and Dad had grown up together - had to. Finding out I was gay, well, I suppose it was like a bullet to his head."
I held him and he held me and we sat like that for a long time. Eventually, recomposed, he turned to me and said: "What about you - what's your story?"
"My story? Well, where to begin? I wasn't really sure about my story. I'd told him I was gay - by the way, John, that's the bit I said I didn't want to go into, though I knew I'd get there eventually - but as for the reason I was on the streets. That was a mystery even to me.
"On reflection, I suppose, I do remember Dad yelling words like queer and faggot, so I guess that's why my Mom was crying. I was gay. Simple as that! I was gay, they didn't like it and Dad wasn't going to have me in the house - Absurd, really - I mean, Christ, we live in San Francisco, as near as damn it. So, that's what I told Dave. Feeble, compared to his story - but it was true. It had to be.
"Telling Dave I was gay seemed like the right thing to do. In fact, I knew it was the right thing to do:
"Tony, remember I said that when I meet a guy I like something just clicks?"
I did. "Yeah."
"Well, at the risk of ruining our friendship, that something's just clicked."
"You mean...?"
"I mean I like you - more than like you. Okay, so you probably don't have any feelings for me, but I thought you ought to know."
"I don't know what to say - Thanks, I guess."
"You don't have to say anything and you're welcome."
"Wow!"
"What do you mean, 'Wow'?"
"I don't know, really. Amazing that you should fancy me."
"Why?"
"Remember I told you I get a hard-on when I fancy someone?"
"Yeah."
"Well, I got one now."
"No way!"
"Honest - look, give me your hand."
He did. I took it and placed it over the bulge in my jeans.
"Wow!"
"Now you're doing it."
"Sorry, I mean - well, I mean - Jesus, Tony, you've never even been kissed by a guy."
"Want to remedy that?"
"I thought you'd never ask."
And with that, Dave's mouth covered my own and I was kissing another boy for the first time in my life. His hand remained on the bulge in my jeans as his lips pressed against mine feeling soft, gentle and passionate. They stayed there until I felt I could no longer breathe and as I opened my mouth to take in the air, I took in his tongue. Warm, wet, slippery, it pushed into my mouth and encircled my own. His lips were again pressed against mine as our tongues battled it out - his in my mouth, mine in his. I could feel his teeth with my tongue and I could feel his tongue on my teeth, then we were pushing closer to the backs of our throats. It was an amazing feeling and I would have died happy there and then and didn't want it to end, but end it did.
"Wow!" My turn again.
"Want a bigger 'wow'?"
"How much bigger?" I asked.
He didn't say a word, but I felt the zipper on my jeans slowly coming down and his hand working its way inside the fabric. I felt him move his hand softly over my erection over the fabric of my boxer shorts, up and down; the palm of his hand rubbing along the material that separated his skin from mine. I could feel my already hard dick growing even larger and I heard myself moan. I had achieved an erection of six inches on my own before today, but I'm sure Tony managed to force an extra inch or so out of me.
His hand felt good and I felt good - this had never happened to me before, though I had fantasized about it many times. I felt a bit strange, too, as my breathing was getting to be a little shallow. I took a deep breath and tried to get my breathing back to normal. I felt my chest heave in the attempt, but no matter how hard I tried, my breathing remained shallow. I wanted him to stop, but then again, I didn't. I was confused. I didn't really know what I wanted.
I began to move my body slightly and suddenly realized that Dave's hand was not caressing me anymore - it was no longer inside the fly of my jeans, rubbing gently over the fabric of my boxer shorts. Instead it had moved to my belt - the belt around my waist, the belt helping to hold up my jeans and it was being unbuckled. I felt the leather strap open and I felt Dave's hands move to the button fastening at the top of my jeans and then it, too, was open.
I was excited and frightened. Nothing like this had ever happened to me before - did I already say that? I felt his hand pulling at my jeans as they started to slowly slide away from my waist and I lifted myself slightly as they passed over my buttocks and finished up around my ankles.
I looked down at my boxer shorts, tenting with my erection - a damp patch forming as I felt my dick ooze fluid, lubricating my dick head and wetting my shorts and, as I stared at them, I saw Dave's hands at the waistband. He was pulling them down and I felt myself lifting again to allow them to be.
That's when I felt the cool breeze on my dick and I shivered with anticipation of what would happen next. I didn't have to wait long, as Dave took my erection in his hand and stroked it gently. As gentle as it was, it felt electrifying and I could feel more liquid oozing from the tip as Dave's hand rubbed against the swollen head of my dick. I felt his thumb begin to caress the head and the liquid was spread across it. I felt Dave's warm, moist breath as he lowered his head and kissed the slit of my dick head and I felt his tongue snake out to lap up the liquid that was now freely flowing. I heard a moaning noise and realized that it was me.
For the most part, my eyes had been closed and I opened them now to find Dave's head between my legs and my dick inside his mouth. I could feel the hot breath from his nostrils on my skin and tickling against my pubic hair as he took my dick deep into his mouth.
I could almost feel the head touching the back of his throat and was terrified that he would choke, but he seemed to be in control and continued to plunge deeper with each thrust. I felt his tongue licking at the underside of my shaft and over the head of my erection as he came up for air. He looked up at me and smiled and then I felt his kiss as he again found the slit at the end.
I felt my body turn to Jell-O and thought I would pass out with the pressure I felt building in my ball sack and from somewhere within me came this sudden urge to scream, but I couldn't - it was all I could do to breath.
I watched as Dave again engulfed my dick and as his head began to bob up and down on my shaft, faster with each stroke. I suddenly felt my whole being shake uncontrollably as Dave's mouth returned to my dick head, holding it just inside his mouth as I came, thrusting my hips upwards as my balls released their juice. I felt it hurl down my shaft and exit into Dave's waiting mouth. It seemed to go on forever and, again, I was afraid he would choke, but a suction movement told me otherwise. He was milking every last drop from me and when I had no more to give he released my dick, the cool breeze caught its dampness and I felt exhausted.
As my breathing became more normal, Dave looked into my eyes.
"How was it?" he asked.
"Wow!"
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