No-one Messes With My Peter!

by Toby Johnston

Chapter 3

Bullies Beware – the Good Guys Always Win

Have I mentioned that mom's a psychologist? She loves to talk, and to analyze us. I joke that we're her testing ground for medical experiments—but sometimes I wonder if that's really a joke! We got back downstairs, and I tried to fend off any talk by telling her that Peter's mom had already had a super, really long discussion with us.

I got shut down fast. "I know exactly what Madeline has discussed with you boys. I already got a full report from her. Plant yourselves on the couch in the living room and we'll get started. You can even hold hands like you did with Peter's mom if you'd like."

I guess she really did get a full report! We sat next to each other, but I wasn't ready to hold hands yet in front of the 'rents. Good news is they didn't try to talk us out of dating, or forbid us, or anything like that. They even said they expected us to do stuff and while they wanted us to wait; they recognized that we likely wouldn't. So instead, they talked to us about safe-sex and stuff like that. Seriously embarrassing with your parents, but they insisted—'if you're ready to do it; then you have to be ready to talk about it.'

Peter was squirming less than I was, but then I guess I found the talk with his mom easier than this one—kind of 'one parent removed' if you know what I mean. Eventually, mom seemed to be talked out. I thought we were done, light at the end of the tunnel and all that. But no such luck. It just meant that she had covered all of her points. She abandoned us to dad—who wanted to talk sex again. Like real sex. Like how you actually do it sex! Please God, just take me now!

He didn't. Not only that, God seemed to give Peter the go ahead to ask all kinds of questions, goading dad to go into even more detail. Seriously Peter?! This is why they invented to internet and fooled parents into thinking they could block inappropriate content! I just kept nodding and hoping it would end soon. Okay, maybe dad did give us some good tips—I had been very confused on a couple of points even after reading stuff online.

Dad finally took pity on a very clearly uncomfortable me and kicked us loose. Peter was snickering all the way back upstairs to my room—until I got him inside and closed the door. Then I manhandled him over to the bed, pushed him on his back and pounced on him! He was laughing too hard to defend himself as I went in for serious tickles, which have always been his Achilles' heel!

We'd done this before, mostly when we were wrestling and stuff. Sometimes I'd gotten hard; other times not. This was the first time I'd done it now that we were fiancés. I got so hard, so fast. Peter did too, even though he was twisting and squirming under me. Who knew tickling could be erotic? When he finally put up his hand to stop me, we both were red, sweaty, and panting. I stopped, hovered over him for a couple of seconds, and then dove in for a kiss!

It's like we couldn't get our lips together fast enough, or our tongues for that matter. Thank God for noses to breathe with or we would've both passed out. Peter wrapped his arms around me and rolled us so he was on top. It felt nice, having his full weight lying on me. He pulled back just a little, "Do you think we're safe from your parents barging in?"

I smirked, "Totally, ever since mom walked in on me flogging it this summer! Dad put that thumb lock on the next day."

His eyes bugged out! "No way! How embarrassing. Did ya cover up fast?"

"Too late, stuff was already happening. She got wide-eyed and slammed the door shut! It was about a week before we could actually look at each other."

"At least your dad was cool, putting the lock on so quickly!"

"Seriously! And get this, same day, I'm coming towards the kitchen and I hear them talking."

Mom: 'You didn't have to install that so quickly; he wouldn't do it again for a while.'

Dad: 'A while?'

Mom:' Well like a week'

Dad: 'A week? Honey he's thirteen.'

Mom: 'What do you mean, he'd do it the next day?'

Dad: 'Try same day!'

Mom: 'No, he wouldn't!'

Dad: 'I think eight times in one day was my personal record!'

Mom: 'Not my baby!'

Dad: 'Your baby's growing up, and he's all boy. That's what boys do!'

"I quietly retreated. That was not a conversation I wanted to get in the middle of!"

"I like your dad even more!"

"Yeah, he's pretty cool I think."

Peter glanced at the door to confirm it was locked, then turned back and motioned me to sit up. He grabbed my t-shirt and pulled it up; me lifting my arms to help out. Then he pushed me back onto the pillow and reached for my shorts, undoing the snap and slowly pulling the zipper down. I just lay back and watched.

He looked up at me and grinned, then grabbed my shorts and boxer-briefs, stripping me naked in one fell swoop! I started to sit up, assuming I was going to do the same to him, but he pressed his hand against my chest and firmly shoved me back down. Then he leaned forward, grabbing both my wrists and pushing my arms up over my head. I was totally naked, totally exposed—Peter was definitely in charge—which was totally a turn-on!

I put up a vicious struggle, a little, not really—but I did put on a show! Peter was giggling as he held me down. I tried to lift my head up to kiss him, but he pulled his head back just out of range. "Tilt your head back," he whispered, "Further…further."

Then I felt him coming close. I shivered as his warm breath tickled my outstretched neck. He gently blew up one side, and then down the other. Then waited. He was so close, but not touching. Finally, his lips connected to my neck—they were soft, warm, wet. So gently, so softly, he kissed up and down both sides. I gasped and twisted under him; gone were any thoughts of pretending to struggle, this was all so new, so intense, so amazingly overwhelming.

I was whimpering, cooing, and moaning—all the time trying to be so quiet. I was losing the battle when he interspersed licking with the kisses. My God, his tongue! I completely surrendered when he latched onto the base of my neck on the side and started sucking hard. He shushed me as he sucked and munched on my neck. I realized that he was giving me a hickey, briefly wondering how I would hide it, but not really caring.

Eventually, he moved down to my chest, clearly remembering what had driven me crazy last night on the couch. Then he started in on my armpits—both of us discovering a whole new part of me that drove me wild. But that was only until he attacked the groove down the middle of my abs, on the way to my belly button! His chin kept bumping into my cock as he tongued my little indent—it's a wonder I didn't shoot right then.

He started gently blowing on my twitching cock—making it jump violently. I was beside myself with anticipation, doing everything I could to offer myself up to him—which wasn't a whole lot given that he was still straddling my legs! I'd spread my legs as far apart as I possibly could and kept thrusting my hips upwards. None of that made Peter move any faster though. He was delightfully slow-teasing me—which was both agonizing and amazing at the same time!

Then he licked me! From the base to the tip, swirling his tongue all around my head when he got there. This time when I thrust my hips up, I popped into his mouth and he latched on. I felt my cock sliding in across his soft, warm, wet tongue! Oh sweet Jesus, I thought. I didn't know the words for beyond amazing, but this was it! He bobbed, I thrusted, then I came! Sue me, I'm thirteen and it was my very first blow job!

My whole body went stiff, arching up in the air with just my shoulders and lower legs touching the bed. Peter holding on for dear life, keeping me in his mouth. I could hear him swallowing; gagging just a little as I unloaded. Eventually, I sank back down onto the bed, gasping for breath. I finally lifted my head up and looked down at him. We locked eyes; his grin had to be a big as mine. I noticed a glistening smear on his chin.

I held my arms out to him and he climbed back up my body and into my embrace. I licked the smear off his chin and pulled him in for a kiss. We both were kind of gently nuzzling each other. Lots of kissing. Both of us still panting heavily.

"Was that okay?" he whispered. Whispering seemed like the right tone; like it made things even more intimate.

I shook my head vigorously, "Okay? No, definitely not okay." I grinned, "More like incredible. Amazing. Stupendous!"

Peter smiled proudly—like the time he'd scored a goal, bending it in off a corner kick, right into the far end of the net!

"I heard you gag, were you okay?"

"Yeah. You kind of shot a lot, no a ton. I was trying to swallow and you were still shooting!"

"Well, someone super-teased me. That kind of got me very worked up. I don't think I've ever shot that much!"

"Did I torture you too much?"

"You can torture me like that every time!" I smirked, as I reach for the edge of his t-shirt and pulled it off over his head. I managed to get his shorts off him one leg at a time, without his really having to get off me. Then I reached back and cupped his adorable little butt, pulling him up to a sitting position astride my chest. His beautiful cock was right there in my face—his kind of stuck straight out at an angle instead of curving up like mine.

I opened wide and pulled his butt forward; guiding him in. I was surprised by a giddy feeling that surged through my body when I felt his head and shaft sliding in across my tongue. I'd fantasized about this for months, and I knew I'd like it, but I wasn't prepared for how much I would love it. I instantly knew I was here on earth to take care of this boy and make him happy!

We were both too turned on for me to give any thought to slowly teasing him like he had done with me, but I was determined to drive him just as wild. I swallowed as he eased his cock into my mouth, making my tongue slide back and forth on his head and shaft. I kept my hands on his tight butt, using pressure to guide him when to pump in or out. I've never had much of a gag reflex, and was so proud when I felt his pubes brush up against my nose!

Every grunt, every whimper, every groan triggered another surge of happiness through my body. I'm not sure who was happier—Peter getting his cock sucked, or me doing the sucking! He was holding onto the headboard, pumping away like crazy. My hands were sliding up and down his little butt—it was getting really hot and a little sweaty.

I'd already learned the sounds and movements that signaled he was close, so I was ready when he threw his head back and started twitching and unloading in my mouth. Proudly, but probably luckily, I timed my swallows and managed not to gag. I gently sucked as he slowed down, nursing the last drops until he gasped out, "Too sensitive!" and pulled back.

He nestled back down on top of me, tucking his head into the crook of my neck. I wrapped my arms and legs tightly around him, pulling him in close. I lightly stroked him from shoulders to butt until the two of us fell asleep.

I don't think either of us stirred as we were in the same position when I awoke to a light knocking at the door. I heard my dad, "Are you awake boys? Dinner's in about thirty."

"Yeah dad, we're up. Sorry, we fell asleep."

"No problem. Ummm, you might want to freshen up before you come down. You guys can set the table."

I gave my boyfriend a tight squeeze, "Wake up sleepy head. We gotta jump in the shower—you smell like boy-sex!"

Peter murmured and snuggled in deeper, "Don't wanna move. Too nice right here!"

I threatened him with another tickle attack and that got him moving, me right behind him so I got to watch my beautiful naked boyfriend bounce into the bathroom. We took turns washing each other—I don't think I'll ever tire of doing that! This time it was actually a quick shower—no time for fooling around, but it was still really nice.

As we toweled off, I saw my neck in the mirror—the hickey Peter had given me was already showing. I touched it lightly. Peter looked embarrassed, "Sorry, I kind of got carried away."

"I'll probably catch some flak from the guys in the locker room come Monday," I mused.

He bit his lower lip like he always does when he's nervous, "Are you mad?"

I smiled, "Not at all. I like it. You branded me—I'm yours. I like being yours. If it'll make you feel better, I can give you one later."

He quickly blushed and looked very shy for a second, "Would you? You don't think I'm weird?"

I reached out and pulled him in, leaning my forehead against his, "If you want me to, I will. And if you're weird, I'm weirder!" He just smiled, and nodded.

We got dressed. I opted for a polo shirt, so I'd have a collar to cover my new present!

I felt like mom was kind of watching me as we came into the kitchen—like she was trying to see if we'd 'done it'. Peter jumped right in on getting stuff out to set the table though, so that was a good distraction. I just followed his lead, and that kept us busy until dad came in off the deck with grilled steaks.

Dinner went a lot better than I expected. We didn't discuss Peter and my relationship; nor did we sit there awkwardly 'not talking about it'. I silently thanked dad for that. He launched into a whole discussion about our history project the moment he came in off the deck. His dad—my grandfather, who passed away before I was born—was in the war in the Pacific, so dad knew all about it. I think he could have gotten an A+ in Mr. Buell's class without even studying!

After we cleaned-up the kitchen, Peter and I joined mom and dad in the family room where dad had Midway all queued up! I didn't feel comfortable cuddling up in front of my parents like we had with Peter's mom. Instead, Peter and I sat at opposite ends of the couch. We did have a blanket over us in the middle as it was starting to get cold, so we did have bare legs touching which was nice.

Mom didn't make it through the whole movie; but the guys did—spoiler alert, the American's won! When we got to my room, Peter slipped the thumb lock closed and we slowly undressed each other with lots of kissing and touching while we did! Of course, we were both hard as rocks when we were finally naked, which proved a problem when we went to the bathroom to get ready for bed. I brushed my teeth while poor Peter tried to will his cock down enough to pee. It didn't help that I kept stroking his butt every time I heard him start to pee!

When we finally climbed into bed, Peter wanted me to give him a hickey, so we had to take care of that. You can imagine where things went from there. We experimented with the proverbial sixty-nine. It was fun, but I think I like concentrating on each other better. We cuddled up afterwards and drifted off to sleep; but not for long. We didn't get a whole lot of sleep that night. We fooled around again at midnight, sometime in the middle of the night, and again as the sun was just starting to lighten the sky. I didn't want Peter to go home later in the morning, but I think my body was going to need it!

We took our time in the shower, both of us realizing it would probably be a week before we got to do it together again—barring my locker room fantasy coming true! After breakfast, we put the finishing touches on our posterboards. We were very proud of them. We had one showing the raw material ingest needs for the island nation of Japan. A second showing the negative impacts of the US and other nations embargoes on Japan. And finally, a third showing the raw materials available across Japan's neighboring Pacific nations and the colonies of the European nations.

It was mid-morning when mom hollered up the stairs that Peter's mom was on her way over to pick him up. We got him packed up, and then had to say goodbye. That was tough, even though we knew we would see each other the next morning. There were lots of soft kisses; lots of 'I love you's'; lot's of 'I'm going to miss you tonight's'!

Then I crawled into bed and took a nap—for almost the whole rest of the day. Mom came and woke me up in the late afternoon so I could make sure all my homework was done before dinner. I think she was worried I wouldn't sleep that night—but that was so not a problem! I was exhausted and my cock was sore. For the first time since I could remember, I didn't jerk off before falling asleep, and I didn't stir until the next morning!

That Monday was officially fall in Massachusetts, the cold wave had come down from Canada over the weekend. My jeans were a little tight, but I could still get into them. I was just lacing up my hiking boots when Peter came bounding up the stairs. He was similarly dressed in boots and jeans—but in a flannel shirt instead of my button-down and sweater. Probably a good thing we weren't twinnies for our first 'out gay boyfriends' at school day!

He did look good in those jeans though. I was about to make him twirl around for me when he beat me to it. He made me stop when my back was to him, so I wiggled my butt in a little dance—thank God no one else was watching me, that would have been way embarrassing. Peter seemed to like it though; he moved in close behind me and I felt him push his bulge against my denim covered mounds. We probably would have taken things further, but mom hollered up the stairs that it was time to get going! We both quickly adjusted ourselves and headed downstairs.

"What are they all doing?" Peter asked as mom swung into the drop-off circle at school.

I pulled my head out of my phone to see Alex with a bunch of the team gathered around him. I'd been checking my texts again. Thankfully there were no more homophobic ones. There were more that were supportive—guess the word was still getting out. Interestingly the >> Only if we're trading! << got a response >> Maybe… <<. I still didn't know who that one was from—it just said unknown number, maybe Peter will have an idea.

We hopped out and were quickly swarmed by the guys. Lots of 'hey how are you guys', 'how was your weekend?' I gave Alex the evil eye, "What are you up to?"

He grinned, looking very proud of himself, "Nothing. We just figured we should all go into Assembly as a team."

"Still watching our backs?"

"Yup."

"Did I say thanks on Saturday?"

"No, you didn't. But I knew you appreciated it."

"Okay. Well thanks. Officially. Twice."

They all helped us cart our poster-boards into Mr. Buell's classroom and then we booked off to Assembly. Alex had the 7^th graders on the varsity team hold a group of seats for all of us—right up front. Peter sat in between Alex and I—just like we had done on the soccer field last Friday.

Every day started with Assembly, usually it was twenty minutes or so, starting with a life lesson of sorts of Mr. Winchell's choosing and then a bunch of business items. Today was all about Sua Sponte. Pretty quickly, even though he didn't say anything directly, it was clear that he was talking about Peter and I, last Friday, life choices, and all that. He even called out the entire soccer team for being supportive—calling them 'exemplars of what it means to be a Green Mountain Boy'.

I was all I could do to not get teary-eyed again. I felt Peter subtly shift his hand down alongside mine and give me a squeeze. Alex was more blatant; he put his arm around Peter's shoulders and left it there all during Mr. Winchell's talk. When he finished up, Alex popped right up and started clapping. The team followed suit, and pretty soon it seemed like the whole school joined in. It felt really good.

Alex, Peter and I were riding a high as we trooped off to Mr. Buell's class—until we walked in the door. Peter stopped short so suddenly, I ran right into him! Our poster-boards, which were all lined up on the ledge at the front of the room—someone had scrawled 'Fags' across each of them with a thick black marker.

The three of us just stood there as the rest of the boys pushed into the room around us. I could vaguely hear Mr. Buell saying something as he walked in the door, then he stopped mid-sentence. I felt him move up behind us, "Don't worry boys. We'll get those cleaned up. You can do your presentation another day."

I jumped as Peter, blasted out a firm "No! We're not backing down for any homophobe! We put this report together and we're going to do it—now!"

Shit, I'm getting hard! Who knew a brave, awesome boyfriend would be a turn-on? I started reciting wartime facts and figures over in my mind as quickly as I could to get my mind off my groin. It worked, thankfully!

Peter was adamant that we go ahead with our presentation, so we did: "The Winds of War"— the economic factors that drove Japan to launch the quest for the Greater East Asian Co-Prosperity Sphere. The invasion of China, the colonies of South-east Asia, and the bombing of Pearl Harbor. Fags posters and all.

We got through it without a hitch. Hitting all of our key talking points as we traded back and forth. The class listened and asked some really good questions—most of which Peter and I were able to field; a couple that Mr. Buell had to wade in and help with. Until Alex threw his hand up. I saw the glint in his eye and tried to ignore him, but he persisted until it was just awkward to not call on him.

He tried to look very serious, but wasn't very successful, "I see 'Fags' written in big letters across all three boards. Why is that? Does that mean there were fags fighting for the Japanese, the Allies, and the Americans?"

I heard Peter snort back a laugh, but without missing a beat he offered up, "Well Alex. As you know, us fags are everywhere. And it's not always obvious, sometimes you just don't know who's who!"

That signaled the end of our presentation as Mr. Buell jumped in to regain control of the class—waving down the slew of hands that flew into the air as the others thought up brilliant follow-on questions to Alex's line of thinking! He made a few comments; linking our presentation back into the broader theme of the class so far. I'd noticed he liked to do that frequently, and I thought that was really cool. One of us would make a comment, and in a couple of sentences Mr. Buell could link a seemingly random comment back into the focus of the class.

The rest of the day went really well. I even got through geometry without any issues—thanks to Peter's help with theorems over the weekend! Oh—wait. I did get an in-school suspension. My parents got called in by Mr. Winchell and everything, so I guess that part of the day didn't go so well.

It was after lunch when we happened on the beginnings of a fight in the breezeway. I heard the fight before I saw it. As Peter later retold the tale, he knew things were going to go south when he saw 'that look in my eyes'! We rounded the corner to see Jason Fullman was squaring off with Billy Wilson—one of our younger players on the varsity soccer team.

Apparently, Billy had heard Fullman bragging to some guys about marking up our posters and confronted him. Brave on Billy's part, but maybe not the smartest move, as Fullman was way taller and way bigger. But Billy wasn't backing down. I wasn't going to let him get pummeled though, so I inserted myself in between them.

I was going to say something smartass, but I didn't even get the chance. Fullman saw me and hauled back to swing. Like I said, my older brother taught me how to fight, and Fullman wasn't even trying to hide his intent, so it was easy to dodge. My brother says, 'there's no such thing as a fair fight, the goal is to win'. Fullman was wide open and off balance after that swing—easy enough to introduce the toe of my hiking boot to his balls.

I'd never done that before, but I hit him solid! He tucked his groin in—like that was gonna undo the pain. That made him bend forward. His eyes bulged out. His stinky breath shot into my face—ugh. My fist caught him right in the eye next, snapping his head back and laying him back out on the floor in front of everyone.

I wasn't done yet by a long shot. I shifted on the balls of my feet, ready to go in again. Honestly, I wanted to hit him more for what he'd done to Peter and I than for his trying to hurt Billy. I didn't get in any more licks though; the teachers were on us in a heartbeat. We both got hauled off. Me to Mr. Winchell's office; Fullman to the nurse's office.

It didn't take too long for the faculty to sort out what had happened. There were plenty enough witnesses who were more than happy, even enthusiastic, to give the blow by blow. Even though Fullman got the worse of it in the fight, he's the one that had swung first and had vandalized the posters—so he ended up with a full week of real suspension.

Me, I got the three days of in-school suspension, which basically meant I would have to go to Mr. Buell's classroom during my free periods to do my homework. I also wouldn't be allowed to practice with the team, but I was required to work out during sports period. As my punishment was explained to me, I thought back to what Mr. Winchell had said about Sua Sponte—this seemed like another of those kinds of moments. I felt compelled to admit to them that I was going to hit Fullman anyway. I would have hit him first, but he just beat me to it. So really, I was just as much an instigator of the fight as Fullman was.

Mr. Buell and Mr. Winchell both just looked at me for a bit. Then they retreated to the far corner of the office and had a quiet discussion—lots of murmur, murmur, adult background talk. Eventually they came back, Mr. Winchell taking the lead—basically he said that they rendered their decisions based on the facts, what had happened as opposed to what might have happened. Motivation of course was an important factor, and he appreciated my honesty, but it wouldn't change their decision. He didn't say, but I got the impression that Fullman hadn't exactly lived up to the Green Mountain Boy ideal on that front.

In the end, in-school suspension wasn't so bad. They let Peter come in and study with me—we both got way ahead on our homework and I aced our geometry test. Peter did too, but then he always does. Even sports period wasn't so bad. I couldn't practice with the soccer team, but I ended up running with the cross-country team since they were on the same track that I was doing my 'solo running' on—go figure. They joked that they were my prison guards, and they were going to rehabilitate me!

On the plus side, my parents weren't all that upset with me. They grounded me for the period of my suspension—big whoop, three days, I had homework anyway. Dad actually pulled me aside and said he would have done the same thing—then he winked and said not to tell mom. My brother sent me kudos from boarding school—congratulating me but of course claiming it was all due to his guidance.

The best part of it all, though, after the roller coaster ride that had been the last week, is that I get to sleep over at Peter's after Friday's game—though I don't think we'll get much sleep! Oh, and it's a three-day weekend for Columbus/Indigenous People's Day!

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We support Ukraine — Мы поддерживаем Украину — Ми підтримуємо Україну

We support Ukraine — Мы поддерживаем Украину — Ми підтримуємо Україну

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