Part 11
“What’s the matter, Gary?” Patrick asked, making his boyfriend start a bit. To his surprise, Gary turned a dull red and squirmed on his bed. They were hanging out at his house together, pretending to do homework but actually making out a little as they listened to music.
“Um…” Gary said, practically writhing in embarrassment.
Patrick’s brows drew together a little in baffled concern. “Are you okay, Gary?” he asked, touching the smaller boy’s arm.
Another jump. “Yes!” Gary squeaked, now a shade of crimson that made him look apoplectic.
“Are you sure? Why are you blushing so bad?” Patrick said, looking at his face.
Gary closed his eyes in a pure agony of embarrassment. It wasn’t Patrick’s fault that he’d started thinking about the things that Quentin had told him about giving blow jobs, and that had both excited him and also made him feel horribly embarrassed as well, as though Patrick could somehow see into his head.
He stuttered: “I-I t-talked to Quen…” then halted, unable to speak anymore.
“About what?” a puzzled Patrick asked, searching his face.
He put his hands to his burning cheeks. “Oh. Um…” he bit at his lip. “A-about…Oh, God!”
Patrick was starting to feel frustrated as well as concerned. “What could be so bad?” he demanded. “Just tell me what you talked to him about!”
Gary felt terrible when he saw that he was upsetting his boyfriend. So instead of trying to answer anymore which clearly wasn’t working at all, he slipped off the bed and knelt down between an astonished Patrick’s thighs. He couldn’t quite believe that he was doing this - it felt like some strange dream as his fingers reached out for the front of Patrick’s jeans. “Gary?!” it was Patrick’s turn to squeak, his eyes wide as a red-faced Gary began to unfasten his jeans. “What are you…?”
But Gary didn’t answer - not with words, anyway. Getting the jeans undone, he pulled them down off of his boyfriend’s hips determinedly. Patrick just sat there with his mouth hanging open, not believing what was happening. It was only when his jeans and underwear went south that he thought of doing anything, but it was too late by then. Slender fingers had closed over his cock, which was hardening involuntarily. Gary swallowed heavily, then leaned forward and stuck out his tongue to touch it to the pink tip of Patrick’s penis.
“Shit!” Patrick squalled in amazed disbelief, bucking a little. “Gary? What?” he whimpered as that tongue swirled lightly over the tip.
But Gary wasn’t interested in explanations right now. He was already feeling more confident as he remembered Quentin’s instructions, and he realized that neither the skin itself or the fluids leaking from the slit tasted bad in any way. He lifted it a little and began to lick his way down the shaft, curling his fingers around the base at the same time to hold it in place.
The sight of Gary licking his cock was blowing Patrick’s mind as well as things lower down. He bit at his lip, barely able to contain the loud noises that wanted to escape him. But if he made too much noise, his parents were bound to come and find out what was the matter. This appalling thought kept him nearly silent, but at some cost. Because now his dick was entering Gary’s mouth, and a tongue was rubbing at the bottom of the shaft insidiously.
Little noises drifted out from between his fingers as he practically bit at his hand to contain himself. Gary had turned his head a bit so that Patrick’s cock sank into his cheek instead of his throat, but he didn’t care in the least. It was still warm and tight, and that tongue was still massaging him relentlessly. Gary began to bob his head a little, sucking just a bit as he did so. Patrick humped upward, not caring anymore about anything but the sight and feel of himself sinking into Gary’s pink mouth. Oh, man!
Gary pulled back, making him protest. “Tell me when you’re going to come,” he said softly, before returning to his efforts.
What? Oh. Patrick’s brain struggled to actually work at all. It hadn’t been that long since Gary had started, but he could already feel his balls drawing up. This was just too good! And too unexpected. He gritted his teeth. “I-I’m gonna…” he hissed.
Gary pulled his head back enough that only the tip of Patrick’s cock was still in his mouth. He sucked strongly, and that was it! Patrick spurted out over his tongue, biting down hard on his palm as he came inside of his boyfriend’s mouth. He fell back on the bed, spent, as Gary tentatively tried wallowing. He stared with round eyes down at the boy kneeling on his bedroom floor.
“That’s what we talked about,” Gary said hoarsely. “Quen told me how to do it right.”
“Oh,” Patrick managed to get out. He paused, then added: “Thank him for me, would you? Because that was awesome!”
Gary found himself smiling triumphantly. “I will,” he replied simply.
Quentin was humming to himself as he reached into his locker to retrieve his Algebra book. He wasn’t pleased about having to to class, however; he wasn’t a big fan of formulas and equations. He was feeling upbeat because of how well dinner had gone last night. His parents really liked Chet, and his boyfriend had responded well to their attentions. When he could make the three people he loved most happy, Quentin felt fulfilled and content. That’s why he was so jived up this morning as he pulled out the dreaded Algebra textbook and stowed it in his pink-and-white backpack.
“Hey, Quen?” he heard a familiar voice say. He closed his locker and turned a bright smile of greeting on Gary, who was standing there clutching a handful of thick textbooks and looking a little nervous.
“Hi, Gary!” Quentin chirped. “What’s up?”
“Ummm…” Gary’s eyes dropped to the floor, and his face began to suffuse with red.
Intrigued, Quentin said: “What’s the matter? Is anything wrong?”
Gary shook his head hurriedly. “Oh, no! I just…and Patrick too…” he began somewhat incoherently.
“You just? And Patrick?” Quentin prompted him patiently.
His friend’s eyes darted back up to meet his. “We both…want to thank you!” he blurted out quickly, turning an even deeper shade of red.
Quentin cocked his head to the side like a curious bird. “Thank me? For what?” he asked, then understanding lit up his eyes. “Ah. Was it for the advice I gave you?” he said softly.
Gary nodded, looking rather mortified.
Quentin grinned. “So Patrick appreciated it, eh? I take it you did a good job?”
Gary now resembled a cherry tomato, but he nodded again in shy pride. It made Quentin want to hug and cuddle him right here in the hallway. What a cutie Gary was! “Well, that’s great,” Quentin said, patting his arm. “I’m glad it all worked out for both of you. You know you can always ask me for advice on anything, Gary. I’m always glad to help.”
“I know,” Gary managed to say. “Thanks, Quen. Hey, how did dinner go last night? You took Chet to your house to meet your parents, right?”
Quentin nodded, a Cheshire cat smile gracing his lips. ’My ’rents adored him,” he said happily. “Dad and he watched a football game last night together, and I think that they really bonded. And Mom is in full ’mother mode’ where he’s concerned. She’ll smother him with attention and affection if he’s not careful.”
“That’s good,” Gary remarked. “That your parents like him, that is. I wish…” he sighed, his shoulders slumping, “That I could tell my parents that Patrick is my boyfriend and not just an athlete that I’m tutoring.” he said sadly.
Quentin gave in and hugged him quickly. “It’ll be okay, Gary. One day you’ll be able to tell them that you’re gay, and if not Patrick you’ll be able to introduce them to your boyfriend when that happens.”
Gary sniffed a little. “I just worry…that they won’t love me anymore,” he whispered, his eyes glittering with unshed tears.
Quentin sighed. “Gary, even if they can’t handle you being gay, that doesn’t mean that they won’t still love you. You’re their child. And sometimes it just takes time for them to be able to accept it. Your parents are like strict Christians, are they?” he went on, looking a little worried now.
Gary shook his head. “Not really.”
Quentin blew out a breath, relieved. “Religion is always bad for gays,” he said with a grimace. “Most of them can’t handle the concept, and they think we’re damned or something. Still, just remember that if your family can’t accept you, you’ll always have another family. Your friends, that is. Like me.”
Gary smiled in a watery way at him. “I’ll remember that, Quen,” he said gratefully.
“Hey, guys!” they both turned to see Corey bouncing toward them. “Wassup?”
Quentin chuckled at him. “I took Chet to meet my parents last night, and Gary…” he trailed off as Gary shook his head desperately at him, “Umm…hung out with Patrick. They ’studied’.” he winked subtly at his friend, as Corey looked from him to Gary in puzzlement.
“Okay. I was just wondering if Gary and Patrick were coming to the game on Saturday,” Corey said. “Amanda’s going to cover it for the paper, so I’m going with her. Are you going to sit with us, Quen?”
His mouth opened a little. “What are you talking about, Corey?” he asked after a moment’s confused silence.
Now it was Corey’s turn to look confused. “Err…the football game. On Saturday. I thought you’d kind of want to come, seeing as you’re dating the quarterback and all.”
“There’s a football game on Saturday?” Quentin said, feeling his stomach muscles start to do some peculiar things inside of him as he spoke.
Corey nodded as Gary looked at him worriedly. “Yeah. You didn’t know?”
Dumbfounded, he shook his head slowly. “Chet never said.”
Corey and Gary exchanged anxious glances. Quentin’s tone of voice said that he was not a happy person right now. “Are you okay, Quen?” Gary asked tentatively.
“Sure,” he replied through stiff lips. “I’m fine.”
Chet entered the cafeteria, his eyes moving around as they sought out his boyfriend. It didn’t take him long to find Quentin; he was the most colorful creature in the place, after all. He walked over to the table, and as he came closer he registered the expression on his boyfriend’s face. His steps slowed as wariness filled him. Quentin looked mightily unhappy. In fact, that flame burning in the center of his eyes was a flicker of anger. What had he done? Because from the way that Quentin was looking at him, whatever had made him mad was definitely Chet’s fault.
“Quen?” he asked warily, stopping beside the table. “Are you ready to eat lunch with me?”
“Sure,” Quentin said shortly. He pushed to his feet, gathering up his lunch container and backpack. “Let’s go.”
Hostile silence filled the space between them as they left the cafeteria together. Chet glanced sideways at his stiffly upright boyfriend, who stalked along beside him with his shoulders rigid and his face blank. Finally he could take no more of this, and he cleared his throat. “Okay, Quen, what did I do?” he asked grimly.
Quentin turned toward him. “I could say all kinds of things, like ‘who says that you did anything?’ or ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about’. But since I’m a reprehensibly honest person, and I believe in always being truthful, here goes. Why didn’t you tell me that you had a game on Saturday? Is it because you don’t want me to go? Are you that ashamed of me?” the pain in his voice at this last question made Chet flinch.
“No!” he burst out in shocked horror. “That isn’t it at all. The truth is, I’ve been so out-of-it with this whole gay thing that I didn’t even think about it until last night - and then…well, I saw how bored you were with football, Quen. You were obviously humoring your dad and me the entire time. I just assumed that you’d be bored out of your skull if I asked you to go to the game.”
Quentin blinked, then a look of faint amusement spread over his face. “I should have known, big man,” he sighed. “Men. Yes, I’d be bored at a football game. But I still want to go, because its not just any football game, its YOURS. I want to watch my boyfriend play. I want to cheer him on, loudly and raucously. And if your team wins, I want to give you a celebration that you’ll never forget,” he added in a lascivious tone of voice as he gave Chet a naughty look from under his lashes.
He swallowed heavily. “Okay. If that’s the case, please come to the game on Saturday," he said huskily.
Looking as pleased as a cat that’s just gotten into a container of cream, Quentin smiled. “You got it, Chet,” he purred. “I’ll be there with bells on.”
The football player grimaced slightly. “That’s what I’m afraid of,” he remarked, which made Quentin giggle.
“Wow, look at all of them,” Quentin remarked happily, his eyes riveted on the football field below. “All of those hunks in tight uniforms. it’s a smorgasbord!”
Gary shook his head, while his boyfriend Patrick tried not to laugh. Corey looked uncomfortable, but Amanda giggled and replied merrily: “You bet. I love athletes, don’t you?”
Corey gave her a wall-eyed look as Quentin grinned. “There’s nothing better than a big, strong man.” he agreed. “And dozens of them? The eye candy boggles the mind, I’ll tell you.”’
“Umm…”Corey said, wiggling on his seat.
Amanda patted his knee. “Don’t worry, Corey. I still like you best,” she teased.
Corey shook his head. “Sometimes it bites to be a straight guy surrounded by gay guys…and girls,” he muttered.
Laughter at his expense. Even Gary giggled. “Now you know how WE feel, Corey, being surrounded by straight people all the time,” Quentin told him merrily. “Its just right at this moment, you’re in the minority for once, that’s all.”
“Oooh, look, they’re starting,” Amanda said, changing the subject. Everybody concentrated on the field below as the football game began.
Quentin found that watching Chet play wasn’t boring at all. The quarterback was like a graceful animal, and he was enthralled by every movement. Watching his big, bad boyfriend handle a ball made him weak in the knees. That didn’t stop him from cheering loudly and jumping up and down in excitement, of course. And shaking the pom poms that he’d bought from a booster over his head while he did so. When their team won the game, all of them surged off the bench and cheered victoriously. Amanda kissed Corey, much to his delight(and slight embarrassment at being kissed in public), and Patrick hugged his boyfriend tightly to his side. Quentin, meanwhile, was planning that celebration for Chet. For one thing, he thought that a victory lap dance was definitely called for…
Quentin smiled in a sultry way down at his entranced boyfriend. Chet was sitting very still on his bed, his eyes riveted on Quentin’s lithely muscular form as his boyfriend gyrated slowly and sensually on his lap. He ground down into Chet’s groin, rubbing his pert ass over the hard bulge there as he crooned: “I’m so proud of you, big man. You played so well. Now let me show my big, bad quarterback what a REAL tight end looks like…” he swayed as he spoke, his hips turning in circles as he let his eyes go lidded and his mouth opened erotically.
Chet made a small sound in the back of his throat, his large body shuddering a bit as Quentin teased and tormented him. A sultry smile, then Quentin peeled his shirt up off of his head slowly but surely. His pink nipples were rucked, and he let his fingertips tweak at one of them as he looked down into Chet’s hungry eyes. A low moan broke from his throat. He arched his neck, his arms lifting above his head like a dancer’s. He jinked his hips, pushing his own raging erection against the hard length in Chet’s jeans.
“Mmm, this feels SO good,” he said breathily, making the football player close his eyes and struggle not to blow in his jeans from this overload of stimulation. Hands came to rest on his broad shoulders, and hot breath blew on his cheek as Quentin leaned forward. “Kiss me, big man,” he purred.
Chet grabbed the back of a blue head and did just that, devouring Quentin’s lips hungrily. He relished the moans he drew from his boyfriend’s throat, and he sucked ferociously on that impudent tongue that had given him such trouble(and shown him such delight) in the last few months. Quentin nipped at his lower lip in retaliation, then kissed a line from his lips to his ear. “I love how big and hard you are, Chet,” he growled softly, just before he latched onto the football player’s ear and began to suck it.
“Fuck,” Chet groaned, unable to stand anymore. He was a young, vigorous teenage boy who’d just had tons of adrenaline and testosterone running through his system. He pushed Quentin off of his lap desperately, his fingers fumbling at the snap and zipper of his jeans,. He needed out of them NOW!
Quentin pushed his hands away and took over, quickly and easily freeing him. Chet gasped as his raging cock ended up in Quentin’s hand, and burning blue eyes met his as a pink tongue licked impudently at the tip. He shuddered again, bucking. He was close, so close…oh, Jesus! Quentin was sucking him, taking him in, displaying those amazing skills once again…it was too much! He came, violently, spurting into Quentin’s sucking mouth for what seemed like an eternity.
“Hmm, somebody was all backed up,” Quentin teased licking him clean with the delicate skill of a cat with a bowl of cream. “Feel better now, big man?”
He nodded. Quentin smiled and rubbed his face against Chet’s thigh. The football player took a deep breath and pointed at his bed. “Get on there, NOW,” he growled, and this command made Quentin’s breathing hitch and his stomach muscles tighten.
“Of course, Master,” he said, still teasing; but he did as Chet had told him anyway, stretching his half-naked body out on the bed as he waited to see what Chet would do to him.
The bigger boy reached out and began to pull Quentin’s jeans off him, no mean feat when they were skin tight. Bu the finally managed, tossing them away behind him impatiently. His eyes studied the naked body laid out before him, and a burning light sprang up in his caramel-colored gaze. His lip lifted off of his teeth a little, and Quentin quivered at his expression. He gasped as he found himself being rolled over onto his belly on the bed, and then gasped again when his cock came in contact with the bedspread.
Hands were stroking and kneading the cheeks of his ass. He lifted into them, moaning softly. “I think…” Chet growled musingly, “That I should punish you for being a little shit.”
Quentin groaned desperately. Fingers slid into the crack of his ass and found his anus, rubbing lightly over the puckered ring until he was trembling. Then he jumped, his eyes wide, as a big hand smacked down on the left cheek of his ass smartly. “Ugh!” He cried, shocked and completely titillated. The same hand soothed the rounded cheek for a moment, then was withdrawn and came down again on a different spot. He shuddered, so turned on that he could barely stand it.
Chet proceeded to methodically spank his ass until the entire surface was red and mottled with handprints. Quentin squirmed and squeaked and whimpered, in some pain but so worked up that it didn’t matter at all. Somewhere in the middle of his ‘punishment’, he came all of the bedspread under him without even touching himself. He went limp, lying face down on the bed worn out and spent.
The smacking hand disappeared, leaving him a huddled mess as he came down from the high of his intense orgasm. Then he was being rolled over, and he looked up dazedly into Chet’s slitted eyes. “You’re such a pervert,” the football player commented.
He smiled weakly. “Takes one to know one, big man,” he rasped.
Chet didn’t bother to refute this statement. He merely leaned over and began to kiss the pale skin of Quentin’s chest and belly, his tongue lapping at the streak of white still clinging there. Quentin moaned breathlessly, his skin over sensitized. He seemed to feel each lick right down to his toes. Big hands cradled his hips as Chet moved ever downward, nipping at the trembling skin of Quentin’s belly. Then he arrived at the spent cock lying between his thighs, and he mewled as Chet’s tongue glided over it and his nose nuzzled at the limp tube of flesh. He would have begged his boyfriend to stop this pleasurable torture, but really he didn’t want it to stop even though it was uncomfortable for him…
Chet met his gaze as he moved his hand over to cradle Quentin’s cock so that he could begin licking the length of it relentlessly. He bit at his lip and bucked upward helplessly, whimpering again. His hot ass was rubbing against the bed, and if he lifted it he pushed his cock closer to that tormenting mouth. He cried out a little as his penis began to come back to life, thickening a little as Chet continued to lick and suck at it. Oh, it hurt! But so good, so very, very good!
A thick finger slid into his ass abruptly, probing his depths. Quentin arched his back and cried out again, caught between a rock and a hard place and on fire as a fingertip found his prostate and pressed on it deliberately. Oh, God…he didn’t know how much more that he could take…
“Please, Chet,” he begged breathlessly. “Ahh!”
The football player’s eyes gleamed with lustful triumph. He shoved another finger into Quentin’s body, sawing them around. His boyfriend squirmed and writhed for him, his cock almost hard again already. Lapping at a pair of tight balls, Chet drove his boyfriend almost insane with his attentions. Then he pulled away, removing his fingers as well as his mouth. Quentin panted and made small sounds of protest as Chet rose to his feet and walked away.
Before he could gather enough energy to speak coherently, the big form returned. Chet climbed up onto the bed and settled between his thighs, looking down at him. His big hands spread Quentin’s buttocks, making him cry out at the pain. Thumbs slid inside, widening him. “Stop your crying, or I won’t fuck you,” Chet told him stonily.
Since he wanted to be fucked very badly, Quentin managed to contain his small sounds of pain. The football player leaned over him a little. “If you don’t like it, I’ll never spank you again,” he said quietly.
Quentin manage to gasp: “No! No, I loved it! It just hurts a bit now, that’s all. But don’t let that stop you, big man. Sometimes pain is good.”
Chet nodded, then drove himself into Quentin’s body in a single smooth push. His condom-clad, slicked up cock speared his boyfriend, and Quentin’s mouth opened wide on a cry of pure pleasure as he was filled almost to the brim.
Hands lifted and spread his legs, then Chet began to drive into him harshly. Quentin thrashed and moaned, caught between pain and pleasure and out of his mind because of it. “Shit!” he wailed, “Oh, fuck! Oh, yeah!”
Chet’s lips drew back from his teeth a little as he pounded his boyfriend into the bed. He loved the tightness, the heat, the way Quentin’s face twisted and his skin reddened…he enjoyed every cry that he drove from his boyfriend’s throat as he fucked on hard and relentlessly. His hands felt the reddened, hot skin of Quentin’s ass, and he squeezed the cheeks to tear another cry from that white throat. Then he released them, as he didn’t want to hurt Quentin too much beyond pain that would cause sexual pleasure. Instead, he slid as hand up to grab his boyfriend’s cock. He pulled and stroked at it in time with his thrusts, and Quentin spasmed wildly for him.
“Uh, uh, uh, uh…” Quentin couldn’t make coherent sounds anymore. His body shook with each pounding stroke, and his cock was dark red and quivering in Chet’s firm grip. His eyes opened wide, and his mouth opened in a soundless scream of agonized pleasure as he came all over Chet’s hand.
His body was stiff as a board for a moment, then he went limp as his breathing restarted. Chet never stopped his movements, since having Quentin come while he was buried inside always pushed him toward his own end very quickly. He gritted his teeth as he plowed into his boyfriend’s sweating body as hard as he could, then with one last thrust he stiffened himself as he came in a rush. His hands grabbed Quentin’s thighs so hard that there would be faint bruises in the skin later on.
Silence except for panting breaths as they both tried to recover from that intense sexual act. Quentin’s eyes were closed, and he still wasn’t moving. Chet finally stirred, pulling himself from the hot, tight clinging sheath with a pang of regret. A soft moan was the only response to his action; the only indication(besides the rise and fall of his chest) that Quentin was still alive.
Chet smiled in faint triumph as he looked down on his annihilated boyfriend. It made him feel decidedly masculine and dominant to reduce Quentin to this unmoving heap. He was looking forward to doing that again sometimes soon…very soon, if he had his way. And he thought that he might get his way, since Quentin was such a naughty little pervert…
Go to Part 11
“What’s the matter, Gary?” Patrick asked, making his boyfriend start a bit. To his surprise, Gary turned a dull red and squirmed on his bed. They were hanging out at his house together, pretending to do homework but actually making out a little as they listened to music.
“Um…” Gary said, practically writhing in embarrassment.
Patrick’s brows drew together a little in baffled concern. “Are you okay, Gary?” he asked, touching the smaller boy’s arm.
Another jump. “Yes!” Gary squeaked, now a shade of crimson that made him look apoplectic.
“Are you sure? Why are you blushing so bad?” Patrick said, looking at his face.
Gary closed his eyes in a pure agony of embarrassment. It wasn’t Patrick’s fault that he’d started thinking about the things that Quentin had told him about giving blow jobs, and that had both excited him and also made him feel horribly embarrassed as well, as though Patrick could somehow see into his head.
He stuttered: “I-I t-talked to Quen…” then halted, unable to speak anymore.
“About what?” a puzzled Patrick asked, searching his face.
He put his hands to his burning cheeks. “Oh. Um…” he bit at his lip. “A-about…Oh, God!”
Patrick was starting to feel frustrated as well as concerned. “What could be so bad?” he demanded. “Just tell me what you talked to him about!”
Gary felt terrible when he saw that he was upsetting his boyfriend. So instead of trying to answer anymore which clearly wasn’t working at all, he slipped off the bed and knelt down between an astonished Patrick’s thighs. He couldn’t quite believe that he was doing this - it felt like some strange dream as his fingers reached out for the front of Patrick’s jeans. “Gary?!” it was Patrick’s turn to squeak, his eyes wide as a red-faced Gary began to unfasten his jeans. “What are you…?”
But Gary didn’t answer - not with words, anyway. Getting the jeans undone, he pulled them down off of his boyfriend’s hips determinedly. Patrick just sat there with his mouth hanging open, not believing what was happening. It was only when his jeans and underwear went south that he thought of doing anything, but it was too late by then. Slender fingers had closed over his cock, which was hardening involuntarily. Gary swallowed heavily, then leaned forward and stuck out his tongue to touch it to the pink tip of Patrick’s penis.
“Shit!” Patrick squalled in amazed disbelief, bucking a little. “Gary? What?” he whimpered as that tongue swirled lightly over the tip.
But Gary wasn’t interested in explanations right now. He was already feeling more confident as he remembered Quentin’s instructions, and he realized that neither the skin itself or the fluids leaking from the slit tasted bad in any way. He lifted it a little and began to lick his way down the shaft, curling his fingers around the base at the same time to hold it in place.
The sight of Gary licking his cock was blowing Patrick’s mind as well as things lower down. He bit at his lip, barely able to contain the loud noises that wanted to escape him. But if he made too much noise, his parents were bound to come and find out what was the matter. This appalling thought kept him nearly silent, but at some cost. Because now his dick was entering Gary’s mouth, and a tongue was rubbing at the bottom of the shaft insidiously.
Little noises drifted out from between his fingers as he practically bit at his hand to contain himself. Gary had turned his head a bit so that Patrick’s cock sank into his cheek instead of his throat, but he didn’t care in the least. It was still warm and tight, and that tongue was still massaging him relentlessly. Gary began to bob his head a little, sucking just a bit as he did so. Patrick humped upward, not caring anymore about anything but the sight and feel of himself sinking into Gary’s pink mouth. Oh, man!
Gary pulled back, making him protest. “Tell me when you’re going to come,” he said softly, before returning to his efforts.
What? Oh. Patrick’s brain struggled to actually work at all. It hadn’t been that long since Gary had started, but he could already feel his balls drawing up. This was just too good! And too unexpected. He gritted his teeth. “I-I’m gonna…” he hissed.
Gary pulled his head back enough that only the tip of Patrick’s cock was still in his mouth. He sucked strongly, and that was it! Patrick spurted out over his tongue, biting down hard on his palm as he came inside of his boyfriend’s mouth. He fell back on the bed, spent, as Gary tentatively tried wallowing. He stared with round eyes down at the boy kneeling on his bedroom floor.
“That’s what we talked about,” Gary said hoarsely. “Quen told me how to do it right.”
“Oh,” Patrick managed to get out. He paused, then added: “Thank him for me, would you? Because that was awesome!”
Gary found himself smiling triumphantly. “I will,” he replied simply.
Quentin was humming to himself as he reached into his locker to retrieve his Algebra book. He wasn’t pleased about having to to class, however; he wasn’t a big fan of formulas and equations. He was feeling upbeat because of how well dinner had gone last night. His parents really liked Chet, and his boyfriend had responded well to their attentions. When he could make the three people he loved most happy, Quentin felt fulfilled and content. That’s why he was so jived up this morning as he pulled out the dreaded Algebra textbook and stowed it in his pink-and-white backpack.
“Hey, Quen?” he heard a familiar voice say. He closed his locker and turned a bright smile of greeting on Gary, who was standing there clutching a handful of thick textbooks and looking a little nervous.
“Hi, Gary!” Quentin chirped. “What’s up?”
“Ummm…” Gary’s eyes dropped to the floor, and his face began to suffuse with red.
Intrigued, Quentin said: “What’s the matter? Is anything wrong?”
Gary shook his head hurriedly. “Oh, no! I just…and Patrick too…” he began somewhat incoherently.
“You just? And Patrick?” Quentin prompted him patiently.
His friend’s eyes darted back up to meet his. “We both…want to thank you!” he blurted out quickly, turning an even deeper shade of red.
Quentin cocked his head to the side like a curious bird. “Thank me? For what?” he asked, then understanding lit up his eyes. “Ah. Was it for the advice I gave you?” he said softly.
Gary nodded, looking rather mortified.
Quentin grinned. “So Patrick appreciated it, eh? I take it you did a good job?”
Gary now resembled a cherry tomato, but he nodded again in shy pride. It made Quentin want to hug and cuddle him right here in the hallway. What a cutie Gary was! “Well, that’s great,” Quentin said, patting his arm. “I’m glad it all worked out for both of you. You know you can always ask me for advice on anything, Gary. I’m always glad to help.”
“I know,” Gary managed to say. “Thanks, Quen. Hey, how did dinner go last night? You took Chet to your house to meet your parents, right?”
Quentin nodded, a Cheshire cat smile gracing his lips. ’My ’rents adored him,” he said happily. “Dad and he watched a football game last night together, and I think that they really bonded. And Mom is in full ’mother mode’ where he’s concerned. She’ll smother him with attention and affection if he’s not careful.”
“That’s good,” Gary remarked. “That your parents like him, that is. I wish…” he sighed, his shoulders slumping, “That I could tell my parents that Patrick is my boyfriend and not just an athlete that I’m tutoring.” he said sadly.
Quentin gave in and hugged him quickly. “It’ll be okay, Gary. One day you’ll be able to tell them that you’re gay, and if not Patrick you’ll be able to introduce them to your boyfriend when that happens.”
Gary sniffed a little. “I just worry…that they won’t love me anymore,” he whispered, his eyes glittering with unshed tears.
Quentin sighed. “Gary, even if they can’t handle you being gay, that doesn’t mean that they won’t still love you. You’re their child. And sometimes it just takes time for them to be able to accept it. Your parents are like strict Christians, are they?” he went on, looking a little worried now.
Gary shook his head. “Not really.”
Quentin blew out a breath, relieved. “Religion is always bad for gays,” he said with a grimace. “Most of them can’t handle the concept, and they think we’re damned or something. Still, just remember that if your family can’t accept you, you’ll always have another family. Your friends, that is. Like me.”
Gary smiled in a watery way at him. “I’ll remember that, Quen,” he said gratefully.
“Hey, guys!” they both turned to see Corey bouncing toward them. “Wassup?”
Quentin chuckled at him. “I took Chet to meet my parents last night, and Gary…” he trailed off as Gary shook his head desperately at him, “Umm…hung out with Patrick. They ’studied’.” he winked subtly at his friend, as Corey looked from him to Gary in puzzlement.
“Okay. I was just wondering if Gary and Patrick were coming to the game on Saturday,” Corey said. “Amanda’s going to cover it for the paper, so I’m going with her. Are you going to sit with us, Quen?”
His mouth opened a little. “What are you talking about, Corey?” he asked after a moment’s confused silence.
Now it was Corey’s turn to look confused. “Err…the football game. On Saturday. I thought you’d kind of want to come, seeing as you’re dating the quarterback and all.”
“There’s a football game on Saturday?” Quentin said, feeling his stomach muscles start to do some peculiar things inside of him as he spoke.
Corey nodded as Gary looked at him worriedly. “Yeah. You didn’t know?”
Dumbfounded, he shook his head slowly. “Chet never said.”
Corey and Gary exchanged anxious glances. Quentin’s tone of voice said that he was not a happy person right now. “Are you okay, Quen?” Gary asked tentatively.
“Sure,” he replied through stiff lips. “I’m fine.”
Chet entered the cafeteria, his eyes moving around as they sought out his boyfriend. It didn’t take him long to find Quentin; he was the most colorful creature in the place, after all. He walked over to the table, and as he came closer he registered the expression on his boyfriend’s face. His steps slowed as wariness filled him. Quentin looked mightily unhappy. In fact, that flame burning in the center of his eyes was a flicker of anger. What had he done? Because from the way that Quentin was looking at him, whatever had made him mad was definitely Chet’s fault.
“Quen?” he asked warily, stopping beside the table. “Are you ready to eat lunch with me?”
“Sure,” Quentin said shortly. He pushed to his feet, gathering up his lunch container and backpack. “Let’s go.”
Hostile silence filled the space between them as they left the cafeteria together. Chet glanced sideways at his stiffly upright boyfriend, who stalked along beside him with his shoulders rigid and his face blank. Finally he could take no more of this, and he cleared his throat. “Okay, Quen, what did I do?” he asked grimly.
Quentin turned toward him. “I could say all kinds of things, like ‘who says that you did anything?’ or ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about’. But since I’m a reprehensibly honest person, and I believe in always being truthful, here goes. Why didn’t you tell me that you had a game on Saturday? Is it because you don’t want me to go? Are you that ashamed of me?” the pain in his voice at this last question made Chet flinch.
“No!” he burst out in shocked horror. “That isn’t it at all. The truth is, I’ve been so out-of-it with this whole gay thing that I didn’t even think about it until last night - and then…well, I saw how bored you were with football, Quen. You were obviously humoring your dad and me the entire time. I just assumed that you’d be bored out of your skull if I asked you to go to the game.”
Quentin blinked, then a look of faint amusement spread over his face. “I should have known, big man,” he sighed. “Men. Yes, I’d be bored at a football game. But I still want to go, because its not just any football game, its YOURS. I want to watch my boyfriend play. I want to cheer him on, loudly and raucously. And if your team wins, I want to give you a celebration that you’ll never forget,” he added in a lascivious tone of voice as he gave Chet a naughty look from under his lashes.
He swallowed heavily. “Okay. If that’s the case, please come to the game on Saturday," he said huskily.
Looking as pleased as a cat that’s just gotten into a container of cream, Quentin smiled. “You got it, Chet,” he purred. “I’ll be there with bells on.”
The football player grimaced slightly. “That’s what I’m afraid of,” he remarked, which made Quentin giggle.
“Wow, look at all of them,” Quentin remarked happily, his eyes riveted on the football field below. “All of those hunks in tight uniforms. it’s a smorgasbord!”
Gary shook his head, while his boyfriend Patrick tried not to laugh. Corey looked uncomfortable, but Amanda giggled and replied merrily: “You bet. I love athletes, don’t you?”
Corey gave her a wall-eyed look as Quentin grinned. “There’s nothing better than a big, strong man.” he agreed. “And dozens of them? The eye candy boggles the mind, I’ll tell you.”’
“Umm…”Corey said, wiggling on his seat.
Amanda patted his knee. “Don’t worry, Corey. I still like you best,” she teased.
Corey shook his head. “Sometimes it bites to be a straight guy surrounded by gay guys…and girls,” he muttered.
Laughter at his expense. Even Gary giggled. “Now you know how WE feel, Corey, being surrounded by straight people all the time,” Quentin told him merrily. “Its just right at this moment, you’re in the minority for once, that’s all.”
“Oooh, look, they’re starting,” Amanda said, changing the subject. Everybody concentrated on the field below as the football game began.
Quentin found that watching Chet play wasn’t boring at all. The quarterback was like a graceful animal, and he was enthralled by every movement. Watching his big, bad boyfriend handle a ball made him weak in the knees. That didn’t stop him from cheering loudly and jumping up and down in excitement, of course. And shaking the pom poms that he’d bought from a booster over his head while he did so. When their team won the game, all of them surged off the bench and cheered victoriously. Amanda kissed Corey, much to his delight(and slight embarrassment at being kissed in public), and Patrick hugged his boyfriend tightly to his side. Quentin, meanwhile, was planning that celebration for Chet. For one thing, he thought that a victory lap dance was definitely called for…
Quentin smiled in a sultry way down at his entranced boyfriend. Chet was sitting very still on his bed, his eyes riveted on Quentin’s lithely muscular form as his boyfriend gyrated slowly and sensually on his lap. He ground down into Chet’s groin, rubbing his pert ass over the hard bulge there as he crooned: “I’m so proud of you, big man. You played so well. Now let me show my big, bad quarterback what a REAL tight end looks like…” he swayed as he spoke, his hips turning in circles as he let his eyes go lidded and his mouth opened erotically.
Chet made a small sound in the back of his throat, his large body shuddering a bit as Quentin teased and tormented him. A sultry smile, then Quentin peeled his shirt up off of his head slowly but surely. His pink nipples were rucked, and he let his fingertips tweak at one of them as he looked down into Chet’s hungry eyes. A low moan broke from his throat. He arched his neck, his arms lifting above his head like a dancer’s. He jinked his hips, pushing his own raging erection against the hard length in Chet’s jeans.
“Mmm, this feels SO good,” he said breathily, making the football player close his eyes and struggle not to blow in his jeans from this overload of stimulation. Hands came to rest on his broad shoulders, and hot breath blew on his cheek as Quentin leaned forward. “Kiss me, big man,” he purred.
Chet grabbed the back of a blue head and did just that, devouring Quentin’s lips hungrily. He relished the moans he drew from his boyfriend’s throat, and he sucked ferociously on that impudent tongue that had given him such trouble(and shown him such delight) in the last few months. Quentin nipped at his lower lip in retaliation, then kissed a line from his lips to his ear. “I love how big and hard you are, Chet,” he growled softly, just before he latched onto the football player’s ear and began to suck it.
“Fuck,” Chet groaned, unable to stand anymore. He was a young, vigorous teenage boy who’d just had tons of adrenaline and testosterone running through his system. He pushed Quentin off of his lap desperately, his fingers fumbling at the snap and zipper of his jeans,. He needed out of them NOW!
Quentin pushed his hands away and took over, quickly and easily freeing him. Chet gasped as his raging cock ended up in Quentin’s hand, and burning blue eyes met his as a pink tongue licked impudently at the tip. He shuddered again, bucking. He was close, so close…oh, Jesus! Quentin was sucking him, taking him in, displaying those amazing skills once again…it was too much! He came, violently, spurting into Quentin’s sucking mouth for what seemed like an eternity.
“Hmm, somebody was all backed up,” Quentin teased licking him clean with the delicate skill of a cat with a bowl of cream. “Feel better now, big man?”
He nodded. Quentin smiled and rubbed his face against Chet’s thigh. The football player took a deep breath and pointed at his bed. “Get on there, NOW,” he growled, and this command made Quentin’s breathing hitch and his stomach muscles tighten.
“Of course, Master,” he said, still teasing; but he did as Chet had told him anyway, stretching his half-naked body out on the bed as he waited to see what Chet would do to him.
The bigger boy reached out and began to pull Quentin’s jeans off him, no mean feat when they were skin tight. Bu the finally managed, tossing them away behind him impatiently. His eyes studied the naked body laid out before him, and a burning light sprang up in his caramel-colored gaze. His lip lifted off of his teeth a little, and Quentin quivered at his expression. He gasped as he found himself being rolled over onto his belly on the bed, and then gasped again when his cock came in contact with the bedspread.
Hands were stroking and kneading the cheeks of his ass. He lifted into them, moaning softly. “I think…” Chet growled musingly, “That I should punish you for being a little shit.”
Quentin groaned desperately. Fingers slid into the crack of his ass and found his anus, rubbing lightly over the puckered ring until he was trembling. Then he jumped, his eyes wide, as a big hand smacked down on the left cheek of his ass smartly. “Ugh!” He cried, shocked and completely titillated. The same hand soothed the rounded cheek for a moment, then was withdrawn and came down again on a different spot. He shuddered, so turned on that he could barely stand it.
Chet proceeded to methodically spank his ass until the entire surface was red and mottled with handprints. Quentin squirmed and squeaked and whimpered, in some pain but so worked up that it didn’t matter at all. Somewhere in the middle of his ‘punishment’, he came all of the bedspread under him without even touching himself. He went limp, lying face down on the bed worn out and spent.
The smacking hand disappeared, leaving him a huddled mess as he came down from the high of his intense orgasm. Then he was being rolled over, and he looked up dazedly into Chet’s slitted eyes. “You’re such a pervert,” the football player commented.
He smiled weakly. “Takes one to know one, big man,” he rasped.
Chet didn’t bother to refute this statement. He merely leaned over and began to kiss the pale skin of Quentin’s chest and belly, his tongue lapping at the streak of white still clinging there. Quentin moaned breathlessly, his skin over sensitized. He seemed to feel each lick right down to his toes. Big hands cradled his hips as Chet moved ever downward, nipping at the trembling skin of Quentin’s belly. Then he arrived at the spent cock lying between his thighs, and he mewled as Chet’s tongue glided over it and his nose nuzzled at the limp tube of flesh. He would have begged his boyfriend to stop this pleasurable torture, but really he didn’t want it to stop even though it was uncomfortable for him…
Chet met his gaze as he moved his hand over to cradle Quentin’s cock so that he could begin licking the length of it relentlessly. He bit at his lip and bucked upward helplessly, whimpering again. His hot ass was rubbing against the bed, and if he lifted it he pushed his cock closer to that tormenting mouth. He cried out a little as his penis began to come back to life, thickening a little as Chet continued to lick and suck at it. Oh, it hurt! But so good, so very, very good!
A thick finger slid into his ass abruptly, probing his depths. Quentin arched his back and cried out again, caught between a rock and a hard place and on fire as a fingertip found his prostate and pressed on it deliberately. Oh, God…he didn’t know how much more that he could take…
“Please, Chet,” he begged breathlessly. “Ahh!”
The football player’s eyes gleamed with lustful triumph. He shoved another finger into Quentin’s body, sawing them around. His boyfriend squirmed and writhed for him, his cock almost hard again already. Lapping at a pair of tight balls, Chet drove his boyfriend almost insane with his attentions. Then he pulled away, removing his fingers as well as his mouth. Quentin panted and made small sounds of protest as Chet rose to his feet and walked away.
Before he could gather enough energy to speak coherently, the big form returned. Chet climbed up onto the bed and settled between his thighs, looking down at him. His big hands spread Quentin’s buttocks, making him cry out at the pain. Thumbs slid inside, widening him. “Stop your crying, or I won’t fuck you,” Chet told him stonily.
Since he wanted to be fucked very badly, Quentin managed to contain his small sounds of pain. The football player leaned over him a little. “If you don’t like it, I’ll never spank you again,” he said quietly.
Quentin manage to gasp: “No! No, I loved it! It just hurts a bit now, that’s all. But don’t let that stop you, big man. Sometimes pain is good.”
Chet nodded, then drove himself into Quentin’s body in a single smooth push. His condom-clad, slicked up cock speared his boyfriend, and Quentin’s mouth opened wide on a cry of pure pleasure as he was filled almost to the brim.
Hands lifted and spread his legs, then Chet began to drive into him harshly. Quentin thrashed and moaned, caught between pain and pleasure and out of his mind because of it. “Shit!” he wailed, “Oh, fuck! Oh, yeah!”
Chet’s lips drew back from his teeth a little as he pounded his boyfriend into the bed. He loved the tightness, the heat, the way Quentin’s face twisted and his skin reddened…he enjoyed every cry that he drove from his boyfriend’s throat as he fucked on hard and relentlessly. His hands felt the reddened, hot skin of Quentin’s ass, and he squeezed the cheeks to tear another cry from that white throat. Then he released them, as he didn’t want to hurt Quentin too much beyond pain that would cause sexual pleasure. Instead, he slid as hand up to grab his boyfriend’s cock. He pulled and stroked at it in time with his thrusts, and Quentin spasmed wildly for him.
“Uh, uh, uh, uh…” Quentin couldn’t make coherent sounds anymore. His body shook with each pounding stroke, and his cock was dark red and quivering in Chet’s firm grip. His eyes opened wide, and his mouth opened in a soundless scream of agonized pleasure as he came all over Chet’s hand.
His body was stiff as a board for a moment, then he went limp as his breathing restarted. Chet never stopped his movements, since having Quentin come while he was buried inside always pushed him toward his own end very quickly. He gritted his teeth as he plowed into his boyfriend’s sweating body as hard as he could, then with one last thrust he stiffened himself as he came in a rush. His hands grabbed Quentin’s thighs so hard that there would be faint bruises in the skin later on.
Silence except for panting breaths as they both tried to recover from that intense sexual act. Quentin’s eyes were closed, and he still wasn’t moving. Chet finally stirred, pulling himself from the hot, tight clinging sheath with a pang of regret. A soft moan was the only response to his action; the only indication(besides the rise and fall of his chest) that Quentin was still alive.
Chet smiled in faint triumph as he looked down on his annihilated boyfriend. It made him feel decidedly masculine and dominant to reduce Quentin to this unmoving heap. He was looking forward to doing that again sometimes soon…very soon, if he had his way. And he thought that he might get his way, since Quentin was such a naughty little pervert…
Go to Part 11
