Enlightened (14 page)

When everything started to tighten and that familiar feeling came over me, I froze. I didn’t want my semen to go into his mouth; that was just gross, but I wasn’t sure if I should say something or if he would already know. Time was rapidly passing; that burning tingle was spreading throughout my body. As the wave started to break over me, I pushed him back, grabbing my cock in my shaking hand. “Move,” I panted and felt him put his hand over mine, stroking my cock along with me.

The gesture was so intimate.

I stopped for just a second, splaying my fingers, and he entwined his with my own as I resumed stroking myself. At that moment, what I really wanted was to watch him, but my orgasm exploded through me with such force that my muscles locked and sounds that I had never made before flowed like the tide. Years of masturbating with my foster parents down the hall had taught me to be virtually silent as I came, so the low grunts and cry of his name surprised me as I bucked my hips up, fucking our entwined hands. The feeling was so intense and felt like it could go on for hours. Pressing my knees, already so wide apart, into the mattress, my hips jerked up in rapid, uncontrolled thrusts, and I felt my semen spatter onto my heaving stomach and chest.

Panting, I finally let go of the sheet and put one shaking hand over my eyes. Jamie lay down next to me and grabbed a hand towel that must have been lying next to the mattress. It was amazing how he had planned ahead. He swiped the towel across my stomach and then handed it to me so I could clean my hand. Wrapping his arm around my heaving chest, he rested his head on my shoulder.

“Was that okay?” His question was so timid that I almost didn’t hear it over the sound of my own heart pounding in my ears. Using my fingers to lightly tilt his chin up, I looked into his crystal blue eyes to witness his affection and devotion. I kissed Jamie, trying to show him how much what he’d done meant to me. The bond, the connection, I felt with him had just been extraordinarily deepened. I loved him more than I could ever remember loving anyone.

“It was incredible, Jamie. I have never, ever felt like that before.” His face brightened, a huge smile spreading across his perfect features. I expected him to look different after what we had just shared, because now I looked at him differently. The term “lover” seemed so inadequate for the beautiful boy lying with me as I pushed his hair, damp with sweat, off of his forehead. He shifted positions slightly, and I felt his hard cock against my thigh, bringing back the reality of what I needed to do.

Being intimate with Jamie didn’t seem so intimidating now. He made me feel things I had never experienced, a high that I scarcely knew existed. It occurred to me that he must have been as scared about going down on me as I was about doing it to him. But he had done it because he wanted to show me the depth of his feelings. Jamie had made sure I had felt every bit of his affection, his love for me, as he did something that he was so unsure of. He would have done anything for me, of that I was sure.

It was my turn, and I was ready.

Without pretense or hesitation, I scooted down on the mattress until my face was at his chest. He looked down at me, but before he could argue, I smiled at him and ran my fingers lightly over his nipples. Any protest that he might have offered up died in his throat, and he lay back against the pillows. With nerves much too frayed to try to take things slowly, I nuzzled my face into his stomach. Reaching down, Jamie fingered my damp curls as I tried to unbutton his jeans. They were tighter than mine, and I fumbled uselessly with the button fly. Sighing in frustration, I was surprised when his hands gently moved mine and unbuttoned his fly, and he lifted his hips and pulled his jeans off. I was shocked to find that he wore nothing underneath; the thought was just incredibly hot to me.

His cock stood long and lean and proud as it protruded from his coarse dark blond hair, his small pink sac sitting just below his impressive erection. As I had done, he spread his legs wide and gave me room. It was too dark to see anything with much clarity, but I could see enough. The fear returned in earnest when he was naked and lying in front of me. Not wanting to stop, I wrapped my fingers around his shaft instead, touching him as I would myself. It felt entirely foreign to me, but I dipped my head and kissed his hip. He moaned, squirming on the mattress as I touched him.

“God, Brian, that feels so good.” His voice was barely above a whisper, but there was an electric charge, a hunger, in it. I was turning him on, and something stirred in me, something powerful. The love, the desire, the absolute need in his voice, his vulnerability lying naked beneath my touch, it was… it was sexy. I was exciting him, and that made me feel powerful and more in control. He wanted me to make him feel good, to give him pleasure. Looking up, I noticed that his eyes were closed, and he was gripping the sheets just as I had. It didn’t take much to remember the way he had made me feel, the force of it, the intensity.

Taking small steps, I continued to pump him as I pressed my lips to his inner thigh, and I’m sure he could feel my breath on the sensitive apex between his legs. As I stroked, my hand twisted lightly over the head of his cock, and I placed another long, wet kiss on his hip, moving farther down between his spread legs. The sounds that he was making, almost piteous whimpers, egged me on further. Taking one more small step, I tentatively kissed his sensitive sac, and he almost whined in response. I grinned, pleased that I could have that kind of effect on him. Emboldened by his response, I gently licked the wrinkled skin. The taste was salty and almost bitter, with a harsh bumpy texture. The hairs tickled my lips as I licked him again, smelling the latent fragrance of his body wash, and he cried out sharply.

“Oh, God,” he moaned, and I’m not sure that he even realized that he had spoken. It was apparent that he was incredibly excited by my touch, his whimpers and soft cries strengthening my resolve. My touch. Before I lost my nerve, I ran my tongue slowly from his balls up the underside of his cock, as he had done with me. The response was immediate; his back arched, and his hand moved from the wadded sheet to my hair. That small token of affection bolstered my confidence, because no matter what else happened, whether I was good or not, he would love me.

Taking a deep breath, I wrapped my lips around his beautiful cock.

His fingers tightened in my hair, and I continued to caress him with my hand while I sucked on the head. Salty precome mixed with my saliva as my lips slid effortlessly over his smooth skin. Unable to think of anything else to do, I traced the ridges of the head with my tongue. He threaded his fingers through my hair as his other hand stroked my cheek; I laid my other hand on his hip, my thumb affectionately rubbing it in slow, lazy circles. I tried to remember what he had done earlier for me, and again I wondered at what his homework had consisted of. I could have used a little of that reading material. The image of his bobbing head came to mind, and I decided to try that. Holding the base of his cock steady with my hand, I bobbed my head, letting my lips rub over his skin.

“Oh yeah….” I moved my head faster, occasionally grazing his cock with my teeth by accident. Jamie either didn’t notice or didn’t care. Squirming against the mattress, it seemed that he was having the same trouble I’d had, trying hard not to thrust up into my mouth. My jaw started to ache from the strain, but I continued to suck him. His breathing became labored, and his legs trembled faintly.

“Please…,” he whispered, although I had no idea what he was begging for. I was about to pull back and ask him when his fingers tightened almost painfully in my hair. “Brian… Jesus…,” he cried, and I sucked harder, wanting to hear him call my name again. When I felt his muscles tightening under my fingers, it occurred to me why he must have called my name. It wasn’t an impassioned cry, but a warning. I pulled back just in time for his cock to erupt on my cheek and then his stomach. Ignoring the wetness on my face, I continued to touch him with my hand, his semen making my hand glide effortlessly over his heated skin. I kept stroking even after his cock had stopped jettisoning the white, sticky splotches over his skin. After a moment, he pulled his hips back into the mattress out of my grasp, begging me to stop because the sensation was too much.

Picking up the towel that he had discarded next to the bed, I wiped my face and then his stomach. I laid my head gently against the soft skin of his stomach. Feeling him run his fingers absently through my hair, I wrapped an arm tentatively around his hips, completely unable to believe what I had just done. His hand moved down to run lightly over my back. In the afterglow, I felt so content. Of course we were meant to be together. Tonight had just proven it. We fit together so easily, knew instinctively what brought each other pleasure.

“Brian,” Jamie began. Sitting up slightly, I turned to look at him. He was smiling slightly, and his expression was full of hope, of promise. In that moment I could see my whole future, just lying here beside me on this worn, inflatable mattress. “I love you.” Kissing his hip once, I crawled back up the mattress until we were level and wrapped both of my arms around him. He sighed, a very contented sound, and with one arm around me, he put his other hand on my face, cupping my cheek. I leaned into his palm and then said the most important words of my young life. Even though I’d said them before, they meant so much more to me after the intimacy that we had just shared.

“I love you too, Jamie.”

After getting dressed, we lay in each other’s arms, talking late into the night. I knew we had to get up for church the next morning, but it had been so long since we could just be together alone. Jamie rested his head on my chest, and I played with his hair as he ran his fingers over my stomach. We talked about things we’d like to do before the summer was over, and we talked again about what we would do once we had graduated. It all hinged on what we could afford and where we could feel safe being together.

When we were on the verge of sleep, it occurred to me that I was lying alone with Jamie, our limbs entwined comfortably, after the best orgasm I had ever had. I never, ever thought we would be where we were right then. As his breathing evened out, I wished I could freeze that moment in time.

It was like being in heaven.

T
HE
scream wakes him up.

It sounded like Mommy, and it wasn’t far away. Just the thought that something had made Mommy scream like that causes his small heart to pound in his chest. The little boy scoots down in his big boy bed, his spaceman pajamas riding slightly up his back. He crawls around the plastic railing that Mommy and Daddy put in place to keep him from falling out of bed because they love him. His feet make no noise on the carpeting as he creeps to his bedroom door. The muffled argument coming from the living room is nearly overpowered by his loud and frantic breathing. The door has been left open a few inches in case the monsters come out from under the bed.

Peeking around the doorjamb, he looks first to the right, toward his parents’ bedroom, but sees nothing. Then he looks to the left, toward the living room, and sees shadows dancing on the wall. They twist and stretch in the diffused light, looking frightening. Gripping the doorknob tightly in his little fist, he watches, his tiny bare feet frozen where the blue carpeting of his room turns into the light carpeting that runs through the rest of the house.

His mother screams again, and a crash reverberates down the darkened hall. The scream tears right through the terrified little boy, ripping away any lingering thoughts of safety or comfort. Why was Mommy screaming? Where was Daddy? He wants his mother. He wants to be brave and help her, but if it’s too big for Mommy, then it’s too big for him too. Big boys don’t cry, so he wipes away his tears.

Two loud noises crack the very air around him. They sound like fireworks, only much closer and much louder. A warm wetness spreads through his big boy diaper. He runs back to his bed, heedless of the noise his feet make, and hides under the blankets. His only thought is that Mommy or Daddy will come soon. They have to come soon. Please, please let them come soon.

The house is silent, and the boy waits.

He doesn’t hear any more crashes, or bangs, or screams. Whatever was making Mommy scream must be gone. Impatient as any young boy, it doesn’t take long for him to crawl out of the warm safety of his bed. Again there is no sound as he creeps carefully to his bedroom door. His heart starts another wild gallop as he sticks his head out. He sees that there are no more shadows on the wall and begins to breathe a little slower. Everything is still, and the quiet presses on his tiny ears. He needs to be a big boy now, a big brave boy.

Taking a deep breath just like they do on TV when they’re scared, he walks slowly down the hall. His little hand trembles slightly as it glides over the bumpy surface of the wall and he gets as close to it as he can. Even though he’s small for his age, he tries desperately to make himself even smaller. Finally, the hallway opens onto the living room, and he takes his first step inside. The boy is shocked to see that the room is in shambles. The TV is gone, the radio is gone, the front door is open, and his parents are lying on the floor. The boy runs to his mother and tries to wake her. Her limbs loll uselessly as he shakes her, which frightens him. He doesn’t understand why her eyes are open but she doesn’t wake up. The blood seeping from the hole in her chest makes him wonder if she fell down.

He doesn’t know what to do; it looks like Daddy is sleeping too.

He wants to run, to hide, to find someone to help, but he can’t bring himself to leave his mother.

Finally, the little boy sits on the floor next to his mother and takes her cool hand into his, like she always does when he’s scared.

“It will be okay, Mommy,” he whispers softly as he squeezes her big hand with his.