the-life-of-nicky-12.html

The following stories claim to be the autobiography of Nicky, a boy model in the 1960s. The reader will have to decide whether they are fiction or autobiography. In some places, Nicky wrote about real people and real places, almost all of whom (by 2021) are either dead or in hiding. He narrates events and actions which were illegal then and are illegal now, and if you do not wish to read about sex between men and boys, you should stop now–especially if your place of residence has laws against reading such material. None of this material is intended to encourage anyone to break any laws anywhere. You have been warned.

If you enjoy this, you may contact the author at ail The full series of Nicky”s life has already been written, and will continue to be posted.

Will you join your fellow authors and readers to support Nifty? To contribute discreetly to the continuing operations of the Nifty Erotic Stories Archive website using a credit card or other methods of donation, go to Nifty.

Nicky writes:

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12. Meanwhile in High School: Encounters at Home

My travels to Los Angeles and Florida make it sound like I was travelling constantly with Ted during the time I was in high school, 1967-1971. In 1968 I “aged out” of Camp Flying Cloud, and while that was sad, I had the feeling that I was done there, especially since in our last year Jeff and I were living with the Senior Counsellor and for all intents and purposes were his fuck boys, whom he shared liberally. We both enjoyed that very much (don”t get me wrong), but I looked forward to other things. In 1967 I also rented out (or was rented out) for my first times at the Lyric House, with another boy, and Doc Thompson began to publish photographs of me in his glossy magazines. As I wrote, one man I knew in Grosse Pointe (an occasional client) recognized me in those photos, and that gratified my teen-age ego more than anything.

During the school year I was at home, attending Grosse Pointe High School, swimming daily (usually twice), hitting the books, and occasionally modeling (arranged through Ted) or renting out to men (arranged through Alex Gretchen stopped working for us regularly when I entered eighth grade in 1967, but she still visited from time to time, especially if she knew I would be alone, and she still liked to watch me cum.

My reputation at the high school was odd-ball. I was clearly smart, and helped out not a few classmates with research or papers. (I never actually wrote papers for any of them–I didn”t have that kind of time.). There were also stories about me that were entirely fictional or exaggerated, as there were about more than a few swimmers and divers, because we were willing to swim or dive nude in front of the public (such public as ever attended the meets!). That public included girls from school, who rather liked the swim meets for their own reasons. I discovered, through a friend, that rumors were circulating that I was “making it” with a number of popular girls–that was complete fiction, but it enhanced my reputation in a way that worked to obscure even more the actual life I was leading. It was helpful in a weird way. Otherwise I generally kept to myself and members of the swim team, or a few friends. I kept a low profile.

Lest you think my entire life was sexual (though most of it was!), I did have casual friendships with girls that were not particularly sexual, and my continuing close friendship with Brian. We had known each other since kindergarten. Brian was (and is) a science whiz, nerdy in the nicest way, and very perceptive. He knew much of what I did (I showed him a few of the photos that I was allowed to have), and remained my friend. He knew I lived nude at home, and when he was a boy he would come over and play happily with his clothes on while I was nude. As our lives went on, it was great to have a friend with whom I was not involved sexually. (Brian and I did fool around once when he slept over at my house when we were in seventh grade, but that was it.). I still like Brian very much; now he”s a research scientist at a government lab near Washington, D.C.

At Grosse Pointe High School I was sexually involved with several girls, however, and with Howie (see below).

I had known Beth for quite a while (since elementary school), who always treated me nicely, began to ask me what I really felt about being nude “in front of all those people.” Was I ever scared? Did I feel exposed? Occasionally, and yes–the exposure for me was part of the point; I liked swimming as a sort of socially-approved exhibitionist. I told her what I really thought about was swimming fast, making my times, and sometimes whether I was going to get hard when we did the team huddle (boys locked arm-in-arm in close and nearly full-body contact) or just before or after my major event, the 500, when I might go at least half-hard from nerves or from being so charged up when I came out of the pool. (Invariably when I did the 500 in practice or meets, I would go hard in the showers afterwards, but she didn”t know that.).

These conversations were OK in their way. One day we were walking home after a half-day of school in early Fall, before I had practices, and we were talking about a book we both really liked: The Fellowship of the Ring. Then she said, “I have something to ask you and I don”t want you to laugh. Would you be willing to be nude with me in my house so that I can really see your body?” Very quickly I went hard under my pants –I think she could see that. I said, “sure!”

The next Saturday afternoon of 10th grade (1968, age 15), I went to Beth”s house for a “study group” when both of her parents were away “up north.” Without consulting me, she had invited two of her friends (girls), both of whom I knew well. That surprise actually made it more interesting for me. They were really nervous, and asked me whether I would go through with it. I just said, “Sure.” I didn”t tell them how often I had stripped for artists, photographers, and clients. They were not even clear how we would really do this, so I took charge. I told Beth to go get one of her father”s bathrobes. He was taller than I, so when she brought one, it dragged a little on the floor when I put it on.

Her house had a nice, sunny enclosed back porch, very private (like my house). I told them to wait there while I stripped in another room, and put on the robe. I came out to the porch, and stood facing them and told Beth to take the bathrobe off me. I wanted her to disrobe me not only because I liked that feeling of their eyes on me (exhibitionist), but so that my nudity would depend on their action. (I didn”t think through this clearly at the time; it just felt right.)

They waited for a moment on the porch until I entered in the bathrobe, and then they giggled and nervous. I said, “Look, you”ve all seen me nude at the swim meets, so this is not that different, just closer up.” Beth gingerly untied my robe and gently slid it off my shoulders, and there I was, a nude boy in front of three clothed girls (long before anyone thought of CFNM). For the moment, my cock stayed soft. They were wide-eyed and quiet, until one asked, “can I touch you?” “I hope you do, I like that,” I said. Quickly their hands were all over me, very gently at first, then more firmly, pressing my muscles and my abdomen, and of course my cock went hard quickly in response. I arched my back a little to thrust my hard cock out further, and one of them began to stroke it and fondle my balls–I always loved that! They lost any reluctance and really began to feel me all over; it felt really great and of course I was getting harder than ever, and soon started to leak.

“I get wet, just like you do,” I said. I had brought a hand towel from the guest bathroom, so I just told them to wipe it up, “lots more where that comes from.” I knew that some girls were grossed out by boys” precum, but they really liked it.

This moment was definitely new in their sexual education–I knew all three were virgins, and I didn”t have the slightest intention of fucking any of them. I sat back on a sofa between them, with my arms up over my head, and told them all the places where I could feel sexy: escort ankara my cock and balls, of course, but also my nipples, my armpits (they loved my armpits) and my feet (ditto).

Like most girls, they were just fascinated with my balls, could not get enough of them. I said, “when you stroke my cock and get me close to cumming, my balls will get all tight up against the base of my cock. When I cum they will pulse with a muscle that”s right between my legs under there.” Two of them felt there with both hands –so gentle and sexy; I told them they could press a little harder, while my friend was stroking my shaft.

One of them touched my butt, and I said, “If I bend over, you can put your finger inside me and find my boy clit –and don”t worry, I”m clean inside.” One girl inserted her finger, felt around, and when she hit my spot, I said, “right there, now just finger it gently,” and it felt great–more juice then ever was dripping out of my cock. The girl with her finger on my spot used her other hand to fondle my balls from the back, and very soon I was close to coming. I didn”t want to come yet, so I told her to pull her finger out, and stood up again, my cockhead wet with precum. I asked, “do you want to make me cum? Don”t worry, I can cum again a bunch of times if you want to see it again later.”

I felt like I was going to cum pretty soon. I ran my finger around my cockhead, glistening wet, and held it up to Beth”s mouth so she could taste my precum, which she liked, musky. Then I took over stroking so I could prolong this a little, since everything felt so good. When I felt I was close, I told them I was going to cum, and ask Beth if she wanted to hold my cock while I did. She gently moved her hand over my shaft, and when it was time, I gasped quietly, “I”m gonna cum.” I shot a really great cum: six or eight spurts on my abdomen, the first of which went right up on my face. They were amazed by the force of my cum, and then how sensitive and rigid my cock was just after shooting (my actual orgasm).

Then I relaxed, and they relaxed, and I cleaned up with that hand towel.

They were amazed that I was willing to reveal all this to them, no embarrassment. (I did not say how often I had done something like this, just with men.) Since I was supposed to be studying with her or them (that”s what I told my mother!), I had actually brought my Latin book, and since we were all in the same class, I said, “let”s go over the vocabulary and patterns for next week.” In a little while, we were drilling these words, three clothed girls with a nude boy in the middle, my cock puddling remaining juice in the hand towel. This was definitely my favorite way to study Latin!(Excellent preparation for Deerfield, a couple of years later.)

After we did those Latin patterns, I got hard again, but this time I sat with them and really showed them the equipment: where my penis was so sensitive, where I had been cut (circumcised), the veins in my shaft, how my balls usually hang, why my spot is so sensitive. (They never actually asked me how I knew that, and whether I had been fucked ever or often, but I think they guessed that I had been.) Since they had never really been able to play with an erect penis before, they couldn”t get enough of it. This time when eventually I shot again, I talked them through it much more, and how it feels for a boy.

I never had any sex with them; they never took off their clothes for me. It was very one-sided, but I liked that. I was their new toy.

Over the next year we studied Latin on weekends much the same way, three clothed girls and me, nude. One time when my mother was gone all weekend (Gretchen no longer appeared so often), they came over to my house. I was nude when they arrived, of course, and told them how I lived nude all the time. I didn”t cum for them every time we met, but I did several times more. During swim season, we could meet much less. We kept meeting, on and off, for the next three years, until graduation. I did not usually cum at our sessions, but I might if they asked to play with my cock. I was a very safe boy who squirted on request. I always let them play with my cock–I was a whore for attention.

This all led to my enhanced reputation as a “stud,” since word went around that I had gone nude for girls (just whom, unclear) and that I was fucking a lot–wholly untrue, of course. My supposed reputation obscured what I really did, which was fine by me. Who knows? it might have increased attendance at swim meets (joke).

Things took a very “adult” turn.

One of the girl”s mothers somehow heard about this (or overheard about this) and called me one night at home, and gingerly suggested that I come over to see her, “next week, when [her daughter] would be visiting her sister at Kenyon.” She would not say more, so I knew that at least whatever it was, it did not have anything to do with her daughter. (The Graduate had just come out the previous year, so Ben and Mrs. Robinson were in the back of my mind.)

When the evening came, by our arrangement, she picked me up outside the public library and drove right into her garage and closed the door so no one would see me get out at her house. We were alone there. I suppose none of her neighbors knew that she had a high school boy, along with him in the house. I have no clue where her husband was, and he did not figure in anything.

“I heard what you did with [my daughter],” she said, “I would like you to do the same thing for me.” “What did I do with your daughter?” I asked her, playing innocent still not sure what she wanted. “Don”t act innocent, you know well enough,” she said, “and I know that you have modeled nude for my friend [a female artist], so you have no trouble taking your clothes off.” “You want me to do that now?” I asked, and she said, “you are a smart boy! Take your clothes off right here, right now now, and hand them to me.”

I was still surprised, but I thought, OK, I”m sure she”s seen me at the pool anyway, so I stripped easily–no underwear–and handed my clothes and shoes to her. (I remember the concrete floor in the garage was really cold.) She folded them, put them under her arm, and said, “I have these now, and I control you, so you will do what I say.” This was already quite a bit like what I had done a couple of times with men. Predictably, my cock was already hard. She gave is a squeeze but no more.

We went to a bedroom, and she told me to get up on the big double bed bed and lie face down. I heard her strip her clothes in back of me and something metallic; she climbed up on the bed over me, took my wrists, and handcuffed them together in back of me. She rolled me over; the cuffs were loose so I could pivot my arms up over my head, and my cock was already totally leaking.

“Good boy, you learn quickly. Just do what you”re told,” she said, and she squatted over my feet at the end of the bed, and guided my toes to rub against her vagina, which was shaved. She smiled and said, “that feels so good,” and I rubbed a little harder and crossed my big toe and second toe to rub right against where I thought her clit might be. “Nice work,” she said, “I”m already wet, you”re such a cute boy. But you can”t touch your cock. You ask my permission before you do anything, and you ask me nicely. Now I want you to use your tongue and I”ve heard you”re good at it.” (Must have been the artist, I thought.)

She knelt up over my face and pulled back her vagina lips and I went to work on her, finding her clit and licking carefully as I could hear her gasp and feel her shudder. I paused and went at it harder, then paused and went at it again. She absolutely loved it, and then moved to put one nipple in my mouth, then the other. I felt her fingering my shaft, hard and wet, and then she moved down and sat right on me, inserted my cock, and began to pump against me. She teased and teased me, rocking back and forth on my cock, and when she knew I was close she pressed hard down on my chest and said, “no boy, hold it,” and paused, and I did until one time I whimpered, I can”t hold it longer and she sat down on me hard and I shot up into her, arching my back, and she came down on my cock hard again just when I was having my maximum sensitive point, and I yelled. In a moment esenyurt escort I felt my cum and her juices flow down onto my cock, and she pulled off and said, “well you make a regular mess, don”t you boy? Here, I”ll clean you up,” and she wiped up our juices easily, and splayed out my legs on the bed.

She took leather straps and tied each of my ankles to a short bed post (I could have gotten out if I really wanted to), and tied my handcuffed hands to the headboard. Then she started to run her hands up and down my hole body–of course, I was hard again, and she played with my cock a lot with her hands and mouth, “God, what a wonderful toy,” she said. Eventually she sat down on me again and pumped up and down on me. I did much like licking women or my cock in a vagina, but I had no choice. This time I lasted longer and she came hard and she came again just before I did, a second (or third?) time.

After cleaning me up, she untied me, took off the cuffs, got dressed, and handed me a $100 bill–big money, then. “Wow, you have this down,” I said, “have you done this with other boys?” She looked at me, “Yes, I have,” she said, “including a couple of jock boys who would really surprise you. They love to get bossed around, and they follow orders real well.”

I was still nude–she fingered my cock, then handed me my clothes, and said, “take these to the car with you,” and we went back to her garage and got in the car. “Stay nude,” she said, “the way you like.” She drove me to my home (nobody was home), drove all the way up our drive way, and said, “you need a key?” I nodded no, and she said, “OK, get out now, and I”ll call you when I want you again, and when you can come over.” There didn”t seem to be anyone around, so I got out of the car nude, held my clothes, walked back into my house nude and $100 richer.

I did this several more times with her, the last time the Spring of my senior year. During that time I was also studying nude with her daughter in the study group–I never said a word about it to anyone.

I fucked a couple of other mothers–apparently these women talked, or at least passed names. The wildest–in a lame way–was another woman, who rented me a couple of times my 11th grade year, whose husband also rented me at a reliably discreet motel on 8 Mile Road (through Alex and J.J. at Zodiac). I”m sure neither of that couple knew I was fucking with the other one. They also attended the same Episcopal church as I did –just one big happy church family. I almost did it with their daughter, on year younger than me just because I could have, but decided against it at the last minute. Unfair to her.

In Detroit or Grosse Pointe, I never did a M/F couple (and only one M/M couple, both older guys who liked to touch me and make me cum). I kept the older-woman side of my life away from Ted and Alex, neither of whom ever mentioned it to me, although I”m sure Ted knew, since he seemed to have ways of finding out everything. I knew Ted discreetly monitored my whereabouts. I doubt that my mother ever knew about this, although she certainly knew I was having encounters, both artistic and sexual, with a couple of her (female) artist friends. (The artists were only touching and a little active my swim mates knew I was good a sucking cock. Nobody said anything about it. I enjoyed these encounters, but did not want or anticipate that they would lead anything lasting.

But one relationships was different. Howie was an almost stereotypical high school jock: blonde, hazel-eyed, broad-shouldered and narrow-hipped, good looking in an innocent and powerful way. His body was always very smooth; his ancestry was Finnish and American Indian (Anishanabe); his skin tone was just a little darker than pearly white, and he tanned beautifully. His body would not shut up. He was the straight boy star that could not help but be noticed. He was a high-profile jock, and I preferred to remain a little more obscure (despite my showing off my body for the school journalists after swim meets).

Howie was a three-season athlete, but rather than football, basketball, and baseball, his sports were gymnastics (fall), swimming (winter) and track and field (spring). At 6″1″ he was tall for a gymnast, but his shoulders gave him power on the rings and uneven bars. At swimming, he was a specialist in butterfly stroke. In track and field, he did and javelin, long-jump, and was an alternate for distance running Those broad shoulders (42″) his long legs gave him power and belied his natural gracefulness. Howie was one of the most flexible boys I knew: he could do stretches way beyond the rest of us in running and swimming. I had gone distance running with him many times, but always with other boys around. Like me, he liked to run shirtless.

Howie did not like competing nude with swimming, or so he said. In ninth grade he transferred from Grosse Pointe to Brother Rice, only to transfer back for tenth grade. He thought he was going to a high school where nudity was not so customary; what he found was that even more nudity was customary, and as he said to me later, “The brothers were all perverts, and kept trying to get into my pants.”

I was happy that Howie returned to Grosse Pointe High School, because he was a smart guy (in addition to being so handsome). I liked him on the team; he was a good influence and hard worker. He also had a simply beautiful cock, about four and a half inches soft, and about seven and a half hard. He was cut in a beautiful way, and when he was hard his cock-head turn a beautiful red. (I saw this in the swim showers after practice, several times.) I so much wanted to suck him, but kept that to myself.

Howie was the boyfriend of one of the girls who, with Beth, studied Latin with me (when I was nude). I did not actually learn that until tenth grade. In September of that year, Howie”s girlfriend (I think her name was Rose) said she had a note for me from Howie, and handed me a sealed envelope. I opened it and took out a folded piece of paper with a question, “Do you known J.J. and Alex?” –and Howie”s phone number. I probably showed some surprise, but I covered it up quickly, and said to Rose, I don”t know who these guys are, who he”s talking about, probably guys on the swim team at Brother Rice.” As if. I was pretty sure that those two names together was more than just a coincidence.

Howie appeared so straight–absolutely nothing registered on my gaydar–that I hesitated to call him at all. When I did, I hesitated before I could get the words out. “Yeah, I know J.J. and Alex, I do some work for them sometimes.” Howie paused on the phone. I was ready to say, “snow shoveling, is that what you meant?” when Howie breathed deeply and said, “Yeah, so do I.”

I was floored –“really? J.J. the photographer?”

“Yeah. Couple of times a month.” This was unexpected news to me. Suddenly everything changed. I thought I heard my mother stirring downstairs. I improvised.

“Um . . . you know that math homework, quadratic equations? You want some help for that? You can come over tonight, if you want.”

Howie was silent for a moment, and then said louder, as though for someone else at his end, “Yeah, I need that help with those problems. Can I come over now?” I felt my cock perk up.

“Sure, I have the book, you don”t need to bring it. Just come around to our side door, by the garage. See you in a little while.” I went downstairs to say to my Mom, “Howie”s coming over, and we”re going to go over quadratic equations,” but I heard nothing and looked in her study. She had fallen asleep with some of her papers around her. I gently closed her door, and turned off most of the lights in the house. I looked out and saw someone coming up to the house very quietly. Howie”s house was several blocks over, but a short trip if you knew the shortcuts through backyards.

I went to the door nude as I always did. It was Howie. It was a warm, humid evening, and Howie wore only running shorts and shoes. He told his mom he was going out for a run. He probably ditched his shirt in his back yard. When I opened the door, I could tell he was surprised that I was nude, but he came right in.

Howie had never come to my house before, and I had never been eskişehir escort to his. We were swim mates, but not particularly close. I was intimidated by him. In my kitchen one-to-one he was not intimidating, but I couldn”t help but notice his body, even in the dark. His skin glowed around his dark (blue) Michigan thin running shorts with the small script M and the maize piping.

We went to our screened-in back porch and sat down on the porch sofa there “My mom”s asleep in her study, so this is totally private.” He asked, “what if she wakes up?” “Oh, she”s seen me nude, and hard, and even cum lots of times. Nothing new there.”

“Your mom has seen you cum?” My life was beyond the limits what seemed possible to him, I guess. “Aren”t you, like, embarrassed?” “No–why should I be? It”s natural, happens sometimes. I mean, I don”t do it for her approval, or `cause she wants me to, but it just happens.”

Howie was silent. The September crickets were loud, without even a faint breeze. “Well, if you want to talk bout J.J. and Alex, you came to the right place.” By now, I was totally hard in the dark, and not sure whether he could see that, and I thought maybe he was hard in his shorts but I wasn”t sure.

Silence again. “How did you get to know them?” He asked. “My Uncle Ted introduced me to them. I have done some modeling for artists and photographers, and he thought J.J. might be interested in photos of me.”

“Did he take photos of you?” Howie loosened up a bit, took off his running shoes and socks lay back sprawled out on the other end of the sofa with his legs open toward me. Not only did his body never shut up, it spoke volumes.

“Yeah, a lot of photos, all different angles, beds, chairs, doorway, stairs, you name it.” Then I took the plunge, “I think he shows them to clients, and he and Alex set me up to meet with one or another.”

“And that guy with the radio on in the background.” “Yeah, him, definitely,” I said. If Howie knew the guy with the radio always on, obviously he knew J.J. and Alex and their business. “Zodiac,” I said. “J.J. has a thing for signs. What sign are you?”

For the first time Howie laughed. “Gemini, like I have this twin inside of me.” I laughed. “I think all their boys play different characters.”

“What”s your character?” Howie asked. Ok, I thought, might as well be frank about it. “Fuck boy. Bottom boy. Whatever they want, really. I”ve never topped a man, though.”

“Really? That”s mostly what they ask me for, but we don”t always do it,” he said. “Most of the clients just want to touch me all over and rub their cocks up against me, and suck me off.” Howie sat up a little, and slid his shorts down and kicked them off. His beautiful, arching cut cock was totally hard. I was leaking precum all over my abdomen. “You sure leak a lot,” he said, “that”s what Rose told me.”

Now my turn to be surprised. “Rose told you? What else has she told you?” I was just a little alarmed: how much was going around the school? How much of it was accurate?

“Relax, she”s only told me, and I”m not one to pass it on. She really likes studying with you. Now she likes me to be nude when we study together, too.” I was imagining Rose playing with Howie”s beautiful cock, I envied her. “You don”t leak?” I asked.

“Not so much as you–look at me,” he said. With that permission, I leaned over and gently felt his cock and his balls. He pulled me over close to him with his arm around me and stroked my cock, too. I felt like I might cum, but I held on and headed it off. I figured he wasn”t into kissing, whatever else he did.

“Thing is, Howie, I never thought you might do something like this . . . I mean, you”re not queer like me, are you?” “No, just for the money, mostly. And it gets me off,” he said. “You really queer?”

“Yeah, I”m a cocksucking fag,” I said. “I like it and I do a great job.” (And I wanted to add, “And I want to suck your cock in the worst way,” but didn”t.) “And you”re the famous jock straight boy.”

“Or not,” he said. “I mean, I like getting those old guys off. Never been fucked, never will be. The money gives me some freedom from my mom and dad.” I had heard that his mom and dad were not happy and even made a scene after a swim meet in eighth grade. His mother was a regular Grosse Pointe bitch. No wonder Howie wanted some distance and freedom.

“How did you get to know J.J. and Alex?” I asked. “One of the teachers at Brother Rice last year really looked out for me, told me who I should stay away from,” Howie said. “Told me to leave before they got to me.” He paused. Also told me I could make some money, and told me how, and put me in touch with J.J. That teacher is totally straight, never did anything with him. And yeah, the brothers are creepy, and divide up the boys between them. I had to do some stuff with a couple of them, but not for long.” I made a mental note to come back to that some time, because one of my Zodiac clients had been a Catholic priest from Birmingham.

“J.J. do the photos with you, too?” “Oh, yeah, all different ways, hard and soft and everything,” Howie said. “All solo. Advertising I guess. Alex started arranging clients for me last Spring, end of ninth grade, and I did stuff during the summer when we were around.”

Suddenly the porch door closed and I heard the lock click–Mom must have woken up and was closing up the house for the night. Howie and I were locked out there. I tapped on the window, “Mom, we”re out here.” She came right back, unlocked the door. “Who”s here?” She could see us in the dim light from the stairway inside.

Howie was up, right in back of me, fully mast hard, of course. “Oh Howie, nice to see you,” she said without missing a beat, looking at both of us up and down. “Well, have fun and be careful, and go to bed pretty soon,” she said. She looked back, “Howie, nice erection.” She went upstairs and turned off the stairway light.

Howie was floored. “Oh my god, she saw me hard.” “Relax, Howie, she”s seen me lots, she”s not going to say anything to anyone. I”ve always been nude in the house, she”s always let me play with myself wherever I wanted unless somebody else is around.” Howie sat back on the porch sofa, legs splayed toward me. “How much does she know about what you do?” “She knows about artists, and some of the photographers, but not about J.J. and Alex,” I said. “Long story. Some other time.”

Without asking him, I knelt in front of him, took his cock in my right hand, and fondled his balls with my left. I guided his cock into my mouth, licked all around his cockhead, and started to suck, working further and further down his shaft. His was one of the bigger cocks I sucked, but I could handle him right down to his pubes. Howie gasped, his head rolled back, and he gave himself to me. He didn”t last very long, and I swallowed all his cum. I stayed on his cock through his orgasm, right through the very sensitive time.

He pulled me off his cock, and pulled me up and kissed me square on the mouth, tongues, the works. He was hungry for me. His took my cock in his hands but I couldn”t hold off, and shot all over his chest. Fortunately I had a towel stashed on the porch, and dried him off.

“I better go,” he said, “we have to do like this. Talk about our men. More about guys in school.” With that he pulled on his shorts, stuffing in his still half-hard cock, and tied his shoes. Just before he, left, he turned to me and said, “I want to learn from you how to suck cock. You”re really good, the best I”ve had.” I let him out the porch door into the backyard, and he disappeared into the night.

That sure was not what I expected–Howie and I had this secret friendship through the rest of high school. He went to Michigan for college, and we kept up for a while but then I lost track of him. We did talk about our clients–shared only one, it turned out. Our men liked different kinds of boys.

I also found out that he was getting paid more than I was, and I asked J.J. about that. “Well, he”s a straight jock,” he said, “you”re a fuck boy. Guys like him earn more.” That wasn”t good enough, so I told J.J. I wanted the same that Howie got, and he gave it to me. Ted was proud that I stood up to J.J. I told him about Howie, and he wasn”t surprised. He said that Howie had been on his gaydar for quite a while.

During those years at Grosse Pointe High School, I concentrated on my swimming, my academics, my running. The Latin girls, Howie, these were distractions. I told Brian about the girls, but not about Howie. That was our secret. Until now, this memoir.